Chapter Twenty Three

Underneath her thin silk pyjamas Regina could feel her body shivering. The clock tower somewhere on the other side of Storybrooke was chiming one o'clock and her eyes had been fighting her refusal to let them close for the last half hour, but she still remained sat upright in bed. She pulled the covers more tightly around her and cleared her throat. Reaching out a hand, she turned to the next page.

Emma's book was sitting in her lap. For some reason, looking at it without her there with her made Regina feel guilty. Something was squeezing at her stomach, telling her to stop even though Emma had already given her permission to go through it whenever she liked. This was the first time that Regina had done so. She already wished that she hadn't.

Over the last week Emma had been round to the mayor's mansion three times in order to work on that photo album. Progress had been haltingly slow, involving a worrying amount of tantrums whenever Emma had decided that she just didn't want to look at it anymore – but at least there was some progress to be had. The book now had photos sporadically spread throughout its pages, mapping out the distorted, fragmented timeline of Emma's life before Storybrooke had gotten its hands on her, and Regina found that looking at it all was slowly beginning to make her heart hurt. There was a roaring sound in her ears that wouldn't go away.

She looks so… angry.

Angry at herself. Angry at everyone. In every photo that familiar downturn of Emma's lips seemed only to grow sharper and her green eyes, Regina realised with a sigh, only seemed to become harder.

Emma was asking herself, year after year, the very same question that Henry had once, many years before, asked her: but why would someone give me up?

Regina suddenly snapped the book shut and kicked it to the end of her bed. She watched as it tumbled over the edge and landed on the carpet with a thud.

It was her fault, of course. All of it. That was a fact that never stopped niggling away at her; that never stopped making her want to spit at her own reflection whenever she looked in the mirror. But seeing it all laid out in that damned book that she herself had practically forced Emma to start building… it made something ache inside of her. It made her want to scrape the very skin from her arms because suddenly she didn't want to be in that cold, heartless body for another moment longer.

She fell back against her pillows, throwing an arm across her face. Quite inexplicably the image of her tree came to her, and she groaned with realisation: Emma, and the tree – they were the only two things in that entire world that she truly regretted hurting.

That tree had been uprooted time and time again, ripped from gardens and forced into new worlds where it could never truly belong. Regina had always felt like it was a part of her, for that reason. Only now was she realising that the tree was in fact Emma: she was just the person who had hacked it down in the first place.

Her stomach had gone cold again.

Thinking back to her son, who was sleeping soundly on the other side of the house, she found herself wondering yet again about his latest scheme to break her curse: how he seemed utterly convinced that, should his mother's evilness weaken… then it would too.

She couldn't explain why she felt quite so devastated by the fact that this would apparently never happen.

She broke people: that is what she did. She killed and she cheated, and yet for some reason she couldn't even bring herself to feel as guilty about that as she did about the fact that she had once uprooted a tree and then left a strange, blonde child to be raised alone.

Regina groaned, rubbing her hands over her tired eyes.

You are banished, she reminded herself of the words that even all those years ago had made her heart stop. Banished to live alone with your misery.

Her misery had certainly followed her. And so, apparently, had her cruelty.

She swallowed, looking towards the end of the bed, where the reminder of just how cruel she could be now lay in a heap on the floor.

'It's never going to break,' she said out loud. Her voice was low, throbbing with something that sounded like regret. 'She'll never know.'

She clutched a hand over her chest the moment that the words left her lips. Because it hurt her to think of it – of how Emma could never, and would never, truly know who she was.

'She would leave if she found out,' she reminded herself, shaking her head. But for some reason, that sentence hurt her slightly less than the previous one.

She would rather have that: have Emma hate her and leave her, because she had for once in her life done a real, human thing. Even that was preferable to this – to keeping her trapped, locked inside a curse, loving somebody unlovable simply because she didn't know any different.

As soon as the clock in her office struck five o'clock, Emma leapt to her feet and headed for the door.

