Thank you to everyone for reading! The responses I got on the last chapter were AMAZING! I'm sorry for the wait on this update, but it was particularly difficult for me to get this chapter out of my head and onto the page. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Please comment and let me know what you think; reviews keep me motivated! Just a reminder to all of you lovely readers, the 200th reviewer gets to request a one-shot of their choice from me!

Regina was sprawled on the floor, clutching at her bruised flesh, coughing through her struggle to breathe. David rushed over to her, and the anxiety bleeding off of him just made the wounded brunette want to punch him solidly in the face.

"Regina! Are you okay? Can you stand? One of the EMTs will be here soon. Oh my God, you're bleeding!" Words continued to dribble out of his mouth, and he kept moving his hands to the mayor before pulling them back, unsure as to whether or not he should actually touch her.

"Well spotted, Sherlock," she rasped at him, little flecks of blood flew from her mouth with the force of her words.

"Here, let me help you." He leaned in to try and pull her upright, but he was met with a surprisingly forceful shove.

"Don't you dare try to lay a hand on me, Sheriff."

"Regina, you can't stay on the floor..."

"That's Mayor Mills, you thick-skulled swine! If you try to come near me again, I swear to every deity in existence that I will end you SO FUCKING FAST!" she shrieked, slumping closer to the floor from the effort she tried to muster from her weakened body.

David was struck silent by her outburst, pulling away from her, his mouth agape. He rapidly realized that he wasn't needed, and instead, set about clearing away the gathering crowd of rubber-neckers to make way for the paramedics.

Regina refused to allow herself the indignation of being lifted onto a gurney, and she forcefully insisted that she remain on the floor during her examination. She let them check her for signs of concussion, treat her head wound and look at her throat, but once they started to strongly recommend taking her to the hospital, the brunette felt unbidden panic swell in her aching chest.

"No. I don't want to see a doctor! I don't want to go to the hospital, and I won't need any more treatment!"

"Madame Mayor, we insist. You need-"

"I won't go back there! What I really need is for you frivolous idiots to leave me alone! I am done! Leave now, or I will see to it that each and every one of you are fired for your incompetence."

All of them packed up their supplies and scattered like roaches in the sunlight, knowing full well that Regina's wrath was in no way quelled by any physical injuries she may have sustained. Once they cleared off, she shakily got to her feet, moving as steadily as she could manage to her desk chair. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the screaming aches peppering her face and torso. All she wanted to do was be alone with her pain, but it would seem that fate had a cruel sense of humor.

A delicate cough reached her ears, and she looked up to see an extremely nervous Mary Margaret. Regina was mildly grateful that the woman had enough common sense to avoid looking at her directly, instead focusing her twitchy gaze on a spot somewhere in front of her crooked desk. At the same time, she couldn't help but wish the other woman would have the balls to look at the tattered mayor before her, and still cower in fear.

"Ms Blanchard," she croaked, her voice lacking its usual bite. "I hardly find this to be an appropriate time for whatever inane platitudes you think necessary at this moment. I can assure you, they're not."

"My apologies, Mayor Mills, but I'm here to ask if you want me to bring Henry to see you?"

Regina felt as though a cinderblock had just slid into her stomach. What would Henry say? She could just imagine the look of disgust on his face when he looks upon her battered face. No, she needed time to put herself together. She needed time to be strong for him.

"No. He needs to stay in school."

"Would... Would you like me to tell him what happened? Or would you prefer to do that yourself?"

"Let me handle it." Her voice came out as nothing more than a weary whisper.

"Listen, Regina... I just want you to know that I was the one who called David."

The mayor's brown eyes flicked up to the teacher's, unable to see where that statement was going. "How did you know?"

Mary Margaret wrung her hands, taking a deep breath before letting the words jumble out of her mouth. "Because I was there when she got her memory back."

"I see..."

