Title: This is How It Ends
Author: In-Betweens
Disclaimer: I do not own nor will I ever own any of the characters in Once Upon a Time. I am simply borrowing them for a bit of a different ride. I am not making any profit from this. I promise.
Author's Note: Apparently I'm evil and this story proves how evil I am. Swan Queen in a very different way.
Author's Note 2: For those of you waiting on an update for A Bounty for a Witch's Heart, by the end of the week there will be one up for that story as well. With everything squared away and the summer here I will now, hopefully with the grace of TPTB, have time to finish that story and this one within the next few weeks. :-D Until then, I hope you'll enjoy the ride.
Plot: Swan Queen. AU. Emma Swan opens the door on her 28th birthday to find not a young boy at her door but his very desperate, beautiful, and infuriating mother. Regina needs Emma. Will Emma help her in her greatest time of need or simply send her on her way?
Chapter 1
Now or never, Regina, now or never.
There was a very good reason why she was doing this, she told herself over and over again as she stood in front of a nondescript apartment building. The car she'd driven here was parked around the corner where she had been sitting, waiting, and watching for her prey to return home. She did not like to think about why the woman she was stalking would be coming home so late and dressed as she was.
Surely the bottom half of that red cocktail dress had simply been misplaced, it did not come off the rack that short? Did it? Regina would forgo thinking about what the blonde was doing wearing such an outfit on a weeknight. Maybe she was a little jealous that there were people who could still enjoy themselves into the wee hours of the morning on a weekday—a school night. It would not do to think about the philandering's of this woman when there were much more important matters to attend to. Such as walking into the very same apartment building she had been surveying all evening.
It was unacceptable to be so nervous. She was not some common woman. She was not told no lightly, and in this matter failure was not an option. She would leave this wretched city with what she wanted, no. She would leave with what she needed. It was simply a fateful misfortune that what she needed happened to be something only the woman inside this apartment building could give her.
Looking up the twenty story building she felt a touch of rain upon her cheek. Her lips pursed into a thin line as she looked at the waiting doors in front of her. She would not stand out here in the rain contemplating failure. She was Regina Mills for god's sake! She did not do failure or fear.
Fear was for the weak and no one would ever describe her as weak. No one. Except, maybe, herself. In this moment, as she stared at the glass doors of the modern Bostonian architecture, her vision blurred, her heart raced, and she was scared.
Scared enough to look around her to make sure no one saw her wipe away her tears. It had been years since she had allowed herself to cry, five to be exact. Five years, almost to the day, she had shed her last tear. When in a position such as hers you could not afford to shed tears. You needed to be strong and resolute. You needed to be constant and supportive and brave. You could not be scared or helpless or tearful. You had to be the adult. You had to put others in front of yourself and never look back.
She wouldn't look back. Not even now. There was a simple way to forgo the humiliation she was about to endure. It was so easy in fact, she almost considered it. All she had to do was turn on her high heels and walk back to her car. Turn the ignition, check her rearview mirror and pull out into traffic, only looking back to ensure her safety while driving. There would be no other reason to look back. She could face failure head on, it did not need to slink in behind her like a coward. There in lie the problem.
She couldn't do it.
The shame of it, the cowardice of taking off would forever eat away at her. She was here for a reason, she had a purpose here, and she would fulfill that purpose even if it meant she had to degrade herself in the process. The means would be worth the end result. It had to be worth it in the end. This trip would and could not be worthless. It would be fruitful. It had to be.
It was now or never.
The sky above Regina began to rumble as the storm that had been approaching all day finally arrived. How poetic it was for the sheer cut of lightening sparking across the dark ominous sky be the backdrop in which she finally succumbed to what needed to be done.
Looking at the call buttons with the names of residents, found the name she was looking for, squared her shoulders and crossed the open lobby to the elevator. The elevator thankfully was in working order and it only reeked of stale air, aftershave, and a touch of a sweet floral scent. Pressing her thumb to the round 8 she watched the edges light up in acknowledgement of her destination. Stepping to the back wall of the metal lift she waited patiently for the doors to close, thankful when no one stepped into lift with her. Whatever doubts or fears that had plagued her since her arrival here in Boston washed away. They had no place here anymore.
Steeling herself against whatever was to come; Regina promised that she would not be leaving this building alone.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Emma smiled lazily at the cupcake in front of her. The flame on the single candle flickered in front of her, weaving and waving about as she leaned down against the countertop. With her arms crossed in front of her as she leaned down the flame's reflection glittered in her eyes. She pursed her lips as if to whistle and blew. The candle did not extinguish, rather it flickered and continued to burn brightly.
