Thank you all again for staying with me, and supporting me while I write this. It's been a wild ride, and it really was so difficult for me to get this chapter out. I know you'll enjoy it, so have fun!

The physical therapist scheduled to see the mayor arrived shortly after 1pm. He was a kindly-looking man in his mid-fifties and well-dressed. A wheelchair was in front of him while he smiled at the brunette. He helped her out of the bed and down onto the chair, saying very little, which was good, because Regina definitely wasn't in the mood for chatting. She wanted to get the tests over with so she could go home.

"So, that's an unusual arrangement you've got back there," he said lightly while pushing her down the hall.

"Yes, well, my son insisted that the sheriff and I room together."

"Children are interesting like that. Did he say why?"

"No," Regina lied.

"Kids can be...enigmatic like that."

"I love my son, and I would do anything and everything in the world for him." A hot wave of guilt washed over her. "If that means sharing a room with that...woman, then I will. And I have, clearly."

"You must take excellent care of him. I bet he's visited you a lot while you've been here." His words were like lemon juice on a paper cut.

"Yes, he's been...very affectionate," she lied again.

"It must be nice to have that kind of love in your life. Anyway, here we are! Let's get you walking, Ms Mills."

They entered a small, brightly-lit room. There was a table along the eastern wall, accompanied by several chairs. A long railing ran along the wall straight ahead of her, and two sets of railings parallel to each other ran down the middle of the room, and the western wall was made entirely of mirrors.

The therapist, who introduced himself as Rodger, positioned the brunette's chair in front of the parallel rails, facing the wall of mirrors so that she could watch herself walk. He helped her out of the wheelchair, a small, encouraging smile playing across his lips. He could tell that she was reluctant to take the hands he offered, but he reassured the woman that he was only going to guide her to the railings.

The rest went fairly smoothly from there. Regina found that there was minimal pain her feet, nothing she couldn't manage. Her legs were kind of shaky, but she really only needed the railings for two laps before she was holding her hands above them and walking with no support.

They were together for less than an hour before Roger was confident that Regina was indeed healed and strong enough to be mobile unaided. He walked her back to the little room, chatting lightly now that the mayor was in a much better mood. She was holding herself high, looking just about as regal as she usually did on any given day.

She saw the curtains drawn around Emma's bed, and her heart jumped into her throat, fearing something bad. She quelled that thought immediately, remembering that the sheriff needed to be bathed by her caretakers. She had been present for these bathings before, and felt no desire intrude upon any more of them.

The mayor snuck into the room, grabbed her regular clothes and walked to the bathroom. It was time to get rid of the infernal hospital gowns that she had been made to wear for the past four days. She shed the shapeless garment and slipped into her neatly-pressed slacks and cashmere blouse, and breathed a contented sigh of relief.

Regina walked over to the mirror, intending to try and tame her hair, but stopped when she looked closely at her reflection. She knew that she had carved up her face during the incident that landed her in the hospital, but she had been avoiding mirrors for that exact reason.

The entire reflective wall in the physical therapy room she was in had presented a bit of a problem, but her reflection was dwarfed by distance, and she did everything she could not to look at her face.

But here, she was standing right in front of the glass. She could not avoid it any further. When Regina's brown eyes lifted to look at the woman staring back, her mouth fell open in complete horror. She knew that the scratches weren't pretty; she had rubbed the scabs many times while wiping the sleep from her eyes, but it looked significantly worse than she originally imagined.

Before her was a face with eight lengthy, jagged, red lines dragging down the features of her hard face. Some of the scabs were peeling, and now Regina understood why Henry was having a hard time looking at her. She looked like she got on the wrong side of Red during Wolf's Time.

Strange, she thought, that the gashes on her feet should heal as quickly as they did, but the scrapes across her face made no sign of following suit. She shifted, averting her eyes, repulsed by her own appearance. She needed to leave. Immediately. Regina wanted to get back to the privacy of her mansion where she could heal in peace.

She stormed out of the bathroom, internally wincing every time one of her feet slammed into the hard ground. She gathered up her belongings with a furious haste. Regina was checking out, and no one was going to stop her. She was about to leave the tiny room, when she stopped.

The mayor turned around to look at the blonde. Something stirred in her chest, and felt suddenly as though she was abandoning the sheriff, just like everyone else did in Emma's life. That thought disturbed Regina, and her chest constricted even tighter. This was dangerous, her head was aching and she just needed to get home. Whatever words may have been on her lips died in her newfound rush to leave the hospital.

The mayor found herself back in her mansion, stiff drink in hand and Ibuprofen on board. The emptiness of her home since Henry left usually bothered her, but in that moment, the quiet was a soothing balm. No beeping instruments, no nurses coming in to check on her or Emma at all hours of the day, no more substandard hospital food. Just peace and comfort.

