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You did this
Snow looks up and meets her eyes, and guilt strokes across her face.
‘You- you-’ Regina’s hand still burns from the heat of her mother’s heart against her hand, and she fights the urge to gag.
‘Regina-’ Snow is crying, silently, and Regina closes her eyes. She imagines Snow on fire, screaming, those pretty tears burned away by the flames. She imagines reaching her hand into her chest and crushing her heart to dust.
She opens her eyes.
Charming is standing beside Snow, hand on his sword. He is watching Regina like he knows exactly what she is itching to do.
She is suddenly aware that she is still on the floor and Rumpelstiltskin is still behind her, fully healed and likely to intervene if she tries anything.
She wants to stand and fight regardless, but the weight of her mother’s body pulls her down and she will not let go.
So she closes her eyes again and feels and the magic comes so strong that she feels it crackle all around her body. Snow and Charming tense, waiting for the attack, but Regina just tightens her arms around her mother’s body and takes them both away.
*
She lands them in the forest behind the crypt, and she has to stop and catch her breath. She and Cora had been burning through magic too fast, over the last few days, and she can already feel the fatigue pulling at her bones. She briefly considers the benefits of transporting them straight into a vault her to save her magic and compromises in the end, using a faint levitation spell to help.
She fixes her gaze straight forward, and makes her way through the crypt, walking a path that she could follow in her sleep.
Her crypt is blessedly empty, and she works fast, wrenching the cover off her mother’s coffin and placing her inside. She looks down, finally.
The body in her mother’s coffin is old. Its face is sunken, and the skin forms lines that Cora would never have allowed to exist. It is neither the cold woman who raised her nor the mother she had for all of twenty seconds.
She calls a rose from her garden and it arrives, fresh and sweet smelling and too bright for this room. She murmurs a blessing over it as she uncurls one of her mother’s hands and places the rose against her palm.
It feels entirely too sweet a gesture for a woman that Regina has feared and hated in equal measures since she was eighteen. But she cannot bring herself to take the rose back.
She reaches out and touches her mother’s cool, withered cheek, and it’s like breaking. She feels like every evil thing she has ever dreamed of doing to Snow White is being done to her, tenfold.
‘Regina.’
Rumpelstiltskin is standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching her intently.
‘Get out.’
He ignores her and takes a step closer.
‘Predictable as always, Regina. Finding you in the first place I look? I thought I taught you better than that.’
‘I’ll kill you.’
He laughs. It sounds like broken glass.
‘You will be the thousandth person to try, and fail.’
‘I’ll kill her.’ Good Snow, sweet Snow, Snow with a box in her hands and a promise on her lips. Her nails dig into the palms of her hands.
‘Of course you will, dearie. You’ll find Snow white and her husband, and kill them. Then what? Emma? When she comes to make you pay for taking her parents away from her, again, will you kill her too? And your boy-’
‘Don’t.’
‘You will make yourself a target for the whole town, for Cora.’
‘She was my mother.’ Rumpelstiltskin walks closer. He is barely using his cane at all, and Regina takes a wary step back.
‘She was a psychopath.’
‘I believe the saying has something to do with pots and kettles, Gold.’
‘Maybe,’ he allows, ‘but my point still stands.’
If I wish to kill Snow White, I will do so. And I do want to. So very badly.’ She smiles a bright, empty smile, more Evil Queen than Regina Mills. More mad with power than mad with grief.
Rumpelstiltskin is quiet for a while and Regina turns away from him to pull the lid of the coffin closed. She does not want to do it like this, with him at her back, making her hands shake with nerves. She wanted to take her time and say goodbye, again, but she wants to leave this crypt more.
The lid snaps shut with a final-sounding click and she takes a second to compose herself before she turns back around. Rumpelstiltskin hasn’t moved.
‘If you kill Snow White,’ he says, ‘Henry will hate you until the day he dies.’
‘He hates me anyway,’ she says. She has never said these words out loud before, and they settle heavily in her chest.
‘He distrusts you. He is distracted by his new family. But he is a child. And children can forgive almost anything.’
