Emma held her close, unsure what to do as Regina's body shook with tears, silent, streaming down her face and into Emma's shirt.
"It'll be okay,"Emma whispered against dark hair.
Regina tightened her grip on her. She raised her bowed head to look into Emma's eyes, her own bloodshot and puffy with tears.
"Did you know?" Regina asked, her voice rough from crying.
"No," Emma shook her head, she held on to Regina's shoulders tightly, "I didn't know, I came to stop you,"
Cora's body was still there, and both women turned to look at her, lying perfectly still on the marble floor of Regina's living room. Shuffling a little away from Emma, Regina reached forward and took her mother's hand, a soft sob escaping her lips as she did.
"She's dead,"
"I'm sorry," Emma said, though, what she was sorry for, she wasn't sure herself.
"I killed my mother," Regina spoke to no one in particular, her eyes trained on Cora's face, "I killed my father, and now my mother, I.."
"Regina," Emma pulled at her, so she spun around and faced her, "You didn't know the heart was poisoned, you didn't know she would die, you were trying to do the right thing,"
"I only wanted her to love me," Regina admitted quietly, she wiped at her cheeks, though it was rather pointless, as more tears ran from her dark eyes, down her cheeks and onto her neck and chest.
"And your mother–" Regina began, words cutting through the still room like knives, she was interrupted, to Emma's relief by soft footsteps echoing in the corridor.
Emma and Regina's eyes met as the latter fell quiet, but they had no time to react before Henry walked in. The boy glanced between his mothers' still figures, kneeling on the ground, and Cora, lying lifeless next to them. He took a step into the room.
"Mom?" He asked, his eyes on Regina.
She swallowed hard, clearly fighting back tears,
"Henry," she said, and he went to her, sinking to the floor by her side, he stared at Cora.
"Is she…?" He didn't finish his question, reaching forward he placed one hand on her chest, then pulled away as if electrocuted, he turned back to Regina.
"She's dead, sweetheart," Regina said, her voice cracking as she took Henry's hand. He pulled away, his dark eyes widening.
"Did you kill her?" His voice was harsh, accusing.
Regina blinked, flinching away from him as if she'd been burned. She turned to Emma, meeting her gaze, the vulnerability there took Emma's breath away, Regina was pleading, begging, for her help. All without saying a word.
"I…" Regina started,as Henry rose, pulling further away from her.
Reaching up, Emma took his arm, stopping his retreat, he met her gaze. The fear she saw flash behind his brown eyes unsettled her, Henry had never been afraid, not of his mother.
"Your mom didn't kill her, kid," Emma explained, "It was…an accident,"
She felt Regina bristle slightly at the wording, but she wasn't about to explain what had truly happened to a traumatized little boy.
"An accident?" He asked,
"That's right," Regina said, "It's no one's fault," the sharp undercurrent in her voice was not lost on Emma, but Henry didn't seem to notice.
Sitting back down next to Cora, he looked down at her, his eyes darting away from the dead woman he focused on his mother instead,
"Mom, are you okay?"
Regina took his hand again, and he didn't pull away, "I will be," she whispered, and for some reason, the words sent a chill down Emma's spine.
Henry pulled his mother into a hug, his thin arms wrapping around her shoulders, their dark hair mixing as their heads met, forehead to forehead. Emma was forced to pull away from Regina, she folded her hands awkwardly in her lap, watching the two.
Cupping his face with one hand, Regina pressed a kiss to his cheek, she sniffled softly,"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I love you so much,"
"I know," he said, and the words reverberated through the quiet room, "I love you too,"
"Things will get better, sweetheart, I promise,"
Henry had begun to cry, his tears loud as he sniffled against his hand, Regina stroked his hair, kissing the top of his head.
"I promise, everything will go back to normal soon,"
Henry nodded, unable to speak through his tears, and his mother held onto him tightly.
The moment didn't last long, as Regina, with evident effort, wiped her tears away and rose, she helped their son to his feet and Emma stood with them.
