Writing Challenge: Breaking Point, Chapter Ten (10/12)

Title: Breaking Point
Summary: Emma leaving town was out of the question, and that was perfectly fine with Regina. As a matter of fact, Emma absolutely must stay in Storybrooke for a long, long time. And she knew just how to accomplish that.
Spoilers: Up through 1x19, "The Return."
Characters: Mostly Emma, Regina, and Mary Margaret, with special appearances by Henry, August, Archie, David, and Dr. Whale along the way.
Rating/Warning: PG-13, mostly for language.
Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I'm just playing in someone else's sandbox. Please don't sue me! You won't get much.
Author's Note: I've written a few therapy session scenes in my time, but none of them came out quite as easily as this one. Once again, what you see below is not the direction I intended on taking when I started writing the scene. It happened as I wrote, and I decided I liked it a lot better than my original plan of Emma faking her way through the session. Also, I'm beginning to see why there's so much Regina/Emma fic out there. Their back-and-forth is really fun to write.

-----

The nightmares were different that night. They would start out the same, horrible images and disjointed flashes that left Emma screaming in the dream and gasping for breath in reality. But every now and again, one of the flashes would include Emma doing something to help.

Regina telling her in no uncertain terms to stay away from Henry. Emma producing a detailed record of everything Regina had done, everything that in reality Emma couldn’t prove, and informing her she was bringing it to a judge.

Mary Margaret poised to bite into an apple that would put her into a slumber so deep it mimicked death. Emma snatching the apple from her and throwing it in the trash.

Graham falling down at her feet, his eyes closed, his heart stilled. Emma kneeling down next to him and reviving him with a kiss.

She woke from the final dream--where she had finally won custody of Henry from Regina and moved him into a palace she was sharing with Mary Margaret and David--feeling better than she had in days. She was suddenly starving, and when her breakfast tray arrived, she ate every single morsel in record time.

The nurses won’t have the slightest clue what to make of that, she thought with a grin. She hadn’t more than picked at any of her meals since she’d been in their care.

When she finished her breakfast, she pulled out her new deck of cards and dealt a game of solitaire while eagerly awaiting Archie’s arrival.

The doctor had barely gotten out a hello before Emma started telling him about her dreams. Not everything, of course. She left out all the fairy-tale-inspired details, and it didn’t take a professional to see that a vast majority of them seemed to showcase her delight at defeating Regina. Considering the reason she’d been placed on a psych hold in the first place, she highly doubted that would go over well. But she told him the important thing, how before the nightmares had left her feeling helpless, even hopeless, but the ones last night had made her feel … empowered.

“What do you think that signifies?” Archie asked her once he could finally get a word in edgewise.

“You want me to do your job for you now?” she asked with a sparkle in her eye.

He blinked in surprise. She hadn’t joked with him like that in … well, ever.

“Archie, I’m kidding. I think it means I’m ready to take control now.” And she knew that was true. She had no doubt that she was ready to be the hero, ready to beat the Evil Queen at her own game. Ready to give everyone their lives back, the lives that Regina had stolen from them.

“I think you’re right, Emma,” he said, giving her a smile. “That’s a huge step. A real breakthrough.”

Oh, Archie, you have no idea, she thought. Aloud, she said. “So you’ll be recommending me for release, right?”

When he hesitated, her face fell. “Really? Archie, come on!”

“Emma, there’s still the matter of you attacking the mayor, not to mention the fact that you’re pretty much the first patient who had to be taken out of restraints for her own safety.” She glanced down at the marks around her wrists, which had faded some but still burned if something rubbed against them. “Those aren’t things that can be overlooked just because you had a couple of dreams.”

Her first instinct was to argue. To shoot to her feet and pace the length of the room while spouting off about how having to deal with Regina on a daily basis was enough to make anyone snap. Then Henry flashed through her mind, followed by August. She’d promised them that she’d try, and arguing would not get her any closer to freedom. She forced herself to remain seated and remain calm.

“I understand that, Archie, but I don’t know what I can do to make that better. I’m sorry it happened, but it did happen and I can’t change it.” She paused and took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. “I guess what I’m asking is, how do we move forward from something like this?”

“We could talk about why it happened,” he told her. He held her gaze, wanting to make she understood the ground rules. “Really talk, which means full sentences and no cutting the conversation off when you don’t like where it’s going.”

“But I already told you why it happened,” Emma blurted out before she could censor herself. Damn it, she hadn’t wanted to argue.

“You said it was because Regina told you she crushed Graham’s heart.”

At the mention of Graham, her brave face faltered. “Yes.”

“And you said it made you mad.”

“Right.”

“Why?”

“Why did it make me mad?”

“That’s the question.”

“Wouldn’t it make you mad?”

“It might make me angry, sure,” he allowed, “but I don’t think I’d leap over a table and try to strangle someone over it. What made you react like that, Emma?”

She scrunched her nose and furrowed her brow, not quite understanding the point he was trying to make. “Why wouldn’t I react like that? She told me she killed someone I …” She trailed off, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. Oh, shit.

“Someone you what, Emma?” Archie asked, shifting in the chair, excitement lighting his eyes. “Finish that sentence. Someone you …”

“Cared for.” Even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t what was originally going to come out of her mouth. She was going to say, “loved.”

Did she really love Graham? Maybe. She certainly believed that maybe they might have had something, if only they’d had more time. She didn’t let down her wall with just anyone, after all, and she’d let it down hard and fast with him.

She knew now that she shouldn’t have, but then? Then she’d had hope. The teensiest, tiniest amount of hope that maybe, just maybe, it would lead to something good. Something she didn’t even know she’d been searching for, but something she instinctively knew would change everything and change it for the better.

