So, here we are again. This damn story just won't leave me alone, so here it is. Damn this thing, and fuck my drunken whore of a muse for refusing to do anything else. This is a test run just to see what happens and the sort of response I get. All I know is that I haven't been able to write anything of substance (or complete anything) since I wrote The Color Red because it just doesn't freaking feel done. So, let's see what happens, shall we?

Enjoy!

Song: She Used to be Mine by Sara Bareilles

She's different. Her parents may have broken The Savior with the arrival of their son. Her behavior erratic and disconnected. Everyone sees it, but no one can help her. No one knows how. She is the perfect distraction, and with her help, I will rule Storybrooke.

Two Months After Emma Returns

The cold wind burned her face, just like the night she'd saved Ruby from the chimera venom. Her steps faltered, almost slipping on a patch of ice. As quickly as the breathtaking emotions swelled, they disappeared, and The Savior continued her chase. The kid rounded the corner of the cannery only a few meters ahead, and she pushed her burning legs and aching lungs a little bit harder. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice reminded her that the kid couldn't have been more than 14 or 15, but the agony in her heart tackle the boy to the frozen sidewalk. The plastic bottle in his hand skittered across the snow-covered road. Dumbass kid shouldn't have stolen from the pharmacy while she was buying cough drops.

He rolled beneath her and threw up his hands defensively. "I'm sorry, Sheriff Swan. My mom's sick." His quivering voice barely impacted her growing rage. She flipped him over again and clicked cuffs around his wrists, ignoring the protests as they imprinted on his skin.

"Emma," David called as he finally caught up to them in the squad car. He scooped the bottle of cough syrup out of the street and jogged over to them, his breath white streams against the darkening sky. "Emma, stop, it's just a bottle of cough syrup."

"David, my mom's sick," the kid explained again.

"Shut up," Emma barked and shoved his head against the frozen cement.

"Ralph?" David grabbed his daughter's shoulder and very nearly flung her to the pavement in his haste to uncuff the boy. "What are you doing, man?" The deputy helped him to his feet, doing his best to ignore the red marks cut into his wrists.

"Mom's really sick. I just wanted to help her sleep," he explained, tearful and snotty in his guilt and shame.

David's hard gaze landed on his daughter as he handed the medicine back to the kid along with a twenty. "Go pay for this. If she needs anything else you ask me, okay? No more stealing."

"Thanks, David. I'm s-s-sorry, Sheriff." He waited for a moment, but Emma had already stalked towards the cruiser, swiping bits of slush and snow from her jeans and jacket. It was way too cold for just that one leather coat, but he'd not seen her wear anything else but gloves and a hat when the wind picked up off the ocean.

"Just go," David ordered and followed his daughter. He grabbed her arm as she opened the driver side door. "What was that?"

"He stole something. I did my job, you broke the law and let him go. I could fire you, ya know," Emma threatened, and something in her empty green eyes told David not to push the subject or she might have made good on her word.

"Emma, this isn't you. What's going on with you lately?"

"You think you know me, David? You don't know anything about me because you put me in a box and shipped me off to my own personal hell. So, lay the fuck off of me." An inkling of guilt tugged at her chest as the hurt filled her father's eyes, but the bigger part of her heart hadn't cared.

"You know you can talk to me… if you want, if you need to," David fumbled. The daughter who helped protect her baby brother from Zelena only two months ago had deteriorated before their eyes, and no one knew why. She practically ended her relationship with Belle and Ruby, barely saw them, and spent a lot of extra shifts at work even though the department had been granted a larger payroll budget.

Emma pulled her arm from his loose grasp and glared without speaking as she slipped behind the wheel of the cruiser. The drive to the station passed in tense silence, all except Emma's heart pounding in her ears. How was she supposed to live in this timeline when she had no closure from the other one? The curse only created new worlds, it couldn't bring the dead back to life. Right? Which meant, somewhere in the confusing universe of magic, Ruby dealt with the loss of Regina and Belle alone. Had the time portal reversed time and saved everyone's life while taking her back to the original timeline? What if the curse had done nothing for the other timeline, only brought her back to this one? What happened to Mason if Ruby went kamikaze and got herself killed after Belle died? Had Regina sacrificed herself for nothing? Would no one ever know that she died a hero?

For them.

She died for them.

"She died for me," Emma whispered, too quiet to even reach her own ears. Everything looked the same in her office, but she hadn't belonged there since her return. Everything was the same, everything but her. Even Hook seemed to block out his time spent in the other timeline.

"Emma, your mother and I think you're depressed," David's voice broke through the circular thoughts that raced around her mind most waking hours.

"Good for you." Her office door slammed on the conversation. The blinds had been closed a few weeks ago and protected her from her father's concerned and doting gazes since then.

The worn chair caught her exhausted body. The bottle from the bottom desk drawer topped off the lukewarm coffee she'd abandoned in her quest for cough drops to cover the scent on her breath. The slight burn of whiskey quieted her thoughts, and with another swig of cold coffee and alcohol, she picked up her phone.

"Emma?" The accented voice on the other end sounded surprised. Had she really gone that long without speaking to Belle?

"Have you found anything about that spell?" Emma clipped. She really wanted to hang up, to forget about the spell, forget about the alternate timeline. How could she ever return to her life here? How could she forget Regina? Squeezing the phone between her shoulder and cheek, she pressed the heels of her hands into her burning eyes. Belle's accent cut through the pain.