"I will call the funeral services," she said, "They'll take the body," she didn't glance back at her mother, "Henry, why don't you get some breakfast," she looked down at her wristwatch, "and you're still in time for school,"
"You want him to go to school?" Emma asked, her slight bewilderment evident in her voice. Regina glanced at her, business as usual her eyes said, the only trace of her grief were the tear tracks on her cheeks.
"Of course, he's not going to miss another day,"
Emma flinched slightly at the accusation in her tone.
"Right," She said, "Sorry I didn't want him at his mother's murder trial, I guess," she replied sharply, regretting the words as soon as they left her lips.
Regina's jaw tightened noticeably, and her back straightened, she turned to Henry,
"Sweetheart, will you go get changed please?"
He obeyed silently, sparing them both a glance before heading upstairs.
Rounding on her as soon as Henry was out of sight, Regina's features twisted in pure anger, "You–" she started.
Emma interrupted her with a hand on her arm,
"Regina, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken him to New York, especially without telling you,"
All the fight left the mayor, her anger sliding away, she sagged slightly against Emma, taking a shaky breath.
"I don't want to fight," Emma continued, "You didn't kill Archie, and I should have believed you when you told me," she sighed, rubbing Regina's arm abstractedly, "I just–"
"I know, Emma," Regina said, her voice low and hoarse, "I know who I am," her voice was hard as she acknowledged her past.
Pulling away from Emma and standing up straight, she spoke quietly, evenly.
"I had better call the funeral home, we can't keep her here," she glanced at her mother's corpse.
"I'll call, if you want," Emma offered, her fingers still gripping Regina's upper arm.
"No," she said, "thank you, please get Henry to school,"
Emma was about to protest, the boy had been through too much, meeting his father, finding out his mother had been sentenced to death, meeting his grandmother and seeing her dead body. It was too much for a little boy of ten. Her heart tightened in her chest, but Regina spoke before she could say anything,"He needs some normalcy, Emma, and I need…" she sighed, pushing a lock of dark hair out of her face, "Time, I need time,"
For some reason, Regina's words rang false in Emma's ears, and she studied her face carefully, she hadn't known the woman for very long, truth be told.Yet she had learnt to read her surprisingly fast, and all the grief she'd seen in her features moments before had melted away, leaving an impassive, cold expression that froze Emma's blood in her veins. Beneath the stoic facade, Emma could clearly see what had never been there before, not in Emma's presence at least, the image of the woman who'd terrified thousands, the image of the ruthless killer the town trembled under. Rage and bloodlust mixed in flashing dark eyes.
Regina held Emma's gaze, her lips twisted in something that almost resembled a smile.
The front door closed softly, causing both of them to tear their eyes away from each other, looking in the direction of the sound, through the open living room door.
"Emma?" Snow's voice was quiet, but it rang through the silent house like a bullet.
Regina smiled. A terrifying, murderous, smile.
Emma, who should have probably gotten there sooner, understood. She swallowed and her teeth clenched.
Snow appeared in the doorframe, she held a sword in one hand, the naked blade glinting silver in a sliver of light from the window.
Regina stepped forward, her teeth bared in what no longer resembled a smile,
"Do you really think that will protect you?" She asked, gesturing towards the sword.
Snow held it up, she was breathing hard, as if she'd been running, her blue eyes terrified, yet she reminded still, feet planted firmly on the ground.
"I won't let you hurt my daughter,"
Regina laughed, a sound Emma had never heard, mad, insane, laughter.
"It's not her I want to hurt, dear Snow," she stopped forward, "And thank you," she said, still looking at Snow, "For offering yourself up to me, I have grown rather tired of running after you,"
"Regina," Emma found her voice, but the other woman did not so much as glance at her, dark eyes trained on Snow White, hungry, predatory.
"Emma, let's go," Mary Margaret ordered.
"You're not going anywhere," Regina said, her hands splayed next to her, fire appearing in it, burning so hot Emma could feel it singe the hairs on her arm from just behind Regina.
"You poisoned my mother's heart,"
"It had to be done, she was a menace, you know that," Snow replied, she was looking at Emma, never taking her eyes off her daughter.
"You made me kill my mother,"
"You killed your father," Snow responded without missing a beat, "How's this any different?"
