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Regina sits in her office and tries to focus on the report that one of her assistants had mailed to her earlier that day. She has no idea what any of it is about, despite it being pulled up for over an hour. It isn't that the report is unimportant, it's just that ever since she'd gotten back - not that she can remember coming back - nothing seems to have the same weight any more.
Her last clear memories are of the days after she was attacked by the Dark One curse, though the moment of the curse itself is the strongest. Her own magic was powerless against such an ancient and strong curse, and she could remember her vision blinking in and out of focus against the inky, clinging, sticky sorcery, glimpses of Robin, the town she presided over, Emma…
She bites her lip then quickly releases it, she doesn't want to ruin her lipstick. But it is irritating to think of Emma, and more irritating when she isn't even sure what to think - the gaps in her memories are terrifying, blank space where anything could have happened. She is Regina, this is her town - she should be holding the cards, but instead it is Emma who has control of the magic presently. And if Emma is the Dark One, that can't be a good sign.
Something is different with Robin after Camelot. Something is different with all of them, Regina is sure, but she sees Robin every day, so she notices it in him most acutely. He is still there with her, on their dates, asking about her day, kind and polite as ever, but he is changed, she can tell. She doesn't know what he's seen or what happened to him in the Magic Realms, and she is sure he doesn't know exactly either, so she's gentle with him, the same way he's gentle with her. Still, it's strange, to just end the night with him bidding her goodnight and returning to his apartment instead of coming inside with her to share a drink or her bed.
It's quiet in her house, with just herself and Henry. Her son is awake finishing his homework when she gets back, and she is acutely aware of how he must be struggling as well, caught between herself and Emma, caught between frustration in the gap in his memories, and the love he feels for the one who is the most likely cause.
"How was your day?" she asks him, placing a light kiss on his head as she passes the table where he's working.
"Alright. I'm helping Violet get adjusted to school in Storybrooke, it's a lot different than Camelot."
"That's nice of you," she comments, resisting the urge to tease him about his crush. Everything feels too raw now, and she wants him to just enjoy his time with Violet, without any pressure from her. "Don't lose track of time tonight," she warns, knowing his tendency to get lost in his work, to fall asleep at the table or stay up reading past midnight.
"Sure, mom," he replies easily. But then he looks up at her, really looks, as she's getting ready to go upstairs, and she realizes how much older he is than when Emma first came to town, how Henry is nearly a man now. "Mom… do you think there's magic to help Ma?" he asks, and she can feel his desperation, his need for everything to be alright for both of them. Unconsciously, she can feel her back straighten, wondering if she's been projecting vulnerability around him recently. Naturally, Emma has given him a reason to worry, but that doesn't mean that she should.
"There's old magic in her heart," she says honestly, "But I've never seen a curse without a counter-curse." And he should know to take her word, she knows curses.
Regina sees her in town the next day. It's not the first time since they were returned from the Magic Realms, but Emma has abandoned her post as sheriff, and so Regina has no idea what her plans are, especially as Emma has stolen their memories. Emma looks different, haunted. All of her is sharper, more angled, and she is colored with the curse. Regina has heard Dark Ones don't sleep, but Emma doesn't look to be suffering for it. Instead, she looks sharp, astute, almost militant.
"Miss Swan," she says, reverting to formality out here, on Main Street. "Can I ask where you're going?"
Emma flinches, irritated at being stopped, it seems. "I was just leaving," she says, turning away.
This is a blatant lie, but Regina knows better than to push Emma. Her own magic can't oppose whatever that wickedness is that lies in Emma's heart, at least without preparations, and well, she can't push Emma. Emma saved her from hosting the Darkness inside of herself. Emma took on the burden to preserve Regina's happiness.
That was it, wasn't it?
Emma is here, in this position, because she had interceded on Regina's behalf. Emma had trusted her parents to help her with the curse, but Regina knew that Snow and Charming were worse than useless with Curses. There were only two people in this town she knew were capable of understanding such things: herself and…
"You were going to see Mr. Gold, weren't you?"
Emma's eyes flash dangerously, and Regina knows she has it. What she doesn't know is if Emma was going to seek a way out of the Darkness, or to tighten her hold on it. "Well, go on," Regina offers, "I won't stop you. I have a meeting to get to in 10 minutes myself."
Emma looks more than frustrated at being found out, but turns back towards the pawn shop. Regina watches her go, then walks the other way, and keeps walking, in the direction of where Charming told her he saw Emma walk the other night. They can both keep secrets, she thinks.
Eventually, she sees a cottage, alone, looking out towards the sea. It's not Emma's style at all. It's austere, as if Emma just comes here for shelter from the elements and not much else, though peering in the windows she does see one room, hidden in the back, filled with Dreamcatchers. She recognizes them for what they are immediately - instruments of Dark magic used to hold memories. And despite the Darkness that surrounds them, she craves her memories, she longs to be whole again, to fill in the gaps left in her mind from the weeks in Camelot.
So Regina is greedy, breaking in and kneeling on the floor to watch any of the Dreamcatchers that have a glimpse of her face in them, and then also some that do not, and when she realizes the sun has set, she is frightened that the Dark magic may have more power than she predicted, or that Emma will discover her intrusion, and she thinks she needs to go, to maintain the facade of ignorance. But it is difficult, for now she knows what happened, and why Emma has stolen what she has stolen, and she is weighed down with knowledge, her legs seemingly glued to the cottage floor. She dares to hope that Emma placed false memories in the Dreamcatchers, to trick intruders like her, but she thinks that's not like Emma, she is far too straightforward. What she saw is the truth, and it's equally appalling, devastating, and true to Emma's style: taking on a burden to spare the rest of them.
When she leaves Emma's house, it's night time, and raining, but there's still no sign of Emma. She walks back through the forest in the rain, not worried about getting wet, her mind reeling with what she's seen: visions of stolen hearts and so much blood and her own past self begging Emma to use the power of the Dark One. Somehow, almost in a trance, she makes it back to her mansion, and Robin is there, pacing the living room. "Regina! Thank goodness, I was so worried," he says.
She nods, thanking him for his concern, but still they don't hug. And now she knows why.
When Regina next sees Emma, at Granny's diner, there's a dead man walking beside her. One of two men, Regina now knows, who shouldn't have returned to Storybrooke. Captain Hook is sitting in the booth beside Emma, sharing a plate of French fries, fussing over how Emma had been out in the cold with no jacket or gloves, and generally being his frustratingly chivalrous self.
Regina would not have eaten the French fries, but Emma took the curse for her, it was her job to mind Emma now, her job to make sure Emma was looked after, as frustrating of a job that it was. And besides, Killian Jones should be dead. Regina stands out of sight of them for a moment, listening to their conversation.
"But, love, listen to reason-"
"Please, just let it rest," Emma says, pushing the plate back towards him. Regina is convinced the Darkness has taken Emma's heart, now, if she is declining fried food.
Regina approaches the two, unsure exactly of her plan, but now that she has her memories back, she can't just let Emma do as she pleases. She can't allow Emma to keep Killian as a pet, to let the Darkness worm its way into his heart while he remains ignorant to the fact that his soul is forfeit, that his wounds are mortal. There is always a price, as Gold would say, and in this case, Regina is forced to agree.
She sits down in the booth across from the pair of Dark Ones, and Emma looks none too happy to see her. "I heard Merlin has some sort of plan, with the dagger and the flame," Regina says, because it's the truth, but also because she wants to see what Emma is willing to reveal, and whether she sounds ready to rid herself of the curse.
Emma taps the table, restless, constantly in motion, and Regina wonders if the Dreamcatchers were convenient to capture their memories, but also gave her something to do. She looks like she can't be idle - she is unrecognizable from the Emma of before, who could settle down on the couch with a mug of cocoa and stay in one position for hours. Emma meets Regina's gaze. "Can't trust Merlin - Arthur has too much influence over him. We need to do it ourselves."
Emma says this is a low voice, just loud enough for Hook and Regina to hear. But the use of 'we' is interesting. Regina can't tell who it includes: Emma and her parents, Emma and Hook, all three of them at the table, or some other combination - perhaps Gold? Emma could just be referring to herself and the Darkness inside of her as separate entities, for all Regina knows. Secretly, she hopes Emma will rely on her, both because it shows her that Emma is still in there, somewhere, and because she doesn't trust anyone but herself and Emma to do right by this town. "What's the next step?" Regina asks, daring Emma to include her.
Emma slides the dagger onto the table, then passes it to Regina. Hook watches them with concern, but doesn't go to stop the exchange. "I need you to store this, somewhere very safe. Somewhere where Arthur can't get to it. And I'll need it back, at the end."