It was Tuesday. Henry always went to see Archie on Tuesdays, which meant that Regina would be at home alone and Emma had no reason to not go to her house to see her. Of course, this meant that she would also be forced to look at the photo album again – but it was worth it. It was always worth it

Any time that she saw the front cover of that damned book she felt her chest tighten slightly: looking through it was still impossibly hard, and yet… the touch of Regina's hand against her elbow, or the sight of an encouraging smile being thrown her way, somehow seemed to make it just that tiny bit easier.

It was worth it, either way. And that was all that she cared about.

She drove across town to Mifflin Street and, parking her bug against the kerb outside, strode up the path towards the front door. She gave her usual three, short knocks and waited for Regina to come and answer.

She didn't hear her coming before she suddenly arrived. Emma blinked when the door opened in front of her.

'Regina?'

Regina paused.

'Emma,' she replied, swallowing before she tried to smile. 'Hello. I... I didn't expect to see you today.'

Emma's eyes slid down Regina's body for a moment: something was different. She was wearing black slacks and a dark turtle neck sweater, and her hand had already crept up to grip at the thick fabric that covered her throat. But that wasn't what was strange: above it, Regina's face was pale and completely make up-less. Her usual fierce slash of lipstick had somehow disappeared and her dark hair was hanging limply from her head.

And below it all… she wasn't wearing any shoes.

Emma swallowed nervously.

'It's Tuesday,' she eventually managed to force out. Regina smiled again, nodding.

'Of course it is,' she said quietly. Her bare toes curled uncomfortably against the floor. 'Sorry. It must have, ah… slipped my mind.'

Emma nodded. 'Is now a bad time?'

'No,' Regina said quickly, stepping to one side despite herself. 'Of course not. Come in. I was just doing some… housework.'

Emma sidled past her. She hadn't felt this strange, awkward air around Regina for a long time, and she wasn't sure what to do in it. She felt like she didn't want to breath it in in case it poisoned her.

'Is everything okay?' she asked as Regina silently led her into the living room. The photo album was nowhere to be seen, but Emma didn't register this. She was too busy watching as Regina sat down on the couch and smiled up at her.

It didn't reach her eyes.

'Of course.'

Emma nodded, reluctantly joining her. Sitting this close to her, she couldn't help but notice that Regina had the same tell-tale signs of having not slept a wink that she recognised in her own mirror day in and day out. She bit down on her bottom lip.

'Regina…'

'Would you like a drink?' Regina suddenly asked, going to stand up again. Emma immediately reached out, snatching hold of her wrist and pulling her back down onto the sofa.

'No,' she said simply, shuffling closer to her. She watched as Regina flinched, trying to edge further backwards so that Emma couldn't see her puffy eyes or her pale skin. 'Regina? What's happened?'

'Nothing.'

'Bullshit. Something's wrong. Is it Henry?'

'Henry's fine, Miss Swan. I—'

'Emma.'

'What?'

'Not Miss Swan. Emma.'

'Right. Of course. Sorry – old habits die hard.'

Emma tilted her head to one side, pursing her lips slightly. 'You know you only do that when something's bothering you.'

'What?'

'Call me Miss Swan. You only do it if you're upset or angry… but you don't look angry to me.'

'Emma…'

'Tell me,' Emma said calmly, shuffling closer to her. When Regina opened her mouth to protest she reached out, trailing her hand down the side of her face until those dark eyes fluttered closed. 'Regina. Please.'

She heard Regina's breath hitch in her chest. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around Emma's wrist, but she didn't try and pull her hand away. Rather she almost seemed to press it closer to her cheek – like she was simply relishing the feeling of being touched.

She swallowed, then shook her head slightly.

'Why do you like me?' she asked quietly, her eyes still closed.

Emma blinked. 'Sorry?'

'You like me,' Regina repeated with a sigh. 'For some reason. Why is that?'

'I…' Emma faltered, watching as Regina's watery eyes flickered back open and stared up at her. 'I don't know what you mean. Why are you asking me?'

