Chapter Thirty-Two
'So I know that you've always been kind of eccentric,' Emma said as her way of greeting Regina. 'But is this not just a little bit whacko even by your standards?'
As she spoke she gestured to the graveyard that surrounded them. Regina had been sat on a bench there for some time, her hands buried in the pockets of her coat and her feet rocking nervously back on their heels as she had waited for Emma to arrive. She had spotted the fleck of blonde through the trees far sooner than she should have been able to. The moment that she had caught sight of it, her lungs had locked up.
Emma stood right in front of her now, shivering beneath her black leather jacket. She was still smiling. She hadn't noticed the pinched look of dread on Regina's face.
'So,' she said after a few moments, flopping down onto the bench beside her. 'Why the morbid setting?'
Regina swallowed. The cold air was scratching at her eyes and it was making them sting. She told herself that was the reason why they were already threatening to well up.
'I just needed to see you,' she eventually forced out.
'Okay,' Emma said, reaching down to draw Regina's hand out of her pocket. Regina looked down as their fingers automatically intertwined. 'But why here? Surely your house would have been just as good. Unless,' she said, looking suspiciously about her, '…today isn't the day that you've finally decided to kill and bury me, is it?'
Regina could hear the laughter in her voice and she almost cried at the easiness with which it came. She swallowed against the sharp pain at the back of her throat, finally dragging her eyes away from where her gloved hand was tangled up amongst Emma's slightly blue fingers, and forced herself to meet her gaze. It was hopeful. So painfully, naively unaware. She was smiling at Regina in the same way that she always had done; with her slightly crooked teeth showing and her eyes flashing with disbelief. Disbelief that she had found her, and fought for her, and won her.
But those green eyes dimmed the moment that they saw Regina's face collapsing. Regina looked away again at once: she realised in that moment that she would never earn one of those smiles again.
She felt her already-blackened heart shatter at the thought.
'Regina?' Emma asked, tugging on the hand that couldn't bear to let go of hers just yet. 'Hey. What's wrong? What's happened?'
Regina could only shake her head. Emma's fingers were so cold that she could feel them through her gloves, and suddenly all that she cared about was warming them up. Before she told her; before both of their realities turned black, she had to do one last good thing and warm those blue, wriggling fingers up.
She wrapped a second hand around them, watching the chipped nail polish disappearing beneath the black wool. Her pounding heart slowed down ever so slightly.
'Regina,' Emma murmured, twisting around to face her. 'You're scaring me.'
Regina had to force herself not to laugh.
How typical, she thought, shaking her head. I try to be good, and I terrify her.
Still looking down at their interlocked hands, she swallowed. She tried to take a breath and she heard it rattling around in her lungs. Her chest felt hollow. She felt… empty.
'You know that I love you,' she finally choked out. 'Don't you?'
'Regina,' Emma groaned. 'Please. What's—?'
'Don't you?'
Emma sighed, squeezing on her hand. Regina breathed a sigh of relief when she realised that it wasn't quite so cold anymore.
'Of course I do,' she said.
'And you…' Regina continued, clearing her throat. 'Do you love me too?'
'Regina, how can you even ask—'
'Do you?'
Her dark eyes had finally flicked back up to meet Emma's confused green ones. Emma let out a groan when she saw the tears that were welling up in them.
'I do,' she said gently. As the first tear dribbled down Regina's cheek she reached out her free hand to smear it away. 'Of course I do.'
Regina nodded. Hearing how easily Emma said it – how certain she was of it – somehow made her sit up straighter. Even as a familiar coldness filled her stomach, she was reminded of exactly why she needed to do this and suddenly her knees stopped bouncing.
'This was supposed to be my happy ending, you know,' she said after a few moments. 'It's… it's funny how things turn out.'
Emma was already frowning.
'Regina?'
