"Regina..."

Emma greets the brunette coldly, pressing her back against the pitted wall of her cell as she keeps to the far corner; the gloom of the dungeon providing only limited cover, but enough to shroud her bare flesh in shadow as the Mayor approaches the bars. The darker woman does so hesitantly, having run down the crumbling steps at full speed, but seeming suddenly uncertain now that she's found what she's looking for.

Who she's looking for.

And it's a reasonable concern. It wouldn't be the first time the Evil Queen masqueraded as another to aid her cruel trickery, but Regina doesn't think that's what's happening here. She senses only the Saviour- only Emma- and she lets out a shuddered breath as she comes to stand flush with the bars and meets green eyes glittering at her through the darkness.

"Emma..."

She repeats with less urgency than before and a great deal more unease. She receives no response, which doesn't strike her as a particularly good sign, and she swallows as she glances down at pale skin streaked crimson, before hastily lifting her gaze to safer territory.

"Are you alright?"

She asks quietly.

"Do I look alright?!"

Emma snaps, and Regina muses that while she should have anticipated a response of this nature, she would never have anticipated the tangible hatred the younger woman injects into her tone.

I don't understand... I'm here to help you. I came to get you out of here. Fear and anxiety I could understand. Hell, I would even understand some annoyance that I failed in my bid to rid myself of the Queen once and for all, but it's not me that's locked you in there. Not me that dragged you to this place. Not me that hurt you.

Again, she glances at the blood that trickles down the blonde's legs with a grimace.

"No. You don't."

She replies softly, wanting to add something about the younger woman's nude state- wanting to apologise, although she knows it has nothing to do with her, not anymore- but she doesn't know what to say, and she's worried that mentioning the elephant in the room will only add fuel to Emma's very visible anger. The blonde has never been one to cope particularly well with knowing others are privy to her discomfort, and Regina thins her lips as she would guess that being forced on show as she is now causes the Sheriff a great deal more pain than the gashes painting her legs. Pulling off her jacket, she holds it out while simultaneously raising her other hand in an attempt to free the blonde from her cell, before something in the intensity of Emma's stare forces her to pause.

The darkness I felt lingering in that cuff.

The snake.

The hate in her eyes right now.

This latter hurts her more deeply than she'd care to admit; knowing she had once viewed Emma with a similar breed of contempt, but the blonde's response at the time had been mouthy frustration and stubborn defiance rather than to reciprocate in kind.

Don't look at me like that. I'm here to help you... Please...

She clenches her jaw, but she supposes given the state she's found the younger woman in, she should allow her her anger without taking it personally.

An obscure concept, given the circumstances.

Swallowing uncomfortably, she takes a wary step back but continues to push her jacket against the bars for the blonde to cover herself up as best as she can.

"Here."

She urges, attempting a smile that feels horribly strained.

"Let me out."

Emma replies, not moving.

"I... I'm not sure how."

Regina appeals lamely, and the blonde calls her out icily; her tone uncharacteristically harsh.

"Liar. You're not sure if you should."

"... Maybe you're right."

The brunette agrees, forbidding herself from lowering her gaze from the younger woman's face as she reasons apologetically

"You'd feel the same if the tables were turned."

"You don't know shit about how I feel!"

"Yes, I do... I know you're angry, and I know I probably won't like any of the reasons why... I know she brought you here, the Evil Queen, and, looking at the state of you, I can guess at some of the games she might have played. I understand that you're angry. Furious. I would be, too. I am! Believe me! Emma, I came here to help. I figured something wasn't right, and I'm sorry I didn't realise things seemed off straight away, but I promise, I did what I could as soon as I could... I didn't want to be wrong, though! I didn't want to alarm the others only to have you irritated with me that I'd caused a fuss. I really wish I hadn't worried about what now seems so unimportant in comparison to reality, but I was trying to act as I thought you'd want me to, you must know that."

"Save it."

The blonde hisses coldly, swallowing blood.

