Chapter Text
March 2015
The sharp clicks of her heels hitting the pavement quicken as she gets closer to her Mercedes-Benz, wanting nothing more than to get back home and put this all in the past. The sprinkled remains of her almost happy ending float away as the March wind picks up, scattering the image of her and Robin Hood. She swings open the car door and glances behind her. The confetti of memories travels through the air and into the unknown.
Regina smiles sadly before she climbs into her car. A slow, heavy exhale escapes her lips, and she grips the steering wheel, the leather of her gloves creaking with the pressure. After a few moments, she puts the Benz into drive and leaves the bright orange town line and her hopes of a happy ending behind.
☾ SQ ☽
Regina swirls her finger along the round edge of the mug in front of her with a slight pout to her lips. Her eyes are trained down on the tea bag, watching the brown streaks seep into the water, growing darker and darker the longer it sits on the countertop.
Granny’s diner is quiet that night, and she is grateful for the near silence it holds. It also means no one is there to take her seat at the counter, if she can avoid speaking to anyone the rest of the night, she will.
But a part of her aches at the fact that she knows nobody will approach her to begin with. She may have been forgiven by Emma and her family, but not all of the townsfolk care enough to step in and interrupt her sulking.
That is probably the hardest part about her newfound “heroism”: accepting that no matter how much good she does, no matter how many times she does the right thing, she will never be happy and she will always be alone.
She knows that her relationship with Robin Hood wasn’t absolute or perfect, but it was something. Being told that he was her soulmate ignited that tiny flicker of hope deep inside of her dark heart. It was a rush of assurance and security that her happy ending at least existed.
It was there, written in fine print, on the paper from the storybook. It was there many years ago, sparkling in the glow of pixie dust. Being told she had a soulmate made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she still had a chance to be happy. It gave her hope that she still had a chance to have the love she didn’t deserve.
She thinks back to Neverland when the fairies refused to let Tinkerbell return to being a fairy. Regina tried to defend the very woman who revealed that Robin was her soulmate. It was then that Blue informed Regina that the pixie dust Tinkerbell used to help her was stolen. Blue explained that it was tainted by Tink‘s insubordinate behavior. This meant that the dust was wrong; Robin isn’t her soulmate.
At first, Regina didn’t believe it. She scoffed and accused Blue of trying to squander her hope to finally be happy. She tried to tell herself that what the fairy said couldn’t possibly be true, but there was still an ounce of discomfort forming in the pit of her stomach.
Over the following weeks after her discovery, Regina began to notice how detached and dull her relationship truly was. She became aware of things she had subconsciously ignored before. The way she didn’t feel warm when he kissed her. And when he walked into a room, he had absolutely no effect on her; there was no rush, no longing in the pit of her stomach, no desire spreading across her chest, or even the slightest upward twitch of her lips. She noticed the distant look in his eyes when they were together or when she spoke. She didn’t feel seen or heard. It felt like a spectacle of a relationship, and as the days passed, the discomfort in her stomach grew.
Ultimately, Regina wasn’t surprised or hurt when Robin proposed the idea of him leaving Storybrooke. He said he was a man of honor and could no longer continue seeing Regina if he wasn’t in love with her. He didn’t want to hurt her and admitted he truly wanted her to find her happiness, but he knew it wasn’t with him. He had a pained look on his face when he told her how he felt. Regina was glad to put the guilt-stricken man at ease by revealing what Blue said weeks before.
Regina wasn’t heartbroken that he wanted to leave town; it made complete sense that he would want to experience this world. Although a thief, he was also a traveler, and it was just a matter of time before the longing of wanderlust took over him.
So Regina helped him. She gave him cash along with directions and keys to the late Baelfire’s apartment. She held back her tears when he started to step over the town line. But she couldn’t keep the tears at bay when he turned back and captured her lips in a bittersweet embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.
“I know.”
She did the right thing, she was selfless and put Robin first, yet here she is… alone in Granny’s Diner with no one but herself to lean on. It isn’t as if she expected anyone to care. She just can’t lie to herself and say it doesn’t hurt that everyone knows what happened today, yet not a soul reached out.
She sighs softly as she rests her head lazily in her palm, her elbow propped up on the bar top. She absentmindedly picks at a purple string hanging from the crease in the elbow of her sweater. She doesn’t hear the bell jingle at the front of the diner or the heavy footsteps approaching until someone plops into the seat beside her.
Regina purses her lips in annoyance as she gives the other woman a half-hearted glance.
“I’m not looking for a hope speech, Emma.” She sighs and pushes her untouched tea to the side. Emma lets out a soft chuckle, and the corners of her lips lift up slightly.
“You’re mistaking me for my mother,” she teases. “Besides, you don’t need a speech; you need a drinking buddy. Shots?”
Regina can’t hide the shock on her face as she turns to look at Emma. She was just soaking in her solo pity party about how no one checked up on her. But out of all the people, and of all the things she would expect them to say, Emma offering to be her drinking buddy is truly unexpected.
“Sure,” she waves her hand noncommittally, “why not?” Her voice drips in dismay as she crosses her arms over her chest and rests them on the countertop below.
“Two.” Emma lets out a faint chuckle and holds up two fingers to the bartender. Regina forces herself not to look at the woman next to her; instead, she wraps her hand around her mug and pretends to be interested in the now black liquid. She sighs softly, her free hand still fiddling with the string of her sweater.
“You know you did the right thing today,” she hears Emma say after a moment of silence. Regina rolls her eyes and attempts to dilute the annoyance in her tone.
“There it is, a hope speech,” she retorts. “I thought we were drinking ?”
“It’s not a speech, it’s a compliment.”
“I don’t need your validation, I know I did the right thing.” She inhales sharply. “I know because I’m miserable… again.”
Emma opens her mouth to argue, but is interrupted by the waitress placing their shots in front of them.
“Thanks.” Emma gives her a small, friendly smile before the waitress goes back into the kitchen. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure he’s still walking to that gas station. It’s like, at least ten miles away.”
“It does.” Regina’s top lip lifts into a small smirk of amusement as she raises her shot glass and clinks it against Emma’s. The sound rings through the quiet diner before she knocks the shot back.
She winces as the harsh liquid scrapes down her throat. She absolutely hates tequila; not only did it hurt going down, but it tasted awful, and the hangovers were excruciating. She preferred a more pleasant beverage, like her homemade cider.
“That’s just awful,” she croaks out and grabs her mug to take a large sip, preferring the burn of the hot tea over the burn of the alcohol. She forces down a strained swallow when she hears Emma laugh.
“It’s tequila! Everybody loves tequila.”
“Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m a queen and a bit more refined.” Regina rolls her eyes and coughs in an attempt to hide the smile forming on her lips. She looks down at her tea and shakes her head, the horrid taste of tequila still in her mouth.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Emma says and gets up. “Whaddaya say to a glass of the best apple cider you’ve ever tasted?”
Emma smirks at Regina’s gaping expression. “How did you know that’s what I wanted?“
“You forget that I know you, Regina.” Emma laughs and slaps a couple of bills on the counter, and then she pulls Regina up from the barstool. “Now let’s have some fun back at your house and forget about that pinecone!”
This time, Regina can’t hide her smile, and the chuckle that escapes her lips turns into a full, hearty laugh. And for the first time in a while, she feels like she may not be as alone as she thought.