Chapter Nine: A Parting Gift

The rest of the evening was spent mostly in silence, with no word from Emma as to how long she planned to keep them hidden inside their little lodge. If she was being honest with herself, Emma didn't quite know either, not just yet. A day longer? Two? Her head was a mess. She half expected Regina to protest when she moved to handcuff them together again when it was time to lay still and sleep, but the dark-haired woman offered her not so much as a single complaint.

Emma did eventually allow Regina the space to move freely about their small quarters, her guilt of having nearly barreled past a professional boundary only worked to slacken her leash on the other woman. She had come dangerously close to a making a terrible mistake and trespassing the consent of another human being. Something the blonde vowed to never do. Sure, Regina had wanted Emma to touch her. In fact, it was the closest to begging that she'd seen from the other woman. Even so, she was still in Emma's custody, ergo "consent" for sex was a moral ambiguity, at best. At worst, if anyone were to find out… Emma would never work as a bounty hunter again. She simply couldn't risk Regina running a long con, working loose Emma's tight grip on her just to claim assault once she was back in custody. Emma may be the "long arm of the law", but she'd have to keep her damn hands to herself. That deep-seated, almost pathological fear of trusting anyone else ever again, for any reason, demanded it.

The cold from outside had seeped into Emma's bones, making it difficult to warm up again. She shivered silent and resigned for a long while before bed. Her stubbornness made it equally hard work for Regina to convince her to take a cup of hot tea, but once she had, she found that she was finally able to relax. When nightfall reached the tender edge of twilight, Emma's head had not graced her pillow but for a minute or so before she was sleeping soundly like a log.

It was only the piercing shriek of an eagle's call from outside that had stirred her back towards consciousness.

…And Jesus Christ, did her head ever pound.

Emma wobbled as she pushed herself up onto her elbows while the room spun like a tilt-a-whirl around her. Dizzy, nauseous, and feeling quite like a hangover had made babies with an acid trip, Emma somehow landed on her back with an "oof" which pushed all of the air from her lungs in one short, agonizing gust. Was there floor beneath her? Or was it above her? And why did her hands feel like her feet? She garbled incoherently to rouse herself from her daze, only finding that it lingered the harder she attempted to focus. Her damn head… it felt like it was about to split in half. Wait, could it actually do that?

Writhing limb over limb in an effort to climb to her hands and knees, Emma didn't know which way was up. It would certainly help if the floor would quit fucking moving…! She screamed inside of her head. Had it been hours or minutes, she couldn't tell, but at last she was able to make out the leg of a chair, and then another. When she reached out to grab at it, the clatter of handcuffs which trailed behind her hand sent a shockwave of realization throughout her body.

Regina.

She was gone.

The blonde's heart began to thud painfully behind her ears as she pulled herself upright only to fall a moment later from having leaned too heavily against the chair. She smacked the ground and hissed from behind her teeth, angry as hell. After everything she'd done to protect her, to make her feel comfortable, to make her feel safe, Regina had tricked her… Again.

Emma could scream, if only she knew where the fuck her voice was.

She scrambled to make the floor level and then pulled herself upright again, and then up onto her feet. A dust covered frame of a painting fell to the hard floor with a loud crash as she stumbled into it on her way toward what looked like the bathroom. Emma nearly fell into the mirror to get a good look at herself, but damn her luck if there weren't four of her looking back. Was one of them grinning?

Am I dying…?

Nearing a full-blown state of panic, Emma's hands fumbled around for the faucet knobs at the sink, knowing they were right in front of her but still managing to swipe at thin air. She finally found the water there and splashed it against her face, drawing a ragged, bitter cold gasp between her lips. "Aghh—" The sound of her own voice made her flinch. The cold shock seemed to help, because her eyes were soon able to focus on just two of her ghostly, mirrored doppelgängers and when they shifted into one, Emma stared at herself with her mouth held agape and her pupils blown wide like saucers.

"What the hell?"

Just over her shoulder in the mirror stood the front door, and the imperative need to once again find and collect her bounty settled in. Thankfully, her rising anger worked to outpace her panic, but she only managed two proper steps away from the sink before she was lunging toward the bathroom again and emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet with painful, roiled over heaves. Once Emma was on her feet again, she realized her vision had cleared immensely— if not for the trance-like aftereffects of whatever it was that had upset her system so violently. A wave of her hand in front of her face seemed to leave a colorful, warped sort of trail, and then the faint memory of sitting across from a red-lipped smile with a cup of freshly brewed tea hit her like a ton of bricks.