'I thought that winning would make me happy,' she sighed, looking back down at their interlocked hands because the questioning look in Emma's eyes was already threatening to tear a hole in her chest. 'I really did. I thought that seeing other people suffering would make everything else – everything that I have ever been through – somehow worth it. And… well. It didn't. Not even close. I was still alone. Still unloved. Misery loves company and everyone around me was certainly miserable, but the difference was that they didn't know it: when the smoke cleared, they were still sleep-walking. I was the only one who was staggering around in the light.'
'Regina,' Emma said, squeezing on her hand. 'What the hell are you talking about? Are you… are you okay? You're not feverish are you?'
Regina looked back up just as Emma's free hand reached out to brush against her forehead.
'You know what I'm talking about, Emma.'
But Emma only frowned in response, feeling Regina's warm skin beneath her icy fingers.
'You're burning up, Regina.'
'Emma—'
'We need to get you home. Come on.'
She pulled her to her feet, and for a moment Regina could only blink. But then she felt Emma pulling on her hand, trying to lead her away, and she sharply tore herself away from her.
'No,' she said. 'Emma, please. You have to listen to me.'
'You're sick, Regina,' Emma said, holding out her hand. It was agonising, but Regina forced herself not to take it. 'Please, just let me take you home.'
'No,' Regina snapped, curling her hands into fists. 'I'm not ill. And I'm not going home. I'm just trying to tell you something and all I need from you, Emma, is for you to please, please, just try and hear me say it.'
The desperation in her voice hit Emma like she had been slapped, and her outstretched hand ever so slowly dropped back down to her side.
She couldn't push away the thought that struck her in that moment: Regina looked flushed and wild and desperate. She looked exactly like Graham had.
She hadn't listened to him either. Not really.
Regina watched as she sucked in a breath, forcing herself to nod.
'Okay,' she said quietly. 'Go ahead.'
Regina paused. She suddenly had Emma's attention – she had her permission to finally choke out the poisonous words that had been suffocating her for months. But she also had Emma's eyes on her: eyes that were worried, and patient. They were eyes that had seen and suppressed so much hurt already. She didn't deserve any more. Not Emma. Not her Emma.
Regina's gaze slid across to the silvery scar that ran down her temple. It was the only physical reminder of just how hurt Emma had truly been: the rest of her pain had been hidden away inside her tightly coiled frame, only surfacing in the occasional flash of recollection through her blue-green eyes like the sudden sight of a mermaid's tail breaking through the otherwise motionless ocean. It was only ever visible to those who really knew her – and Regina did know her. Regina knew exactly how much this would hurt her all over again, and yet she was going to do it anyway.
Please just let her forgive me.
She took a breath that was deep enough to fill even her empty chest.
'It's all true, Emma.'
Emma's expressionless eyes just blinked.
'What is?'
'Everything,' Regina said, taking a tentative step forwards. 'The… fairy stories. The curse. It all happened. It's all true.'
There was a flicker of something across Emma's face then, too quick to catch before it was replaced by a cautious smile.
'Regina,' she said, reaching out her hand once more. 'Come on. This isn't funny.'
'It's not supposed to be funny.'
'Then why are you saying it?'
'Because it's the truth,' Regina said. She wasn't sure her voice had ever sounded that pleading before. 'Emma… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I'm… I'm not who you think I am.'
'You're right about that,' Emma said, shaking her head. 'Because you're insane.'
Regina raised her eyes to the darkening sky, waiting for it to stop spinning around her.
'Why on earth would I say any of this,' she asked quietly, 'if it wasn't the truth?'
'I have no idea,' Emma said, folding her arms across her chest. 'Maybe this is just some stupid joke. Maybe you and Henry are up to something. I don't know. But it's ridiculous and, quite frankly, I'm a little insulted that you're even bothering. So can you just quit it, please, so that we can go home?'
Regina just blinked. 'We can't go home, Emma. Not yet. Not until you understand what I'm telling you.'