The words clearly struck a chord, because Regina took a breath, stepping further towards Snow, she raised her hand,"Are those your last words, Snow White?" she asked.
Emma grabbed Regina's arm, using it as leverage to spin herself in front of her, the fireball burning her, she hissed in silent pain, doing her best to ignore it, she came face to face with the other woman, meeting dark, mad, eyes.
"Don't," Emma said simply.
"Get out of my way," Regina said, her fire still burning hot.
"Emma, don't!" Her mother's panic was obvious in her voice, but Emma didn't turn to her.
"No," Emma leaned even closer to Regina, so that their faces were inches apart, "Regina, please, she's my mom," the words slipped out of her, cracking her voice as they did, "I just found her," tears threatened to spill from Emma's eyes, she blinked them back with difficulty.
"Please," Emma said again, "I'm mad at her too, okay? But you can't kill her,"
For the briefest moment Emma wondered how she'd gone from an ex-criminal orphan to begging her son's mother for her own mother's life.
Regina glanced behind her, at Snow, and then back at Emma. Her expression softened slightly.
"Emma…" she said, and the word fluttered over Emma's skin, their lips so close they were almost touching.
"Regina,"
The sound of someone running down the stairs made Regina step away from her, the fire in her palm dying out. She glared at Snow for a moment,"Get out," she ordered.
Mary Margaret glanced down at Cora's corpse for the first time, her eyes filling with something akin to regret.
"I'm sorry, Regina," she whispered, "I know what it's like to lose a mother."
Her eyes met Emma's, and she saw the silent question in them, she shook her head, mouthing at her to go.
Henry stopped behind her, "Grandma?"
Snow turned to face him, "Hi, Henry," she said, "Are you going to school?" The words, juxtaposed with her rather large sword, still gripped in her hands, were almost absurd. Henry stared at her, he wore his black and red school uniform.
"Uh, yeah," he said, looking behind her at his mothers, and his grandmother's body.
"Why don't I take you?" Snow asked, sparing a glance at Emma, who nodded her agreement.
Regina said nothing, watching the two of them walk away, Snow's sword hung by her side.
—-
Regina watched the woman who'd destroyed her life walk away with Henry. Snow's hand went to his shoulder, as she said something to him he turned, and Regina could see his smile on his profile.
Hot tears bubbled to her eyes again, and she turned away from the scene, her gaze landing on her mother's body, heart tightening in her chest painfully at the sight.
All she wanted was to fall to her knees again, cry and sob and tear her hair out of her head. All she wanted was to hurt, to kill, to maim. She wanted to rip Snow's heart out and crush it into dust, to watch the life leave the stupid girl's eyes.
And yet, she was not stupid, she had been more ruthless than Regina had believed she could be. Never would she have believed Snow capable of tricking her into such a macabre act. That was why she had fallen for it so easily, never once questioning Snow's motives.
And now, Emma, who stood next to her, watching her like a hawk, as if waiting for her to fall apart, had taken her revenge from her. Snow had presented herself on a silver platter, only a sword in her hand, in Regina's own house. And it would have been so easy, so simple, to destroy her, to kill her, to snuff out the detestable woman once and for all. But Emma's words had stopped her.
'Please, she's my mom'
The words echoed in her mind. Why had she cared? Why had she stopped?
Regina met Emma's green gaze, and her heart did a backflip in her chest. For some reason, the idea of hurting this woman, of seeing her in pain, was too much to bear.
With a sigh, she walked out, hearing Emma follow her. She picked up the telephone hanging in her hallway wall and punched in the number, she knew it by heart, like most other numbers in this town.
The man picked up after one ring, Regina recognized his low, baritone voice from before. She wondered if she should call him by his real name or the one she'd picked for him in this world. She decided on the former.
"Count," she said, "I'm in need of your services."
"Your Majesty," he answered, and was it her imagination, or was there a tinge of anger in his voice? Had she any friends left? "What can I do for you?"
"It's.." she sighed, this wasn't the usual, "My mother, she has…joined the land of the dead."