She fucking didn't…

Gnashing her teeth with a rage that could flatten a mountain range, Emma stomped around the corner and into her boots, and then out through the front door. Though she was tempted to use the cuff dangling from her wrist as an improvised pair of brass knuckles, she fumbled to unlock them and stuffed them into her back pocket as her eyes scanned the rocky layout in front of the lodge. Her car was still parked nearby, which was surprising, to say the least. Surely Regina wouldn't have ignored the opportunity of taking it for herself…

More shrieking from above drew Emma's eyes upward as a mass of white and brown feathers dove sharply and then spread two enormous wings out to catch enough wind, landing softly upon a rail just out of arms reach. A bald eagle stared inquisitively at Emma, tilting its head with a curious and almost robotic manner at her. When its deep yellow beak parted, the sound that came forth was enough for Emma to clap her hands over her ears. She winced at the eagle's cry and stumbled backward a step when its wings unfurled once again to swing back and forth with great force, sweeping up a gust of fine dirt and dust as it took off into the air again.

Stunned, Emma followed the predatory bird toward a tall water tower just off into the distance. It circled overhead around the tower's old, cone shaped top and to Emma's great relief, standing down below it in the middle of its four legs, was Regina. No more than a length of a football field away, Emma took a moment to estimate the likelihood of catching her in a dead run. Before she could decide, the sound of speeding tires down a dirt lane came up behind her fast. A car was heading directly for the water tower, leaving a trail of red colored dust screaming in the wind behind it.

Go…

Go now!

Emma's feet shot forward, and she pushed herself into a full sprint down the small, rock covered hill. Despite the blonde's shouting, Regina noticed the car first and spun around to face it as a cloud of thick dirt flew into the air once it careened to a stop.

"Run!" Emma yelled into the wind. "Regina- run!"

Hearing her voice finally, dark hair swished over a shoulder as Regina whipped her head around to witness Emma sprinting toward her. The world beneath her feet seemed to tilt back and forth still, no doubt sending her into a zig zag as she pushed harder to reach the other woman. A figure stepped out from the red cloud behind Regina then, and Emma wasn't nearly close enough yet…

"No- stop!" Emma shouted.

Whoever it was struggled to pull Regina toward the car, and a hand flew out to slap her across the face. She kicked and screamed until Emma ran up on them, chest heaving and ready to land her fist across the side of a skull— if, of course, the one aimed directly at her own hadn't come out of nowhere first. Her ears rang behind the sound of a familiar voice, one that wasn't Regina's.

"You just don't know when to bloody quit, do you, Swan?"

…Killian?

Emma's vision went black, and tiny pinpricks of what looked like stars flew in a loop beneath her eyelids. The sickening -thud- sound of her body hitting the hard ground like a sack of potatoes came next, and right before everything went still, the faint but unmistakable screaming of her name bounced between her ears like a faraway echo.

"Emma—!"

Then, it all stopped.

Emma blinked, and her eyes burned.

The sun was right above her.

She blinked several times more, trying to make out why the sun was perched right over her head… and why it looked so much more like the rusty basin bottom of a water tower…

It took a few more dazed moments for the blonde to rattle her bank of recent memories around, but when everything came back to her, she lurched upright only to be yanked back down by her hands. Confused, Emma twisted her head around to look up toward her wrists. She was on her back, and her hands were bound by a thick zip tie around one of the tower's four legs. She pulled with all of her might but was unable to break it loose. That's when everything except for the water tower itself came crashing down around her.

Emma had likely been poisoned.

Regina had been taken.

And now, worse than anything else, her son would soon be without a home.

Now that she was tied like a broke mule to a water tower in the mountains of New Mexico where not a single person could hear her scream… Emma knew that she had yet again made another mistake. She had trusted Regina, and now she was paying for it. She'd lose everything.

