Chapter Text
confessions
She could hear it loud in her ears, above the sound of terror and chaos, her name being yelled out from across Main Street. With magic still buzzing in her fingertips, she whipped her head around and found herself face to face with another one of the hellish magical creatures that were attacking Storybrooke. Her instincts and quick reflexes had her shoving a magical force towards the large creature, hitting it in its middle, its weak spot. It cried out as it stumbled but did not fall, the ground shaking with its weight, and Emma thrust her hands forward again, determined to defeat the beast before it could cause any more harm to the town, to her friends and family, to her –
“Emma,” she heard, the booming of Regina Mills’ voice seeming to ricochet off the buildings when she called out for Emma. “Emma, duck.”
Emma’s heart pounded in her chest, like a war drum that grew louder and deadlier. With her eyes widening when she saw the stream of magic leaving Regina’s hands and heading her way, Emma ducked down to the ground, barely getting a glimpse of the horned beast behind her before Regina’s magic turned it into dark dust. Close call, she realized, feeling the whoosh and buzz of the magic next to her.
Emma lifted her hand to give Regina a thumbs up as she turned back toward her, toward the heavily breathing brunette whose eyes seemed alight when they met Emma’s, but what she saw out of the corner of her eye had her rushing up to her feet and charging toward Regina instead.
Coming from the opposite direction, the last of the creatures was also heading towards Regina. Nearly double her size in height and seven times her weight, Emma knew it was larger, knew it could cover more space than she could, knew that it could get to Regina before she would – but that did not stop her from using every drop of energy in her body to get to Regina, to move, to run so she could protect Regina. It was what she did. With everything going against her, Emma Swan would still fight to protect her loved ones.
“To your right,” she yelled, rushing to Regina and readying her magic.
Regina was quick to turn, to blast a force of bright light towards the creature. She took a defensive pose and raised her hands up, ready to fight – but Emma wasn’t going to let it get to that, already knew it was advancing too quickly and Regina’s magic wouldn’t take it down with one blast.
So Emma stopped running towards Regina and pulled all the magic she could towards her center, remembered everything Regina had ever taught her, everything she had ever read, everything she had ever learned, and used her strong need to protect Regina and keep her safe to fuel her magic. It built inside her like a tornado, whirling and growing until she screamed loudly to get the beast’s attention, until the horned beast stopped at the sound of her and its head turned her way. Yellow eyes glowed and flashed; it looked down at Emma like she was a tasty treat it couldn’t wait to sink its sharp teeth into.
“What the hell are you doing?” she could hear Regina yelling, that furious way she did whenever Emma was doing something she considered stupid.
“Saving your ass,” Emma called back, nodding at the beast and backing away when it started heading towards her. “What are you waiting for?” she yelled loudly, not taking her eyes off of it. “Huh? Come and get me.”
The ground shook a little as it took one step and then another, and soon it was picking up speed and she knew she had only one shot to get this right.
For a moment all the noise around Emma stopped.
Gone was the sound of the townspeople who hid behind buildings and cars.
Gone was the sound of Regina calling her name.
Gone was the sound of the hairy creature’s panting and footfalls.
Gone was the sound of Emma’s racing heartbeat.
She heard only one thing, only three words: Protect your family.
She had just the one shot, but she had no doubt that she could do it. She saw the damage the magical beasts had caused to the town, heard Henry’s scream when the first one had appeared while they were leaving Granny’s, saw the fire in Regina’s eyes when she protectively put an arm across Henry’s chest and gave Emma a nod, and Emma knew there was no option other than to destroy the beast.
The magic twister in her center was wild and powerful, and when Emma stopped moving and raised her hands, she pushed everything outward and felt the magic leave her body and rush towards the threat to her loved ones. She gave it everything she had, put all of her energy into it, because that was what she would always do. Even if it killed her, Emma would always put protecting her family first.
She tumbled down to the ground and the sound started slowly slipping back in – but as it did, her vision started going, the last thing she saw before her eyes fell shut being the magical dome of bright light that looked as if it buzzed with electricity.
She did it.
.
.
.
It was eerily quiet for Regina still as she watched Emma crumble, her head hitting the hard tar road after her legs appeared to give way under her weight. Regina’s stomach seemed to sink in the same fashion, hard and heavy. She clutched at her middle and swallowed thickly, stuck in place for a few rapid heartbeats. Emma looked almost lifeless there on the ground, completely drained, and it was seeing Emma that way which finally pushed Regina into motion. Without any more thought, she was quickly moving on impractical heels, rushing over to the woman who had put herself in front of danger to protect Regina. Again.
Heads peeked from behind the sides of buildings, from behind trees. The citizens of Storybrooke first searched to make sure their town was once again free of the large creatures that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and then, one by one, started running over to the middle of the street where Emma laid, powerless but not defeated. Regina pushed past them all, bumping into shoulders and glaring at anyone who dared to complain about her trying to get to the middle of what had quickly become a large crowd surrounding their savior, her... Emma.
“Regina,” she heard Snow breathe out as a hand wrapped around hers, quiet when everyone around them was loud with questions and concerns – and from those who dared, complaints. It was as though her presence brought some relief to the woman who kneeled down beside her unconscious daughter, like she knew there was someone who worried for Emma the same way she did, as more than the protector of the town but family.