Regina sank down into her favorite armchair, coffee with a healthy dose of Bailey's added beside her, and Tamora Pierce's Wild Magic in her hand. She knew it was a kid's book, but reading stories about what the people of this world imagined magic to be like was always one of her guilty pleasures.

Though her mind was still racing, and her headache never fully disappeared, the brunette was starting to feel much more relaxed than she had been for the past few days. Yes, space from the troublesome blonde and everyone else was definitely what she needed, along with a few creature comforts.

She was just starting to think about taking a hot shower when the sound of the lock on her front door clicking open met her sensitive ears. She froze, hearing the door swinging open, waiting to hear any other sounds the intruder might make.

"Mom?" She heard the door swing shut. "Mom, are you home?"

It was Henry! "Yes, dear! I'm coming!" She rushed into the foyer, swooping down to give her son a tight hug. He only half-heartedly returned the embrace.

"You're...You're walking!"

"Yes. Dr Whale said that I healed remarkably fast." It wasn't lost on Regina how Henry still had trouble looking at her marred face.

"You left?"

"Of course, dear. There was no sense in me staying there when it was no longer necessary."

"But I thought..."

"What were you thinking?" She already knew what he was musing about. It seemed to be the only thing Henry wanted to discuss with her.

"I just thought that if you were with Emma long enough, you would see..."

"Henry, I've tried to tell you that this isn't some fantasy. Kissing Emma will not wake her up, and-"

"How would you know if you haven't even tried! You promised, Mom! If you break this promise, I'm never going to talk to you again!" He glared fiercely at her with a steady determination that would have made the Evil Queen proud, were it not directed at her. Regina's temper flared. She had just started to relax, feel a little more normal, and the presence of her son magnified that, until now.

"You didn't even talk to me before!" she spat without thinking. She clapped her hands to her mouth at the shocked look on his face. "Henry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean that!" But he was gone, and all she saw was the door to 108 Mifflin slamming shut.

She fell to her knees where she stood, hands still masking her mouth, hot tears splashing down her face. When had things spun so out of control for her? The sting of her tears in some of the scabs seemed to shake her from her moment of weakness, but instead of recomposing herself like she normally did, Regina flew into a full-blown tantrum. She started screaming, throwing anything she could get her hands on, slamming her fists into as many solid objects near her that she could reach until her knuckles bled, leaving ugly, crimson smears on her perfect home.

Regina was in the bathroom, running icy water over her maimed hands. It never failed to amaze the woman how the smallest drop of blood spread so far in a large amount of water. She watched as the sanguine liquid swirled around the drain before disappearing.

Her head was pounding harder than a blacksmith at the anvil, and the thought of applying peroxide to her new wounds was less than appealing. There was little point in keeping her hands under the cold stream any longer; it was only preventing the splits from clotting.

She turned off the faucet and watched as fresh blood swiftly wicked through the rivulets of water that still clung to her skin. She pulled a tissue from a box on the back of the toilet and wiped it all away, leaving the blood to simply well over the wounds.

Regina had already pulled out gauze pads, peroxide, Neosporin and bandages ahead of time. She poured some of the peroxide onto a fresh gauze pad and dabbed lightly at the knuckles on her left hand. She hissed through her teeth, the liquid burning like fire. Regina found herself pressing harder and over a slightly larger area; the pain felt real and tangible. It was grounding. It was loud enough for her to push back all of the roiling thoughts clashing around in her head.

She pressed a new pad against her right hand, watching little spots of blood blossom through it, hissing once more in pain; however, this hiss seemed to be more of pleasure than hurt. She was enjoying the sensations sprinting from her hands to her brain and then back again. It was a rush.

Once she finished treating and wrapping up her knuckles, exhaustion stole over her. She wasn't expecting as much emotional and physical trauma as she had experienced, and now her frayed nerves and over-worked body were paying the price. She dragged herself from the bathroom and collapsed onto her bed, not even bothering to undress.

The following day was quiet in a way that the mayor was no longer enjoying. Her headache grew increasingly persistent, the only aspect of the silence she was grateful for. Normally, she would have put on some soft jazz to fill the emptiness, but any noise felt like the beating of a war drum in her head.

But her hands were aching not only from splitting all of her knuckles open, but from all of the bruising that blossomed around them. The insistent, stabbing aches made cleaning up the mess from her fit even more unpleasant than it already was. She came down the stairs that morning to see shattered china, scattered books, coats torn from the closet and all manner of various objects strewn about her house. Peppered across it were the brown spots of dried blood and ugly smears on walls and cabinets.