Emma did eventually scream. She cried and she bellowed, and she screamed again, the heels of her boots giving hard kicks against the ground as the power of her voice shook her, and then a -crack- from beneath her one of her feet broke her out of her spiraling rage. Struggling past another sob, Emma blinked the tears from her eyes to look down the length of her body. There, poking up from the ground, was the dull shine of a split piece of shale. The landscape around her was indeed littered with miles of natural granite and limestone which glittered in the day's sun, but what she seemed to have forgotten about the soil below was that it was rife with shale. Years of erosion, and oil and gas drilling sucking the land dry made the area a plentiful, large scale shale deposit. Whatever divine providence that had seen fit to not let her journey end here, Emma took it upon herself to take the opportunity it afforded her without hesitation.

The sharp, jagged point sticking up near her bootheel was turned far enough up and out of the ground to break free. If she could just kick it out and shimmy it up the length of her body to take between her teeth, she could get it into her hands. Emma Swan would be damned to give up now without a fight. As long as she still drew breath, she'd find Regina.

"Hello there—" A tentative voice said from behind her. Emma twisted around to see who it was, ready to fight again if need be. "Are you alright?" It asked.

Emma witnessed a man approaching her, his dark-skinned hands held outward in caution. He had short, black hair peppered with gray near his temples and his brow furrowed with worrying lines as if he held that expression often.

"No- cut me free, please—" Emma begged, throwing her eyes down toward the shale piece now at her hip.

"My dear, you seem to be in trouble…" He said, squatting down to slice through the thick plastic of Emma's binds.

"You don't say—" Emma had half a mind to cuss when a sharp pain pierced the fleshy pad of her now healed thumb. "Ouch!"

"Terribly sorry, cher…" The man apologized for having accidentally cut her, then he held out a hand to help her up. "Here, let's get you on your feet."

Her head feeling like it was moments from caving in still, Emma blinked rapidly to get her wits about her again. The good Samaritan who had cut her free held her around her shoulders still, keeping her upright and from toppling over onto her face. Emma worked hard to keep track of the man's eyes as they swerved left and right in front of her. She just wished everything would stop moving, for God's sake…

"Miss Swan, can you tell me where my friend is?"

Absolutely blustered, Emma shook her head, dizzying her field of vision once again. "What- who—"

"Miss Swan, please…"

"How do you know my name?" Emma asked, yanking herself free of him with a clumsy sideways stumble. "Who are you?"

"Is she alright? What happened here? Where—"

"I'm asking the questions now!" Emma shouted frustratingly. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm a friend." The man answered with as much conviction he seemed to possess from within his small frame. "I was asked to come here- though I'm afraid I may have arrived too late…"

"Forget that- I've got to go." Emma said hurriedly, starting toward the lodge.

"Wait! Is she—"

"She will be fine- just as soon as I get her back." She snapped as she turned around on her heels, her patience having found its end. "And how did you even—"

Emma shook her head in amazement. The stranger was gone.

What the—

"Hello…?" Flabbergasted and having no clue where he could have gone with such a vast and open expanse around them, Emma worked hard to find words again. How strange it all was, even with the fact that the man seemed to appear out of thin air to begin with… Emma quickly shook off her astonishment and broke out into a run again. She wondered if maybe she hadn't just cut herself free and hallucinated the entire conversation? All Emma knew for certain was that she had meant what she said. Every word of it. She would be getting Regina back.

Everything hurt. Her head was still pounding from whatever Regina had laced her tea with from the night before, her jaw clicked with the angry and incessant gnashing of her back teeth and one of her arms gave a very rude and unexpected pain whenever she lifted it over her head. She must have fallen on it, though her body still felt a bit like it wasn't her own just yet.

She could have stolen my car…

She could have run…

How did she even call—

Emma whirled around inside the demolished room, witnessing the chaos of her tornado-like efforts to escape from it.

Shit.

Where's my phone?

Was Regina that desperate to trick her and to call for help? Emma couldn't understand it. After everything she'd done to keep her safe… and after everything Regina had said to boot. Emma realized she had done the one thing that she worked so hard to avoid. She'd dropped her guard. The possibilities whirled inside of her throbbing head, and she felt sick again. Had Regina meant to escape with the kind stranger that cut her loose? It's not like he had stuck around to give her much of a clue. Emma doubted he even existed. Maybe she really had been seeing things. She'd been poisoned, knocked clean out, tied to a water tower, and now that godawful voice in the back of her head was trying to make her see reason for Regina's betrayal. It made Emma so angry she could spit. She knew she was left with little choice now.

Emma had to call for help.

"Well, you were right."

"So, it is him?"

