It's place right after 3.15, and that is why Henry still doesn't remember Regina. I apologize for the mistakes I may have overlooked. Does it still count as a birthday present if it's over a month after? Happy (super belated I'm so sorry I suck) birthday, Mimi! While reading, keep in mind I love you, my dutch angel. I do not own anything.
HEART TO HEART
Regina could barely begin to grasp what Henry had just told her, as casually as if they were talking about what movie he last watched.
Neal was dead.
She couldn't really say she had been a fan of the guy when he was alive. The way he had entered Henry's life, and by proxy, her own as well, has always bothered her. The logical part of her knew it had been no more than an accident – it had happened when they went to New York to find Rumple's long lost son, not Henry's dad.
Her mind wanders back to the moment she first saw Neal, only a few minutes after finding out Henry's father was in town. She had rushed from the diner to the park, where she found Rumple staring at the two of them playing swords, and she could still hear Henry's laughter over the sound of wood clashing against wood. At first, it made her heart swell with joy, given it had been a long time since she heard her son laughing like that. But when her former mentor called her attention, mentioning something along the lines of them being family, she felt something twisting inside of her, making her taste bile.
Still, the last thing she wanted was for Henry to lose a parent.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Regina looked at the twelve year old boy walking beside her, absentmindedly kicking a rock as they made their way through the pier. Henry – or at least this amnesiac version of him – didn't remember ever playing swords with Neal. He didn't remember eating breakfast with his dad, or jogging at the park when it was sunny outside. Henry didn't remember even meeting him before and the mere thought made Regina's heart sink to her stomach.
Fishing his phone from his pocket, Henry's fingers tapped fast on the screen, and Regina wondered if he was texting one of his many friends from New York. Shaking her head ever so slightly, she tried to enjoy the company of her son, even if she couldn't call him hers anymore.
Studying his face, Regina noticed how calm he looked and how it was brutally different from the last time he told her the same news. When he had first lost Neal, his voice trembled with desperation as he clung to her, almost begging for her to tell that Emma was wrong, that his father wasn't dead. And even though she had suspected that at the time, she couldn't do anything but hold her little prince and try to keep his legs from collapsing under him.
He was taller this time around, his shoulders almost brushing hers, and his skin had lost that softness you can only find in young children. She should've guessed he hadn't been affected by the death of his father when he had said to her in a flat and almost dull voice that his biological father had gotten into trouble and died.
Clearing her throat, Regina looked at him, giving what she hoped was a comforting smile before asking, "Do you wonder what it would be like to have met him?"
Henry just shrugged, "Not really," he glanced at the body of water that surrounded them before looking at her again, "He sent my mom to jail. I can't see how he could be a nice guy, even though mom said he was a hero."
Regina could hear him saying 'bullshit' under his breath, and she had to refrain herself from calling his attention to his language. It wasn't her place anymore.
"Are you okay, Henry?" her voice was soft with concern and she reached for his arm, squeezing it slightly. If he found it weird, he didn't show. Maybe he had grown accustomed to everyone in this town being overly caring towards him.
"Why wouldn't I?" Henry smiled sincerely at her, letting a ruff of breath through his mouth.
Giving him a tight smile, Regina bid him goodbye at the end of the pier as he walked towards a group of kids around his age. The difference between now and how he used to behave was atrocious. Henry had been in town for only a few days and he had already made friends he felt comfortable enough around to hang out with. Regina could recall a time her son could barely name five kids in his class.
Sighing, Regina turned before the tears that stung her eyes could fall.
She begun to walk back to her empty house, ignoring the tug at her chest that made it hard to breathe. Since they reappeared in town after a year in the Enchanted Forest, Regina had managed to adjust herself back into some kind of routine. But by the end of the day, the options for activities she could possibly do were wearing thin and she didn't have much more to expect besides a hastily made dinner and way too many hours spent awake when she would welcome the blissful rest that sleep could bring.
She walked down the main street, her head held high as she watched the shop owners closing their business for the day. Her eyes wandered mindlessly through them, focusing only when they spotted the Sheriff's Station.
Emma.
Emma remembered Neal. Emma knew everything that had happened and how he was not just some guy who threw her in jail. And Emma had just lost Neal, for the second time.
Just like she had lost Daniel.