Regina could feel it in her chest, and lower in her belly, the uncomfortable tightening of worry, of dread, but she kept a brave face. She needed to remain rational – because she knew Emma would be fine, knew that it was watching her fall to the ground that caused her worry, knew that Emma had expelled all the magic and energy in her system and that was the reason she was unconscious. She needed to remain calm – because she knew one of them had to be, and it was not Snow, not the mother whose eyes held all the worry Regina was trying to keep hidden. She needed to stay strong – because it was what Emma needed; she needed Regina’s quick thinking and smart decisions, not her emotions.
But none of that stopped her from joining Snow on the ground, expensive slacks dirtying without care. Her second hand reached out without thought, carefully stroking the side of Emma’s face. She was all right, but that did not stop Regina from recognizing that if one thing had gone wrong, if Emma hadn’t had enough power inside of her, there was a possibility that she wouldn’t be okay – and it would all be because somewhere inside Emma’s foolish, foolish head, she thought Regina was someone worth protecting, worth risking her own life for.
“We need to get her to Whale,” Snow said with certainty, determination slipping into her voice and strengthening it to that of the hopeful fighter Regina knew Snow to be.
Regina pulled her hand away from Emma’s face, as though she was suddenly realizing they were surrounded by people and she had been stroking the face of a friend more tenderly than one probably should. Her fingers curled into the palm of her hand and she brought it up to her face to cover her mouth as she cleared her throat and dragged her eyes away from Emma.
Snow had yet to look away from Emma, so there was a strong chance that she didn’t notice the open emotions that flitted across Regina’s face – but Regina noticed it, and she knew, as she had known for months now, that she needed to work harder on hiding how part of her felt softer and warmer around Emma.
“Whale?” Regina repeated with a scoff. Snow couldn’t possibly be serious. Turning to Whale for help with a magical reaction would make as much sense as them going to Doc – he might have the name, as Whale had the title, but Regina would not be letting either of them near Emma while she was in her current state. “You get a nasty rash, you go to Whale. Your stubborn daughter who thinks she needs to protect any and everyone all on her own loses consciousness because she drained herself of all her magic, you go to someone whose knowledge of magic isn’t as limited as your wardrobe. She doesn’t need a doctor, she needs...”
Snow turned her head to Regina, and even with everyone around them trying to speak over each other - -
“What were those things?”
“I thought we were safe!”
“Is the Savior going to be okay?”
- - for the moment that Snow’s eyes held hers, it was as though some type of quiet understanding was being shared. Snow nodded her head once, decidedly and sure, and lifted the hand that had previously been resting on Emma’s cotton-covered shoulder. “She needs you,” she said, that no-brainer kind of way, like of course, and gave Regina’s second hand a tight, encouraging squeeze, all the trust and faith she had in Regina there in her open eyes.
Regina still wasn’t used to it, to the unwavering trust, would never be used to it, but she gave a tight smile and her eyes automatically moved down to look at Emma. She’d seen Emma bruised and cut, broken on the inside so badly that she didn’t even look like herself. But the woman she felt compelled to help, to do something for, looked strangely comfortable for a person who laid on the ground unconscious, like even when not present in the moment she knew she had succeeded. Even so, the fact that Emma was unconscious and her power had not already restored itself caused a small twist in Regina’s gut because, whether Emma was physically hurt or not, Regina didn’t like seeing her laying there like that.
“Yes, she needs my help,” she said instead of agreeing, because agreeing that Emma needed her felt like too much, “and she needs to be somewhere quiet where half the town isn’t hovering over her like she’s Storybrooke’s prized pet and they’re waiting for her to do a trick.” Regina’s voice raised as she said the last part, hoping to plant seeds of guilt, her eyes narrowing as she lifted her head and made eye contact with several of the rambunctious citizens.
And then, without saying a word, Regina brought Emma and Snow away from the town’s center and to the place where Emma would want to be if she had any say in that moment. She brought them to Regina’s own home.
.
.
.
The principal and teachers at the school Emma completed most of the fourth grade in – school number five – said she was a trouble starter who could do much better if she stopped picking fights and turned in her homework. They didn’t know that her new foster home was always full of people screaming and the other kids there liked to push her around when their foster mom wasn’t looking. They didn’t find out the truth about the fights, didn’t look deeper than asking other students who didn’t know the truth about what was going on. They didn’t know that Emma had been picked on from the moment she introduced herself to the class that first day, dressed in clothes from when she was half-a-foot shorter. They didn’t know that Emma was defending herself, and they never tried to find out the truth. So Emma had grown to understand that people didn’t care about the truth – they believed what they wanted to believe.
That was also the year Emma met Rosaline, the girl who read alone at the end of the lunch table, hiding her chipped tooth and big glasses – and Emma had learned after taking the empty seat in front of her one day, one of the biggest hearts Emma would ever know someone to have. Rosaline had been Emma’s only friend, the only thing that kept her from hating that school, being with that family, and life itself. She knew there must have been somebody before Rosaline, but Emma couldn’t remember anyone ever treating her with genuine care, wanting to really be her friend and not just saying so to later make fun of her for clinging to the possibility of someone actually choosing her.
They had been inseparable, the way any two outcasts were when they found each other. They laughed as they did their homework together during recess – because Rosaline actually listened when Emma told her about how she never had any space at the small house, and how there were never any quiet moments – and swapped books that they left notes tucked in with comments about their favorite parts. They made matching beaded bracelets, and for the few months Emma had been in that school, it was Rosaline and Emma against the world.