Regina opened her mouth to respond, then fell silent once more. Her eyes were darting across Emma's face, taking in the sharp, anxious downturn of her lips and the blue-green glisten of her oceanic eyes. She was memorising them. Emma flinched when she realised it.

'I'm asking because…' Regina cleared her throat, finally pulling Emma's hand away from her face. She drew it down onto her lap, clutching it between both of her own. 'I can't… understand why.'

Emma blinked. 'This is only an issue now?'

'No,' Regina sighed. 'I've always wondered. But right now… I don't know, Emma. I've just been thinking about it – about you, and me, and what you need in your life – and suddenly I'm confused as to why on earth, out of everyone you've ever met, you decided that I am the right person to give you all of that. Why I am the person that you think will be good for you, and keep you safe, and won't… hurt you.'

She watched as Emma's face clouded over. 'I… don't know any of that.'

'You don't?'

'Of course I don't,' Emma said, squeezing down on her fingers. 'How would I? I thought that Henry's father would look after me forever and look how that turned out. No… I just… I don't know, Regina. I just know that being with you, it… feels… right, somehow. It feels like I've been waiting in my darkened room for twenty eight years and suddenly you've shown up with a candle. That's it. That's all I know and that's all I want to know – that's enough for me.'

'So if I was someone else,' Regina said slowly, all of a sudden unable to meet Emma's eye. 'If I was… a bad person. Really bad. If I had hurt a lot of people… that still wouldn't bother you?'

Something sharp squeezed at Emma's chest. 'Regina?'

'Would it?'

'…I don't know,' Emma said quietly, reaching out with the edge of her knuckle to tilt Regina's chin upwards. When Regina finally looked back at her once again, she was blinking furiously to stop her eyes from spilling over with tears. 'It would suck, obviously. It would. But if that's not who you are now…? If you'd changed since then? Then who the hell am I to judge you for what you may have done before. I mean, hell – you don't want to know what kind of mess I was when I was younger. I did all kinds of shit that would make your stomach turn. But I'm not that girl anymore – I'm not eighteen and I don't steal from convenience stores and I don't tend to end up in jail so much anymore either. Or, not recently, anyway.'

Regina forced a watery smile, watching as Emma's eyes softened.

'Everyone does stuff that they regret, Regina,' she said quietly, leaning forwards. 'Everyone. But as long as you move on from it, and try to make things right again – then who gives a shit? Not me. Never me.'

Regina's stomach plummeted. Since when have you ever tried to make what you did right again, Your Majesty?

'I wouldn't be so sure about that,' she said softly, leaning back against the couch.

Emma frowned, watching as Regina rubbed her hand over both of her eyes. She noticed then that her pants were slightly crumpled, and the nail varnish on her fingers was chipped. She didn't look like Regina, and it broke her heart.

Emma slid sideways across the couch, slipping one arm around Regina's narrow waist so that she could tug her towards her. Regina flinched, trying to pull away. And then suddenly she realised that her legs were draped across Emma's lap, her forehead was pressed into Emma's neck, and all she could smell was the scent of vanilla wafting from soft, clean blonde curls. She sighed, feeling Emma's fingers pressing against her ribs, and closed her eyes.

'Why are you worrying about this, Regina?'

Regina shrugged. 'One of us has to.'

'Has to what?' Emma said dryly, shaking her head. 'Pick holes in absolutely everything? Panic about things turning to shit when, for once in both of our lives, things are actually going well?'

Regina sighed. 'No. Emma… I just…'

'Stop thinking like this.'

'Like what?'

'Like I'm suddenly going to wake up and realise who I'm with and disappear forever. I know what I'm doing, Regina – I know what I'm here for.'

'And what is that?' Regina murmured, looking down at where her legs were childishly thrown over Emma's.

Emma leaned forwards against her forehead and muttered her response in one, easy word. 'You.'