Huh…Emma thought with a snide smirk, maybe her wish for world peace was too much for the poor candle. Laughing at her thoughts, at least to herself, she pulled in a breath of air, the flame bending towards her for a moment, and readied a new wish. With it in mind she…
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
…sputtered a bit at the unannounced visitor knocking on her door and looked at the candle as if the wax star burning brightly in front of her held all the answers. Like, who was at her door at eleven pm? The candle didn't give her an answer so, that only left one last way to find out. She sighed and the flame burned out in a puff of smoke. Shrugging, she swiped some of the icing off of the cupcake and walked to the door. With her finger firmly in her mouth licking and sucking it clean of the frosty goodness she opened the door.
The sight of a well-dressed woman in what Emma could only describe as killer business attire stood before her in the hallway. Popping her finger from her mouth Emma swallowed, giving the brunette a once over. The black pinstripe slacks and grey 'prada designer someone or other' blouse stood out against the deep red lining of her black trench coat. The shoes though, they really caught Emma's attention. They were black close toed four inch heels, any further design of the shoes were lost behind her pants. But honestly Emma was tempted to ask where the woman had purchased them. Then again, by the mere look of them they cost more than she made in a month.
"Miss Swan?" The woman's tone was hollow, as if already bored.
Geeze, she only just got here, Emma's inner viper snipped.
Emma narrowed her eyes, "Whose asking?"
"Is Ms. Emma Swan available?" The woman asked again, her resigned look making it clear that she wasn't going to be an easy shoo away. Emma didn't like her already but Emma didn't like a lot of people so that wasn't very surprising.
"Look, whatever you're selling, it's probably too expensive for me anyway, so…" Emma nodded her head in farewell, and pushed her palm against the edge of the door closing it in the woman's face.
Rather, she tried to close it in the woman's face.
A gloved hand shot out and kept the door from closing. As if to further the point that she wasn't going anywhere the tip of her heeled foot also joined the hand in keeping the door open.
"Look lady I'm not really in the mood for visitors." Especially ones that know me as Swan.
"Then you are Miss Swan, Ms. Emma Swan?"
Emma already felt like she'd been asked that a hundred times in the last minute. Why was it she couldn't enjoy her birthday in peace? All she wanted to do was grab another beer from the fridge, plop down on the couch and watch some television. Basically sulk the night away. "Yeah, see, you already asked that. When I asked who was asking you ignored me. I don't typically let strangers into my apartment or talk to them unless they're attractive."
The what's-her-name-woman huffed out an insulted breath. "Lucky for me then as I normally would have no wish to speak to someone of your…" Her brown eyes took in Emma from head to toe and the blonde couldn't help the shiver that coursed through her at the appraising look. The smirk that formed on the brunette's face, tilted to the right side of her face, made her look a bit evil. So maybe that movie about the devil wearing prada was somewhat factual. "…lesser caliber."
Emma laughed harshly, shaking her head from side to side. "You really have a way of sweet talking your way into a stranger's apartment…" Emma sarcastically cast, rolling her eyes at the glare directed towards her.
The only reason Emma hadn't closed the door, with the woman's foot in the jam, was merely due to her curiosity and fear that this woman was sent here by a mutual friend. She was infinitely curious about who this woman was. Even if it seemed that hell would have to freeze over before she was given a name.
"I'm going to give you five seconds to move your foot and hand. If by that time you haven't moved them I'm going to close the door on them anyway." Emma warned. "One…"
"There is no need to resort to violence Miss Swan I am…"
"Two—"
"…merely here to speak with you for a…"
"Three—"
"…moment. Would you please refrain from counting it is not like I…"
"Four—"
"…am an imbecile! I am capable of counting to…"
"Five," they said at the same time, their voices melding into one although the brunette's snotty tone almost gave hers a bigger edge than Emma's.
Emma brought her other hand up to the door and kicked her sneakered foot against the tip of the high heel in the doorway, making the woman stumble as her foot was moved back out into the hallway where it belonged. Nodding, as if saying, see ya, Emma pushed the door closed.
Almost closed.
"WAIT!" The woman raised her voice, and slipped her entire body into the small crack preventing Emma from closing the door. Again.
For the love of… "What is your problem?" Emma raged stomping her foot as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. What was this woman's problem? Oh god…Emma froze, what if she was some crazy lunatic that escaped from a mental hospital? Or a wife or family member of a begrudged person she'd help put back in jail for skipping bail? Swallowing Emma tried to remember which drawer in the kitchen had her handgun in it.
"Regina." The woman spat out as if the name was a curse.
"What..?" Emma questioned again not following the woman's train of thought.
"My name." Emma blinked. "You asked who was asking. My name is Regina Mills. I've come to speak with you about an urgent matter. Please, may I come in?"
Emma went over the cases she'd had in the last month. There were at least a dozen of them and Mills didn't register as any in her mind. To be sure she'd have to look through the notebook she kept on the cases she had collected on. Normally there was no time like the present in her mind, but with an unidentified friend or foe literally halfway through her doorway, well, Emma would have to wait to check her files.
