Work Text:
Emma pulled off her beanie as she shut her front door with her foot, huffing a broken breath filled with all the exhaustion she had needed to keep in at the station because she didn’t want David going back to Snow and telling her mother that she hadn’t had that miracle mood improvement Snow believed possible. She was false faces and forced smiles around people these days, unwilling to let anybody see that inside she was as put together as the shattered coffee mug that she had thrown against her kitchen wall that morning and hadn’t had the time to clean up because of the emergency call that dragged her out of her house.
It was a week after their return from the Underworld, and while at first it seemed like her parents had understood that she was not okay or fine or any of the other things people around Storybrooke expected her to be, after a few days it became clear to Emma that they were among the people who thought that she should be healing a lot faster than she actually was. They meant well, Emma knew, because they just wanted to see her in better spirits, didn’t want to see her hurting, but that didn’t make Emma feel any better, didn’t make her pain lessen any just because someone wanted it to go away.
There had been loss and darkness and pain because of their time in the Underworld. She missed the time when loss was only counted in bodies – which might have been a crappy thing to want, but it was what she truly felt. It was easier getting over someone’s death than it was getting over the loss of hopes, dreams, and the loss of yourselrf. (But Emma had lost herself a while ago, she thought, lost bit after bit of the person she knew she was when she let her fear of being alone lead her to doing things she later regretted.)
Her weary eyes scanned the house from the entryway, still standing in front of the door with her black hat in her hand and her jacket zipped up. The house was supposed to be for her and Killian – he’d even been the one to pick it out – but it had never been theirs, and even though she had lived in it as her time as one of the Dark Ones, it didn’t feel like it was hers either. She looked around and saw a life with Killian that she had thought she would have, and while those images had brought her happiness in Camelot when she found out he wanted to have a life with her, wanted something that joined them and made them more permanent, the very thought of those hopes made her feel sick now. They scratched at her insides and made everything hurt, pain slicing through her as she got frustrated with herself for believing anything he had ever said to her and wanting it. She knew better.
Emma squeezed her eyes tightly and leaned back against the door. Some days she missed him; some days she hated him – most days Emma wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel about him, and that only made her get angry with herself. But she had been doing a lot of that lately, and in the end, it only caused her to be in more pain than she was already in.
She was in the middle of taking a steadying breath when her phone vibrated in her pocket, notifying her of a new text message. She groaned and thumped her head back with a loud thunk. Why couldn’t she ever get an hour to herself? She’d been out of the house since seven in the morning, and while she may have not actually wanted to be stuck inside the house that made her feel both trapped and lonely, she was tired of having people always need her for something. She wanted to just breathe for a minute without someone interrupting her because they had this or that problem that only their sheriff or savior or daughter could help them with. When did she get a break? When was she supposed to help her goddamn self when all anyone ever wanted was for her to fix everybody else’s issues?
Annoyance bubbled inside her, hot like boiling water at the top of a pot, threatening to spill over at any second. But when she yanked her phone from her pocket and opened up the text message, she felt her tense shoulders droop and something that had been tight inside her loosen until her knees weakened and she slid down to the floor. Two more text messages came through and she read all three.
Regina: If you would like to come over for dinner tonight, Henry and I will be making pizza and the boneless chicken you like. You’re welcomed to join us now and help, or later if you find that you’re ready to leave microwaved food behind for a night and have a proper meal for dinner.
Regina: If you’re not feeling up to it, then don’t feel obligated to come. I haven’t brought it up with Henry, so don’t feel as though you will be letting him down by not showing up. The invitation is about you. Either way, make sure you eat something. And no, the fries you had for lunch when I saw you earlier do not count.
Regina: Take care.
Emma’s phone slid down her bent thighs, and a moment later her head fell down to the tops of her knees. She needed a drink, something strong. There was a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen that was almost empty, and for a few minutes, Emma contemplated getting up and finishing it off. But when she thought about getting up, it wasn’t to her kitchen that she planned on going. She thought about showing up at Regina’s house and spending the evening with her son and his other mother. Since their return from the Underworld (and a lot longer than that, to be honest), it felt like everyone always wanted something from her, but not Regina. Regina hardly wanted to take what Emma wanted to give to her freely in the past, and now Regina seemed only to want to give to Emma, give when everyone else was all take take take until there was nothing left of Emma but an empty shell of herself.
Regina understood that she was dealing with stuff and needed time to figure out things and get back to feeling normal. It did not surprise her that Regina was the only person who truly understood what she was going through and didn’t expect Emma to be the poster child for happiness and recovered souls. Regina had loss a great deal in her life – recently and not-so-recently – and Emma had found that she could talk to Regina about all of it without fearing judgement for how she processed and handled her emotions. Regina didn’t try to make it all better by trying to help her find the good in all the bad like Mary Margaret did. Regina didn’t give her strange looks when she had an outburst like others had. Regina listened and offered her thoughts here and there, but mostly she was just there when Emma needed, no expectations or hopes or trying to push Emma to feel better when Emma didn’t even know what feeling better than she currently did would feel like anymore.
