A/N: Okay, so here's my big apology for not updating sooner. I had a family emergency that took up all of my weekend, but it's settled now, thank God. I know that was one big fucking cliff-hanger to leave you with, and I promise it was not intentional. Thanks again for your reviews and responses. I love reading them all, and I love writing this story. It's not done yet, but we're getting closer. Thank you guys for being so faithful in reading, and please continue!
Emma walked along the sidewalk, head-down and headphones resting securely in her ear canals. Some song she couldn't readily identify blared out of the phones connected to her iPod. It didn't really matter what the song was, so long as it was loud and angry and fueled the fire inside of the Sheriff.
It wasn't fair, really. She was the Savior. She dedicated an obscene amount of her own personal time to getting everyone else in that stupid town their happy endings. Finding the people they love and reuniting them. It was her speciality. All that time, though, she'd had a nagging question in the back of her head. What about her? Where was her True Love? Where was her happy ending? She could find everyone else's but her own. It wasn't fair. She'd began to think that maybe she didn't get one. Maybe, as the Savior, there was a magical clause written somewhere in the contract she hadn't signed that said she didn't get a True Love. She was just supposed to make sure everyone else did. Which, in her opinion, was fucking bullshit. It wasn't like she'd asked for this shit. She hadn't wanted to be the Savior. Gold just fucking signed her up for it. She'd never asked to be everyone's hope for happiness. She just wanted to find her own.
She'd done it, though. She'd found her True Love-or at least the one person in the world she imagined it could possibly be. She'd found someone she knew would give her a happy ending-and that person thought she was nothing more than an idiot.
How's that for cruel irony? She thought to herself with a bitter smirk. If she ever found the smart-ass who wrote all this story book-fate shit, she'd lay them out flat.
Emma stepped inside Granny's, removing one headphone but keeping her face as stony as before. Hopefully, everyone would see the look in her eyes and leave her the fuck alone. She was in no mood for small talk. It seemed to work as no one said a word to her as she dropped into a back booth. They'd probably all seen the public shaming Regina had given her the day before and knew she was not to be crossed that afternoon.
"Hey, Emma," Ruby said somewhat cautiously. "You want your usual order?"
"Yeah," the Sheriff nodded her head absently. "Thanks."
"Are you alright?" The waitress asked, and Emma bit her tongue to keep from snapping off at her. Ruby was her friend, and she had good intentions. No need to go psycho on her.
"Yeah," the blonde said through clenched teeth. "I'm fine. Just hungry."
"Okay," Ruby nodded, stepping back from the table. It didn't take her wolf sense to pick up on Emma's mood, and she knew better than to push her luck when she was like that. The Sheriff may have been a good friend, but Ruby had seen her when someone got on her bad side, and, though she'd never felt it before, that right hook didn't look like any joke. "I'll have your food out for you."
"Thanks, Ruby." Emma rested her forehead against the table and closed her eyes. She just wanted to forget. She wanted to forget all about the whole Regina-trio problem. She wanted to forget about how pissed off the mayor had looked at her yesterday. She wanted to forget about why she cared so much what Regina thought of her. Ever since she'd confessed her feelings for her son's adoptive mother, she'd felt like complete shit. It sucked. She finally admitted to herself what she really had known for months, but she couldn't do anything about it. She knew better than to think something real could ever happen between her and Regina Mills. She was little more than a sex toy to the mayor, and their relationship would never be anything beyond physical. Hell, with how pissed off Regina had looked the previous day, it might not even be that anymore.
"Emotions suck," Emma mumbled to herself, brow pinched tightly. Whoever said the truth would set you free obviously wasn't talking about love.
"Oh, I agree entirely." The Savior didn't need to lift her head to know who was sitting across from her in the booth. That velvet-like voice and the high-heeled foot that was now rubbing up and down her shin suggestively were more than recognizable. "Except for anger. Anger is a good emotion, and I suggest you hang onto it. Most people say let it go, but they've never felt the sweet release of revenge. Nothing in the world can compare to it." She chuckled seductively. "Well, almost nothing."
Lifting her head and removing the only headphone left in her ear, Emma stared at the Evil Queen, who smiled back at her widely.
"What are you doing here?" She asked in a small voice.
The queen's smile dimmed. "You don't want me here? I thought we had a wonderful time the other night."
"We did," Emma assured her. "I mean, it was fun, and I liked it. But I'm in enough trouble over it right now. If my parents walk in and see us together again, they may literally lock me away in a tower for another twenty-eight years."
"Ah, I see," the dark-haired woman nodded, a glimmer in her eyes. "Your parents."
There was something in her voice that hinted at far more, and Emma didn't like it. "What? Why are you saying it like that?"