"She fell and hit her head in the shower; she blacked out completely." The image of the unsightly bruise on the sheriff's forehead swam through Regina's mind. "I suppose the blow triggered something. She started yelling... Blaming me for not telling her about what happened that night. She..." Regina saw fresh tears in the other woman's eyes. "She slapped me."

It was then that the mayor saw the faint hint of a bruise beneath one unusually pink cheek, but she couldn't find it in herself to care in the slightest. "Pardon me if I don't feel an overabundance of sympathy for you," she stated flatly.

"Oh! Goodness no! I'm not trying to compare... Er... Either way, I saw Emma leaving the apartment with her gun. I was afraid she was going to try something, and I knew she was upset with you. I called David right after."

"Should I be thanking you? Or him? I suppose I should be grateful that that abhorrent woman didn't shoot me dead on sight? I should be grateful she wanted to make me suffer first? That she liked to toy with her prey? That way your boyfriend would have enough time to what? 'Rescue' me?"

Mary Margaret's mouth hung open in abject horror. "I never meant it like-"

"I should be arranging a ceremony to give that brainless oaf a commendation for his bravery and swift response time! After all, he did nothing to stop...her from nearly murdering me!"

"Regina, please!" Mary Margaret was whimpering helplessly.

"In fact, that pathetic moron let himself get verbally trampled by her! I only wish that she had let go of me just so I could watch her pummel the stupid out of him!"

"R-Regina..." Tears were running down her face.

"Don't you even think for a fraction of a second about defending him! And don't think I owe you anything! I don't owe you thanks, nor am I in your debt in any way," she spat, suddenly aware of the fact that she was now on her feet. She could taste blood in her mouth again, and her stomach churned in response.

The petite brunette tried to splutter some pointless apology, but Regina grabbed the first thing on her desk that she could wrap her trembling fingers around - a plastic container of tangled paperclips - and hurled it at the other woman. It whizzed by the teacher's shoulder, and smashed in a brilliant explosion of plastic shards and metal clips on the wall next to the broken doors. Mary Margaret squeaked in fright, taking the not-so-subtle hint to leave, and scurried away without another word.

Regina's head spun, and she momentarily lost her balance, falling back into her chair again. All of her limbs felt like they had been injected with lead, while little white lights popped up in her vision. She allowed her head to slump forward, squeezing blazing-hot tears from behind her eyelids, seeing nothing but Emma's twisted, bloody, snarling face. The only sound in the empty office was the echoes of the blonde's breaking screams, and Regina only wept harder in her new solitude.

Regina sat at her vanity. She had been staring at her reflection for the last two hours. A half-drunk tumbler of cider stood off to her left - it was her third since arriving back home - accompanied by a blood-stained towel wrapped around an icepack. Her gaze drifted down to her throat, as it had done every few minutes, half expecting some sort of change; she didn't know what kind.

She brought her hand up to delicately trace the blotchy, reddish-purple imprints of where Emma's fingers held her fast. She swallowed another mouthful of cider, cringing slightly at the way it ached to do so. The brunette felt another sticky clot of blood seeping through her hair, and she knew that she probably needed stitches, but the very thought of going back to the hospital sent a shudder rippling through her body. It was too soon to be back there, to be back where she always found Emma, to be where she always seemed to find her pain lately.

Her bloodshot eyes tracked over her face again. The whole left side of her jaw was swollen and bruised. She could still taste the remnants of blood in her mouth from where the inside of her cheek had split open from the impact, and one of her molars felt a little loose. Her hair was pinned back and away from her temple on the same side. The steri-strips the EMTs had placed there earlier were no longer white, but an ugly shade of rust-red.

A sigh bubbled up in her chest, but when she inhaled, the tiniest groan of pain passed between her lips, bending slightly at the deep ache seated under her solar plexus. She knew the giant contusion on her stomach probably looked worse now than when she had seen it several hours prior when she changed into her comfort clothes - a pair of soft, satin pajamas.

