Emma set the coffees on the island before briefly departing the kitchen to rummage through the bag she had brought in. By the time she returned with her hand-like prosthetic in place of the former, Regina had already plated the sandwiches and sat adjacent to the free place setting. Emma caught the slight falter of Regina's movements when the brunette had glanced up quickly to see Emma enter and stare again before moving her gaze to the aesthetically accurate limb of her right arm. The blonde shrugged then moved to Regina's left and sat, quietly thanking the older woman for the food.
Emma knew they had to talk. It was why they had left the bedroom. It was too easy to fall into ignorance whenever they got too close to one another and a bed was right there, but now that they were seated next to each other, the afternoon sun brightening up the ridiculously yellow kitchen, Emma was at a loss for words. Where should she begin? How should she begin?
She chanced a covert glimpse at Regina and found her gaze locked on Emma's hand, so lifelike even Emma sometimes forgot she had the barest of feeling in it. Washing down her bite with a gulp of her coffee, she cleared her throat and gently moved the fingers of her prosthetic. "It looks really nice, but it's not as easy to manipulate as the other one is."
Regina's eyes snapped up at Emma's words, and her cheeks tinted pink at being caught. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was your actual hand."
Regina's eyes darted back to the prosthetic without her conscious approval, and Emma figured that was a good place as any to start.
"You heard the story of what happened that day. With Neal? I got a bullet in the hand. It hurt like a bitch. I obviously didn't have the best medical care, so it started to get infected." She scooted closer and held up her hand and outlined the back of her prosthetic with her index. "All down here it was purple and green, the whole hand eventually swelled, and there was puss and blood and something else."
"Emma." Regina looked nauseous as she stared horrified.
"I made a sling for it out of a sleeve, but eventually the pain got to be too much. The report says when they found me, my belt was tightened so tight around my arm, the metal was piercing into my skin, and my hand was practically dead at that point." The prosthetic lay limp between them until Regina caressed a finger over the smooth, skin-like feel of Emma's wrist, following the junctures of the mechanics just beneath its surface until her hand rested firmly on top of the blonde's, their fingers clasping in unison. "It slowed down the infection from spreading any further than it could have."
"I'm so sorry," Regina breathed out, squeezing her fingers tightly with Emma's.
"It's okay," the blonde smiled and squeezed back. She leaned back on her barstool though kept their fingers interlocked.
"I'm sorry," Regina repeated with a shake of her head because no matter what the past three years had been for her, she couldn't even begin to process what it was like for Emma. "I'm so sorry."
"You said that," Emma said with a gentle laugh that only made Regina sigh and lean closer toward the younger woman. Their food sat forgotten on the island as Emma turned in her chair to fully face the older woman. "I was in Brookhaven for a lot of reasons. I have nightmares. Probably worse than what you ever saw. They pop up pretty regularly still, but I've learned to cope with it."
"You were fine just earlier," Regina observed.
"Yeah," Emma realized. "But I might not be tonight. It gets pretty scary in there."
"I'm sorry," Regina repeated again, and at Emma's incredulous look, she clarified. "For yelling at you. And for snapping at you when you woke up."
Emma smirked. "If you didn't snap at me, then you wouldn't be the Regina I know and love."
The tease made the brunette grin bashfully, and with the afternoon light silhouetting Regina's face, Emma was struck by how much she missed seeing that smile. She wanted nothing more in the world than to press her lips against them. Regina beat her to it, and Emma was almost surprised feeling the familiar yet foreign sensation as their lips moulded together.
"I love you." Regina sighed out a breathy laugh against Emma's lips, and the vibration made the blonde's heart flutter as her own face sported a matching grin. "I've only said that to you on paper."
"You said it this morning," Emma said with a pleased blush to her cheeks.
"I know. And I mean it," Regina said sincerely cupping Emma's cheeks in between her palms.
"What do you mean on paper?"
It was Regina's turn to blush as she fully sat back on her seat. "Dr. Hopper has been helping me, I guess, grieve. I must have written hundreds of letters to you by this point."
"You really thought I was dead," Emma said in wonder.
"What else did I have to go on to say otherwise?" Regina asked gently.
"I don't know." Emma glanced down, fiddling with her hands in her lap. "I was just so absorbed with my own problems, that I didn't give a lot of thought as to what was happening over here and what you were going through."
"They're not problems," Regina began, taking Emma's hand in her own when the blonde scoffed. "I mean, they are, but it's not like you stubbed your toe and ran away. I get it. Or at least I'm starting to. But don't downplay your success, my love."
Emma chuckled this time as she placed her free hand over their joined ones. "I haven't heard you say that in so long."
"My love," Regina purred as she leaned in and placed a soft kiss against Emma's jaw.
Emma's hand fell to her waist as they met in the middle, both leaning up off their stools as their lips searched for each other once again. Before they could touch, a thought crossed Emma's mind, halting both their movements. "How long have you been seeing Archie for?"
"Two years," Regina answered pulling back slightly. "I may have reverted to my eighteen-year old self when I found out the news."
"I'm—"
Regina pressed a finger to Emma's lips. "I think we've both exhausted our apologies for the day. Where were you before Boston?"
"Germany. Military hospital. My body basically went into shock during the amputation surgery. It shut itself down and I was in a coma state for seven months."
"A coma?" Regina gasped, gripping Emma's arms tightly.
They sat back down, fingers linked again, and though both women knew they wanted nothing more than to rekindle their flame, to touch and be touched, and revel in the presence of their found love, the journey ahead of them had barely been paved. With every recollection told, a new stone was turned. Emma had been preparing for this moment, working so hard to fight against the demons in her mind to remind herself how far she had come, and now that it was here, sharing it with a person who wasn't paid to sit there and listen, sharing it with Regina, Emma felt a weight shift from her shoulders as Regina listened patiently.
Emma found it easiest to explain the story behind every scar — her confinement with Nabil and being pitted against him like a caged animal, the bullet graze on the back of her calf that acted up on odd nights, even going as far as retrieving the postcard she had held onto for years. Emma once thought she had more than enough baggage as a foster child turned military soldier, but carefully reading Regina's expression as it ranged from horror to anger to sympathy had Emma questioning when enough would be enough. But then Regina led Emma by the hand into her study and retrieved a box hidden in her left hand side drawer. Emma didn't notice that her headshot was proudly displayed by Regina's laptop encased in a golden frame. She was too fixated on the bundles of letters wrapped neatly in the box, letters she had never seen before. Nearly every letter written by Regina to Emma had the brunette saying she missed her, loved her, and wished her home. Tear tracks still stained some of the older writings, and Emma felt her heart clench as she read Regina's words pleading her return.