Emma stayed seated in the dark for another few minutes, surrounded by the silence of an empty house and the overbearing roaring of her thoughts inside her head. When she had had enough of it, she pushed herself up from the floor, shoved her phone in her pocket, pulled her hat on her head, and exited the house without ever leaving the spot in front of the door.
.
.
.
The drive over to 108 Mifflin Street was a quick one, even with Emma’s detour that took her out of the way. It was perhaps one of the things small towns had going for them: everything was close. The fact that they had only one liquor store – or one option for most of their places of business, actually – was something Emma was still getting used to after spending most of her life in heavily populated cities.
Emma parked her Bug on the street, although she usually parked in Regina’s drive. She wasn’t ready to go inside and didn’t want to announce her arrival. She had been working hard on not letting Henry see how fucked up she’d been lately. She knew she wasn’t all that good at it, and knew the kid was too perceptive not to see through the faux happiness that she had gotten others to believe she was letting back into her life again, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t trying to actually be in a better mood when she was with him. It wasn’t hard, really. Emma found that there were few people who she genuinely enjoyed spending her time with lately, and her son was the first person on that list. And it just so happened that his other mother was the second person, meaning their time together wasn’t full of Emma faking smiles and laughing too loudly at things that she didn’t actually find funny. Chances were, Emma would actually have a good time with them. It didn’t mean that she was okay, but it did mean that she was all right for the time she spent with them. For a little while, Emma would feel as though she was finding the parts of herself that she'd been missing.
Emma pulled down the sun visor so she could check her appearance in the mirror. She suddenly felt like she should have showered and changed her clothes, or at least brushed her hair before she left the house. She ran her fingers through it instead, her blonde hair lacking its usual luster. It looked limp and like she hadn’t spent forever in front of a mirror that morning working on it. She rolled her eyes at her own reflection and, using the elastic around her wrist, decided to just put it into a ponytail. She used her thumb to rub around her eyes, fixing her smudged eyeliner the best she could. Honestly, she looked tired. She looked exactly how she felt. But she wanted to at least try not to look like crap. With a little chapstick on her chapped lips and a few minutes with the cold air bringing some color to her cheeks as she sat with the windows down, by the time she was ready to exit her car, she thought she looked a little better than she had when she arrived.
She grabbed the bag sitting in the passenger seat, flipped the sun visor back up with a thud, and then soon she was leaving her car and walking up the walkway to the mayor’s front door. The first time she took this walk, the house had intimidated her (although she would have never admitted that to anyone), with its pristine pillars and elegance that the house oozed even before Emma had gotten a look inside. It was large and screamed wealth and importance, and it was everything Emma had gone her whole life without having. It was the kind of house that, at first glance, Emma would think held a large family with children who all went to private school and were scolded for tracking mud in the house by parents whose cell phones were glued to their ears and were always in meetings but somehow still had family dinners where they talked about, well, whatever families like that talked about. But Emma stopped looking at the house as anything more than Henry and Regina’s home, and the place where she was now welcomed often by both the mother and son that lived inside the too-big house.
Emma rang the doorbell and then slipped her right hand into her pocket, the left one already in the other, the glass bottle in the bag tucked into the bend of her arm. It was a bottle of the same kind of Scotch she had at her house, the one that she and Regina drank together when the brunette paid her a visit and they talked over drinks. There had only been one of those visits recently, and the ones before had been long before that, back when Robin was in New York and Regina had accepted Emma as a friend. Regina liked dark liquor, Emma had discovered sometime during the two months she had spent getting to know Regina better than she had before while also helping out with Operation Mongoose. Emma really didn’t care what she drank. For her it had always been about having whatever she could get her hands on; as long as it was alcohol, it would get the job done.
A golden warmth spilled out of the house when Regina opened the door, and Emma was greeted by an even warmer smile from the woman standing in front of her. Oh, how much things could change with time.
“Emma,” Regina said as she patted her hands down the apron she was wearing over a burgundy top and black skirt, a layer of surprise making her voice slightly husky. “I’m glad you could make it. Come in.”
Emma smiled at Regina as she stepped inside, not weighted down by the usual exhausting feeling she got before (and during, and after) socializing these past few days. “I should have probably texted you back to let you know I would,” she realized as Regina shut the door.
“Well, you’re here now. It no longer matters. I really am glad to see you,” Regina said with a genuine smile as Emma glanced around the foyer and then let her eyes land on the brunette.
