A/N:

This story is pre season 3b finale. Everything is canon up to that point except with a few altercations:

Rumpel hasn't killed Zelena (she remains in the jail cell without magic)

Emma still has her magic

Robin acts more as Regina's best friend instead of a love interest (This is an SQ fic after all)

This fic is based on Emma's behavior in 3x19 when she was continuously making snide comments to Regina about how much better Henry's life was in NYC and then that scene where she yells at Henry outside of Granny's. After that episode, I developed a theory that Emma would somehow become the villain for season 4, but that didn't happen- so this is me making it happen. Still not sure how long the fic is going to be, we'll see where it takes me.

Pre season 3b finale

Everything canon except Rumpel hasn't killed Zelena, she's still in jail cell without magic.

Robin acts not as a romantic interest, but rather a best friend.

Emma still has her magic.

Based on Emma's behavior in 3 x 19 when she continuously made snide comments to Regina about Henry's life in NYC being so much better than his real memories, and her blowing up at Henry.

For the last three days, Emma Swan couldn't sleep.

The moment her head hit the pillow, her mind swirled out of control- sifting through memories both false and true from the previous year. Though she understood the need for her to regain her memories and return to Storybrooke, she couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for the blissful ignorance that had enveloped the last year. Snow White, Prince Charming, the Evil Queen, and the Wicked Witch of the West were simply children's stories- Neal was only a shadow in her past- she had never chosen to give Henry up for adoption. And what does she have now? A town full of messed up fairy tale characters, a tombstone with Neal's name on it, and magical powers she can't even begin to try to understand.

Sitting up in bed, she pressed her index fingers to her temples- rotating slowly in order to seep the conflicting memories and emotions from thought. Looking over at the clock she heaved a sigh noticing she had been awake all night. She flung the sheets off her body and got dressed. She crept down the stairs and started making coffee, halfway into making Henry's morning hot chocolate, she remembered he was staying at Regina's house. She tossed the contents into the sink and slammed the mug down on the counter. She missed her son, but she knew he wanted to be with his brunette mother to make up for the missing year. Emma had fallen into a comfortable routine and found that diverting from the former rituals bothered her more deeply than she had anticipated. She had always embraced and even sought after change, but after experiencing a year of blissful domesticity- Emma found readjusting to the Storybrooke lifestyle a little more complicated and emotionally turbulent than she would have liked. Sliding her fresh coffee into her thermostat, she grabbed her keys and left for the Sheriff's station.

"Good morning, dearest." Came a velvety voice from the small jail cell in the Sheriff's station. Emma grunted without so much as a glance at the red headed poised gracefully atop her perfectly made cot. Her eyes followed the Sheriff, studying every little detail of her face and posture. "Not sleeping well are we, Savior?"

"That's none of your business, witch." Emma grumbled as she walked into her office and kicked the door close behind her. Zelena kept her eyes fixed as she watched the Sheriff plop in front of her desk and start fumbling around with a few loose papers. A small smile picked at the powerless witch's lips as she observed the dark circles under Emma's eyes and the way she constantly cracked her limbs and slouched in her seat. An hour later, Emma had finished her coffee but found she still wasn't awake enough to get through the morning. Stretching her hands above her head she gave a loud yawn and stood up to leave for Granny's. As she passed Zelena's cell, the former witch's voice cut through the morning silence.

"A hot cup of Builders' Tea would be divine."

"Seriously?"

"What, dearest?"

"You're in jail. You don't get special requests."

"Well, I assume since the facility here has no proper system for feeding inmates and you feed me food from Granny's anyway, I might as well make a slight adjustment."

Emma slowly blinked and shook her head. She was definitely too tired to deal with this nonsense. Returning from Granny's with a large cup of coffee for herself, the Sheriff chucked a small take out back through the bars towards the redhead. Without a word, she bent down and placed a small to go cup just outside the cell bars- then turned on her heel to her office.

Zelena pushed herself from the cot and reached through the bars to the cup. She opened the lid to find the cup full of hot Earl Grey tea. The steam rose and caressed her nostrils as she breathed it in deeply. "Thank you, dearest." She called to the Sheriff's turned back.

