Fic
Title - Snow Blind
Fandom - Once Upon a Time
Pairing - Emma/Regina
Rating - PG13
AN - In the show this follows The Stable Boy (which caused me many, many sad feelings - my poor baby Regina) and in my version of the show this follows my drabbles, Mirror Mirror, This Provincial Life, Viviane or Nimue, Dreams and Wishes, All the Better to…., Magic Keys and Curiouser and Curiouser
Snow Blind
It takes Emma a while to realise where she is. Not exactly her finest moment and certainly not a ringing endorsement for someone who is meant to be the sheriff of this town. In her defence she is currently quite impaired. The fact that the impairment is self-inflicted isn’t relevant, not when the symptoms are this debilitating.
Her head isn’t pounding or throbbing but there is definitely something wrong with it. It feels as though it’s vibrating at the wrong frequency, like it’s out of sync in some way and she’s worried that this situation may not be compatible with life. The vibration has also torpedoed several of her senses. Sounds are somehow both too close and too far away. They echo and they lose cohesion but they are still incredibly, intolerably loud. Sight is an even bigger problem - the brief second that she was able to combat gravity and lift her eyelids resulted in a flash so bright that she fears she will be permanently blinded.
In contrast her sense of touch seems to be relatively unscathed. It might even be perfect but it’s being hampered by the fact that movement is fucking difficult at the moment. Still, the information that her skin is picking up is sufficient for her to be sure that she isn’t in her own bed. She can’t afford sheets as silky as these.
The sheets really should have been a bigger clue but her addled brain took a while to process the significance of a foreign bed and fancy sheets. When she does realise that the combination can only mean one thing she is mortified.
She forces herself to open her eyes again and lifts the covers in order to examine what state she is in. Emma sighs with relief when she realises she is still fully clothed.
Naturally this is the exact moment that Regina chooses to return to the room. Even with Emma’s current hearing impediment there is no denying the sexiness of Regina’s voice as she says, “Well that’s certainly a flattering reaction to the discovery that you didn’t sleep with me.”
“It’s not that,” Emma croaks. She would have said more but her tongue appears to have cemented itself to the roof of her mouth.
“Really? What is it then?”
“I’m just surprised,” she manages. “I don’t recall much of last night but the bits I do recall suggest that I tried very hard to sleep with you.”
“And you think you’re so irresistible that when you show up barely able to stand and vomit all over my path, you’ll be cleaning that up once you can walk by the way, that I would have no choice but to succumb to your charms?”
“Well when you put it that way I really can’t believe you didn’t have your way with me.”
“Try to keep that sense of humour when you are dealing with the damage you did to my path Sheriff Swan.” Emma feels fingers caress her forehead and than a glass is pressed into her hand. “I’m starting to worry that this showing up drunk act is becoming a bit of a habit for you.”
“I promise it won’t happen again.” She takes a sip and feels a little more alive as water flows through the desert that is her mouth. The sense of improvement is short lived though as the moment the fluid hits her stomach it does its best to rush back up to her mouth and it brings some very unpleasant friends along for the ride. “Fuck me.”
“Not in your current condition Miss Swan. Right now you are not a whole lot more appealing than you were last night. I did expect a little more thanks for the water though.”
“I’m sorry. I am grateful. I’ll be even more grateful if I manage to keep it down.”
“If you vomit in my bed you will be cleaning that up as well.”
“Fair enough.” She tries to take another sip but it doesn’t go a whole lot better than her first attempt. “Jesus. What the hell did I drink last night?”
“I have no idea. You did that damage all on your own.”
“Why did you even let me in?”
“Because I have a reputation to uphold, it would not look good for me to have people passed out on my doorstep.”
“I guess that makes sense but if I was such a mess how did I end up here?”
“In my bed you mean?”
“Well yes,” Emma responds. “This seems like the last place I should be.”
“Leaving you anywhere else would have risked Henry finding you. This is the one room in the house that he has no interest in.” If Emma didn’t know better she would think that Regina sounded sad about that fact.
“Oh. Well I guess it pays to be practical.”
Regina sits down on the other side of the bed, causing another wave of nausea for Emma, and asks, “Did you hope it was something other than practicalities?”
“When you say it out loud it seems stupid. After all things haven’t been so great between us lately.”
“Are you referring to the moment when you showed up with a warrant and attempted to arrest me for a crime I didn’t commit?”
