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Have you ever heard something that makes your insides burn? Makes you buckle over as though you’ve been punched in the stomach? Emma knows that feeling all too well. The sting is still there after all these years, after the different hits she’s taken. The first time she was physically buckled over in pain, overwhelmed with emotion, she was just six. She waved good-bye to the only family she’d known, her foster father’s hand tracing her foster mother’s stomach. They were having their own baby. Her room wasn’t hers anymore. The green walls of her bedroom were already half-way to being pink. Half-way to being painted out of their life. That sting, that excruciating pain, well – it never gets easier. Every time someone tore a little strip from Emma Swan with their callous ways, that excruciating pain accompanied it. She remembers being seventeen, pregnant, and doubled over in pain at Neal’s betrayal. She remembers bile rising in her throat, sickened at her situation, sickened at her own naivety. But, she also remembers getting harder. Building walls. She had defences. Strong, impenetrable defences. She’d been fine. Absolutely fine on her own. Sure, there had moments of misery in her box flat, moments she wished for friends and family around her. Caring for her. But then she’d get up, take a shower, wash her clothes, make her own food. Those thoughts would be pushed away, kept at bay for another few hours, days, weeks… But then the kid came along. She let herself believe. Hope. She believed these people when they said they cared for her. She’d let those walls slip away.She felt she’d lost whatever it meant to be Emma Swan. What did that name even mean to her anymore?Since coming to Storybrooke, finding her family, she'd become someone else. Her knees are weak. She can feel the itching beneath her skin and she wants to scratch at these thoughts, wash them out of her head. But she can't.Blue eyes linger on the scene before her. Her parents standing together, hands on her mother’s stomach. It was only a matter of time.She was six again, blonde hair matted, dirt on her chin, shoes with holes in, being replaced. She felt herself shrinking, the dull pain infiltrating her stomach. The universe truly hates her. It let her believe she could have a family and be enough. Then has to sit and watch as she’s replaced with a real child. New, unflawed, theirs. Completely.Her eyes flick away from Mary Margaret and to Henry, needing something, anything. Something to ground her. But there he is, older than he was when he was knocking down her door, needy and excited, changing her life. He’s grinning at his grandmother, arm around Grace, short hair, tall, thin, he’s not going to need her soon. He will be at College soon.She’s lost too much time already. Mistakes. She's made so many.“Emma?”She hears her name, but the voice doesn’t register with her. Nothing registers. Her vision is blurry.She sees Neal and Rumple engaged in conversation, smiling. Everyone is congratulating them. Everyone is smiling. Everyone is happy. They aren’t looking at her. “Em?”This time, the voice penetrates through. Despite the agony in the pit of her stomach, she manages to pull her mask on.“Regina.” There’s no energy in the response, but she manages a grimaced smile. “Are you okay?”Loaded question. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” She gulps, straightening herself. She doesn’t like the idea that pain could be registered on her face. Those walls really have slipped away. “They’re getting married again before the… baby’s due.”Replacing everything they had before. It’s a lot of information to take in all at once. They could have told her alone, rather than in the diner in front of everyone.But then she wouldn’t have been able to hide the hurt.Regina’s eyes are burning into the side of her head, but she can’t look back at her right now. She knows that the brunette would be able to see how she’s feeling. "Yeah." Regina says, sounding for the first time since Emma had met her - speechless. "Yeah." Emma repeats back, finally glancing at the brunette. "Shouldn't you be getting back to Robin." She doesn't let Regina respond. Doesn't wait to see the expression on her face, because if she did, she'd see confusion. Shock. She wouldn't see happiness or love like she's seen in everyone else's faces today.She sighs and heads for the door, needing air, needing to be anywhere but here. Emma’s been outside for a few minutes, content with the fact that no one has followed her. She’s breathing in the cool air, the first time she feels it. A sharp pain stabs on her back, near to her right shoulder. It’s like a cigarette burn.She reaches over with her left arm, jerking and wincing, but the pain is gone. She re-joins the party, manages a weak high five to Henry, forces a ‘congratulations’ through her lips and is happy her parents pull her into a hug so they don’t see the devastation on her face. . . . It’s been three days since the news at the diner. Emma wanted to say that life was back to normal, but it wasn’t. It really wasn’t. It was starting to dawn on her that it never would be. Strolling into the kitchen, eyes half-closed and tired, she avoids standing on the congratulatory gifts that are crowding the floor. Moves the wedding magazines from the table. Moves the left-over cake that really should be in the bin already to get the milk for cereal. Ignores the excited giggles of Mary Margaret and David as they discuss their big day, again. It’s soon. It has to be. They want to get married before the baby is born. ‘Three weeks, Em!’ Mary Margaret sing songs.If her mouth had been full, she’d have splattered milk all over the table. ‘Wow, that’s soon!’ Emma whispers out, wide eyes. ‘We need to take you dress shopping. As a bridesmaid, you need a lovely matching dress with the others!’ She’s not even talking to Emma, anymore. She’s lost in her own excitement. The blonde knows this because if she actually looked at her, she’d know that she was miserable. ‘You, Regina, Ruby… Plus, we need to plan my hen party!’ Emma smiles at that. That she can do. She leaves for the station earlier than usual. Needs to get out of the apartment. She swings by Granny’s, since she has the time, and asks for her usual coffee.As she hands over the coffee she passes a small bag with it. Brows furrowed, a smile working its way on to her face she looks up, ‘bear claws?’ Emma says, tone happy. ‘I thought you weren’t doing them anymore! It’s been months.’ Granny smiles, wordless, then turns to the next customer. That's the first real smile since she'd heard the news. . . . She’s playing with the crumbs from her pastry, whilst looking over the paperwork that needs to be returned to Regina, unable to concentrate.Her mind keeps wandering to her parents. To Henry. To R- The phone interrupts her thoughts, without thinking, she picks it up. ‘Emma Swan.’ She mutters. Archie’s moaning down the phone about Pongo and it almost makes the blonde smile, until she can see her mother walking into the office. ‘Emma, honey, just a quick one!’ The blonde looks up, trying not to appear irritated by her presence. ‘As you know, you are welcome to live with us for as long as you’d like! We love having you with us, and we love having Henry, but he’s growing up- he won’t need his room at ours anymore and we need it for the baby.’It’s actually a reasonable request. It makes sense. It really does. Emma pushes the burn down, because really, it shouldn’t be there. ‘Of course, yeah, that’s understandable.’ It really is. But the pain stays in her throat, lodged. ‘There’s no rush to leave, Emma.’ She’s saying all the right things, of course, but it does nothing to convince Emma. It only cements the fact that there is an expectation that she will eventually leave, the knowledge that she isn’t really in the family. She’s reminded that Henry is going to eventually leave. He won’t be able to stay over at theirs anymore, unless he sleeps on the sofa- and Regina would never allow that. She could sleep on the sofa, she would do that for him, but it’s not the same. Nothing is the same. She hates change. He will be going to College soon. That’s terrifying. She wonders for a brief moment whether it will be worth staying here when he leaves. What's there to stay for in Storybrooke?Her mind flashes with red lips, hazel eyes and heels, but that’s pushed away as quickly as it enters her head.She could go back to her old job.‘I’ve got to go on a call out. Pongo’s out again.’ She picks up her coffee that should be stone cold by now and takes a swig, it’s pleasantly warm. . . . Emma doesn’t get down like this usually. It’s frustrating. Pongo’s just running further into the woods, like a game, every time she gets close, he’s off.Normally, she’d be fine, laugh it off, but the frustration is working its way through her body and causing a head ache. She presses her palm against her forehead and squeezes harshly. She hears Pongo a little in the distance and juts forward, attempting to run, but failing. She flops forward and slides down the grass, rolling on to her back. Due to her speed going down a steep hill, it takes a while for her to stop moving. Her back is aching already, burning down one side. She’s unsure if she can even stand up. Feeling around slowly, she searches for her phone. Suddenly as she takes hold of it, the pain seems to drain from her body. Her back relaxes as she pain dissipates. Pongo’s breath is suddenly felt against her cheek, and she takes the opportunity to grab his collar. As she stands, she inspects her spoiled jeans, grass stained and dirty. Great.At least she’s not in pain. Scratch that, she can feel that god-damn pinching against her right shoulder.Perhaps she should see someone about this shoulder pain. . . . The next few days appear to go without any issues. It’s like the Universe is looking out for her. Despite not sleeping, tossing and turning most of the night, she wakes up refreshed. She gets her bearclaws, cinnamon hot chocolate is already made when she arrives at the diner, her paperwork load is lower for some reason, Henry brought a new video game around the other night and left it with her, there had been no dangerous call outs just some easily solved issues… It was just little things. Despite the fact she had no paperwork and there was some lasagne from Granny’s sitting on her desk, delivered by Ruby unprompted, she was still unsettled. They are trying on their bridesmaid’s outfits tonight. Getting them fitted. She spends the day trying not to fret about it. Around two weeks to go. She’s still fretting when she arrives, seeing Ruby and Regina already there. ‘Hey.’ She says, smiling at Ruby. Emma doesn’t know why she isn’t looking at Regina. She just can’t right now. ‘Miss Swan.’ She says in her usual way, but there’s an underlying softness to it. ‘Okay, ladies, let’s go! One at once, please.’ Ruby goes first. Regina and Emma are both unimpressed with the idea of trying dresses on. The blonde chances a look at the Mayor, noting her tired eyes. It’s a red dress. At least it’s not pink, Emma concedes internally. ‘Look really nice!’ Emma manages, because she does. Regina hums in agreement, smiling. Regina was about to offer to go next, but Emma’s being ushered in by Mary Margaret.The woman is helping her into her dress, talking about how this is going to be the wedding of the year, and how lucky she is, and how excited she should be, and it’s too much. She zips Emma up, noticing the pained look in her eyes.‘It looks lovely, Emma. Is it too tight?’ She asks with concern. Realising her expression, she makes a conscious effort to straighten her face. ‘No, it’s fine.’ She walks out of the changing room, uncomfortable but smiling. Mary Margaret fawns, ‘so lovely!’ she says, grinning, wanting to take a picture. However, she’s distracted by discussing some changes that need to be made with the tailor that she forgets and leaves Emma standing awkwardly. Ruby is distracted by the shoes at the other end of the shop, leaving Regina and Emma staring at one another. She hasn’t looked the brunette in the eyes for a while. She’s reminded now why that is. Regina is looking her over, silently. ‘Beautiful.’ She mutters, small smile on her lips, expressive hazel eyes locked with blue. ‘Absolutely beautiful, Emma.’ Her first name. It warms her up. ‘Thank you.’ Emma doesn’t want to blink, doesn’t want to ruin the moment. A genuine smile is making its way upon her face for the first time in around a week.Regina smiles back. The blonde would give anything to be inside her head. What is she thinking?Mary Margaret, however, doesn’t realise there is a moment to ruin when she says ‘strip off, Emma, don’t crease the dress! And do not sweat in it. Whip it off.’ Mary Margaret says with passion. The blonde and the brunette break out into a belly laugh, as if they’ve got some inside joke, neither fully sure what it is. ‘Regina, you next, let’s see!’ Whatever was going on within the brunette’s mind had clearly slipped away, Emma was sure of that.Regina leaves the changing room at the same time as Emma, leaving from cubicles next to each other. She’s comfortable in her jeans once again.She takes a moment to look over Regina. She looks absolutely amazing. Emma couldn’t help but feel that her and Ruby just couldn’t match up to her. How is she so perfect?‘Gorgeous, Regina!’ Mary Margaret says, grinning. Already giving orders to the tailor once more. As with Ruby and Emma, there are little tweaks to be made. Once again, the brunette is watching Emma. ‘You look…’ She takes a moment. ‘Perfect.’ Emma wasn’t sure if she should have said that, but it was true. She really did. Painfully perfect. ‘What the absolute hell is that?!’ Mary Margaret breaks the moment once again, pointing at Regina’s back. ‘That needs to be covered!’ Emma frowns as Regina burns red. ‘It’s just a bruise. It’s nothing.’ The blonde moves forward, ‘let me.’ But Regina backs away from her touch, from Mary Margaret’s prying eyes. ‘I slipped in the shower.’ ‘Well, we’ll think about covering it somehow if it’s not gone by then.’ She says, without thought for Regina. ‘Gina…’ Emma mutters, concerned. The name she hasn’t used in a long time tumbling from her lips. ‘I’m fine, Emma.’ She says, looking at her with conviction. The blonde would’ve believed her if she hadn’t caught a glimpse of the huge purple bruise starting from her spine and travelling below her dress. She sucks in deeply, shocked. But the brunette is in the changing rooms before she can say anything further.Once they leave, Regina is quick to head home. Ruby has a shift. Emma and Mary Margaret return home, spending the walk discussing baby names. It hurts. But when Emma’s led in bed that night, tears pooling in her eyes, threatening to spill, something changes.She feels an overwhelming sense of warmth spreading through her body. Although the tears are still threatening to fall, she feels better. Feels okay. It’s comforting. Like she’s being held. She slides down further into the bed, feeling as though she is sliding further into a warm body. She falls asleep within the next half an hour, comforted and content. In the morning, she isn’t sure whether she was dreaming.