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The problem with being best friends with your co-parent, you know when they are hurting. You see past all the walls they throw up. You see when they are lying. And you see, quite clearly, when something you have done has caused them immeasurable pain.
I saw it today. The raw hurt all over her face, the second she spotted the ring. I saw it from the corner of my eye, and tried, to come up with something, anything to easy, but by the time she turned and faced me, her walls were firmly in place, and her eyes pleaded with me not to call her on it. Do I didn’t. I accepted her words, her stiff, awkward hug that feels nothing like our handhold only days ago in the wish verse. I didn’t draw further attention to the fact that she shudders, ever so slightly as I released her. I did my damndest, to ignore the way her pain aches in my own heart.
Ignoring the red flags her reaction caused in my brain works until I see the dreamcatcher in Killian’s hands this morning. I’m not even hurt that he essentially murdered a grandfather I never met, some part of me actually expected that. My chest tightens as he whirls and discovers my presence. The panic and shame in his eyes confirm what I already knew. This is a man who changed only so much as he thought was necessary to win me. He is terrified of losing me, and subsequently losing all his progress, because he didn’t change for himself. I couldn’t listen to his pleading or his protests so I handed him back the ring, watched him leave.
I am wounded, that after everything I have already forgiven him for, he could not trust me to forgive him for this too. I am wounded that after everything we have been through, after everything I have shared, the man still does not know me. He cannot see who I am because of the lenses of his own guilt and shame. I am tired, tired of trying to prove myself. Tired of doing most of the work in the relationship, tired of begging for communication that should come naturally by now.
Then it occurs to me, her words while in the underworld, “ to be honest, you’re too good for Hook” . My brain inevitably points out how well I communicate with her. Mere glances are enough, words are unnecessary. We don’t hide anything from each other, we have seen it all, shared it all, and support each other anyway. When I am in trouble, it's only natural to seek her out, and she does the same, we are inevitably drawn to each other, drawn to the whispered promises of “You are not alone, I am here” and “ so we do this together then?”
Later that night, I stand alone in the doorway of my big empty house, and suddenly, I understand her pain on a whole new level. I can’t stand being in this massive empty home. A home that was meant to signify a new beginning, a fresh start. A home where I thought I could start anew, grow my family. I recall the brief moments where the house did feel like home, and she is in every one of them, breezing through the door uninvited, with our shared son, sometimes alone with a new bottle of wine to try, sometimes with the whole newly minted hero crew, looking for my help in fending off the latest disaster.
It occurs to me, that I now seek out her home, the way she sought out the loft. The chaotic noise of a home filled with imperfect people who love each other.
Before I even realize what I have done, I have shrugged on my jacket, slipped on my boots and am walking into the cold dark night. I am not surprised, when I lift my eyes and find myself at the gate before her large white house. This is inevitably where I end up whenever I am upset, alone, afraid, and grieving. Nor am I surprised when I catch movement out of the den’s curtained window. Seconds later, she’s standing on the porch, her arms wrapped protectively around herself, as she calls softly, “Emma?”
There is vulnerability in her eyes. There is a hint of fear, coupled with the strange level of trust she puts in me. she watches me carefully for a moment, relaxes and motions behind her, “ Why don’t you come inside?”
I nod stiffly, and head up her walkway. She freezes when I get close enough for her to really see me. she closes the door behind me, and helps me out of my jacket. Her hands twitch, like she is suppressing an urge, and then, slowly, gently, her slender fingers are gently brushing tears I was unaware of crying from my face, her own expression full of raw emotion. She doesn’t say a word when I reach for her, doesn’t refuse me when I draw her into a hug.
She’s stiff at first, but relaxes. Her arms wind around me and I feel safe and secure in her grasp. She smells of cinnamon and chamomile and I can’t help the way my lips twitch into a smile as I relax in her arms. She lets go before I do, her hands sliding down my arms from my shoulders. Her hands grasp mine briefly, and her eyes are staring at my bare fingers. She lets go swiftly, backing away and clearing her throat. She fidgets with her clothes, avoiding eye contact, her voice uncharacteristically low, “would you like some cider?”
“Got anything stronger?” I ask, and she freezes for a moment. I grimace as I remember those were the words I said to her on the night we first met. She recovers quickly and heads for then den, “ don’t forget to take off your shoes” she manages.
I can hear the pain in her voice and I am ashamed of myself. It was selfish of me to come here. I hesitate, and contemplate leaving, but find myself slipping off my boots, place them neatly by the door before padding down her hallway in my socks.
