They had a few more normal visits in Regina's office, and a month went by without any serious incidents. However, on the fifth of November, as soon as Emma sat down in the large, comfortable chair, she burst into tears.

"I fucked up," she cried. "I fucked up."

"Emma," the doctor started, genuine concern flooding her face. "What happened?"

"They beat me."

She lifted her shirt enough to show her darkly bruised rips, tears pouring down her cheeks. When she pulled the shirt back down, she tugged the sleeves of her sweater up and showed her therapist the freshly carved cuts.

"I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop myself."

"Emma... Emma..."

"You can't tell. You can't."

"You know I have to. You know that. I'll lose my job. Besides, why would you want to stay with those horrible people?"

"Because the next ones will probably be worse!"

"But what if they're not? What if they're okay and you can get through this?"

"If they move me, I'll never graduate. They'll hold me back again."

"We'll figure it out, okay? I have to tell. I promise it'll be okay. We'll find you a good home, and everything will be okay."

Emma couldn't control her sobs as she gripped the tissue box in her hands, her knuckles turning white.

"You can't tell."

"I have to."

"PLEASE don't!"

Emma was nearly screaming.

"Emma, relax. It's going to be okay. I promise. I promise."

"You can't promise me that!"

Deep down, Regina knew this was true.

"Help me," Emma sobbed.

"I will," her therapist promised. "I will, but you have to stop cutting. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"I can't stop."

"You have to, Emma."

"No, I don't. You can't make me do anything."

"I'm not trying to force you. I'm not telling you. I'm asking you. Please, Emma. Please. For your own safety."

"I don't care about my safety," Emma said quietly. "I really don't care."

"I do," Regina told her.

"I don't care," Emma repeated.

"Emma, please. Please understand that this is terrible for you."

"It's the only way I have to cope."

"It's not. You can talk to me, sweetie. You can tell me anything you want to."

Sweetie? Regina scolded herself, turning just a little bit red from embarrassment, but not commenting on or apologizing for the statement. Hearing the name, Emma blushed and felt her heart begin to pound loudly - so loudly, in fact, she wondered if Regina could hear it from where she was sitting.

"I know," Emma said. "But you're not there when all this is happening. I only see you twice a week. They beat me almost every day."

Regina felt her eyes well up with tears, but she knew she had to stay strong - for Emma.

"We're going to get you into a good home, and everything is going to be okay." Emma stayed silent, so Regina continued with, "This is a breakthrough, you know. You're finally opening up."

Before she left the office, Emma had dried her tears.

Another month later, Emma was in a new foster home, and Regina had been mostly right. There were three other foster siblings who bullied and beat on her, but the parents were decent. They had no idea that the bullying was going on, so they didn't know to stop it, but Emma refused to tell. At least it was much less severe than her previous home.

"Emma," Regina said. "I think you should tell them what's going on."

"But I'm not going to."

The therapist sighed, knowing she wouldn't win the battle.

"Why don't we go on another outing?" Regina asked. "Would you like that?"

Emma nodded slowly but blushed, thinking of their last adventure at the bowling ally and the way their hands had touched.

"I'd like that a lot," Emma muttered.

"Alright then. We'll go on Monday. What do you want to do?"

"Let's go shopping. I've got a job now, so I have a little bit of money, and I need new shoes."

She lifted her legs off the floor to show Regina her tattered Converse sneakers, which were worn through with holes.

"My feet get wet whenever it rains," Emma said nonchalantly.

Regina bit her lip, feeling pity flood her heart.

"Alright. Shopping sounds great. See you next week then?"

Emma nodded weakly and smiled.

On Monday, Emma showed up with a new bruises. Regina reached out to touch the ones on her arms, the pressure from her fingertips even lighter than the weight of a rose petal. Emma looked away as Regina's fingertips brushed her skin.

"I wish I could help you through this," Regina sighed.

"You are," Emma told her seriously.

They didn't say anything else as they got in the car and drove to the mall. When they arrived, Regina got out of the car quickly, and as Emma packed up her iPod and grabbed her purse, Regina went around to the passenger's side and opened the door for her.