“Oh, here.” She handed Regina the whiskey bottle and then unzipped her jacket. Regina pulled the bottle from the bag, read the label, and then smirked a little as a soft hum formed in her throat and her eyes slowly moved from the bottle to Emma’s own. She shrugged her shoulders and explained. “For later, after Henry’s gone to bed, you know, if you wanna. Or maybe another time.”
“After Henry’s retired for the night sounds splendid, dear. I’ll go put this in the study. We can relocate there later tonight. I’m in the mood for a nice fire.” Regina gave Emma another once-over. “I assume I can trust you to hang your jacket in its proper place,” she said, her eyes sparkling with the teasing tone.
Emma rolled her eyes as she pulled said jacket off. “On the back of a chair in the dining room, right?” she inquired with a straight face.
Regina gave Emma a warning look,
Emma rolled her eyes once more, but this time she did so as she made her way to the closet to her left, biting back a grin. “I know, I know, I know. In the closet. God forbid it goes anywhere else and destroys the Better Homes and Gardens magazine cover-ready look you’re going for.”
“There is nothing wrong with wanting an orderly home, Emma,” Regina replied, her voice floating away as Emma was left alone to remove her boots and hang up her outerwear.
“No, but there is a difference between orderly and obsessively neat.” She bent over at the waist and unzipped her boots, her black jeans tight on her thighs. “And, for the record, your house is definitely more than just orderly. I bet your sofa cushions don’t even have spare change underneath them.”
A light chuckle made her jump and look over her shoulder. Regina had returned and was standing with her arms folded across her chest as she waited for Emma. “You sound a little too sure of that. Have you made a habit of searching for loose coins beneath the cushions, dear?”
Emma narrowed her eyes and then stood up straight. She put her boots away and then shut the door. She gave her toes a wiggle in her socks, noting that they didn’t match and not really giving a damn about it. At least there were no holes in them. That would have been embarrassing.
“Where’s Henry at? Usually, he’s already pulled me away somewhere by now.”
Regina nodded her head to the stairs. “He’s finishing up his homework before he comes downstairs to help me in the kitchen. You can go up and say hello if–”
But Emma cut her off as she hurried to the bend of the stairs and yelled up, “Hey, Henry,” much to Regina’s obvious displeasure. Emma only grinned when Regina gave her a disapproving look, though.
“Emma,” Henry called back as he rushed down the stairs, sounding as though he was trying to stomp his way through them.
“Do you see how your deplorable mannerisms have affected our son? He used to know better than to run down the stairs.”
Emma was going to call bullshit, because Henry didn’t get that from her – it was probably just a kid thing, really. But when Regina said ‘our son’ and was unable to hide the glint in her eyes, Emma couldn’t be bothered to do anything but soak up the warmth that she suddenly felt surrounding her.
Henry sorta just fell into Emma from the step he was on, towering over her and trying to hug her. It should have been awkward, the kid already growing too tall for her liking and now standing above her because of the stairs, her head tucked under his chin as his arms pulled her in for the hug, but it wasn’t. It couldn’t have been. She understood why Regina lit up like a shooting star whenever Henry hugged her. There was something just so perfect about Henry hugging her, especially after the craptastic day she had had. She even felt herself holding him a little tighter than she normally would, the smell of laundry detergent still fresh on the t-shirt he was wearing.
“All right, Ma.” He squirmed out of Emma’s arms, laughing. “You just saw me this morning at Granny’s.”
“That was almost twelve hours ago, kid. Aren’t I allowed to miss you? Hmm?”
“Yeah, but not that much. I need for you not to break my ribs because of how much you miss me.” Henry turned to his other mother. “Since Emma’s here, can I work on my homework after she leaves? Please.”
Emma turned to look over her shoulder, just as Regina turned to look at Emma. “Miss Swan will actually be joining us for dinner tonight. So, no you may not put your homework aside until after she leaves. We’ve already discussed you having it finished before you come back downstairs, haven’t we, Henry? Her arrival does not change the terms to our agreement.”
Henry frowned. “Yes, but that–”
“No ‘but’s, young man,” Regina said in a no-nonsense tone. And then lighter, with a soft smile, she added, “Emma will be here until you go to bed, and I am quite certain there will be an adequate amount of time for you two to spend doing whatever you like once you are finished with that English assignment and dinner is over.”
“Yeah,” Emma agreed with Regina. “I’m not going anywhere. Homework first like your mom said.”
Henry turned his frown on her, but Emma simply inclined her head and signaled for him to follow Regina’s orders and go upstairs. “You guys aren’t going to start on the pizzas without me, are you?” he asked Regina, sounding more upset about being left out than anything else.
“No, of course not, Henry,” Regina promised. “Where’s the fun in that?”