She saw Emma's eyebrows rise at the wording, and shrugged at her.
"I see," the Count said, "Well my condolences,or congratulations."
Regina let out a soft laugh, "Thank you, will you come take her?"
"I will send one of my assistants straight away," he said, and she glanced out the window, indeed it was midmorning, and the sun shone through the glass, in the confusion she'd lost track of time.
"Thank you," she said again, "I want a proper funeral for her, I trust I can leave it in your capable hands? As you know, money is no object," she surprised herself with how even her voice was, all staccato business.
Emma squeezed her hand unexpectedly, and Regina glanced at her, before turning back to her call.
"Of course Your Majesty, your wish is my command," the Count answered, "leave it to me."
Regina put down the phone, slipping her hand out of Emma's, she headed into the kitchen.
"Coffee?" She asked the blonde who'd followed her.
"Sure," Emma answered, and Regina put the machine on.
"Regina," Emma said, walking closer to her, "Are you okay?"
"Fine," she answered, and it was true. Her mother was gone, yes, and she'd killed her. But things were easier now. There was a reason she'd wanted her mother dead, she could do without her meddling.
"Are you sure? You–"
"Emma," Regina turned sharply to her, "I said I'm fine,"
She poured them both coffee, the aroma enough to pick her up a little after her multiple sleepless nights. She sat across from Emma and sipped at the scalding hot liquid.
"I hear Henry's father is in town," she said after a moment of silence.
Emma coughed into her mug, her cheeks slightly red.
Regina's mind turned involuntarily back to their kiss in the enchanted forest, to the way Emma reacted to her presence, to the obvious attraction the younger woman felt for her, to the way their lips had almost touched as Emma begged her for Snow's life. She bit her lower lip. None of it meant anything of course, perhaps Emma had had a bit of a crush on her, which surely had been wiped away by what she'd seen earlier.
Emma had seen her, truly seen her, seen the madness filter through the carefully curated Mayor's exterior, she could no longer pretend the Evil Queen was not a part of her, of Regina.
And, anyway, they were mortal enemies, Regina had tried multiple times to kill her, and her parents. Emma, for her part, had done her best to take Henry away from her, something Regina wouldn't soon forget.
There could never be anything between them. Not ever.
Regina cursed herself for the slight disappointment she felt at the thought. She forced herself back to the conversation, tuning back into Emma's words.
"...So he decided to come back with us," she finished.
"I was surprised to hear he's Rumplestiltskin's son," Regina commented, unsure what the rest of Emma's speech was about.
"Don't tell me," Emma growled, her eyebrows furrowing as she stared into her coffee.
Regina's own eyebrows rose, "You didn't know."
Emma shrugged, "No, I didn't, he never bothered to mention he's almost three hundred years old, or that he comes from.." she sighed and waved her hands around, "Fairytale land, or whatever."
"So, you're not happy to have him back in your life?" Regina asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
"Happy? The man abandoned me to be arrested in his place, he abandoned his son!"
"He didn't know about his son," Regina pointed out. Emma glared daggers at her.
"Who's side are you on?" She asked.
"No one's, dear, but my own," Regina replied smoothly, her tongue darting out to lick her lower lip. She watched Emma follow the movement, eyes glued to her lips. Something stirred in her lower belly.
A sharp knock at the door made them both jump, and Regina hurried out to answer it.
The boy was no more than seventeen, with sharp blue eyes,messy blonde hair and skin as pale and fair as paper. He let himself in without much fanfare, asking Regina where the body was.
She showed him to it, trying to avoid looking at it too long. She had seen many dead bodies in her time, too many to count, but somehow, this particular one was rather more upsetting than usual.
Emma stood next to her, as the boy instructed two other men, they put her on a stretcher, then covered her with a white sheet.
The boy stopped to talk to them as the men carried her out.
"M'am," he said, inclining his head, "Master wants to know when's the funeral to be."
"How soon can you do it?" Regina asked.
"Soon as you like, M'am."
"Tomorrow?"
"Might be a bit expensive," the boy said, scrunching his eyes.
"Money's no object," Regina repeated.