"No reason," the queen shrugged her shoulders, and Emma thought it was so strange to see such a regal woman doing something so casual. "We both know, dear, that it isn't your parents you are most worried about being caught by." Emma's lower lip disappeared between her teeth, and she chewed so hard on it that the iron taste of blood filled her mouth. "My better half left quite the impression on you yesterday."
"I just don't want to give her more reason to hate me," the Sheriff muttered, eyes dropping to the floor.
"You think the reason she reacted so harshly yesterday is because she hates you?" The queen asked.
Emma shrugged. "She made it pretty clear what she thinks of me."
"Oh, Emma." The blonde raised her eyes to find the queen smiling at her. "Dear, please, do not be as foolish as your parents. Open your eyes and see what is right in front of you."
Emma looked at her for a moment. She observed the wide, yet warm smile on the queen's lips and the way her dark eyes sparkled at her. There was something in those eyes. Something she couldn't fully read. Or rather something she couldn't wrap her head around. Surely it wasn't what she thought. Then, there was the heeled foot rubbing circles into her calf. It was a soft caress. Not sexually-charged. Not predatory. It was gentle and almost...
Emma shook her head. "Just because you feel that way doesn't mean she does."
"Dear, she is me," the queen said.
"I know that, but she doesn't believe it," the Sheriff said. "She still thinks that all three of you are different people. That the separation isn't just magic." She sighed. "I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have let myself fall for her. I mean, really, what are the odds that someone like her could ever like me? I mean, she was the queen in your world, and she's the mayor in mine."
"You were a princess," Regina reminded her.
"Yeah, for like two seconds," Emma argued. "It's not like I was ever really royal. The only thing I've ever been in my life that I can remember is an orphan. Somebody that nobody wanted or cared about. I'm a loser-I always have been. You want to know what I was doing the day Henry found me? I was blowing out one stupid candle on one stupid cupcake, wishing myself a happy fucking birthday because no one else was around to. How pathetic is that?" She shook her head. "Regina Mills is so out of my league it isn't even funny."
"She's not out of your league," the queen said in a low, serious voice that surprised Emma. Her expression was dark and even angry. For the first time, Emma actually felt a little afraid of her. "You are the one who's too good for her, Emma." The blonde frowned. "You've given her everything, and you've done so much for her. Everyday, you try to make her smile or laugh. You would do anything just to make her happy. You promised to find her happy ending, even when you knew it would hurt you in the end. If she doesn't see how wonderful you are, that's her loss."
"H-How do you know all of that?" Emma asked, eyes wide. "I've never said that stuff to anyone."
The queen smiled. "Let's just say tequila loosens your tongue considerably, darling."
"Oh," Emma frowned to herself, blush rising into her cheeks. "So, when you left that note the morning after...?"
"You told me that you felt like everyone just wanted something from you," she answered. "That all their expectations were crushing you. Your parents want the sweet princess they sent away all those years ago. Henry wants the hero from his story book. This town wants their Savior. You said you felt like they all want to change you from who you are, and mold you into what they need."
"And Regina?" Emma asked, her breath caught in her throat. "What did I say she wanted me to be?"
The Evil Queen's smile softened. "You said you weren't sure what she needed from you, but whatever it was, you'd be it gladly." She placed her hand over Emma's tenderly. "You shouldn't have to change for people, Emma. Especially the ones who are supposed to care about you. They should be content with who you are as you are. Don't let anyone make you feel like you're less than good enough."
Emma smiled, laughing slightly. "Who would've thought the Evil Queen would make such a great therapist? You could run Archie out of business, your Majesty."
"No, I couldn't," the queen shook her head with a grin. "Everyone else would simply get a fireball to the head. My patience and compassion is limited strictly to you, my dear."
Emma started to say something back, but the squealing of tires against pavement sent her attention outside the diner. Standing to her feet, she looked out at the street and gasped at what she saw. Regina's Benz was stopped in the middle of the road, black rubber painted in tracks against the asphalt, while Mary-Margaret stood directly in front of it, a mere inches from the hood ornament. Regina threw her car door open and stormed out, fury burning in her eyes.
"Mom," Emma groaned to herself as she pushed the door to the diner open and stepped outside. "What are you doing?"
"Are you insane?" Regina demanded, marching up to Mary-Margaret with clenched fists that looked like they'd love nothing more than to connect with the schoolteacher's cheekbone. "Or do you simply have a death wish? If so, I will be more than happy to fulfill it."
"Guys, stop." Emma jogged up to the two of them, frowning. "Everyone calm down, okay?" She faced her mother, who offered her little more than a side glance. Emma had never seen her like that before. There was an angry scowl stamped across her usually pleasant face that made her nearly unrecognizable. Emma wondered if she was getting a look at Snow White instead of the Mary-Margaret she'd known for so long. "What's the problem?"