But now she’d never know. She’d never know what might have been, and it was all Regina’s fault.

“Emma, what’s going on?”

She looked up at Archie. This time, her first instinct wasn’t to argue but to shut up. To stop the session right here, right now.

Once again, Henry and August appeared in her mind’s eye. Henry pleading with her to try, August telling her to play along. She would have loved to simply play along, but it was too late now for pretending. Her body language had given too much away. Goddamn it all to hell, she was going to have to go through with this for real, wasn’t she? She took a deep breath and chose her words carefully. “I cared about him, and I think it might have grown into something more than that, if only we’d had the chance.”

And that was where she’d intended to stop, but for some reason, she kept speaking. “Now I’ll never know, will I? He died in front of me, Archie. We kissed, he collapsed, and she claimed responsibility for it. So, yeah, it made me mad.” The sheer fury in her voice surprised her, but it was the tears pricking her eyes that finally made her stop talking.

Archie gave her a sympathetic smile. “So perhaps it wasn’t just about Regina pushing your buttons. Perhaps it was also about Graham, how much you cared for him, and that sense of loss for the chance you’ll never have.”

Emma slouched in her chair, weighed down by comprehension. That was why Regina had confessed to killing Graham. She’d been able to tell, even better than Emma herself, how raw that pain was, how the emotions were simmering just under the surface, how explosive Emma’s reaction would be once she learned the truth.

Holy friggin’ shit, Regina had really gone for the jugular on this thing. Oh, Emma could not wait to get the hell out of this stupid hospital and go take the evil bitch down a notch or twelve.

She suddenly remembered that Archie was waiting for a response from her. “Yeah, maybe,” she murmured.

“We made real progress here today, Emma.”

Emma wearily met Archie’s eyes. If this was progress, well, she could do without it.

-----

Apparently, not long after Archie Hopper left to write up his report recommending Emma Swan’s release, the patient herself had plopped down in bed and fallen into a sound sleep. She hadn’t woken for lunch and had slept through both August’s and Mary Margaret’s visits.

Regina wasn’t quite sure what to make of all she’d been hearing from her source at the hospital. Sometimes it seemed as if Emma was doing better, and other times it seemed as if she was doing worse.

The doctors at the hospital weren’t sure what to make of it, either. Although Archie’s official recommendation was for release with follow-up appointments, the crew at the hospital had decided that her behavior was still too erratic to be sure. Another twenty-four hours of observation and they’d revisit the decision.

Regina could not wait to be the one to inform Emma of this fact.

Oh, she’d made the visit under the guise of concern, that she’d just wanted to see how the poor dear was doing and to wish her a speedy recovery. She was definitely taking a risk--if she appeared to forgive Emma, then others might forgive her, too--but she couldn’t help herself. It had been days since she had been able to play with Emma while Emma was aware of it.

She noted with some amusement that this whole playing with Emma Swan thing of hers was beginning to border on addiction. Ah, well. There were worse things to be addicted to, she supposed. She got to make Emma’s life a living hell while having an unspeakable amount of fun. It was a win-win, really.

When Regina pushed back the privacy curtain, she was disappointed to see that Emma was still fast asleep. Her breathing was deep and even, and she looked far more serene than she had the other night. Regina didn’t think she’d awaken for a while, certainly not within the next fifteen minutes. Thinking quickly, she pulled the visitor’s chair back away from the bed before sitting down, making sure the legs skidded across the tile as she did so.

Sure enough, the sound roused Emma. She glanced around the room, confused, trying to figure out what had woken her. The second she spotted Regina, she bolted upright. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too, Ms. Swan,” Regina smirked.

“Can it. What do you want?”

“I just want to see how you’re faring, dear.”

“I’m ‘faring’ better than I’m sure you were expecting,” Emma shot back.

“Why, I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean.” When Emma set her jaw, Regina laughed to herself. She hardly had to try to get a rise out of that girl.

“It’s just you and me, Your Majesty,” Emma retorted, disdain dripping in her tone. “You can cut it out with the false innocence. For the third time, what do you want?”

It was all Regina could do not to throw Emma’s attitude back in her face. Instead, she smiled sweetly. “I was just wondering how your stay has been.”

“A barrel of laughs.”

“I’m glad.”

“I’m sure you are.”

Regina let the conversation drop as she looked Emma up and down. Though it had only been three days, she looked like she’d lost a little weight. Her face was drawn, her skin pale. Her eyes were hard, anger swimming in them, but there was something behind that anger that hadn’t been there at the beginning of the week. Something … uncertain. Or maybe haunted?

A grin formed on Regina’s lips. What started out as a ploy merely to make Emma Swan appear unstable had turned into something actually damaging to her. No doubt Emma was furious and determined. But underneath that, she was terrified and trying her damnedest to hide it.

Which meant Regina’s news would not go over well at all. Her grin widened. “I meant I’m glad you’re enjoying your stay because you’re going to be here a while longer.”

For the briefest of moments, Emma’s resolve crumbled and pure anguish flickered across her face. Then just as quickly as it had come, it was gone, replaced with the familiar contempt. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re not being released,” Regina hissed, conveniently omitting the part about re-evaluating her in twenty-four hours. “It means that you’re stuck here and you’d better get used to it.” She stood, smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt, and looked Emma in the eye. “I always win, Ms. Swan.”

She turned on her heel and headed for the door, pausing only once when she heard Emma murmur something under her breath. It wasn’t until she was halfway down the corridor that what Emma had said finally registered: “Not this time.”