Emma scrunches her eyes even more tightly closed, a move that is not without its share of pain, “I was so convinced that you were guilty.”
“You think I’m a killer?”
“It’s not the first time I’ve thought that about you,” Emma admits.
“Really?” Regina sounds more amused than annoyed. “Do tell?”
“The other time was even crazier. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It sounds like you don’t think very highly of me.”
“Regina I honestly don’t know what I think of you.”
“It’s ok. Maybe it’s better for both of us if you think badly of me.”
“Why do you do that?” Emma asks.
“Do what?”
“Insist that I’d be better off without you.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be? You’re the one who thinks I’m capable of murder.”
“I really do think that,” Emma says as she carefully rolls onto her side, “and I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t understand how you can be this heartless creature who poisons the town and seems totally capable of murder and also be the person that you are when we’re alone. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of the time when it’s just the two of us you are still the mayor but the moments that you are really Regina are different. Those moments are special, they are worth waiting for, but they make me feel like you can be two completely different people.”
“You make it sound like I’m schizophrenic.”
“I used to think that but now I’m starting to think that I’m the crazy one. How else can I explain my absolute belief that you could be a cold blooded killer and the fact that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t stop me dreaming of a future where we work things out and get to be together?”
“You think about that? About a future with me?” Regina sounds wistful.
“I try not to but that Regina I sometimes see, my Regina, she’s worth dreaming about.”
“You shouldn’t think about me in that way,” Regina suddenly sounds cold and detached.
“Yeah well I also think of you as a serial killer so that should ease your mind.”
“That is a little bit comforting.”
“Only you could think that,” she tries to take a peek at Regina but her eyes simply will not comply, “in fact I’m starting to think that you want me to think you’re evil.”
“Sheriff I can’t control what you think.”
“Yet you had that shovel here,” Emma accuses.
“What shovel?” Regina’s faux innocence is grating to Emma.
“The broken shovel that was in your garage.”
“The broken shovel that you could only know about if you’d performed an illegal search on my property?”
Emma can’t deny that Regina is right and she really has no defence for what she has done. “What the hell are you doing to me? I’m like a one woman vigilante team and I’m going after the one person I don’t want to be guilty of the things I believe she’s guilty of.”
“You actually are starting to sound a little bit insane.”
“I am totally crazy. You are making me crazy,” this is not a new thought for Emma but the one that follows it is, “and you are doing it on purpose.”
“Why would I do that?” Emma doesn’t try to open her eyes, there’s no point, but she can picture the smug look on Regina face perfectly.
“You’re too smart to have kept that shovel. You wanted me to find it. You planted that evidence.”
“Evidence of what dear?” Regina asks in the tone that Emma associates with the mayor and she hates Regina for using it in more intimate company.
“I really don’t know. I don’t even know if you know what I think you know.”
“I thought we’d established that there is very little that I don’t know.” It’s true; in general Regina has her finger on the pulse of this town. She has always been one step ahead of Emma and whatever Regina may be she is not stupid. Emma is certain that Regina has a vendetta against Mary Margaret but why try to frame her for a crime that didn’t happen? The only way Regina’s behaviour makes any sense is if she truly believed that Kathryn was dead. That logic almost seems to hold but it relies on Regina making a mistake about something as crucial as whether or not the alleged victim was alive or dead. If Mayor Mills wanted someone dead they’d be dead and if she was really going to frame someone for murder the body would be found rotting in the suspect’s house. Which takes Emma’s circular thinking right back to the point where Regina must have believed Kathryn was dead but if she believed that she can’t have been involved. Emma can not fathom how the box and the heart fit into any of this and it’s becoming clear that her head is not in any condition to be contemplating these matters.
“In general you do,” and this may mean that Regina already knows that Kathryn is back but if she doesn’t Emma is not going to be the one to tell her. At least not like this.
“Glad to hear you say it.”
“Which is why I think you led me to that shovel. You’ve done this before. You seem to try very hard to make me think the worst of you.”
“Sometimes I feel like it’s the best way to convince you that we are not a good idea.”
“It doesn’t work you know? It doesn’t seem to change the way I feel about you. All it’s doing is driving me crazier and crazier. I’m going to end up locked in an insane asylum. The worst bit about that is that you probably wouldn’t even visit me there.”
“No probably not.”
“Fuck you bitch.”
“We’ve established that that will not be happening while you are in your present condition.”