Regina glances down at the dagger, but there is only one name on it: Emma Swan. She wonders why - though there could be many explanations. She takes it and slides it under the table, out of sight, but the feel of it in her hand is great and terrible - there is Power there. She knows instantly that this dagger will command the Dark One. Even if Emma can elude her questions or try to skirt her with half-answers, the Dark One cannot resist her commands. And she's angry. Angry at Emma shutting her out, trying to solve these problems by herself. Angry at what she's seen in the Dreamcatchers: Emma tricking Violet to hurt Henry, scheming with Gold, hiding the truth from Killian and Robin. Could there have been a better solution if they had worked together? Who knows now, the chance was missed.
Still, she needs to be careful. She doesn't want Hook or Emma to know that she has seen the stolen memories. She doesn't want Emma to see this as a betrayal. "I will do it," she says calmly. "But in exchange, tell me, Emma, are you ready to be rid of the Darkness?"
Emma's tapping ceases, and Regina is only aware that she had been tapping this entire time by seeing her fingers suddenly go still. Around them, silverware continues to scrape, conversations cloak their scene, no one else in the diner aware that anything has changed. Emma seems to be struggling with the question, her brow furrowing and she almost looks ill. Regina wonders if she's fighting against the compulsion of the dagger to answer the question, and if so, why.
"I am not ready, yet," Emma admits. "Everything is not in place yet." The words are choked out, almost torn from her. She looks ashamed.
Hook is shooting daggers at Regina, but she's been locked out, she wants answers. She can't understand how he's so patient, so fine with not knowing. She would have thought he'd be as curious as she is for the knowledge that can only be gleaned by force. "Are you saying that because there's truly a plan, or because you're afraid to loose the power of the Dark One?" she asks, her hand around the dagger comforting. The curse controls Emma, but she controls the curse, so she's not entirely powerless anymore.
"Regina, that's enough," Hook warns. "Put the dagger away."
Emma bangs her wrist on the table, as if this question is really one she'd rather not answer, but the force of keeping it inside is unbearable. Now, one or two people look over at the table from the noise, but quickly turn away. "Both," she says. She's breathing more heavily now.
"Regina-" Hook says, to stop her from pushing any further.
"I'm finished. I will hide it. But you have some thinking to do, Dark One."
Regina abandons going into the office as the mess with the people from Camelot and the Dark Ones stretches out towards two weeks. She has her assistant send her everything she needs to work from home, as she becomes obsessed with the dagger, fixated on the idea that Arthur, or Merlin, or even Snow or Charming - deceived by the Camelot crew, might come to try to steal it while she's out.
So she works from home, but it's not even working, just sipping coffee, checking her emails, taking essential phone calls, and reading through all the grimoires in her collection to try to find something that will help with the mess that Emma is dealing with. Rationally, she knows she can't blame Emma. The curse on Emma came from Gold, and the Dark One before him, all the way back to Nimue, she learned through the Dreamcatchers. Oh, she would throttle that woman, given the chance. But she has no outlet for her frustration except Emma, right now. Emma, who is scheming all alone and who is tethering people's lives to the curse.
She hears movement in her entryway, and wonders if this is it - if this is the moment someone comes to steal the dagger. "Henry?" she calls, knowing he's still at school, but trying to alert any potential intruder to her presence.
"Just me." She's shocked to hear Emma's voice, and if anything, this keeps her on alert. Was Emma here regretting her decision, come to reclaim the dagger by force? If so, Regina should stop her, but she wonders if her power would be enough. She feels torn - angry at Emma for putting her in this position, for putting them all in this position, but also a creeping, unfamiliar sort of love. Emma took on the Dark One curse for her. Emma brought Robin back for her. Emma trusted her with the dagger. Whatever Emma's plans were, she wants to have some faith in the other woman.
"Emma?"
Emma steps into the room, her hair still in that severe bun, her arms exposed in a sleeveless black dress. It's disconcerting, this version of Emma, and she has to remind herself that this is the curse: invading her mind, changing the way she makes decisions. This Emma is her Emma, but also isn't. "What's wrong?" she asks, unsure of how she knows something is even wrong, but it must be, from the way Emma almost slumps into the chair across from her. They're seated at the dining room table, where Henry likes to do his homework. Regina closes her laptop.
"You know what happened," Emma says, her fingers tapping on the varnished wood. Restlessly, endlessly.
"I do."
Emma nods, as if this was just a check to confirm her suspicions. She reaches into the bag she brought, and pulls out a Dreamcatcher. "This one is yours. I am going to undo the Magic, to return the memories. It will be different than you just seeing what happened."
Regina wonders what scheme this is, why the Dark One would offer this. Everything has a price, after all. But she agrees, and Emma unwinds the string, chanting the incantation, and her memories return. It is like watching them, but worse, because she remembers. She was there. She can smell and taste and feel everything how it was. She can hear their voices. She sees Robin helping Arthur break the curse, the one that dooms him. She sees herself fighting with Emma, begging Emma to do something, anything, to help.
She wasn't there when Emma bound Hook as a Dark One, so she doesn't remember that. She doesn't remember Emma stealing their memories. She doesn't remember the hundreds of hours Emma must have spent spinning Dreamcatchers.
Emma keeps glancing towards the window, and towards the doorway that they both know leads to the vault. She puts one hand on the wrist of the other, the hand against the table continuing to tap. "Well? What should I have done?" She's asking Regina about the decisions in Camelot, the use of Dark magic.
Regina closes her laptop and looks at Emma. Emma glances again at the doorway towards the vault, then back at Regina. "Are you asking me as Emma, or as the Dark One?"
Emma sighs. For the first time since they've gotten back, she looks exhausted. "I don't know. It doesn't matter. Whichever one gets everyone out of this."
"Emma, why are you here?"
Emma stands, pacing across the back wall of the dining room. "Because you're the only one I can talk to. My parents mean well, but they are too easily deceived, and they won't understand what I've done or why I've done it. Gold just wants his power back. And Hook, well…"
"You're afraid to tell him what you did to him?" Regina guesses. She walks to the other side of the table to stand before Emma. She stops Emma before she can turn around again, her hands on Emma's arms. She's cold, though Regina doesn't know why she expected any different - Emma was out without a coat again in cold weather, with a Dark curse in her heart.
"I don't love him."
Regina feels Emma finally, finally stop moving as she says this, and there is a stillness that settles over them. This confession is real, true, from Emma's own mouth, unforced by the dagger, and yet it seems it took just as much effort to say. "What are you talking about? I saw what you did for him." Emma loves Hook. She thinks this while still refusing to let go of Emma's cold arms, unsure if she is part of the force holding Emma upright in her dining room.
"He was going to die, Regina! There was so much blood. I would have done the same for anyone - for you…" She exhales, her eyes trailing to the floor, as if she knows such a thought exercise is purposeless. Making Regina a Dark One defeats the purpose of Emma taking on the curse in the first place.
"You would have found another way." She says it firmly, and immediately Emma's demeanor changes. She pulls away from Regina's touch, her back again rigid.
"There was nothing else. He would die. Or he would be cursed. That was it."
"Then better a death," Regina says, but it's hollow, for she already knows the words Emma is going to shoot back.
"That's not what you said when Robin was dying!"
Of course not. Because she loves him. Right? But she thought Emma loved Hook until moments ago. She is no stranger to curses herself, she doesn't even know why she is lecturing Emma on the correct time to use Dark magic. But she's too bound up, too tense to even think about taking any of it back - to apologize, so she stays silent.
Emma seems to take the silence as a concession, and continues. "I don't love Hook, but I didn't want to let him die, not when I could stop it. But… I can feel it - the Dark One curse… maybe this is worse than death." The tapping is back, this time against her thigh. "I gave you the dagger and your memories because… if I'm not me anymore, I trust you to wield it."
"Emma, no." She can use it to get Emma to answer a question, she can't imagine herself compelling Emma to doing her bidding, to make Emma do something her entire being is fighting against.
But Emma steps closer, and it's intimate, the kind of feeling she's been lacking with Robin since they've been back. "Eventually I will come to hate you. But right now, while I'm still me, I'm telling you I trust you with this. Only you."
Regina is not surprised, exactly, when Killian shows up at her door, but it's not as if she's been waiting for a chance to spend more time with the man. "What's happening to me?" he barks at her, practically falling through the threshold as she opens the door to let him in.
She had thought the Dark One had taken its toll on Emma, but it looks far worse on Killian - purple circles under his bloodshot eyes, a jittery unevenness to his movements, a sharpness, an anger that wasn't there before. Yes, he is certainly carrying Darkness, and he isn't sure where to direct it. Regina was on guard.
"Keep your voice down, Henry is asleep. But do come in." She ushers him inside, unwilling to have this conversation on her stoop, and he obeys, glancing over his shoulder, then around her home, in the same furtive way that Emma had. "Where's Emma?" she asks.
He sits on the sofa she directs him to, tentatively, as if he is afraid he will dirty the white fabric. But he can't avoid sitting, and so he does, facing Regina as she sits in the matching armchair, across the parlor. "We… got in an argument," he says, his voice low.