The boy nodded, his hair flying into his eyes, he swept it away, "Tomorrow it is, m'am, shall we bury her with your father, m'am?"
Regina took a shaky breath, and Emma's rough fingers wrapped around her wrist, she focused on the sensation as she answered,"Yes, fine."
He nodded again, then followed the other men out.
Emma's hand tightened around her arm, then slipped down and took her hand.
—--
Emma had left Regina to her own devices a few hours after the strange men and the boy, who had looked a little too alive to Emma, had taken Cora's body away.
Both of them had been falling asleep on the sofa, coming from several days of sleepless nights, but to mention the accumulated stress and fatigue from everything that had happened before that.
She had gone home, pointedly ignored her mother's presence, and her pleas to talk fell on deaf ears, as Emma made her way up to her room and fell into her bed.
She woke up for dinner. Walking downstairs she followed her nose to the smell of something cooking.
Her mother and father were standing at the kitchen island, busying themselves with dinner.
Emma looked around the small loft.
"Where's Henry?"
"I went to pick him up after school, but Regina had already taken him home," Mary Margaret replied without looking up from the pan.
"Oh," Emma said, "Good," she let herself fall onto one of the chairs.
"Emma…" Mary Margaret started, but Emma interrupted her.
"I don't want to hear it, Regina's his mother."
Snow didn't argue, she set the table and served Emma part of an omelet.
"Thanks," Emma said, her mouth already full,
"The funeral's tomorrow."
Mary Margaret sat, taking a shaky breath as she did, "Oh, good," she said.
Emma opened her mouth to say something, but her father stopped her, speaking over her, his green eyes piercing into hers.
"Your mother is already upset about what happened, but, Emma, it needed to be done."
"Did it need to be done like this?"
"Regina has put us through hell," David rose, his hands planted on the table, "I'm sorry she's hurt, but, frankly, this is the least she deserved."
Emma sighed, she passed a hand over her brow, pushing her hair back, "Alright, okay," she said, her palms up, "I'm going to the funeral tomorrow, I suggest you stay here."
Not that she'd imagined her parents had any desire to attend Cora's funeral, but better safe than sorry.
"Of course," Mary Margaret said, "and, Emma, thank you, you saved my life."
Emma shook her head, taking another bite, "I don't think she really would have killed you."
There was a long moment of silence, the sound of cutlery scraping across dinnerware filling the room.
"I think you underestimate her," Mary Margaret said, "You don't know her like we do, Emma, she has killed before, and all she's ever wanted was to hurt me."
"Yet you're fine," Emma argued.
"Because you stopped her," Snow bit her lip and looked away from Emma, "I don't know how, but you did."
Wiping her hands along her thighs, Emma avoided her mother's stare. How had she stopped Regina? Why had she stopped when Emma had asked her to? Why hadn't Emma been afraid of her?
Her thoughts ran back to the feeling of Regina's skin under her fingers, the way their hands had fit perfectly together, the spark of electricity that had gone through her as she'd stared into those dark eyes. Traitorously, her mind brought back memories of their kiss, on the hard ground of the enchanted forest, the feeling of Regina's lips on hers…
"I don't know," Emma said, "But I'm glad it worked."
She got up, "I'm going to bed."
—
The next morning, Emma dressed in a hurry, in her only black dress, and headed to the cemetary.
Letting the engine idle, she sat in her car and looked out over the silent graveyard, in the distance she could see Regina and Henry, they stood next to Henry Mills' mausoleum, someone else was there too, but Emma didn't recognize them from afar. She got out of the bug and walked down the dirt path to the gray building. As she neared, Regina turned to look at her, she met her gaze with a tight smile.
The man she'd seen was Mr.Gold, and Emma was surprised to see him there, he stood leaning on his cane, he nodded as she arrived,
"Ms. Swan," he greeted.
"Gold," she said, glancing at Regina, who stood rather far from him, she headed to the man.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, tone rather harder than she'd intended. Gold had given her mother Cora's poisoned heart, why was he attending the funeral of a woman he hated?
"Cora and I knew each other….well," Gold replied, looking over Emma's shoulder at Regina and Henry.