The pain that had been stabbing through Regina's chest all day momentarily subsided, replaced by an overwhelming, drowning warmth that threatened to smother her then and there. Forcing down a smile, she buried her face in Emma's neck and pressed a kiss against the jut of her collar bone. She let that feeling envelope her for a moment – the feeling of someone holding her, and caring about her, and not giving a damn about the dark dresses and the dark past and the dark secrets that followed her. She let out an unsteady breath, feeling Emma's hold on her grow even tighter.

And then the words leaked from her lips, bubbling above the surface without her thinking about it. 'I just don't understand how this happened.'

Emma's body tensed up beneath hers. She replied on a sharp inhale. '…how what happened?'

'This. Us,' Regina sighed. She was talking to herself more than she was talking to Emma, and so the words kept dribbling from her mouth even when she told them not to. 'What we have. I don't understand how you fell into my life, so willing to be near me. So willing to be with me, when I've never deserved it. When I've never deserved you.'

Emma tried to pull away, ready to protest and force her to look back up at her again, but Regina tightened her grip on her tiny waist and continued to bury her face into her hair.

'It's so typical of you, you know,' she continued, mumbling the words into Emma's curls. 'You're chaotic. You tumble in and out of things without thinking about what you might break.'

She immediately felt the tightening of Emma's muscles beneath her fingertips.

'And what exactly have I broken, Madame Mayor?'

When Regina replied, her voice was flat. 'Me. You've broken me.'

'How have I—?'

Regina interrupted her with a sigh. A single sigh that told her just how exhausted she was.

She fell weakly against Emma's side before she said it.

'I'm in love with you, Emma.'

And there it was. The clocks stopped ticking.

When Emma didn't reply right away, she could feel Regina's body beginning to deflate beneath her touch. She sucked in a breath, trying to force out some words – any words. But there was a roaring in her ears and suddenly electricity was sparking through her nerves, short-circuiting her brain. She felt like she was on fire and her mind couldn't tell her how to move.

'You…' she eventually choked out. '…you are?'

The suspicion in her voice was palpable. But, beneath that, something that sounded dangerously like hopefulness was bubbling through.

Regina didn't hear it.

'Yes, Miss Swan,' she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. 'And it is terrible. This is a complication - and you know that I don't like complications.'

She couldn't see it but somehow, for some reason, she could feel Emma smiling into the top of her hair.

'Yeah,' she replied softly. 'I do know.'

With a huff, Regina suddenly pulled away from her. She left her legs outstretched across Emma's, but the rest of her body ended up leaning back against the arm of the sofa, her hands clutching at the soft material of the cushions. Emma watched her, biting down on her bottom lip with that faint smile still tugging at her cheeks.

'Like I said,' Regina snapped, glaring at her. 'This is typical of you – making me fall in love with you without my permission.'

Emma quickly bit at the inside of her cheek, forcing herself not to laugh.

'Yeah,' she choked out. 'I mean… that is something that I do a lot. It's all part of my charm.'

'You've ruined me,' Regina grumbled. 'I'm late for everything. I keep smiling at absolutely nothing like a complete fool. I haven't had more than four hours sleep a night in the last month and I can't concentrate on anything because all I can think about is you and when I'm going to see you next. You know that I served Henry chocolate cereal before school last week?'

'You didn't?' Emma said, smirking. 'God forbid.'

'He's only allowed that on Saturdays, Emma!' Regina sounded nearly hysterical as she threw her hands up into the air. 'And before you came along he wasn't even allowed that. See what else you've done? You've given our son tooth decay.'

Emma continued to bite down on her bottom lip, trying to stop herself from sniggering. 'Another part of my ingenious plan: move to Storybrooke, make the mayor… fall in love with me, and then force her to pay hundreds of dollars in dental bills. If you wait long enough then you'll see the fourth stage where I get the kid addicted to glue.'

'This isn't funny, Emma!' Regina finally exploded, glaring at her. 'You've made everything – everything – complicated. I'm not supposed to love you! I'm not even supposed to like you. Things were so much simpler when I resented your every move and I spent my evenings dreaming about the ways in which I could make your untimely demise look like an accident. Now I spend them wishing that you were here, wondering what you're doing, wondering why I haven't heard from you all day. I've become weak and broken and pathetic, and it is all your fault.'

