Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.
A/N: Un-beta'd. All errors are my own.
o
There is a certain clarity that comes with knowing the moment of one's own death. A clarity that opens up all the doors, allows freedoms otherwise ignored and lets one take the chances that never would have been taken.
And so it was that Regina knew the very day, the very hour and even the very minute of her demise - the price, the curse, that came with knowing magic. Of course, he never told her the moment that magic coursed through her veins that she would be open to the knowledge. Never told her that her risks would become more calculated the closer her hour drew near; never told her that ignorance truly would have been bliss. As that first spell had been cast, she saw her death and saw the face that lingered there.
o
She held the small baby boy in her arms, his face still red from recent crying. The wails could be heard as soon as she had stepped inside the hospital to finalize the adoption.
"And what will you name him?" The officious looking woman had asked her.
The name had tumbled off her tongue without a second thought - there had been no other option, no other name she would have wanted to give.
So she signed her name to the bottom of the form, initialled it in various other locations and a final signature at the back was all that was needed. Her heart beat wildly against the inside of her chest, reminding her of its presence, reassuring her that it still worked. Then, suddenly, this small bundle had been placed in her arms and the wailing had instantly ceased. There had been a gulp as his small body had settled down and she felt a lump rising in her throat. Is this love? She pondered as she stroked the little boy's tear stained cheeks, belatedly realizing that some of the tears that graced his small features had fallen from her own eyes.
o
"You're Henry's birth mother?" She had tried to keep the shock from registering in her voice, or the recognition of the blonde woman's face from her eyes. Her world could unravel, the fabric of time tear apart at the seams if she did not play this carefully.
"Hi," came the hesitant reply.
Regina was only dimly aware that Graham had spoken and made no motion to acknowledge his continued presence. Years had passed since it had been necessary to play the part, years of becoming accustomed to the daily grind the small, sleepy town presented her; all remedied in an instant as she put on her most welcoming smile. Find out the truth then send this woman on her way.
"How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you have ever tasted?"
It should have been just that easy, intimidation was her strong suit, and decades of practice should have left the blonde a quivering mess. But Emma's eyes had been unyielding; her demeanour reeked of having been broken and glued back together more times than Regina would ever hope to count. Years had gone by and she had forgotten how to read people, had pressed the wrong buttons, said exactly the wrong things.
24 hours later and the clock moved; her world began slowly to unravel.
o
"Daddy, no, I can't," she stifled a sob as she felt strong, protective arms encircling her.
"You must," he replied.
She buried her head further in to his shoulder, a shudder running through her as she suppressed her tears. It was too much to ask, too much of a weight to bear. She shook her head once more against the scratchy fabric of his overcoat.
"Please," he said, pushing her away from him slightly, taking a hold of her hand and holding it over his ribcage.
Looking in to his eyes, she saw only forgiveness and understanding; she thought she would shatter like glass against the cold, hard floor. Her hand faltered as she felt the rhythmic beat below her fingertips. Shaking her head again, she tried to pull her hand away.
"Regina, listen to me. You have little more than a year. I will not out-live my daughter." His hand had come up to her face, gently stroking her cheek as his thumb had brushed away an errant tear. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you when it truly mattered; let me give you this one gift now."
And she saw it then, the fear in his own eyes that she would not take it, would not allow him the chance to redeem himself in her eyes. The spark of hatred that kept her warm at night flared, the hatred that was fuelled and fanned by Snow White, the sole reason she had been forced to use magic in the first place.
With a slow blink of her eyes, she pulled her father's heart from his chest and wept.
o
She slid comfortably in to the seat opposite Emma at the diner, relishing the small look of shock that passed across the blonde's face at the intrusion.
"Miss Swan, I'm surprised to see that you're still in town," she had said, raising an eyebrow as she noticed the cup of hot chocolate before the younger woman.
The town clock had not stopped moving, was bent on carrying on its cycle; each day brought a new wave of nausea and panic to the Mayor. Each day brought her just a little bit closer, increased the stakes just a little bit more. The pain in her jaw alerted her to the tenseness with which she held it.
"I just want to make sure Henry's ok," Emma had replied, moving the beverage off to the side, her fingers interlacing as she placed her hands on the table.
A muscle in her cheek twitched at the audacity of the woman seated opposite.
