Work Text:
“Congratulations. You just reunited mother and son. Maybe one day they’ll even invite you for dinner.”
~
‘Are you sure about this, kid?’ Emma asks, trailing behind Henry as he marches determinedly down the sidewalk.
‘Definitely!’ He clutches the two takeout containers protectively against his chest. One is round and full of vegetable soup (‘Soup has to be in a round container, otherwise it’s just weird!’), the other has a slice of chocolate cake. They were Henry’s picks. ‘Mom looked really shaky after fixing the massive horrible death curse Mr. Gold did. She probably won’t feel like cooking, and this will cheer her up.’
Emma shakes her head with a wry smile. She has to admire her son, and now knowing who her birth parents are, she can see where he gets the plucky optimism from. Because it definitely wasn’t her or Neal, and she highly doubts it was something Henry picked up from Regina.
Her smile fades at the thought of the other woman. And Regina is “the other woman.” Although usually that would be about some sort of partner cheating scandal - but in this case she’s “the other mother”. But that sounds like the freaky button mom out of that creepy kids movie Henry loves. And hopefully Regina’s not interested in kidnapping Henry to another dimension. Emma hates that this is actually something she might have to be concerned about. When did her life get so complicated?
‘Come on, Mom!’
Ah. Right about the moment Emma made a wish and a knock on her door made it come true.
Henry loves Regina. She’s his mom. She’s really fucked up in the last couple of years, making Henry feel crazy about something she knew was true, and it was her attempted-freaking-murder of Emma with that damned apple turnover that nearly cost him his life- would have cost them all everything if not for Emma’s true love’s kiss. And there’s the whole curse thing and Evil Queen thing and also generally being a corrupt mayor and a massive pain in the ass-
Emma thinks it’s fair to say she has a lot of reasons to hate Regina. Probably also to lock her up if Emma still has any legal jurisdiction as sheriff in a magical town.
But… Emma knows when people are lying. Since knowing Henry and Regina, that ability has been confusing her, but with the knowledge of the curse a lot of those apparent truths or bizarre lies now make sense.
So she knows that Henry loves Regina. That he has faith in her, faith that she’s changing. But that he’s still wary of her.
She also knows that Regina loves Henry. Her reaction to his death, her sacrifice today, their hug in Gold’s store - Emma can see it. The whole reason she stayed in Storybrooke in the first place - the fear that the baby she’d given up was now unloved - had been absolved. Now there’s just fear about a million other things.
Emma doesn’t trust Regina. Not as a person, not quite as a parent. Regina did just try to kill her a couple of weeks ago. But today Regina risked her own life to save Emma and Mary Margaret - two people Regina’s life would be easier without. Regina didn’t do that for either of them, she did it for Henry. To keep him safe and happy and for him to have more love in his life. And that’s a big thing for Emma. It’s not at all how the law works, but to Emma the “sacrificing herself to save their lives” kind of evens out the “attempted murder” from before.
And then there’s everything else she’s learnt.
Sitting by a campfire in the middle of the enchanted forest, knowing the classic story of the Evil Queen poisoned Snow White, but hearing Mary Margaret explain the story of how the Evil Queen came to be. A tale of spilled secrets and good intentions, of a king wanting a new wife and a kind stable boy, of cruel mothers and an elopement that ended in murder. Emma can see two villains in the story, and neither of them are Mary Margaret, who was just a manipulated little kid. No, there’s Cora, greedy and selfish and completely fucking unhinged. And then there’s Leopold, Mary Margaret’s father, Emma’s grandfather. The creepy old king who forced an eighteen-year-old to be his bride and play house in the shadow of his late wife.
Mary Margaret fills Emma in on a lot of stories while they try to find their way home, some big events and battles, some smaller things from her time growing up. She always speaks of Leopold with fondness, about what a wonderful father he was, how devastated she was when he died, and betrayed when she found out it was Regina’s doing. There’s a lot, like a ridiculously long list, of things Regina has done that are appalling. But killing her almost certainly abusive husband and being free of that controlling marriage? Is not on that list for Emma. Whether he was her grandfather or not.
And after meeting Cora, having that for a mother explains a hell of a lot about Regina.
There was also what Emma learnt tonight. Sitting around the table in Granny’s diner, stuffing their faces with real food, listening to David recount how Regina gave up Henry willingly, how she’s been trying to help, trying not to use magic. Henry dramatically explaining Regina’s “super brave and scary but also really cool” take down of the death curse to save Emma and Mary Margaret.
Regina’s honestly really fucking complicated, and Emma’s feelings about her are just as confusing.
It’s already dark by the time they get to Mifflin Street. Emma doesn’t use the word “looming” very often, but Regina’s stupidly large manor house definitely looms.
Emma shoves her hands in her pockets to stop her from grabbing onto Henry, who’s happily opening the gate and running up the front stairs. He rings the doorbell, but there’s no answer. He tries the doorbell again, tries knocking on the door, goes to try yelling ‘Mom!’ but cuts himself off after ‘M-’ with a conflicted look at Emma and changes to calling, ‘It’s me, Henry!’ Still no response.