“I admit I’m not at my finest.”
“No you are not,” Regina chuckles and moves a little closer to Emma. “Do you want to talk about what led to your rather impressive alcohol binge last night?”
“I wouldn’t have wanted my binge to be unimpressive.” She’s doesn’t know how much she should tell Regina.
“Well then you should be very proud of yourself.”
“What did I tell you last night?”
“This may come as a surprise to you but you weren’t making a whole lot of sense. It was mostly repetitive rambling mixed with a fair bit of grabbing at my body.”
“I’m so sorry,” she groans. She couldn’t be more humiliated if she found out that she’d shown up sprouting that the only possible explanation to the Kathryn situation was that the woman had somehow been reanimated by magic.
“Don’t be.”
“I still feel like I need to make it up to you.”
“You shouldn’t bother.” As responses go it’s not so bad and coming from Regina it could have been a lot worse. At least she didn’t take the opportunity to tell Emma that they shouldn’t be spending time together.
Emma risks the agony of movement and reaches over to touch Regina’s leg. “I wish things would go better for us.”
“So do I.”
“Do you? Do you really?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I think you’d be a lot happier if I just fell off the planet.”
“It would be easier,” Regina confesses.
“Thanks,” Emma replies and for the first time this morning she is glad that she is dehydrated because crying is a physical impossibility at the moment.
“It would be easier and it’s certainly better than the alternative. I don’t like the idea of you hating me.”
“You say that like it’s inevitable.”
Regina places a hand over the one that remains on her leg, “Isn’t it? Doesn’t part of you hate me already?”
“Only because you make it that way.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Regina says softly. “Being with you makes me feel guilty.”
“See this is the sort of shit that makes me hate you. You don’t have to be so elitist. Why is it so hard to admit that you feel something for me?”
“I’m not being elitist. I do feel something for you. My feelings for you are what make me feel guilty. I’d feel guilty about having feelings for anyone.”
“Well that sounds completely nuts. You could share a room at the asylum with me.”
“That might solve your problem but not mine. I couldn’t cope with the temptation of having you there and the guilt would be out of control.”
“So this is about feeling that you are being unfaithful.”
“Yes it is,” Regina’s reply is curt.
“Is this about Graham?”
“Lord no. I didn’t feel anything at all for Graham.” Regina’s words are harsh and she delivers them without a trace of apology.
“Then who? Are you committed to someone that I don’t know about? Cause I’ll totally cut a bitch if I have to.”
“That’s very noble of you,” Regina laughs and squeezes Emma’s fingers, “there’s no one for you to cut. He’s dead. He died a long time ago.”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” Emma says and she really doesn’t. It’s not at all what she had been expecting.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Emma is genuinely puzzled.
“For not saying anything clichéd.”
“He was very special to you huh?”
“He was everything. He made me happy.”
“And you don’t think anyone else could ever do that?”
“No. Nothing at all has since he died.”
“Not even Henry?”
“At the risk of saying something that you will use against me, no he hasn’t. I love him so much and I try so hard but I can’t make him love me. Maybe if things had gone differently way back then I would have been able to give him more. Maybe I could have been the mother he wants.”
“What about me?” Emma figures she has already crossed a large line in the sand so she might as well keep on going. “Do I make you happy?”
“There are moments when you almost do. There are even moments when you make me want to be happy and it has been a very long time since I’ve felt anything like that. The problem is that in the end it only makes me feel worse.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. It’s not a betrayal.”
“It feels like one. My whole life has been about him and I don’t know how to change that.”
“I’d tell he wouldn’t want this but I have no idea if that’s even true. I guess the best I can do is to tell you that I’m here if you change your mind.”
“I hope you know how terrifying that is for me to hear.”
“I hope you know how insulting that is for me to hear,” she hopes that Regina detects her levity.
“That’s my girl,” Regina says and rewards Emma with a kiss to the forehead. “Now I really have to go to work.”
“I’m just going to lie here and try not to die.”
“Well I hope you succeed because if you turn up dead everyone is going to blame me.”
“You are hilarious.”
“What I am is late for work,” and with that Regina is gone leaving Emma alone. Emma is still not convinced that she is going to survive this hangover and she has no idea what to do about the tangle of complications that is this thing she has with Regina. At least if she died she wouldn’t have to work any of it. Death is starting to seem like a reasonable option and there are certainly worse places to die than Regina Mills' bed.
