Author Notes:

This is my very first fic for this fandom and if I'm honest, the only story that I've been excited to tell for quite sometime…

Many thanks to SS-Swanqueen for her beta on this fic – as a newbie to the fandom, I really appreciate the help!

Disclaimer:I do not own anything used from the Once Upon a Time universe and I will not be financially benefitting from this story in any way. I promise to put all of the characters back nicely when I'm done playing with them.

The Setting:

Set at the end of Season 5 *spoilers contained if you're not there yet!*

Everything happened up until the end of Robin's funeral, but instead of Hook returning from the dead - Emma left the Graveyard with Snow and headed to the wake. No actual Robin or Captain Guy-liner in this fic I'm afraid...the odd flashback maybe...but that's your lot.

There will be some Outlaw/Queen and Captain/Swan thoughts and feels contained within – but this will ultimately be a Swan/Queen fic.

If any of those ships actually offend you – then maybe this one isn't for you.

As with most of my work, this story will be very dark in places, (hopefully funny in others) and it will be triggery – abortion, miscarriage are suicide are all discussed.

Cheery right?

You have been warned...

Okie dokie...if I haven't scared you off, let's get this show on the road.

The title of this story I took from 'Drag the Waters' – by Pantera.

'In everyday life, there is more than meets the eye. To reach the depths of truth, we must Drag the Waters.' - Dimebag Darrell

Drag the Waters

Chapter 1

The breeze picked up as they turned a corner on to Main Street - the wind carrying with it ice-cold droplets of rain that somehow evaded Snow's large umbrella. The teacher gasped and gripped the handle with both hands – trying to shelter them from the worst of it, but her daughter didn't seem to care.

Emma continued her journey along Main Street, seemingly unaffected by the downpour - ignoring the calls of her mother behind her. She kept walking until she stood outside their destination – Granny's Diner – where Robin's wake was under-way. Emma watched them all through the window; her friends, her family – the mourners – all gathered to pay their respects to a hero.

To a man who would still be here, if it wasn't for me.

"Emma," Snow said breathlessly, interrupting her thoughts – placing a leather-gloved hand affectionately on her daughter's arm. "What on earth; you're soaking wet!"

"I don't care about that." The blonde muttered and kept her gaze on the window, on the back of Regina's head - where the brunette sat in a booth opposite her sister.

"Emma," Snow fussed – moving to wrap an arm around her daughter. "You're going to catch a cold..."

"I don't care!" Emma yelled, shrugging out of the embrace and fixing her mother with a glare - before turning her attention back to the diner and the woman whose world she had just crushed. Again. "None of that matters now."

Snow followed her daughter's gaze, and she sighed – a wistful smile touching her lips. "Robin's death wasn't your fault -"

"Like hell it wasn't..."

"Emma," Snow protested, "Regina doesn't blame you. You've lost someone too... We should go inside where you can support each other - like a family."

"You don't get it." Emma turned now to look at her mother, her expression pained, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I got to say goodbye to Killian, and I miss him," her voice cracked then, the tears falling onto her cheeks. "God, I miss him..." she looked to the sky, fighting back her emotions, cool rain water washing away her tears. "But I have a sense of peace, knowing that he's moved on to a better place..." Emma straightened then and wiped at her cheeks. She looked back through the glass and this time, her eyes met the mayor's though the rain patterned pane. "Regina will never have that."

"Emma-" Snow began cautiously.

"I can't go in there," the blonde stated, simply – her eyes never leaving Regina's. "I'm sorry."

A cloud of white smoke appeared, taking Emma with it – and leaving Snow standing alone in the street.


5 weeks later

Emma climbed the stairs to the Loft and took a deep cleansing breath before knocking on the door. Snow and David were trying, she knew that - and she understood their need to 'parent' – but if Emma had to hear one more speech about the stages of grief, or the suggestion that she speak to Archie – the big vein in the middle of her forehead might just pop.

Her family (and Archie, apparently) thought that her spending all of her time in the big-old house bought for her and Hook was unhealthy; that it was somehow stalling the bereavement process. But the truth was, it was actually helping. Killian chose that house for them, he had circled it in the newspaper – Emma loved that house and everything it stood for. Why would she want to move out?