After considering her words for a moment, Henry nodded and turned around. “All right. I’ll be back soon.”
Emma watched him go and then turned to Regina, surprised to find the brunette already looking at her. Emma arched her eyebrow. “What’s up?”
Regina offered her a half-smile and shook her head. “Nothing, dear.”
Emma’s brow furrowed slightly. She slid her hands into her back pockets and tried not to fidget.
“You looked rather... comfortable hugging him,” Regina said after a moment of silence. “I was only thinking that I am glad that I decided to extend the offer for you to come here, just as I am happy that you decided to accept it.”
“Oh,” Emma said softly, not sure what she had expected but knowing that was not it.
Regina searched Emma’s face for a few seconds and then let out a slow breath and flexed her fingers before brushing her hands down the white and red apron she wore. “Yes, well–”
“Thank you,” Emma said, walking over towards Regina as the brunette started making her way to the kitchen, “for inviting me, I mean.”
“Of course. I know from experience that spending time with Henry can do a lot of good when you might not be in the best of moods.”
Emma followed Regina into the kitchen silently. There were ingredients laying out on the island and a second apron across the back of a stool. There were fresh vegetables of various bright colors, reds and yellows and oranges and greens, and rolling pins next to chopping boards. The kitchen smelled like the pizzeria she and Henry frequented in Manhattan, and Emma’s stomach gave a loud rumble as if it could sense all the delicious smells and knew it would be getting spoiled tonight like it always was whenever she had dinner at Regina’s house.
Emma’s idea of making pizza was buying a frozen pizza and putting it in the oven, but Regina went all out.
What Regina said about spending time with Henry suddenly registered, and Emma looked over to the brunette as she went and washed her hands. “I didn’t only come here because of Henry, Regina. You do know that, right?”
Regina leaned against the counter next to Emma, arms folded across her chest. She flicked her eyes over to Emma and held her gaze for a long moment before she nodded her head carefully. “Yes, I do know that.”
Emma nodded. “Good.” She nodded again.
“I also included that there would be food available for your consumption if you were to come over. I’m sure that played a big part in you deciding to come over as well,” Regina said, and although it was clear she was trying to hold it back, a smile tugged at her lips.
Emma flicked her wet fingers and sent water flying Regina’s direction, something she wouldn’t have dared done a few years back. “That’s not what I meant, Regina, and you know it.”
Regina’s smile fell from her face, but the look in her eyes only became softer. “Yes, my dear, I know.”
Emma raised her brow.
Regina licked her lips and nodded.
Emma’s stomach did an odd little dip that made her look away from Regina and focus on scrubbing hands clean that she had already washed long enough.
.
.
.
Making pizza with Henry and Regina was, well, an experience.
Emma didn’t know the first thing about making pizza except that it needed sauce, cheese, and toppings – and that it all went on top of dough – but she learned that it was something Henry and Regina had been doing together since he was four. Emma felt like she was intruding on something special and private by being a part of it. She didn’t belong, even though Henry called her mom and Regina showed her how much sauce to put and how to make stuffed crust like Emma liked it.
Emma mostly watched and nodded, really. It was more overwhelming than she thought possible. Times like these Emma hated how she treated Regina in the past, hated how she doubted Regina’s love for Henry and her parenting skills, how she’d almost taken it all away from Regina after New York. They’d come a long way since then, and neither she nor Regina were the same women they were when they first met, but Emma couldn’t stop feeling guilty when she was constantly faced with proof of how much love Henry had had in his life because of Regina and how much he meant to her. There had been problems – but there were always going to be problems – but Emma couldn’t have imagined a better mom for her son if she tried. Regina turned out to be everything she had wanted for her kid.
Emma’s heart felt heavy in her chest when she stepped back and just watched the two of them. It wouldn’t be long before Henry was towering over Regina, which was a reminder of how much she had missed out on and how little time she had left before he was doing his own thing and he didn’t need Emma. He didn’t really need her now. The only time Henry had actually needed Emma was when they were in New York, and sometimes she thought about how perfect it had all felt, that year (that life, as that was how it had felt at the time), and she wanted it all back. She wanted her kid to need her, and she wanted to feel like she had a normal life and small family. Except she didn’t want to take any of it away from Regina. She wanted Regina to have it, too. And it was weird, but then it wasn’t. She could have a family with Regina and Henry, couldn’t she? They’d been doing the whole co-parent thing pretty nicely, she thought, and Emma could only hope it would continue to go smoothly.
Regina glanced around the kitchen as if trying to hide that she was looking for Emma, but Regina wasn’t all that subtle and Emma sensed eyes on her. It was as though Regina had noticed Emma was no longer with the two of them and was actually worried about something. Emma frowned, not understanding the look in Regina’s eyes when they met hers, but she didn’t have the time to try to decipher the code Regina could sometimes be because Regina, as soon as their eyes met, turned away and started talking to Henry again.