"Forgive me if I say no." Emma really didn't care one way or the other if the woman didn't forgive her. "For now. What's the urgent matter?"
The woman—Regina, sighed her hands still against the edge of the door to keep it open at least enough so she wouldn't suffer any harm from it hitting her. The gloves put Emma on edge and the trench coat that she had been admiring before suddenly made a pit form in her stomach.
"It is a matter that should not be discussed with me hanging through your door…"
"Look, Regina…"
"Ms. Mills or Mayor Mills…will do, Miss Swan." The edge to the woman's voice was back, and her eyes narrowed into slits again.
Wonderful, the harpy's back, Emma rolled her eyes, "Whatever. Ms…wait a second." Emma stopped and scrutinized the woman in front of her. She'd said Mayor, but the Mayor of Boston was currently Thomas Menino, had been since 1993 and this woman certainly wasn't him. "Mayor, Mayor of where?"
The Mayor heaved a sigh, and looked as if she wanted to pinch the bridge of her nose in irritation. "Storybrooke, Maine."
Emma spit out a laugh, "You're shitting me, right?" Who named a place Storybrooke?
"I can assure you, Miss Swan that I am not…" Her face contorted into distaste "…shitting you. Now, may I please come in?"
"Yeah, alright, fine but stay by the door for a minute…" Emma opened the door and stepped away from it towards the kitchen. "Kay?"
"Yes, that will be fine Miss Swan, thank you." Emma nodded, and let Mayor Mills close the door behind her.
Emma kept her eyes on the brunette as she stepped backwards through her apartment, her hands sliding over the edge of her counter tops to help guide her. Finding her notebook on the counter by the coffee machine she opened the book and looked through the last twelve entries. None of those she'd brought in had been from Maine or had any close relative named Mills. Satisfied she closed the book and moved back towards her guest, who was taking in the apartment as critically as she had taken in Emma's lounging-gruff look.
Seeing a frown crease the woman's face Emma crossed her arms, defensive of the obvious distaste. "So, I'd apologize for being a bitch but I'm not exactly sorry. Can I get you some coffee, tea, a beer?"
Regina turned to look at her, an expectant smile upon her face. "Coffee would be lovely."
"Sure, it'll be a little while." Emma pre-warned.
"That's fine."
"Okay…" Emma felt uncomfortable as she got the can of coffee from her cupboard and grabbed a filter off the shelf. She only had two mugs as she never needed more than that. She'd only just gotten the second one because her favorite I 3 New York mug chipped last week. Turning around she leaned against the counter, her hands gripping the edge as her eyes tracked Regina's slow progress around the apartment.
The brunette's heels clicked against the hardwood floors, echoing around the otherwise silent space.
"So…" Emma cleared her throat, "You said you had something important to talk to me about. I don't know what it could be…" Emma laughed, nervously, "I've never even heard of Storybrooke, Maine. Let alone been there."
Regina turned around slowly, her focus no longer on the beautiful skyline visible out Emma's windows. Emma liked the apartment for that very reason. The west wall was nothing but windows making the place seem larger than it really was. There was just something about being able to look out onto the vastness that was Boston, the freedom one could feel, even if it was rainy and you were trapped inside.
The click-clack of the heels pulled Emma from her thoughts as she pushed off the counter to lean against the island that was between herself and Regina. Crossing her ankles behind her she bent down a bit and crossed her wrists in front of her against the brown slate stone. She watched Regina like a hawk taking careful note of each of her movements and the flickering of her brown eyes.
"I would suppose you wouldn't have heard of it. However, where I live does not truly pertain to why I am here."
"Well it should, I mean you came all this way."
"How far I've come…" Regina sighed and looked to the right, "is irrelevant. I would have traveled oversees if that was where you were located."
Regina saw the single cupcake on the other end of the island with its birthday candle and missing frosting. The smell of dissolute smoke was vaguely upon the air between them. Her brow raised in question as she met Emma's eyes once again.
"It's my birthday." Emma explained easily, shrugging her shoulders.
"Oh, Happy Birthday." Regina's eyes actually sparkled a bit and the wish seemed to be genuine. But as soon as it had arrived any warmth or kindness quickly vanished. But not before Emma caught sight of the other woman's worry.
Interesting…
Emma stared at Regina, trying to get a better read on the woman. The gate was down, it had crashed back down the moment Regina had seemed to relax—if that were even possible. Emma didn't know Regina, but she could guess that Regina was the uptight type of person who really really needed a good lay to relax. Even then, Emma could hardly see Regina relaxed.
An image of the brunette's eyes dark and lidded flashed across her mind's eye as her ears imagined hearing the low and husky voice of the mayor moaning in pleasure, on their own accord. Silk sheets would frame the woman; her mouth would fall open in a soundless cry as her back arched off the bed and…
*PING*
Emma blinked away the haze that had come over her thoughts and spun around to get the coffee. "How do you take your coffee?"