Glancing in the front windows, it doesn’t look like any of the lights are on. Regina’s car is in the driveway, but maybe she went for a walk. Or a drink (Emma would kill for a drink, but she’s trying to be responsible). ‘Sorry, Henry, I don’t think she’s home.’
Henry sighs, like this has really affected his day. He balances the takeaway containers in one hand and pulls a key out of his pocket.
‘Wait, kid-’
But Henry’s already unlocked the door and is scampering inside up the steps. Emma hesitates for a moment in the doorway before marching in after him. Last time she was in this place Regina gave her a poisoned dessert. She knows Henry’s been in here since (which is not a great feeling), but like hell is Emma letting him be in there without her.
He’s flicked on the lights for the main hall before running into the kitchen to put the takeout containers on the counter. Emma hovers nearby, eyes flicking around waiting for Regina to suddenly appear. Potentially literally. But the house is silent as Henry writes a quick post-it note to explain the food.
‘Can I grab some comics before we go?’ He asks, and Emma, feeling less nervous about an empty house, decides to back off the helicopter-parent-vibe and let her son go up to his room by himself. A decision she almost immediately regrets when Henry screams from the upstairs landing.
‘MOM!’
Emma’s up the stairs so fast she might have teleported, terrified of what she’ll find - Henry dying again, Regina actually kidnapping Henry to another dimension, Cora somehow here and shoving her hand through Henry’s chest - but what she finds makes her freeze. Henry’s on his knees, screaming and crying and frantically shaking the body lying on the floor.
Regina’s body.
She’s slumped down the wall, paler then Emma’s ever seen her, black ooze trickling from her mouth.
‘Mom! Mom! Wake up, please! I’m sorry, please don’t die Mom!’ Henry pleads, and Emma rushes beside him. She places two fingers against Regina’s neck, an unexpected gasp of relief passing through her when she feels a faint, uneven pulse fluttering there.
‘Henry, she’s alive.’ Emma says, and his panicked wailing subsides as he looks up at Emma. His face is tear-streaked and desperate, and she needs to get him out of here. She takes his small hands in hers. ‘Hey, I need you to do something for me, okay? I need you to go downstairs and get the landline.’
‘What?’
‘We’re gonna call 911 and get her help, okay?’ Emma says reassuringly. It’s not at all how she feels, but it’s what Henry needs to hear. It’s a good excuse to get him away from this, and her mobile was smashed to pieces in the portal anyway. She was planning to get a new one tomorrow, she wasn’t expecting a crisis this soon. She should have known by now with this town.
The second Henry’s out of view, Emma turns back to Regina. She’s not a paramedic, but she does have a fair amount of first aid training. She checks Regina’s airway and breathing - clear and faint, so that means no CPR, thank god. There’s no blood anywhere, and when she lifts up Regina’s eyelids they’re glassy. The black ooze isn’t anything she recognises, so that means this is probably magical. Fantastic. The paramedic’s probably won’t be able to help with that, and going to Gold for help will be an absolute last ditch effort. There’s something she can at least try before then.
Emma has magic. She knows this. She doesn’t like this.
She felt it flow through her after giving Henry a kiss that turned out to be a magical-true-love-kiss. It was terrifying, feeling it inside her. But it wasn’t something forced in there, it was like something that was being woken up. Only she had a few other priorities - Henry, having parents, a rampaging mob, etc. She’d felt it again when the wraith attacked. When Regina’s magic wasn’t working and Emma reached out to touch her arm and a spark had jolted through them. An energy she didn’t understand flowing through her, Regina’s magic working and the portal opening before them. And she’d felt it when Cora plunged her hand into Emma’s chest. The other woman’s hand was around her fucking heart and the only reason she still had it now was some sort of magical barrier formed from her own willpower that pushed Cora back.
So Emma has magic. She just has no fucking clue what to do about it.
But she can’t let Regina die. She can’t let that happen to Henry. He’s been through so much, and he was just sobbing and calling Regina mom and-
No. Emma won’t let her die.
She reaches out, awkward and hesitant, and places her hand on Regina’s shoulder again. Nothing. Okay, maybe it needs to be more intentional. Emma closes her eyes, taking a breath, focusing on how it felt when the magic had gone through her, like energy and warmth in her veins. She touches Regina’s shoulder again. Nothing. She touches Regina’s cheek. Nothing. She puts her hand over Regina’s heart. Nothing.
Why wasn’t it working? Why did Regina have to make everything so damn hard?
‘Come on, wake up.’ Emma mutters, two hands on Regina’s shoulders now, and giving her a shake as well. ‘You’re not doing this. You’re not hurting Henry again, I need you to wake the fuck up.’ She can hear Henry on the phone downstairs, she’s running out of time. Bracing herself, Emma presses her lips to Regina’s forehead, like she did with Henry. Nothing! Hail Mary time then. Wiping the disgusting black ooze away with her sleeve, Emma presses her lips against Regina’s (her lipstick is somehow still perfect looking, even after all this). And the kiss does absolutely nothing! Regina’s still lying there like sleeping fucking beauty.
Emma’s anger is building inside her, a buzzing, electrical feeling as her nails grip at Regina’s arms. Henry’s on the stairs now. And he will not see Regina wheeled out of here on a stretcher or in a body bag. If she doesn’t wake up Emma’s going to kill her. ‘Wake up, Regina! Fucking wake up!’ Emma’s resolve snaps and she slaps Regina across the face.