Emma heard the double-entendre in his voice and made a face.
"You killed your ex-lover?"
"I did not kill her, Ms. Swan, that was all your mother, and the Queen."
"She didn't know," Emma replied hotly, he arched an eyebrow in question, "Regina," Emma calrified.
"Interesting," he said.
"What?"
"That you defend her, but not your mother," Gold said smoothly, he smiled at her, and Emma clenched her jaw.
She was about to reply when the hearse arrived, the large black car parked and two men got out.
Emma went to stand next to Regina and Henry, one hand on her son's shoulder, the thick material of his black suit soft under her fingers. Before she could think too hard, her other hand slipped onto Regina's wrist, like it had done the day before, when they had taken Cora's body away. Regina didn't pull away, but her eyes stayed trained on the pallbearers, as they took the coffin out of the car and carried it slowly into the mausoleum.
They followed in solemn silence, watching as it was placed next to Henry Mills' casket.
Emma felt Regina shake slightly next to her, and turned to see silent tears running down her cheeks, she wiped them away quickly, and Emma slipped her fingers around her hand, squeezing lightly.
Dark, watery eyes met hers, and Emma gave her an encouraging smile, she felt Regina's fingers intertwine with hers. She ignored how that made her heart do a backflip in her chest.
The service didn't last long, and soon, the three of them walked out, into the warm sunshine, they made their way slowly down the dirt path towards the cars. Gold followed a little ways behind.
They walked in silence, and Emma enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her face, the smell of grass wafting in her nose,and for the first time since the curse had broken, she finally felt like things may actually turn out alright.
Glancing at the woman to her left, the feeling faded a little, her dark hair shone in the sunshine, and her eyes, so full of pain, were bright when they met Emma's. Her insides squirmed. How could a woman so cruel and dangerous be so…Emma couldn't find the word, her mind supplied several that she promptly rejected. Beautiful. Perfect. Incredible. Attractive.
She was saved from her inner turmoil by two figures walking towards them, Emma recognized Neal immediately, but couldn't place the woman next to him.
"Dad!" Henry exclaimed, pulling his hand out of his mother's, he ran towards Neal.
"Hey, kid!"
Emma and Regina reached them a moment later.
"Hello," Neal said, holding out his hand towards Regina, "I'm Neal."
She looked him up and down for a second, one eyebrow rising, then she took his hand gingerly.
"Baelfire," she said.
"It's just Neal here," his voice took on a sharp note.
"I see," Regina said.
"She's my mom," Henry explained, looking up at his father with wide, adoring eyes.
"Right," Neal said.
Emma studied the woman next to him, she was pretty, with dark skin and eyes, and black hair that almost reached her waist. Her eyes were sharp, and she studied Regina with a strange, hungry, gaze.
"Oh, right," Neal said, "This is Tamara," she stuck out her hand and Emma took it, shaking it.
"Tamara's my fiance," Neal explained.
Emma felt a rush of cold down her spine, but she managed to smile through it and nod, "Nice to meet you."
Out of the corner of her eye, Regina glanced at her.
"And you are?" Tamara asked as she shook Regina's hand.
"Regina, I'm the mayor."
"Oh," Tamara said, she glanced at Neal, "That means in the Enchanted Forest you were…." she faltered, clearly remembering who Regina was.
"The Evil Queen," Regina flashed a hungry smile, and Tamara's eyes widened in fear. Emma almost rolled her eyes.
"Welcome to Storybrooke," Regina said to the two, her smile softening, "What brings you to the cemetery?" She asked.
"We were looking for…" Neal didn't finish his sentence, "There he is," he pointed behind them, at Gold. "My father," he explained.
"Yes, I know him," Regina's voice filled with venom, "I hope you have a nice stay here," she said, "Come, Henry."
"Can I stay with my dad for a bit?" He asked.
Sighing, Regina looked to Emma, who shrugged.
"He can hang with us for a little," Neal said, his arm encircling their son's shoulder.
"Very well," Regina said, "Please have him home for dinner."
"Of course," Tamara said, flashing a smile.
--