An angry screech slices through the winter silence as rubber burns over grey asphalt and the wing mirror of the brunette's Mercedes scrapes against Emma's bug.
"Shit!"
Regina hisses, but she pays the damage little mind; the strip of paint lining the blonde's car seeming almost hysterically unimportant. She pushes her way gracelessly from the plush interior of her Benz - her legs not quite willing to work the way she wishes them to - and hurries up the narrow footpath to the station's main entrance.
Could have sworn the path was never this long before...
Standing in the dimly lit hallway, Regina stills her breathing and recoils from the doomed silence that sits heavily in the air around her. She takes in a shuddered breath, before forcing her feet to journey onwards; her sharp heels tapping out an idiot rhythm on the cool linoleum floor.
It's too quiet. Too still... Since when was there no noise at all in this dump? Not even the sound of-
Her train of thought breaks mercifully, as upon nearing the office and the small kitchenette based a door further to the right, she picks up the faint hum of running water.
The sigh of relief that she lets out is less air than it is a wracked sob. Quickening her pace and shaking away the damning thoughts that have been churning in her mind - like locusts laid to hatch - she makes for the kitchen; not entirely sure what she plans on telling the blonde to explain why she's in such a fragile state, but deciding she doesn't much care.
"I could not give a single fuck..."
She breathes quietly; mimicking the expression she has heard the younger woman mutter on several occasions. She places her hand on the doorknob, frowning as her initial sense of foreboding creeps suddenly back into play. She tells herself to stop this nonsense; that if it isn't the Sheriff running the water she hears, who else would it possibly be?
Get a hold of yourself... It's all going to be fine.
Pushing open the door, she understands immediately that something isn't right.
No. Something is most definitely wrong.
Dark gaze flickering to the overflowing sink, she feels her heart climb up into her throat. At this particular moment - staring at the greying water that pools within the basin and patters lazily down onto the floor - she doesn't think she's ever seen a sight so unsettling. Hurrying over, she wrenches the tap forcefully to shut off the troubling stream flowing from the faucet.
"Ah!"
She stumbles as she trips over something when she turns away from the sink and squeezes her eyes instinctively shut.
She doesn't want to look down upon the source of her misfortune.
She doesn't need to.
"Please... No?"
She whispers to no one in particular, before cracking open her lids and peeking down from beneath sooty lashes. With her fear confirmed, she reaches quickly for the countertop as her knees buckle beneath her.
"No, no, no... No... Don't do this!"
She shakes her hand in a way reminiscent of how one might wag a disapproving finger at a disobedient child. Her desperate scolding goes unheeded as the Sheriff's eyes remain uncooperatively closed.
"Emma?"
The younger woman's ordinarily white gold hair is drenched a dull yellow as it fans out beneath her in the dirty dregs of the water that pools on the floor. She lies awkwardly on her side; the arm beneath her outstretched, and her shirt sleeve and chest stained dark with the spillage. Her jeans are pulled low on one side, revealing a slice of grey cotton, and the brunette lets herself fall heavily onto her knees beside her.
"Ah!"
She brushes a sharp pain from her knee distractedly as smooth skin is sliced open on a stray shard of glass. She notes that the majority of the vessel it must have come from is still clutched in the blonde's hand; jagged teeth of broken shards protruding from between her fingers. Paying her injury no mind, she shuffles closer and proceeds to shake the younger woman; gently at first, but then with a desperate violence that causes the Sheriff's head to smack lightly onto the drenched floor.
"Stop it! Stop this now!"
She cries out angrily when Emma remains insolently silent. Raising her hand and ignoring its obvious tremor, she brings it down hard across the blonde's face before falling back to rest against the cupboard doors as she brings her offending fingers up to her eyes and covers them fretfully; breathing erratically through her self-induced darkness.
"... Please?"
She sniffs, as the chilled water that wets the floor seeps into the silk of her dress pants causing the fabric to cling to her slim legs uncomfortably. Wiping her nose with the back of her hand childishly, she kneels forward once again and regards the Sheriff helplessly.
"Come on now, Miss Swan... Come on now..."