Emma groaned, rolling her eyes. 'Regina. Jesus Christ. Will you stop—'
'You promised!' Regina suddenly exploded, stepping as close to Emma as she dared. 'You promised that you would let me speak! Just let me explain it. I need you to know!'
'Know what?!' Emma spluttered. 'That you're a cartoon villain with magical powers? That you cursed an entire kingdom because some little girl pissed you off? Give me a break, Regina, I'm not a fucking moron. And, more to the point – you are not an evil queen. Why are you even doing this? Did Henry say something again? Because if he has, I'll kill him. He promised me that he'd stop with that. He promised me that he was through with it.'
Regina watched the actual, burning fury that was flashing through Emma's eyes, and she paused.
'You really don't think that I'm evil?'
'Are you kidding me?' Emma groaned. She reached out, ignoring Regina's flinch, and grazed the back of her hand against her cheek. 'Regina… Christ. Just because you have some anger issues, that doesn't make you evil. It makes you human. I mean, look – I know you. I know you better than anyone. You're scary and you're manipulative and you make me more nervous than I could have ever thought possible – but you're not evil. You're Regina. I know Regina, and I love Regina. That's it. That's all that matters.'
The world had gone very, very still around them. Regina watched Emma as she ground to a halt, her eyes flashing, and she felt her heart give one last, miserable thump. Then it seemed to stop beating altogether.
'Except that you don't,' she said quietly. She dropped her gaze to the ground and slowly held out one hand. Emma eyed it suspiciously.
'Don't what?'
'You don't know me,' Regina said. 'Not really. Not yet.'
Emma sighed, shaking her head. 'Christ. Regina—'
'Please,' Regina interrupted, her voice quiet. 'Please. Just… just come with me.'
Emma just looked at her for a moment, her forehead creasing. She bit down on her bottom lip. And then, finally, she released a sigh and reached out to take hold of the hand that will still waiting for her.
Regina's fingers squeezed around hers for just a second. It was pathetic, but she forced everything in that touch: she said thank you, and she said sorry. And then she turned away, her fingers still laced through Emma's, and began to lead her across the cemetery.
Emma nearly choked when they reached the vault.
'What the hell?' she ground out, trying to pull her hand back. But Regina didn't let go – not yet. Not when she still had something to hold onto.
'Emma—' she started, turning back to face her. But Emma was still furiously trying to tear herself free and immediately cut over the top of her.
'No,' she snapped, finally managing to wrench her fingers free. 'Regina – why the hell would you bring me here?'
'Because I need you to listen to me.'
'Here?!' Emma nearly screamed. 'We have one rule, Regina – one rule. We don't mention Graham. And we sure as hell don't make day trips to the spot where you last saw him alive.'
Forcing herself not to flinch, Regina reached her hand back out again.
'This isn't about Graham, Emma.'
...it wasn't yet, anyway.
'Then what is it about?'
'I told you,' Regina sighed, dropping her hand back to her side when she realised that Emma was never going to take it again. 'It's about getting you to listen.'
Emma groaned.
'You think that bringing me to your father's grave,' she drawled, watching as Regina walked to the door of the morgue and began to push it open, 'is somehow going to convince me that you're a cartoon?'
Regina winced. She kept pushing.
'Something like that.'
'I'm failing to see that happening, if I'm honest.'
'You will,' Regina said, swallowing. The door was open and she slowly stepped into the dank room. 'But first, I need to ask for your help. Just one more time.'
Emma took a step forwards and frowned. 'With what?'
Gesturing towards the coffin in the centre of the tomb, Regina said, 'Pushing that.'
Emma visibly jumped. 'What?! What the hell is taking the lid off of that thing going to achieve?!'
Regina narrowed her eyes. She had momentarily forgotten just how infuriatingly dense Emma could be.
It was funny how much she would miss it.
'We're not opening it,' she said as patiently as she could manage. She took a step towards her father's grave and ran a gloved hand across the side of it. 'We're moving it. But I... I can do it myself. Just wait a minute.'