Regina hissed slightly when she pressed the icepack to her inflamed cheek, the pain dulled slightly from the amount of alcohol she had consumed within the last hour. Her brain was filled with a heady buzz, her eyelids drooping a little more with the exhaustion from her long morning. She became vaguely aware of a voice echoing throughout the mansion but paid no mind to it. She didn't have the strength to face Henry. Not like this. She could never let him see her battered, drunk, and defeated.

She prepared for that by leaving her son a long note explaining how she didn't feel well, that his dinner was in the refrigerator and he was to do his homework before reading any comics or watching any TV. He was not to bother her unless there was an emergency. She could only pray that that explanation would be satisfactory to the overly-curious boy.

Her prayers never were answered. Why should they start now? She heard Henry thumping up the stairs roughly ten minutes after he came home. Regina squeezed her eyes shut, keeping the cold compress up against her face, hoping that he would just barrel into his room and leave her be. She remembered a short time ago when he wouldn't have been happier to find such a note waiting for him, granting him reprieve from his evil mother.

A soft knock sounded at her door. Regina did not respond. She gritted her teeth, willing her son to take her silence as evidence that she was asleep. He knocked again, this time softly calling out to her through the door. A lump rose painfully in the woman's ravaged throat, cursing herself for resisting him.

"Mom...? I know you're in there, and I know you're not sick or whatever. I don't think you're asleep either. If you're awake, will you please answer?"

Love is weakness, she was once told. How right that statement was. "I'm here," she rasped, the gravelly grate of her voice almost making Henry rethink his claim about his mother not being sick. Regina got up and moved over to the door, pressing her hand against the cool wood to steady her swaying body.

"You...you aren't sick, are you?" he mumbled through the crack between the door and its frame.

"No, sweetie. I'm not sick."

"What happened to you?"

The lump tracked its way back up her throat when she heard the genuine concern in his small voice. Regina could tell he was right on the other side of the barrier separating them, pressed up against it like she was. Oddly enough, it was the closest she's felt to her son in a very, very long time. "It's...complicated," she whispered. Honesty was having a hard time making friends with the brunette at that moment, afraid to admit the truth to him.

"Mom? Are you hurt?" Silence met his ears, and he knew after an uncomfortable, pregnant pause that he wasn't going to get an answer to his question. "I don't know what happened. I heard a couple of things, like, something happened at the town hall with you? And that Emma was there, but that's all I know."

Good, Regina thought. He doesn't need to suffer any more hurt than he already has right now.

"...I'm scared." That statement made her want to fling that door open and scoop him into a back-breaking hug, to soothe the fears from his mind, and fight away all of the monsters that dared darken his dreams. But right now, Regina was one of those monsters. If he was scared now, seeing his mother in her current condition would only magnify those fears.

"Are... Are you going to be okay?" His innocent concern sent a wave of warmth crashing through Regina, and she felt a smile pricking at her mouth.

She wanted to tell him that everything was indeed going to be okay, but that was a lie. Wasn't it? Regina was battered. Emma was declared missing, and a wanted criminal under charges of aggravated assault and attempted murder. The mayor wanted to take one of her brass letter openers and slit the blonde open from navel to nose for doing what she did to her, and in public no less. Could things possibly be any further from okay?

"Mom?" Henry broke her of her train of thought.

"It's complicated," she repeated. "But...but we'll find a way to fix it." The words tumbled out of her mouth, not wanting to leave him without hope. "Henry, honey?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't I call Ms Blanchard, and you can spent the night with her. I'm not fit to-"

"No."

"Henry..."

"No. I just got to come back home a couple days ago, and I know that things are messed up, like, a lot right now." Regina's heart swelled a little with pride at her son's display. "You're my mom. Emma is too, but I'm gonna stay with you." Hot tears pooled in the corners of the brunette's eyes. "We're family, and I'm not gonna abandon you, okay?"