Suddenly, she is tired. She doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want to be here.
‘I don’t want you to talk about my son. I want you to leave. Please.’ This is as close to begging as she has gotten in a while, and she breathes out a sigh of relief when he nods and turns to leave. When he gets to the first step he turns around.
‘I am truly sorry about your mother,’ he says. He leaves before she can say anything else, and she stares at the spot where he was standing for a few seconds before facing the coffin again.
She waits a few minutes before casting the strongest protection spell she can.
‘Goodbye,’ she says, and waits.
Nothing.
So she leaves.
Five
Soon her burning anger at Snow White (who somehow manages to be at the centre of everything that causes her pain) turns into a paralyzing helplessness.
Oh god she is alone and she has nothing oh god oh god
She can’t sleep. So she stops trying and spends hours cleaning out the attic and reorganising Henry’s old baby clothes.
She dusts, and dusts again.
Sometimes she cries, long choking sobs that she thinks might kill her.
On the fifth day there is a knock on the door. She stops what she was doing
(reading her old spell books and watching purple sparks dart between her fingers)
And opens the door to find Archie on the other side, Pongo sitting obediently next to him.
Archie’s eyes widen when they see her.
‘Regina,’ he says, his voice shocked and high. She must look worse than she thought. ‘I wanted to check on you. I wanted to see how you are doing.’
‘Did Snow White send you? Pongo stands and moves towards Regina, leaning his warm body against her leg.
‘What? No. I was worried about you.’
‘That’s sweet of you. You can leave now.’ She moves to shut the door, but Archie steps forward before she can.
‘No, wait Regina. I just meant, if you need someone to talk to. I can help. I would like to help.’
‘I thought we already established that you are incapable of keeping your mouth shut about my business, Bug. And this is my business. Mine and Snow White’s.’
‘Regina-’
‘Leave,’ she says. Sparks jump into her hand and she touches a finger to the door frame. The enchanted fire takes hold quickly and Archie jumps back, yanking Pongo back with him. The fire spreads down the frame and across the porch, making a lazy, winding path towards for Archie as he stumbles off the porch and down the path.
When he is finally off her property the fire roars and leaps up once, a warning, before going out completely, leaving no trace behind. She catches a brief look at Archie’s wounded face before the door closes.
Six
The next day, almost a week after her mother was killed
By her by Snow by Rumpelstiltskin
Snow White comes to apologise.
Regina laughs genuinely for the first time in a while as she uses the magic that has been building under her skin to toss Snow White clear off her property.
(The urge to kill her right then is almost too strong to resist, but Regina hasn’t seen that particular brand of sorrow on Snow’s face in a while and even thinking about it later makes her smile).
Ten
It takes four days for the Charming clan to come knocking.
She opens the door to Emma is standing on the porch, her parents further back. Charming’s arm is draped across Snow protectively. She sneers at them before focusing her attention on Emma.
‘So, you’re the designated spokeswoman, then?’ She lowers her voice. ‘Between you and me, they could have chosen better.’ Emma scowls for a second before her expression evens out.
‘I – we just want to talk, Regina. I just want to work this out.’ Emma looks desperately uncomfortable, trapped between her anxious parents and Regina’s focused malevolence.
‘Really? How?’
‘Well, we could start by talking.’
‘I have nothing to say to her,’ Regina spits. She glances at Snow White to see her nestled in Charming’s arms, watching her carefully.
‘Don’t talk to her, then. Talk to me.’
Regina considers blasting her off the porch like she did to her mother, but Emma has her fingers curled around her door frame in a way that suggests that she will keep coming back. So Regina takes a step back.
‘Fine,’ she says. She pulls the door open a little wider. ‘Come on in’ she adds, and she smiles.
Emma looks trapped, scared, because this close Regina knows that she can likely see how very near Regina is to just setting them all on fire. Emma must also see the challenge in Regina’s eyes, because she straightens her shoulder and nods.
‘Lead the way,’ she says, and she pushes into the house. Regina looks outside to see Snow and David still standing outside, looking utterly terrified that their only child has walked into the home of their greatest enemy. She gives them a sarcastic little wave before she shuts and locks the door behind them.