"No! I'm telling you the honest truth. The same as I did just now in admitting I'm not sure about opening this door... I don't like how you're looking at me."

Regina admits uneasily, cringing when this comment is met with silence before the younger woman laughs in a way that seems a little hysterical. Raising her voice, the Mayor continues fretfully

"Stop that! Listen to me. I went to your house after things seemed strange between us... I wasn't sure what to make of the way you were behaving, and I get now that you were trying to convey something was wrong, but at the time, I just... I wasn't sure what to make of it. I wanted to make sure you were okay, but when I got there, the door to the basement was in pieces and I found the cuff that the Evil Queen used on you lying at the bottom of the stairs. It's broken, Emma, and that shouldn't be possible. Not without a massive shift in power, and I could feel that power. I could feel that magic- your magic- lingering in the cuff when I picked it up, but it wasn't like anything I'd felt from you before. Not even when your name was on the dagger... I could feel it then, and I can see it now. That you're angry, I understand, but that's not what I sense from you. Not all that I sense from you... I want to open the door, dear. I do. I want to let you out and bring you home, but I'm not sure what you'll do if I break the seal that's keeping you in and subduing your magic, and that gives me pause... I don't feel especially good about myself admitting that, but the truth is the truth... So, please. Take the jacket, and tell me I'm wrong to be concerned."

"You're wrong to be concerned."

Emma parrots back without any discernable emotion, and when Regina greets this comment with a wounded grimace, she rolls her eyes.

"Worth a shot."

"Emma..."

The brunette appeals, trying to break through the stoniness of the younger woman's glower; something she's ordinarily quite talented in. They spend a good amount of their time bickering, and sometimes, inevitably, the amusement of doing so will wear thin and sarcasm will evolve into genuine irritation. Once upon a time, a heartfelt apology would be the only way forward, but for a while now, a simple, silent meeting of minds has served to settle things between them; a hard stare or a knowing look all that's usually required for one to understand the other perfectly.

"Come on."

Regina sighs when she senses no change in the blonde's expression, and she brandishes her jacket pointedly before stepping back hastily when the younger woman lunges forwards. Emma yanks the fabric from her roughly with a hiss of irritation, and Regina keeps her distance with an uneasy tic to her jaw as she's fairly certain that the blonde had been aiming to grab a hold of her rather than the jacket she shrugs on indifferently.

"Rude."

Emma remarks in a queerly conversational manner, and the darker woman studies her reproachfully.

"I don't know why you're so angry with me. I didn't mean for any of this to happen..."

Regina states quietly.

"But you let it."

Emma hisses, pressing her tongue hard against the roof of her mouth in an attempt to savour the taste of blood still hot and metallic in her throat; striving to block out the carnival of bad memories the Queen has unearthed and let out to play.

You let all of those things happen, and where's the line? Where's the line, Your Majesty? Madame Mayor? Where's the line between my misfortune and the consequences of your decisions?!

"I was confused!"

Regina snaps, misunderstanding the younger woman's response and going back to their unsettling exchange back in Storybrooke.

"If you were trying to convey something or hint at something by acting as you did, I'm sorry, but I didn't understand what it was! Something was wrong, I knew that much, but you have to agree that there's quite some scope between wondering why you were dressed so... Like that... And the Evil Queen coming back from the presumptive grave and taking you hostage!"

"... Like that?"

Emma muses upon the Mayor's wording silkily, and the brunette frowns as she really doesn't think the younger woman's dress is what they should be focusing on right now.

And, I don't want to focus on it! On how I felt with you sat so close to me wearing it...

She swallows, finding no comfort in the way the blonde currently has a great deal more on show than she did that morning.

"... How did you think I looked, anyway?"

Emma asks, and she watches curiously as the Mayor appears momentarily thrown by the question before lowering her gaze uncomfortably to the floor.

"How do you think I look, Regina? What do think of me?"