She wants to ask what about, she wants to ask where Emma is now, but she can feel his tension, can feel that Hook is close to a breaking point. She waits, listening.
"She is still at home, consulting some stupid book about the curse. I know it's useless, that there's no way to end it without…"
He trails off, and she wonders if he's pieced it together already, even without his memories. Because Hook loves Emma too much, trusts her too blindly, is too afraid of her rejection to sneak a peek at the Dreamcatchers. "Without putting the curse into someone else?" she suggests. She's come to such a conclusion herself, as well.
He nods, swallowing so hard his Adam's apple bobs. Then he leans forward, to speak in almost a whisper. "It's already inside me, isn't it?" he asks. "I saw a glimpse of it, when she opened the locked door. I think it said Killian Jones." He scratches his nail along the fabric of the couch, back and forth, back and forth, and she pictures the curse, running like black ichor in his veins, chilling him like death.
"What did you see?" she asks, trying to keep him focused.
"There's a locked door, in the house. It's got a blade in it, like the one she gave you. But this one…" he pauses, his hand trembling. "I don't know, I only saw it for a second."
"You know what you saw. It had your name?"
He nods. Regina assumes this is what they argued about, whether it was over Hook looking in the prohibited door or asking about the blade itself. She exhales, trying to maintain some semblance of calm, and understand what this means. There are two halves of Excalibur, and there are two Dark Ones. If the blade is reforged… she doesn't know exactly, but she doesn't think Killian will survive.
"You were going to die, in Camelot, and Emma cursed you to save you," Regina says. "I think, should that sword be reforged, you will die as fate intended."
He doesn't react at first, except that his hands still. "You need to hurry," he says, after a moment. Then, his voice quieter, and lower, as if he can hide his plans from the curse, he tells her. "I can feel it. It wants vengeance. It wants violence. I don't know how much longer I can hold it back. Please. Put it all into me, and then kill me."
Regina has two obstacles to ending the Dark One curse, once she has Hook on board. The first is Robin, who she knows, in some way, is also tethered to the curse. The second is Emma. She decides to figure out Robin first, recounting every detail of the night he was saved with Emma's magic, and looking up things that will help her unravel this quagmire of curses and other magical lore.
Henry comes home while she's working, with Violet in tow. The two of them seem to be assigned some school project together, and they set up in the living room, books spread out around them, a mirror of her work in the dining room.
"Mom, is it alright if Violet stays for dinner?" Henry asks her, an hour or so later.
She hadn't even thought of dinner, to be honest, she was so wrapped up in her research. "Of course she can stay, but I think I'll just swing by Granny's and pick up something. Let me know what you want."
She does so, noticing Emma there when she goes to get her food. "What did you tell him?" Emma asks, turning on her immediately. It's not the same Emma she spoke with days ago, this Emma is severe, warped by the curse.
"I didn't tell him anything," she says. It's half a lie, but she risks it.
She can see the muscles in Emma's shoulders tense, her frustration visible. "He knows," she hisses.
Regina wonders why she doesn't just spin another Dreamcatcher of Hook, but imagines there's probably a good reason. "Listen to yourself," she says, trying to sound more assured than she really is. "You should be grateful that there's one less secret you have to hide. But now you're like a witch, spiteful and ready to curse everyone to hold onto your power."
Emma looks like she hasn't even heard Regina, too concerned with something going on in her own mind. Regina picks up the dinner and leaves, hopeful that the sooner she figures out Robin's problem, the sooner she can free Emma.
Over dinner, Henry explains the project they are working on. "It's pretty different from anything Violet's done in Camelot, and she's still kicking my butt at all this research," he brags.
She blushes but smiles, obviously as fond of Henry as he is of her. "It's interesting. In Camelot, a lot of our magic is tied to the land itself. It's place-based Magic. But here, we're doing our geography project, so even though I don't know any of these places, the concept is kind of familiar."
She doesn't want to alarm them, but her heart is beating rapidly. Why hadn't she thought to ask someone from Camelot about their magic? "I'm always a little curious about magic systems," she says. "Can you tell me more about place magic?"
Violet looks a little unsure, and Regina wonders if she is skeptical of the Evil Queen, but then she says, "I was never trained in magic, so I only know theory. But basically, our magic is connected to the place it is cast. That's why Excalibur is so unstable right now."
After dinner, Regina targets her searches better, until she finds what she needs. She consults Belle to be sure, and the two of them feel fairly confident she's gotten to the bottom of it. Though she only tells Belle part of the problem, for risk of Gold finding out, so Regina infers the rest for herself. She's relieved, and also devastated. The next day, she goes to see Robin. It's raining, and she can feel the oppressive gray sky as she climbs the stairs to his apartment. She hasn't come here in ages - both of them preferring to meet at her home, or on neutral ground.
But he answers the door, looking surprised to see her. "Regina, come in," he offers, and he pours her a cup of coffee.
She sits and drinks it and makes small talk, but how does she break into the hard part? How does she tell him he needs to leave this realm? That he will probably live but she can't guarantee it? That he will never see any of them again? That she doesn't love him?
"I can fix the curse," she says.
He smiles, but it's a little tense, as if he already knows there's a catch. "Regina, that's great."
"You are part of it," she says. It's like pulling a bandage off, better to do it swiftly, she reasons.
"I don't understand," he says. She can see them, dark, bleeding wounds to his chest, hemorrhages that would not heal without deep, potent magic. Even though they're only a memory transposed on reality, she knows it's only Emma's Dark One curse keeping such injuries at bay.
"You were dying, in Camelot. Emma saved you. To undo the Dark One curse would be not only to return the wounds, but-" her voice shakes. This is harder to say than she imagined. She has seen him less and less in the past weeks, but still, they were close. She cared for him. "But would return you to Camelot," she finishes, forcing strength into her voice.
She can only imagine the fright of such an idea, to him who doesn't even have his memories from their first trip to Camelot. He sits there silently for a moment, understanding the implications of what she's said. "I'm as good as dead," he says at last.
"I have found a potion, to heal your wounds, now that I've had time to research," she says. "But I cannot stop the magic of Camelot from bringing you back. In fact, it will bring all of the Camelot residents back as well."
"Great! I'll just become a squire, then, I guess," he says, a rare flare of sarcasm from him showing through. "Regina, I- how can this be it?"
She doesn't know, and she tells him as such. It's the best she can figure out to save as many of them as she can. "There's so much magic in Camelot, I want to believe you'll be able to come back to Storybrooke, but I can't promise that, Robin."
"And you'll wait for me?"
Her silence is telling, and he curses, and she wonders if this entire month has just been a slow, drawn out breakup between them. But then he takes a deep breath, and seems to return to himself. "It'll be ok, I know it will, Regina. I know you're doing what's best for everyone. I just need a little time."
"Of course."
She needs to talk to Henry, she realizes, when she gets home and sees him finishing his homework at the dining room table. There's a slump to his shoulders, now, a fatigue that has settled in after weeks of the Darkness holding Emma, something that isn't relieved even with his new friend from Camelot.
"How was your day?" she asks him, pulling out some ingredients for dinner.
He shrugs. "Fine. I didn't do as well as I wanted to on that science test."
Normally she would ask for details, she would inquire as to where he went wrong, what the test topic was or if he had too little sleep. But she can't blame him for being distracted, and today she wants to talk to him about something else, truly. "I think I've figured it out," she says. There's no use delaying it anymore, she might as well say it. She stops fiddling with the pots and pans and turns to face him at the kitchen island. "I think I can reverse the Curse."
Henry drops his pencil, looking up at her in shock. "Really?"
She nods. "Belle helped me figure it out, and it will take a few days to get everything together, but I… well, I need to talk to you about this, Henry."
She can see it, the hope in his eyes, the smile inching at the corner of his mouth. He's entranced with the idea that they could be out the other side of this curse sooner than later, and she doesn't want to break the illusion. "What is it, mom?" he asks.
"The magic, the way it works… when we undo the Curse, it's going to send everyone from Camelot back to their world."
He's silent for a moment, letting this sink in. Then he nods. "So Violet will get to go home," he surmises.
"I'm sorry, Henry."
"How much time do we have?"
She bites her lip. She doesn't want to give away the exact plan, doesn't dare want to imagine it leaking to Arthur or Emma. But she can't imagine betraying Henry, letting him wake up to seeing Violet just gone one morning. "In two more nights. Just before dawn."
"I won't tell her," he says, as if he's just decided. "We'll just have fun for a couple more days."
"I'm sorry, Henry, I wish there was another way."
He nods. "I know, mom. But Ma took the Curse on for everyone in the town, right? So it makes sense that we have to give something up for her to be rid of it."