.
.
.
“If you’ve changed your mind about wanting to stay here longer, just tell me, Miss Swan.”
They had eaten dinner, cleaned up, and then Regina had worked in her study while Emma and Henry played one of his games.
("Oh my God, stop that!"
Henry laughed loudly. "This is war, Ma. I'm taking you down. There's no more Mister Nice Guy."
Emma rolled her eyes and leaned closer, thumbs moving quickly over the controller. "You want war," she said, and then there was a loud boom and everything around Henry exploded, "you've got it."
Henry glared at her.)
Emma had thought the night had been an enjoyable one, had believed they all had a good time, but suddenly Regina was giving Emma an out like something was wrong and she wanted to just put an end to the night.
Emma was stuck between feeling like she should take the out, assuming it to be a hint that Regina no longer wanted Emma in her home, and wanting to tell Regina that there was honestly nowhere else she would rather be. Both options sounded horrible to her. If she were to take the out, then she would just be going to her house to be alone a lot sooner than she expected she would. Regina would probably also think Emma didn’t want to be there anymore. If she were to tell Regina how badly she wanted to be with her, she risked making things weird between them. It also meant revealing how much her time with Regina meant to her when she wasn’t confident that their time spent together meant as much to Regina. She didn’t like people knowing how important they were in her life – it made it harder hiding how much it hurt when they pushed her away or discarded her when they were done taking from her whatever they wanted.
(Regina wouldn’t do that, she tried convincing herself, but she was in a constant push-pull sort of thing with how she viewed her relationship with Regina. There were moments she knew for certain that Regina valued her opinions, trusted her, and genuinely enjoyed her company. But then there were moments when Emma had a hard time believing that Regina did more than tolerate her. She’d been required to see a shrink when she was much younger, and one thing she still couldn’t wipe from her brain was how the psychologist had implied – well, really, insisted – that Emma had a low level of self-worth. Perhaps she had been right. Perhaps Emma still struggled with both how she viewed herself and how she thought others viewed her.)
So Emma did neither. Instead, she rubbed her hands down her thighs and got up from the seat she had taken in the study. Regina had brought in two glass tumblers already, so Emma picked them up along with the bottle of Scotch, brought them back to the coffee table between the two loveseats that faced each other, and then poured them both two fingers of whiskey.
“Drink up,” Emma said, eyeing the brunette while tightening the cap on the bottle.
Regina lifted the glass and swirled the amber liquid around. (Emma remembered too late that Regina preferred her whiskey on the rocks, but the mayor did not complain.) She looked at Emma thoughtfully, and then she took a slow sip from her drink. Emma waited a moment before following her lead. Her slow sip, however, was more like a quick gulp that burned pleasantly and made her skin instantly tingle.
She shivered slightly, and Regina smirked and finally relaxed into her loveseat. She took another sip and then sighed as she let her eyes fall shut. Emma wondered when Regina had actually gotten comfortable enough around her to do that, to just sit back and close her eyes and feel safe while Emma was in her home.
They sat in silence for a long while, only the crackle coming from the fireplace filling the air. It was the most at ease Emma had felt the past few days. She had brought her legs up into the seat and scooted down until she was almost laying flat with her head on a pillow she had brought into the room and leaned against the seat’s arm. She’d pulled her hair free and allowed it to spill down towards the floor like a waterfall. Her eyes were focused on the ceiling, but only because she had noticed at some point that Regina had opened her own eyes and was looking at Emma. It didn’t make her uncomfortable, so she didn’t say anything. When they were alone and it was quiet, Emma sometimes felt like Regina was on the verge of saying something to her that would be important, but the brunette never did more than look at Emma with this look in her eyes that Emma didn’t really have a name for.
It was actually Emma who broke the silence after Regina had refilled Emma’s empty glass and Emma had finished half of the second drink.
“I need some time off.” Emma rolled over onto her side and met Regina’s questioning eyes.
“Are you–” Regina moistened her lips. “Are you making a request for time off from work while you’re drinking in my house?”
Emma’s eyebrows knitted together. “No,” she said slowly. Wait, was she? She shook her head. “No,” she said with more confidence. “What I’m after is your wisdom.”
“My wisdom,” Regina repeated with an amused hum.
Emma closed her eyes and savored that sound. Was it strange to be filled to the brim with joy from someone else’s laughter? Because all Regina had to do was laugh and Emma wanted to smile herself, wanted to laugh freely.
“I don’t know. You’re my voice of reason,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “If I need to talk something through, I go to you. When I need someone to tell me I’m making a bad decision, I know you’ll do it without hesitation. If I’m not making any sense, you’ve always, I don’t know, made sense for me.”