Emma took a small step into the room, watching curiously as Regina started to brace herself against the coffin wall. There was a moment of quiet, Regina's strained breathing the only sound echoing off of the cold walls. And then there was the scrape of stone on stone; the screech of weight shifting. As the entrance appeared from beneath the casket, flickering candlelight spilling out onto the dirty floor, Emma nearly stumbled backwards.
'Woah,' she muttered, glancing up at Regina. 'What…?'
But Regina was holding out her hand once more. The low lighting in the room made her look older somehow. More vulnerable. But still Emma swallowed, looking down at the mysterious crypt that had appeared from beneath her feet, without reaching out to take it.
'…this isn't where you decide to kill and bury me, is it?'
Regina could have laughed at just how worried she sounded, if she wasn't just so, so tired.
She turned away and began to walk down those stairs. Shock jarred through her when she heard Emma's footsteps slowly following behind her – not only because no one had ever joined her on that journey before, but because now she knew that Emma was actually listening to her. Emma was still trusting her.
Emma was going to stop doing that very, very soon.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and Regina took the sharp turn to the right. Emma stayed close to her elbow, wanting to reach out and hold Regina's trembling hand, but forcing herself not to. Her eyes darted around the stone corridor that smelt of damp and leaves; cautiously eyeing the flickering candles that lined the walls and the way that their light didn't quite seem to reach Regina. She looked like a shadow as she slowly led Emma down the hallway, with her steps reluctant and her teeth biting furiously at her bottom lip.
A tear slid down her cheek and she scrubbed it away before Emma could see it.
The next set of stairs was narrower than the first, and the light suddenly vanished. Emma heard herself gasp as her hand shot out, finding Regina's in the dark without a thought. Regina squeezed back without turning around.
'It's alright,' she said softly. 'Come on.'
She led Emma down into a chamber where a line of stone arches made up the walls and ceiling. She couldn't bring herself to look up at the wall of squares that lay directly ahead of them.
Emma looked around her and, catching sight of the partially-drawn velvet curtains, frowned.
'Regina?' she asked. 'What is this?'
'This is…' Regina started, taking a small step forwards. She could smell Emma's hair as the sheriff peered over her shoulder, staggering along behind her like the darkness was catching her feet. '…this is what I needed to show you.'
Emma swallowed. 'You have an underground lair?'
There was a pause as Regina willed herself to be patient. 'Emma.'
'What?' Emma said, taking a tentative step out from behind her and edging towards the wall of boxes. Regina sucked in a breath through her teeth, resisting the overwhelming urge to reach out and pull her back. She felt like she was watching Henry trying to stick his arm through a cage of lions at the zoo – but Emma was going to get bitten whatever she did now. She couldn't stop it.
'Regina,' Emma continued, creeping forwards and letting her eyes scan over the hundreds of squares that were lined up before her. She thought that she could hear noises coming from some of them. She told herself after a moment that it must have been the furious beating that was coming from inside her own chest. 'Why is this here? What do you do down here?'
Regina quietly stepped up beside her, her fists pushed into her coat pockets.
'I don't… do anything,' she said, following Emma's gaze. Her eyes, somehow, were locked onto a box that had only become empty a few months before. On the same evening that Emma was last here.
A sharp pain shot through her body.
'Emma,' she said gently, waiting for her to turn and look at her once more. Her eyes, even in that dark room, shone with confusion and something that looked all too much like fear. 'You… you promised me that you would listen to me. Yes?'
Emma frowned. 'Yeah…'
'And you… you will try? You will let me explain this, and you will listen to what I have to say?'
'Explain what?' Emma said, her eyes flicking back across to the boxes. 'Your apparent fetish for underground interior design?'
'Emma,' Regina repeated, more sharply this time. Emma looked back at her and saw the desperate look in her eyes. She nodded, pushing her hands into her pockets.
