I apologize for taking so long in my update. I'm suffering through my second plague, and I've been emotionally strung out. I hope this chapter satisfies all of you lovely readers! Thanks so much for all of the support and reviews! Keep them coming, they keep me writing! And congrats to GryphonLu for being my 200th reviewer! THANK YOU ALL! Gryphon, you get to request a one-shot of your choice! Send me a message here or on Tumblr. I look forward to your prompt!

The day after the attack

Emma was lying on the dusty floor of the cabin, doing some of her strengthening exercises after a very long and sleepless night. She would have spent the majority of it pacing, trying to come to terms with what she had actually done to Regina and the crime she very nearly committed. However, the persistent weakness in her legs prevented her from doing so. Thankfully, she kept a small first aid kit in her beetle. She spent the better part of an hour dabbing at the long scratches down her face with peroxide, jumping at every sound or imagined movement. She didn't bother wasting her limited supply of band-aids on the new wounds, so she gobbed on a healthy layer of Neosporin over each jagged abrasion.

Emma kept hearing the chopped, strangled cries that Regina attempted to voice to get her to stop. She could still feel the hot specks of blood and spittle sprinkling her face, and her stomach turned when she caught herself fantasizing about not letting the brunette go. The blonde knew that the unholy being of Regina Mills had tried to kill her, so why shouldn't she be paid in kind?

Sure, the mayor was still alive, but now she knew that Emma could get close. Close enough to hurt her. Emma knew this basically catapulted her over the line of their battle of wills, but Regina had made the first move. She always made the first move.

A fresh wave of fury bubbled in the pit of her stomach when she remembered the first sight to greet her eyes after waking up from the coma. It was Regina above her, and Emma couldn't fight the savage thoughts that tore through her mind. That fucking woman was probably just trying to off her for good, but of course, the cowardly bitch ran.

She tried to sleep on the moldy old bed under the musty, scratchy wool blanket that made her sneeze, but she couldn't get her mind to sit still for even one second. She tossed and turned, shivering constantly not only from her permanent chill, but Maine wasn't particularly balmy in the autumn. She did manage to light a fire in the tiny fireplace, but the drafts whisked away any heat that wasn't within three feet of the crackling logs.

Emma flexed her fingers constantly, and every single time she felt an ache of pain flash through them, the image of Regina's bleeding, purpling, and gagging face flashed in front of her eyes. A sour taste settled in her mouth, and hot rage continued to pulse through her limbs. She couldn't remember the last time she felt as though she was trapped in such a wicked tailspin.

She couldn't figure out which emotion she should settle on, and instead helplessly felt herself being yanked and tossed back and forth between burning hatred, disgust, self-loathing, unbridled horror, and a lot of nausea. Fortunately, regarding the latter, Emma had exactly zero food with her, so the persistent bouts of vomiting were downgraded to unpleasant dry heaves.

That was how her entire first night was spent in that little cabin, shivering, weak, and pain racing through every corner of her being. She tried pacing at one point, needing to work some of her aggression out of her bones, but when then blonde stood from the moldy cot she only made it a few steps before her weak legs gave out and she went smashing painfully onto the warped hardwood floor.

Emma screamed, and shrieked, and bellowed and shouted, not bothering to even form words. She just let any and all sound claw its way out of her throat until it was raw while she slammed her fists against the floor over and over and over again, until the outsides of her hands were thoroughly tenderized. The skin was hot and swollen, splitting open in a few places, but the sheriff didn't relent. She lay splayed, facedown on the planks, kicking and screaming like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

However, it wasn't long until her already-diminished reserves of energy were completely spent. She stilled her pulverized hands, resting her face on the ground, ignoring the sting racing through the scratches on her cheeks; she was simply too tired to give a damn, but not too tired to dissolve into a weeping lump where she lay.

The salt from her heavy tears did nothing to soothe the wounds they traced, but again, the pain she felt was of little concern to her right then. Thick, rattling sobs seized her limp form, and she choked on gobs of saliva and mucus so frequently that she threw up again.

It was truly a pitiful sight. The woman was lying, shivering in a puddle of tears, spit and bile, tendrils of her tangled hair sliding through it, blots of dried blood and cracked, fresh scabs streaked down her sallow, blotchy face. She drew breath in quick, uneven, shallow inhales, whimpering and moaning while stray tears leaked from the corners of her bloodshot eyes. Emma Swan was broken.

She was sitting on the rickety porch, gazing out across the rippling water of the small lake that stretched out in front of her. It was raining lightly, and the smell of damp leaves and sodden soil, combined with the fact that the surface of the lake never looked the same somehow comforted her.

She remembered that she had a protein bar in her glove box, but the bug was parked pretty far from the cabin, and Emma did not have her cane. As loudly as her stomach growled, her hunger wasn't worth dragging her body through gravelly mud to get it. There was no power or heat, but there was an ancient pump-well behind the cabin, so she had water. Getting food would be a priority she'd address later.