“What an honor.”
Emma opened her eyes so she could narrow them while looking at Regina.
Regina held up her hands defensively and said, “Despite the sarcastic tone, I was being serious, dear. Please, go on.”
Emma sighed and relaxed her face muscles before reaching for her whiskey and swallowing down the mouthful. It was sipping whiskey, Regina constantly told her, but Emma never really did listen to her and felt the harsh burn of it in her throat and eyes every time.
Emma sighed again and got comfortable on her back, her head already starting to swim. “It’s like there’s no break anymore. I’ve literally forgotten what it feels like to just exist and there not be something crazy going on in my life. I haven’t felt like myself since...” Emma chewed on the inside of her cheek as she searched her mind for the last time she felt somewhat normal.
“Before Rumple returned,” Regina said quietly. It wasn’t even a suggestion, it was a confident answer that was full of buckets-worth of understanding.
Emma’s eyes flicked over to Regina. She smiled faintly and nodded. “When it was somewhat peaceful and my biggest problem was trying to figure out what kind of salad you would be in the mood for when I picked up lunch for us.”
Regina made a sarcastic noise in her throat that reminded Emma of the disbelieving look Regina was probably also giving her. “You showed up with the same kind most of the time.”
“Well maybe if you would expand your horizons a little...”
“And what? Eat club sandwiches and grilled cheese every day instead? I don’t think so.”
Emma grinned. “Don’t forget the cheese burgers.”
“You know, it is honestly a miracle you still fit into your clothes with the unhealthy diet you have. I’m not sure your jeans could handle you putting on any weight. They are already rather tight on you.”
“Been checking me out, Madam Mayor?” Emma asked with a wink, tuning her head a little so she could look at Regina.
Regina’s eyes widened quickly, but she averted them and reached for her drink and didn’t respond to the question. There was a deep flush on her cheeks, but Emma wasn’t sure if it had already been there or not. Emma turned away and shut her eyes back, her hands folded on her stomach.
“I went from Gold wanting to turn me dark, to being imprisoned – and chained up – because of some lunatic writer, to being swallowed up by darkness – or, I guess, really the darkness was the one being swallowed up, I don’t know, depends on how you wanna put it – to finding myself in another realm, then being the Dark One and creating a Dark One and losing more of myself in the process, to going to fucking Hell to save my– him.” She breathed out loudly. “And I just feel like I deserve a little time to myself, you know? When am I supposed to heal if everybody is still expecting me to be at their beck and call whenever an ‘emergency’ happens? It’s like they expect me to just magically get over everything I’ve gone through, and I can’t. That’s not how real life works.”
“You don’t have to,” Regina told her in a voice that made Emma feel like she really meant it, like she understood exactly what Emma was going through. “You’ve been through a lot this past year, Emma. If you don’t think that you’re ready to step back into your role as the sheriff, then, by all means, don’t.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Emma said after a long pause in their conversation.
She could hear Regina shifting across from her, but she continued to lay with her eyes closed. “Isn’t it?”
Emma shrugged her shoulders the best she could in her position, tapping her fingers against her stomach. “Maybe. Probably not. I don’t want to– Mary Margaret and David are–” Emma frowned, unable to make sense of the words tumbling around her head.
“You’re worried about disappointing them,” Regina said quietly.
Emma’s heart skipped a beat.
“Yeah,” she admitted. When had Regina gotten to know her so well? “Well, sorta. I guess what I’m really worried about is proving to myself that I’m not what they hoped I would be, that I’m not enough.”
“May I ask why you feel that way?”
Emma shrugged again, and then she opened her eyes and turned back on her side. The first thing she noticed was that Regina was curled up in the corner of the seat, stocking-covered feet tucked beneath her; she looked smaller like that. The second thing she noticed were the warm brown eyes full of intense emotions that were focused completely on her, looking at Emma as though Regina could see right through her.
Emma swallowed slowly and glanced over to her glass. It was empty, and she really didn’t feel like reaching for the bottle. She probably shouldn’t have anymore if she ever planned on going to her house, anyway.
“Mary Margaret keeps talking about how strong and resilient I am, and how I’m going to bounce right back from everything, like I’m a ball or something. She just thinks so much of me, and I can’t meet her standards.”
“I won’t pretend to understand what goes on in Snow White’s head – I’m quite certain she doesn’t know herself at times – but I do know that she loves and accepts you as you are. Whether you’re able to quickly bounce back from difficult changes in your life, or you take time to look after yourself and you find that you are not ready to for certain activities for another few weeks – or longer, if that’s what you need – your parents will continue to be unbearably positive and think the world of you. There are no bars you’re required to reach for them to think you’re one of the most special people in their lives, because you are their daughter. You are special to them without doing anything – and that only makes you more special when they get to see how incredible you actually are."