"Afraid so, love. Right foul git, that one. What's with the eyeliner, anyway? I don't get—"

"How'd she look?"

"Hmm?" The voice asked from the other end. "Oh, I suppose she was doing her best to keep a stiff upper lip about it, but I could tell she was nervous." There was a pause then. "Swan, if you're thinking of relieving poor Jones of his broody yet rather beautiful bounty, I would advise ag—"

"I don't need your advice, Robin. I just need you to do what we agreed. You owe me." Emma said into the phone, all teeth.

"Aye, that I do. I wouldn't have my Marian back if not for you. Don't worry, my word is oak."

"Good." Emma huffed, feeling worn out and ragged as hell. "Where were you thinking of running into him again?"

"That depends, how far are you from Sugar Land?"

Emma groaned. "He's got about a four hour head start on me and I'm driving as fast as I can."

"Then I shall make sure that he is held up for exactly four hours and one minute, m'lady."

The blonde rolled her eyes, apparently not fond of the man's flair for the dramatic. "I'll give you a holler when I reach Kingsbridge. Thanks, Robin."

"Like you said. I owe you one."

Emma paused, rubbing a thumb over an old scar on her thigh. "Alright. Just don't let me down."

The sound of a prideful laugh fell with her phone into her lap as she ended the call. Emma had one last shot at redeeming any chance in hell in keeping her promise and to collect on her bounty. The money… it pained her to admit it, but she still very much needed it. For the first few hours of her drive toward home, Emma was nearly foaming at the mouth with the thought of how she'd like to wrap her hands around the bounty hunter and all-around dirtbag-for-hire known as Killian Jones' neck and squeeze, but it was all she could do to power through the haunting sound of Regina's screams just before she had been knocked flat on her ass. Not only was Jones her competition, but he also happened to be her ex.

Sort of.

Emma's ability to spot danger a mile away had cut short her time with Jones to the tune of three weeks. Soon after, she realized he was harder to shake than a wayward duckling who repeatedly showed up at her house, the diner, and outside of August's bail bonds office downtown before disappearing into the ether of disgruntled men who had mishandled her. Killian Jones was a man that did not like the word "no".

She sighed, tightening her grip around her steering wheel. Emma couldn't stop replaying all of the awful images of Regina flailing desperately to get away, her feet shuffling around in the dirt, the sound of the slap that landed across her face… The rapid shifting between her seething anger and the fear she had for Regina's safety kept her mind occupied, to say the least.

Face it.

She needs your help just as much as you need the money.

"Shut up." Emma said under her breath, berating herself for arguing with her conscience of all things. "Stop being silly. What could you even do, convince an entire courtroom of her innocence just by saying 'I believe her'…?"

…Idiot.

Self-flagellation wasn't going to get her to Sugar Land any faster. Emma needed to focus. "Just hang on for a little while longer… I'm comin'."

Four miles away from city hall, Emma pulled out her phone to call Robin as she rolled to a stop just inside of Kingsbridge, a popular retail neighborhood on the north side of Sugar Land. It rang only once before someone picked up on the other end.

"Ah, lucky timing you've got, Swan."

"I sure hope so. I'm at Bissonett and Six, where are you?"

"Look up." Robin said cheerily.

Emma lifted her eyes and scanned the intersection as well as the parking lots both to her left and right. "I don't see you…?"

"Oh, you will."

The following silence on the other end distracted Emma from her anxious searching… "Robin?"

Suddenly, a very loud -bang- twisted Emma's head back around toward the middle of the intersection where two vehicles had collided, one having t-boned the other. Shocked, Emma squinted to get a better look at the driver of a familiar green Chevy Suburban. Inside, Robin lolled his head forward and awoke with a mischievous smirk.

"What the—"

Heart pounding, Emma sped out of her parking space and into the intersection, coming to a screeching halt beside them. Robin was climbing out from behind a crumpled hood just as Emma threw her door open to stand with her hands cradling her forehead in amazement. "What are you thinking?!"

"Apologies, did you not say to 'run into him'?" He answered with a laugh, giving a two fingered flourish of a salute from his forehead where a small cut ran with the color of blood. "Best be going now, have fun!"