" one sugar."
You could tell a lot about a person by how they took their coffee, and Regina's preference made Emma cringe, only while her back was to Regina of course. She wasn't that rude. Emma couldn't stand black coffee. She preferred half and half or Coffee Mate sweetener, hazelnut or French Vanilla. To each their own…
Bringing both cups of coffee back to the island Emma put the newer plain black mug in front of Regina and sipped at her own. She watched as the mayor simply stirred hers around. The Mayor's thoughts seemingly trapped, drowning, lost in the depths of the caffeinated brew so intently she looked at the liquid.
Clearing her throat, Emma pulled Regina's attention back to the matter at hand. From the startled look on the brunette's face, Emma assumed it wasn't every day that Regina was lost in thought. "What's so important to come all the way to Boston to talk to me? I'm not exactly on anyone's list of 'must sees' in this city, Madame Mayor. To be honest? It's more than a little creepy to think you'd come looking for me even if I was overseas."
Regina didn't seem to mind Emma's bluntness; after all, the brunette had started it with her hostile introduction.
"My son is why I'm here Miss Swan. He is the reason I have come all this way and he would be the reason I traveled to the ends of the earth to find you."
Emma took another sip of her coffee, holding her mug loosely in her hand above the counter as she shook her head from side to side in question, "Oh…kay…I'm not following. What do I have to do with your son?"
"He is not my biological son."
"Uhhh…" Emma felt something ghost across the back of her neck, warning her against whatever was to come from this conversation.
Regina sighed and put her mug down. It took the brunette only a moment to look away from her coffee mug and into Emma's blue eyes. "He is your biological child."
The fire behind the mahogany eyes kept Emma transfixed even as Regina literally tore apart everything she'd worked so hard to build up. The mug slipped from her hand and the sound of porcelain breaking echoed through the apartment as Regina jumped back from her side of the counter, the hot liquid racing towards her as it splashed across the countertop.
Emma snapped out of her daze as the coffee burned her arm. Hissing she moved to grab some paper towels. She threw them down on the counter and let them absorb most of the coffee while she rushed over to the sink and ran her arm under cold water. Her skin was red and irritated and her hands shook.
My son…
Regina was here to talk to her about her son, the baby that she had given up ten years ago. Regina was here because of the same child that Emma had done her best not to think about all day. It was hard, especially on his birthday and Christmas and mother's day and today but she did her best to drown away those days into alcohol induced blackness. He was better off without her. She had nothing to offer a child even ten years later. Sure she had a job and an apartment but she only just settled down into this apartment six months ago and her job wasn't steady. Nothing about her life was steady. A child deserved to have stability in their life. Didn't they?
So why in the world was Regina here? Why come now? What was it that she wanted from Emma so many years later?
"I suppose I should have expected that." Regina spoke from behind Emma, and the blonde spun around, the faucet still running as her eyes bore into the brunette.
Beneath her breast her heart hammered erratically against its cage, begging to be released. "What the hell are you doing here? Why the hell did you come? What right do you have to even come looking for me? I…I…this is, ugh…get out!"
"Now Miss Swan I know this is a very shocking turn of events but if you would just calm down…"
"CALM DOWN!? CALM DOWN!? Lady you need to get the fuck out of here before I call the cops. You shouldn't even know who I am! It was a closed adoption. Closed! Legally binding. How…" Emma seemed to be losing steam, even if she had more questions than answers at the moment. "…how did you even get my name?"
"I have my sources." The cryptic bullshit with the shrewd smirk was not what Emma needed to hear or see right now.
"I asked you to leave. No, I told you to leave. So, I think it's time that you do that." Emma moved to stand directly in front of Regina, cutting her off from any part of the kitchen. She promised herself that if this woman did not start moving immediately she was going to force her to walk out her door.
Regina squared her shoulders and threw down the damp brown colored paper towels that she had apparently used to clean up the mess Emma had made. Emma hadn't even noticed.
"I am not going anywhere Miss Swan. I am here to discuss with you—"
"What! What are you here to discuss? Hmm…?"
"Henry—"
Who the fuck is Henry?!
"Who?!"
Regina heaved a deep breath, "My son."
Emma froze. Henry…
The little bundle of wiggling flesh and deep red rosy cheeks and blue eyes much like her own had a name. He wasn't just 'the kid' or 'the boy' or 'the baby'—though he wouldn't have been a baby in a long time. He wasn't the infant swathed in cloth that she watched a nurse carry away from her and out the door of the hospital wing for her to never see again. He was still a figment of her imagination as she had no idea what he could look like now all grown up. She hoped he didn't look like his father.
So, she didn't know what he looked like but now she at least had a name to go along with her imaginations of him in a big backyard with a puppy and a loving doting mother and father.