The many long hours she spent tidying, sweeping, scrubbing and stowing Regina could not stop thinking about Henry and what she said to him. It had been cruel and spiteful, but the brunette could not find it within herself to admit that what she said was untrue, because it wasn't.

Henry had not talked to her after his birthmother fell under the Sleeping Curse. He had avoided her, moved in with her enemy, and ignored all of her calls and every attempt at contact. He only started making nice with Regina once he found out that she might be the one to wake Emma. He didn't love her. She was simply a means to an end.

But then again... He had spoken of actually having a family with his mothers if Regina woke the Savior. However, he might have said that to whoever proved to be the blonde's True Love. His statement wasn't unique to her. She sighed heavily as she emptied the last of the evidence of her fit into the trash.

The mayor looked around her. Everything was spotless once more, but she noticed how much more bare everything felt. There were holes where things used to stand, photos in frames missing from shelves and all other knick-knacks that decorated her home.

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Mary Margaret's number, hoping she could talk to Henry and apologize. The number of unanswered rings piled up until she heard the irritating woman's sickly-sweet voice on her voice mail. Regina had a long rant lined up, but thought once again about her son. Instead, she hit the End button and pocketed the device.

It was late in the evening, around a quarter after 11, and the mayor was lounging on a bench out on her back patio. She was nursing a glass of very dry red wine, enjoying the cold, salty Maine air and admiring her apple tree from afar.

For the first time since those fleeting hours earlier that morning Regina Mills felt a little more at ease. Yes, she was still kicking herself for what she said to Henry, and her body never failed to tell her that it was in disrepair, but it was quiet, the crickets were singing and the wine was pulling the tension from her body. She felt a sudden warming of the air to her left.

"Nice evening, isn't it?" a voice she had not heard for decades, but knew like no other sounded next to her. Regina looked to her left, and Daniel was sitting beside her, smiling softly. She was so startled that a yelp escaped her lips and she fell off the bench.

"Daniel?"

"What has happened to you, my love? Where have you gone?"

"Are you...? Are you real?" Regina remained sprawled across the dew-kissed grass, heart hammering, and fear pounding through her.

"For you, my Regina, I will always be real."

"But you're dead." Tears were running down her face.

"Oh... I suppose I am." He looked down at his chest where a gaping hole where is heart should be was spilling blood down his jerkin. "Where did you go?"

"I never left, I swear! I never stopped loving you!"

"And I never stopped loving you, Regina, but you're..." Tears were running down his own face now. "You're not her. You fell into despair, and by doing so, lost your way. Come back to me." He held out his hand, smiling in the way he knew would disarm her completely. Regina lunged from the ground, thrusting her hand to meet his, but her fingers slid through empty air. She held her fingers in his mirage, willing them to touch, noticing the tingly, almost prickly sensation of settling in his space.

At that moment, Henry Senior, her beloved father came to stand next to Daniel, wearing a look of deep sorrow. His weary eyes lingered on the almost-joined hands of his daughter and her former lover. "Regina..." He sighed. He too had a bleeding hole in his chest from where she ripped his heart out.

"Daddy?"

"My daughter, I was your price for this Curse."

"Daddy, I am so sorry! I-" He held up a hand to stop her.

"I was your price. You told me this would make you happy. You said this," he gestured around himself. "Was your happy ending. But, I'm looking at you, and I have been watching you, and I don't see a happy ending."

"Daddy..." she wept, still keeping her hand where Daniel's was outstretched to. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, my Regina, but I think you know where your happy ending lies. You were always strong. Don't run from-" But he started choking on his words, grabbing at his throat that seemed incapable of producing any further sounds.

A heartless chuckle that Regina knew all too well came from behind her. She whipped around and saw Cora, in all of her royal raiment, standing beneath the apple tree. The smile she wore was heartless and turned her daughter's blood to ice.

"Oh, Regina. Just how many times do I have to tell you that love is weakness?" Cora began a slow advance, and the mayor scrambled to her feet in response, backing away, but staying in a somewhat protective stance in front of her father and lover.

"Just look at you. It's pathetic!" she spat. "I did everything to make you strong. I did everything to make you powerful. Yet, you always insist on throwing it away for something that will always betray you.

"Your stable boy is gone, you killed your huntsman, your son has abandoned you, and none of your subjects love you, Regina. You are alone."

Something snapped in the brunette at her mother's words about her son. "NO! I am NOT alone, Mother! I will never be alone!"

The same heartless laughter echoed around them. "Oh, you think your little sheriff will stand by you? She's a runner Regina, and she has made you weak. Just look at yourself; you're nothing. You were a Queen, thanks to me, and now you're just an empty, squirming worm."