"R- Robin!" Emma hollered over the sound of car horns and unhappy shouts from bystanders as the man sprinted into the distance. To his credit, the ex-bounty hunter turned antiquities smuggler had always possessed an irritating yet keen sense for helpful mayhem. Quite the "chaotic good" personality. Emma had learned not long after meeting him years ago that she could only stand him in small doses. Ask Robin to bring you a lit match, and he'd show up with a bonfire.

"Crazy do-gooder bastard…"

Just then, a door popped open on the other side of the wreck and out from it dangled two legs. Emma recognized her square toed boots immediately.

"Regina…!" Emma ran, darting around the door to catch her. Regina sobbed hard, choking on her breath as she slumped forward onto Emma's shoulders. "Shh, I've got you." The blonde tried soothing her quickly. "We have to run now, okay? Get up—"

"He—" Regina sputtered for a moment, squeezing Emma around her shoulders so tightly that it hurt. "He cut my hair, Emma—" Another sob lurched out from behind her painful admission. "He cut my hair…."

Emma stopped and ran a hand up along Regina's back, feeling nothing but the fabric of her shirt. It wasn't until she reached the base of the other woman's neck that she felt the sheared ends of her hair where it had been chopped off with a careless sort of malice.

Oh my God…

"Listen—" Emma pulled away, cupping each side of Regina's tear-streaked face. "Listen to me, we have to go. Move your feet."

Emma wasn't taking any chances that Jones would bring no further harm to either of them. He'd knocked Emma unconscious and ravaged this poor woman's lustrous mane of hair— no doubt an effort to alter her appearance. It had also occurred to her that he was more than likely the same driver who nearly chased them off the road back in Nebraska, so getting Regina as far away from him as possible was Emma's top priority. Jones had a fiery temper; this Emma knew all too well. He'd be pissed about having crashed twice while trying to turn in a bounty.

"Swan—!" A cough came from somewhere near the driver's side of the car and Robin's cracked and steaming radiator. Emma didn't bother to look back when she pulled hard at Regina's arm, getting her back onto her feet and into a run.

Once safely inside Emma's bug, she sped away from the danger as fast as its four-speed transmission could take them. The blonde still couldn't believe her luck, after everything that had happened and the insurmountable odds she had faced tearing her way across the entire country to capture this woman, here she'd done it a second time and out from the clutches of someone who she knew to be remarkably violent at the drop of a hat.

"Are you alright?" Regina asked from the passenger's seat, her voice shaky and wild.

Emma turned to look at her, amazed. "What the hell are you asking me if I'm alright for? I just pulled you from a truck sandwich!"

Regina didn't seem fazed. In fact, it seemed like the only thought in her head was of Emma's well-being. She leaned to get a better look at the red welt that sat on one of Emma's cheek bones. "He hit you so hard… Are you sure—"

"Listen to yourself!" Emma exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "You've been chased, kidnapped, handcuffed, assaulted, and that's all you've got to say? You're worried about me?!" She shook her head angrily as she jumped in and out of lanes of traffic toward the center of the city. "You know what, no… What the hell is the matter with you, huh? That's what I wanna know—" Emma was yelling now. "What in the actual fuck is so twisted about you that you'd be even remotely concerned about somebody like me?"

"I—" Regina fumbled for a moment, drawing her mouth open and shut in search of a response. "Is it so hard to believe that someone actually cares about you?" She fired back.

"Yes!" Emma screamed with tears in her eyes. A pitiful noise came out of her mouth then, threatening to fold her lower lip toward her chin. She wanted to cry. "You don't understand… It's just impossible." In a moment of desperation to make everything stop, Emma veered hard onto a side street and parked them in a narrow alley, giving the parking brake lever between the seats a frustrated yank. She worked hard to calm her rapid breaths and once she was able, she blinked through the burning of her eyes at the woman sitting beside her. "You're impossible." Emma repeated with a final sob.

Regina simply smiled and reached out to take the side of Emma's face into her hand, swiping away at the small rivers of tears that ran there with her thumb. "Emma Swan… You're an idiot."

The blonde laughed with a hiccup and then folded forward into a weeping mess, right into Regina's lap.

"I've got to put these back on. You understand, don't you?" Emma's words rang with a sorrowful tone.

Regina nodded affirmatively, her hair now just barely reaching the end of her chin as it swayed forward. With a bit of a fix, her new hair could suit her well. Regina was that "effortless" kind of beautiful that could put stars in Emma's eyes no matter what her hair looked like, or what she wore. Though from where Emma stood now, and the longer she took to look at her, the more that twisting guilt in her stomach threatened to travel upward. Emma realized that if she hadn't managed to take Regina back from Jones, that there was no telling what he might have been willing to do either to shut her up or to sneak her back into the city under Emma's nose.