Regina let out a garbled, "Yes," before choking back a sob, partly out of dignity, partly from the pain throbbing in her body.

"And, I like Ms Blanchard and all, but she...hovers." He said the word with a distaste that he could have gotten only from her, and her alone. She let out a small snort of laughter at his dislike for Mary Margaret's style of baby-sitting. "Besides, my bed is comfier. You're stuck with me, got it?"

"Good," she whispered shakily. "I love you, Henry." There was a beat of silence, and Regina couldn't tell if he heard her, or just didn't want to respond.

"Love you too, Mom," he whispered through the crack. "Let me know if you need me, 'kay?"

"Okay..."

"I'm leaving Stuffles, my lion, outside your door. He's always watched over me. He'll watch over you if you want him to." Regina was unable to respond; she was so consumed with fighting back ten thousand tidal waves of emotion that were all threatening to consume her completely.

"I'm gonna go do my homework. Hang in there, Mom. Holler if you need me." She heard him padding off down the hallway, and her ears picked up the creaking of his door swinging closed.

Regina waited a moment before opening her door a minute amount, peeking through the crack to see if he was watching. The hallway was empty, and she opened it further, stooping with a stifled grunt to pick up the toy Henry left for her. Closing the door once more, she collapsed into her bed, holding Stuffles tightly against her chest. The scent of her son that clung to the synthetic fur calmed her turbulent thoughts, and she rapidly slipped into much-needed sleep.

Regina found herself observing from afar a time when she was about twelve years old, and going strong in a stubborn streak. She had been doing poorly in some of her lessons, and her mother punished her by removing her riding privileges for an entire month. Frustrated, the young girl chose to deliberately slack in her etiquette lessons, the only ones that Cora diligently oversaw.

When her mother picked up on what she was doing, the enraged woman conjured a razor-sharp switch. She struck Regina relentlessly across her back until her dress was in tatters and her flesh bled profusely from a dozen different lacerations without so much as a word to her child. After Cora ceased her punishment, Regina turned, whimpering with tears streaking her young face, to look up at the woman she called Mother.

The heartless woman swiftly brought the back of her hand down across her daughter's cheek, speaking without a trace of guilt about how it was for the best. How could Regina ever expect to find a husband worthy of her breeding if she gave in to her selfish, pointless impulses?

Cora had the girl sent to her bedchambers along with nurses to treat her injuries. She was locked in her room for seven days following, and allowed no visitors beyond the nursemaids sent to cure her. When she came in to tell her daughter that her isolation was ended, she also healed the slow-closing slashes with her magic.

Cora tenderly stroked her fingers across her daughter's gaunt face. "I could never let my beautiful girl be uglied forever," she whispered. "I want you perfect, and unmarred for the man you will some day marry. No Queen will have scars from childhood punishment." She tucked her fingers under the girl's chin, forcing her to look up. "I'm doing this for you, Regina. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Mother," she muttered.

"Good girl," she said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. "Now, back to your lessons."

The brunette slammed upright, groaning loudly as pain blossomed in all parts of her upper body. Sweat had completely soaked through the pajamas that she had donned earlier, and she thought she felt the phantom biting of gashes, long gone from another life that didn't feel like hers. She only became vaguely aware of tears staining her smarting face when she brought her hands up to try and wipe away some of the perspiration. Her heart hammered away in her heaving chest, and her stomach writhed relentlessly.

Without a second thought, she groped around in the bed until she found the discarded Stuffles, and hugged him tightly, pressing a little kiss into his frazzled mane, much like a child does when frightened. If anything, Regina didn't feel scared. No. She felt terrified, shaken, and more than a little queasy. She buried her nose into his worn fur, inhaling deeply, desperately trying to believe that the dream was only a nightmare. Nothing more.

Again, I extend my deepest thanks to Jasmine for helping me figure out this chapter. You can find her lovely self at obligatory-regal-name. tumblr. com and you can find me at Writers-Dilemma. tumblr. com