Chapter Text
May 2016
There were one thousand, three hundred and fifty-six scratches etched into the wall by Regina’s bed. She knew this because during the year and a half she had been a prisoner in the cell beneath the hospital basement; she had counted each one of them.
She wasn’t certain what made her decide to count them. Surely, even being as isolated as she was in the tiny cell, she wasn’t that bored.
Nobody was that bored.
Besides, it wasn’t as though she lacked for company, what with daily visits from Henry and the constant noise from the demons in her head. There was no logical reason for her to count those scratches, but count them she did.
Sixteen times.
Part of her knew the truth; that it was the horror of the realization that Belle had etched each one of those markings to mark the passage of the days of her imprisonment before she finally gave up thirteen hundred days after her arrival in Storybrooke that compelled her actions. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could think to do to honor the struggle of one of her victims.
And so she counted.
Once a week, like clockwork, since the day she had started.
The first time she counted, it had taken her a full day, a day in which she ignored Henry in her determination not to lose her place, as he watched her with concern in his eyes. Now, she accomplished the task in a manner of hours.
In the beginning, when she counted, she believed she could feel hope reignite inside of her. Belle had spent twenty-eight years inside this tiny room and she had emerged with her sanity mostly intact. Perhaps she would, as well.
Deep down, though, she knew she was nothing like Belle, who was a good person, despite everything she had suffered. She had had no one during her imprisonment; in fact, no one even remembered she existed save for the woman that kept her prisoner and a man who believed her to be dead.
Belle had deserved her freedom. Regina did not.
Either way, it didn’t really matter because it was all about to end. Eighteen months locked away as though her life meant nothing, patiently waiting for her day in court, and it had all been for naught.
Until two days ago, she had allowed herself to believe that maybe when she got a chance to say her piece, they would understand. Even if she couldn’t get through to anyone else in town, maybe she could reach the only two people that mattered.
Maybe Henry, who was loyal to the point of being blind to her flaws, could look at her and finally really see that she had once been someone else.
Maybe Emma would come home.
But no. They had won, after all.
Snow, Charming, all the people whose lives she had destroyed.
Even Rumpelstiltskin, who wasn’t getting what he really wanted, but who would live to see Regina die.
After everything he had done; the curse he had created, the threat he presented even now, he would get to live.
It hardly seemed fair.
Her lips curled up automatically in a smile when she heard the door latch click open. She had an almost Pavlovian reaction to that sound these days, as it signified the only break in the monotony of her existence. She even received her meals through a slot in the door, so that no one would have to see her or talk to her. But each day, no matter what, the door swung open to reveal an indifferent-looking Nurse Ratched leading her son in to see her.
If that wasn’t worthy of a smile, what was?
Today, especially, she needed to see him. She needed to say goodbye, even if he would refuse to hear it and would beg her to change her mind, just as he had when he had visited her the day before yesterday.
“Hi Mom.”
She pretended not to notice how his voice cracked when he said it, as she stepped out of his embrace to drink him in.
At age fifteen, he had finally shed some of the awkwardness that made his features seem slightly too large for his face. He had always been a handsome boy, but to Regina these days, he looked absolutely perfect.
“Hello, Henry.” She smiled at him and motioned to the chair that was the only piece of furniture in her cell other than her bed and the small toilet in the corner. He, too, pretended not to notice the slight tremble in her hands as she pointed to the chair or the tremor in her voice when she said his name.
“I’m really glad you came to see me.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
He hadn’t come the day before, but it didn’t seem prudent to point it out. After their fight where he had begged her to change her mind about what she had agreed to do, she had worried that she would not see him again. Still, she didn’t want to waste what little time she had left with him arguing about it.
“I’m glad you did,” she repeated instead.
He shot a cautious smile her way as he glanced at the chair and sat down beside her on the bed instead. “I hate what you’re doing, Mom, but I would never let you go without saying goodbye.”
Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized his words as acceptance of her decision. Had part of her been hoping he would try one last time to change her mind? She hoped not, but suspected that might actually be the case.
“You should have let me kill him!”
The words burst out of him, chilling her to the bone. If Henry had gone after Rumpelstiltskin as he had wanted to, it would be his funeral they had to plan instead of her own. She was as sure of that as she was that this was the right thing to do.