And, somehow, that works.
Emma feels the magic spark from her palm, fire in her veins, and Regina gasps awake.
The other woman sits up, coughing, sounding like she’s dying of tuberculosis, before she turns to the side and vomits up even more disgusting black ooze.
‘Mom!?’ Henry calls.
‘Henry, stay where you are!’ Emma shouts back.
Regina gags, slumping back against the wall. Her hand comes up to dazedly wipe at her mouth, the now less-than-perfect lipstick smeared across her cheek and hand. She’s blinking slowly, but when she looks over her eyes seem to clear a little. ‘Emma?’ She murmurs, confused.
Not “Ms Swan”, not “Sheriff”, not “You” but Emma. Of all the things that have happened today, attempted-heart-stealing and portal-jumping included, this might be the thing that’s thrown Emma off the most. She presses her lips together, desperately hoping none of that lipstick is showing on her own mouth.
Emma can still feel the fire in her chest, nerves alight, but she’s not able to manage a response. They sit in silence in the hallway, staring at each other, until a panicked voice breaks them out of it.
‘Mom?’
‘Henry?’ Both Emma and Regina respond at the same time. Regina blinks, looking around in shock that she’s in her house, on the floor, and that Emma is here. Emma herself feels like she’s been released from some kind of spell the second those piercing brown eyes are off her.
‘Henry! Yes, you can come up!’ Emma calls, and instantly his feet start running up the remaining stairs.
‘What- Henry’s here? What’s hap-’ Regina starts, but is cut off with a grunt when Henry barrels into her at full speed, the landline phone crashing to the floor.
‘Mom! You’re alive!’ His arms go around Regina in a vice grip, her eyes wide even as her hands hold him back automatically.
‘Yes?’
‘Take it easy, Henry. She just threw up.’ Emma says weakly, adrenaline starting to wear off and leaving a bone-weary tiredness behind.
Henry leans back with a look of disgust only to notice the puddle of black liquid. ‘Oh my god, are you dying!?’
‘No.’ Regina says firmly, sounding slightly stronger than before. Although she grimaces as she sits up.
‘What happened? What’s wrong with you?’
‘I was feeling faint, and went to lie down… It’s just the after effects of the curse, Henry. It’ll pass soon.’
She’s not lying, but Emma’s still hesitant. ‘Henry, when are the paramedics getting here?’
‘Paramedics?’ Regina asks, panic in her eyes for the first time since she woke up.
‘Yeah, I called 911!’ Henry says proudly. ‘They’re gonna be ten minutes. I’m still on the phone to… oh. Whoops.’ The phone fell in pieces when it collided with the floor. Emma clicks them back together, pushes the batteries back in place and holds it to her ear, but it’s hung up. ‘We can call them back.’
Henry is confident, but Emma is watching Regina, and the other woman’s indifferent and insufferable mask is slipping.
‘Henry, why don’t you go get her some water? I always feel better after a drink when I’ve been sick.’ Emma says, and Henry nods determinedly, giving Regina a glowing smile that she weakly responds back to. Once Henry’s gone, Emma turns to Regina. ‘What is it? Are you dying?’
‘No. Sorry to disappoint.’ Regina mutters, and Emma gives her a scathing look that Regina wilts under. ‘...My magic, it’s-’ Regina holds up a hand, weakly trying to summon something but there’s only a brief, pale flash of light before it splutters out. ‘It needs time to revive. Destroying that curse took everything I had. If word gets out in this town that I’m weak, that mob will be back on my doorstep as fast as they can grab their pitchforks.’ Regina won’t look at her, this admission seeming to pain her.
Emma frowns, tapping on her legs as she thinks it through. ‘If we call them off now it’ll seem suspicious.’
‘Well what do you suggest, Ms Swan?’ Madame Mayor asks, as though this is all her fault, and Emma’s eyes narrow.
Regina’s spared from a response by Henry reappearing with a gigantic glass of water. Her irritation melts away in a soft smile as she gratefully takes the drink, and Henry settles in beside her, still watching Regina intently.
Emma sighs. She made Henry a promise, to keep Regina safe. At least she has more experience with scheming then with taking on wraiths. Still, she doesn’t want Henry to worry about a mob coming after his mom. Again.
‘Okay. I’ve got an idea. Henry, we’re gonna need a new code name. Something sneaky.’
Henry and Regina’s eyes turn to her, surprised. Henry thinks for a long moment, before decisively saying, ‘Operation Jaguar. They use their coats to camouflage into their surroundings.’
‘Great. So, Operation Jaguar. We need the paramedics to look over Regina-’ When Regina tries to interrupt, Emma holds up a hand. ‘Because you were passed out on the floor, okay, it’s better they check you over. But Henry, I don’t think she really wants anyone seeing her…’ Vulnerable? Defenceless? ‘Run down. So we’re gonna move her, and tweak our story a little. Okay?’
They’re still looking at her - Henry curious, Regina conflicted. She looks like she could kill Emma for saying she was “run down” and awkwardly grateful at the same time. But they both nod.