I lean against the doorframe and watch her pour us a drink with her back to me. knowing her, is a real problem. I can see the tension in her shoulders, the stiff, careful way she avoids eye contact as she approaches me, stopping at arms length, just close enough to pass me the glass, but far enough away with care to avoid our fingers brushing. The way she immediately retreats to the sofa, crossing her legs, holding her glass in her lap like a shield.
I hesitate again, and softly mumble, “ maybe I should leave”
Her eyes snap to mine, and I see her wrestle with her need to remain distant, while fighting the urge to comfort me. I swallow and start to back away.
“ Emma, you came here for a reason” she states simply. There is no accusation in her voice. She is doing her best to remain neutral, “ I am assuming you need to talk to someone?”
I hear the inflection in her voice, and decide standing in the doorway is too far away. I crave her presence, even if she does have her walls up. I nod, and head to her sofa, seating myself carefully, placing the glass she handed me onto her carefully placed coaster. My fingers fidget in my lap. I can’t seem to speak past the growing lump in my throat. She lets me sit there for a few moments, watches me with careful eyes.
Eventually she sighs, puts her glass down and seizes my hands, ceasing their awkward movements.
Her voice is incredibly gentle and patient, “Emma”
A sob tears out of my throat, and suddenly I am wrapped in Regina. Her arms are wrapped around me, her hand tugging my head to her shoulder, her fingers lightly scraping against my scalp as she whispers, “Come here”. She just holds me, as I sob, her fingers continuing their light ministrations, her hold strong but gentle as my shoulder bumps against her chin repeatedly. I am ugly crying, and I know it. I see the snot on her blouse, but she doesn’t care, so I can’t bring myself to either. I lean into her, her knees on either side of mine as she sits on her heels, tugging me closer.
I am selfish, for doing this to her, for seeking her out when I know what this is doing to her. apparently I voiced that, because she shakes her head emphatically, “No, never Emma. You can always come to me. I will always be here for you” Her voice is raw, and carries the note I know indicates she too, is crying. My arms leave my sides, and I reach for her, tugging her closer to me, breath in the scent that is uniquely her, and our roles reverse. She is suddenly the one sobbing and apologizing, “ I am selfish. I … I want you to be happy Emma, but… I can’t… I cant watch you be happy with him”
I nod, understanding what she is saying and she continues, “You… you promised me that I deserved a happy ending, that you would help me find it. and… I just… Emma… you are my happy ending, but I know now, I’m not yours.”
I start to protest but she continues, oblivious, “ You want him, you love him and that’s okay. I don’t want you to leave him because of me” She’s sobbing so hard her shoulders are shaking and she can barely breathe. My heart clenches as I realize she saw the ring missing and assumed I had given it back to him because of her. I shake my head and tug her closer, “ He’s not my happy ending” I whisper.
She continues to protest and I hush her, deciding to wait until we both calmed down a bit to explain. It takes her a while, to get the shuddering under control, and eventually, she falls asleep against me. I gently lower her head to my lap, grab the throw off the back of the sofa and tuck it around her. I gently run my fingers through her hair and stare at the fireplace across from us.
I marvel at how right this feels, her in my arms, our closeness, the feeling of safety, and comfort and home that it brings. It feels nothing like Killian and I. Everything about Killian and I was difficult, rough. Something always came up, and tore us apart. Over and over again, life, death, and drama separated us. We always interpreted our overcoming it, as fate. Killian believed it made us true loves but we never had the ease that my parents spoke of. My eyes didn’t seek him out in a room. I felt oddly empty in his arms, hollowed out. But he loved me, and I loved him, and we overcame death together, several times and that had to count for something. And I believed him, because, he is a fairytale character, and what do I know of true love.
Although, sitting here now, with her in my lap, I can finally identify with the completeness my mother always speaks of. The way she feels whole around my father, I feel around the woman in my arms. My mind takes this moment to conjure up all the times we defied death together. My brain reminds me of the intoxicating way our magic blends together, the way we can communicate a plan without words. The way we have come to trust each other, and rely on each other. The way our differences unite us, rather than tug us apart. The complete misery of knowing I had caused her pain, enough that she wanted space from me. the memory of losing her friendship over Marian still causes my heart to ache, not because I needed her, but because I want only the best for her. I want her to feel the way she makes me feel, protected, cherished, adored, lo….
I hesitate a minute before letting my brain go there, tring on the word for size as it reverberates through my mind.