Rumple had been as dangerous an enemy as she had suspected all along. He had discovered her biggest secret and used it against the town, cementing her in their eyes as the monster they had always believed her to be.
And because of that, tonight would be the last night of her life. In eighteen hours, she would finally die for her mistakes.
So much had happened since the night she had broken the curse. Her eyes filled as she thought back to a time in her life when she believed the future was bright and filled with love. Nothing, not even the knowledge that her fate rested in the hands of Snow White, could dim the joy she had felt that night.
-----------------------------------
November, 2014
“You told me in your last letter that I am worthy of love. Do you remember?”
Regina nodded. “I remember.”
“Well, you are too, Regina. Don’t forget that. I’m not giving up on us.”
Regina leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for understanding why I need to do this.”
It wasn’t a surprise to her when Emma followed them to the Sheriff's office, nor could she hide her beam of pride when her…girlfriend? Was that the right term?... pulled the star from the drawer and pinned it to her chest, despite the looks of surprise and displeasure from her parents.
They placed her in the jail cell unceremoniously and she listened silently as they argued about what they were going to do with her.
“There is no secure correctional facility here in Storybrooke,” Snow pointed out. “And it’s not like we can send her to a state prison. Not without a conviction, anyway.”
She tried to hide her shudder at the thought of being trapped in prison with other felons. As terrible as it would be to be locked up, being at the mercy of other criminals in a state-run facility sounded damn near impossible. She hid her horror at the thought, reminding herself of her promise that she would abide by their wishes.
“Besides, we don’t know if her magic will return or if she will keep her powers outside the town line. We don’t know anything, really,” David added.
“Then she stays here, in the jail cell. I can watch her.”
Regina could see that they didn’t like Emma’s idea at all, and she had to admit she understood why. Storybrooke’s tiny jail was hardly the most secure place for a prisoner as potentially dangerous as she was.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Emma. She built this town. She probably knows how to break out whenever she wants to.”
‘They’re not wrong about that,’ Regina thought, amused despite herself.
“May I make a suggestion?” she asked, before the idea of looking beyond Storybrooke’s borders for a solution could come up again. They turned to her, the interest on their faces warring with mistrust. Emma alone seemed happy as she spoke up, but that faded once she described the prison beneath the hospital.
“I don’t like that idea,” she protested. Her parents ignored her, as Regina knew they would. They were too smart not to seize this as a solution. Paying them no attention, she turned to Emma.
“What’s troubling you?”
“I don’t want you to be alone. Can’t she just stay here?” she asked, turning to her parents. “If she wanted to escape, she wouldn’t have let you take her in the first place.”
“Listen to me, Emma. A bit of isolation will do me some good. It will give me a chance to think and besides. It is not as if I don’t deserve it.”
Snow and Charming nodded in agreement, but Emma still looked upset. “You don’t deserve to be put in isolation. No one does.”
Regina knew she was thinking of her own time in prison and knew she had to tread carefully. Ignoring Snow and Charming for the moment, she focused on Emma and put all the love she could muster into her steady gaze. “We could argue for the rest of time about what I deserve, but it won’t change anything. I will be ok in there while we get this sorted out. It won’t be for long.”
“I hate the idea that you are punishing yourself like this,” Emma muttered. “Yes, you did awful things, but they’re in the past. You’re different now.”
The notion that she could leave her life as the Evil Queen in the past, where Emma seemed to think it belonged, sounded heavenly and impossible at the same time. “It is because I am different now that I can see that this is the right thing to do.”
Emma looked into her eyes for a long moment, then at last nodded her agreement. “All right. But you won’t be alone. The kid and I will visit you every day.”
“And I look forward to each and every one of those visits.”
Emma looked at her lips longingly and Regina knew what she was thinking. If her parents weren’t there, she would kiss her.
‘Damn you, Snow White,’ she thought. She chuckled slightly and stood up from the thin mattress in the cell. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”
Emma unlocked the cell and put the cuffs back on her wrists with an apologetic smile. Deciding she didn’t care what the Charmings saw, Regina reached her bound hands up and touched Emma’s cheek before pressing her lips to hers in a quick kiss. Emma jumped slightly in surprise before responding in kind.