It is a strange sort of logic, but he's not exactly wrong. Sacrifices would be made, by all of them, and she nods. She comes around and kisses his forehead. "Thank you for understanding," she says. "You have my permission to stay out an extra hour the next two nights with Violet," she adds. "But it would be best if you did as you said, and didn't mention the reason why to anyone. The less people know about the plan to break the curse, the better chance it has of succeeding."
Henry nods, making a gesture like he's locking his lips with an imaginary key.
The plans are set, and after deliberation, even Robin is ready. "I can't live on a curse, I understand that," he tells her, coming to pick her up. "But answer me truthfully. Is there no future for us?"
Her mind is consumed with all the possible ways this night could end, with the very real danger of the Dark One curse running rampant in her town again, and for this reason she is unprepared for Robin confronting her about their relationship. "I- I'm sorry," she says, once she has a minute to think about it. "But I'm afraid not."
He sighs, and the understands that even as she is handing him a potion to cure his wounds, she is inflicting new ones on him this very moment. Is there a way to save everyone, without hurting anyone, really? He kisses her gently, on the cheek, and it is as good of a goodbye as any.
"Thank you, for understanding," she says.
He gives a grim half-smile, as if trying to communicate that he really doesn't understand, even now, but he's willing to trust in her. "I'm glad we had the time we did," he replies.
They walk to where they are to meet, at the edge of the lake, and true to his side of the arrangement, Killian brings Emma.
"What is this?" Emma asks, when they arrive. She's all angles, stiff posture and sunken cheeks, gaze shifting back and forth from Regina to Killian, as if they've betrayed her somehow. Can't you see we're trying to save you? Regina wants to shake her.
"You managed to arrange all this without alerting the Camelot contingent," Killian surmises, an impressed look on his face.
It's true, it's just the four of them, not even Gold heard about this nighttime excursion. Regina didn't dare breathe a word of the plan to the Darlings, certain as she was they would blab to Arthur or Merlin. This needed to end tonight, without any more complications. Regina nods at Killian, ignoring Emma's question. "Yes, I preferred something more… private. Did you bring it?"
He nods back.
Emma, discontent at being ignored, approaches Regina. "What is this? What are you planning?"
"I'm going to fix everything," Regina assures her. She sighs, coming to terms with what is about to happen. She wants Emma to see reason, to willingly give up the curse, she doesn't want to force her to do anything. But Emma took this curse for her, and she will set it right. She takes the dagger out from under her coat, and Emma's ceaseless tapping stops for one moment, then two, her fingers trembling against her thigh as her eyes are fixated on the blade.
She wills her gaze up to Regina, in anger, but behind the look Regina can see fear. Emma is afraid of what kind of command she might give. Emma may hold the power of the Curse, but right now, Regina holds power over her. "Give me the other half of the blade," she says, keeping her voice as calm and neutral as possible.
She knows Emma has it, knows Emma wouldn't leave the house without it. Wouldn't dare to leave it unguarded with Arthur wandering around. And sure enough, Emma reaches down into her boot and pulls out the long tip of the blade, dazzling even at night, the matched pair to the one in Regina's hand.
Emma looks frustrated, fighting against the compulsion of the order, but she is forced to comply, handing the blade to Regina. Robin is over her shoulder, watching silently, and Killian behind Emma, like their seconds in a duel. Once this is done, Regina nods to Killian, and he brings it, the pilfered flame, the spark of Prometheus carried in a small lantern under his jacket. The flickering belies what a powerful magical weapon it is, and Emma looks at Killian with pure betrayal. "You stole that!" she accuses.
"You stole it first," he offers back.
Interestingly, Emma offers no resistance, no obstruction to Regina as she uses the flame to reforge the blades together into one. Had Emma wanted this, too? What was her plan, here? Regina doesn't bother to dwell on this, performing the ritual, using the spark of the Flame to combine the blades until the Sword of Excalibur is whole once more. She wields it carefully, knowing a simple nick would be deadly.
"Here's what is going to happen," Regina says, in the same neutral tone. "Killian has agreed to take on the entirety of the Dark One curse."
Emma shakes her head, and Regina knows she's putting the plan together. Killian grabs her hand. "Yes, love. Let me do this of my own free will. Once I am stabbed with the blade, I can free you from the curse, and this will be over."
"No."
"Robin's wounds will return, but I have crafted an antidote. And the people of Camelot will return home," Regina finishes.
"No."
"Emma, you have to put all of your Darkness inside of me. We have to be absolutely sure the curse dies with me."
Emma shakes her head slowly, uncomprehendingly. "You're both speaking so logically, like this has all been decided. We're talking about killing someone!"
Killian nods, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "I should have died weeks ago, back in Camelot. I am glad for the extra time, glad that I can use it to rid you of your curse as well. Emma, please understand this is the best way."
Emma continues shaking her head. "No. I can control it. I can manage it. No one needs to die."
"It's a curse, Emma! No one can be saved with a curse!" Regina is losing her temper now. She holds the sword out, commanding Emma. "Tell me honestly, Dark One, that the reasons you want your powers are not simply selfishness."
And Emma sinks to her knees with the power of coming up with this answer, with the dilemma it proves. "I want-" she chokes out, her face defiant, "To save everyone- which is more than I can say for you!"
Killian kneels down, across from Emma, all of his frustrating swagger gone. He seems weighted down with the curse, or perhaps with the fact that he should already be dead. Perhaps it's just the effort of watching Emma suffer like this. Regina knows she feels weighed down in dread at this moment. "Emma," he says, "Listen to me. You did save me. You saved the whole town. And now, Regina and I are going to save you. I need you to trust me. Please."
She nods, and Regina doesn't know if she truly believes him, or if she's just tired of fighting. "Let me do it," Emma says. "I want the blood on my hands, no one else's."
"Wouldn't want it any other way." Killian stays kneeling, but Emma stands. Regina realizes she needs to give Emma Excalibur, and she hesitates, wondering if she's dooming them instead of saving them. But Emma said she trusted Regina to save her, and this was the plan Regina came up with. Emma had said she needed the dagger back at the end, even though she couldn't have predicted this. Regina nods her head and hands over the sword.
Instantly, there's an outpouring of Darkness from Emma, and it enters Killian, right into his mouth, seeming to fill his chest. There's so much Curse leaving Emma that Regina wonders if there's anything left behind inside of Emma beside bone and sinew, if she still carries any blood or guts or memories, or if that was why she was so obsessed with capturing them in her Dreamcatchers. Finally, the torrent ends, and Emma looks Killian in the eye. "I don't know if we were soulmates, but I cared about you, a lot," she says. "I don't know if this happened because you knew me, and if it did, I'm sorry."
But he smiles, despite the obvious pain, despite the raging storm inside of him. "I'd do it again and again for you, love," he says, his tone falsely breezy.
Emma nods, smiling a little, and charges him. And it's bizarre: the way the Darkness turns inward instead of out, the way it collapses in on itself. And then Regina misses the end, as Robin cries out, and she rushes to unstopper the antidote in his hands, rushes to pour it past his lips. But he's already fading away, a portal appearing just beyond him. She is sure to watch him drink it all down, and she sees the fear on his face: going to a strange place, but without the curse, she wonders if his memories will return now, at last, and she watches him go, hoping against hope he can make it back again.
When she again turns around, Excalibur is gone, presumably back to Camelot. Killian's body is gone - and she supposes that was a detail she had forgotten - he was turned into a Dark One there, so when his Curse was undone, he would return. Or perhaps the end of the Dark One literally destroys the final cursebearer. She wasn't watching it happen.
But Emma is still there, kneeling in the mud where it happened, Killian's blood on her but nothing to show for it - no sword, no body, no black muck of Darkness. It was just them, in the vague half-light of predawn.
Henry stays home from school the next morning, and Regina stays with him. The whole town seems quiet, she thinks, seized by the sudden disappearance of the Camelot residents. They go to Granny's for breakfast, and Regina doesn't miss the way that Ruby puts an extra large dollop of whipped cream and sprinkles on top of Henry's hot chocolate.
"Did it work?" Henry asks, once their breakfast is before them and they're alone, at least relatively. She's surprised he waited this long to ask, but she supposes he's afraid, worried her answer would be 'no'.
She nods. "It worked. The curse is gone. The people of Camelot have gone home." She doesn't say the rest aloud, that Robin has gone with them, or that Killian is dead. He'll find out soon enough, she knows. People talk.
She sees the way his tension seems to fall away in relief, the way he finally relaxes enough to start in on his food and drink. He puts the mug down and comes away with a ridiculous whipped cream mustache and she lets herself smile for the first time in she doesn't know how long.
"When can I see her?" he asks, biting his lip nervously. She had kept him away from Emma for weeks, afraid of the curse, afraid Emma would hurt him or cling harder to the curse out of a misplaces protective instinct, and now she wants to reunite them, but all she can think of is Emma's empty stare the night before, Emma emptied of the curse, but dull and numb after stabbing Killian.