Fandom - Once Upon a Time
Pairing - Emma/Regina
Rating - PG13
AN - In the show this follows The Stable Boy (which caused me many, many sad feelings - my poor baby Regina) and in my version of the show this follows my drabbles, Mirror Mirror, This Provincial Life, Viviane or Nimue, Dreams and Wishes, All the Better to…., Magic Keys and Curiouser and Curiouser
Snow Blind
It takes Emma a while to realise where she is. Not exactly her finest moment and certainly not a ringing endorsement for someone who is meant to be the sheriff of this town. In her defence she is currently quite impaired. The fact that the impairment is self-inflicted isn’t relevant, not when the symptoms are this debilitating.
Her head isn’t pounding or throbbing but there is definitely something wrong with it. It feels as though it’s vibrating at the wrong frequency, like it’s out of sync in some way and she’s worried that this situation may not be compatible with life. The vibration has also torpedoed several of her senses. Sounds are somehow both too close and too far away. They echo and they lose cohesion but they are still incredibly, intolerably loud. Sight is an even bigger problem - the brief second that she was able to combat gravity and lift her eyelids resulted in a flash so bright that she fears she will be permanently blinded.
In contrast her sense of touch seems to be relatively unscathed. It might even be perfect but it’s being hampered by the fact that movement is fucking difficult at the moment. Still, the information that her skin is picking up is sufficient for her to be sure that she isn’t in her own bed. She can’t afford sheets as silky as these.
The sheets really should have been a bigger clue but her addled brain took a while to process the significance of a foreign bed and fancy sheets. When she does realise that the combination can only mean one thing she is mortified.
She forces herself to open her eyes again and lifts the covers in order to examine what state she is in. Emma sighs with relief when she realises she is still fully clothed.
Naturally this is the exact moment that Regina chooses to return to the room. Even with Emma’s current hearing impediment there is no denying the sexiness of Regina’s voice as she says, “Well that’s certainly a flattering reaction to the discovery that you didn’t sleep with me.”
“It’s not that,” Emma croaks. She would have said more but her tongue appears to have cemented itself to the roof of her mouth.
“Really? What is it then?”
“I’m just surprised,” she manages. “I don’t recall much of last night but the bits I do recall suggest that I tried very hard to sleep with you.”
“And you think you’re so irresistible that when you show up barely able to stand and vomit all over my path, you’ll be cleaning that up once you can walk by the way, that I would have no choice but to succumb to your charms?”
“Well when you put it that way I really can’t believe you didn’t have your way with me.”
“Try to keep that sense of humour when you are dealing with the damage you did to my path Sheriff Swan.” Emma feels fingers caress her forehead and than a glass is pressed into her hand. “I’m starting to worry that this showing up drunk act is becoming a bit of a habit for you.”
“I promise it won’t happen again.” She takes a sip and feels a little more alive as water flows through the desert that is her mouth. The sense of improvement is short lived though as the moment the fluid hits her stomach it does its best to rush back up to her mouth and it brings some very unpleasant friends along for the ride. “Fuck me.”
“Not in your current condition Miss Swan. Right now you are not a whole lot more appealing than you were last night. I did expect a little more thanks for the water though.”
“I’m sorry. I am grateful. I’ll be even more grateful if I manage to keep it down.”
“If you vomit in my bed you will be cleaning that up as well.”
“Fair enough.” She tries to take another sip but it doesn’t go a whole lot better than her first attempt. “Jesus. What the hell did I drink last night?”
“I have no idea. You did that damage all on your own.”
“Why did you even let me in?”
“Because I have a reputation to uphold, it would not look good for me to have people passed out on my doorstep.”
“I guess that makes sense but if I was such a mess how did I end up here?”
“In my bed you mean?”
“Well yes,” Emma responds. “This seems like the last place I should be.”
“Leaving you anywhere else would have risked Henry finding you. This is the one room in the house that he has no interest in.” If Emma didn’t know better she would think that Regina sounded sad about that fact.
“Oh. Well I guess it pays to be practical.”
Regina sits down on the other side of the bed, causing another wave of nausea for Emma, and asks, “Did you hope it was something other than practicalities?”
“When you say it out loud it seems stupid. After all things haven’t been so great between us lately.”
“Are you referring to the moment when you showed up with a warrant and attempted to arrest me for a crime I didn’t commit?”