The thought brought an acrid taste to her mouth, as if she had swallowed iron. Flashes of Daniel's limp body on her arms made her reach for a lamppost for balance. It wasn't like she hadn't replayed that scene in her mind countless times, wondering what she could've done to stop her mother. But it had been rather the brutality of how the image invaded her mind that had left her breathless.
Brushing herself, Regina straightened up, ready to go home and start planning dinner for one. But somewhere along the next two blocks, she changed her mind and she didn't even realized that until she was staying in front of Snow's apartment, her hand lifted and knocking on the door.
She was about to turn around and leave, deciding it was best to leave Emma to grieve on her own, when the door opened and the sight that she was greeted with caught her completely off guard. Emma was wearing pajamas bottom and a hoodie that looked far too big to had always belonged to her, her blonde hair sticking out in some places, probably from fingers running through it far too often. Regina's eyes caught her bloodshot puffy ones, her green iris standing out from behind the tears welling up there.
Sniffing and wiping at her eyes with her cuffs, Emma sighed tiredly, "What?"
"Henry told me," Regina spilled out as softly as she could, pressing her hands together as an unexpected feeling invaded her, making her chest feel constricted. She was worried about the poorly put together form in front of her and, although she could expect herself to pity the woman, she didn't think she'd feel compassion. "About Neal."
His name said out loud had the same effect as a punch to Emma's guts would have. All the air left her lungs as she bent over slightly, reaching for the door frame to keep herself steady, eyes widening in something that resembled terror. Hands fiercely clasped together as she stared at the woman having a meltdown in front of her, Regina could see her lower lip trembling and her eyes filling with tears once more.
Turning away from the mayor and dragging herself inside the apparently empty apartment, Emma ran a hand through her golden locks and shoved her hands in her hoodie's pockets, before deciding against it and letting her arms hang beside her. Her entire being seemed tense, shoulders drawn too tight together and knuckles flashing white.
Regina walked into the apartment and closed the door softly behind her, still keeping her distance. Emma must had thought the woman had left given the desperately shaky breath that left her and how her shoulder slouched. Regina cleared her throat and Emma jumped, turning quickly to her, narrowing her red eyes, as tears ran down her cheeks.
"Did you come here to gloat?" Emma snapped, wiping at her cheeks so forcefully she was left with red marks.
Drawing her eyebrows together in confusion, Regina sighed, "I like to believe we're past this, Emma." Making her way towards Emma as she took her gloves out and set them on the table, the dark haired woman looked into the blonde's eyes, as if trying to make her understand she was being sincere, "Contrary to what you may believe, I never wished to see you in this situation."
Regina shifted her weight to her left foot, rather uncomfortable under Emma's gaze. While her words had been true, saying them out loud made her feel out of her element. They went from bickering to making magic together, but they didn't talk about their feelings, not towards each other.
"What situation?" Emma's voice was faint, almost a whisper, but Regina was sure she had meant for it to be rude and angry. Her fingers were no longer curled into fists, her hands now laying limp on her sides.
Making a gesture towards her general figure, Regina said, trying to keep her voice neutral, "This… mess."
Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes and marching towards the adjacent living room. The floor was littered with tissues that had either been torn apart or crumbled into tiny balls. There was a mug of what had once been hot chocolate, the whipped cream had melted a few hours ago, making a mess on the center table, and Regina didn't have to guess to know it had been Snow who had tried to force feed her the sugary concoction with more than a few cookies, also forgotten.
Beside the couch, there was a bottle of cheap whiskey and Regina's lip twitched when she imagined Emma drinking away her problems and into blissed numbness. She knew from experience that whiskey didn't help with anything but a killer headache in the morning.
Regina walked into the room, watching Emma running her fingers through her hair, then dropping herself on the couch and crossing her legs under her. Emma tried her best not to roll her eyes but she couldn't keep the mocking tone from her voice, "Like you could even begin to understand any of it."
"What, pray tell, am I unable to understand?" Regina sounded tender, almost caring and nothing as harsh as her words would suggest. Her hands found her waist, keeping her in a regal position while she waited for Emma to give an answer she was already expecting.
When Regina knocked on Emma's door, she believed she had done it out of instinct, out of boredom, just because she didn't want to be alone in her manor another night. But now, seeing how small Emma looked, she realized what she had set herself out to do and she felt a pang in her chest. The Evil Queen had gone ridiculously soft.