Regina felt a scream tear its way from her throat, and she flew forward swinging at her mother. Her fist sailed through more empty air, and the fallen Queen stumbled through the illusion of her mother. More bone-chilling laugher followed her.

"See? You're weak, Regina!"

The brunette turned and ran as fast as she could, trying to get as far away from the cackling that was swirling all around her. Daniel was always in front of her, holding out his hand, wearing the sad smile that broke her heart a thousand times over. But the closer she tried to advance, the farther from her drifted.

Her father hovered near her, unable to talk, but never taking his woeful eyes from his daughter. She swung out at him a few times while chasing her beloved, hating the way Henry's eyes made her feel like a little girl again.

Cora seemed to be on all sides, jeering at her, scolding her, and never ceasing in her brutal, mirthless cackling. Regina was flailing her arms, yelling at all of the apparitions of her mother, calling out for her Daniel, and spewing apologies to her mute father. Her eyes were popping, and spittle was flying from her mouth.

There was no doubt that some of the inhabitants of Storybrooke got an eyeful of their always-stoic mayor in a full-swing, manic tantrum. It was a terrifying sight, seeing the brunette thrashing around, shrieking names and curses, looking like some wretched creature escaped from its cage. Because of that alone, none dared approach her. All just stopped and stared, feeling slightly queasy from the show being put on.

Regina followed her stable boy, completely unaware of where he was leading her. Her arms and shoulders were getting weak from her fruitless flailing, and her voice was rough and hoarse from screams and pleadings that fell on deaf ears. She eventually gave up on the punches, knowing that they were getting her nowhere. Instead, Regina covered her ears, yelling and moaning because of all the voices in her head.

She stumbled forward toward Daniel, who still held his hand out, waiting for her to take it. She swiped out for it occasionally, hoping to connect with the man who was so savagely wrenched from her.

She collided solidly with two heavy glass doors, briefly stunned from the contact. She pushed past them, vaguely aware of where she was being led, but none of that mattered. Regina needed to get to Daniel. He would fix her; mend all of the cracks in her heart.

She clambered down the tiled hallways, occasionally slamming against a wall, her screaming diminished into croaky moans and whimpers. Her stable boy halted, lowering his hand, smiling knowingly at her.

"Daniel...?"

"It's time, Regina." His voice was clear and strong, smothering all of the jeering and cackling coming from the dozens of Cora's surrounding her.

"For what?"

"Let me show you."

He turned and strode through the glass wall to a room that she knew all too well, but wasn't concerned with at the moment. She finally found the strength to move her feet, and entered the tiny space with him. He sat down on a bed, sitting on his side and gesturing her to join him.

A smile split across Regina's blemished, bloodless face. She started to move to him when all of the Cora's materialized into one right in front of her, smiling wickedly, halting the fallen Queen in her tracks. They stood there, facing the other for several long moments, silence falling thickly around them.

And then her mother was everywhere again, but the other mirages were more translucent than the one in front of her, and that was the one that drew all of the brunette's focus. Cora turned, facing away from her daughter, landing her gaze on the still-beseeching man. Her arm rose into the air, her fingers arching severely, and it dawned on Regina what her mother was going to do in front of her again.

"NO!" The brunette flew forward, through her mother and flung herself on top of Daniel to shield him from Cora's wrath. In one cold burst of clarity, every apparition surrounding her vanished, and the only sounds were Regina's panting and the quickening heartbeat of the Savior.

She regarded the woman below her with wide eyes. Daniel led her here? To show her Emma? He said it was time. She stayed positioned over the sleeping sheriff, frozen in place. Something brought her back. The blonde brought her back. Emma Swan pulled Regina from her madness, just like Rumple had said. Just like Henry knew she would.

Emma was her anchor.

Without thinking, Regina cupped the blonde's face in her hands, leaned down and crushed her lips to the other woman's. The heat in the Savior's lips flashed through the Queen's entire being, and all of the precarious, teetering piles of thoughts and emotions in her head fell down into neat stacks.

She heard a sharp inhale beneath her. Regina snapped her eyes open, and saw emerald ones staring back. Tears welled up at the simple presence of a gaze she didn't realize she had missed so much, and there was nothing she could do to fight back the smile the painted her lips.

"Regina?" Emma croaked. She wasn't smiling. She was just frowning with confusion at the position she found herself in. "What's happening? Where am I?"

The brunette scrambled off of the bed, face stricken with horror. She broke the Sleeping Curse. Henry was right. Rumplestiltskin was right. Regina felt like she might throw up. She clamped her hand over her mouth, afraid to say anything, tears rushing down her face once more. She turned and fled, hearing the echoes of the woman's voice chasing her down the hall.

"Regina?"

"REGINA...!"

Don't forget to find me on Tumblr at Writers-Dilemma. tumblr. com