They help Regina to stand. She tries to brush them off, smoothing down her clothes, but as soon as she goes to take a step her eyes go glassy and she starts to crumple. Emma grabs her to keep her upright, and feels vindicated in still wanting the paramedics to check her over. They try to walk, Regina’s arm around Emma’s shoulders and Emma supporting her at the waist like when Emma pulled her out of the burning town hall, but Regina’s complaining so much - ‘Your grip’s too tight! You’re going too fast!’ - that by the time they reach the stairs Emma’s half-ready to throw her down them.
‘Would you shut up!’ Emma snaps, leaning down and putting her other arm underneath Regina’s legs.
‘What are you-’ Regina starts, cutting herself off with a gasp when Emma picks her up bridal style. Emma readjusts her arms, making sure she’s holding Regina securely, and Regina silently puts her other arm around Emma as well, her hands clutched together behind Emma’s neck. It's a strangely intimate spot for them to be, but Emma shrugs the feeling off. Regina is suspiciously quiet all the way downstairs and into the living room, not even commenting when Emma drops her down onto the sofa with less care then she could’ve shown.
There’s an awkward moment between them, neither of them looking at each other.
‘We should fix your face, Mom.’ Henry says, coming into the room behind them and none the wiser.
Regina’s hand flies up to her face. ‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘You’ve got…’ Henry vaguely gestures around his own mouth, and Regina flushes.
‘I’ll get you a makeup wipe.’ Emma offers, eager to get some space.
‘They’re in my bathroom.’ Regina says softly, and Emma resigns herself. Great. Space… in Regina’s room. But Emma hurries back upstairs, avoids the black puddle still in the hallway, and tries the different doors before finding the master suite. It’s not what Emma was expecting. Regina’s office at town hall is all black and white and dramatic, but her bedroom has the same warmth and over-neatness found throughout the rest of the house. A lot of cream and beige, sort of like some classic country manor instead of an evil queen’s residence. Emma hurries into the ensuite, opening the mirror cabinet and pulling out some makeup wipes. Downstairs, Henry has retrieved Regina’s handbag, where she’s pulled out a compact mirror and a lipstick. Of course she wouldn’t want anyone to see her without a full face of makeup, not even EMTs. Regina takes Emma’s offered items without a word, and Emma pulls Henry aside to give Regina a minute.
‘What did you say to the paramedics?’
‘That she was on the floor, and alive, but that she wouldn’t wake up.’
Emma takes this in, glancing around the room. ‘Right, here’s what we’re gonna do.’
Five minutes later, Emma is letting the paramedics in through the front door. They are surprised to see her, but she just nods at them like everything’s normal. In the living room they find Regina, sitting on her couch like it’s a throne, legs crossed and looking remarkably put-together and unimpressed by their entrance. Henry sits beside her, holding her hand, and a fire crackles in the fireplace. The two paramedics look like they’d rather be anywhere else.
‘Um, hello, Mada- I mean, Your Maj… Ms Mills.’ One of the paramedics settles on. Emma knows him from their search for David, when he was still a lost coma patient and not Emma’s dad. ‘I’m Wen, and this is Clio. We received a call that you were found unconscious.’
‘Well I’m obviously not now.’ Regina says icily, and the paramedics hesitate in the doorway. Henry gives Regina a look and she settles slightly. ‘It’s been a rather stressful day. I came home, took a valium, and fell asleep in front of the fire. When Henry and- she,’ Regina gestures vaguely in Emma’s direction. ‘Found me, I was rather hard to rouse awake, hence the call. I will permit to be checked over, only to calm the mind of my son.’ With that, Regina holds up her hand in a “get on with it” gesture.
The two paramedics come forward, getting out their equipment. They seem unaware that they were told a tale that the three of them had worked out only minutes earlier. The EMTs check Regina’s blood pressure - higher than average (‘Unsurprising.’ Regina rolls her eyes), her oxygen levels - lower than average, but everything else from her pulse to her pupils react normally. After the checkover the paramedics give her the all clear and Regina gives them a tight smile and thanks in response before they rush out of the house as quickly as they can professionally get away with it.
Regina leans back against the couch the moment they’re out the door, and Henry hovers nervously beside her.
‘I’m alright, dear.’ She says, patting at Henry’s hand. Now that the immediate threat of exposure has passed, Regina looks calmer. She still manages to give Emma a harsh side-eye. ‘Now that that’s over, what are you doing in my house?’
‘I brought you dinner.’ Henry says, and Regina’s eyes soften as they turn to him. ‘I thought you’d be hungry after the curse-breaking. I got you soup and cake from Granny’s.’
‘Thank you Henry, that’s sweet of you.’
‘I can go get it?’
‘You know that might be just the thing I need.’ Regina says, placing her hand on his cheek in such a natural, motherly gesture that Emma wants to claw at her own skin. She’s never been a touchy person (she’s never had the opportunity), but she and Henry are close. They bump shoulders, she puts her arm around him, he hugs her and she hugs back. It’s friendly but it’s not really… familial. The kiss she gave him and the hug they had today at the well have been the most mother-son interaction they’ve had, and both times it was new and prompted by something big. Not something simple like soup. Emma crosses her arms over her chest, but still makes sure to give Henry a smile as he leaves for the kitchen.