His name is Henry…
Swallowing Emma nodded, "Oh…" Emma felt her heart begin to slow down—thankfully. The last thing she needed was to have a heart attack on her 28th birthday. The fight or flight instinct slowly seeped out of her, her breath still lost to her as she looked at Regina.
Regina…is the mother of my kid.
"Yes. Well…" Regina stuck her hands into the pockets of her trench coat and pulled it around her for a moment. Her eyes were weary as she looked around the kitchen before focusing on Emma once again, her arms slacking at her sides as she relaxed. The distance between them was of no concern to Regina, even if it was a bit uncomfortable to stand toe to toe with Miss Swan.
The mere idea of this hard woman as a mother frightened Emma, but not enough to say anything. If Regina had come all this way because of Hen…because of the kid, then she obviously cared about him one way or another. Didn't she? She certainly seemed to by the vehemence she exhibited at the idea of her insulting him.
"So, what about the kid?"
Regina's jaw flexed, apparently she didn't like the term 'the kid'. Oh well, too bad.
"He has a name…." Regina hissed.
"Yeah, Henry, which I just learned so sorry if I'm a little uncomfortable even saying 'the kid' let alone Henry. I've done my best not to think about him for my own personal reasons, so having his name and his mother thrown into my face isn't exactly how I wanted my birthday to go." Emma shook her head and looked down at her feet, her white easy spirit sneakers vivid against the hardwood floor.
She needed a moment to collect herself. Just a single moment where she could pretend that Regina Mills, Mayor of Storybrooke Maine hadn't just arrived at her apartment wanting to talk about Henry Mills, Regina's son, but really he was Emma's biological son. Emma didn't care much about biology. Never had. Her biological parents had left her on the side of the road to die. At least she had had the decency to leave Henry in the capable hands of the State of New York.
In all the foster homes she had been in she'd met a great deal of women, of mothering types, and judging by what she had seen of Regina thus far, Henry would have been a spoiled little kid that got everything he wanted so long as it fit under Regina's strict rules. Strict parents were not bad parents. They weren't. Emma had seen sweet and loving parents and she'd seen strict and hard faced parents in her day. They were both good parents, they just never seemed to want to keep her around.
She'd seen bad parents, learned to spot them easily so she knew what to expect of her stay in their homes. Here, as she looked at Regina, Emma didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Not a single red flag on the detection system she had created for her own survival and hadn't had to rely on for nearly eleven years. So…she might be a bit out of practice, but so far Regina Mills was racking in the points for having the balls to come down the east coast looking for her.
For whatever reason it was she did.
Really, Emma had no intentions of thinking about her past unless she had a bottle of liquor available. Which come to think of it, she didn't, just three beers in the fridge.
Great…Groaning, Emma ran her hand through her hair, pushing it back away from her face as she looked up. Regina was still right in front of her, watching her like a hungry lion did a gazelle.
"Do you have a point here, or are you just here to annoy the shit out of me?"
If looks could kill, Emma would have been twelve feet under. Not six, but twelve. "I assure you Miss Swan I have a point to make. I simply wished to have a civilized conversation with you. I had hoped to ease you into the knowledge of who I am. I simply did not take into account your…" Regina looks as if she's swallowed something bitter as she drags her eyes down Emma and back up. "…personality."
Emma laughed bitterly, "If you're here to just insult me then I think it's time you hit the road, Jane."
"Excuse me?" Regina doesn't seem to understand the reference.
"You know, like hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more, no more, no more no more?" Still, there was nothing. "Ugh…pop-culture reference that you should get because you're obviously older than I am."
Regina's eyes widened, and her jaw slacked a bit lower. "Be that as it may, I believe that we should both take a seat."
Emma rolled her eyes, "You have a knack for ignoring me. I don't want to take a seat, I want you to leave."
"I cannot do that Miss Swan." Regina's eyes blazed for a moment, and Emma swallowed nervously at the look upon the woman's face.
"Why…?"
"I promised myself that I would not leave here without you."
Emma took an involuntary step back. Now she was really contemplating looking through her drawers to find the handgun she hadn't used since the last time she went to the shooting range to get certified. "Ha…" Emma breathed a convulsive laugh, "You aren't leaving here without me? Like kidnapping?"
"I believe the term would be abduction as you are no child." Emma's heart plummeted into her stomach. "I am not a criminal Miss Swan. I have no intention of taking you against your will. I simply hope that you've inherited a decent nature, and will come on your own accord." There was no physical eye roll but Emma could hear it in her voice, that and the woman calling her an imbecile without actually saying it aloud. How odd, she could so easily read the woman and she'd only been standing in her kitchen for…fifteen minutes.
"To Maine!?"
"No to Tahiti…" Regina rolled her eyes, "Yes…to Maine."