Finally Emma reached out, tucking a single strand of dark hair behind Regina's ear.

'But it is funny,' she said softly, letting her hand linger against the side of Regina's face. 'Because you're acting like falling in love with me is the worst thing that you could possibly do. Like it's only going to lead to absolute disaster, and to you getting your heart broken.'

'And you're so sure that it isn't?' Regina muttered, watching as Emma's face creased into yet another smile.

'I am,' Emma said quietly.

'How?'

Emma's cheeks went pink for a moment as she sucked in a breath between her teeth.

'Because if you would take just one second to look around you,' she said, her eyes focusing on nothing but the nervous darkness of Regina's expression, 'you would notice that, actually – I'm in love with you too.'

And it felt like the moment before the rain starts.

Regina froze. She watched the way that Emma's eyes were flickering across her face, taking in every single glimmer of fear and confusion and hope. Sheer, cold terror licked at the base of her stomach. But beyond that – far beyond that, burning its way through it – was a sense of relief so strong that tears began to slide down her face without her realising.

'You… you are?' she choked out. 'You mean it?'

Emma half laughed, her face breaking into a pathetic grin that was so wide it made her eyes crease. She didn't need to reply to the question – she just nodded, watching the hot tears that were slipping down to Regina's lips, and leaned forwards to meet them.

Pressing Regina back against the arm of the couch, Emma let her hands trail up her body and rest on either side of her face. It was warm, and make up-less, and smiling. The feeling of it beneath her fingers made Emma groan from deep within her chest and all of a sudden her lips were moving furiously, her tongue snaking out and twirling around Regina's. Regina never resisted. She slid her hands down Emma's body, cupping her firmly around the back pockets of her jeans, and pulled her closer to her. As Emma pressed her body over hers, Regina let herself slide down flat across the couch. Emma's weight and warmth covered her, and it felt like she was being anchored. She grinned against Emma's lips once more, the relieved tears on her cheeks finally drying, as she hooked her fingers through the waistband of her jeans.

Emma's hands found their way to the bottom of her turtle neck, tugging it up and away from her body so quickly that Regina didn't even notice the light changing. Then suddenly Emma's mouth had separated from hers and was buried against her neck, sucking at her skin like it was a bowl of ice cream; dragging her front teeth across Regina's pulse point and only digging them in fully when she felt the piercing sensation of long nails raking down her lower back.

Regina bent her legs and wound them around Emma's waist, holding her tightly against her body. Emma sighed – her breath was so impossibly warm against Regina's throat. Regina's back arched slightly when she felt those now hopelessly familiar lips trailing further down her throat, reaching the sharp jut of her collar bone and hovering there for a moment. Her tongue sneaked out and buried itself in the shallow trench beside it. When Regina gasped, Emma grinned. Then she reached behind her, tightening the grip of the legs that were currently wrapped around her hips, before returning her hands to the sides of Regina's body.

She dragged her nails in a slow line down the bare flesh of Regina's stomach, letting them rise and fall against each arch of her ribcage. With every drop, Regina whimpered. Emma's blunt nails felt like blades, cutting burning paths through her skin, and she found that she almost wanted them to hurt. She wanted to feel as much of Emma as possible, to know that she was really, truly there – that she was hers and hers alone.

Then Regina felt her legs beginning to straighten out as they were carried downwards with the movement of Emma's body: she was inching backwards on the couch, dragging her tongue down the flatness between Regina's breasts. Regina moaned softly as her fingers lost contact with Emma's jacket, and she reached out vainly to try and grab hold of something else. In a flash, Emma had snatched up her wrists and pinned them down against the couch.

She laughed when Regina's eyes shot open in surprise. Then she returned to her previous position against her chest, nipping at every tiny millimetre of skin and shivering with every minute whimper that escaped from Regina's goose pimpled throat.