The blonde baits, moving her hands to her hips with little care for the slash decorating her right side as she allows the darker woman's jacket to fall open and expose her fully.

"Are you going to lie and tell me you're avoiding the view out of distaste?"

She goads; daring the brunette to study her properly, but Regina turns her attention resolutely to the wall as she replies tersely

"I'm not going to tell you anything. I can only imagine what that woman has told you, and while I don't know the particulars, I apologise. I don't need to know the particulars to know that an apology is warranted. I don't know why you're naked, and I don't know why you're bleeding. I don't want to know why you're in the state you're in. I can only assure you that I'm sorry. Sorry for allowing that vile woman to exist and get the better of me. Believe me..."

"Hm. Spoken like a true politician... Oh, I know, it's all a farce. You're no more the Mayor than I am the Sheriff, but as we've both played our roles with some conviction until now, the comment stands... You didn't answer my question."

Emma growls, earning herself a hard glance up and down before the brunette looks away again. Still, when she speaks, the beginnings of anger are apparent in her tone beneath her unease.

"To tell you that I don't want to see you like this isn't a lie, Miss Swan. To tell you I don't suffer distaste would be a lie. What part of finding you in your current state should appeal to me exactly?"

"I can think of several parts."

The blonde smirks, and Regina thins her lips as, if not for the fact that she recognises the furious pulse of the younger woman's caged magic, she would be convinced she was facing the Queen with such an unsavoury remark.

She's angry. She's been locked up and humiliated, and she's angry. Baiting you and using the object of her discomfort as a weapon is preferable to crumbling and admitting how ill at ease she feels right now. You know her- better than you know almost anyone- and you know she can't allow herself to let the indignity of this situation get the better of her.

True, and the brunette swallows as the unwelcome thought comes to mind that the blonde has likely already crumbled a few times since being here, and she strives to keep her patience- her kindness- as she ignores Emma's loaded comment and replies softly

"You're hurt. That's all I see when I look at you right now. The reason I'm looking away is because I have no business seeing anything else."

"Right... You know, a couple of days ago, I would have agreed with you, but that's not how your darker-half chose to play things."

"I can see that... I'm sorry."

"Are you?... You know, she started all this. She claimed it was a way to seek revenge on my mom, but I can't see how defeating Snow has fuck all to do with watching me shower!"

"I-"

"-She played the first few hands of our tournament, and they all smacked of a similar theme. Not one of wrath- not just wrath- but lust. I told her over and over that I wasn't going to be broken by her fucked up little games; that I was fully conscious of the fact that she wasn't you. Her opinions and her threats, they weren't you. The way she was choosing to get under my skin, that was her, not you... Only, that shit has to come from somewhere, right? She didn't just materialise out of thin air, and neither did her perversions."

"Emma, I don't know what you're implying. I-"

"-Liar!"

The blonde snarls again, and she'd like to think that the flush to the Mayor's cheeks derives from embarrassment at being called out, but the darker woman appears visibly upset; flustered not just by the insinuation, but simply by being chewed out so remorselessly by the friend she's come to try and help.

Well boo-hoo for you. Makes no difference to me anyway...

Emma glowers at the darker woman; holding on to her anger for dear life when a troubling pang of guilt threatens to creep inside her gut as she watches Regina's throat work tellingly.

Don't let go of the darkness! You found it again, and look how much stronger you are. How much better you feel now that you're not worrying about all of the shit you let consume you before. How much safer you are like this... And let's not forget, she's the fucking reason you have such tangible access to the darkness in the first place. She has only herself to blame. She let you take the dagger in her place, and she let you bear the brunt of her curse in her fury...

"... Is now really the time to talk about any of this?"

Regina asks finally, finding the younger woman's gaze unhappily, and the blonde frowns as she remembers asking the darker woman much the same, only to find out she was playing right into the Queen's trap.

After I admitted the truth, though.

After she pulled that admission out of me...

"So, you're saying there is something to talk about?"