Emma laughed, cause what else could she do? "Look, lady, I'm not going anywhere with you."
"I do not believe you understand the imperativeness of this situation, Miss Swan."
"No, and I don't think you understand what it'll mean for you to be thrown in jail if I call the cops. So, do us both a favor. Get to the point or get out. Actually, do both. Get to the point while you'regetting out."
Regina seemed to consider her options for a moment, her teeth ground together as she glared at Emma. Emma shivered under the gaze but felt like she was slowly becoming immune to it…if only a little bit. Regina looked like she could be a mighty imposing woman when she wanted to be.
When the mayor continued to remain silent Emma shook her head and grabbed a tight hold on the woman's forearm. Knowing in other circumstances Emma would never do this; she pulled Regina along with her heading towards the door. She wasn't one for man-handling a woman, but special circumstances and all.
"What do you think you're doing?" Regina still had the sense of mind to ask why she was being man handled.
"The door's this way…" Emma explained.
"Wait…" Regina's desperation seemed to return full force as she yanked her arm free of Emma's hold, nearly stumbling backwards in her heels by the force she pulled away with. "Henry needs your help."
Emma sighed frustrated, and turned impatiently to look at the Mayor. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Henry is ill. He's very…" Regina's voice caught, "…the doctors say he's dying."
"Die…" Emma felt bile rise as everything seemed to turn upside down.
"They say that but…they're wrong. There is a way to help him. To save him! He needs a transplant. He needs something only you can give him. He has a very distinct blood type. He's already had a transplant and he's rejected it because of his antibodies. He needs another transplant or he's going to die, Miss Swan. So, I've come here, all this way, because Henry needs you to come back with me. He needs you and I…I need you to save my son. I can't stand by and let him die."
Emma recoiled as if slapped, "What?" Her brain literally could not compute what it was being told by her eardrums. The words were there and they sounded like English, but surely Regina wasn't speaking English because none of this made any sense.
"Miss Swan I'm beginning to think that you have a very limited vocabulary."
"Piss off."
"And a crude one at that."
Emma notices the tiniest of smirks spring across Regina's face before she is back to pacing back and forth across her kitchen.
"You know what, Madame Mayor…" Emma seethed, the title sounding like the gravest of insults. "You can't just come here and tell me that my…that Henry is dying and expect me to just stand here and take it. What do you want me to do? I've never even met the kid. I held him in my womb, yeah, sure, for nine months but I never even held him because I was afraid that if I did I wouldn't be able to let him go. And we both know I'm not eligible for raising a kid. So I'm glad that you got him, and that he is happy…" Emma's forehead creases, "…was happy. But what do you want me to do? Why did you come all of this way? Why couldn't you just let me pretend that he was fine and happy and had a puppy or some animal with a big backyard to play in? Why come here and tell me he's dying?"
Regina allowed Emma her rant, allowed her a breakdown. It was only fair. Regina had a similar breakdown, has had many similar breakdowns in the last three years. However, she cannot contain her indignation. Isn't it obvious why she has come? Hadn't she just spelled it out for Miss Swan? She needs the blonde dunce to return to Storybrooke with her and be an organ donor to Henry.
"I've come here because, as much as it pains me to admit it, I cannot help him. I cannot make him better. I have raised him since he was six days old. Six days, Miss Swan, the earliest you are allowed to adopt a child. I've held him through every illness, every nightmare, been there for almost every first of his life, and I plan to be there to see the rest of them!" Regina's voice cracks and tears gather in her eyes. "He is ten years old. He is a ten year old boy that should be playing sports and bruising his knees falling off his bike. Instead he spends all his free time in the hospital and his only friends are the nurses and doctors that he sees every day!"
Emma's mouth is open but nothing escapes but a disgusting blend of sounds that did not make a legitimate word, it didn't even come close.
"He is only ten, Miss Swan. He has hardly lived his life. A life I am grateful for you to have given him by carrying through with the pregnancy, grateful because I have not known the joy I've felt while raising him anywhere else in my life." A wayward tear escaped Regina's eye without her knowledge of it. At least, that's what Emma thinks because she keeps talking, keeps explaining to her the depth of the situation while burying herself and Emma deeper and deeper still.
"But I cannot help him now. I cannot ease his pain. I was tested, I am not a match. The entire town has been tested. He is beloved by all! He is a very special boy. Wiser than his years and genuine…so very genuinely good. Young though he may be. He has a beautiful soul and the biggest heart I've ever seen!" Regina closed her cupped hands against her chest, her eyes pleading. "Complete strangers have offered to give him what he needs. Now I need you to offer the same. I need you to save him, Miss Swan, because I cannot live without him."
Emma is mesmerized by the woman in front of her and the pain that she is emanating just by standing where she is. Behind her through the windows rain blurs the image of the Boston skyline and lightning streaks across the sky. Besides the sound of their shared breathing and the tap of raindrops against the window, there is nothing. Nothing but silence as Regina finally stops talking and Emma stares openly in shock.