"You gave up those rights ten years ago, Miss Swan. Don't presume you have any now."
She watched as Emma exhaled, softly blowing a few strands of blonde hair from forest green eyes.
"I can't help it," she said, opening her hands, palms facing upwards towards Regina in semblance of supplication. A small shrug had accompanied her statement, a corner of her mouth rising in a half-hearted smile.
"I assure you, Miss Swan, Henry is well. What he doesn't need is you in his life distracting him."
What Regina had not expected was for the blonde woman to stand up and lean on her hands over the table, moving as close to the Mayor as the table separating the pair would allow.
"Your assurances, Madam Mayor," Emma had all but spat at the title, "leave quite a lot to be desired."
It was not often that Regina was left speechless, but she had to admit to a brief moment of having the wind knocked from her as a blonde fury strode purposefully from the diner before her.
o
She smiled broadly as Henry took his first, faltering steps towards her across the plush carpeted room. It had only been a couple of steps before he had fallen down, only to push himself up from the floor and try once again. She beamed with pride as he eventually made it, falling in to her loving arms; and she lay back against the carpet, holding him high above her head as he giggled in delight.
This was more than she deserved, by far, but she would cling to her happy ending; hold it tight and never let it go.
She brought the small boy down to lay against her chest as she felt his chubby fingers grab a fistful of her hair. Carefully she had pulled her hair free and instead his hand had gripped her finger, holding it tightly.
"Mama," he gurgled happily and once more an errant tear escaped her eye.
o
"It seems my son has taken quite a liking to you, Miss Swan," she had been unable to keep the clipped, annoyed tone from entering her voice. It had given her a small amount of pleasure when the Deputy had jumped at her words, not having seen her approach from the waiting room. Intimidation had not been the key in pushing Emma Swan out of town; from digging around Emma's files, the only thing the blonde woman seemed to run from was commitment.
She watched as Emma stumbled over her words as she'd spun her chair to face the Mayor.
"Regina, I didn't hear you come in," Emma had said, slightly flustered under the steady gaze.
"Obviously," was the measured reply as Regina's eyes scanned the desk behind Emma. If there was any order to the apparent chaos, it was lost on the Mayor.
The air became thick as the pair remained silent; Emma seated in her chair as if trapped, Regina enjoying her heightened position. A small grin of satisfaction broke across her face when she noticed Emma fidgeting with the sleeve of her jacket.
"Dinner is at six, Miss Swan. Don't be late," she remarked before turning on her heel and leaving the Deputy behind, stunned expression across her creamy white features.
o
"You know, dearie, there's only one thing that will circumvent your death," he grinned maniacally, waving a finger in her general direction.
"Why would I want that?" she'd asked, the hole in her heart a great, yawning maw set to devour her whole. The pain lingered; had it truly been less than six months since Daniel had... died?
"To have your happy ending, of course!" a high-pitched reply hit her ears, it's meaning less than coherent. Her happy ending had already died and she would be forced to spend the intervening years waiting in the in-between place - unable to die until her allotted time, unable to truly live.
"My happy ending is dead," she turned from the golden man, leaned her hands against the mantel over the fireplace and stared at the ring Daniel had given her.
"Oh dearie," Rumpelstiltskin had said, his voice as sweet as honey, "that's where you're wrong. Your happy ending is far from here; but it is still available if only you were to reach out and grasp it with both hands." His eyes had gone wide as he had motioned reaching out and grabbing a hold of something.
This horrible place of waiting was already beginning to be too much to bear, and if there was still a chance at her happy ending, who was she not to take it? With a shrug of her shoulders she pulled herself up to her full height, threw the mask back on and turned around once more.
"What do I need to do?"
o
The clock continued its perpetual movement and Regina shivered at the knowledge. She had lost two more months; her happy ending was falling apart. Already Henry disliked her, something she hadn't anticipated until he was well in to his teenage years - and certainly not for the very valid reasons he had. She had expected rebellion, read all the books on raising a son as a single mother, but nothing had prepared her for having his birth mother in town nor his obvious preference for the blonde woman over herself.
She sighed softly as she pulled another plate from the pile to be washed. Perhaps this had been a bad idea - a very bad, one time only, idea.
"Can I help?" she heard from over her shoulder.