So when Emma found a group of bullies that she knew all too well cornering Rosaline in the playground, she practically resembled a cartoon character with white streams of steam blowing out of her ears and nostrils. She’d been labeled a trouble starter from the start, a fighter, but that had been the first time Emma truly saw red, the first time she wanted to punch someone and make them hurt. When she sat in the principal’s office that day, a scratch on her cheek but not a mark on Rosaline beside her, she didn’t care that she was going to get in trouble. She’d been labeled as a problem student since the start, and if she was protecting her best friend in the process, she didn’t mind earning the label. But her foster mom did, didn’t like having to leave “work” (read: the sofa) to pick up Emma again because of bad behavior. So she was sent back to the orphanage, and that was the last day she saw Rosaline. But it was also the day Emma decided that protecting those who were important to her would always come first. No matter the outcome, no matter how it would affect her, she needed to protect the people she cared about.
For a long while, though, there was nobody she was close to, nobody she would bloody her knuckles or stand up to a bully for.
But then there was Henry, and her mom, and her dad, and her baby brother, and...
Emma’s eyes popped open with a gasp, like the air from her lungs had been sucked out quickly and then pushed back in instantly. Her brain flooded with the last images she saw before her head hit the ground and she started feeling far away from her body. Main Street, the beasts, her magic, Regina’s magic, Regina.
“Regina,” she said with another sudden gasp, trying to sit up but realizing her mother’s hand was on her arm. Everybody was there – Snow, David, Henry, all of their eyes watching her, her family by her side – but Emma looked past them all, because they were safe, but she didn’t know about Regina. She was in Regina’s living room, so that had to mean something. “Where’s Regina? Is she all right? Where–”
“Would you relax?! I’m right here.”
There had never been a more soothing sound than the rich tone of Regina’s voice, even when Emma could almost hear the eye roll that came with Regina’s reassurance. Everyone was all right, and that was all Emma needed to know.
Emma tilted her head back and looked towards the entryway. Regina raised her brow when their eyes met, and Emma grinned dopily at her. “Hey.”
The tiniest of smiles tried to make an appearance on Regina’s lips; there was a small twitch at the corner of her mouth. But Regina huffed instead of smiling as she uncrossed her arms and straightened up. “You do not get to ‘hey’ me like everything is all right, Emma,” she told her with a pointed finger. “Everything is not all right. How many times must we talk about you putting yourself in danger before–”
“She was protecting the town,” David reminded in a louder voice than Regina’s, just so she would bring hers down because it was growing louder with each word she said.
Emma ignored her father, though, and felt her smile fall down to a frown as she forced herself up to a sitting position, two pairs of hands trying to help when she didn’t need it, and Henry giving her shoulder a squeeze and a smile once she was upright. Henry had heard this back and forth between Regina and Emma more than anyone, their roles switching depending on which of them had put herself in danger. He knew better than to jump in the middle of it, probably knew what Emma knew, that they needed to say these things to each other because they both felt like the other didn’t know how valuable they were.
“Listen,” Emma started, but she was cut off by Regina shaking her head and approaching her, face set with determination, eyes locked on Emma’s, serious and, hidden beneath everything else, there was worry she probably thought nobody could see – but Emma saw it.
“No, you listen to me. What you did out there was stupid and–”
“Regina,” Snow said in a high-pitched voice, turning her head quickly away from Emma and looking at her. “What she did out there was incredibly brave,” she said, squeezing Emma’s knee, “and it probably saved yours and everybody else’s life.”
Emma ignored what her mother had to say, just as she had with her father. Emma didn’t look away from Regina, didn’t argue against her. Emma waited, waited for Regina to say what she had to say before she spoke.
Regina scoffed in response to Snow and rolled her eyes dramatically. “That overgrown gorilla could have ripped her apart in seconds if something had gone wrong. She taunted a 800-pound beast with claws, and you think that’s brave? That was reckless and dangerous, and she could have gotten hurt. Then what?” Regina turned back to Emma and asked, in that tone she used when she was trying to sound disappointed and angry but all she really sounded was scared, “What were you thinking?”
Emma stayed quiet, and so Regina raised her brow in an exaggerated manner.
“Oh,” Emma said, “I can speak now?”
Regina’s eyes narrowed, and Emma couldn’t resist the small smirk she gave in response. But she knew Regina was more than just mad at her, knew that there was probably a moment or two where she was mostly just worried and scared, and she knew she wouldn’t have shared those feelings with anyone and would have tried keeping it all in. So Emma didn’t poke fun too much, because she knew what it was like to be the one worried and trying to keep a brave face.
“Do you want me to say that I’m sorry for trying to protect you? Because I’m not.”
Regina stiffened a little and pulled at her blouse and brushed away wrinkles or lint or whatever was there that only she could see.
“That thing could have shish-kabobed you on one of its horns, or flattened you like a pancake, or–”
“Please, no more food references,” Henry muttered from beside her.
Emma glanced at him and shrugged her shoulder a little. “Magical battles make me hungry.” She patted her stomach, and Henry screwed up his face.
“My point is,” she said as she turned back to look at Regina, “you were already in danger, and I wasn’t just going to sit there and watch you get hurt.”
“I don’t need you to protect me,” Regina told her, stubborn as ever.
