You Found Me

2. Helium-Filled Balloon

A crisp, chilly October day dawns, spilling its rays of sunlight into Regina's room, peeking through her curtains and spreading across her face as if teasing her, like a child nudging her awake and hoping for breakfast.

Regina comes to slowly, stretching her arms high above her head and making high, undignified squeaking sounds while her hands clench and unclench. She glances beside her, noting her alarm clock. 10:04? It's a Saturday, but she hadn't meant to sleep in. She's out of bed and halfway across her room before realizing there's no boy in the room down the hall for her to rouse and tell to wash up for breakfast. Her palm settles on her forehead, rubbing small circles there as she closes her eyes, still slightly dizzy from changing her orientation too quickly. Henry's been gone for over a month now, but it hasn't gotten any easier. Every time she makes dinner, she still sets the table for two before remembering, and she finds herself outside of his door almost every evening to bid him goodnight. When she goes to the grocery store, she sometimes picks up doughnuts or more of his favorite treats. Every time she trips over his shoes near the door, she just stops herself from shouting across the house to pick up after himself. There's traces of him all over the house--his shampoo in the shower, his jackets in the coat closet, his video games by the TV, his old textbooks in the den.

And every day, Regina has to remind herself that he's not here. He's worlds away, living his own adventure--his own story--and she doesn't know when she'll see him again. She could hug him again tomorrow, or he might show up on her doorstep in ten years. The not-knowing is part of what kills her.

Regina wraps a robe around herself and moves to the bathroom attached to her master bedroom, starting the shower. As steam rises from the water and clouds the bathroom mirror, she allows her thoughts to wander towards Emma. The blonde has been scarce recently--even more so than usual. Any weekend plans they might make are squandered by the pirate, and Regina frowns as she begins to think she hasn't seen her since they bumped into each other at Granny's--and that had been two weeks ago. They'd had a few good texting conversations since then, but even those are fizzling out. One thing's for certain: Emma is avoiding her.

Regina opens the robe and it slips off of her shoulders before she steps into the steamy mist, the droplets nearly burning her skin. She likes her showers much too hot. She combs her fingers through her dark hair, closing her eyes and feeling tracks of water collect on her eyelashes and the end of her nose before slowly dripping off.

Her conversation with Emma in her kitchen the day Henry left has been haunting her for weeks. She's known ever since Emma married that man that he would do his best to break down her walls (and then some)--then build up this new person that Regina could barely recognize, but from what Emma had told her, this is far over the line. Her shampooing becomes more aggressive as she continues to dwell on Emma's relationship. How dare the pirate so much as suggest that she leave her family? Every time she considers even the possibility of Emma moving away, she feels sick. After everything, Emma has become so important to her--her best friend, her first choice for almost anything. She can't imagine a reality where Emma doesn't pester her while she's working, or where they no longer have semi-weekly lunches, or long, late-night phone calls. Without Henry and without Emma...that's when Regina will realize just how alone she really is. Though the town has grown to love her and she has many acquaintances and even friends, including Snow--without the two most important people in her life, Regina doesn't know how she would cope.

Even as she thinks this, she knows she's being selfish. This isn't about her, damn it--it's about Emma. It's about how her sorry excuse for a husband treats her, and Regina only knows the small, wallpapered-over version that Emma very rarely gives her: a tiny speck in comparison to an entire universe. What happens behind closed doors, Regina shudders to even imagine. All Regina wants is for Emma to remember her worth and either take control of her relationship, or leave it. Preferably leave it. Regina doesn't know exactly what goes on in Emma's home, but her gut tells her it's unrepairable. It breaks Regina's heart into a million tiny shards; she can only imagine what sort of pain the blonde is going through--and even if she doesn't realize she's hurting now...oh, god, she will eventually. And it will break her.