But now there was nothing more she could do.

…Except for her job.

They stood outside the police station for a long while before Emma gathered herself. Neither of them spoke much, their overwhelming sense of relief seemingly filling the empty space between them. Regina appeared a bit more stolid and reserved somehow, as if she'd completely surrendered to the unknown fate ahead of her. Emma couldn't be sure, but a glimmer of sadness showed upon the other woman's face— but in the blink of an eye, it was gone again.

The sound of the cuffs clicking their mournful, metallic toothed song over Regina's wrists broke the silence between them. Emma apparently had a difficult time letting go of her hands, which were smooth like soapstone and unmarred by manual labor. The blonde lifted her sorrowful gaze back to the impossibly dark and beautiful eyes in front of her and fought against the ridiculous quiver of her chin that simply wouldn't leave her be. Damn it all if this woman didn't keep smiling at Emma like she'd never done a thing wrong in her life. It was so different from the scowl she'd seen up close so many days ago, as well as the haunting frown she'd laid awake at night thinking about before then… Emma couldn't help but to be rocked with awe every time Regina smiled. Why was it so much like witnessing magic?

"I'm sorry." Emma said for maybe the fifth time.

"It's alright. I want you to."

"Why?" Emma asked without a drop of hesitation. "I still don't get it."

Regina shrugged. "Because I know that you need to… because there's more than likely a very good reason why you would almost die for me. Twice." When Emma opened her mouth to explain, Regina lifted her hands to stop her. "Whatever it is, I know it's worth everything you did for me, and also everything you did because of me."

Emma knew just as well as Regina did that those were two distinctly different things. But she was right, there did happen to be a good reason.

His name was Henry.

"But before I go, I have to ask… How did you know where we would be when we crashed?"

Emma chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment before answering. "I told you." She leaned closer then to speak more privately in front of so many eyes, "I will always find you."

The blonde lit up with a warm feeling in her chest when Regina's eyes dropped to stare at her lips. To anyone else, they were two people sharing a private conversation. But to Emma, she was three heart beats away from closing the distance and kissing her again. Instead, she decided to leave her with something: A parting gift.

"Today is October the twenty-second."

Short, dark hair bounced with a curious quirk. "Is it?"

Emma nodded. "It's my birthday." Regina's mouth hung open then, apparently unsure of what to say next. "Now you know something about me."

It was a harmless confession, but the voice in the back of Emma's head erred on the side of caution, especially since Regina continued to stare at her like she did know her. She didn't. Emma had to look away. She couldn't risk anything else. Emma didn't quite understand how in such a short period of time she'd come to care for Regina as much as she did, but she figured it would take much longer still to find out why. Unfortunately, time was what she had now run out of. She was just supposed to drop her here and to move on. Why was it suddenly so difficult? It's not like she hadn't done it countless times before.

Without another word —damn the infernal things to begin with— Emma walked Regina to the front doors of the station, only stopping to pull her gently by the elbow just before they stepped inside.

"Whatever happens, I'll make sure you're safe."

"Don't worry, I'll be right here."

"Keep your head up, everything will be fine."

Emma couldn't decide on what to say as the seconds passed. Regina merely stared at her with a curious look as if studying her once again. Emma's floundering speechlessness continued, but where words failed, her hands spoke. With a quick look around them, she snuck a tender brush of her fingers against Regina's neck as she pinched the ends of her hair. It was all she could manage. Regina blinked warmly back at her, and then they stepped inside. In the end, Emma left her in the hands of Sugar Land police where she'd most likely be transferred to the city jail to await a court date. Deep down, Emma knew how long these things could take but she hoped that since it stood to be such a high-profile case, the system would put her through it all sooner rather than later. She'd known some people to wait years before their cases went to trial. Something uneasy stirred within the blonde's chest as she made her way back toward her yellow, banged up bug across the parking lot. Regina would be safe… wouldn't she? A whirling doubt slowly crept into her mind the further she got from the station. Oh, God… She thought. What if something does happen? All because I brought her back…?