Regina must realize she is crying because she looks away and her hand moves up to her face and when she turns back there are no traces of her tears. "Please…" The desperation is back, except it's sharper and more deadly than it was the last two times.
Third time should be the charm, but Emma can't speak. She can't even move right now. She just stares and blinks and breathes because that's all she's capable of at the moment. "Please, Miss Swan."
Emma wants to clutch at her own chest; she wants to scream because this cannot be happening. She does not want to hear about the joy Regina has had while raising Henry. She does not want to see the anguish the woman feels over the possibility of losing him, of knowing she cannot help him. Emma just wants to go back to how her life has been, carefree and unburdened. She does not want the pressure of saving Henry's life on her shoulders, because what if she doesn't measure up? What if Regina is wrong? What if she isn't a match? What then?
What happens when she goes all the way to Maine, does this test that Regina wants her to do—because there is no way Regina just knows that she's a match, it's all just wishful thinking and there will have to be lots of tests and doctors and dozens of needles—and what if she does all that? What if she goes and does it and they find out that she can't save Henry? What then? To have gone all that way and done all of that, to have met her son, seen his face and heard his voice and gotten to know him only to lose him? No…
No, she couldn't do that.
What if she doesn't want to give up part of her liver or a kidney a lung—though she wonders if one could give up part of their lung—and make it so she can't do what she does for a living? She can't be a bounty hunter if she doesn't have a kidney or part of her lung. Hell she wouldn't be able to play soccer if she doesn't have a kidney—at least that's what her TV shows tell her. If she does this, if she saves the kids life, what life will she have?
That's the rub.
That's what stops her heart cold. She's more concerned about herself than she is about her biological child.
She wonders if that's normal. Should she instantly agree to go with Regina to Storybrooke, Maine? Strangers, Regina says, have offered to help Henry because he's such a good kid. And if she doesn't offer the same, what does that make her? A monster? The villain? She's never thought of herself as a hero but by no means has she ever thought of herself as a villain either.
And still there is a deeper level of thought that she finds herself delving into. What if she does save Henry? What if she goes to Maine, and gives the kid whatever body part he needs and her life is the same? And then…and then Regina doesn't want her to be around Henry? What if she has to leave? Emma's seen it happen before. Not to the extent of giving a body part and then getting the heave-ho, but it's the same concept isn't it? What if she measures up biologically only to fail socially? Could she go to Maine and sit down and talk with her son and learn his secrets and tell him some of her own, and then just leave because she did her part? Would Henry even want her to stay? What if he was angry at her for giving him up?
What if 'this'
Or
What if 'that'.
What if…
"I, I…" Emma can't speak, she can't think in consecutive thoughts. She needs to sit down. And damn it, she wants to stay standing just so she doesn't prove Regina right. The bitch had told her that they should sit, and she's too stubborn to admit that Regina was right.
"I know this is a lot to take in, I understand the shock of…"
"No you don't." Emma whispers her voice hoarse.
"Excuse me?"
"You don't understand the shock. You don't understand how much this is to take in…yeah, maybe learning the kid you're raising has cancer or something that's going to kill him is big. But he's your kid. He's yours, he's not mine. I gave him up, I broke all ties with him because I'm not what's best for him. Having this thrown on me is NOT something I ever expected!"
Regina's eyes darken, "I assure you that learning your son is dying and you can do nothing to stop it is more than whatever measly shock you're feeling right now, Miss Swan." If words could cut, Emma would be sliced down to the bone. "I certainly did not expect to bring my son to the doctors and have him diagnosed with stage three cancer! I did not appreciate that fate being thrown on my son, on myself. I did not expect to find that our saving grace was not a saving grace at all. We'd found a match! We didn't need you, because we had our miracle. But his body unexpectedly rejected it. No one had taken into consideration that he might have a rare immune system antibody. After all who thinks a cancer patient has an astounding immune system?" Regina laughed at the irony of it. "It caused a cellular immunity to develop and he rejected the transplant. His chemotherapy and the immunosuppressants could do nothing, but you can!" Regina challenged, going so far as to point a finger at Emma for emphasis.
"You need to stop saying that!"
"I will not!" Regina yelled and stepped closer to Emma, once again toe to toe with the woman. "I will not stop saying it because you are. You are the only one that can help us. His father is dead…"
Whatever color had been in Emma's cheeks fled as she became extremely pale. "H..how do you…" Emma swallowed feeling ill once again.
"I have my sources, Miss Swan." Seeing how pale Emma was becoming, Regina quickly moved to reassure the woman. "I am not here to judge your actions. I would even go so far as to say he deserved everything he got."