"Any of it." Emma cried out, sinking back into the couch and grabbing the bottle, searching refugee in alcohol, as she had done so many times before.
Regina paced towards her, taking the bottle away from her just an inch before the lid touched her lips, and paced to the kitchen, ignoring the somewhat enraged "Hey!" Emma emitted. As she fumbled through the cupboards, she wondered if Snow even had any nice tumblers – or anything other than mugs with disgustingly cute drawings all over it. She settled for a couple of plain white mugs, because honestly, that was the closest thing she'd get to a whiskey glass. As she poured a good amount of whiskey on each mug, Regina twitched her nose. The smell alone was revolting, nothing like the fine whiskey she kept on her office.
If she was going to do this, she was going to need alcohol. Fuck her very likely unbearable headache in the morning.
Grabbing the mugs by their handles and bringing the bottle with her, she reached the living room to find a very confused Emma. Regina barely shrugged as she settled the bottle on the table and handed Emma her mug.
Regina sipped from the amber liquid, tasting the stale drink with a grimace and deciding it would be best to not let it touch her tongue. She could feel Emma's eyes boring into her actions, probably finding it odd to say the least. She could understand it. In normal situations, she wouldn't be caught dead with a mug filled almost to the brim with cheap whiskey in her hand.
Taking yet another sip from the sickening liquid, Regina set her mug on the coffee table and motioned to sit on the other end of the couch. Crossing her hands on her lap, she watched as Emma gulped on the sharp whiskey that burned her throat and set it beside her mug on the table, finally looking back to stare at Regina,
Emma tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes once again. Twisting her ring around her finger, Regina lifted her gaze to stare back. The blonde didn't seen keen on start talking, and Regina knew how social situations went – she came in, she should lead the conversation.
"What happened?" Regina asked softly,
"Why bother, anyway? It's not like you care."
"I do care to know how the father of my child died, Emma. I care to know why you're in this deplorable state. Especially since you said, no longer than a few weeks ago, that you wanted the guy dead."
Shaking her head, Emma repeated herself, as if that argument was the only one keeping her from poking at her too fresh wound, "You won't get it."
"Try me" Regina murmured quietly, turning herself to fully face the blonde.
"Really?" Emma scoffed, sounding almost frantic, "I lost Neal, and then I found him. And then I lost him again. He died. He died in my arms, can you fucking understand that? I know he was in pain, but I didn't want- to have- Gods, I basically killed him."
Brushing her hair back and scratching at her neck, Emma tried to stop picturing it, stop remembering how the light left his eyes so suddenly, how she never got to say all the things she wanted to say to him.
Regina's throaty laugh brought her back to reality. "Fuck," the word left Regina's mouth in a whisper, and Emma was torn between being angry that the woman was laughing or intrigued as to why the former queen was cursing. "I understand it so much better than you could possibly imagine."
"What?" Emma was just plain confused at this point, and she couldn't say she didn't welcome the distraction.
"I don't know if your mother told you..." Regina refused to meet her green eyes, keeping hers trained on the swaying liquid inside the bottle, "About Daniel?"
Furrowing her brows, Emma tried to remember why the name sounded familiar. It was such a faint memory she could swear it had happened in a dream, or maybe she was confusing with one of Henry's classmates. There was a Daniel on his class, she was almost sure of it. But then it hit her – doctors and nurses rushing to take care of Greg Mendel's injuries, most of the townspeople worried about him knowing that there was magic in Storybrooke, and David talking about Regina.
"Hm… Your fiancée… who you brought back from the dead last year?"
By the look on Regina's face, Emma knew she had said the wrong thing. The dark haired woman had snapped her head to stare down at Emma so fast the blonde had been left wondering how she hadn't broken her neck. Her eyes burned and her heart was aching with such violence she wondered if it had been a wise idea coming here at all, "Be cruder, I beg you."
"Is this it? Because I don't much more about him than that, to be honest." Emma shrugged and curled her shoulders in, trying to get a hold of what even was Regina's point.
