Regina was gone again. Left her alone again, to deal with…whatever it was that had happened to her. All alone. Again.
Resentment, acid-sharp, burned as it ate into the place where only understanding and affection used to dwell. Disappointment, lye-bitter, stung as it seeped into where faith and trust had been.
She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Regina is a mother, and that always came first. It was stupid to hope otherwise. Stupid and selfish. Who was she to ask a mother to choose her—friend?—(whom she slept with a whole lot) over her own son? Even if he wasn’t real, how could she expect Regina to pass up a chance to make it so?
Regina had left her behind, and the demon baby almost got her. Regina let that thing almost get into her.
In its soft baby voice, it spoke of every every time Regina treated her as though she didn’t matter. In gentle, feathery whispers, it reminded her of how there was nothing special about her and that she was common as dirt. With deceptive sweetness, it told Kiki that she was at best a diversion for when Regina was bored or lonely or horny. At worst, she would just be in the way. Who was she to even hope that Regina could return her affections? Even if Henry weren’t her son, who would choose her over him?
"All this time, you were just something for her to play with. She doesn’t care about you. You don’t matter to her. You’re just a way for her to pass the time until she gets what she really wants. How does that make you feel, Kiki? Doesn’t it make you angry? Does it make you hate her just a bit?"
For a moment, just one moment, she did.
Forgot I wrote this one.