"Soon," she assures him. She's sure that seeing Henry will do Emma good. She eats her own breakfast, watching him, admiring him. She knows he's lost someone, too. Just as she did, just as Emma did, and he did so willingly, in order to help them end the curse. "I'm proud of you," she says.
He looks up at her in surprise. Had she never said such a thing to him? Then he smiles gently. "Thanks, Mom. I'm glad Violet got to go home."
Regina, unfortunately, is woefully behind on her mayoral duties, so she spends the rest of her day organizing her work for the next week. Thankfully, this is not her busy season, but the fact that she has put off meetings with various people and delayed reviewing several budgetary concerns means that she does actually have to do her job, in the office, much more consistently than she has been. She supposes this is only fair: it will give Emma some time to catch up with her parents, with Henry, with everyone else in town, and they will have some time to decompress before they fully have to talk about what happened.
And that is the curse of the Savior, she supposes. She spends all her time trying to save Emma, and once she does, she has to return to running the town, and the Darlings can step in and comfort their precious daughter. She hears about such things second-hand from Henry, who has been dutiful in his school attendance after the one day he missed, but has been trying to spend as much time with Emma as she'll allow, doing his homework at her apartment, inviting her to all manner of school functions, and trying to get her to spend long, meandering weekend days in some teenage revival of Operation Mongoose.
"I'm afraid Ma wants to quit her job," he tells Regina over dinner, one Sunday night, two weeks after the curse is lifted. Regina had seen Emma a handful of times since, but never long enough to have a proper conversation, whether due to Emma's excellent avoidance skills, or Regina's unfortunately packed schedule.
"What makes you say that?" she asks. They're eating at home, just the two of them, so she's not afraid to have this conversation with him, and she even refrains from chastising him about talking with his mouth full.
"Today, earlier, when we were out, she looked tired, and I asked if work was busy, and she said it was fine. She said Mulan is trained up enough now, she can take over as Sheriff."
Regina nods, understanding she'll need to look into this before Emma does something crazy like tries to leave town. But for right now, there's no reason to worry Henry. "Are you sleeping alright?" she asks. "It's not like you to only get a B- on your English test," she says, her voice not fully serious, but she sees Henry blanch nonetheless.
"You saw that already?"
The next morning, Regina makes a trip to the police station. It was on her list of tasks for later in the week, anyways, so she shuffled some things around to move this trip up. Emma is there, sitting at her desk, her hair still back in that tight bun, though she is back in her jeans and leather jacket. "Morning, Emma, Mulan," she greets.
"Morning, Mayor Mills," Mulan replies, standing near the coffee pot. "Coffee?"
"I'm ok, thank you. I just came for a word with the Sheriff."
Emma looks up at her, finally, and immediately Regina can see the fatigue Henry was referring to. Emma has dark shadows under her eyes, and though her pallor is not as great as when she was the Dark One, she looks distinctly 'off' from her normal self. "Certainly, Mayor," Emma says, leading them to a private office.
They sit, and it feels normal, for a moment, to be here, to be colleagues in this town, helping to keep it running, but then the moment ends, and she is struck by the absolute absurdity of it. "What do you want?" Emma whispers harshly. "I am doing my reports, I am doing my job by the book. What can you possibly have to find fault with?"
Regina takes a deep breath, realizing only then how tired she feels, too. How many weeks on weeks she had spent trying to break the curse, putting aside her own life, her career, her relationship, losing Robin, rushing to catch up on everything now, only to get absolutely no thanks for her efforts. "Henry was concerned," she says. "He thought perhaps you might be quitting this job, and I wanted to see that I wasn't losing my Sheriff."
Emma gives half an eye roll, as if she couldn't even muster the effort for the full gesture. Regina eyes Emma's hands on the desk: absolutely still. Her fingers did not tap, they didn't even fidget. There was nothing left to give. "Yeah, I'd like to offer my resignation." Her lips twitch into the ghost of a smile, as if there was something even a little funny about the sentence.
"Rejected."
"You can't be serious. No one even commits crimes in this town, Regina. This position is a jobs program. I just-"
"I need you to be the Sheriff." She says it firmly, offering no room for argument. She doesn't even know why she feels so strongly, she just absolutely cannot let Emma go.
Emma sighs, closing her eyes for a moment as if to relieve some of the fatigue that seems to be bone-deep. Then, when she speaks again, her voice is eerily calm. "Regina, I murdered someone. You cannot kill someone, with full knowledge of what you are doing, and still be the Sheriff."
Still, her hands are still. "And I planned the act. I had planned on doing it myself, even, if necessary. Most would argue that would exclude me from being mayor," she reasons. "But we're not a normal town. Killian was a dead man resurrected. And that was a curse we were eradicating. The normal rules did not apply." How could she explain that that was exactly why she needed Emma Swan as her Sheriff - for those rare occurrences where the normal rules didn't apply, where her gut instinct and quick judgment could save them all time and time again?
Emma doesn't reply for a while. "I still have to pay rent," she says, in the end. "So I won't quit today."
It's the best Regina can hope for.
It's another week before Regina breaks. She 'caught up' on her work three days prior, her primary secretary commending her on her efforts. The budget was set to be voted on by the council at the end of the week, and she had meetings with the chamber of commerce and the parks division that afternoon, but there was something that had been building, something that that morning in particular, she was unable to let go.
Robin was gone - lost through the portal. She couldn't help but fear that the antidote didn't work perfectly, that he died in a strange land he knew nothing about. Or that he survived, but the cunning trickery of the Camelot court fooled him for a second time. She didn't love him, she understood that now, but still - she wasn't so heartless as to feel alright with potentially dooming someone she cared about, or anyone for that matter.
And there was Killian - someone she objectively despised. There were the obvious things: his terrible style, his stupid swagger, but also the way he seemed diametrically opposed to her on most things. But Emma had taken the curse for Regina, and Killian had taken the curse for Emma, and died for it. Didn't that make Killian's sacrifice a little bit for Regina too, in the end? Such a thing frustrated her to no end, and made her dislike the man even more.
But mostly, it's just the work. And the mothering. And the worrying about Emma. She was tired, thinking about all of the above. She was running herself ragged trying to catch up for the time she missed while she was distracted with the Dark One, and she was trying to make sure no one knew how much this burden was costing her by preparing the usual home cooked meals, wearing the same perfectly pressed outfits and perfectly coiffed hairstyles at work everyday, and trying not to miss a beat at a press conference for something as serious as a border dispute or as mundane as a birthday party.
So that afternoon, when her secretary tells her the chamber of commerce meeting might have to be rescheduled because Mr. Gold isn't sure he can make it and Granny's arthritis is flaring up, she tells her 'yes, better reschedule it, and the parks meeting, too,' and leaves without another thought. Her first thought is to take a nap, just to lay down and forget the world, but she knows from experience that her brain is incapable of shutting off easily, so instead she starts walking.
She ends up along the water - easily the best place to walk in Storybrooke - and soon enough she is at the little inlet where they broke the Dark One curse that night, almost a month ago now. What she doesn't expect is for Emma to be there, sitting at the little bench, looking into the middle distance somewhere between where Killian disappeared and the water. She nods in greeting, trying to snap Emma out of her reverie.
"Regina," Emma says, as if trying to fathom how she came to be in such a location. "Do you ever regret it?" she asks.
"Regret what?" She has many regrets, but she wants Emma to name this one.
"Never mind," she says, shaking her head.
"No," Regina says, walking closer. "I want to talk about this."
Emma waits for Regina to close the distance between them, and again Regina is struck by her stillness. Her fingers are not tapping, her body is not itching to move, to do something. She is just as lost as Regina feels, now that things have been reset. "I should have been able to love him," Emma says, her face falling.
And it's not the confession Regina was expecting, not at all what she is expecting to say, so she has to actively try to hold back the surprise on her face. "What?" Regina says, but she doesn't picture Emma and Hook, but herself and Robin. I should have been able to love him. As if this was a personal fault. She can feel her throat get tight, and can't name the emotion she's feeling, in the moment.
Emma's face tightens. "You did all that research. You must know true love's kiss is supposed to break the Dark One curse. That would have helped, right?" Emma kicks a pebble, and Regina watches her from behind. She had dismissed the idea entirely because it was based upon the prerequisite that the Dark One wanted the curse gone, and she couldn't guarantee that, with Emma. "Back in Camelot, he kissed me at this moment that I really, really wanted it gone, and just… nothing. It wasn't him, I know he loved me. I just… didn't love him back. Not enough, at least."
"Is that why you were so upset him taking the curse? Because he loved you more?"
Emma looks at Regina with a mixture of frustration and anger. "No, not exactly. I just… there's no reason he should die for my actions. I caused this, it was my mess to clean up."