Emma is standing in the hall, and Regina leads them into her study, where she pours them both a generous measure of whiskey. Emma hesitates to take a sip of hers, and Regina rolls her eyes and takes an exaggerated sip from her glass.
‘Can’t blame me,’ Emma mutters.
‘I suppose I can’t,’ Regina says.
Having someone in her home after all this time feels odd. It feels like they are taking up all the space in the room, even though her study is more than big enough for both of them. Regina takes a seat on one of the chairs, and Emma follows suit.
‘Henry’s doing good,’ Emma says, and honestly, that was possibly the worst choice for icebreaker she could have made. Regina downs the rest of the whiskey and puts the glass down so she doesn’t break it.
‘We’re not here to discuss my son, Miss Swan. So tell me what you want to tell me and leave, please.’
Emma stares at her over the top of her glass, for so long that Regina starts to feel uncomfortable. ‘Okay, then. We won’t talk about Henry.’
So they sit. Regina waits for Emma to say something, and Emma looks around her study and runs her fingers around the lid of her glass and just watches Regina watch her. Regina is well aware of what Emma is doing, but it doesn’t stop her from breaking down and speaking first.
‘Are you going to kill me?’
‘Are you going to kill my mother?’
‘She killed mine.’
‘She did,’ Emma says, simply.
Regina was expecting Emma to defend her sainted mother, to give her the excuses that have been running though Regina’s mind for the last ten days, but she simply sits there, waiting.
‘She made me kill her,’ Regina says. ‘She promised me... She made me kill her. I was so stupid.’
It doesn’t make any sense that she is sitting here like this, talking to the Saviour, the Golden girl who is fated to thwart her every plan. But Emma has a perspective borne of growing up in a world with infinite shades of grey. There is so much of Emma that the Charmings would not have had in a daughter that they had raised themselves, and this allows Regina to keep talking.
‘I don’t know what to do next,’ Regina admits. The house is cleaner than it is ever been, her son is gone, and she does not even have the energy to lift her head from where it now rests in her palms.
‘You could start by leaving the house,’ Emma suggests. And Regina finds herself distracted enough to lift her hand up and glare. Emma raises her hands.
‘I’m just saying. You haven’t left the house in days. You’re probably out of food, and stuff.’ Regina gives a very unladylike snort.
‘Leave, and give the imbeciles in this town a chance to kill me?’ Emma sighs.
‘No one’s going to kill you, Regina.’
‘I find that very hard to believe, Miss Swan.’
‘Well, believe it,’ Emma insists. ‘I mean, no offense, but you haven’t actually managed to accomplish anything evil since the curse broke. You’re a pretty terrible Evil Queen,’ Emma adds.
‘So...’
‘Go outside. Take a walk. Talk to Archie. He’s been worried about you.’
Worried about what I’ll do, you mean.’
‘No, worried about you.’
Regina simply watches her, eyes flat and disbelieving, and Emma growls in exasperation.
‘You are so fucking stubborn. Look-’
Emma reaches over and holds one of Regina’s hands in hers. She says something, keeps talking, but Regina is too distracted by the sight of her hand in someone else’s. It occurs to her that the last person she touched was her mother, and she shudders.
‘-Care about you,’ Emma finishes saying. ‘Okay?’
‘Yes, fine, Miss Swan,’ she says. Emma pulls her hand away.
There is a banging on the front door, and an anxious voice calls ‘Emma?’
‘I’m gonna go,’ Emma says, as the banging intensifies.
‘Yes, do, before they break my door down,’ Regina says. She makes no move to stand and escort Emma out, and she watches her walk out from her chair. Emma stops, right before she is out of sight.
‘And, Regina? Henry says hi. He misses you.’ Regina only nods in response, and Emma walks out. Soon there are only the sounds of the front door opening and closing, and then nothing.
Eleven
‘Walk,’ Regina mutters. ‘Go outside, she says.’
The forest at night is eerie and unwelcoming. Trees rustle behind her and wind tangles in her hair and makes her jump, and she wonders why she thought following Emma Swan’s idiotic advice was a good idea.