Unable to fight off the feeling, Emma leaned out of the door of her car to hang her head and vomit. Her stomach long since empty, she wretched hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. That inevitable feeling of shame which had built little by little the closer they got to home only hit her like a freight train whenever she drove across town to collect her payment.

To lay eyes on Henry and to hear the sound of his muffled voice in her side, the smell of his hair, the squeeze of his arms… Oh, they were some of Emma's favorite feelings. It was like no time at all had passed. She'd traveled through hell and back, but now that she was home and able to hug her son again, she realized all of it had been worth it. She wouldn't have to leave again for a long time. Staying in one place would take some getting used to… but she'd do it. For him.

Henry bounced excitedly on his heels just across from the bar at Granny's diner as he squeezed Emma around her middle, only of course until two boys about his own age walked in the front door, bringing his gleeful celebration to a sudden "older boy" halt.

Emma thought to herself how cruel it was to watch Henry's childlike nature disappear right before her very eyes, which only made her want to cry again. Ruby appeared to have noticed the subtle change in her demeanor, being the perceptive empath that she was— almost as if she could sniff out the pain itself. The brunette tapped Emma's elbow when Henry's head was turned away from them, mouthing the words, "Are you okay?"

Emma shook her head "no", figuring it would be much harder to throw Ruby off the scent of her guilt rather than to just appease the woman. Ruby tugged her away from Henry then, suggesting with a low and friendly whisper that he go clean up his station and to get his things ready to go home. He grinned from ear to ear and stopped himself from skipping back into the kitchen. "Older boys" apparently don't skip.

It was all Emma could do to keep a straight face until Ruby dragged her down the long hall at the back of the diner and into the small office. Hitting her like a rogue wave, Emma broke her ironclad façade and threw her face into her hands, unable to stop the quiet weeping that poured there into them.

"Woah—" Ruby said as she bent to catch Emma's half-stumble forward. "Hey…" Getting a good look now at what was likely a noticeable bruise near her temple, Ruby frowned. "You're hurt again." Her voice rang with a subtle disappointment.

Emma dropped her hands back to her sides.

Oh…

She means on the outside.

"What happened to you? What's wrong?" Ruby asked, taking each of Emma's shoulders into her hands.

The blonde shrugged, throwing her eyes everywhere but at the woman in front of her. Emma reeled at the thought of lying to her, but maybe if she danced around the truth… maybe that would be good enough for now. Or maybe she would just break wide open and tell her everything.

"I've done something—" Emma choked.

"What kind of something?" The worried look upon Ruby's face grew more intense by the second.

"I—" Emma clenched her jaw, wincing at the sharp pain that shot there from her cheekbone. "To be honest, Red, I wouldn't even know where to begin. I'm…" She sighed tiredly then. "I'm just glad to be home."

Ruby's eyes fell to the side of Emma's face again. "Did she do that to you?"

Emma opened her mouth to answer and then stopped suddenly, befuddled for a second as to how Ruby knew that her skip trace had been a woman and not a man. "How—"

"It's all over the news. There are protests downtown and everything, it's been crazy." Ruby explained as she shifted on her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. "So?" She asked, gesturing again with her eyes at the purplish welt on Emma's cheek.

The blonde gave a long breath of a sigh, shaking her head. "Killian."

A gasp fell out of the waitress as her hand immediately went to tilt Emma's head to the side by her chin. "Your ex? The crazy one? Holy shit, Emma… I thought you said he moved back to London?"

"He did. Erm- well, I thought he did? I hadn't seen him in a few years, so I figured he finally gave up."

Ruby clicked her tongue with a little stamp of her foot. "I knew he wouldn't just up and leave after stalking you for so long, not even after Granny took a shot at him with the rock salt—"

"Granny did what?" Emma snatched Ruby's hand, moving it away from her face.

The younger woman paused, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. "Um, yeah- but it's not like you can arrest her, so…" Her grin turned a shade wolfish then as she leaned further into Emma's space to peck a gentle kiss onto her opposite, untouched cheek. Emma pulled back as Ruby went for a second and then reactively cast her eyes down to the floor without a word.

She felt sick again.

Ruby took a step backward and folded her hands together apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" She shook her head. "I'm just glad you're alright."

Emma nodded at her then with an attempt to smile. "Still gettin' used to that." It seemed that the filter between her shattered heart and her mouth was still on the fritz.