Emma scrunches her eyes even more tightly closed, a move that is not without its share of pain, “I was so convinced that you were guilty.”
“You think I’m a killer?”
“It’s not the first time I’ve thought that about you,” Emma admits.
“Really?” Regina sounds more amused than annoyed. “Do tell?”
“The other time was even crazier. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It sounds like you don’t think very highly of me.”
“Regina I honestly don’t know what I think of you.”
“It’s ok. Maybe it’s better for both of us if you think badly of me.”
“Why do you do that?” Emma asks.
“Do what?”
“Insist that I’d be better off without you.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be? You’re the one who thinks I’m capable of murder.”
“I really do think that,” Emma says as she carefully rolls onto her side, “and I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t understand how you can be this heartless creature who poisons the town and seems totally capable of murder and also be the person that you are when we’re alone. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of the time when it’s just the two of us you are still the mayor but the moments that you are really Regina are different. Those moments are special, they are worth waiting for, but they make me feel like you can be two completely different people.”
“You make it sound like I’m schizophrenic.”
“I used to think that but now I’m starting to think that I’m the crazy one. How else can I explain my absolute belief that you could be a cold blooded killer and the fact that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t stop me dreaming of a future where we work things out and get to be together?”
“You think about that? About a future with me?” Regina sounds wistful.
“I try not to but that Regina I sometimes see, my Regina, she’s worth dreaming about.”
“You shouldn’t think about me in that way,” Regina suddenly sounds cold and detached.
“Yeah well I also think of you as a serial killer so that should ease your mind.”
“That is a little bit comforting.”
“Only you could think that,” she tries to take a peek at Regina but her eyes simply will not comply, “in fact I’m starting to think that you want me to think you’re evil.”
“Sheriff I can’t control what you think.”
“Yet you had that shovel here,” Emma accuses.
“What shovel?” Regina’s faux innocence is grating to Emma.
“The broken shovel that was in your garage.”
“The broken shovel that you could only know about if you’d performed an illegal search on my property?”
Emma can’t deny that Regina is right and she really has no defence for what she has done. “What the hell are you doing to me? I’m like a one woman vigilante team and I’m going after the one person I don’t want to be guilty of the things I believe she’s guilty of.”
“You actually are starting to sound a little bit insane.”
“I am totally crazy. You are making me crazy,” this is not a new thought for Emma but the one that follows it is, “and you are doing it on purpose.”
“Why would I do that?” Emma doesn’t try to open her eyes, there’s no point, but she can picture the smug look on Regina face perfectly.
“You’re too smart to have kept that shovel. You wanted me to find it. You planted that evidence.”
“Evidence of what dear?” Regina asks in the tone that Emma associates with the mayor and she hates Regina for using it in more intimate company.
“I really don’t know. I don’t even know if you know what I think you know.”
“I thought we’d established that there is very little that I don’t know.” It’s true; in general Regina has her finger on the pulse of this town. She has always been one step ahead of Emma and whatever Regina may be she is not stupid. Emma is certain that Regina has a vendetta against Mary Margaret but why try to frame her for a crime that didn’t happen? The only way Regina’s behaviour makes any sense is if she truly believed that Kathryn was dead. That logic almost seems to hold but it relies on Regina making a mistake about something as crucial as whether or not the alleged victim was alive or dead. If Mayor Mills wanted someone dead they’d be dead and if she was really going to frame someone for murder the body would be found rotting in the suspect’s house. Which takes Emma’s circular thinking right back to the point where Regina must have believed Kathryn was dead but if she believed that she can’t have been involved. Emma can not fathom how the box and the heart fit into any of this and it’s becoming clear that her head is not in any condition to be contemplating these matters.
“In general you do,” and this may mean that Regina already knows that Kathryn is back but if she doesn’t Emma is not going to be the one to tell her. At least not like this.
“Glad to hear you say it.”
“Which is why I think you led me to that shovel. You’ve done this before. You seem to try very hard to make me think the worst of you.”
“Sometimes I feel like it’s the best way to convince you that we are not a good idea.”
“It doesn’t work you know? It doesn’t seem to change the way I feel about you. All it’s doing is driving me crazier and crazier. I’m going to end up locked in an insane asylum. The worst bit about that is that you probably wouldn’t even visit me there.”
“No probably not.”
“Fuck you bitch.”
“We’ve established that that will not be happening while you are in your present condition.”