To be fair, she probably meant that Regina should take a walk around the local park in the daytime, but Regina does not feel safe venturing from her house when the residents of Storybrooke will be around. So, early morning walks in secluded areas it is.
She comes to a sudden halt when she spots a bright line of what looks like spray paint about ten feet in front of her. It cuts a sharp line across the trees and the leaves and the ground, an offensive splash in the otherwise beautiful forest. It takes a second to realise what it is, and when she does she leaps backward in fright.
The barrier. She hadn’t realised she had walked so far.
She has never visited it before, and once she gets over her initial shock, she walks closer. She can feel the hum of magic like rough cloth on her skin, and her own magic responds, pulling her even closer. She leans over, picks up a small stone and throws it. It flies though the air and leaves a faint smell of ozone behind when it flashes through the barrier. She wrinkles her nose.
‘What are you doing?’ She whips around to find Ruby standing right behind her, dirty and confused.
‘I could ask the same of you,’ she snaps, fighting the urge to place a hand over her fast-beating heart.
‘Full moon,’ Ruby explains. ‘Were you going to cross over?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she says, like the thought hasn’t crossed her mind a million times before.
Ruby shrugs.
‘I wouldn’t blame you,’ she says. ‘It would be easier, sometimes.’
Regina takes a closer look at Ruby, at her mud-stained clothes and dirty fingernails and sad eyes and... is that blood around her mouth?
Ruby wipes at her mouth when she notices Regina staring. ‘Rabbit,’ she explains. She absently licks the blood off her fingers and Regina watches, fascinated.
‘Well,’ she says finally. ‘Goodbye.’ She starts to walk away, back to where she parked her car, when Ruby’s voice stops her.
‘Wait.’ Please.’ Regina turns around to see Ruby jogging towards her, her movements smoothly coordinated and vaguely predator-like.
‘I’m sorry about your mom,’ Ruby says.
‘Thank you,’ Regina says tightly.
‘My mom was killed too. I killed her. For Snow.’ Ruby moves even closer and Regina can smell the heavy scent of wild animal clinging to her. She smells like upturned earth, like sweat and orchids, and Regina leans a little closer.
‘I killed her and just for a second, I was so angry. I killed my mother for my best friend. No one should have to do that.’
Regina wonders how Ruby is being so honest with her, so open and heart wrenchingly sincere, and she sees Ruby’s glazed and still-feral eyes. So, not completely human, yet.
‘How can you still love her?’ It is an honest question. Regina cannot imagine anything but more hate taking the place of what she feels now. Ruby raises a hand to scratch the back of her neck.
‘I don’t know. I don’t know how not to. Is that wrong?’ She is swaying on her feet, and Regina places a steadying hand under her elbow.
She thinks of Cora.
‘No.’
‘The first light of dawn filters through the trees, and Ruby jerks in her grip. She looks at Regina, and Regina can see that her eyes are already clearing. Becoming sharper, more lucid. Regina removes her hand. Steps back.
‘I can give you a ride home, if you want. I brought my car.’
Ruby studies her for a while, and Regina stands still. Lets the wolf-girl sniff for evil intent.
‘Okay.’
Fourteen
It takes her three days to screw up the courage to go to Dr. Hopper’s office.
She knocks, and enters to find him sitting at his desk. Pongo is lying by the floor at his feet and he bounds over to say hello as soon as he sees her.
‘Hello, Pongo,’ she says distractedly. Most of her attention is fixed on Dr. Hopper, who has stood up hastily to greet her.
‘Regina. This is a surprise.’
‘Dr. Hopper. I came to apologise. For how I treated you when you came to see me.’ He shoots her an awkward smile.
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘And I brought you these.’ She hands over the wrapped package in her hands. ‘Oatmeal cookies. I hope you like them.’
‘I do, very much. Thank you,’ he says.
‘Well, I must be going.’ She resettles her bag on her shoulder.
‘If you ever want to talk...’ he trails off.
‘No. Not now,’ she says. ‘But, maybe, another time.’ He nods.
‘Another time.’