Emma shrugged. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing if the roles were reversed,” she challenged. “Maybe you would have come up with a smarter plan, because, yes, I admit taunting the thing might have been a little stupid, but when it comes down to it, if you had been in my position, you would have tried to save me, even if it meant something could have happened to you. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Regina’s lips parted, but no sounds left her mouth even as her lips moved as if readying to push words out. Regina’s brow wrinkled and, after Emma raised an eyebrow to make her point, she huffed and clamped her lips tightly.
“Exactly.”
“Regina,” Snow said gently, “I think all Emma is saying is that she did what any of us would have done. We have a town that needs our protection, and a family to keep safe. Businesses were damaged, cars... Storybrooke is our home, and we have to do whatever it takes to make sure our home is a safe place for all of us,” she said, looking from Emma to Regina, and then glancing at David and Henry.
“Don’t you think I know that? I’m perfectly aware of the damage done to Storybrooke, as I am aware that, whether they appreciate it or not, we have promised our protection to those who live here. My issue isn’t with Emma trying to protect Storybrooke, it’s, it’s...” Regina trailed off with a heavy breath, dropping her eyes and suddenly looking uncomfortable.
Snow looked like she was waiting for Regina to continue, but Emma knew she wouldn’t. Emma wasn’t sorry for what she did, wouldn’t have done anything differently if given the chance to. However, Emma was sorry for something. She was sorry for making Regina worry about her. She didn’t know if she had always worried this way, or if it was something new, but Emma wasn’t used to it and didn’t like it – not because it didn’t feel good to know someone cared, but because Regina’s worry wouldn’t stop her from putting others first, and that worry usually multiplied when Emma was in danger.
Emma cleared her throat. “I’m fine,” she said quietly, looking at Regina. Regina’s eyes were lowered to the ground, so she waited, and waited, and waited for Regina to look at her. Emma tilted her head and smiled gently at her. “I’m fine,” she repeated, like she knew that was what Regina needed to hear.
Everybody’s eyes were on Regina, but Regina’s were on Emma, silently holding her gaze.
“You better be,” she said seriously.
And although nobody but Emma smiled in response – grinned broadly, really – everybody could feel the shift in the room as things settled.
.
.
.
Regina gripped the edge of the sink with both hands and let her head fall between her shoulders, her spine curved as she pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Emma had only been awake for roughly twenty minutes and already the Charmings were driving Regina up a wall with all of their fussing over Emma and congratulating her for what she’d done. If Regina had to hear about the safety of the town one more time, she swore she would–
No, Regina mentally told herself, shaking her head and taking another deep breath. She cleared the negative thoughts away slowly with each strong inhale and long exhale.
“You know, you don’t have to use excuses to get away from us when you need a moment to yourself.”
The air she’d just pulled in rushed back out. “I thought I told you to stay seated while I came to get you something to drink.” Regina groaned lowly, squeezing around the cold sink with even more pressure. “And if you knew I needed a moment alone, what are you doing in here?”
Emma pulled open the fridge – far too comfortable in her house, Regina thought, even as she secretly liked how at home Emma acted in Regina's house – and rummaged through it, most likely making a mess of Regina’s neatly stacked Tupperware and organized vegetables. If there was one thing Regina could count on, it was Emma bringing disorder where Regina tried to keep things in neat little boxes with proper labels.
“I came to tell you that you can stop hiding out now. Now that they know I’m okay, and Zelena confirmed that the portal is gone, they want to go get the little one from the convent. Your sneaky kid found a way to get ice cream out of them, so he tagged along. They said they'll have him home for dinner.”
“I wasn’t hiding,” Regina protested stiffly as she turned around, leaning against the counter. “I’m waiting for the kettle. And if his appetite is ruined, you’re both going to be in trouble for that.”
Emma gave her a disbelieving look and took the container she’d just removed from the fridge over to the island. “Right. You’ve been in here for five minutes already. But you’re not hiding. Nope.”
Regina rolled her eyes at Emma’s sarcasm.
“Anyway, he’s my kid, too. He’s going to be hungry again soon.”
Regina hummed and watched her pull off the top from her bowl and dig her fork into the cold pasta. Regina’s nose scrunched up with distaste. “That is disgusting.”
Emma raised her eyes from her food, hunched over a little, but still she filled her mouth with linguine. “I’m hungry,” she said with her mouth full, chewing.
“I have a microwave.”
Emma stared blankly at Regina, chewing quietly.
Regina shook her head and walked over to the island. She snatched the bowl away from Emma, ignoring her grumbled protests and her trying to steal another forkful, and brought it to the microwave herself, wondering how this was the woman she sometimes found herself wanting a future with – a future she would never have, but still one she often couldn’t stop herself from imagining when she was left alone with too much time on her hands.
“You know, the pasta’s just as good cold as it is hot.”
Regina glanced over her shoulder for a quick second. “If you’re going to eat my food without even asking for it first, you’ll at least have it the way it’s meant to be eaten.”
The kettle began loudly whistling a few moments later, so Regina turned to get it, only to find Emma already up from her stool and heading towards the stove. “I’ve got it.”
“You’re supposed to be sitting down,” Regina sighed, brushing past Emma and carefully taking the kettle from her hand. “Go,” she said, nodding her head back to the island. “Sit.”
Emma rolled her eyes and didn’t listen. “I told you, I’m fine. My head doesn’t even hurt.”
“Must I remind you that you not only completely drained your supply of magic, you took a nasty fall in the middle of the street?”