"And mine," Regina amends. "Every night I can't sleep, wondering if there was another way, if I could have saved everyone. If I could have kept Robin here in Storybrooke."
"Oh, Robin," Emma says, rubbing her eyes with her palms. "Regina, I'm sorry."
"He'll be alright, he agreed to the plan. Everyone knew what they were doing, everyone knew the risks."
Emma nods, trying to accept this, much like Regina has been. "Why are you here?" Emma asks, after a while.
"Took the afternoon off. Wanted a little time to myself."
"Oh, I won't keep you then."
"No, I don't mind. We could walk?"
Emma agrees, and Regina is surprised. She feels different today, from the sarcastic version of herself Regina encountered at the sheriff's office. Maybe this was just what happened when they got to thinking too much about the Curse and the night that ended it. They walk along the little path by the river. It's nice to be like this, away from their roles as mayor and sheriff, away from the burdens of Savior. Emma asks about how Henry is doing in school, and shares what he's said so far about his time in the stage crew in the school play.
Eventually, they agree to both take him out to dinner, and he surprised but delighted to share dinner with them both. "Everything is really alright?" he checks, used to them only being seen together when there is some emergency.
"It's really fine, kid. I just caught your mom skipping out on work and brought her back in, like a good sheriff." Emma stuffs her face with french fries, and Henry joins her, the two of them deep in conversation about the plot of some ongoing action series.
And things more or less return to normal, until the next week, when she gets a call from Mulan that Emma hasn't been to work in two days. "Did you check her apartment?"
"Yes. Stopped by this morning since she wasn't at work yesterday and didn't call. No one home. Car's there, though."
Regina sighs. It's not unlike Emma to do something impulsive and stupid like this, to cut town without telling anyone, but she couldn't do so without her car. And she didn't think Emma would leave without talking to Henry, at least. Some worry begins to bubble up, unprovoked. Was Emma in trouble? The thought was so strange, for the sheriff, who was always taking care of other people, to be in danger, but Emma was secretive, good at hiding when she was hurting.
She relied on the curse for so long, she was probably having trouble adjusting to life without it. "Take a look around town at her favorite places," Regina says, "But don't ignore actual police matters. I'll spend some time searching as well." She doesn't give instructions on escalating the search, because she hopes it won't get to that level. She calls out of her morning meetings, once again putting work aside for Emma, and drives to the same beach she met Emma on last time.
No one is there, this time, there's no evidence of Killian, or Robin, and no sign of Emma. But she walks, further and further, to the one other place she can think of where Emma might be. It takes her a while to get there, and by the time she arrives she's thirsty and there are fresh blisters on the back of her heels, but the house is right where she remembers, tucked just within the trees but still along the coast. The room in the back that had once been filled with dream catchers is empty now, she sees, but the front is still furnished, and she bets Emma is inside.
She knocks, and after hearing no response, lets herself in. "Emma? Are you here?" She walks in further and sees Emma in the sitting room, sitting on a chair and staring out the large front window, watching the waves. She looks tired, and like she'd been crying not that long ago. Regina takes off her coat and puts down her bag, taking a moment to text Mulan that she's found Emma.
As she's putting her phone back in her bag, she sees the documents on the counter: a deed of sale issuing this home to Killian Jones. She pours two glasses of water and returns to the living room, sitting in the chair beside Emma. "Emma what are you doing here?" she asks, setting one of the glasses down and sipping from the other.
"We were supposed to live here," Emma says. "We fought over this, because I didn't want to… I told him it was too far away from town, that I didn't like the design, this and that, because I couldn't be honest that we just weren't right for each other."
Regina wonders if this isn't the same for her and Robin, something she'd known long before the Dark One curse came upon Storybrooke. She could distract herself with some small issue, or delight herself with some charm of Robin's, all to forget about one glaring truth: soulmates wasn't quite right, they just weren't really in love.
"So you came back here for what? To torture yourself?"
Emma sniffles, shaking her head. "I meant to get the deed, to go to the attorney." She sighs. "But I can't go to the attorney, or back to work, or do anything. What future do I have?"
Regina clicks her tongue. She doesn't want to chastise Emma, but she did not put in all the work to rid her of the curse to have Emma throw in the towel. She remembers when she watched the curse leave Emma, how it drained Emma of everything, and she wonders what is left behind inside of Emma, really. She sighs. "Whatever future you want, Emma. I don't know what I am doing either. I miss Robin, even though I feel similarly, that perhaps we weren't really as 'in love' as much as we were wishfully thinking." It feels blasphemous to say it aloud, and at the same time, she knows it's the truth, one she guarded so carefully, she deceived even herself.
Emma turns from the window, drawing her knees to her chest as she faces Regina. Inexplicably, she laughs a little.
"What's so funny?" Regina is thrown off, a bit, by Emma's amusement at her own vulnerability.
Emma, to her credit, composes herself quickly, pulling one of her knees up to her chest. "Nothing. It's not funny at all," she says. "I just… you always seem like you have your shit together."
Here Regina cracks a smile, thinking of how frazzled she'd felt these past few weeks, how hopeless she felt when she wasn't sure the curse could be broken, how she couldn't juggle her job, her home life, and the curse and its fallout without something dropping. And she had dropped something: she had lost Robin, he was gone from this realm entirely. "So it would seem, but it's amazing what a crisp blazer and a good blowout can hide," she says, sipping her water in the same diplomatic way she might at a business meeting. She realizes then, watching Emma, that it was possible she didn't just come to Regina to help her with the Dark One, but because she had felt lost in general, and Regina gave the impression of having it all together. Oh, how wrong she was.
Emma looks again at the waves, and then pulls herself away to meet Regina's eyes. "I don't think I ever thanked you," she says. "For figuring everything out. There was a reason I picked you to hold the dagger, you could ask the tough questions. I knew if anyone could, you'd get there."
Regina remembers the feeling of holding the dagger, of having almost too much power over Emma. It was good to feel, if only so she could learn that she absolutely never wanted anyone else to hold that dagger. The protective instinct that flares up in her surprises her, really. It isn't the same way she feels about Henry - parental - it's something else, something she isn't ready to name. She nods, a bit too overwhelmed to respond properly.
But Emma, it seems, is like a dam that's broken open, finally ready to talk about things that she's kept inside all this time. She continues. "I didn't want to die." She bites her lip, turning again to look at the tide crashing. "I would have, but I didn't want to."
"I know," Regina says. She feels the same. Because in all her research, in every possible way she had to end the curse, she never had considered any one where Emma died, not seriously. If it came to that, then it wasn't a real solution at all, and it was discarded. There had to be another way. She knows Emma's mortality is real, that being the Savior wasn't without risk, but it feels like she's just come to realize how much she cares about that particular fact. She clears her throat. "We should go back," Regina says, "Unless you keep that pantry stocked."
Emma bites her lips, and Regina isn't sure if it's because she's ended the conversation early, or because of something else. "No, I'm afraid the Dark One wasn't very food motivated," Emma says. "You can go, I think I'll watch the sunset."
Regina knows she's being dismissed, knows that backing away from the conversation means that Emma has decided to continue her vigil alone, and before the last few weeks, she would have respected that, but she held the dagger with Emma's name, she watched as Emma's curse left her and Killian and Robin left this realm. She and Emma share secrets that no one else in Storybrooke fully understands, because no one else on that beach that night is alive in Storybrooke anymore but the two of them. And so she doesn't want to leave Emma here alone, because that would mean that she, too, would be alone in leaving.
"You should come back with me. Join Henry and I for dinner. I'll make lasagna." She knows she's making the deal almost irresistible, with Henry and lasagna, and although Emma looks up at her petulantly for a moment, she acquiesces. Regina wonders when the last time she ate was, if she has been here for two days, and she takes care to pack up the documents that Emma came here for in the first place.
The walk to her mansion is long, much longer than she remembers it being from the one other time she made the trip, but that time, Regina had been so stunned by the revelations in the Dreamcatchers that she hadn't even noticed the distance. This time, with Emma beside her, she is conscious of exactly how far they are traversing through the back-paths of the woods to get across town, especially with her shoes rubbing on the raw spots on the back of her heels.
"I can't tell if it's the after-effects of the curse, or if I'm just… broken," Emma says, a half-step behind Regina as they walk, despite her far more sensible shoes and outfit.
"You're not broken," Regina assures her.
"I feel completely empty. Like there's nothing left inside."
This, at least, gives Regina pause, and Emma bumps into her back as she stops short on the path. Completely empty…. that was a distinct sort of feeling. But there was no way, was there? She turns around, facing Emma, the two of them in shadow under the trees in the early evening. She puts her hand to Emma's chest, and then, to be sure, her ear.
It's there, as expected, a heart beating a little faster than normal from the effort of the hike. Regina lets out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, fears of the curse somehow taking Emma's heart disappearing at the same time. It was illogical, it didn't make any sense, and yet, stranger things had happened.