Involuntarily she felt her back stiffen at the voice as she gripped the dishcloth in her hand, her knuckles whitening.
"It's time for Henry to go to bed. You could see to it that it happens," she had replied through gritted teeth.
No response had been forthcoming and it wasn't until she saw the retreating form of the blonde mirrored in the window that she had been able to breathe easy once again.
o
Regina glanced up as the door to her office clicked open, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips as the blonde woman closed the door behind her before walking confidently up to the desk.
"Do you need something, Sherriff?"
To her curiosity, Emma visibly winced under the title, still obviously uncomfortable with it. For the first time since meeting this train-wreck of a woman, she found she didn't get the usual satisfaction from causing her pain. A mystery for another day. Schooling her features to neutrality, she eyed the woman before her.
"I have the new projected budget you requested," Emma said, putting the folder down on her desk, shifting her weight over her feet.
Without a word Regina picked up the papers and gave them a cursory glance before finally adding them to the stack of papers already awaiting her signature. Turning her attention back to the paperwork she had been working on, she continued to read, all but ignoring the blonde on the other side of her desk.
It wasn't until she heard the frustrated sigh and the start of footsteps walking away that she finally broke the silence.
"Monday, Wednesday and Friday, Miss Swan. If you miss a day, if you are late just once then make no mistake, any further contact with Henry will be forfeit."
This had elicited the desired reaction as the footsteps came to an abrupt halt. In truth, she could almost hear the wheels turning over in the blonde woman's mind.
"You mean, to pick him up from school, Madam Mayor?" there had been puzzlement in her voice tinged with a small degree of hope.
"No, Miss Swan. Your visits will not be unsupervised. Six o'clock at my house for dinner. You may help Henry with his homework," the remark if you are able was left unsaid, even if the tone had implied it, "and you may put him to bed."
Regina busied herself once again with the paperwork, a small smile spreading across her face as she heard the door open and close once more.
o
"Henry, you're going to love school, I promise," she had said to him, kneeling before her growing son as she adjusted his shirt one more time.
"But I want to stay with you," he whined.
"Oh Henry," she'd said, pulling him in to a tight embrace, "I'll be there to pick you up when you finish and we can go to Granny's and get ice-cream."
That had been the bribing point that would win; his eyes had gone wide at this declaration.
"Promise?" he'd asked, holding out his pinky finger.
"Promise," Regina had said, catching his pinky finger with her own and shaking on it.
o
"Is Emma really coming to dinner again?" Henry asked, suspicion lacing his words.
She'd tried everything else to get her son on side and perhaps she could kill two birds with one stone; drive Emma out of town with the thought of commitment and turn her son's love back to her. She just hoped there would still be time.
"Yes Henry, she's due to be here at six," Regina glanced down at her watch, Emma was cutting it very close.
As if the gods had heard her, a knock at the front door pulled her back to the present as she watched Henry speed off to open it. From her place within the kitchen she heard her son's excited chatter and a more hesitant tone from the blonde. With a soft sigh she finished making the salad and dished up the grilled chicken to go alongside.
"Smells delicious," commented the blonde as she entered the kitchen.
Regina watched as Emma gave Henry a soft nudge, indicating for him to set the table. Once he was clear of the kitchen, Emma seemed to visibly relax.
"Thanks for this, Regina," she remarked.
Her shoulders had shrugged of their own accord. "You should thank my son," was all she said.
A small flicker of confusion crossed her face as she saw Emma's hand reach towards her own, only to stop half way, hesitant, before retracting back to the safety of the pocket of her jeans. The lack of touch burned her more than if any contact had been made and the feeling it provoked caused her to speak in anger.
"He's the one who wanted you here," the implied not me may as well have been spoken for the look the blonde returned to her.
"Maybe I should go," Emma began, but soon found herself cut off by the Mayor.
"And forfeit any further time? Don't be ridiculous. I won't have you come here and then hurt my son by leaving after five minutes." She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm. "Take the salad to the table, would you, Miss Swan?" she asked, pointing towards the bowl of salad as she scooped up the plate of grilled chicken.
o
Regina had all but howled in anguish as the magic coursed through her for the first time, felt the flush of power that was so quickly followed by the knowledge of her own demise. She could see the time so clearly, how long she had left until death would take her beyond the veil. In grief, her time still left in the world seemed an eternity and it was all she could do not to jump from the nearest window to test the boundaries of this knowledge.