“I admit I’m not at my finest.”
“No you are not,” Regina chuckles and moves a little closer to Emma. “Do you want to talk about what led to your rather impressive alcohol binge last night?”
“I wouldn’t have wanted my binge to be unimpressive.” She’s doesn’t know how much she should tell Regina.
“Well then you should be very proud of yourself.”
“What did I tell you last night?”
“This may come as a surprise to you but you weren’t making a whole lot of sense. It was mostly repetitive rambling mixed with a fair bit of grabbing at my body.”
“I’m so sorry,” she groans. She couldn’t be more humiliated if she found out that she’d shown up sprouting that the only possible explanation to the Kathryn situation was that the woman had somehow been reanimated by magic.
“Don’t be.”
“I still feel like I need to make it up to you.”
“You shouldn’t bother.” As responses go it’s not so bad and coming from Regina it could have been a lot worse. At least she didn’t take the opportunity to tell Emma that they shouldn’t be spending time together.
Emma risks the agony of movement and reaches over to touch Regina’s leg. “I wish things would go better for us.”
“So do I.”
“Do you? Do you really?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I think you’d be a lot happier if I just fell off the planet.”
“It would be easier,” Regina confesses.
“Thanks,” Emma replies and for the first time this morning she is glad that she is dehydrated because crying is a physical impossibility at the moment.
“It would be easier and it’s certainly better than the alternative. I don’t like the idea of you hating me.”
“You say that like it’s inevitable.”
Regina places a hand over the one that remains on her leg, “Isn’t it? Doesn’t part of you hate me already?”
“Only because you make it that way.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Regina says softly. “Being with you makes me feel guilty.”
“See this is the sort of shit that makes me hate you. You don’t have to be so elitist. Why is it so hard to admit that you feel something for me?”
“I’m not being elitist. I do feel something for you. My feelings for you are what make me feel guilty. I’d feel guilty about having feelings for anyone.”
“Well that sounds completely nuts. You could share a room at the asylum with me.”
“That might solve your problem but not mine. I couldn’t cope with the temptation of having you there and the guilt would be out of control.”
“So this is about feeling that you are being unfaithful.”
“Yes it is,” Regina’s reply is curt.
“Is this about Graham?”
“Lord no. I didn’t feel anything at all for Graham.” Regina’s words are harsh and she delivers them without a trace of apology.
“Then who? Are you committed to someone that I don’t know about? Cause I’ll totally cut a bitch if I have to.”
“That’s very noble of you,” Regina laughs and squeezes Emma’s fingers, “there’s no one for you to cut. He’s dead. He died a long time ago.”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” Emma says and she really doesn’t. It’s not at all what she had been expecting.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Emma is genuinely puzzled.
“For not saying anything clichéd.”
“He was very special to you huh?”
“He was everything. He made me happy.”
“And you don’t think anyone else could ever do that?”
“No. Nothing at all has since he died.”
“Not even Henry?”
“At the risk of saying something that you will use against me, no he hasn’t. I love him so much and I try so hard but I can’t make him love me. Maybe if things had gone differently way back then I would have been able to give him more. Maybe I could have been the mother he wants.”
“What about me?” Emma figures she has already crossed a large line in the sand so she might as well keep on going. “Do I make you happy?”
“There are moments when you almost do. There are even moments when you make me want to be happy and it has been a very long time since I’ve felt anything like that. The problem is that in the end it only makes me feel worse.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. It’s not a betrayal.”
“It feels like one. My whole life has been about him and I don’t know how to change that.”
“I’d tell he wouldn’t want this but I have no idea if that’s even true. I guess the best I can do is to tell you that I’m here if you change your mind.”
“I hope you know how terrifying that is for me to hear.”
“I hope you know how insulting that is for me to hear,” she hopes that Regina detects her levity.
“That’s my girl,” Regina says and rewards Emma with a kiss to the forehead. “Now I really have to go to work.”
“I’m just going to lie here and try not to die.”
“Well I hope you succeed because if you turn up dead everyone is going to blame me.”
“You are hilarious.”
“What I am is late for work,” and with that Regina is gone leaving Emma alone. Emma is still not convinced that she is going to survive this hangover and she has no idea what to do about the tangle of complications that is this thing she has with Regina. At least if she died she wouldn’t have to work any of it. Death is starting to seem like a reasonable option and there are certainly worse places to die than Regina Mills' bed.