"Yes. Well, yes." Fidgeting with her ring, Regina's eyes softened as memories of another time filled her mind. She could almost feel the warm wind rushing through her hair, making it whip behind her as her arms were tight around Daniel's waist and their horse galloped somewhere only they knew, "We met when I was around fifteen. His father had worked for my father's family, so my father was very keen to letting him stay with us. Mother was against it. She insisted I learned how to ride from someone else. I was thirteen at the time, and I learned how to ride sitting on my side, like a perfect lady. He was the one who taught me how freeing riding a horse could be."
Regina lifted her eyes slightly, still not meeting Emma's. It wasn't something she could say while looking into those curious green eyes. "One day I was practicing keeping my back straight and I saw him lurking near the stables, watching me. I knew mother had forbidden me from ever talking to him, but Rocinante, my horse, loved him, and he taught me how carrots were good for horses and for a while that's all we did – talk about our passion for horses. It was just a matter of time until he taught me how to really ride and jump and race, how to look at the stars and know how they tie together. He was my best friend."
"And then he kissed me. My mother had been out on a trip, and we used that day to ride until our horses gave up on us, and then we settled near a lake, he taught me how to skip rocks. When I made a stone skip five times, he kissed me." Regina bowed her head down again and took a deep breath.
She had never done this, she had never opened up so freely to someone else. It felt like throwing salt water on an open wound. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander back to that day, and how her braid loosened when Daniel buried his fingers in her hair.
"And we kissed again and laid down by the lake, waiting for our horses to eat and drink so we could get back. Daniel traced our names on my back, and I remember thinking 'this is it, this must be love'." Gathering every ounce of strength she had, Regina looked up and into Emma's green eyes. The blonde was smiling and, to Regina's surprise, it matched her own grin, "He talked about us getting married and having children. We'd get married in Firefly Hill. I'd wear white and my hair would be in a single braid falling down my back – he had a thing for my braids." Pausing for a moment, Regina wondered if Emma would find it weird, her wearing braids, but shook the thought away, "We'd move to a farm his father would help him buy and we'd have three kids – two boys and a girl."
Turning her head, Regina bit her lip and stared outside the window. It was a cold day with grey skies and it matched how she felt. Grey and wrinkled and worn out – she had lived too many lives and wanted more than anything to just go back, to hold Daniel one more time and see the look on his face when she told him she was pregnant. But she couldn't, time only moves forward and those simple days will never come back.
"He sounds like a nice guy," Emma said softly, startling Regina nonetheless. She felt a hand covering her own, squeezing it gently and letting go, and it was over, as quickly as it had begun.
"He was," Regina managed a smile that tasted like ocher, regret burning in her chest, "I should've never loved him. He died because… He died because he loved me. We planned to run away when I was promised to marry the King, but my mother was faster. She took his heart and crushed it, and he fell before I could reach him. He was dead before he touched the ground, but I held him, I begged for him to come back, I-" Regina rolled her eyes at her naivety back then. In that moment she really had believed she could bring him back with true love's kiss, because what she felt was nothing if not true love. And it might have been, but no love is strong enough to kiss someone back to life.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Regina noticed her cheeks were wet – of course she had cried. It seemed like she had nothing left within her besides tears.
"I held him through the night, wishing for him to come back to me." Sniffing and poking her cheek with her tongue, Regina sat up straighter and wiped her tears away, drawing a shaky breath, "And then I buried him."
No one had seemed to care enough to help her dig the hole and throw his cold body in the ground. She had buried him in Firefly Hill, keeping the ring he had given her safely around her knuckle. Her nails had been dirty for days and Cora had beaten her up more often than usual in the worst days of her grief.
Without saying another word, Regina got up and downed the terribly tasting whiskey before walking into a room she had hoped was the bathroom. Giving herself a minute to mend the broken pieces, Regina washed her face and walked back out. She had come to terms that even thinking about Daniel would always hurt, this wasn't news to her.
Emma had poured her another drink, her makeshift tumble filled almost to the brim and Regina gave her a tiny smile. As she watched the blonde take a healthy gulp from her own glass, she realized they really shouldn't be completely sober to talk about dead lovers.
"I- I didn't know. I had no idea about any of it" Emma said shyly, curling her legs under her and running her finger mindlessly on her thigh.
Regina tried to widen her smile and seeing Emma Swan feeling shy about a situation helped, "You wouldn't."
"Talking makes it easier?" with a hopeful voice, Emma waited for an answer she wasn't sure she wanted to hear.