"After you," she said, smiling.

Emma blushed and got out of the car. They made their way to the front entrance and as soon as they were inside, they both looked around, marveling at the size of the building.

"It's been a long time since I've gone shopping like this," Regina told Emma.

The girl nodded and said, "Me too. It's been a while since I've actually had any money."

"Let's go find those shoes, huh?" Regina said cheerfully.

Emma nodded with a smile and they walked up to the map in the middle of the food court, looking for the locations of any shoe stores.

"This one," Emma announced, pointing at the picture of one of the stores.

"Okay."

On the way to the other end of the mall, they stopped at a few stores. Regina picked a few girly ones and dragged Emma inside as the girl groaned in protest.

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad."

"Yes, it is," Emma retorted, but she followed the woman inside anyway.

"Smell this," Regina said, spraying a little perfume on a small sample card.

"Actually, that's... um..."

Emma blushed, her cheeks turning red as she imagined Regina wearing it as she leaned in and kissed her neck, smelling the floral sweetness when she moved closer. Snapping out of her fantasy, she felt her blush grow.

"That's really nice," she mumbled.

"Good!" Regina cried triumphantly, bringing a medium-sized bottle of it up to the register and paying for it as Emma waited patiently beside her.

They also went into a few stores Emma liked, stopping in front of one with a tower of body jewelry.

"I want my lip pierced," Emma told Regina, smiling thoughtfully.

"I think that would actually look really good on you," Regina said, nodding her head.

This made Emma smile as she reached out and touched the plastic case, staring longingly at the inside.

"Why don't you?" Regina asked, noticing the yearning in the girl's eyes.

"I don't know, actually. I guess it's because my foster parents wouldn't approve. All of them have been pretty strict."

"Oh," Regina said, biting her lip. "I'm sorry."

There was a pause as Emma's arm dropped back to her side.

"But hey," Regina started again, "you'll be out of there soon. You're almost 18. Less than a year and you'll be able to do whatever you want."

Emma smiled at this, for once feeling hopeful for her own future.

"Will I still be able to see you?" she asked, suddenly concerned as she looked into Regina's face.

"Of course!" Regina assured her, putting her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Of course you will."

Emma smiled again, feeling grateful for this.

"Will you go with me when I get it pierced?" she asked, to which Regina nodded.

"Sure."

Before they left the store, Emma bought a leather bracelet and some black eyeliner. When they finally reached the shoe store - after a few more stops - it took seven tries to find the right pair. The employee looked pretty pissed, but she was courteous nonetheless. When she finally found the right ones, Emma looked down into the mirror and grinned at the black skate shoes.

"They're perfect," she sighed happily, making her way up to the register to pay for them.

"I like 'em," Regina told her with a smile.

"Good. Me too."

After they were done shopping, a couple stores later, they ended up in the food court.

"Are you hungry?" Regina asked, looking at Emma.

The girl shrugged and answered, "I could eat."

When they chose one of the food shops and placed their order, Emma looked at Regina.

"Let me pay."

"No way," Regina said, shaking her head.

"Let me pay this time. You paid for bowling."

"It's not a date, Emma. I'm your therapist. I'm paying."

Suddenly, Emma felt her stomach drop. Right, she was thinking. She's right. It's not a date. She's your therapist. Just your therapist. But she couldn't help the disappointment that washed across her face. Luckily for Emma, Regina didn't notice this.

"I'm still paying," Emma mumbled, shouldering her way in front of the brunette and sticking out a wad of money for the cashier, who took it quickly and gave her back her change and her receipt.

"That's not happening again," Regina scolded her, frowning.

"Says you," Emma retorted.

"Emma!"

"What?"

"It's not appropriate for you to pay."

"So what?"

"So... So, it's not okay!"

"I don't care, remember? I don't give a fuck. No fucks to be given."

Emma opened her arms to demonstrate that there were, in fact, no fucks in the area.

"Alright," Regina sighed. "Okay."

Emma smirked as they sat down to eat, pleased at her triumph. Still, painful dismay boiled over in her stomach. You're sick, Emma, she told herself. She's just your therapist.