Once Henry’s gone, all pretense seems to be put aside and Regina slumps down, breathing heavily. Emma walks over, standing near the couch but hesitant to reach out.
‘I’m fine.’ Regina grits out.
‘You look it.’
'You didn’t answer my question, what the hell are you doing here? Did they already fire you as sheriff and you picked up a job as a delivery girl?’
‘I didn’t want Henry walking around by himself at dusk.’ Emma can feel her temper rising. Why does this woman always go on the attack?
‘More like you didn’t want him alone with me. Not like he hasn’t been safe with me while you were off doing who knows what these last few weeks-’
‘God, you make it sound like I fucked off to go on a Jamaican cruise, and not like I was pulled into a portal saving your miserable life!’
‘I never asked you to do that!’
‘And I told you that next time I would save you again because that was what decent people do!’ Emma tries not to shout. This house has a disturbing lack of doors and Henry can probably hear them. Even though Regina’s being as insufferable as usual, her being pale and clutching at the arm of the couch as her body spasms is not, and makes it harder for Emma to want to rip into her. So she takes a deep breath, counting to ten. ‘What was with the black stuff you threw up?’
‘It’s an after effect-’
‘-of the curse, yeah, I got that. Is it dangerous?’
Regina shakes her head, instantly regretting it by the green look she gets. ‘I never would have let Henry stay if it was. It’s a physical response from exposure to dark magic. Kind of like bile, purging it from the body. Usually it comes out in small amounts, but I got an overload in a short amount of time, so my body’s responding in kind. It’s painful and disgusting, but should pass in the next twenty-four hours.’ Regina’s closed her eyes, head down, holding very still. Emma recognises the behaviour from mornings with a killer-hangover, so she turns off the overhead light, leaving the room in the glow of the fire and a lamp by the window. Regina’s eyes open slowly as she takes in the change, and her lips twist in distaste. ‘Thank you.’ She says stiffly.
It’s as much of an olive branch as Regina is willing to offer. Emma takes it.
‘I can get you an advil?’
‘Alright. Not sure it’ll do anything, but we didn’t have it in the Enchanted Forest, so it’s worth a try.’
‘Oh, I’m now unfortunately familiar with the general lack of healthcare in that place.’ Emma mutters, and Regina looks almost smug.
‘Cursed town doesn’t seem so bad?’
‘Don’t push it.’
Regina’s hand comes up to brush the hair back from her face, lingering against her cheek as she frowns. ‘Did you slap me?’
‘What? No!’ Emma cries, hoping she sounds convincing. ‘You must’ve hit it when you fell.’ She leaves faster than the paramedics did.
Emma finds the downstairs bathroom and locks herself inside it, taking a minute to splash water on her face and drink. Only water, though the urge for something stronger is itching at her as she tries to not remember where Regina kept that cider in her office. She finds advil in the medicine cabinet and takes some herself, tucking the bottle in her jacket pocket. Against her own wishes, she double checks her hair in the mirror before she leaves.
When she returns to the living room she finds Henry trying to feed Regina with a spoon as the other woman tries to gently let him down.
‘Henry, I’m perfectly capable of holding a spoon myself-’
‘But this is what you used to do when I was sick!’
It was sweet, Henry all earnest and Regina all flustered - her flush only growing when she notices Emma lingering in the doorway, amused, and Regina takes the spoon from a now pouting Henry. She smiles slightly after taking a sip of the soup though.
‘Pumpkin?’
‘Your favourite. There’s chocolate cake too!’ Henry says eagerly, and Regina’s face blooms into a full smile.
‘Thank you.’
Emma wordlessly passes over the bottle of aspirin, and Henry takes off to the kitchen again to get another glass of water. There’s an awkward silence. Emma crosses her arms and leans against the wall, exhausted after a ridiculous day. Regina eats her soup and meticulously ignores Emma’s presence. The silence between them continues, even after Henry gets back. He keeps up an endless stream of conversation, talking about what they’ve been doing at school, or how David’s teaching him sword fighting, or how there’s talk of a new Star Wars trilogy. Regina hums in agreement when appropriate, but Emma only manages to nod occasionally. She’s sunk into a stupidly stiff armchair and deliberates on what to do next.
This was only supposed to be a quick stop, and it’s already been a lot longer and more stressful than she anticipated. Regina’s been given a clean bill of health, but still looks under the weather, so Emma’s not sure if she should be left alone. More pressingly, Emma’s not sure if Henry will want to leave her. But there’s no way Emma’s leaving Henry here alone. In case Regina has another episode, sure, but also just with Regina. And there’s no way Emma’s spending the night here. She didn’t make it back to this dimension just to crash on the Evil Queen’s couch. But magic or no magic, Regina might raise hell if Emma tries to leave with Henry.
So Emma remains silent and distracted, tapping on the armrest as Regina finishes her soup and she and Henry split the chocolate cake (Henry offered some to Emma, but she’s already eaten too much at dinner, and they don’t need anyone else throwing up).
Once the food is finished, there’s a long pause, with Emma bracing herself for a fight. Only Regina clears her throat instead.