Pursing her lips, Regina took her drink and sit on the couch, "It helps. In the very least, it helped me accept it."
Watching Regina take a sip, Emma asked to fill in the silence "Do you talk about it often?"
Scoffing and almost chocking with her cheap whiskey, Regina let out a dry humorless laugh, "Gods, no. The first time I ever talked about it was in my Evil Queen days. I was in bed sick and although I could manage to mostly heal myself using magic, I was dehydrated and needed to rest, and Claude kept me company."
"Claude?"
"One of the guards; I was very fond of him until, well, Hook killed him." Regina dismissed her own comment, and plainly ignored Emma's faint 'oh'. Claude had been a loyal servant, and she had to remind herself to not get worked up over how many of her guards were killed trying to protect her, "I blame the high fever I was running. But that was the moment I gave up trying to get him back, that I finally accepted death is final."
Regina regretted saying those words as soon as they left her mouth. Yes, death was indeed final and the sooner Emma accepted that, the sooner she could start to heal. Emma was looking down, a gasp caught in her throat and a tear falling straight on her thigh. Regina understood only too well how painful those moments were.
She remembered feeling like she'd never be able to fully fill her lungs with air again and how her heart hurt so much it became a physical pain. As she had done over a year ago, in the town line, Regina reached out and grasped her hand and squeezed it between hers, "Talk to me, Emma. Tell me everything about your- about Ne- about Henry's father."
Emma stared at their intertwined hands for a long time, before taking a deep breath and looking up at Regina, without really meeting her eyes, "We met when I stole a car that he had just stolen."
"You stole a stolen car?" Regina smiled at her, surprised that she had said that instead of some snarky retort about how much of a great relationship that must have been, given its start. Emma didn't need her judgment, it wouldn't be any help for her grief. So Regina made sure to just make circles with her thumb on the back of Emma's hand, signalizing it was safe for the blonde to keep going.
"He asked me out after we almost got in trouble for speeding. We went to a carrousel or something, I'm not sure how it's called but it had swings? He got me coffee and we talked about our stories and how we got into that place. In our first… Date, he taught me what home was. I hadn't known, I had never known what it meant to have a home, but Neal told me that home is what you miss when you're away." Emma smiled softly, remembering how the butterflies in her stomach had become crazy bats when he looked at her like he could see right through her walls, "It was raining and we stayed in this carrousel until it stopped raining, talking about movies and music until it was 3am and we were really philosophical and feeling too grown up."
Taking her hands from Regina's grip, Emma ran her fingers through her hair and leaned back, letting her head fall on the couch, "I don't remember being away from him after that. We clicked, we… We fell in love too quickly to be safe, but we didn't care. Times were hard, you know, and having someone who understood me like he did could almost make up for all the crap I've been through. I didn't feel lonely anymore. I felt… Home."
"We didn't really have a house to stay in, so the bug became our home. Yeah, we stayed at shelters and friends' houses but we'd take the bug before the system any day," Letting her eyes close, Emma's smile widened as she remembered how strangely cozy she felt cuddled up inside the bug, bad music blasting from the radio and Neal's fingers running through her hair, "We kept moving. And we didn't only steal, you know? We'd get temp jobs or work part time in two different places. We still couldn't afford a house, but we… We were happy."
Sighing heavily, Emma rubbed at her face and turned to face Regina once again. The former queen had almost finished her glass of whiskey, and Emma poured herself some more, taking in the terrible taste that gave her such good memories, "Every Friday, no matter what city we were living at the moment, we'd find a high spot, like a mountain or something. We'd climb it, and Neal always brought cheap wine with him, sometimes beer or even whiskey. We would drink and talk, looking at the city lights and the stars like the two lovesick teenagers we were."
Emma remembered how the mountains usually overlooked the city, and they could stare at the lights, watch them come to life and fade as the sun came out. Ever since, city lights had brought her memories of fingers ghosting across her shivering form, nails digging into shoulders and a hot mouth pressing to her skin and making her feel as if Neal and the city lights were all there were in the world. Swallowing hard, Emma felt her insides turning into goo as she remembered her back arching and Neal's voice right beside her ear, telling her how much he loved her and how he'd never leave her.