She demands, and Regina narrows her eyes before looking away again.

"If there is, not that I have any clue what, we can deal with it when we get back to Storybrooke."

She replies with an air of finality, aware that she's lying through her teeth in her insistence that she's oblivious to what Emma might be getting at, but she's thrown to have such a delicate conversation expected of her when they stand on opposite sides of cursed bars.

Thrown that such a conversation should ever be expected.

"Well, we best get going then. Open the door."

Emma orders; nothing in her tone suggesting that this would be a good idea.

"Let me!"

Regina counters warily.

"Let me feel like I can do so without you throwing all that you've got at me once I do... I've fought beside you many times, Miss Swan, and I know that's not an assault I'm going to come out of all too well."

"Really? It took your other half quite some convincing to come to that conclusion."

"Because we're not the same person!"

The brunette all but shouts.

"But you were."

Emma replies sullenly, no longer sure she sees much of a game in their current exchange if the brunette refuses to bite, and when she gestures down at herself this time, she does so without her previous suggestive smirk.

"The Queen did this, but there was a time when you would have wanted to do the same, and now you're asking me to behave and promise I won't retaliate."

"Emma... It's been a long time since I would want anything bad to happen to you, and if you don't know that- you do know that!- then ask yourself why I'm here. If that woman told you anything other than that I care about your wellbeing, I would have hoped you'd possess better sense than to believe her."

"... She didn't tell me that."

"Well, then!"

Regina raises her palms in a show of helplessness which seems only to darken Emma's mood. Frustrated as she's not sure what else to say and acutely aware of the passing of time, the brunette does all that she can think to do for the moment and focuses her energy so that she may at least attempt to heal the ugly lacerations patterning the younger woman's legs. To do so, she needs to concentrate not just on her magic, but on the injuries themselves, and she feels uncharacteristically shy as she requests quietly

"Come closer, please. Believe what you will about my motives if you refuse to take into account everything that's come to pass between us, but I don't wish to watch you bleed. You can make of that whatever you like, but right now, it's the only thing I can think to do to help."

"Are you sure you don't just want a closer look?"

Emma teases, although her eyes suggest she's torn beneath her sultry smile, and the brunette simply sighs.

"If that's what you want to tell yourself, go ahead."

She injects a touch of scorn into her reply, although nowhere near as liberally as she might usually choose to do when faced with someone not acting as she'd like. She knows she can't really blame Emma for being difficult given the circumstances, and while that wouldn't ordinarily stop her from reminding the blonde of her place, this isn't exactly an ordinary situation.

That, and there's some truth to her accusation... I don't care to take that thought any further, but... One can't always help the way they feel.

She clings to this notion as she studies slim legs with a carefully neutral expression; Emma finally complying and stalking a little closer to the bars. Of course, she's seen the blonde's legs plenty of times; the younger woman generally favouring various shades of drab denim while on duty or running around town, but at home in the summer, she will occasionally opt for shorts when inviting the Mayor over for a glass of wine so that they may sit on her front steps and watch the sun go down.

I doubt that's going to be happening again any time soon... And not just because of the weather.

Regina sighs as she readies herself to get to work. She supposes she doesn't usually get to see quite so much of the younger woman's thighs as she's being treated to right now, and she certainly hasn't ever been offered an opportunity to take her attention any higher. Not to where she absolutely isn't going to look or so help her!

Treated? Offered? Opportunity?...

She nips the tip of her tongue uneasily; holding out her hands as she begins to emit a low, continuous energy to heal the cruel slashes of her evil half's folly. She doesn't dare look up at Emma as she does so; knowing the blonde maintains her mask of finding this all deliciously perverted to hide the occasional wince as the cuts to her legs are melded shut.

"Sorry..."

Regina murmurs when the younger woman flinches as she begins work on a nasty slice to her inner thigh.

"Don't be, I'm enjoying it."

