You and Tequila

Chapter Forty

She waits. She waits impatiently with her legs folded up like a pretzel, anxiously bouncing at the knees while she glares murderously below. Her heart has been like a jackhammer, cracking through the cavity, just ready to lash out and finally release all this pent-up rage. For the last thirty minutes, she's been repeating her monologue over and over again, ready for this battle Regina will unknowingly wake up to. She knows exactly everything she wants to say, but she also knows that in the heat of the moment, she will inevitably forget more than half of her practiced speech.

Dark, thick lashes slowly flutter to life, forcing Emma's spine to straighten and her heart to pound so ferociously that she breaks out in a full-blown sweat. Regina stretches out her stiff limbs before her mind is fully awake. A small smile is evident before it quickly vanishes like a ghost in the night and she frantically pats the bed beside her.

Oh good, so she remembers she's supposed to be watching my son, Emma thinks to herself as she sits in complete silence and watches the scene play out before her.

Black, vacant eyes spring to life as Regina's entire body shoots up in bed and she gasps in fright. "Henry?" She calls out just as her mind registers Emma's rigid body directly in front of her. "Emma?"

"Mmhmm," is all she can murmur because the amount of anger pulsating through her body like a bass drum is far too overwhelming at the moment.

"What are you doing home already? Where's Henry? Oh god," she stifles her mouth with her own hand slapping across her parted lips as she gasps and realization washes over her.

"Yeah..." Emma drawls out cynically, clenching the plastic baggies impossibly tight between her furious fists, producing a slick sheen of sweat against her palms. "Anything you would like to confess?" She sarcastically interrogates even though a bitter acid is sliding it's way up the back of her throat.

"Where's Henry? Is he alright?" Regina ignores her and focuses on what's most important.

"Why does it matter?" She shrugs noncommittally, "obviously he doesn't mean anything to you."

"Stop!" Regina barks out, running her trembling fingers through her hair. "Cut the passive aggressive bullshit, you know how much Henry means to me."

"Obviously not," Emma rebuttals, hastily scrambling off the bed to stand tall and assert her power, because she's feeling far too vulnerable in this moment and she needs to remind herself to stay mad. "If he meant so much to you, then why the hell would you risk his safety for a stupid high?" Emma shouts, each word growing louder and louder until she explodes and whips the bags of pills at Regina.

The brunette flinches, but she doesn't have enough time to shield herself from the unexpected bags being hurled at her. Emma studies the way those lifeless eyes crawl toward the pills for a split second before traveling back toward her.

"You swore to me that you were sober!" Emma shouts, folding her arms across her chest to stop herself from lunging at Regina just to smack some sense back into her.

"I am!" Regina scrambles to her knees and reaches for Emma, but she is far faster and immediately jumps back from the unwanted touch. "Emma, please. I have not had a single sip of alcohol since October," she vows with an urgency Emma hasn't quite heard in her girlfriend's tone before.

"It doesn't matter, Regina. Sober is sober! You just replaced the alcohol with a different substance. It's the same fucking thing!"

"No, no, it's not. It's completely different," her girlfriend firmly declares, but Emma isn't having any of these poor excuses. "I can function so much better if I just take one, that's a hell of a lot better than drinking myself into a stupor where I cannot control my actions."