Clearing her throat, Emma pretended she didn't notice Regina looking funny at her. She hadn't been able to open up to anyone after Neal, and here she was, pouring her soul out to a woman who had the same knowing look Neal had. Those chocolate eyes bore into hers as if they could see her soul and all the pain gushing out of the open wounds that would never really close.
"He made me feel wanted, like I was worth something, I was worth someone caring about me." Emma dropped her head in her hands and sighed, only half surprised to find out her eyes were tear filled, "One day he asked me to drop the Bonnie and Clyde act and settle down with him. I guess it was the closest thing to a proposal we ever got. I said yes and he found a map, made me close my eyes and point. So we could find home. My finger landed in Tallahassee."
Emma looked up at Regina in time to see clarity hitting her softly, "Is… Is this the reason why you spent the longest time in there?"
Nodding shyly, Emma biting down on her bottom lip, "I had this weird hope he'd come for me, he would go home." Closing her eyes for a moment, Emma felt hot salty tears run down her cheeks. It still hurt, knowing he had never looked for her. "But after a while I realized he wasn't coming back. He was gone, he had fled when the cops came and left me to take the blame. I went to jail and had his baby, and he never looked for me. Having the bug gave me hope I shouldn't have let myself have. So I went to Tallahassee and stayed there until the pain was too much to bear."
"I ran, just because that's what I do… I used to do. I ended up in Auburn after Tallahassee, and then a bunch of places you're probably aware of until Henry came to my door." Emma chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to keep the overflowing emotions at bay, "They have the same puppy eyes, you know?"
Emma felt a sob threatening to rip through her and before she could even try to contain it, Regina's arms were around her. The blonde leaned in the surprisingly soft touch, resting her head on Regina's shoulder and letting the sobs tear her throat open, leaving a fiery ache in its awake. Rubbing circles in her back and shushing her with calming senseless words, Regina let Emma cry her pain out, because there was nothing else to do besides wait until time did its job. They stayed like this for long minutes, Emma's hand in a fist, holding Regina's silk blouse as if it was her lifeline, the sobs shaking her body.
Emma loved Henry more than life, but she couldn't keep it from her mind how cruel of a reminder he was that his dad had left her empty and broken.
Both her memories – the ones that happened, and the ones Regina had given her – were mixed up, one version of reality being more painful than the other. She still had a hard time catching her breath when she remembered how breathless she was when Henry showed up in her doorstep, rocking on his heels like Neal used to. And just as she managed a gasp, Emma remembered a two year old running around a tiny apartment wearing nothing but his pull ups and twitching his mouth just like Neal. Henry was a constant reminder of how much she had loved Neal, how present in her life he'd always be and how much she tried to hate him for all this.
"When we met again in New York I… I-" Emma swallowed hard and straightened her back, sniffing, wiping at her still falling tears and tearing free from the tight embrace she was in. Regina respected her decision, understanding that sometimes comfort could be too much for people like them. Emma sniffed and willed herself to stop crying before keep going. "All of a sudden I was in front of the guy who promised me never to hurt me, who sent me jail and broke me, more than anything before."
Emma stopped talking and drew a shaky breath that was cut short by a hiccup. She wanted to not talk anymore, she wanted to go back in time and never fall in love for the guy with childish smile and a warm heart. She couldn't get a image out of her mind – and it wasn't a laughing Neal who asked her out again when she was screaming at him in the middle of New York. It was his glassy eyes and half open mouth, and she kept feeling like she had her hand on his chest and she couldn't feel him breathing anymore.
Regina had her hands on her lap and Emma finally met her gaze. The blonde was taken aback to see that those deep brown eyes were filled with tears threatening to fall down her face.
"What- Regina, what's wrong?"
Smiling at her, Regina blinked her tears away and took a deep breath before reaching out to squeeze Emma's arm softly, "Do you wish to keep telling me?"
"I- I'm-" Emma stuttered, feeling like since she had opened the gate, she might as well let it all go. But she noticed her body was shaking with unwanted memories and the pain had become almost physical, she didn't think she could handle it, she wasn't ready to talk about all the different times she had lost Neal.
When he left her to take the guilt for the watched, it had hurt. Every minute she spent in jail, she thought about him and it made her cry silently until sleep took over her – she had learned how to cry without making a sound too long ago, but it still made her throat feel strangely tight the next day.