"The problem is your mother is an idiot!" Regina snapped, glaring knives at the pixie-haired woman. She'd long ago dropped any real animosity towards Snow White, but she was beginning to feel that familiar itch to hurl a fireball at the woman's head.
"Like mother, like daughter, I guess," Emma grumbled, and Regina frowned over at her. If Emma had been looking at her, she would've seen the apology that the brunette couldn't voice in her eyes. However, she faced her mother and refused to allow herself a look over at Regina. "What's going on, Mom?"
"I want to know what you've done to my daughter," Mary-Margaret said in a low voice that didn't even resemble her usual chipper tone, "and I want to know it now."
"Excuse me?" Regina cocked an eyebrow at her. "What I've done to your daughter? I think you're confused, dear."
"Mom," Emma frowned. "What are you talking about? Regina hasn't done anything to me."
"Then she did!" She pointed to the Evil Queen who had just stepped out of the diner. Her eyes glimmered evilly at Snow White, and Emma angled herself between her mother and the queen, knowing she was far more a threat to Mary-Margaret than the mayor. "What did you do? Curse her? Put her under some sort of delusion spell? Stealing twenty eight years of her life from me wasn't enough punishment, was it? You have to do this, too?"
"Mom!" Emma's tone was commanding, and they all looked at her. "Stop yelling at her, and calm down. You're not making any sense. I'm not under any kind of spell."
"You must be!" Mary-Margaret insisted, stamping her foot like a petulant child. Emma fought the urge to roll her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's the only thing that explains what you said." Emma furrowed her brow, and her mother sighed. "I-I heard you last night... when you were talking to Neal."
Emma's eyes widened. "You were eavesdropping?"
"No," Mary-Margaret shook her head. "I was just worried about you, and I came to check on you. I didn't mean to overhear-it just happened." Her expression hardened. "I know my daughter wouldn't say that. Not unless she was forced to."
"Does anyone want to fill me in on what's going on here?" Regina demanded, looking between the two in frustration. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm not under a spell," Emma said in a voice that was only barely above a whisper. "I know that's hard for you to understand, but it's true. What I said... I meant it." Mary-Margaret's eyes widened as Emma hugged her stomach, eyes on the ground. "I meant all of it."
"How is that possible?" Mary-Margaret asked.
The blonde shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. It just is." She sniffled. "I-I really have to go."
"We need to talk about this," her mother said, and Emma shook her head stubbornly in response.
"No, we really don't," she frowned.
"Emma-" Regina started, seeing the raw emotion on her face even though she didn't understand why it was there. She wanted to reach her hand out to her, but something inside of her wouldn't let her.
"I'm not going to talk about this right now!" Emma snapped at both of them, lifting her head and revealing red-rimmed eyes. "I'm done, alright?" She turned on her heel but then stopped in front of the Evil Queen. Her dark eyes were locked onto Mary-Margaret and glinting maliciously. Her hands were twisted into claws, and her teeth bared like a wild animal. Reaching out, Emma placed a hand on her shoulder, and those dark eyes flickered down to her. "Don't. It's not worth it. You're better than that."
There was hesitation as the queen looked from Snow White, the woman she'd spent years trying to kill, to Emma Swan, the woman who made her want to be the good person she believed her to be. For a tense moment, no one moved. The mayor and Mary-Margaret seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for an explosion. Emma, however, was calm and collected. She had total confidence that the queen would make the right choice.
With an audible sigh, the Evil Queen relaxed. She focused her gaze on Emma, who gave her a small, proud smile.
"Thank you, " she whispered to her.
The queen smiled back at her. "Thank you, Savior, for believing in me."
Then, her smile disappeared, and her expression contorted into one of agony. She doubled over, letting out a small grunt. Behind her, Emma heard a small cry and turned. Both Reginas were nearly on their knees, gripping their chests and breathing hard.
"What's wrong?" Emma demanded, eyes wide as she looked between the two women. "What's the matter?"
"I-I don't know," Regina huffed through the twisting pain in her chest. "It... It feels like my heart... it's slowing down." And just then, Emma saw the shudder. The slight draining of color in both of the women. It was like they dimmed slightly. Like they were fading away.
"Ma!" She looked back and saw Henry racing to her, wide-eyed and clearly afraid. "Ma, something's wrong with young Mom-she's in pain!" Her looked to the other two versions of his mother. "They've got it, too? What's the matter?"
"I don't know," Emma shook her head, eyes dark. "But I intend to find out. Stay here with your mothers-take care of them, Henry." He nodded obediently.
The Savior turned and marched down the street, fists clenched and jaw squared.
"Where are you going?" Her mother called, following along behind her.
Emma glared ahead, heart thumping madly as the image of Regina's pained expression flashed in her mind over and over again. "Going to pay the Dark One a little visit."