She goes to stand, and sees Emma's cheeks red, her expression flustered. This, mixed with their proximity makes Regina revert into formality, because why was Emma so nervous about this? "You're fine, physically. The curse is lifted. Anything that feels strange is just from the shock, or grief." The 'just' feels like it's doing a lot of heavy lifting, and she wishes she could take it back once it has left her mouth, but it's too late, so she turns away, continuing to walk. A moment later she feels Emma continue on behind her.
When they get home, she offers Emma the guest bathroom to shower, and she accepts. She gives her a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt she got for volunteering at Henry's school that she's fairly sure was never worn, and retreats back to the kitchen to start on dinner. Henry is at his usual spot in the dining room, working on his homework, looking a little more cheerful than she's seen him in weeks.
"Is Ma here?" he asks her as she starts boiling water.
"Yes, she'll be joining us for dinner."
And Henry just lights up, a satisfied smile on his face as he turns back to his work.
"Did you do the test re-take?" she asks, pulling out the rest of the ingredients.
"Got a 95," he answers, not even hiding his self-satisfaction.
"Good job."
Dinner is quiet, at first, with both Henry and Emma devoting themselves wholeheartedly to eating Regina's cooking. This isn't the first time Emma has eaten at her house, of course, but it's the first time since the curse, since there has been something unnameable which has changed between them, and since they were both, for all intents and purposes, now single, alone and grieving but also saved. Regina wonders how it's possible to feel settled and discontent at the same time, but she is, she has been. And then there's the draw of Emma, the yearning for closeness she hasn't felt before, something she both fears and desires.
"Ma, we're putting on the spring play in two weeks," Henry says, breaking Regina from her thoughts, from a trail of rumination that probably wasn't going to go anywhere good.
"Oh, the one where I don't even get to see you on stage?" Emma teases.
"I'm the stage manager. If the play goes smoothly, it means I did my job."
They banter back and forth a bit, about Henry wearing a headset, about how he would be better served writing the play ('there's no way I can out-do Arthur Miller, Ma!'), and how he maybe still has an acting career in him, after all. But it gets quiet, after, and Regina realizes there are still things unsaid between them, that in the reunion between mother and son, Henry chose to prioritize Emma's safety and well-being, and had probably quashed down some of the hurt he felt once his memories returned.
Regina takes the plates and returns to the kitchen, running the water as she cleans up to give them a bit of privacy. But she can still hear them, a bit, and truthfully she doesn't think either of them mind that much: they would have gone to Henry's room or the living room or even taken a walk outside if they did need the privacy.
"It was me, but it also wasn't me," Emma is telling Henry. "I knew what I was doing the whole time, but everything was strange: it was like things that seemed like they should be easy choices weren't, or things that normally I would never do were easier to justify. Because in the end, I needed to save everyone."
"Or hold onto that power."
Regina doesn't look over, since she's loading the dishwasher, but she can just imagine Emma poking Henry, or gently punching his arm, irritated as always at his astuteness. "It never seemed like that, at the time. I always felt like I was helping."
Henry doesn't say anything directly. Not about Emma tricking Violet, or him being hurt as a result. Not about his memories being held hostage, or all the other hurt caused by the Dark One, but Emma seems to read it, because when Regina looks over, Emma is hugging him, Henry a little too tall and gangly now, pressed against her. "I'm sorry, kid. I really am. I know you're mad at me, and you can stay mad. But I remember how you never gave up on me, and if you ever need me one day, I will never give up on you."
"I'm not mad at you," Henry says, wrestling his way out of her hug. "I was just afraid. I'm glad you're back."
Regina heats some milk for cocoa, and opens the cupboard to try to find some cookies for dessert.
"I'm glad too," Emma says, and Regina looks over again, trying to figure out if Emma is lying. She had heard her in the woods, heard how empty she felt, but hopefully the dinner and Henry could help remind her of why she needed to be here. "I hope you can see your friend again, some day," Emma adds.
Henry nods, accepting the cup of cocoa Regina serves as she returns to the table. "We had talked about that a couple times, before the curse was lifted. If she ever went back, what we would do. Violet planned to work on magic, if she went back, to see if she could figure out a way to communicate. So I'm going to believe in her, even if it takes a long time."
And Regina's heart leaps a little, just at this thought. That Robin might have a way to communicate as well. She didn't love him, she understands this now. But she didn't want to doom him to be a stranger in a strange land forever, just because they didn't work out.
The next day, Emma returns to work. Regina does as well, and she attends the meetings she'd put off. Mr. Gold comes to the chamber of commerce meeting with emptiness in his eyes that is reflective of Emma's, a fact that frightens Regina, really. He sidles up to her at the coffee bar after the meeting adjourns and she almost wants to escape, before she remembers that she's here as mayor, that she needs to maintain a facade of decorum.
"It was you, wasn't it?" he says. "Belle indicated as much."
She shrugs. She's here as mayor, not to discuss the curse. "It's taken care of, and that's what's important."
But Mr. Gold seems to sink further into whatever despair he is in, probably the understanding that he will never, ever again hold onto the Dark One curse. It's strange, he ought to be gleeful that he is free, that the Darkness will no longer have a hold on him, but Regina has seen Emma after the curse, and though she assured her she is fine, physically, she isn't truly positive that the curse didn't take anything from her. She can't imagine what it did to Gold, who lived with it far longer than Emma. "You know he's in Hell, right?" he sneers, in a low voice.
She ignores him, but she knows he'll continue anyways. "You put it all in Killian Jones and killed him, didn't you?"
She's surprised he's pieced this much together, though she didn't do the actual killing. She sips her coffee, feigning disinterest.
"He's swine, a sinner, his soul will rot in Hell for eternity, he's sold it ages ago." At this, Mr. Gold smiles for the first time, and it makes Regina shudder.
"I have to get to my next appointment, I'll be off now," she says. But once she's back home she is almost panicking, wondering what kind of torment she sent Killian off to. She hated that man, really she did, but eternal damnation?
She opens the grimoires, pulls out all of her notes she had taken about the curse. She's got it all spread out on her desk, and it feels like she's back there, back in that terrible place where Emma still held the Darkness in her heart, but she has to know, she has to be sure. It takes hours - she hears Henry come in, get a snack, run off again to the theater - and then finally, finally, she sees it, a little endnote on one of the scrawling texts about the Dark One curse.
Elimination —> evanescence
It isn't ideal, perhaps, but ceasing to exist has got to be better than eternal torment in Hell. It's a comfort, maybe, that after all of the pain and confusion of the curse, there was just nothingness at the end. Or maybe she just wants to make herself feel better.
There's a knock on the door, but Regina isn't expecting anyone. She goes downstairs a little hesitantly, but she sees Emma through the keyhole. "Miss Swan," Regina says, opening the door and stepping back to let Emma in.
Emma quirks a brow at the formality, then smirks a bit at Regina's appearance: a rumpled dress that she had work to work all day and has not changed out of, her hair that was certainly mussed by now from running her fingers through it in frustration, and bare feet. "Henry called me," she says. "He said you hadn't stopped working all evening, and asked if I could drop off dinner."
Regina is a little embarrassed at this, and now she does see the takeout bag in Emma's hands. "Oh, well, come in."
Emma kicks her shoes off and walks into the kitchen, draping her leather coat on the back of a chair. She's wearing a tank top underneath, and while the sight isn't as aggressive as the sleeveless outfits she wore as the Dark One, Regina finds herself more conscious than usual of Emma, of her toned arms and shoulders. Regina takes a moment to compose herself, to straighten out her outfit and her hair as Emma unpacks the meal: sandwiches and soup, from Granny's of course.
Regina pours them each a glass of lemonade then comes to sit down.
"So what had you working like crazy?" Emma asks, "The budget is done."
Regina knows that Emma must know the dates of important town goings-on, that the sheriff's office needs to submit budget requests, that the sheriff needs to be involved in just about everything in Storybrooke, but it makes it frustrating when she can't think of a single piece of mayoral work she can offer up that Emma won't know is a lie. "Nothing," she says, taking a bite of the soup. It's some sort of chowder, and it's delicious. "It was a personal matter."
Emma's expression turns serious, and Regina realizes this had the opposite effect, that her curiosity is only more piqued. "Is everything alright?" she asks. "Is it Henry?"
Regina sighs, thinking of the mess of her desk, of the scrolls and grimoires and notes and notes and notes, and all for Killian Jones. "Henry is fine," she assures Emma. "I ran into Mr. Gold today, and he made me worried for Captain Hook's…" here she pauses, searching for the right word, "Soul."
Emma looks confused, but waits for Regina to go on.
"I was afraid my plan had a flaw, that we doomed him to Hell. Hades, the River Styx, all that. But further research shows it's alright, his spirit has just… evanesced.'
Emma takes a sip of her drink, contemplating this. "Regina, you spent all evening, worried about Hook?"