She had found him again in New York, and lost him to a fiancée who seemed so less damaged. Neal found out what Tamara was really after minutes before falling into a pit swirling with magic – knowing that she was about to lose him again made all the feelings she had kept pushed down and hidden away for many years come to surface again. She loved him, and he had let go of her hand.
Emma remembered feeling numb for a few days, and then getting too worried about Henry to think about anything else. But during their trip to Neverland, when the sea was calm and her parents weren't fussing around her, she would let her mind wander and her dreams were full of "what ifs" and she would wake up feeling sick to her stomach, pain licking at her bones and her blood being used as fuel to the aching fire that rushed through her veins and spread all over her being.
But she had mourned him, had kept busy and focused on Henry. Nothing, nothing, had prepared her to finding out he was alive. She had accepted his death and let go, but he came back in her life, making every decision she had made on how to move on crumble in her hands as she tightened the embrace around him.
Part of her wanted to never again let him out of her sight, just so she wouldn't risk it losing him again. And then she did – Pan cast a curse and she had to say goodbye to him, had to hear him telling that wasn't the end and he'd see them again, just to forget it two minutes later.
Shaking her head lightly, Emma let Regina know that no, she didn't want to keep talking. All she wanted to do was to drown herself in cheap alcohol until everything felt numb.
"I'm really, really sorry, Emma," Regina really meant it, and there was nothing else to say. She couldn't give Emma false hopes, she wouldn't.
Emma managed a smile, looking lost in her thoughts. "Does it ever get easier?"
Weighting her question, Regina thought maybe she should give Emma false hope. She could say that yes, it does get easier, and in a few months she won't even remember how her first love died in her arms. For a moment, she really means to say it – it's just a white lie. But sugar coating the impact it has on someone's life isn't the way to help. Yet, Emma looks so eager for a reason to stop hurting.
After a long minute, Regina sighs and whispers, "No, it doesn't." Watching as the hopeful look on Emma's face falls, Regina bit down on her lips, "You just learn how to cope with the knowledge he's gone forever and no matter how much alcohol you drink or how many people you blame and kill, he won't come back."
"It's such a mess," Emma wiped her face, trying to get rid of the tear stains and, as often happened when she closed her eyes, Neal's lifeless face burned her eyelids, "How did you manage to get through it?"
"I never really did, not truly." Regina recalled all the years chasing Snow and how bored she had been in Storybrooke, always mulling over getting revenge and getting her rage out on mirrors and any china she had in the house, "Not until Henry, anyway."
Rubbing her face, Emma had an eye closed and her mouth open, just like her son when she tried to wake him up for school, "Henry?"
"By the time Henry came along, I had become apathetic towards death in general, it had become a meaningless thing. I've been responsible for so many…" Regina furrowed her brow, trying to pin point the moment she had given up keeping track of the deaths she had caused, "Daniel being dead had become just another way to saying he wasn't with me in that moment. Subconsciously I guess I thought that if I made Snow miserable enough, I'd find my way back to him. But when Henry was around five months old he got sick, and I felt so powerless, and that's when I began to fear the death of loved ones again. While I nursed him back to health, tending to his every needs for two days straight, without much sleep, I realized that Daniel wasn't coming back. And I'd just have to face it."
Emma stared at Regina, trying to figure out how to put the anguish feeling eating at her in words, "It's just- I know he's gone, I saw his body in the ground, how cold he was getting by the minute, I know he's not coming back. I just- Sometimes it feels like he's just gone to another world, like he did the last time."
Scooting over to Emma, until their knees touched and taking the blonde's fingers in hers, Regina used her free hand to grab her chin and force those green eyes to look into her chocolate ones, "Emma. You have to face it. The sooner you accept that he isn't coming back, the better you hold on to the good memories, the less hurt you get, the faster you can move on and be happy."
Resisting the urge to scoff, Emma swallowed hard as Regina let go of her face, "Have you? Moved on?"
"I thought I had, with Henry." Regina smiled sadly, as she always did when Henry was mentioned these days, "But it's a different kind of love. It's maternal love, not…" Regina made a flipping gesture with her hands, sighing deeply.
