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"Two weeks, it's all I ask," the witch comes closer and closer, her chestnut eyes never leaving green, terrified orbs, "Can you give me that?" She whispers into Emma's ear, licking her lips with satisfaction when she noticed the shiver running down the blonde's spine.

"I'm engaged," the blonde's mumbles, informing the queen and reminding herself.

"Two weeks," Regina's dangerous half declares, "That's all I need to make you change your mind"

"They will find me," Emma stubbornly replies, "Snow, David, Hook, they'll come for me"

"They won't," a wide smirk graces the witch's lips as her hand sliding down a toned bare arm, leaving noticeable goosebumps on porcelain skin, "They are all frozen- for two whole weeks dear," red lips getting closer and closer until Emma can feel every word as a puff of warm air on her own pink, dry lips "you are mine".

"Regina," she tries to say the name as soft as she can, she tries to apply to the rational, tender side inside the woman she learned to call a friend over the years, "I know you," she repeats the same words Regina threw at her when she was drowning inside her own darkness, "I really know you,"

"Well," a small chuckle escape the witch's throat "I can't wait to get to know you," she smirks as her knuckles softly brushing against a hot, rosy cheek, "All of you,"

"Why have you done this?" the blonde's frustration was starting to get the better of her, "You were happy, you had-"

"Nothing!" The witch declares, her hands are shaking with anger and she surrenders to the feeling, let it thrives inside of her and fill the empty spot inside her chest. "I had nothing!" the angry words leave her mouth and send waves of poison into the air. She watches closely on the effect they have on the blonde. The way Emma crumbles inside herself, fighting her tears and forces herself to breathe before she finally speaks again.

"I thought you were happy," she whispers and Regina sighs. Green eyes are far away as a savior tries to search for signs, any signs that she might have missed, every word that was left unspoken.

She never wanted to be the Savior, she never wanted this responsibility, she barely managed to keep herself alive over the years, how can she keep a bunch of fairy tales characters with a thing for curses alive?

But with Regina it was easy, it was easy pushing her from a portal, it was easy declaring 'she's not dying', it was easy to hate her, it was so easy to fight her and it was the easiest thing taking the dark curse for her.

"I thought you were happy," she says again, defeated.

"I will be," She comes so close again, a part of her aching to reassure the blonde, to tell her it wasn't her fault. She closes the distance between them, letting her warm breath tickle Emma's lips. And for a second the blonde was sure she was going to claim those lips, but instead, red lips barely brush her forehead. "Two weeks," she promises "It's all I need to make you realize"

….

"What about Henry?" Emma asks, knowing that playing this card was her best choice now.

"He will be fine," the queen replies, placing her teacup on the counter before locking her gaze on Emma again. The blonde takes one deep breath before she steps up, sensing that if she won't take the upper hand now she might never be able to. She needs answers, she needs to know what happened to Regina, because this person in front of her, the broken figure of the person she knew better than herself, this person was only a shell of the woman.

"Tell me," she demands, her hands clenching the hard material of the counter as she leans forward. Showing she's not intimidating, no matter what, no matter what part of Regina she is dealing with, no matter which layer, which version, this was Regina. And Emma will not be turned down by her.

"He's out of Storybrooke," she smirks, a part of her is satisfied with Emma's brave side. She missed it, she missed the stubborn savior who fought with every fiber of her being for what she believes in, missed the woman who will push her against a shelf and demands answers, honesty, truth.

The brunette smirk grows wider and she sends one finger to lift the blonde's chin up, locking chestnut, amused orbs with angry emerald ones."Don't worry." she reassures, "I will never hurt our son,"

"And the rest of the town," the savior inside her finally kicks in. "Will they get hurt by this spell?"

"Don't think about it too hard dear," she takes the lasagna out of the oven and put a generous slice on Emma's plate. "For now, everything is the way it's supposed to be,"

…

"I'm sorry," Emma mumbles out of nowhere, both of them sitting in the living room, Emma flipping through the channels not even in the mood for television and Regina pretending to read a book. Both of them are too good with escaping and too content with pretending nothing is wrong.

"For what?" the witch turns to look at her, removing her reading glasses and granting her her full attention.

"For everything really," A tired sigh leaves her lips "But for recently the most, I'm sorry for the way things ended with the 'Evil Queen' "

"Don't be," Regina tries to sound calm but Emma knows her too well, she catches the quivering in her voice and something inside her freezes.

"Regina?" she searches brown orbs for answers but Regina keeps averting her gaze, her hands hold onto the book more firmly as if the piles of paper and ink can save her from the shattered pieces of her life.

"I did what I had to do," she states coldly before running upstairs and locking herself in her bedroom. Leaving Emma with more questions and guilt than before.

And with one clear thought running through her head. Sometimes pretending is better than facing the dim, painful reality of one's life. Sometimes compromising is easier than aching for something better.

Escaping is not only easier, she tells herself, its also much less painful.

…...

"I think I deserve to know where my son is!" Emma demands a few hours later, Regina finally emerged from her bedroom and starting to work on dinner as if nothing really happened.

"I told you already, he's out of Storybrooke. Safe," she says while moving around the kitchen, gathering all kind of ingredients that most of them Emma only saw in the boutique's stores.

"The world outside of Storybrooke is big, where is he specifically and with whom?" she clenches her fists and forces herself to breathe in and out slowly.

"He's on writing camp in New-York," she finally gives in, "It's the one he kept asking us about and you said you were fine with it," she reminds the blonde, not wanting to be on her bad side more than she already is.

"Ok," the blonde answers, a big weight leaving her heart now that she knows her son whereabouts. "I'll give you two weeks"

Regina sharply turns around and palming a white, warm cheek, "My dear, dear savior," her dangerous, predators voice leaves her red lips and sends shivers down the blonde's spine. "We are going to have so much fun,"

"Promise me," Emma huskily demands, she closes her eyes, trying to prevent herself from getting lost in dark brown ones, but Regina is so close and tempting that closing in her eyes only brings images she should not be imagining. Definitely not right now.

"What do you want me to promise, dear?" she lets her thumb strokes the heated skin beneath it. Noticing how the savior is fighting with herself to stay in control, how her eyes are closed hard and her fists are clenched, how her breath is getting heavier and heavier. "Emma," she barely manages to hide the amusement in her tone as she tries to bring the lost savior back to reality.

"That they will be safe," she whispers, "Promise me that they all will be safe."

"Their lives are not in danger" Regina states.

"Two weeks,"

"That's all I need."

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