"You think I'm incredible?"
Regina narrowed her eyes. "Shut it, Swan."
Emma bit the corner of her lip. Regina smiled a little, but then she cleared her throat and straightened up a bit.
“I understand what it’s like feeling as though you’re not enough, Emma. I know what it’s like to not only feel like you’re not enough, but actually know that you’re not. But do you know what else I know? I know that among the many flaws between your mother and David, not seeing how remarkable their daughter is is not one of them.
“You are a fighter and you don’t back down from a fight. I should know," she said, surprisingly rather fondly. "It will be a battle finding your true self again, and it will take time, but I have the utmost faith in you. I know you will be able to do it. It won’t happen when Mary Margaret wants it, or when anybody else does. When you’re ready, that’s when it’ll happen. And in the meantime, your family will continue loving you and being here for you however you need them – need us.”
Emma’s lips parted to release a shaky breath when Regina’s lips turned upward into a slow smile and her eyes danced across Emma’s face, the look in her eyes cautious and maybe even a little nervous, but what really caught her attention was the glassiness of them, raw emotions being expressed without Regina attempting to keep them hidden from Emma.
Us.
Regina was including herself, and that made something inside Emma twist because how had they gotten this far? Just earlier she was wondering if she could have a family with Henry and Regina, and there Regina was now already calling herself that.
She didn’t know what to say, was suddenly too overwhelmed by her feelings. So she stayed still and continued looking into Regina’s eyes, hoping the other woman could see in them how much what Regina said meant to her.
.
.
.
Something wasn’t right.
It was the first thing Emma realized as she started waking up. She’d been waking up in the middle of the night from bad dreams recently, feeling cold and lost but sweating alone in her bed. But it wasn’t a bad dream that was responsible for waking the sleeping sheriff this time. It was the strange feeling that something was off. That feeling was confusing when she struggled to pull herself completely from her slumber, because it had been the best sleep she had had in a long while and she was surprisingly very warm. The problem with her night was that it hadn’t been terrible, and was that really a problem?
But something wasn’t right.
Emma groaned with displeasure. If she could just roll over and– Whoa! She quickly changed her mind when her heart jumped in her chest and she felt like she was about to fall on the floor. Rolling over was a terrible idea. She clearly was not in her bed, or anyone else’s bed.
Wait.
Someone else’s bed.
Had she even gone home last night?
And why did her mouth feel so damn dry?
Her head started to pound suddenly from the thoughts rushing to get to the forefront of her brain. She groaned again, and with that groan came a memory from last night of Regina pouring her a glass of whiskey.
Oh. That was where she was. She was still at Regina’s, still on her loveseat that was built for style and not comfort. She relaxed and curled back into herself, intending to fall back to sleep since she knew where she was and felt no urgent need to leave. But then she heard a sound come from behind her and nearly jumped out of her skin as she rolled over and hopped up. (Way too quickly. Did the room always spin like that?)
She was surprised to find Regina still in the study with her, the brunette curled up on her side, her hair swept across her face and the arm she was leaning on. It couldn’t have been all that comfortable, though. She was bent at a weird angle and the wood part of the loveseat’s arm was probably digging into her flesh.
Emma yawned behind her hand and slowly sat back down, wondering what time it was. Her phone had died a little after she had gotten to Regina’s house, and it was too dark in the study to see the time on the clock behind her without getting up again. And Emma really didn’t care about the time enough to get up and check. She was still sleepy, that much she knew, and terribly thirsty. She rubbed her hands across her face, and then through her hair. She only hissed once from getting her fingers stuck in the tangles.
Okay, she decided, nodding her head at herself, definitely gonna need some water.
That was, of course, how she ended up waking Regina up. Because Emma couldn’t even get up to use the bathroom and get something to drink without finding a way to disturb the peace.
Regina sat up with more grace than anyone with mussed hair and crumpled clothes should be able to do, slowly untucking her legs from beneath her and putting her feet down on the floor. She looked confused, then worried, and then confused once more as her tired eyes moved around the room and then noticed Emma still bent over the coffee table she had stubbed her toe on, resulting in her cursing quite loudly. And then, as if she was putting pieces of a puzzle together, Regina suddenly looked as though she understood something – what, Emma hadn’t the slightest idea, because she was mostly half-asleep herself – and then her confusion disappeared and her expression became a completely blank mask.
“Oh, it's you. Aren’t you supposed to be good at this sort of thing by now?”
Emma blinked, twice. Okay, what happened to the Regina she had spent last night talking to? How did Emma get her back? And where did she send the cranky version of her that was glaring at Emma even though she had no idea what she had even done. Normally she at least understood why Regina was glaring at her.
“Uh. What?”