Regina’s hand tightened around the handle of the kettle as the image of Emma, crumbled and still, forced itself to the forefront of her mind. An uncomfortable twist in her belly became noticeable a mere second later, and she forced herself to push the feeling away.
“I’ve seen you go through a freaking clock tower and get up and walk away. Are you seriously going to treat me like a child like my parents just did because I fell?”
Regina ignored Emma and pulled out a mug, only speaking to her once the microwave beeped. “Enjoy my pasta.”
Emma stood there with her arms crossed for a moment, staring down the unbothered Regina. But when Regina just continued making Emma her tea, Emma huffed and stomped her foot a bit before walking away. Regina rolled her eyes, but a small smirk twitched at her lips as she watched Emma out of the corner of her eye.
When the tea was done, she set the mug in front of Emma and then leaned against the side of the island. “I should warn you before you drink it–”
“You spiked it with something gross, didn’t you?” Emma asked as she pulled the tea to her and frowned, looking into the mug like it held bubbling mud instead of something that would help heal her.
“Just a small dosage of a rejuvenation potion. It’ll give your magic a little...kick that should help wake it up.”
Emma turned her nose up and pushed it away. “Yeah, I’m going to pass. It took me a week to get the taste of that last potion out of my mouth.”
“Must you make even the simplest of things so difficult, Emma?”
“I don’t see you rushing to drink any of your nasty potions,” Emma said like she was making the best point that could be made, pointing her fork at Regina and everything.
“That would be because I’m not the one who can’t feel my magic anymore,” Regina countered, and then, because she could, she waved a hand between them and a bear claw appeared. “See?”
Emma licked her lips hungrily, even as she twirled her fork in the linguine. “I see you’re trying to bribe me, yes,” Emma said, eating her pasta but eyeing the pastry.
Predictable, so very predictable. Regina picked up the bear claw and pulled off a small piece and slowly put it in her mouth, the sweet icing sticking to her fingers. She hummed in delight, mostly for show, but genuinely enjoying the unhealthy snack that Emma was so fond of. Emma chewed her pasta and watched Regina and the pastry very carefully, like she was worried it would disappear before she had a chance to have any of it. Regina merely lifted an eyebrow and waited, sucking her thumb clean instead of wiping her hands with a napkin or washing them like she usually would – it made Emma’s cheeks darken with a slight flush, and, well, Regina took pleasure in small things like that.
“Well?”
Emma ran her teeth over her lip and looked away, towards her tea. “Fine,” she agreed, “but I’m not doing it because you think sugary treats work on me all the time.”
“So you won’t mind if I finish this, then, will you?”
“Don’t even think about it! You can’t dangle something I love in front of me and then not even let me have it. Jeez. I didn’t say I don’t want it, you damn tease. I just said it’s not the reason.”
Regina held in a chuckle as Emma practically ripped the soft pastry from her hand, making the icing spread over both of their fingers. “Whatever the reason, do make sure you drink it all.”
Emma took a large bite from the bear claw and then put it down on the dessert plate it had appeared on. She went back to watching Regina as she chewed, thoughtfully, like she was trying to figure something out. It made Regina feel slightly unsettled, so she removed herself from the situation, knowing that sometimes what she needed most from Emma was space.
Regina turned on the water to wash her hands, licking the sweetness from one more finger before properly cleaning her hands. The rush of warm water and the lemony scent of the soap combined made her sigh and relax, her shoulders feeling lighter as the tension left them.
“I know my mom wanted to bring me to the hospital,” she heard over the sound of the water, and although Regina was finished washing her hands, she didn’t shut it off. “Thanks for bringing me here instead.”
Regina scrubbed between her fingers as she searched for words to say in response. Did she need to explain that she knew how much Emma hated doctors and wouldn’t have let Snow make that decision for her? Should she pretend like she didn’t understand that Emma would rather have taken care of herself than have someone else do it? Did she act as if all the little things she picked up during conversations, during their alone time, from just knowing Emma weren’t filed away in her brain, in a neat folder with the rest of the important things she made sure to remember about Emma?
The space between her thumb and index finger became sore and red by the time she settled on words to say.
“I know it was what you would have wanted,” she said simply – and maybe not so simply at all.
“Of course you did,” Emma said softly, like she was smiling.
Regina looked over her shoulder. Emma was smiling, looking down into her mug, cheeks lightly colored, body perfectly relaxed. And Regina couldn’t look away. She should. Oh, how she knew she should. But she couldn’t.
Emma was beautiful, and Regina spent too much time trying to ignore that to look away this time.
She was enraptured.
.
.
.
Maybe there hadn’t been enough of the potion inside her tea, because Emma kept trying to make something happen, and all she was getting was a whole lotta nothing. There was no spark, no rush, not even that tingling she felt in her fingertips when her emotions were out of control and her magic tried to escape without her consent. Regina said she just needed to give it time, but Emma was starting to doubt that time could fix this – time never did much for her anyway; it was always action that worked.
Emma flopped back on the bed she was sitting on and looked at her hands, normal, ordinary, magicless hands. She held them above her face and scrutinized them, followed lines that marked her palms, stretched her fingers out wide and looked between them, flipped them over and stared at her knuckles and veins like they held the answer to her latest issue. They weren’t where she felt her magic forming normally, but they were the tools she used to wield it. She was starting think that maybe there was something wrong with them.
She frowned. Her brow furrowed.
Three soft knocks on the door made her quickly shove her hands underneath her thighs as she sat up, though, looking at the door. “Yeah?”