'Okay,' she said softly. 'Okay. Sorry.'
The sound of thumping seemed louder all of a sudden. Emma swallowed against it, certain that it was only the blood rushing through her ears.
'Okay,' Regina repeated. 'Right then. I suppose… here it is.'
But she didn't say any more. Instead she turned to her right and reached out a hand for one of the boxes. A faint clicking sound told her that it had been released from the wall, and slowly she drew the small wooden chest away from its brothers.
Emma took a step back. 'What…?'
Regina was holding the box carefully between both of her hands, looking down at it with expressionless eyes. She turned it slightly, and Emma caught sight of what looked like a flash of light from beneath its lid.
And then Regina held it out. Emma stared down at it.
'…what?' she asked.
'Take it.'
'Um,' Emma said, edging backwards slightly. 'Why?'
Regina swallowed. 'Because I need you to look inside it.'
'Can't you show me?'
'No. You have to look yourself.'
'Why do I—?'
'Emma,' Regina suddenly snapped, sounding infinitely more terrified than she did angry. 'Please. Just… just do as I ask. Just this once. I'm begging you.'
Emma considered her for a moment. Regina's hands were trembling and her bottom lip was wobbling. She looked so frightened, and that fact only made Emma's head hurt all the worse.
'You don't beg,' she said quietly.
'Not unless I need to,' Regina said, extending her arms until the box was nearly pressed against Emma's stomach. 'And right now: I need to.'
Emma stared down at the wooden chest and bit down on her lip, waiting for the thumping sound in her ears to subside. It didn't. It only got louder and for some reason she was starting to become certain that it was coming from somewhere else in the room.
When she finally sighed and reached out for the box, snatching it from between Regina's hands, she felt it throbbing beneath her fingers. She gasped, feeling it slip from her grasp, before she caught it again at the last second.
'Regina,' she choked out, holding it back out again like it physically repulsed her. 'Take it back.'
'No. I can't.'
'I don't like it,' Emma stammered, shaking her head. 'Please – this is freaking me out. Look, we'll go back outside and sit down and you can tell me whatever you like, okay? You can tell me all about Snow White and the seven midgets for as long as you like, and I promise I'll listen. I promise. Just… please don't make me stay down here.'
Regina's heart broke. She just looked at Emma for a moment; at her shaking hands that were desperately trying to give her box back and the silvery scar that she could somehow still see, even in the near-blackness of the tiny stone vault.
Then she sadly shook her head.
'Open the box,' she said quietly. 'And then we can go.'
'Regina—'
'Please, Emma,' Regina said, reaching out to touch her face for a split second. Emma seemed to fall into her hand, letting her eyes flutter close. But then Regina's fingers retracted and her skin went cold again. The thumping sound that was unmistakably coming from the box felt like it was suffocating her.
'If opening this is going to make me hate you,' Emma said slowly, the corners of her mouth pointing fiercely downwards. 'Is it… is it worth it?'
'Probably not,' Regina said, swallowing. 'But you need to do it anyway.'
Emma shook her head again, but she finally let her eyes settle firmly on the object in her hands. It was vibrating in time to her own frantic pulse. The faint light that crept out from under the lid was a disconcerting shade of pink.
She pressed the pad of her thumb underneath the lip of the wooden lid and paused.
'You're sure you want me to do this?' she asked, her eyes meeting Regina's with alarming despondency.
Regina kept blinking back her stubborn, stupid tears.
'I'm sure,' she said gently. 'I'm… I'm sure.'
She watched as Emma took a breath. She gritted her teeth, straightened her shoulders underneath her beaten leather armour, and she pushed the lid open.
There was a pause that felt like a knife beneath Regina's ribs. Then the box clattered to the ground and the glowing, thumping heart rolled out onto the dank floor.
Emma staggered backwards until she hit the wall, her eyes wide and no longer green.
'What the fuck?!'
She didn't sound angry. She sounded absolutely terrified.
