A/N I got the inspiration for this story as I was driving to class in the rain listening to the song "Some Time Around Midnight" by The Airborne Toxic Event. I dearly apologize.

Note: This takes place in a city and Henry isn't in existence.

The steady strum of a chord echoes through the small bar followed by another, accompanied by heartbroken vocals of a man that will never be whole without his other half. There is the murmuring and occasional shouting of drunken men and women. The time is sometime around midnight, but it doesn't quite matter. Time is nothing to people that are drinking their lives away one glass at a time.

The blonde lifts her glass of amber liquid to her lips and sips it in a half dazed manner. She can faintly hear her friends cracking some joke about the man making a fool of himself across the room, but she is lost in the melodic notes that drift into her ears, into her soul.

She doesn't wish to think about it, but it drowns her.

"Emma?" the young woman looks up to see the most beautiful brunette she has ever laid her eyes on wearing a delicate, expensive black dress that is meant to turn heads, and heels that deem her the superior. She hasn't seen her in a while. Brown eyes hold that dark serenity that Emma always found comfort in. "It's nice to see you."

Emma's heart begins to beat like the pounding of a kick drum; it flies up into throat and she can hardly conjure up words.

"Regina, hi."

"How are you, my dear? It's been forever."

Her head is starting to swirl, but the alcohol isn't the culprit. The images of flesh against flesh that fit perfectly together burn into her brain. The scent of crisp apples invade her nostril so heavily that it seems to burn and nearly causes her to topple off the bar stool. As if it would offer balance, pale fingers clutch her glass for support and she lifts it to her lips to allow a long stream of whiskey to slip down her throat. The burn is soothing, calming, but that infuriating, gorgeous woman is still standing close to her. Using the alcohol as leverage, she pushes away all thoughts of sadness that are threatening to cave in on her and offers Regina a soft smile. She wishes to reach out and touch her. To press her palm against her soft, flawless skin.

"I'm fine. You?"

"I'm well."

They fall into an easy conversation about life. Emma is working her ass off still to pay the bills and during that time she finds time to come here. This particular night her friends had joined her and little did they know she was grateful for the company. The days had been far too lonely for her to handle.

Regina says nothing about her job, but Emma hopes that she is doing well.

The bartender has returned to fill her glass and she thanks him, turning back to find that Regina has taken interest in a man. She can't say a word; it isn't her place. She hears the brunette laugh and it thickens the air.

It wasn't supposed to end this way.

Green eyes close; they remain that way for a second longer, but that wasn't the smartest idea. Memories come flooding into her vision like cruel waves of an angry sea. Her body tingles and she can see the curves of the woman's bronze body, every dip, every bump of her spine. She can read her like a map without even opening her eyes.

But she has to open them eventually or else she might fall off of the stool again. When she does, she room is spinning with the haze of whiskey, music, and laughter.

Regina is gone.

The dim lights over the bar seem to be blinding and she can hear someone trying to get her attention, but her interest is on the brunette who is walking towards the exit with the same man. Her stomach is twisting in knots and she feels as if she is going to fall to pieces or perhaps that's just the alcohol trying to make its way up.

But the light catches the woman's face. It isn't Regina. Of course it isn't.

"Earth to Emma," says one of her friends and she looks over to meet Ruby's gaze, "you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

The blonde shivers as if a pile of snow has been dumped over her heart and it has frozen. Pick axes are hammering away at it in search of a missing piece that has decayed.

Pulling a wad of cash from her wallet, she stumbles away from the worried group, away from the music that is fading away as she drowns in this deep sea of despair.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

And they don't even know.

They have no idea what happened a year ago. Their secret affair.

The sun peeked through the curtains, but they had been awake for nearly an hour now. Their bare limbs were wrapped around each other's in a twisted knot of kisses, nips, and whispers. Red lips moved slowly against pale, pulling the blonde closer.

"I love you," Regina whispered into the hollow of her ear, stroking her back before slipping out of the sheets.

Green eyes watched the woman from her bed with a grin on her face. She had finally won her. A kid who had grown up with nothing had finally been given the most precious of gifts. Whatever did she do to deserve her?

"Can't you stay home today?"

"You know I can't do that, Emma."

Their eyes met as the older woman buttoned up her blouse slowly, one by one, her eyes twinkling with a flaming desire that only seemed to grow with each moment. She walked over towards the bed and leaned down, pressing her lips to the blonde's.

"Are you coming back tonight?" Emma asked between kisses.

"Of course, my dear."

The lights of the bar have turned into streetlights, the shadows they casted hang thick in the night. She can barely walk on her two feet and people stare at her strangely, but she doesn't notice. She too lost in her emotions, in her visions.

Her feet lead her across the same short cut that Regina used to take from work. It had been a busy day and she had told Emma she would be home late, but not to wait up for her.

Boots hit harshly and messily against the sidewalk, and she turns the corner onto the street she knew she should avoid, but it seems that her feet are unwilling to listen. She's almost home; just another block, but her knees threaten to give out.

She received the call sometime around midnight, stirring her from her sleep.

The ghost of sirens fills her ears. She can vividly see the ambulance waiting to receive the victim, but they already know there is no hope. The impact was too great.

Her hands curl into a fist as she recalls the drunken man in handcuffs. He was pleading to the police that he didn't see her. It was too dark, but the smell of whiskey is harsh on his breath. Emma had nearly beaten him to death, but the police had stopped her.

They asked her if she wanted to see the body, but she couldn't. She didn't need the sight of bloody gashes and mangled limbs to distort her memory of the brunette's perfect smile. Her perfect eyes. Flawless skin.

She barely makes it up the stairs before she falls onto hard corner, a hole tearing in her cheap jeans. She doesn't feel it. All she feels is the agony of losing the only person that ever meant something. The only person that truly ever cared enough to scale the walls of her stoned heart.

Yet no one else ever knew. It had been their little secret. Their little world to indulge when the whole world wasn't watching.

The entire world is crashing around her as her breathing becomes labored. Her vision is blurry and when she closes them all she sees is her. She can feel her. She can taste her.

Her accelerated heart echoes in her skull like a pounding bass and her pale hands grip at her greasy, golden locks. Her cries become just another sound in the void of the night. She is choking on them and if she were to drown then perhaps she could see her again, but life is cruel. It takes away breath from all those that deserve to have a chance.

She looks upwards towards the sky, searching the emptiness for stars, but the city lights are too bright. They are lost just as she.

Her forehead finds her knees and she whimpers through tears.

"Come home, Regina."