It slowly pushed open, just an inch or two. “You’ve been up here for three hours and I haven’t heard any noise from downstairs. I thought it would be wise to check on you.”
Emma snorted and fell back down on the bed, really seeing the guest room for the first time since she closed herself in it. Since she stepped in, she’d been trying to start up her magic and little else had warranted her attention. It was probably stupid to think it, maybe, but she had thought that if she went somewhere she felt at ease, calm, she would have a better chance getting her magic to work. Even here, in the room she had sorta, without really noticing, filled with her stuff over the last half of the year and claimed as her own for when she needed a place to sleep, which was more often than not, Emma still couldn’t figure out what was wrong.
“I thought you wanted me to rest?” Emma asked as she sat up on her elbows, shaking her hair out so it fell down behind her, a wavy mess that undoubtedly looked twice as untamed as it had when they were fighting those beasts. She ran her fingers through it a lot when she was thinking, and messed it up, and just– well, it had looked better when she left her house that morning. “Isn’t that why you sent me up here?”
“And since when do you actually do as you’re told? Should I be expecting you to be more cooperative from here on out? Because I have a long list of things we need to discuss if that’s the case,” Regina said with a small smirk, pushing the door open further so it wasn’t blocking her.
She’d changed out of her office clothes, Emma noticed, and washed her hair. She finally looked like she was at home, no longer as though she was waiting for a call saying they needed to rush out of the house because something else had happened. She looked comfortable, and Emma knew from experience how rare it was that she actually felt that way. Emma liked it.
She smiled softly at Regina and raised her shoulders up a little. “I’ve learned that sometimes it pays to listen to some of your unreasonable commands.”
Regina shook her head, a little bit of mirth twinkling in her eyes, and then leaned it against the door frame. “I suggested that you rest – which is far from being unreasonable. It was for your own good. Has - -?” Regina gestured with her hand towards Emma’s own, making a noise inside of her throat instead of using words.
Emma shook her head, frowning, balling her hands into fists as they now laid on her lap.
“It’s only temporary,” Regina assured her, looking down at Emma’s hands thoughtfully. Her eyebrows knitted together like they sometimes did, and Emma knew something was on her mind.
Emma raised her brow, watching Regina curiously. “What?”
“Hmm?” Regina lifted her eyes to meet Emma’s suddenly and shook her head like she was trying to get rid of a thought, or maybe an idea. “Oh, nothing. I was...” She pursed her lips and crossed her arm around her body. “Never mind.”
The bed sheets rustled underneath Emma as she sat up and moved on the bed, folding her legs and resting her elbows on her thighs. Emma had spent a lot of her time around Regina lately. It had started after they returned from New York earlier in the year and soon discovered that the part of Regina that they believed to had been destroyed, the darkest parts of her, was walking the streets of Storybrooke. There was a mutual need to protect each other, their families, and anyone else the queen without a conscious had gone after, and they had been determined to work together to do whatever it took to keep their loved ones safe. And even once Regina’s two halves were safely joined, Emma had stuck around. So by now, Emma considered herself an expert on Regina’s little tells. This was why she simply sat and waited, knowing Regina was going to say something. She just needed to find the words she thought were best.
Emma could wait. She was good at that, good at letting things just happen even when she didn’t know how long it would take.
Regina flexed her hands as she shifted on her feet and looked around the bedroom. Emma followed her eyes’ movement. The trunk at the foot of the bed was covered with folded jeans and a few shirts. The closet door was open, and inside were jackets that hung neatly on hangers. In the corner of the room, next to the window, there was an armchair, and in its seat there was the book Emma had been reading the last time she stayed the night. Regina didn’t comment on any of it, but she slowly took in every surface, every spot, and Emma wondered if maybe she had too much stuff there, too much lying around the room. But Regina didn’t look bothered – intrigued by something unknown to Emma, perhaps, but not bothered.
Regina looked over her shoulder to the hallway and then turned back to look at Emma. “There’s a supply of candles in the bathroom that I’ve just restocked earlier in the week. Feel free to take a look and see if there are any that you like.”
A slow smile spread across Emma’s face in response. What might have sounded like a simple comment to anyone else felt like an invitation to Emma, that you’re welcomed here that wasn’t put into those exact words but was hidden in between the ones Regina had chosen to say making her feel less like an intruder, less like someone who was taking up too much space. She remembered mentioning during a conversation they had a long while ago how she used to light candles and read in the middle of the night when she was stressed before she came to Storybrooke – which was often – and she briefly wondered if Regina remembered that.
“Thanks,” Emma said softly. “I’ll check them out later.” Regina nodded and looked around again, like she was trying to find a reason to stay. Emma rolled her eyes internally and patted the bed with her hand. “You don’t have to stand all the way over there like I’m contagious or something. Come in. Sit with me. Help me stop obsessing over the fact that I’m broken.”
Regina looked slightly surprised by the invitation and almost smiled as she started walking in. But then at the last part, Regina’s lips pulled downward instead and she huffed out a breath. “You’re not broken, Emma. What did you tell me when I was in your situation just four months ago?”
She looked down at the bed for what felt like several long minutes, her brow wrinkling a bit like it sometimes did when she was contemplating something. It was only a few seconds, of course, but it felt much longer to Emma as she waited for Regina to take a seat. When she didn’t, Emma shook her head and pulled her down to the bed herself, wrapping a hand around Regina’s wrist and guiding her as she started speaking.