'Emma. Let me explain before—'
'Regina, what the fuck?' Emma repeated, somehow even louder. 'Are you fucking kidding me? You think that you can actually explain this?!'
'I can try,' Regina said, already sounding desperate. She took a step forwards and watched as Emma recoiled against the wall. 'Listen to me, Emma, please. Let me try.'
'Do not come near me,' Emma spat, her eyes already looking towards the stairs that would lead her out of there. 'Don't touch me. Ever.'
Regina stopped moving at once. Her hand was outstretched, trying to reach out towards her, but it now slowly curled back into a fist and fell down to her side.
Blinking back tears, she fell into a crouch and picked the glowing object up off of the floor. They both knew that she was only trying to hide her face.
She couldn't remember who it belonged to, but she placed the heart tenderly back in its box all the same.
Emma watched her the whole time, rocking back with disbelief.
'What are you doing with them?' she choked out. Regina could hear the tears that were clinging to the back of her throat, no matter how hard she was fighting against them.
She took a deep breath, holding the box to her stomach.
'I was the Evil Queen, Emma,' she said quietly. 'I was a horrible, vicious person, and I did terrible things and I hurt a lot of people. I told you – it was true. It was all true.'
'The Evil Queen is a cartoon, Regina!' Emma spat. 'And that – that – is a real heart. A very real very fucking not-cartoon heart that you are keeping in a box.'
Regina narrowed her eyes for a moment. Then she sighed, flipping the lid back open, and took the throbbing heart in her hand.
She knew that Emma was shuddering without having to look at her.
'Look at it, Emma,' she said calmly, holding it out. 'It's beating. It's beating and it's glowing and it's not just a heart. It's enchanted. It's magic.'
Emma was still cowering against the wall, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. She looked at the heart like she wanted to take it and throw it across the room – but there was also something new in her eyes. It was doubt, and it was poisonous to her.
She looked at the way that Regina was stood before her and immediately shut her eyes: she was holding a heart like normal people held a cell phone, and it didn't make any sense to her.
'You couldn't have killed people,' she said quietly, the first tear finally dribbling down her cheek. 'You wouldn't.'
Regina bit at the inside of her cheek and replaced the heart in the box.
'I did,' she said bitterly, sliding the chest back into the wall. 'Many people, Emma. In many different worlds and without a second thought.'
'But you—'
'No,' Regina interrupted, taking another step towards her. Emma's eyes were still closed, but she still saw her flinching. 'Emma. I told you. I'm not… I'm not who you think I am.'
'Then who are you?' Emma asked, her green eyes snapping back open.
Regina groaned. 'I'm wicked.'
Emma choked back a sob, letting her head thud back against the wall. She looked up at the mouldy ceiling, at the tangled spiders' webs that were strung between the stone archways, and shook her head. Her arms uncrossed and she lifted up both of her hands, covering her face with them as she waited for the repetitive thudding sound to slowly ebb away.
'It doesn't make any sense.'
'I know,' Regina said. Her voice cracked. 'I'm sorry, Emma. I'm so sorry. It's crazy and I don't expect you to get it – I don't expect you to believe it or to believe me or to trust me ever again. But you had to know, and you had to know who you had fallen in love with. I couldn't… It wasn't fair to—'
'Wait,' Emma suddenly interrupted. She pulled her hands away from her face and Regina saw that her cheeks, still slick with tears, were pale. 'Wait.'
Regina frowned. '…what?'
Taking a deep breath, Emma pushed herself off of the wall. She took a slow step towards Regina and shook her head. She was already begging with her to be wrong.
'When you said that you killed people, you said "in many different worlds".'
Regina's mouth went dry. 'Um. Yes, I… I did.'
She could see Emma's jaw quivering.
'So… what about in this world?' she asked in a voice that was harsh and angry and utterly devastated.
Regina went silent. Her face had gone white.