‘Well, I suppose you two will be going.’ Regina says stiffly.
Emma blinks, sure she’s heard wrong, but when she looks up, Regina is watching her steadily. After the food and tablets, there’s some colour back in her cheeks. Her mouth is pulled in a line, clearly unhappy, but her head tilts, almost a concession.
She’s not going to fight. Not tonight at least, not in front of Henry.
Emma feels the tension seep out of her. It must be noticeable, because Regina smirks slightly. Magic or no magic, she knows she’d be tough to beat in a fight.
‘But Mom, are- are you sure? I mean, are you feeling okay now?’ Henry asks, wringing his hands together.
Regina smiles at him, a little sad. ‘Much better, thanks to you.’ She says sincerely, before grimacing and briefly gesturing at Emma. ‘And… Miss Swan.’
‘Is there anything we can get you?’ Emma asks. She’s itching to leave now, but she also wants to make sure Regina’s alright to be left on her own.
‘No. I’m going to bed, and when I wake tomorrow I will have my strength back.’ Regina says it like a command, as though her body shouldn’t dare disappoint her.
‘Alright, but we should make sure you’re alright going back up the stairs.’
Despite being a reasonable suggestion, Regina scowls at her. When Henry happily agrees though, she sighs like she’s the one being inconvenienced. ‘Fine. As long as you don’t carry me again.’
‘As long as you quit complaining.’
‘You’re so dramatic.’ Regina says, dramatically. ‘I don’t complain. I give criticism when it’s warranted.’
‘Jesus Christ.’ Emma mutters, but she still waits by Regina’s side while the other woman stands up. She’s a little unsteady on her feet, so Emma takes her hand, supporting her up the stairs. The prolonged, skin-on-skin contact somehow feels more intimate then carrying her - by the time they reach the landing a flushed Emma snatches her hand back. Regina leans against the wall, catching her breath.
‘I turned your electric blanket on! But I don’t know what to do about the vomit.’ Henry calls down the hall.
Shit. Emma forgot about that.
Both women eye the disgusting black puddle. Regina’s ill, she shouldn’t be getting cleaning equipment and being on her hands and knees. On the other hand, Emma feels like she’s already gone above and beyond here.
‘I’ll do it tomorrow.’ An exhausted Regina says, using the wall to support herself down the hallway to her bedroom.
Emma stays where she is, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans. She hears Henry and Regina exchanging goodbyes, Henry promising to call in the morning to check on her. He ducks into his own room for a second, grabbing the comics he originally came for. Regina returns his wave goodbye, but once he’s out of sight on the stairs her smile drops, arms crossing over her chest.
Regina and Emma’s eyes catch from either end of the hallway. Regina’s looking as regal as she can while still leaning against the doorframe and looking heartbroken. Emma feels like she should say something, about feeling better tomorrow, or about how they needed to talk about all this.
‘Well, goodnight.’ Is what she says instead. Regina only nods.
Emma quickly follows Henry down the stairs. The kid is turning off lights as he goes, and when they step outside into the now dark night, he locks the door behind him.
‘You’re pretty responsible.’ Emma says. She wants to touch his cheek all motherly like Regina did, but it feels foreign to her. She settles for ruffling his hair instead, even as he groans. ‘Seriously, that was intense earlier. You handled yourself really well. I-I’m proud of you.’
Even stumbling over her words a little, Henry beams up at her, and that fills Emma up with more warmth than she knows what to do with.
‘Thanks!’
As they leave, he starts excitedly talking about his comics, about a new edition coming out next month, about how they’ll have to go to the next town over because Storybrooke never gets anything new delivered (no surprise there). Emma’s happy to listen, earlier today she thought she might never get the chance again.
She’s feeling beyond lucky when she pulls the gate closed behind them. Something in her makes her pause though, glancing over her shoulder back at the house. Regina is at the upstairs window, watching them. Her arms are crossed in a way that looks more like she’s holding herself. Her face is in shadow, but there’s no mistaking the slump in her shoulders. When she realises Emma’s seen her, Regina quickly turns away. It’s so familiar, almost like deja vu of Emma’s first night here, only that time it was with Henry. Emma hesitates, clutching at the gate and watching the light turn off in Regina’s room. It’s not guilt that she’s feeling, it’s something more wistful, which is way more terrifying.
‘Emma? Are you coming?’ Henry calls back at her, and she’s shaken out of her daze.
‘Yeah, sorry kid. Just… lost in thought.’
That night, Emma was grateful to be in a real bed and have Henry tucked into her side (he’d been sleeping in her bed while she was gone, and wanted to stay as close as possible, which absolutely did not make her tear up), but she slept fitfully. Dreams of poisoned apples, ogres, and phantom hands inside her chest made her toss and turn, and when the sun began to rise she gave up.
Henry slept soundly beside her, snoring slightly, which was adorable. He looked peaceful, and very much the innocent eleven year old he was, instead of a kid who had been through way too much and had to grow up too quickly.
Emma only wants good things for him. But so much of her life, of their lives, is ridiculous and out of her control. Today was her first real day back in this magical town, no mobs or wraiths or portals. They can start to build a life now. There were a lot of unknowns, but a lot of good things were waiting too. Emma has parents, a son, a family. For the first time ever.