"What?" Ruby tilted her head. "You mean people caring about you?" The blonde shrugged again, which prompted Ruby to return a step forward. "When are you gonna realize, Swan?"

"What do you mean?"

"…We've always cared about you."

"Mom?" Henry asked from across the table with a full cheek resembling a chipmunk.

"Yeah, kid…" Emma replied, flipping through a stack of bills to see which were most recent.

"If you're in love with my dad, then why isn't he here with us?"

Yep. Add emotional whiplash to her long list of aches and pains.

Emma tried hard not to let her reaction outweigh her concern and placed the envelopes in her hands down upon the table top calmly. Henry merely took another bite of his cereal and waited patiently for her to answer.

"Okay…" She took a deep breath through her nose and let it go with a five count. "First, I need you to know that I'm not in love with your father. Not anymore."

"Dad" was a word that Emma had always shied away from when getting anywhere near these kinds of conversations with her son. It didn't feel fair to him… Or to her.

"How come?"

"I—" Emma billowed a bewildered breath. "It just happens, Henry. I don't know."

"Are you lying to me?" He asked, squinting his eyes at her.

Emma gulped past the knot that formed in her throat. It hadn't exactly been a lie, no. But it wasn't the whole truth either. She thought hard for a moment longer about how to navigate the rest of Henry's questions in a way that wouldn't leave him bitter or resentful… or confused. He was so young and curious, her heart ached for him.

"No, I'm not lying to you. People do fall out of love. But your father… he did something that hurt me." Emma frowned when Henry's eyes darted to the bruise on her cheek. "Not like that, don't worry. Just… in here." She pointed at her chest then.

"I'm not ten anymore, mom." Henry deadpanned. "He broke your heart?"

Emma sighed, slowly this time. "Yes."

"Was he a bad man?"

She shook her head immediately. "No… we were just—" God, she'd give anything to save this conversation for a time when the dull ache behind her eyes wasn't seeking to split her head in half. "We were young, and we both made lots of bad decisions. Being together wasn't something we could do. But at least I got you out of it… You were the one good thing that came from loving him."

Henry blinked down at his cereal, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. It seemed that he was all out of questions, for now at least. After downing the last of his milk, Henry pushed his chair away from the table and walked to drop his bowl into the sink. "Will you take me to school in the morning?" He asked, stopping on his way back to place a kiss on her cheek.

"Sure thing, kid."

Emma ruffled his brown mop of hair and went to reach for a pinch at the round of his cheek when he smiled, but he ducked playfully out of the way with his best kung-fu move before turning on his heels and running up to the third floor of their old heritage style home. She admired her son's habit of being quick to play around and hoped that he'd retain some semblance of that silly streak which ran a country mile wide as he got older. How in the hell had he grown so fast without her knowing? It didn't seem fair.

Deciding to leave the stack of bills until morning, Emma lumbered each of her legs up the stairs to the second floor of the house, wanting nothing more than to fall face first onto her bed and to sleep for a hundred years. She landed with a happy bounce against her mattress and laid there for a while, letting the heavy feeling in her arms and legs sink in. She tried to shift, but her jacket restricted her arms in a way that was too uncomfortable to continue laying in. She'd forgotten that she was even wearing it. With a groan, Emma wriggled out of one sleeve and then the other when a faint crumpling sort of noise came from one of the pockets. Unaware of what was still in it, she dug her hand inside and pulled out the forgotten, glossy three by five photo of Regina.

Suddenly Emma lay very still, hypnotized again by the sight of her. Strangely enough, the expression on Regina's face in the picture appeared differently to her now after having spent some time being so near it. After hearing her speak… Hearing her laugh...

Hearing her moan…

The back of Emma's neck lit up with rapid sparks and she felt herself begin to sweat there. Then her mouth began to water, and her stomach twisted into a pretzel.

Scrambling to pull herself from her bed and to make her way into the bathroom, Emma hung her head over the toilet just in time and puked her guts up. Once she was done, a heavy blanket of anxiety fell over her and pulled her down toward the cold, tiled floor. Emma's mind whirled, clouded with a thick guilt that hardly left room enough for anything else. She knew deep down that Regina Mills was no killer, yet she'd fed her to the sharks anyway…

For what? Money?

That was her job. Wasn't it?

"Oh my God…" Emma muttered, slumping over to hug her knees and cry. "I've made a huge mistake."