The Way

Chapter Thirteen

"What's the matter, Miss Swan?"

Regina's voice jolted Emma from her daze as she stood at the shoreline, the waves halting but an inch from the toes of her knee-high boots. She glanced around, seeking the one to whom the voice belonged, and when she saw her, something in her gut twisted. She quickly looked back out to sea, unwilling to acknowledge her body's reaction to the arrival her once-nemesis.

"Nothing."

From behind her, Regina scoffed, and then in an unnatural assertiveness she moved to stand beside her. Emma felt herself tense, for even though she believed Regina could change and had already done so, the lingering fear of her and the knowledge of her past would be ever present in the depths of Emma's consciousness. What were they doing here, and why was Emma so afraid of the woman she had seen at her lowest just hours earlier?

Before she could step away from, soft fingertips lightly befell Emma's elbow, their touch oddly warm and comforting. Emma was surprised to become aware of a sudden, deep-seated need to prolong that contact. She turned and then her eyes had locked on Regina's. Conflicting emotions reflected in both blue eyes and brown, and without having planned to do so, the Savior slid her hands to wrap her fingers around Regina's pale, delicate wrists. She watched as Regina sucked in a breath through only slightly parted lips. She watched as the russet gaze darted almost anxiously down at Emma's hands. And she listened when Regina's voice broke through the ambience of the ocean, detecting the faintest quivers of uncertainty in the chords.

"I don't believe you," the brunette whispered, and Emma was transfixed by the way the dark eyes now flickered back and forth between each of her own. An strong and unfamiliar need floated between them, something neither had felt before, and suddenly Emma found herself moving into the fallen queen's personal bubble, into her most intimate space. Regina stepped back, scared, and Emma found that such an action on its own convinced her of her own unnecessary fears. She tightened her hold on Regina's wrists, and the woman stiffened.

"I didn't believe you when you told me the same thing," Emma whispered in return.

Suddenly one of the blonde's hands had found its way to touch the softness that was Regina's cheek.

Suddenly their noses brushed against one another.

Then, suddenly, Emma's lips were pressed against those of a fallen queen, firm and direct.

And, Regina, against all expectations from the blonde-haired Savior currently engaging her...well, she was bold enough to return the gesture.

But when Emma pulled away, she realized something was very, very wrong.

"Regina?" she breathed, and pulled her hand away from her once-nemesis only to see bright scarlet staining her palm. "Regina!"

Emma Swan was helpless as she watched Regina pale and collapse to the soft sands of the beach. Emma fell with her, tucking her bloodied palm behind her head, burying it in the dark hair. Tears streamed from her eyes as they looked into those of her companion. Thick, dark blood surged by the cup-full from a wound on the once-queen's chest, dutifully pumped by an ever-weakening heart until the organ at last shuddered and ceased to beat, and the life in the dark eyes was gone.