"I-" Emma looked down, unable to hold Regina's gaze, and talked softly, "Sometimes I feel like I'll never be able to really trust anyone in that department again. Ne- Neal was the first person I let in, after I got out of the system. Well, ever, if I'm being honest. I learned to shut myself inside walls too young and he stole my heart so easily. I loved him, Regina. In the most caring way I could. We wanted to create a family and grow old together, but then he left me. And after that my love life was pretty much one night stand, one month stand sometimes, with horrible guys who didn't treat me well or were married or worse. And the girls were no better, I swear I only attract bad stuff. And then he came back and I wanted to punch him so hard. When you freed us from the curse I thought I had found a nice guy but then he was just a fucking flying monkey who worked for the Wicked Witch. Just when I thought my life could be normal…"
"You're the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, Emma. You're talking to the Evil Queen while your son is hanging out with the Mad Hatter's daughter, Hansel and Gretel. Your life will never be normal, not by your old standards." Regina had intertwined their fingers again, and was rubbing the back of Emma's hand, tracing random patterns as she spoke softly as she could.
When Emma laughed, Regina smiled, "You have a point. I'm not that picky though, you know. I just want someone I can talk about it all and have a nice dinner without the constant fear of losing them or losing myself in the process."
"You'll find someone."
Regina was close enough for Emma to see the faint freckles on her nose that she'd have never guessed the older woman had, but what startled the blonde was the certainty in Regina's voice, "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I did. Sort of. And believe me, if I did, I'm sure the Savior can too." Regina felt her skin crawl and she had never felt so uncomfortable under Emma's gaze through narrowed eyes. She hadn't found anyone, not really – she had simply realized what was right in front of her. Regina had tried to dismiss her feelings towards Emma as friendship, companionship even, two mothers caring for a child. But it was more than that and Regina tried to blame anything but her own heart. In that moment, she blamed magic – putting magic together to a greater good had never been known to not leave its mark. She knew that Emma and her were connected, if not for Henry, for each other's magic that once ran through their veins. But the fact remained that Regina wanted to comfort Emma and take all the pain away, one kiss at a time. Instead of confessing it all to Emma, she simply held her breath.
"You did? Who?" There was a bite in Emma's voice Regina wasn't expecting, but it was not received in a bad way.
Dismissing the question, Regina replied "That's hardly the point." Emma had just poured her heart out to her, she was vulnerable, and, considering the amount of whiskey left in the bottle, drunk – Regina couldn't put this weight on her.
Emma left a puff of air out, sounding annoyed and, if Regina let the hopeful side of her take over, a little jealous. "Well, than what is the point?"
"The point is, you'll find someone. You may not even notice it at first, but they'll be there. They might make you angry and argue with you all the time, they might get you coffee in the morning and call you by ridiculous nicknames, I don't know. But you will know. It's a gut feeling." Regina's voice was soothing, as was her touch – she still hadn't let go of her hands.
"Are you talking about that true love shit?" Emma asked skeptically, just barely resisting the urge to scoff at the idea.
Regina rolled her eyes playfully, smiling at Emma's scrunched nose, "Not exactly. But it's applicable to that as well."
"How do you even find true love?" Emma scoffed, startled by how that question didn't sound purely insane to her ears, laughing against Regina's cheek, "Man, I feel like a thirteen year old girl saying this."
"Don't, it's a legitimate question," a blonde curl fell in front of her face as Emma chuckled and Regina tucked it behind her ear before she could think better of it, "I know you can use fairy dust." The mention took Regina back to a distance past, an evening when she flew through her future kingdom and refused to meet a man glowing with fairy dust.
Emma raised an eyebrow, What now?
"Fairy dust can show you your true love, but I don't trust fairies very much." Narrowing her eyes, Regina tasted bile with the thought of how self-righteous all fairies were. They were so sure true love was definitive and if you lose your soul mate, you'd never be happy again. But Regina had done all research she could – true love was a match in a certain place and time; it can change if you don't act on it, it changes if you change. "I didn't mean only true love though, I mean someone who'll do you good, make you better than you are."
Feeling Regina's breath touching her cheek as she spoke, Emma whispered, almost afraid that talking louder would end that moment that felt like the only thing that made any sense, "Okay, since when are you so optimist?"
"I'm not being optimist, I'm being factual." Regina whispered back, finding it within herself the courage to lean in and rest her nose against Emma's, "I know it all to be true, and I'm telling you, this isn't the end."