Loved . She makes me feel loved. When we do magic together and I manage it correctly, she looks at me like I personally put the stars in the sky. When I back her up in our co-parenting moments, she looks at me with such warmth and affection, coupled with disbelieving gratitude. And when I wound her, however accidental, she looks at me with so much raw pain, its too much to bear. Its how I imagine Julius looked at Brutus in his final moments when he realized is closest, dearest friend was personally stabbing him in the back. I can’t bear that look. I can’t bear to see her in pain. And more than that, I cannot bear being the cause of it.
I am so uncomfortable now, with her in my lap, as I realize the pain my selfishness has caused her. I try to gently ease her out of my lap so I can flee, but she stirs, wrapping herself more tightly around me, burying her face in my stomach, “ Don’t run” she whispers.
I stiffen at her words and she tilts her head up, meeting my gaze, “Please, Emma… stay”
I swallow nervously and she carefully sits up, cupping my face in her hands, “ You came here to talk to me, didn’t you?”
I nod, and she gives me a gentle, wobbly smile, “ Well, let’s talk then.”
She takes my hands in hers, running her fingers over mine, over the place where until earlier this evening, an engagement ring rested. She glances down at my fingers, before meeting my eyes again “ What happened Emma?”
I close my eyes against the grief in my heart, before meeting her steady gaze, “ He killed David’s father”
She searches my eyes, “That’s not why you are upset”
Leave it to Regina to get straight to the heart of the issue. I shake my head, “ No. I’m upset, because… after all this time…”
“ He should trust you enough to tell you” she guesses.
I nod emphatically, “ exactly. We’ve been through so much together, I became the dark one to save him”
Her eyes flash and I realize my mistake, “ Well, you, and then him” I clarify and she grimaces, “ I never wanted that from you”
I sigh, “ I know, but you would have done it for me”
She grimaces and nods, then turns back to the discussion, “But…?”
Her patience is exactly what I need, “ I give up the last bit of goodness in me for him, and he hates me for it, he tries to kill my whole family, and then after he dies, I go to save him, dragging all of you to hell with me, and he still can’t” the emotion in my throat chokes my words
She squeezes my hand encouragingly, “He still can’t...?”
“ He doesn’t know me Regina. He never did. We went through all this shit together, and the man proposes to me, but cant bring himself to actually get to know the woman he claims he wants to spend the rest of his life with.”
She doesn’t say anything and I continue my tirade, “ I mean, seriously, what does he actually know about me, other than I am the savior, who my parents are, and I share a son with you? He doesn’t know me at all. and its not from my lack of trying. First he spends months trying to get me to open up and trust him, but never bothers to return the favor. I saved his life, for Christ sake. I sacrificed everything for him, several times. I turned my back on my family, on you, to try and save him, and yet he still can’t find it in him to just trust me?” I am nearly shrieking in anger, and her grip is tightening on my hands.
She just nods, running her thumb over my bare ring finger, “ So you broke it off with him?”
“ Would you marry someone like that?” I retorted and a small smile tugs at her lips
“Never again” she whispers.
Leopold. I mentally slap myself, “ God Regina, I am an insensitive ass. I’m sorry”
She waves my apology away, “ It's in the past.”
“ I just… get so frustrated with him, with us. I mean, he and I haven’t been through half the shit you and I have, and yet, somehow you and I find a way to make it work”
She freezes, tugging her hands gently from my grasp and turning away.
I do slap myself that time, “I am an idiot”
“I’ve wondered when that would sink in” she says, but her words lacks its usual snark as her voice trembles.
I kick myself mentally again, reach for her hand.
“Emma, don’t” she warns me, her voice full of emotion.
I ignore her, take her hands in mine, “ I am a blind idiot Regina.”
“ Emma….” The raw undertones seep into her voice again, and I decide to be brave.
“ I was with him, because I was afraid Regina.”
Her eyes search mine and I swallow nervously, “ I always end up hurting you, and I never intend to”
“Yes well, we tend to do that to the people we lo… care about”
I catch her slip. I reach for her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze, “ Why? Why didn’t you say anything when you saw the ring?”
“Why didn’t you tell me? My sister saw it first, do you have any idea how much it hurt to realize you had gotten engaged without saying anything? After everything we have been through?”
“Regina, you have to believe me. I was going to tell you. I was coming to find you.”
She bites her lip, eyes searching mine for any hint of a lie. I glance at our entwined hands, “ You told me you were happy for me” I whisper. I don’t mean for it to sound so accusatory.