Her body reacted instantly to Emma’s presence. Uncomfortable as she was in her handcuffs and as awkward as it was embracing Emma in front of her worst enemies, she couldn’t keep the longing from her face as she pulled away. Looking at Emma, it was clear she felt the same way.
“Every day, Regina.”
She stood on her tiptoes for one last kiss before they dragged her away.
“I know.”
----------------------------------------
May, 2016
“Mom?”
She pulled her thoughts back to the present and squeezed his hand. “Do you remember the night we decided to try to break the curse together? When you asked me if I thought we should just leave well enough alone?”
He nodded mutely, thinking back to it.
“We’re going to do this, Henry and we are going to do it for the only reason that matters. Because it is the right thing to do.”
“I don’t want you to die!”
It was the same thing he had said that night. The difference was that back then, she hadn’t wanted to die either. That wasn’t the case anymore.
“Some things are too big to come back from, Henry. The price is too great.”
“But why does the price have to be your life?”
She could have answered him, could have reminded him of all the lives she had taken, but knew it wasn’t what he needed from her. Instead, she drew him into her arms and held him tight as he cried.
When his sobs subsided at last, she pulled back and put a finger under his chin, forcing him to look at her. This was important.
“When you leave here, you get on a bus and go straight to Emma’s apartment in Boston and stay there until this is over. Do you understand me?”
“What? Why?”
Regina shook her head in response, unwilling to discuss it. She was strong enough to combat the threat against the town. She was certain of it, but she wouldn’t take a chance with Henry’s life, no matter how sure she was.
“This isn’t negotiable, Henry. Call it my dying wish, if you must. But promise me you won’t be here when this happens.”
He winced at her statement, but nodded his agreement. “I actually just came from there.”
She stared at him in bewilderment. He had just been to see her less than forty-eight hours earlier. When had he found time to go to Boston?
Seeing the confusion on her face, he clarified. “After I left here. After we…”
“Fought,” she supplied.
“Yes, that,” he agreed. “I told Grandma that I was going to spend the night at Nick’s house and went to Boston.”
“Did you tell her about this?”
What had she thought of it? Was Emma on her way, even now? Her heart fluttered at the thought, despite her best attempt at looking unaffected.
“No,” he said. “I didn’t think you would want me to.”
She nodded slowly, trying not to give in to the wave of disappointment that rose inside of her. Forty-eight hours ago, she had been certain that going to her death without seeing Emma again was the right thing to do. But as the seconds ticked ever closer to when she would meet her demise, she became less and less certain.
“Why did you go, then?”
“To bring you this.”
He held out a box that had gone unnoticed until that moment. Instantly, her mind flew back to the night she realized he had figured out her secret. She had expected her world to end that night, but instead he had given her the greatest gift imaginable. Not the gift of forgiveness, as she had once dared to dream of; that had come later, but the gift of understanding. He had listened, and the bond between them cemented into something unbreakable.
Unlike the impeccably polished silver box he had found in her vault, this one was made of wood. Dented and damaged, it reminded Regina so much of the one she had lost that she knew instinctively that it could only belong to one person.
“What’s this?”
“Mom. Come on. You know what it is.”
Unbidden, her hand raised up to take it from him, as she stared at him with eyes wide with wonder.
“Did you really think Emma was just throwing your letters away?” he asked gently. She swallowed hard against the sob that rose in her throat as she caressed the box softly. Unable to think of what to say, she sat silently, mind already dreaming about what secrets lay inside.
It had been so long since she had seen the familiar scrawl on the always slightly crumpled pages Emma sent her. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was tear into this box and drink in every word.
“Why have you brought this to me?”
He laughed as he stood up. “Eighteen months ago, you asked me to go live with Emma and forget about you. Instead, I brought her your letters and asked her to read them and she brought me home to wake you up so you could break the curse.”
He bent to kiss her cheek and prepared to leave. “Now, I am giving you the same chance I gave her. Read these tonight and I’ll come see you first thing in the morning, when there are still a few hours left on the trigger. If you still want me to go, I promise I will. But if you don’t, I swear to you we will find another way.”
She observed him as he prepared to leave, still unable to say a word. “Read what she has to say, Mom. You deserve it.”