'Regina,' Emma repeated, her voice growing fainter. Tears were trickling down from clumped eyelashes and she angrily tried to scrub them away, her nails leaving red lines across her cheeks. 'Regina. What about in this world?'
She watched Regina's mouth as it flapped open, then shut again. 'I…'
Emma choked back a sob. Oh, God.
'That night,' Emma whispered, her face collapsing. 'That night when I was last here… the night that Graham died… This is where we left you, Regina. You were here when he died. Weren't you?'
Regina had frozen, her fists hanging loosely by her sides.
'Emma…'
'Weren't you?!'
They were hearts. His heart, his heart, his heart.
'Emma, please…' Regina's eyes were shining with desperate tears and she tried to take a step forwards. She tried to reach out. But Emma hissed with disgust and fell back against the wall once more, her head shaking.
'No,' Emma said through gritted teeth. 'No. You wouldn't do that. I know you – you wouldn't.'
'Emma,' Regina pleaded, inching forwards. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I was… I was hurt and I was angry and he—'
Her words were cut off by the sound of Emma's palm slapping against the side of her face. Regina staggered to one side, pressing a fist against her cheek, feeling the skin stinging beneath her fingers like it was alight. She gasped, her eyes squeezing shut, and begged herself not to cry. She did not have the right to cry.
'You were angry?!' Emma hissed from somewhere near her, her voice icy and utterly ravaged with hatred. 'You were angry that he dumped you and so you decided to kill him?!'
'It wasn't like that,' Regina gasped, leaning against the nearest wall. The pain was somehow getting worse. 'Emma, please, just try and hear me out—'
'How dare you?!' Emma screeched, hurtling towards her and pulling her hand away from her burning face. Her fingers gripped onto Regina's wrist with enough strength to snap it. 'Hear you out? Are you kidding me?! You drop a bombshell like this on me and suddenly I'm the one who's being unfair by not wanting to accept it?'
'No – no, that's not what I meant,' she stammered. She was losing control and she didn't know how to take it back again. 'Emma, what happened with Graham and I, it was… it was complicated, and I—'
'So what am I, then?' Emma snapped. She was in Regina's face, forcing her back against the wall with her wrist trapped between them. 'Am I "complicated"? If things didn't go well between us would you have just run me over with your car?'
Regina suddenly pushed her away with more strength than she realised that she still had left.
'No,' she said vehemently. 'You think that you're the same as him? Just some cheap one night stand? Emma, if you left me, I would… I would die. I wouldn't be able to hurt you because I would die before I ever hurt you.'
Emma stared at her for a moment, her expression uncertain.
And then she spoke quietly.
'So what is this?' she asked, gesturing at the vault that surrounded her. 'Is this not hurting me?'
Regina bit her lip. 'This is me being honest with you.'
'And that makes it okay?'
'No,' Regina said simply. 'Not even close. I'm not hiding what I did, Emma – not anymore. I'm a murderer. I'm evil and wicked and not worth trusting. But you did trust me, for all the wrong reasons. I'm just… trying to give you a real one.'
Emma turned away from her, scraping her nails back through her hair.
She ended up stood directly in front of the wall of hearts, the only light in the room pouring down on her. She sighed.
'I can't…' she said slowly, her hands still fisted in her hair. '…I can't do this, Regina. This is crazy. You… you must be lying to me. You have to be.'
'You know that I wish I was.'
'Then tell me you are,' Emma said, snapping her head around to look at her again. 'Just tell me. I'll believe it. I promise you, I'll believe it. I'll believe every word you ever say for the rest of our lives if you just tell me this is a joke.'
For the rest of our lives. Something sharp scratched at the back of Regina's throat. She shook her head helplessly.
'But…' Emma said, the tears sliding back down her cold cheeks again. 'But you're Regina. You're my Regina. You can't suddenly be… this…'
'I'm still me,' Regina said, taking a tentative step forwards. 'Emma. It's still me. I was that person and I was the Evil Queen but now I'm not. I promise you. Now I'm just—'
'You're Moe,' Emma interrupted.