One day, Emma would have the strength to question who exactly those sources Regina spoke of were, but for now she was too relieved to know that Regina knew the darkest part of her past and yet still wanted her help. Regina even seemed to understand her actions, and thought her just. Well, her and three jurors then. The other nine were just assholes in comparison.
"I am here to help my son. I assure you that if there were any other option, any other way I would have much rather taken those routes. I have tried them already. I do not want to ask for help, Miss Swan. I have never wanted to ask for help and I haven't needed to in years. But I…I need it. I need you to help Henry."
"I, I need time to think about this." Emma finally says her voice sounding like it usually does, when not emotionally bombarded. "I can't handle all of this right now. I need time. Okay? You want my help? You want me to do this? Then you need to leave me alone. Like, right the fuck now."
"I can't…"
"It wasn't a question." Emma insists, not willing to back down on this.
The resoluteness that was Regina Mills seemed to take a moment to consider her next move. Instead of fighting the issue and pushing the line back another five steps, she seems to accept that nothing more can be done tonight. Anything more and Emma will completely shut her down, and that cannot happen.
"Fine…" Regina sticks her hand into her pocket and pulls out a small black and white business card. "…my card. I am sorry to spring this on you, on your birthday." Regina states, her eyes looking from Emma back to the cupcake. "Do understand that I had no choice."
"Whatever…" Emma waves Regina off, her arm tight around her stomach. She notices Regina pull something else out of her jacket pocket and put it next to her card. "I'll call you." An age old promise that's left broken hearts scattered like leaves on the wind. Emma isn't quite sure if she's capable of putting Henry's heart or Regina's for that matter, atop that ever growing pile. She just needs time. That's all. She needs just a few minutes, a few moments, maybe a few hours to think all this through. To really sit down and buckle up and think long and hard about what this all means for her, what this is going to mean for Henry and Regina and all those strangers she's never met who seem so much better than her in comparison for offering up what she's hesitant to.
Emma doesn't watch Regina leave; she's staring out the window at the rain. It isn't until the door closes that she runs into the bathroom, the door slamming against the wall and swinging on its hinges as she dives for the toilet and loses what little was in her stomach.
What feels like hours later, Emma leans away from the porcelain, the seat down as she flushes it. Falling back on her haunches she just stares blankly at nothing. This day certainly hadn't ended like she'd hoped it would. No good movie on the television, no alcohol in her system, and no way that she would ever forget about her evening.
"Huh…Happy Birthday to me."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. -.-.-
Closing the door behind her, Regina turns to look at the blue paint and imagines Emma standing exactly where she had been as she'd left with the simple addition of tears on her cheeks. Emma does not seem like the tears type, but Regina knows from her recent experience that situations like these change people.
Not always for the better.
Pulling her trench coat close to her she stalks down the hallway to the elevator. Jabbing her finger against the call button she waits for it. Her mind racing as she sees its slow progression through the slowly lighting up numbers above the doorway. She had promised herself she would be triumphant so there was a bitter taste in her mouth now as she stepped into the elevator without so much as a true promise from Miss Swan to call her. The elevator doors close and before she even realizes it she is at the lobby.
Tying the sash of her trench her heels echo through the empty foyer. Without an umbrella she decides to dash across the street once it is clear. Waiting under the overhead of the building she only has to wait several seconds before it is clear to run across the street and down the block to where her car is parked.
Above her, Regina imagines Emma's eyes tracking her, pitying her, and at the moment Regina would take it. If Emma pities her, pities the situation she and Henry are in she is more likely to do something to assist them.
Unlocking the car she slips in and turns the ignition. Turning on the windshield wipers she waits for her GPS to turn on. A GPS is apparently a must-buy according to frequent travelers' guide. She was honestly glad she purchased it. Mapping out a city as complex as Boston in comparison to Storybrooke? Ha, without it she would have been looking for Miss Swan's apartment building for days.
Typing in the address of her hotel Regina realizes she never should have made the reservation. It was a sign. One from Fate, telling her that she WOULD need the room because she WOULDN'T be returning to Storybrooke with Miss Swan immediately. Sighing, Regina closes her eyes and tries to regain some semblance of herself. She will not cry. She will not, not after doing so in that dastardly woman's apartment!
Running her hand through her wet hair Regina looks in her rearview mirror, swallows, and pulls out into non-existent traffic. She will wait until tomorrow afternoon before returning to visit Miss Swan. If the woman has not already called her at that time.
If the blonde refused to assist Henry, to assist her…Regina refuses to contemplate such a future at this time. Instead she prays that this world will allow for one miracle, just one. She will never ask for anything ever again after this. Once she has secured Henry's future, she will need nothing more. Nothing, she promises whoever may be listening. Hoping that someone is, because she needs all the help she can get, especially if Emma fucking Swan is supposed to be her saving grace, her and Henry's Savior.
End Chapter One
So, what do you think?