"I'm sorry, I haven't found anything we don't already know. Why is this so important to you? We beat Zelena before she could open it." Belle repeated the question she'd asked a dozen times already. Maybe if she'd told her the truth, Belle might have looked harder, asked questions she'd not previously known for which to seek answers. Belle wanted to help, eager to prove her worth – even in this timeline, she recovered from a lifetime of being passed from hand to hand as nothing more than an object with which to bargain. She was a fucking human being, not a thing. Just like Emma had been more than a symbol of salvation in that alternate world. Belle would have understood her hunger to return, to feel that validation just one more time.

A thousand words rushed up, flinging themselves against Emma's throat. She needed to tell someone before it killed her. "I just want to make sure it won't happen again." Was that her voice? That strained, tortured sound?

"Emma?"

"I have to go." She ended the call and stared at Belle's name until the device stopped vibrating. She'd only used her phone to text Ruby in the other timeline. She'd never needed it for more. As messed up as things were, everything felt simpler there. She actually felt like she lived for something, for someone. She had purpose, not just as Regina's chosen. The town respected her because of her actions, not because everyone knew she was their savior. She had made a true difference there, but here…

"Sheriff?" That deep raspy voice called to her as the office door swung open.

"Regina," Emma blurted without thinking. Her body surged into action. The chair rolled into the wall, and whiskey-laced coffee spilled over the reports and files the mayor had probably come to collect. "Hi." David squinted at the odd reaction over Regina's shoulder. Even across the concrete room, the change in his daughter's vocal patterns rang clearly.

The mayor rolled her eyes and snagged paper towels beside the coffee pot just outside her office. "You are a toddler trapped in the body of a grown woman," she griped, pulling a few sheets from the roll before tossing it at the clumsy sheriff.

"You don't pay me to be clean," Emma joked. She just wanted a little rise out of the mother of her child.

Regina's dark eyes narrowed across the desk, hand stilled atop the mess. "I wasn't aware it should be included in your job description. I have filed so many brown pages since you took office, I almost believe I'm living in the Enchanted Forest using parchment again."

Emma placed her own towels on the desk, hand so close that her pinky grazed Regina's. She'd done that recently, touched the mayor in subtle and seemingly innocent ways. If Regina noticed, she hadn't minded because she certainly would have vocalized her distaste by that point. Leaning forward, green eyes locked with brown. The sorceress' flickered with confusion, just like they had in other timeline when she misunderstood the emotions of the situation. They were the same person, but this Regina created 28 years of peace in which to heal from the wounds her mother inflicted. She learned emotions but still struggled to read them without manipulating them.

A fire ignited in emerald green, a storm as sudden and violent as a hurricane. If she kissed Regina, the mayor might have kissed her back. She might have believed Emma. If she told Regina all the secrets they'd shared, would she have been welcomed with open arms or shunned because of the mess they'd made of their relationship in this timeline by fighting over Henry. If she kissed her, would memories rush back, memories of them only kept alive in Emma's mind?

Emma blinked, breaking the spell, and dropped her gaze to their touching pinkies atop soaking wet paper towels that reeked of booze. If Regina remembered them, she also remembered killing her mother and the massive mind fuck Cora committed against her alter self. She remembered how she tortured Emma in that nexus of magic in the isolation room. She remembered the harrowing loneliness of her mother whispering in her ear every day that she wasn't worthy of love.

Regina straightened her spine and lifted her hand to glance at the silver watch on her wrist. "You may bring them to the house tomorrow during dinner. Henry is feeling neglected and wishes a private dinner with his mothers."

Emma smirked. She'd gotten to her, but Regina still held her tongue. Was it even possible for this Regina to love her? "I'll be there."

"Of course you will. Don't forget those reports." Regina spun on the toe of her heeled boot.

"Wait, where are you going so early?" Emma chased her around the desk.

"It's five o'clock, Sheriff, which means I'm going somewhere that is not my place of work," the mayor snapped, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned to face the mother of her son.

"Yeah, but you never leave before six." Emma tucked her thumbs in her back pockets, awkward now that she'd regained Regina's full attention once more.

"Robin and I are having dinner, if you must know every detail of my life. Henry will be at Granny's with Miss French and Miss Lucas if you care to spend time with him."

"Why didn't you ask me to stay with him?"

"Perhaps if you'd bothered to return his call earlier this week, that arrangement could have been made."

"Shit. I forgot. I was going to…"

"I have no idea what your problem has been lately, Ms. Swan, but if you wish to be a mother to my son, then be his mother. You're not allowed to check in and out of his life when it's convenient. You're hurting him. It stops now, or this arrangement we've civilly maintained shall be terminated. Am I clear?"

"Regina, I'm sorry that I've been distracted. It's just…" This wasn't her Regina. Well, she was her Regina, but not her Regina.

"Dinner. Six o'clock," the mayor snapped. "Don't be late, and do try your best to be sober." Sharp caramel eyes flicked to the mess on her desk and then back to the glassy emerald green of their savior.

"I won't be late," Emma promised.

Regina's eyes narrowed for a long moment, but she said nothing else as she turned on the toe of a leather boot and stalked out of the station.

David took a breath to speak. "Shut up, David." For the second time that hour, Emma ended the conversation with a slamming door.