A/N: I know I didn't put Regina's reaction in that last chapter…I had my reasons hehe. I hope this one makes up for it ; ) I love you all and your beautiful reviews! It keeps me motivated to continue…. *and yes I am abandoning homework to write this chapter because OUAT has ruined my life- in a good way*

Remember in the letters: Emma and Henry have avoided the second curse and are now living under false memories, blissfully unaware of their time in Storybrooke or their true family.

Oh Emma.

Those are the only two words that Regina can fathom as her hand holds the letters like a lifeline. I guess for Emma, they were. She has always been something to someone. With Rumplestiltskin she was his monster; with her mother she was her chance at royalty; with Leopold she was his queen; with Snow she was a replacement mother; with Robin she was- is- his soulmate. And yet with Emma, she has just been Regina.

Something flickers in hand. A tiny fireball. She clenches her fist, suppressing it, confused at the sudden influx of anger. She is defeated as she sits, back against the wall of her vault, surrounded by a myriad of magic yet most importantly a sea of letters. And she is most definitely drowning.

Oh Emma.

She flicks back through every memory of the blonde, her temples throbbing at the pain. Emma first arriving at her doorstep, Emma making her so angry the blonde did not leave her mind for the rest of the day, Emma laughing, Emma saving the town, Emma crying, Emma with Hook, Emma with Neal, Emma letting the darkness engulf her, EmmaEmmaEmmaEMMA! Magic is spurting from her fingertips like tiny fireworks, bursting in to flame upon impact with the wall. She is vaguely aware that she is having a panic attack and tries to focus everything in to two words, Oh Emma.

Why didn't you send those letters?

"Regina?"

Robin's voice penetrates her angry shell, fracturing Emma's image inside her head. Regina wipes her eyes and attempts to gather up the array of crumpled paper before-

"Regina! What happened!? What are you doing?" Robin crouches in front of her, clasping her hands to his chest and allowing her to sob. But his fingers are too cold; too rough; too large for hers and she is lost in his grip. "Regina, tell me," he softens. And she can't think, can't do anything yet fixate on his hands.

"Are these…? Are these letters?"

She nods.

"From...," he focuses on the name, "Emma!?"

She nods again.

"Regina….?"

"I- I have to go- I have to find her-and-"she splutters scratching against his hands- a cage around hers.

Robin grips tighter in his urgency. "No! Regina this could tell us about Camelot. The truth!" He reaches for the nearest envelope, unopened.

"NO!" It comes out angrier than she had expected. Robin shrinks back and runs a hand through his wild hair, defeated. "I'm sorry, it's just…" and she trails off. These letters were meant just for her- not her Soul Mate. It just seems wrong somehow to let him read Emma.

He smiles kindly and her heart aches. Except… it doesn't feel like it's aching for him. They remain motionless for several minutes, blue eyes intently trying to understand avoiding dark brown ones. Robin sighs and presses a kiss to her slightly parted lips. She clamps them shut upon impact and suddenly he's not Robin at all but Leopold and she just has to get him OFF!

Magic erupts between them as his body is thrown backwards like a discarded doll. Regina gasps and sinks further, shaking with wracked sobs of despair. I hurt him. I used dark magic.

A veil of tears blurs her vision as the man stumbles towards her. He crouches down once again and she winces, preparing to suppress her emotions and control her magic and-

"Regina. What do you want me to do?"

And she exhales in staggers and croaks out one word. "Leave."

And he does.

And she can breathe again.

Dear (I don't even know who I'm writing to…)

This undoubtedly the most ridiculous thing I've ever done in my whole life. But I'm still doing it… probably because I'm ridiculous.

I have this weird niggling feeling, like a void or something, that is telling me that I should write to you. And I have no idea who you is. I suppose I will start with a little bit about me and my tiny family:

Home is a roomy apartment in New York. It is the top floor and the view is amazing at night. My son Henry likes video games and chips and rain and he has this funny obsession with striped scarfs. We always have hot chocolate at 8pm and we always have it with cinnamon.

I guess that's us,

Emma

Dear stranger (again),

I wasn't going to write to you… but I had this crazy feeling that I just should. It has been a year since my last letter and… I now have a ring on my finger. An engagement ring. And Henry is so happy and I'm… that's the thing. I don't know how I feel.

Whoever you are, I feel comfortable writing to you. I feel like I could tell you anything. So here it goes: I just don't feel that Walsh is… enough. That's crazy, I know. He is brilliant, he makes me smile and feel beautiful but he's missing that thing. That thing where you could look in to someone's eyes and get positively lost in them; that thing where you want to know everything about the other, even the bad bits; that thing where you love them unconditionally and always have.

But that probably doesn't exist. Except… why do I feel like it does?

Emma

Regina,

I remember.

Emma

A/N: I will update VERY soon with the next chapter. Sorry this one was shorter, I just felt like these letters needed to be isolated. It would great if you could a) review and b) follow my tumblr theshamlessfangirl I will be taking prompts for one shots etc. THANK YOU!