Time Will Tell

Chapter Eighteen

"Regina! Regina! Open the bloody door!"

What is that pounding noise, her mind tries to catch up to the now, still induced with the foggy haze of dreamland. She slowly pries her eyes open, squinting as the morning sun seeps through her window and stings her retinas. She hardly has time to stretch before she hears the muffled voice of the dirty pirate downstairs once again.

"Regina, I know you're home. Open up!"

She groans, extending her stiff legs while she rolls over in bed to see if Emma is up, so she can deal with her lying, scheming husband.

"Emma," she murmurs, her voice still trying to wake up her vocal cords as well as she turns around only to be greeted with a cold, empty bed, except for a picture frame sitting upon the pillow. "Dammit Swan," she mutters under her breath.

She gently picks up the frame, studying the picture of herself with Emma closely. After they traveled to New York to bring back Lily, the entire town ended up at Granny's to celebrate. That night, she realized how close she and Emma had actually become through all their crazy adventures. Truthfully, they were always together, inseparable even as they worked side by side to defeat villains and raise a son together. So, that night, she took out her phone and captured an intimate moment of them laughing together in a booth.

Only two days later, Emma had sacrificed herself for Regina to become the Dark One. As her eyes absorb every detail of the picture, she finds it rather funny that Emma chose this picture to place in her bed, the one that holds such meaning and significance to their relationship and to Regina's battered heart.

"Dammit, Regina! I know my wife is here! I will break down this door if I have to!"

She should have lit his ass on fire years ago.

She sighs her annoyance, bitterly tossing the covers to the side before she clambers out of bed. She can't stand the idea of Hook seeing her in such disarray, even if her pajamas are fashionable, so she flicks her wrists, swapping out her attire for something that screams authority. She smooths her palms down her tight black skirt, her eyes admiring the burgundy blouse and high heels and nods to herself in the mirror; ready for whatever that pirate might have in store for her.

She calmly walks down the stairs, even if her heart is racing, all while Hook continues to assault her door with his only hand. She reaches for the handle, abruptly swinging the door wide open and causing Hook to stumble forward from his attack on the innocent wood.

"What?" She barks, stepping onto the porch, forcing Hook to shuffle backwards. She closes the door behind her and straightens her posture, ready for a fight.

"I want to see my wife. That's what!"

"Well, she's not here," she flippantly replies. "Go harass someone else's door."

"Where the bloody hell is she? You said you'd take care of her last night."

"I did take care of her," she rebuttals through clenching teeth, "I stopped her from drinking herself into a coma and I drove her back here, but when I woke up this morning, she was gone," she coldly informs him.

Killian forcefully scrubs his hand down his face through his black stubble, expressing how agitated he truly is. He groans, but surprisingly, he takes a very deep and calming breath before he runs that big mouth of his again.

"Where is she?"

Regina folds her arms firmly across her and purses her lips as she glares at him, mindlessly tapping her fingers against her elbows.

"You don't know?" She smugly inquires. "You're her husband, Guyliner."

"Her parents?" He weakly suggests.