As Regina began to suck in her breaths, trying desperately to regain some control of herself when she couldn't have any control over the situation, Emma's eyes were curiously drawn to the way that her ribcage appeared and vanished beneath the translucent leaves of her skin. She leaned forwards, her eyes still open, and dragged the flat of her tongue across the round flesh of Regina's breast: the moment that she did, Regina's back arched and those ribs reappeared. They looked like the remains of a shipwreck, desperately trying to force their way through the sand.

Emma edged slightly further down her body and closed her eyes. As she rolled her tongue out from between her lips, she let it graze over the bars of that cage.

Regina moaned, throwing her head back, and Emma smirked into her skin: she bared her teeth and nipped gently at one of the bumps. She could feel Regina's heartbeat thundering both beneath her lips and beneath the fingers that were wrapped fiercely around her wrists, and with every frantic pulse that it gave she realised that she could feel her own chest starting to shudder. Sighing to herself, she buried her face against Regina's stomach and let her mouth trace the tiny waves that rode from her breasts down to her navel. When she reached the bottom rung of that ladder, she bit down again as sharply as she could. Regina suddenly groaned out loud, finally tearing her wrists free of Emma's grip and burying them in her hair.

As Emma pressed kisses along the lowest ridge of her ribcage, Regina tightened her legs around her body and began to let her hips roll forwards. Emma felt it, and she pinned her more firmly down into the couch to keep her still. Regina whimpered in response, bunching her hands into fists amongst Emma's curls and pulling, trying to drag her back upwards again to meet her gasping lips.

But Emma just propped herself up onto her elbows, smiling slyly.

'What?' Regina panted when she registered the sudden loss of contact. She saw the glint in Emma's eye, and for some reason felt her insides melt.

'I was just wondering if you're still mad at me,' she said quietly, raising one eyebrow. 'You know – for my wildly irresistible charms and all.'

Regina forced herself not to laugh. Trailing a single finger up the front of Emma's throat, she relished the sight of her forcing herself not to shiver.

'Of course I am,' she said in a low voice. 'I'm always angry at you, Miss Swan. It's just lucky for you that, recently, I've learned to channel that into something slightly more productive.'

Emma's other eyebrow shot up. She bit down on her lower lip and smirked.

'Oh really?' she said coolly, leaning forwards until her lips were separated from Regina's by just the thinnest wisp of air. 'And what is that?'

Bracing her leg against the side of the couch, Regina suddenly twisted her body round until Emma was tumbling down to the carpet with a yelp. Regina landed on top of her, pinning her body down onto the ground, and crushed Emma's lips against her own. Emma's arms promptly slid around her neck, tugging her closer until their mouths were moving together in a mash of tongues and teeth and sighing. Regina edged her fingers underneath Emma's shirt, trailing the backs of her nails upwards until Emma shuddered so violently that her head automatically flung itself backwards. Regina watched her in that moment; taking in the smooth white flesh of her neck and the furiously thudding pulse that was scratching away below the surface. She felt her heart swell, and her stomach drop.

She bent forwards, pressing a kiss against the delicate skin of Emma's throat, and let her eyes flicker closed.

'I love you,' she murmured, kissing her again when she felt her pulse quicken. 'I love you, I love you, I love you.'

Emma's hands trailed up her back, digging into the dip of her spine and easing her upwards. Their mouths met once more, and even as they kissed slowly and fully and completely, Regina kept muttering the words that had been threatening to break out of her chest for so many weeks before.

Emma pulled away after a moment, reaching out to hold Regina's face between her hands. She looked up at her, at her heaving chest and her desperately worried eyes. She was almost certain that she fell in love with her all over again in that moment.

'I love you too,' she said simply. Regina's face cracked into a smile, and suddenly they fell together again.

Both of them could so easily feel the thundering of the other one's heartbeat against their own chest, and neither of them could quite tell them apart. Neither of them wanted to.

Because all of a sudden, neither Emma nor Regina could recognise the beating of the other woman's heart as something that didn't belong exclusively to them, and to them alone.