Emma scoffs through clenched teeth, forcing further discomfort onto the brunette which the latter doesn't care to analyse further.

Finishing up with the cut to the younger woman's hip- by now having to make a concerted effort not to let her attention linger where it shouldn't- Regina wrinkles her nose as she assesses her work. Unlike her self-inflicted wound to get her this far, Emma's injuries appear merely to have been the result of a cruel punishment handed to her by the Queen, and should, in theory, no longer be visible.

"I can't do more than that. I think my magic has its limits when it comes to you, dear, which is probably for the best."

Regina sighs apologetically as she considers thin scars; no longer open and no longer bleeding, but distinctly more noticeable than her own.

"So you can hurt me as much as you please, but there are rules about paying for your actions?"

Emma raises a brow, her face chalky apart from the messy splash of scarlet trailing her jaw; something else that Regina doesn't want to know a whole lot about.

"I didn't do that!"

The brunette argues defensively.

"That wasn't me, and I don't know how it works! Up until now, my attempts to physically harm or heal you have been fairly negligible compared to the state you were in when I came down those stairs! And, if we're talking rules, you shouldn't have been able to free yourself of that cuff! So, please, just stop looking at me like that! I'm trying to help you, Emma!"

"Then let me out!"

"I-"

"-Let me out so I can find the bitch-version responsible! You could do that at least! I-"

"-Ah. I thought I could feel my ears burning."

A sultry voice heralds from above, interrupting their fraught exchange.

"You! What the hell did you do to her!?"

Regina turns around to demand of the woman stood shrouded in shadow at the top of the stairs; fury causing her voice to waver.

"A lot more than you, it would seem."

"I-"

"-Even though I've basically offered you the girl on a platter, dear."

"Fuck you!"

Emma snaps, and the Queen descends further down the steps so that the others can see her face; her eyes wide and mockingly sincere.

"Now, Emma, I thought I'd give Madame Mayor a turn. Don't be a brat."

She scolds sweetly, receiving pure venom from the Sheriff's expression. She pays this little mind; utterly captivated by the way Regina looks up at her as though she's just received a hard slap to the face.

Such a pretty face, if I do say so myself...

"Let me the fuck out, Regina. Let me out now..."

Emma hisses through gritted teeth, and the Mayor glances back at her uncertainly and raises her hand to do as has been asked; currently feeling both horribly warm, yet curiously as though all of the blood has drained from her body.

"Why would you do this?!"

She pleads once more of the woman looking down on them with a fiendish grin; her voice little more than a whisper.

"Oh, why, why why? Why are you both so obsessed with the why?"

The Queen rolls her eyes, before shaking her head as Regina turns back to the cell door with a little more conviction.

"I wouldn't do that, dear."

"And why would I ever listen to you!?"

Regina snaps over her shoulder, before opening the door with a flick of her wrist.

"Yes!"

Emma snarls, the sound purely animalistic as she readies herself to charge. Unfortunately for both herself and the Mayor, the Queen takes this opportunity to send out her hardest burst of power yet; this time aiming for her better-half and sending the brunette colliding painfully into the Sheriff with enough force to land them both sprawled out on the floor of the cell. Closing the door with a graceful movement of her hand, she makes her way leisurely down the steps, tutting loudly.

"So close, dear."

She offers the Saviour her false commiseration, coming to stand at the bars with her head cocked as she watches the blonde struggle to push herself to her feet while pulling in a succession of pained gasps.

"As for you..."

The Queen turns her attention to the Mayor who seems to be clinging onto consciousness by a thread and remains laid out in the dirt.

"You would have done well to listen to mother. Love is weakness. Caring for another- caring at all- is weakness, and a mistake you're now going to pay for."

Dark eyes crack open to acknowledge her blearily as the Mayor's breath comes out in short, winded bursts, and Regina watches with a slick click of her throat as the Queen produces a large knife which she holds out, blade first, to the blonde, before letting her lashes fall closed and unconsciousness to take her.