She’s not going to let anything get in the way of that.
And taking all the magic and danger that she has no idea how to handle out of consideration, there’s only one major issue.
Henry is Emma’s son, and she’s his mom. But Henry is also Regina’s son, and she’s his mom, and Henry clearly still wants that. Emma had figured that after her promise, but last night confirmed it. He was devastated when he thought Regina was dying, he was eager to help her and be close to her. He wants to rebuild that relationship, and Emma wants him to be happy and to try and do what’s best for him.
You may not believe in the curse, or in me. But I believe in you.
That was the last thing Henry said to her before he fell to the floor unconscious. That could have been the last thing he said ever. Her own stubbornness, her refusal to keep an open mind, it hurt him. Emma would never not believe in him again. And Henry… he believes in Regina.
Henry, no matter what you think, no matter what anyone tells you, I do love you.
And didn’t she prove that? Yesterday? She risked her own life to bring Emma and Mary Margaret back, two people she’d tried to kill. Which doesn’t sound great, but still. It’s a big gesture. Regina and Emma may not have much in common, but they both love Henry. And if Henry believes in Regina, Emma will try to too. She’s nervous, she doesn’t want him to get hurt again, or to be let down, or for all her instincts about giving Regina a chance to be dead wrong. But after everything… maybe they can just take it slow.
Regina has to understand that, right? Emma’s not trying to take Henry away, but he needs to be safe. After all that Regina’s done, she needs to earn their trust, which can only happen with time. And then maybe they can work out some kind of custody agreement. Are there lawyers in this town besides Gold? Damn, she really needs to deal with Gold too.
With that happy thought, Emma gets up to make coffee. Should she start making breakfast for Henry? What do kids like for breakfast? Pancakes, probably, but it’s not like she should make him pancakes every morning. What kind of cereal does he like? Does he even like cereal? Maybe bacon and eggs?
The truth is, Emma really doesn’t know much about parenting. She knows she loves Henry, that she’d die for him, but the day-to-day less life-and-death stuff is not in her wheelhouse. If she and Regina are gonna share a son, they may as well work out some way of doing this that’s going to be best for Henry.
Which is why, after getting Henry safely on the school bus and making a stop at Granny’s, Emma is once again outside 108 Mifflin St.
There’s dead silence after Emma rings the doorbell. Not a great feeling. Henry called Regina this morning to check on her, so she’s not dead. But the wait is long enough that Emma starts to seriously second guess her decision to be here. But she’s here for Henry. So she makes herself stay.
When the door does finally open, Emma’s carefully rehearsed speech flies out of her head because Regina’s standing there in a fucking nightgown and a fluffy robe, and her face is bare and her hair is half-mussed up like she tried to smooth it down when the doorbell rang. She looks soft but still haughty, chin raised and expression unimpressed even as she leans on the doorframe in apparent exhaustion.
‘Miss Swan?’ She says, when Emma’s obviously been quiet for too long.
‘Oh, uh, right, I, uh-’ Emma holds out one of the takeaway coffees she’s holding. ‘I got you this.’ Regina glances down at it, frowning, and Emma can’t tell if Regina’s confused or irritated. ‘It’s not poisoned.’ That was supposed to be a joke, but it makes Regina scowl - so she was confused and now she’s irritated. Emma feels a bit like an idiot, for showing up here and for the peace offering and the joke, but she can’t take any of it back now. ‘Are you gonna take it or not?’
Regina glances between Emma and the two coffee cups, before hesitantly reaching out and taking the offered one.
‘It’s just black coffee. I didn’t know what you liked. Figured it was easier to add stuff to it then try to un-milk it.’
‘That’s quite possibly the worst way you could have said that.’ Regina says, lip curling. Emma just shrugs, preoccupied as her eyes trace the small scar above Regina’s mouth and reminds herself that it is not mysterious or badass or charming. ‘Is that all?’
That snaps Emma back. ‘What? You’re not even gonna say thanks?’
‘I didn’t ask you to get this.’
‘It’s a gesture.’
‘That I did not ask for.’
‘That’s not- God you’re fucking impossible, you know that?’
‘Oh, that feeling is very mutual.’
Emma’s hands have clenched - including the one still holding her own paper coffee cup. Hot coffee overflows and burns her hand, she jumps, hissing. ‘Fuck!’
Regina’s eyes narrow, and for a second Emma thinks the other woman’s just going to slam the door shut, but instead she holds it open, gesturing for Emma to come in, deeply unimpressed. ‘Go run your hand under cold water.’
So Emma finds herself in Regina’s kitchen. Again. This time with Regina. Awkwardness after the last time they were in here must be another mutual feeling though, because while Emma sticks her hand under the tap, Regina hovers in the entryway.
‘I’m assuming you came here for some reason other than just coffee.’
Emma doesn’t turn around. ‘I thought we should talk. About Henry.’
‘Right. That’s… probably a good idea.’
‘Yeah.’
They’re both silent. Eventually Emma can’t justify it anymore and has to turn off the tap. That pushes Regina into the kitchen, as she grabs a clean hand towel and tosses it to Emma.