Emma Swan was comfortable in her own company – she didn't need a horde of overbearing Charming's around her to move through the 5 stages of grief (or were there 7, she wasn't really listening). She had this.

The new house would be a family home for her, and for Henry when it wasn't Regina's week to have him.

The blonde felt a pang of guilt in her gut; here she was, mentally preparing herself to attend dinner with her loving, supporting family - when she had no idea if Regina had any support at all.

She still hadn't really spoken to the brunette since the funeral. To be fair, Regina hadn't actively sought her out either, but now that Emma had started to come to terms with her loss, the guilt at not being there for her friend was gnawing away at her.

She should have faced Regina that night at the wake, she should have taken the onslaught of abuse and fireballs – everything she deserved – and offered to be there for her. That's what the saviour should have done – but when was the last time I actually saved anybody?

Instead she was cowardly – and now she had no idea how to broach the subject. 5 weeks was a long time….

As she finally knocked on the door, she absently wondered what stage of grief Regina might be at…

"Emma," Snow smiled as she opened the door and pulled her daughter into a hug. "You don't have to knock – this is still your home."

"Thanks, Mom." She shuffled in and hung her hat and coat up on the hooks by the door; the smell of home-cooked food making her belly growl in response.

"Hey," David said as he moved to give her a kiss on the cheek in greeting. "How's my favourite Daughter?"

"I don't know," Emma joked, weakly. "You'd have to ask her," she looked around for her son. "Where's Henry, did he come by after school?"

"Don't worry, he's fine," Snow rubbed her daughter's arm affectionately as she passed by her to tend to a pan on the stove. "He started his homework, then said he needed something from Regina's to finish it; he should be back any minute."

A sense of dread settled in Emma's stomach; dinner tonight had been Henry's idea – and now he had gone to Regina's? The kid was up to something.

"You know he's gone to get Regina to come to dinner, right?" Emma stalked forward, standing by the kitchen island; panic evident in her tone. "That the 'I need something for my homework' was just a ruse."

"Well," David shrugged while setting the cutlery out on the table. "That's why you're sheriff and I'm deputy." He looked to his wife, "shall I set another place, just in case he can convince her?"

"Well, there's enough food." Snow muttered into the pan, before turning to face Emma, a hopeful smile on her face. "She is family, after all."

"Oh my God!" Emma said accusatory, her eyebrows retreating to her hairline. "You were in on this!"

"Emma, you've got to face her eventually." Snow reasoned. David came to stand next to his wife in a show of solidarity, that only worked to rile Emma more.

"I can't believe this," Emma pushed a hand through her hair. "I came here for a nice dinner – and walked straight into a God damned intervention."

"We're not ganging up on you, Emma." David interjected. "You and Regina are going through some stuff and Archie said it would be good for you both if you just..."

"Stop talking to that Cricket about my life!" Emma yelled, just as the door to the apartment flew open. Emma turned swiftly, her heart in her throat - to see her son hanging off the door handle for support; gasping for air.

"Henry, what is it? What's wrong?" Emma rushed to his side; her irritation at her parents swallowed whole by the overwhelming concern for her son.

"It's Mom," the young man swallowed hard – his face red and sweaty; Emma surmised that he must have run the whole way back. "Something's wrong! I couldn't get in the house and I know that she's home, her car is in the drive but I forgot my cellphone and-"

"Henry, slow down." Snow appeared at Emma's side – always the voice of reason. "Why couldn't you get in the house?"

"Protection spell." The teenager explained as he released the door handle and straightened up. "It knocked me back – the flash was purple - it's one of hers...Ma, you've got to help her!"

Emma and Snow shared a worried glance; Regina would never lock Henry out of his own house – not for any good reason anyway. Before they could respond, Henry voiced their concerns as he took a step back through the open door and into the hallway.

"Please," he begged, "I'm scared Mom might hurt herself."


Thanks for reading - it'd be nice to read your thoughts :). Chapter 2 will be up soon...