You Have No Idea What I'm Capable Of

Chapter Eleven

Tempest - Chapter 11

It was still raining when Emma slowly returned to reality. She was immediately greeted with a pounding headache behind her eyes and an overwhelming desire to vomit. The sheriff kept her eyes shut, mildly afraid to take in her surroundings. The blonde had no recollection of leaving the bar. The last thing she remembered was downing a series of tequila shots. God, I hate tequila. The thought brought on a strong wave of nausea that Emma barely managed to suppress. Emma peeked through the sheet covering her face and was relieved to find herself in her own bed.

The relief only lasted a moment until Emma felt a body shift behind her. Oh God. The blonde thought to herself, who the fuck is in my bed. Panic mixed with her hangover and Emma's head was absolutely swimming. She couldn't make the room stop spinning. The combination was too much and Emma bolted out of the bed straight to her bathroom where she laid against the cold porcelain toilet swearing an oath to never ever drink again.

It was a long time before the sheriff's body stopped heaving and she washed herself up preparing to re-enter her bedroom and greet her mysterious bedfellow. She prayed it wasn't Archie.

Emma poked her head into the room and let out a deep breath when she saw Mary Margaret in her PJs stirring awake in the blonde's bed. At least it wasn't a horrible awkward one-night-stand.

"How are you feeling?" Mary Margaret asked rubbing her eyes and leaning against the headboard.

"Oh you know, like a jackhammer has taken hold of my brain and my guts are trying to flee my body through my throat. No biggie." Emma had crawled back into bed.

"That must have been some night last night." The schoolteacher tried to underplay her concern. Emma stayed quiet and lowered her gaze to the floor. She immediately remembered the mayor's harsh words and a stab of pain penetrated her chest.

"Emma whatever it is you can tell me." Mary Margaret's expression had changed to reflect how worried she was about the blonde. Emma stayed quiet. Trying to think of where she would even begin. Tears welled up in her eyes but she shut her eyes tight to fight them back.

"I. . ." Emma looked away and out her bedroom window. She couldn't find the words. "It really doesn't matter anymore." She finished with a sharp exhale.

Mary Margaret wasn't buying that line again. "You don't have to minimize your feelings Emma. If you don't want to talk that's ok."

"No, it's just. . . I don't even know where to start and I'm really sure whatever it was is over now. So what's the point?" Emma closed her eyes trying not to feel the words she was saying.

"That doesn't mean your feelings aren't still there, you can't just shut those off." Mary Margaret took Emma's hand and gave it a little squeeze. The sheriff let the idea of confiding in her roommate roll around in her mind. Maybe she can help me make sense of it ... Of Regina's erratic behavior ... Of my own feelings. Emma continued to debate the benefit of a third party opinion. She felt that she could trust Mary Margaret, but she just didn't know how to let people in. Emma knew she was good at helping others, but when it came to her own needs it was almost impossible to rely on anyone but herself.

A long sigh escaped her lips and Emma tried to find the words. "If I tell you. You can't breath a word to anyone. Not Ruby. Not your diary. Nothing. Ok?" Mary Margaret motioned with her hand over her lips as if she was closing a zipper and tossing away an imaginary key. "I'm serious M." Emma's eyebrows were scrunched together as if pleading.

"I know! I am being serious! How bad could be Emma. It's not like your having an affair with Mayor Mills." Mary Margaret said with a smile trying to calm down her roommate.