She presses her fingers to the blonde's throat, but the only thing she can feel is her own heartbeat; the flesh beneath her skin cold and clammy. Shaking her head, she tries the other side; pushing at the Sheriff's jaw with bruising force as she digs her fingers into various locations along the hollows and column of Emma's throat. Letting out a loud sob, she removes her hands and wrings them nervously in her lap. Closing her eyes, she strives to control her breathing before glancing down at the blonde calmly.
"My dear, if this is your idea of a joke..."
She leans in close; her face hovering mere centimetres from the Sheriff's pale features, staring down into closed eyes intently.
"Is it?... Are you-... Are you f-fucking with me?... You are, aren't you?... Emma?... Aren't you?"
Silence.
The brunette's forehead creases as she frowns irritably down into the nothingness displayed across the younger woman's face.
"Miss Swan, if you think this is funny, you are sorely mistaken! If you don't quit this right now, I will have you wishing you'd never been born!... Stop it!"
Silence.
"Stop it, you hateful bitch!"
Nothing.
The blonde's lashes don't even flicker as the Mayor yells in her face.
Regina breathes heavily, her dark eyes darting desperately over the Sheriff's chalky complexion; trying to catch her out. Choking back another sob, she wipes at her cheeks distractedly before hanging her head so that her dark tresses fall onto the blonde's chest.
"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have yelled... It was funny... It's funny... But, please... Stop it now, ok?"
Slim fingers stroke pale tangles shakily away from the younger woman's forehead.
"Ok, Emma?... Come on... The joke's over... Please?"
The Mayor closes her eyes as the blonde remains damningly still and she rests her head gently on Emma's sternum.
"Don't-... Don't do this... I-... I came here to stop you... I'm trying to do the right thing!... You can't-... You can't do this now... It's not fair!"
She shuffles back awkwardly - wincing as another shard of glass pierces her flesh - and rests her head to the side on the Sheriff's chest, studying the blonde's lifeless features unhappily. Her attention flickers momentarily to the right, noting a silver gleam in the corner, before deducing it to belong to an abandoned fork on which remnants of pastry still cling.
No. Not abandoned. Dropped.
"Why couldn't you have just gone back to Boston?"
She asks miserably.
Whatever her reasoning; the Sheriff isn't sharing.
"Because of Henry?... I-... I'm not saying I did everything right. But I didn't do everything wrong, either. I love him. Sometimes I don't show that so well in front of others... But, he has always had what he needed. Has always been looked after. I stand by what I said when you came... I know a lot more about being a mother than you do, dear. More than you ever could, having been absent so long... I would never hurt him, Emma. If I'd known he was so unhappy - that he'd felt the need to find you and ask for help - I would have-... I don't know... I-... I couldn't stand the thought of you taking him from me!... I didn't go the best way about showing it at first when you arrived, but I don't deserve to have him taken from me... I love him."
Regina sniffs as she fiddles with a section of the blonde's damp hair, running it through her fingers with a sad sense of affection.
"But-... You love him, too. I know... I had thought-... Sometimes it's hard not to mistake your actions for vengeance, Miss Swan... You're rude, obnoxious, crass... Just a general pain in the backside, really!... And what probably annoyed me most - what I just couldn't stand - is that you were only trying to do your best, also... And of course, Henry was going to prefer you! I'm the one that has laid down countless rules, that disciplines him when he misbehaves, that he sees day in and day out... You didn't have to do any of that! To him, you were someone he could have fun with, that he could confide in, that would let him run around without consequence... How is that fair?"
The brunette's voice breaks angrily as she clenches her fist around the sodden curls in her hand. Closing her eyes, and subsequently sending twin droplets rolling down her cheeks, she loosens her grip and sighs defeatedly.
"It's not fair. But, it's not your fault either... Christ, I wish I still hated you!"
She lets out a humourless chuckle before rising slowly onto her knees and straddling the younger woman's limp form in a way that has become so wretchedly familiar. Lips forming a watery smile, she presses them softly to the small scar above the Sheriff's left eye.
"I'm sorry, Emma... Truly."
Brushing her fingers gently through messy curls, she closes her eyes and lets the salt droplet travelling the full curve of her cheek to fall undisturbed.
"I'm so, so sorry..."
Sniffing miserably, she brushes her lips gently over the blonde's pale brow before pressing them tenderly to cold lips with a sad smile.
I love you.