She shrugs, taking a bite of the sandwich. It's the chicken salad with grapes and walnuts, her favorite. "I didn't want him to suffer inordinately."
Emma smiles, for perhaps the first time in weeks. "Thank you," she says, digging into her own food properly now.
They talk about this and that for the rest of dinner, and then make plans to go see Henry's play together the next week. It feels correct: they are both his parents, after all.
Emma is a few minutes late to meet Regina in front of the school to see the play. She looks nervous, or off-balance, or some kind of emotion that doesn't look right on Emma. "Sorry," she says as she approaches. "I was just meeting with the agent about the house."
The little house on the shore. Regina had almost forgotten about it. "What did they say?"
Emma shrugs. "They said to keep it as a rental property, the rent will cover the taxes. Hardly anyone comes into or out of Storybrooke, it's hardly worth making a sale. That maybe one day I'll want it for myself or for Henry."
"They transferred the deed, then?"
She nods. "Hook had set all that up, once you told him your plan."
Regina can understand the frustration. That house was where Emma had wove all the Dreamcatchers. Where she had hid the blade and the flame. Where she had spent her last days with Killian, but also where she had spun her web of secrets and deceit as the Dark One. It probably wasn't somewhere she wanted to frequent, and if she did, she'd probably get caught up as she did last time, staring out at the waves. "I think I know someone," she says. "Who can get the rental set up."
Emma nods, accepting help more readily than perhaps Regina has ever seen her do so. "Ok. Thanks."
When they go inside, they see the Charmings, too close to the front for the size of camera they're holding, especially with a baby likely to interrupt the proceedings, but Emma just shakes her head and sits a row behind them. "You know Henry's not even gonna be on the stage, right?" she tells her mother, as Regina settles into the seat beside her and checks the program.
"This is the culmination of all of his work!" Snow says, as if that justifies her taking photos of all the set pieces and an empty stage.
The play is good, all things considered. At one point Regina wonders if adjustments had been made mid-production when they lost the children from Camelot, but if so, they had recovered admirably. Emma stands to clap, and when the crew comes out to take a bow, Regina joins her.
They go out for ice cream after, even though it's too early for it by Regina's judgment, but in Henry's words, "it's officially spring and spring means ice cream!"
The Charmings come but depart soon after once the baby gets fussy, but not before giving Henry a new book of plays that Regina is certain she'll find him up past midnight reading.
"I should go back, too," Emma says, but she doesn't offer a reason. It's Friday night, there's no work tomorrow, and Regina knows she's just going to be thinking about the empty house on the shore, or maybe even walk there in the dark to look at the waves.
"Want to come over for a bit? I have a bottle of red wine I haven't opened because I don't want to drink it alone." This invitation is almost too bold, she almost wants to take it back. Almost.
Emma looks at Regina skeptically, as if trying to find her hidden agenda, and finally relents. "Sure, I've got no plans."
She follows them home, and for once, Henry isn't excited to spend time with them as usual. One of his friends from the play calls, and he wants to talk to them, and he's already thumbing through his new book from the Charmings, so he retreats to his room almost instantly.
Regina pours two glasses of wine and they sit in the living room, and she wonders what it is, what that last push is to fix the discomfort she still feels between them. She thinks back to the day in that house on the shore, when their conversation had ended early because Regina hadn't been brave enough to be honest. She sips her wine and turns on the fireplace, chasing out the early April chill.
"What is it?" Emma says, after half a glass of wine.
"What is what?" Regina can't stop puttering, adjusting the remotes, her clothes, fixing this and that to keep from looking at Emma properly.
"You're obviously uncomfortable. Are you delaying saying something?" She takes another generous sip of wine, and Regina wonders if she's anticipating rejection, or some bad news.
She takes a deep breath. She had saved the town. She had rid Emma of the curse. She had figured things out. She needed to be brave here. She could see the truth for other people, but not herself, it seems. She lived a lie with Robin for years because what? She wanted it enough? And now she was intentionally blinding herself with Emma because of fear? Because liking Emma wasn't on her prescribed list of how her perfect life was supposed to go? Because maybe Emma won't feel the same way, and after spending weeks, so many sleepless nights, after sacrificing actual people to save Emma, that rejection would just be too much to bear?
"You said you would have died to end the curse, but I wouldn't have let you," Regina says. The words are measured, calm, but she feels tremulous, like she's falling apart at the seams.
"What are you saying?"
"I think you're too quick to throw your life away. There's a lot of people who care about you."
Emma turns away, to stare at the flames this time. "A lot of people, hm?"
"I care about you." She sighs. She can do this. "I like you, Emma."
Emma's ensuing stillness is as extreme as if Regina commanded her with the dagger. They're both held in the moment, until Emma breaks it by turning back to Regina. She meets her eyes, searching for something there, deceit, perhaps, or a secret motive? "I want to believe you," she says. Her eyes settle somewhere around Regina's cheek. "I saw that curse and I thought - not Regina, not after all she's done - but I also thought, maybe if I save her now, she can save me from this later." She finishes the glass of wine and pours another. "But it got so much worse before it got better."
Regina hasn't seen Emma cry, not in a long time, but now there are tears, and she moves from the chair to the couch to sit beside her. "I like you too, Regina, I've known that for a long time. But what if it's too late?"
Emma runs her fingers back through her hair, and Regina can see how hopeless she feels, her eyes red and her expression bleak. But some small part of Regina is hopeful, because she had been so, so prepared for rejection, that hearing Emma say that she likes her too, and for a long time has taken such a weight off of her chest that she can breathe again. "It's not too late," Regina says, "Why would it be?"
"Because…" Emma is more composed now, her tears stopped, but she seems to be struggling to articulate exactly why. Her wine-stained lips are half open and Regina has not had enough wine to blame her actions on that, she simply kisses Emma because she wants to.
The kiss is short, she just captures Emma's bottom lip and pulls away again, but Emma looks a perfect combination of surprised and delighted by it, and it makes Regina hungry for more. She's not one to initiate much, really, but with Emma she thinks she could get used to it, for an expression like that.
"Regina…"
"Yes?"
"What was that?" Emma meets her eyes again, coming to terms with what exactly happened, and a smile sneaks across her face.
"I wanted to, so I did," Regina says simply. "Should I not have?"
"No I-" Emma stops, blushing as she realizes she protested too quickly. "It was nice."
Regina leans forward again, daring Emma to close the distance, and she does, and this time the kiss lasts longer. She feels Emma's hand on her neck, her middle finger tracing down along her jaw bone, and her other hand reaches up into her hair. And Regina feels Emma: the shoulders she's always admiring, the hair that looks just a little too tuggable.
"What the hell?"Emma asks, when Regina pulls her hair. It's like having the dagger but better, because she gets a direct result.
Regina smiles. "Oh, dear. Don't tell me you don't enjoy this? I can stop."
And true to her prediction, Emma drops her gaze. "I don't mind, you just surprised me," she says. Regina can feel herself getting aroused, the combination of Emma responding to her and Emma, stubborn Emma pliant under her hands.
And this could all be hers, she just had to ask. Regina sits back, sipping her wine, trying to keep herself from plowing forward too quickly. She'd confessed her feelings and been rewarded, that had been her goal, really. "I'm sorry, I may have gotten ahead of myself," she says, a little embarrassed now that she's removed herself a bit. She's hot, her whole body is hot, and Emma is right there. Emma's tongue had been in her mouth, locks of her hair had been in Regina's hand.
But the tables have turned now, and it's Emma who is breezy, unbothered. She stands, and Regina is frustrated with herself, with whatever she's done to make this night end. "Thank you," Emma says, "Really. I was feeling pretty bad tonight, and now… I feel a lot better. Maybe we could get dinner tomorrow?"
Regina nods. "Yes, of course."
Emma smiles. "I know a place in town."
"Oh, is it run by an old woman?"
Emma leans down, one knee on the couch, and kisses Regina again. "Shush. Not my fault there's only one restaurant in this whole damn town." Regina imagines them on a date, and it's not hard to imagine, really. They've gone on family dinners with Henry, they've even sat at Granny's just the two of them to discuss family matters or problems in town. Now, they could do the same, but not worry about any issues for the time being just think about each other, about the possibilities in the future, and it sounds nice, like a short break between the inevitable crises that always seem to hit Storybrooke.
She still can't believe she kissed Emma, that she confessed her feelings to Emma, that she got so far to teasing Emma that now she might have some new fantasy to dwell on later. But there's a distinct change in the way Emma is moving now, like the hollowness has been filled in, at least just a bit, so she thinks it was worth the risk, for both of their sakes.
Emma puts her jacket back on and walks to the door, slipping her boots on. She smiles a little, turning back to Regina. "Oh, tomorrow should I put my hair in a bun, or…?"
"Goodnight, Emma."