“Do try to be more considerate of others when you’re sneaking out in the middle of the night,” Regina said flatly.
Emma straightened up and stretched her arms out, not letting Regina’s bite sting. “I wasn’t sneaking out. Well, I was, but I wasn’t. I mean–”
“Please, don’t bother explaining,” Regina said with a shake of her head. She looked annoyed, and Emma’s heart sunk a little because of it. It had been a while since Regina truly looked annoyed because of Emma. “I can assure you that I neither care nor want to hear what you have to say. I told you that you were free to leave whenever you wanted, and I meant it.”
“O-kay,” Emma said slowly.
For some reason, Emma felt like she had perhaps missed part of what had happened. Because the last thing she remembered, she and Regina were talking about something that had Regina smiling at Emma more than Emma ever remembered Regina smiling at her, and the Regina in front of her was a complete one-eighty from the woman who had made Emma feel warm inside like she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Are you always this cranky before coffee? Because if you are, I think I should go make some before you bite my head off for no apparent reason.”
Regina looked far more insulted than she should have – or at least than Emma thought she should have. “Excuse me?”
Emma shrugged her shoulders. “Coffee. I think I’ll go make some,” she said, deciding to just let Regina be.
Emma didn’t make it far. Regina stopped her just outside of the door with a hand wrapped around her wrist. “What are you doing?”
Emma’s eyes narrowed. “Coffee,” she told her again. “Are you even listening to me?”
“I thought you were leaving,” Regina said, her voice cold.
Emma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because you’re not listening to me. I was trying to tell you, before you interrupted me, that I wasn’t leaving. I was just trying to leave the room to get something to drink and use the bathroom.”
Regina’s eyes quickly flashed with an apology and dread, and her hand pulled away from Emma so quickly that one might think she’d been burned. “I–” Regina dampened her lips and looked away. She took in a deep breath and exhaled loudly, the fingers on one of her hands rubbing the other. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I saw you leaving, and I thought–” Regina shook her head. “Never mind what I thought. I apologize for my irrational behavior.”
“Apology accepted,” Emma said with a small smile and without a moment of hesitation. “Now, coffee?”
Regina gave her a strange look, and then she looked at her wrist, squinting at her watch. “It’s five o’clock in the morning.”
“Yeah, and I’m awake, you’re awake, so...”
“Sure. I will get it started while you go the bathroom.”
“I can do it.”
Regina shook her head dismissively. “I would also appreciate having a moment to clear my head,” she shared with a worrying look on her face.
Emma frowned and laid a hand on Regina’s arm. “Are you okay?”
Regina only gave her a tight smile and patted her hand.
.
.
.
Emma pushed the swinging kitchen door open and entered the kitchen. She’d taken her time in the bathroom and had gone upstairs and peeked in Henry’s room to offer Regina as much time to herself as possible before meeting her in the kitchen. She meant to enter quietly and go unnoticed, but Regina looked over her shoulder and directly at Emma as soon as she walked in.
“Kid’s sleeping peacefully – loudly, but definitely peacefully.”
A smile crossed her lips for a quick moment before disappearing. Emma frowned and walked the rest of the way into the kitchen, pulling out one of the black stools and taking a seat.
“Did I do something?” Emma blurted out a second after sitting. Regina tensed from the sudden burst of noise in the quiet kitchen, and Emma immediately sighed. “It’s just that I thought we had a good time last night, and now I can’t tell if something’s wrong or not.”
Regina relaxed her shoulders and spun around to face Emma properly. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Emma. I’m just tired.”
“I should leave,” she said out loud, scratching the back of her neck, “that way you can get some more sleep and I won’t be in your way. It was nice of you to invite me over last night, and I really needed that. So thanks, really. But if I’m stopping you from getting rest, I should just go.”
Regina rubbed at her forehead with her fingers. “You’re not going to rest until you give me a headache, are you?” Regina said with the hint of laughter in her voice. “Emma, I’m only going to say this once. I do not want you to leave. You did absolutely nothing wrong, and I am sorry for how quickly I assumed that you were trying to sneak out. Waking up to that just reminded me of something I didn’t want to be reminded of, and I responded poorly because of something that didn’t have anything to do with you. You are not in the way, and if you were to go home, I still would not be getting any more sleep until tonight.”
“Are you sure?” Emma asked
“If I wasn’t, do you think I would be making you coffee in my kitchen at five o’clock in the morning?”
“Right,” she said with a single nod, accepting what Regina said. “Thank you, again. Last night with you and the kid really helped me. It’s just been a lot lately, and–”
“I know, Emma,” Regina said kindly, turning away and taking down two coffee mugs. “You don’t need to explain. We can just have coffee and enjoy the silence while it lasts.”
Emma smiled. That sounded perfect.