“That was different. I may not be an expert when it comes to all of this, but I’m pretty sure being separated from part of yourself and then going through all that we went through to get you, uh, well, you you again is a lot more serious than me taking down a few stinky beasts. All the crap that went wrong, the struggles... You not feeling your magic was understandable. This...” Emma trailed off with a sigh as she wiggled her useless fingers in front of her.
Regina reached over as if she was going to cover Emma’s hands with her own, but she pulled her hand back almost as quickly as she had reached out. Somehow, Emma thought she could still feel the warmth of her skin on her and stilled her fingers.
“Every situation is different. You can’t compare one to another, nor should you feel like there is a minimum amount of complications that need to occur for it to be seen as acceptable for something to go wrong with your magic. As I’ve said many times, magic in this world can be less reliable than it is in other realms. It doesn’t make you broken.
"In case you have forgotten, it took over a month for me to once again feel comfortable using my magic, and several weeks for me to even consider it an option."
Emma knew that what Regina was saying was true, but she still wished she could feel it, even just a little bit of the magic that was normally right there when she needed it. It had become a part of her that she was used to, a part of her that she didn’t rely on but liked knowing was there. Regina had experienced the same thing, not being able to tap into what she knew was there even though she could not feel it; Emma now wondered if she had felt as uncertain, and sorta lost, like Emma was starting to feel.
“If I could just...”
Emma chewed on the corner of her lip silently and tried to focus, tried to build up her magical energy. She felt like she was reaching for something miles away.
Regina watched for a moment and then smiled, placing her hand on Emma’s knee as she shifted on the bed. “Don’t strain yourself, Emma. When the time is right, it will happen, you know that.”
And that was when she felt it, just a small spark, barely-there but warm and familiar and magical. She looked down to the hand on her knee and then up to Regina, meeting her eyes. “I feel,” she started, but when Regina’s hand pulled away, the feeling that had slowly started to appear fizzled out and it was gone again, nothing. So instead of continuing and answering the question in Regina’s eyes, she sighed with disappointment and shook her head. “False alarm.”
Regina frowned and looked down at Emma’s knee, as if she was also aware of the spark her touch had created. Had she been? “It won’t last forever. Your magic is inside of you. Right now there might be something blocking it, but it will always be there.”
Emma heard the words, but she was too busy trying to figure out if the hand on her knee had caused the spark or if it had just been a coincidence to say anything more than, “I know,” in response.
It was quiet in the bedroom for a few minutes after that, the entire house sounding silent and empty.
“Will you be staying tonight?” Regina asked, and with the lack of conversation, her question sounded sudden and as though it had just popped out of nowhere.
Emma still answered immediately, for there was only one answer to that question. “Of course. I’m starving.”
Regina rolled her eyes, but Emma saw the amusement as it pulled at the brunette’s lips and the creases at the corners of her eyes deepened. “You’re hardly starving after eating just three hours ago.”
Emma shrugged her shoulders and then fell back on the bed, laying on her back and patting her stomach. She turned her head so she was facing Regina. “Maybe not starving, but I wouldn’t say no to food. And I’m not convinced everything is safe yet. I wanted to talk to you about checking for portals. Today could have gone a lot worse, and we weren’t really prepared.”
Regina nodded in agreement. “After dinner. I’ll call Zelena and find out what she discovered, and then you and I can–”
“Come up with a safety plan,” Emma suggested. “Everyone running around in chaos earlier wasn’t exactly ideal. It’s not like this was the first time something out of the ordinary – if we can even call it that now – happened here, and it won’t be the last. Even if it’s just finding somewhere safe to go when shit goes down, everyone should know that there are better options than running around like we’re under attack in some crazy movie. I think they could manage a little more order, you know?”
Regina nodded once again. Emma could get used to Regina agreeing with her.
“And I think I’m going to spend the night, if that’s okay with you. I’d feel better knowing that if something happened...”
Regina did not agree this time. “If something were to happen, I would be able to take care of the situation. I was serious earlier when I said I don’t need you to protect me.”
Emma rolled her eyes and moved onto her side, closer to Regina. She plucked absently at the comforter as she spoke. “Then let me protect our son. If you’re not going to let me be there for you, let me at least be here for Henry.” She smiled hopefully and waited.
She didn’t have to wait long at all for Regina to give her the nod she was looking for as she said, “For Henry.”
Emma grinned a wide grin, a little smug. “And if I just so happen to save your ass in the process one more time, well, who’s going to complain about that?”
Regina swatted Emma’s thigh and hid her smile – or at least tried to. Emma reached down and captured Regina’s hand with her own, impulsive and having a sudden urge for a deeper connection. She looked away from the slightly widening eyes that were now searching her own as she did so. Sometimes there felt like there were a lot of questions between them that were never asked, but Emma didn’t think they really needed to be, not when more was said between them in the silence than it was when they were speaking.
“I should get started on dinner,” Regina said quietly and started pulling her hand away from Emma’s, not enough to actually leave but enough to show intent.
Emma nodded understandingly, but she tightened her grip on Regina’s hand instead of letting it go. “I wouldn’t have done anything differently out there, you know? Even knowing my magic would mess up and everything...” Emma shrugged her shoulder, eyes focused on the way her thumb looked as it brushed Regina’s knuckles. Her skin was soft, the bones hard, and Regina sighed ever so slightly at the contact, another thing she tried to hide that Emma noticed. “Maybe you don’t get it, but you’re too important to me for me to lose you.”