She stiffens, “ That’s what you wanted to hear, wasn’t it?”
I shake my head, “ The thing I love most about you Regina is your honesty. I can always count on you to tell me the truth, no matter what. If you don’t like me with him, for Christ sakes, you need to tell me. I know everyone else will tell me what they think I want to hear. I know you won’t and I don’t want that from you”
She is frozen, and it takes me a minute to realize I had let the L word slip. She meets my gaze with tears in her eyes, “ I hated seeing you with him. Its like my Emma was fading away in front of my eyes, and there was nothing I could do to stop it”
She grasps the bottom of my blouse between her fingers, “ You changed, overnight, everything about you just… disappeared. You became this whole other person, a shadow of yourself, and I was powerless. You started wearing clothes you hated, your personality faded, your smile became forced, you lost weight… and I… I tried, wherever I could, to help to find yourself again, but you were so lost in him…”
She was crying, “ When I woke you up in that wish world, for a moment, I thought maybe I had you back but you were still this shadow of someone I used to know. Then when I saw Robin… I just….”
“Lost yourself in the dream?” I guess gently and she wipes her own tears away and nods, “ Tried to. I failed miserably”
She shakes her head, “Losing Robin yet again, it hurt, gods did it hurt. But seeing that ring on your finger yesterday, it felt like my heart was torn out.”
I swallow and nod, ashamed, “I know. I saw it”
Her brows furrow, “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t come after me when I left?”
I can hear the pain in her voice and I shake my head, “ I should have, I am sorry. Your eyes…. You begged me not to, while asking me to wake up at the same time”
She chuckles wryly, “I never could hide anything from you”
“ Nor I from you”
“We’ve known each other too long” she mutters, bitterness seeping into her tone
I grab her hand, lift her chin to meet my eyes, “No, we haven’t known each other long enough”
I lean forward, into her space and brush my lips against hers. Her hands fist in my blouse, before she gently pushes me away, “Emma,” she swallows, “ we can’t” her voice is barely a whisper.
I nod, ashamed of myself, “I should go” I hurry to my feet, and prepare to run but she grabs my wrist, tugs me back down to face her, “ Don’t do that”
“What?” I ask, on the verge of tears
“ Don’t run from me every time we start to get somewhere. Its not fair”
“ But you said...”
“We can’t, meaning… not yet, Emma. You literally just broke things off with Hook.” Tears fill my eyes as I try to stamp down my frustration and confusion.
She cups my chin, “I need you to understand Emma. I love you too much to be that pirate’s sloppy seconds” she leans forward, kissing my cheek.
“Give it time” she pleas softly as she pulls away
“Time….” I reiterate numbly and she nods, “Something you and I have plenty of. Give yourself time to heal from Hook. Give me time to heal from Robin. And then, when we are both ready, we can finally explore this”
“Haven’t we had enough time?” I ask, “ We have wasted so much of it already”
She smiles, “ Whose fault is that?”
“ Mine, and yours” I point out and she frowns, “ Yes. It is. But I am trying to do right by you”
I swallow and nod, “ Fine, we do this your way”
She smirks, “ Good answer”
I tug her back into my arms, hold her close and sigh, “ Do you… mind if I stay here tonight?”
She pulls back at the loneliness in my voice and I hurry to explain, “ In your guest room is fine… I just… I finally get why you hated this house for so long… mine.. is just so big and empty and represents everything it’s not supposed to”
She brushes fresh tears from my eyes and smiles, “ Of course you can”
She stands, leads me upstairs. She hands me an extra blanket and ushers me to the guest room.
“ You know,” she states thoughtfully, “ This house got a whole lot less empty when you came into my life. I hated you for that at first, now I realize its one of the biggest gifts you’ve given me. You turned my house, into a home. Taught me its not about the size of your home, but the people who fill it.”
Tears well up in my eyes, “ You did the same for me. The only time that that blue house felt like home, was when it was full of my family, you brought so much life, and laughter into a lonely little house”
She tugs me to her and kisses me with so much gentleness, my heart hammers in my chest, “ So you are saying…”
I grin, “ I finally found Tallahassee you are my Tallahassee, my happy beginning. You and Henry, and our crazy families”
“Tallahassee, has a nice ring to it” she smiles, brushing another soft kiss against my lips, “ Goodnight Emma”
“ Good night Regina”
I slip under the covers and slip off to sleep, dreaming of homes filled with laughter, and Regina’s infectious smile.