Emma laid backwards against the porch, her boots hanging over the steps. Being on her back was the only position that didn't hurt, and she rested her purple fists against the cool, damp planks, letting out a low sigh of relief, despite the throbbing pain from the pressure on her bruised flesh.

She closed her tired eyes, listening to the steady patter of the raindrops smattering against the roof. She timed her breaths with her heartbeat. Two beats for every inhale, three for the exhales. Birds were chirping. One...two. Pause. One...two...three. Her feet felt cold. One...two. Pause. One...two...three. Pause. Something jumped in the water with a wet plop. Two...three. Pause. One...two. Pause. She could hear boots crunching against gravel. Two. Pause. One...two...thr- Boots?!

Emma shot upright, grunting with pain. She quickly unholstered the pistol still strapped to her hip, her thumb hovering over the safety. She hauled her body upright, clinging onto one of the support beams for the porch awning. She kept her focus on the path that led from the front of the cabin around to the side and rear, where the car was parked.

She could distinctly hear the leisurely footfalls grinding in the dirt, heading down the path. Emma raised the gun, keeping it trained on the point where her uninvited guest would appear. It was barely ten seconds before the visitor rounded the corner, and despite knowing exactly who it was, Emma kept the gun raised.

"Ruby?! What the hell are you doing here?" she barked at the girl.

The brunette let out a shrill little scream, freezing in her spot. "Emma! Holy shit! DON'T SHOOT ME!"

"What are you doing here!" Emma hissed, still not lowering her weapon.

"Looking for you, Em!"

"Are you here to try and bring me in? Or did Regina send you to track me down so she could do it herself? Gonna snitch my whereabouts to David so he can arrest me?! ANSWER ME," she bellowed at the cowed girl.

"Slow down, Em! No one knows I'm here!" Ruby held her hands up after dropping a duffel bag on the soggy ground. Emma faltered slightly; her lie detector didn't go off. If she wasn't here to try and bring her in... "Would you put the gun away? I'm not here to hurt you."

"S-sorry..." Emma tucked the pistol away, her face burning with hot shame.

"Here, let me help you." Ruby pulled out Emma's cane that was sticking out of the bag. She picked it up on her way over to the blonde, holding out the walking implement for her friend. It wasn't lost on the waitress how busted up the hand that grabbed the cane looked.

The sheriff looked at Ruby. She noticed how pale her usually blushed cheeks were, and Emma realized that she must look horrifying. She was covered with cuts, bruises, vomit, dried blood, her hair was a tangled mess, and she knew she probably looked like death warmed up.

The two entered the cabin, and Ruby plopped the duffel bag on the bed before whirling around to give Emma a hard, worried look. The blonde met the gaze with a sheepish expression, fidgeting with the handle of her cane, unsure where to start.

Ruby broke the silence by saying, "You look like a bag of shit, Em." A tiny smile played at her lips, letting the other woman know she wasn't going to bite her head off.

"If I knew I was gonna have guests I would have put flowers in my hair. My bad."

"Or maybe just shower?"

"Yeah, well, no running water, Rubes. There's a pump from the dark ages behind this place, but that water is so cold!"

"About that... Sit down, Emma. We've got a lot of stuff we need to talk about."

Emma groaned loudly, but hobbled over to one of the spindly chairs at the table. "What is there to say? I fucked up. Big time. I know. But-"

Ruby held up her hand, effectively silencing her hostess. "First off, you tried to kill the mayor." Emma opened her mouth to protest, but was silenced again. "I don't know all the details, but I can put two and two together. Henry was freaking out when you went into your coma, saying that Regina poisoned you, but no one believed him.

"My guess is that you remembered that particular detail, yeah? I'm not exactly a tempered lady, and I can imagine freaking out over something like that. I can totally understand wanting to lash out against the person who did that to you. I really do. Regina's had a good thrashing coming her way for a long time. In fact, I've heard some people grumbling in the diner about wishing that you'd properly finished the job.

"But there's a problem, Em. Several. First of all, did anyone tell you murder is bad? Don't give me that look! Secondly, way to do it in public. Last time I checked, you're supposed to murder someone in private. Again, don't give me that look, Em. Thirdly, why did you hit Mary Margaret? I know you were freaking out, but she's been shaken enough as is after your little hoedown. But slapping her? A little dramatic, don't you think?

"Em, she's worried sick about you. David has an arrest warrant out for you. You're actually number one on Storybrooke's most wanted. Sidney did a very...colorful piece on that one. She's your best friend..." Ruby fixed her with a stare filled with so much heat that Emma couldn't maintain eye contact.

"The last thing I need to mention..." The brunette gently placed her fingertips on her friend's chin, pulling her face around so their gazes locked again. "Henry."

Emma pulled away, running her hands through her frazzled mane, sighing heavily. "What happened? And don't hold out on me."

"He's pissed. Like, super pissed, Emma."

"At me?"