‘Is your hand burnt?’
‘It’s fine.’
‘Right. So…’
‘So…’
‘We should… sit down.’
‘Yeah. Good idea.’ This is going to take all day.
There’s an unspoken agreement to stay the fuck out of the kitchen, so they end up back in Regina’s office for the first time since the night they met. Only this time they’re both holding coffee instead of cider. Although Emma wouldn’t mind the stronger stuff. Regina also apparently does take her coffee black, although she stirred in a large dollop of honey, which is weirdly endearing.
‘So, you’re going to take my son away.’ Regina says, and Emma blinks at her.
Alright, never mind it taking time, Regina’s going right for the jugular. Regina’s said that to her before, when she set Emma up in her mayor office, tricking her into hurting Henry. Then, Emma had been off balance, trying to de-escalate and reassure. They’re long past that.
‘Could you blame me?’ Emma asks, and Regina’s eyes narrow. But she doesn’t defend herself. ‘I tried to leave, and you tried to kill me. And Henry got hurt. Again. I would have every right to keep him as far away from you as possible.’ Emma’s trying to keep her voice even, but she’s angry. Regina is too, although she’s trying to contain it. It’s causing some sort of friction in the air, a sort of static electricity charging the room, magic showing the true intensity here, although Emma can’t tell if it’s her magic, Regina’s, or a combination of them both. But the last thing they need is to literally blow themselves up. ‘But that would just hurt Henry again. So no, we’re not doing this anymore. Henry loves us both, Henry wants both of us in his life, so we have to be the adults and fucking get over ourselves.’
The buzz of magic fades slightly, although it’s still hanging in the air. Regina possibly having her magic back is not a comforting thought. Emma reminds herself to breathe, sipping at her coffee. Regina’s not as pale as she was last night, but there are dark circles under her eyes. She’s watching Emma with a calculating sort of look, before she sighs, leaning back into her seat.
‘What do you suggest?’ Regina finally says, and the magical tension finally settles.
‘That we just… take things slow. Build up trust. If we both have his best interest in mind, maybe we can make this work.’
Regina’s not looking at her now, fingertip nervously tracing the lid of her coffee cup over and over again. ‘But Henry’s living with you?’
Emma shrugs. ‘That’s what he wants. At least for now. But it’s not like it’s forever we’ll just… go at his pace.’
‘...Alright.’ Regina concedes, blinking rapidly. Emma pretends not to notice, for Regina’s sake. ‘I- I want to earn back his trust.’ She’s telling the truth, and Emma finally relaxes. As much as she can in Regina’s presence at least.
‘Good. That’s good.’ Emma says softly. ‘Uh, how are you feeling? After yesterday?’
‘Like dark magic is still purging from my veins.’
‘Yeah, but see, I have no clue what that feels like.’ Emma can’t help but smart, and Regina rolls her eyes. But it feels less aggravated and more exasperated.
‘As though I got hit by a truck full of slow-release-acid, and also woke up with the world’s worst hangover.’ Regina says dryly.
‘Ah. Well that sounds really terrible. Uh, thanks.’ Emma mutters, and Regina softens slightly.
‘As long as Henry’s alright.’
And isn’t that the kicker? Regina’s making these efforts for Henry, and Emma can too. David was excited about the welcome home party being planned for tonight, and before the bus had arrived Henry had made a wistful sort of comment about how it was a shame Regina couldn’t be there with everyone else he loved.
‘Are you- do you think- would you be better by tonight?’
‘Like I said, it’s usually a twenty-four hour period, so yes. Although I’ll be quite tired.’
Emma starts pulling at a thread on her sleeve. ‘There’s a party tonight. At Granny’s. A welcome home thing for Mary Margaret and me.’
‘Okay?’
‘You should come.’ Emma makes sure to look Regina in the eye, for her to know Emma’s serious. Regina looks thunderstruck, eerily similar to how she’d been when she found out Emma was Henry’s birth mother. There’s a stretch of awkward silence, but Emma makes sure to stay quiet, to let Regina have time to sit with it.
‘Are you sure?’ She asks eventually.
‘Fresh starts, right?’ Emma says, trying to sound lighter than she feels. ‘Henry will be there.’
Regina nods slowly. ‘Okay. I’ll… see how I feel.’
It’s open-ended enough to give them options, and Emma gives her a small smile. ‘Great. Well, I should- get out of your hair. Let you rest.’
‘Of course.’
Emma stands, ready to let herself out, but when she reaches the office door Regina’s voice stops her.
‘If I do come, should I- is there anything I should bring?’
‘Maybe a peace offering.’ Emma suggests, and Regina raises an eyebrow. ‘Just a thought. Feel better, Madame Mayor.’
‘Goodbye, Miss Swan.’
Once Emma is out of the house, she lets out a long breath, letting the sunlight soak into her skin. She’s not sure if Regina will make an appearance. Maybe it would be better if she didn’t. But this is the world they’re living in now, and for Henry’s sake, Emma’s willing to try to make it work. And it seems, hopefully, that Regina’s on the same page. It’s not like they’ll ever be friends, but maybe they can be amicable. Maybe even co-parents. Emma can only hope, right?