Her breath catching was Regina’s only response, and Emma dared to look up to see her face. Such an expressive face Regina had, and Emma could see just about every possible emotion fighting to be the one to be on it. Emma’s stomach felt tight and heavy, but she didn’t look away, didn’t take the words back. They’d been through a whole lot together, and Emma didn’t stop seeing the positive impact Regina had on her life, and she wouldn’t let Regina forget it either. When Emma brought it up, Regina was normally quick to try to cancel out every good thing she had done with something bad, but it never changed the way Emma saw her, didn’t make any difference to Emma.
“Whether you want my protection or not, you’ve got it. It doesn’t mean I don’t know you can take care of yourself – hell, I know the power and strength and fight in you and know better. It doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re a kickass partner,” she said, smiling a little when Regina’s mouth twitched. Emma licked her lips and squeezed Regina’s hand as she said, “It just means you mean something to me and it would hurt me a lot more to see you getting hurt out there than it would if I was the one getting hurt.
“I know you probably think it’s a savior thing, or about you being Henry’s other mother – or maybe you think this is me thinking I need to protect everyone. But it’s not. It’s... It’s just you. I like what we’ve built together, you know. I’ve never had a friendship that meant to me as much as this one does, or a friend who means as much to me as you do. I–”
“Emma,” Regina interrupted, sighing her name, a pleading look in her eyes that Emma didn’t really understand.
Emma frowned and sat up, not untangling her hand from Regina’s. In fact, she took their joint hands into her second, wrapped around it so that she was holding Regina’s one hand between both of hers. Regina looked down at their hands, but Emma leaned forward, closer, bending her head down and meeting Regina’s eyes. “Hey,” she said softly.
Regina gave her a confused look, her eyebrows knitting together. Her mouth opened like she wanted to speak, but she just looked at Emma, deep deep deep into her eyes. Emma forced herself not to look away.
And she said nothing, neither of them did, the silence too precious to destroy with useless words.
.
.
.
Regina didn’t remember laying down beside Emma, or falling asleep beside her. Given that she had a difficult time sleeping around most, it was a surprise that she had. But Emma was still holding her hand between the two of them, not letting go even as they slept. It was a sight that caused a wave of emotions to sweep through Regina that she wished she didn’t feel – for they felt too strong, too good, and it would be foolish to welcome something she knew could easily be taken away.
She sighed, knowing she should untangle their hands and leave Emma’s bed. But once again with Emma, Regina did not what she knew she should but what she wanted. She closed her eyes and relaxed, unable to turn off the voice that told her why lingering was a bad idea but choosing to ignore it for once. She had long accepted her feelings for Emma and knew that there would be no more between them than a friendship, so maybe there truly was no harm in allowing herself to enjoy these simple pleasures, the moments where Emma surprised her by initiating contact between them just when Regina had wished she were allowed (and willing) to reach out to her.
The last five months had been eye-opening for Regina. She’d gone from denying her feelings for Emma to hoping they would go away to accepting that they wouldn’t. She had learned how important the Charmings were to her, all of them, when there was a chance she could lose them but they stood by her side and fought with her, for her, instead of saving themselves. She had learned some truths about herself, about who she was at her core and how every layer of herself was important and necessary. She had developed a stronger bond with all of those she considered part of her family and witnessed how far their love for her really went, how much she meant to the people Regina would easily sacrifice herself to protect. (Seeing time and time again how quickly they would do whatever they could to keep her safe was unsettling, something she still did not do well accepting, but it was something that was undeniable.)
In the last five months, she had lost but gained much more – and a big part of what she had gained was right beside her.
Another sigh left her lips and Emma groaned, the sheets rustling a little.
“You’re quieter when you sleep,” Emma mumbled.
Regina’s eyes opened and, startled, she jerked away from Emma – attempted to, at least.
“No, stay,” Emma said tiredly, pulling Regina back when she tried to move.
Emma’s face looked soft and sleepy, perfectly relaxed, and there was more color in her cheeks than there had been when she brought Emma to her house earlier. Regina slowly lowered her head back down to the mattress and focused on that, on the life that was pouring back into Emma, on how much better she looked after proper rest.
Regina’s heart was beating a little faster than it should, thumping in her chest. She should leave. She should get up and make dinner. There was no reason to be laying in bed with Emma Swan. Except –
Emma smiled sleepily and brought their joint hands closer to her, holding them against her chest, like one would hold something they wanted to protect and keep close. “Don’t leave me.”
Regina’s heart stopped racing and ached instead, like someone was squeezing it in their fist. “Emma?”
Emma’s nose wiggled and she shook her head, holding their hands even closer to her chest. “I know. I’m clingy when I’m sleepy. Don’t tell anybody. Go to sleep and you'll forget about it."
Regina smiled a little. Henry was the same way when he was younger. Getting him to sleep on his own had been difficult for her because he had wanted to be in her arms all the time, or practically on top of her, his small body draped across her.
“I just don’t want you to go,” Emma whispered.
Regina swallowed. “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, and the words sounded heavy with multiple meanings that Emma probably didn’t understand and Regina knew she shouldn’t promise.
She sighed and closed her eyes, determined to think of anything other than Emma and how she could get used to the way it felt when Emma held her hand.
But, even though she tried, “You’re too important for me to lose you,” was all she could think about.