"No, he's pissed at Sister Astrid. Of course he's pissed at you! You're his hero, the person he looks up to. Emma, you're his mom."

"But-"

"No. No buts. You're his mother, and you attacked his other mother. How do you think he feels? He's scared, protective and passionate."

"But it wasn't so long ago before my coma that he hated Regina. He wanted nothing more than to be as far from her as possible!"

"Kids are fluid. And Henry loves Regina; he just needed something to remind him of that. You lost your cool with Regina...again. And, as usual, Henry got hurt in the process. Do you want that?"

"Of course I don't! How dare you suggest that I would want to cause my own son pain," she snapped.

"No," Ruby replied calmly. "But it always seems to happen when you two go at it. Those other times look like tickle fights compared to what went down yesterday."

Emma's head slumped down into her arms crossed on the table. "What do I do?" came the muffled question. She popped her head back up again. "Ruby, I'm so, so confused. There's so much hate running through me! I wanna go back there, regardless of any arrest warrants and finish the job! I want to end her! I don't want Henry to live with that monster!"

"At the rate you're going, Em... You're not far behind Regina. What will Henry think? What will he do if his hero turns into a villain? I don't think he wanted you to murder Regina. Look," she said softly, placing a sympathetic hand on the sheriff's forearm. "You want my advice? Lay low for now. Stay here and let things cool down. Once they do, you can come back and deal with this shit storm, okay?"

"Uh, Rubes? Look around you. There's no power, no food, no anything."

"That's where I come in!" Ruby replied with a sly smile. Her eyes darted to the black duffel bag. "Room service!" she trilled. She unzipped the bag and started pulling out piles of clothes. "I visited Mary Margaret. While she was in the bathroom, I crammed a bunch of your clothes in here. I also grabbed you a box of tampons," she said pulling out said object.

"Ruby... This is..."

"Wait, I haven't pulled out the best thing yet!" She dug both of her hands into the bottom of the bag and yanked out two bottles of Jack Daniels. "Sobriety is overrated when everything's gone to shit! Am I right?" She turned to face her friend, brandishing the bottles over her head with a big smile on her face.

"Hear, hear. But I still can't survive on just whiskey, Rubes. Hide any pop tarts in there?"

"I'm not stupid, Em. I brought a bunch of non-perishables and a few cases of bottled water in my car. I also brought you a cheeseburger. I figured you could use one." When she looked at the blonde, she saw a pair of glassy, green eyes staring back at her.

"Ruby, I don't... I don't deserve any of this. I'm..."

"You're damn right you don't. However, you're no good to us half-dead, and we won't be able to straighten this shit out. Healthy body, healthy mind right?"

"Then why are you giving me alcohol?" Emma asked wryly.

"'Cause you need it," she responded simply.

"How did you find me? My cell's been off, so you can't've traced it..."

"How did I find David? How did I find Regina? I just do. I followed my instincts."

"Find Regina?"

"You didn't hear about that?" Emma shook her head in the negative. "While you were in your coma, Regina wandered off in the middle of the night, sleepwalking or something. No one knew where she was. Henry had me track her down." Ruby explained the whole ordeal in detail to the blonde who listened intently. The waitress casually left out some of the more important details, like how it happened a second time, and how Henry insisted Regina be taped to Emma. Ruby didn't think she was ready to hear that.

"So that's why I saw Regina at physical therapy?"

"Mhm. Things were pretty fucked up when you-"

"Were nearly murdered?" she finished for the waitress.

"...Yeah. Also, I, uh...know a guy who works at the power station, if you catch my drift. I talked him into turning the electric on at this place. No, I didn't mention you. So you should have power and running water by tonight."

After Ruby had brought the rest of the supplies into the cabin the two women sat out on the porch together, Emma devouring her cheeseburger and drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.

"Slow down on the Jack, killer. It's only, like, 2:30. I don't think you want to add to the puke that's already on the floor in there." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the shack. "And in your hair," she mumbled as an afterthought.

"Had a rough night," the sheriff choked out around the burn in her throat.

"That excuse won't hold up for long, Emma."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Ruby's alarm on her phone went off. "Shit, I have to go. My shift's gonna start soon." She leaned over and planted a friendly kiss on the part of Emma's hair that didn't have dried blood and vomit in it. "Take some time to think, screw your head back on right. I'll be back in a few days, 'kay?"

"Thanks again, for everything, Ruby." Emma said around another swig of liquor.

"Hang in there. It'll work out." The waitress hopped up and sauntered off to her car, leaving Emma on the porch. Rain was still falling gently, and she added the sloshing of whiskey to the soft cadence of the raindrops. One...two. Pause. One...two...three. Pause. Her head felt warm and fuzzy. One...two...three. Pause. Her hands ached. ...two. Pause. One...two...three. Pause.

"Emma," whispered a familiar, forgotten voice.

As always, you can find me on Tumblr at Writers-Dilemma. tumblr. com