Emma didn't understand why she did it, but if it got the witch to finally shut up, then at this point she really didn't care. Zelena picked through her breakfast of plain porridge and a red apple while eyeing the Sheriff carefully. Prison was dull and she found Emma Swan very intriguing now that she could study her up close. As the two women sat in silence, a loud bang sounded from the Sheriff's office. The filing cabinet had shot into the air and came crashing to the ground, papers flying across the room. Emma shot to her feet cursing as she tried to pick up the mess.

"What happened?" asked the witch from across the room.

"Not like it's any of your business, but I sneezed and the filing cabinet went ape shit." Zelena let out a small chuckle.

"Magic is sporadic when one is sleep deprived and under stress. Even the most simple of gestures or tasks could blow something up if not controlled. Take a deep breath, dearest." Emma glared in the witch's direction and turned her back, not letting Zelena see her take the witch's advice, but the witch didn't miss it. "Very good, dearest. You'll want to do your breathing exercises each time you feel your stomach drop, or another filing cabinet will be subject to the might of the Savior."

"Who the hell do you think you are trying to teach me about magic?" said Emma whirling around. She had been pretty good at simply ignoring Zelena, but her recent battle with sleep deprivation slowly chipped away at the Sheriff's defenses.

"I only wish to help you, Savior."

"That's funny cause a few days ago you wanted me dead."

"Not dead, dearest, no… you'd simply not be born yet."

"Regardless. You hurt me, you hurt my son- I don't want anything to do with you."

"But I can help you."

"What do you mean, help me?"

"I know what's been troubling you, for it too is in my mind."

"What the hell are you even talking about?" Emma knew that she should walk away, but something held her steady. She had to know what Zelena was talking about.

"You and I have more in common than you think, dearest. If you can recall- I too was abandoned by my own mother and father. I was thrust into a home where I wasn't appreciated, or loved. Slowly being raised and trimmed to be the perfect, quaint little housemaid by an alcoholic father." Emma listened closely, though their pasts had a couple differences, Zelena's upbringing wasn't so far off from her own. "I was being raised to become something I never wanted to be, just like you."

Emma stood in silence, considering her words. True she had never wanted to be the Savior, she never really felt like the Savior. After the first curse broke, she was willing to believe that she had her role in this twisted fairy tale- but she never felt like she fit into the town. She only stayed for Henry. Her entire life comprised of not belonging, always being the outsider, and the only time she felt just right was when she was with her son in New York. Before she knew what she was doing, the Sheriff pulled a chair close to the jail cell and sat down.

"I wish Henry and I had never come back from New York." Zelena's eyes twinkled victoriously as she could feel the beginnings of the Saviors closely manicured walls slowly crumble. "This last year has been incredible. So peaceful. I had a good job, a good apartment, my son…" she trailed off as she became lost in thought. "Ever since I've returned to Storybrooke, I've felt just so, so angry. I don't understand why."

"How could you not feel angry?" said Zelena matter-of-factly, "You spent an entire year in a blissful ignorance with your son only to return to a mad, mad town full of overly self-righteous fairy tale characters who look to you to do everything for them instead of piping up their own courage and helping themselves." Emma looked up into Zelena's icy eyes, the witch just said all the words she had been too afraid to say out loud, even to herself. As harsh as they may seem, Emma knew them to be true. "This last year awarded you with the beautiful and rare ability to choose for yourself, to be your own person, to own your identity as just another normal- anonymous individual. And now, you don't only have to answer to the townspeople, you also have to answer to a suddenly all-angelic former Evil Queen."

Emma remained silent, but her eyes remained fixed on the witch. How could she read her so easily? Zelena somehow knows all of her hesitations, her guilt, her pain… she understands. Feeling a little overwhelmed by her transparency, Emma stood and went to her office, a couple hours later David arrived to relieve her- and she couldn't have been more grateful.

Her head hit her pillow, she expected the familiar wave of conflicting memories- but they didn't come. Instead they were replaced with Zelena's words- she found them oddly calming. She and the Wicked Witch of the West do have a lot in common. Nobody had seen her the way Zelena has seen her. Nobody has understood her the way Zelena understands her. She wanted to talk to her more and as she spun these thoughts around in her head, she soon found herself drifting off to the most peaceful sleep she'd had since her return to Storybrooke.