Regina immediately took a step back. There was a roaring sound in her ears that wasn't coming from inside a box.
'…what?' she choked out.
Emma looked at her sadly.
'You're him, Regina.'
'I'm not! How can you even say—'
'Except you're worse,' Emma said, swiping at the tear that was dribbling down her cheek. Her voice was surprisingly quiet. 'These hearts… Jesus, Regina. He pointed a gun to my head and broke half of my ribs, but you fucking carved into people. What did you use to get these; a meat cleaver? Or was that too gruesome for you? Did you prefer something a bit cleaner?'
Regina could feel the tears bubbling up in her throat but she forced them back as far as they would go.
'No,' she said slowly. 'I never used… anything like that. It was my hands. I used my hands.'
Emma staggered backwards. 'What?!'
'It's magic, Emma,' Regina mumbled, feeling her dirtied fingers twitching by her sides. 'You just sort of reach in and… take it.'
'And then what?!' Emma spat out. 'They're just dead? And that's it?'
'No,' Regina said desperately. 'Not if you don't want them to be.'
'What?!'
'You can take a heart and… and crush it,' Regina said, her eyes on the floor. 'Or you can control it.'
There was a pause. And then Emma said softly, 'Oh my god. You are a monster.'
Regina flinched. 'Emma…'
'So you could take my heart?' Emma interrupted, taking a step forwards. Her anger was coming off of her in waves of heat and Regina could feel them licking at her bare skin. 'Right now? If you wanted to?'
'Well,' Regina mumbled. 'If there was magic here… yes.'
'And is that the only thing that's stopping you?' Emma asked. 'That there's no… magic?'
'What? Emma, no – I wouldn't do that. I told you, I'm not—'
'Except you are,' Emma said flatly, taking a step back again. Her face was wet with the tears that she had long since stopped trying to wipe away. 'People don't change, Regina. They think they do, but really they just get better at lying.'
'Emma—'
'And I need to go now.'
'No,' Regina said, more firmly than she'd intended. Emma took a step forwards and immediately two hands settled on her arms, holding her there. 'No. Emma. Please, I need to explain—'
'You've explained, Regina!' Emma spat out, trying to wrench herself free. She was strong, but Regina's panic made her even stronger. 'Let go of me – I need to get out of here. I need to be away from you.'
'No! Emma, I won't let you go like this.'
'Regina, I am serious – get the hell off of me.'
'Please, Emma. Please. I just—'
'Get off of me!' The fear in Emma's voice sounded like nails being dragged down the stone walls as she suddenly tried to shove Regina backwards, tugging at the fingers that were wrapped around her arms. Regina refused to let go and so dragged Emma back with her, the pair of them colliding into the wall with the dull thud of ribs on stone.
Even when Emma wriggled against her grip, her nails scraping on whatever part of her body she could reach, Regina couldn't let go. She held onto Emma like she was a life raft in a storm and she let her hurl her rage against her.
Emma's body was brittle as she clawed at her, tears streaming down her petrified face. Regina held her up, taking the blows, not letting herself flinch even once. Even as Emma's cries got weaker and her hands stopped hurting her quite so badly, she didn't stop holding her.
She could feel her shaking. She could feel her trying to pull away, and it took every ounce of strength that she possessed when she finally decided to let her go.
Emma stumbled across the vault and tore up the stairs without looking back.
The moment that she was gone Regina leaned back against the wall, pressing her hands to her scratched face. Alone in the dark, with the sounds of a hundred hearts beating miserably around her, she slid to the floor and let herself cry until her lungs were raw.
A/N: I was about to wish all of my American readers a happy Thanksgiving, but to be quite honest I'm not sure that anyone's going to want to hear any sort of good tidings from me at this current moment... So I'll just crawl back into my hole instead. Kisses (and apologies)!