"Regina!" she heard her name called from behind.
"Daddy," she cried as she slumped to the floor and felt his arms hold her protectively.
"Where's your mother, child?" he asked, smoothing her hair.
"Gone."
He rocked her gently as the tears spilled down her cheeks, waited in silence until she was ready to talk.
It wasn't until the soft sniffles had stopped and Regina pulled slightly away from him that he spoke once more.
"What has happened that has you so upset, child?" he asked, a look of concern furrowing his brow.
"I used magic, Daddy. I.. I saw..." the tears sprang unbidden to her eyes once more, but she had seen the look of understanding in her father's features.
"Oh child," he said as he gathered her once again, whispering soothing nothings in to her hair.
o
"Coffee, Miss Swan?" Regina had asked as Emma walked down the stairs from having put Henry to sleep. She had lost another three months and it was agonizing watching Henry and Emma together. Her plans to rid Storybrooke of Emma had fallen through at every turn, the damnable clock refused to stop and she knew, somewhere deep inside, that her time was running out.
She didn't wait for an answer as she poured two cups of steaming, black coffee and handed one off to Emma. Together they padded their way in to the study, sitting together in companionable silence. Regina had been unsure when that had started, when their bites and antagonizing had given way to an open silence. She watched as Emma leaned forward, placing her cup down upon the coaster on the table and turned her clear, green eyes towards her.
"What are we doing, Regina?" she asked, her expression sincere.
Regina swallowed hard, the coffee burning a trail down her throat.
"What do you mean?"
"This," Emma said, signalling between the pair.
Regina felt that touch of anger again, of not quite connecting but almost, of her weakness for realizing she had wanted this comfortable routine.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," her tone had been clipped and she diverted her attention back to her coffee, blowing gently against the scalding liquid.
"Dammit, Regina," Emma had said, exasperated.
She watched from her periphery as Emma stood up and walked her way; found herself somewhat taken aback as the cup of coffee was pulled carefully, but resolutely, from her fingers and placed next to Emma's own.
"When did we start doing coffee? When did dinner with Henry evolve in to this?" Again Emma indicated between the pair.
Regina bristled under the younger woman's gaze and stood up, refusing to feel weakened in a lower position.
"If you don't like it, Miss Swan, you're free to leave at any time. You know where the front door is."
She turned to go, to hide the shame that maybe her happy ending hadn't included only Henry; to hide her fear that if she were right, her time was now measured in months. At her elbow she felt the white-hot burn as fingers dug in to her skin, forcibly turning her back once more.
"Tell me I'm wrong," the blonde woman growled out before her, breath hot against her cheek.
"You're wrong," Regina had answered, hating herself for the meekness in her voice.
She felt those white-hot fingers under her chin, turning her head to meet those forest green eyes.
"Look in my eyes and say it, Regina, tell me I'm wrong about this."
It was the hesitation that was her undoing, the small moment when she found she could not voice her disagreement. The blonde's lips descended against her own as she felt fingers threading through her hair and for the first time in her adult life, she surrendered.
o
She pushed open the door to the shop, the cheerful sound of the bell above her in stark contrast to her own mood.
"Ah, Your Majesty. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Save it, Rumpel. I want to know how to stop it." She placed her hands against the cool glass of the counter top, glaring at the man opposite.
"What is it you're wanting to stop?" he asked with feigned innocence.
"You know what," she spat.
"Everyone has a fate, dearie, a destiny they must fulfil. Maybe this is just your time," he said, a smirk upon his lips.
"I won't believe it."
His shoulders raised slightly in a shrug as he turned slightly from the Mayor. Almost as an afterthought he turned back.
"Well," he said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "there is always the thing you love most. Worked for you once before if I, ah, remember correctly." His eyes held a look of malicious intent.
Regina slammed her hands against the counter top before stalking out of the shop, the man's laughter playing at her ears.
o
"Hey Mom, is Emma coming arou..."
Regina jumped back from Emma as if she'd been burned at the sound of her son's voice. Shifting her eyes from the blonde in front of her, lips still kiss swollen from Regina's aggressiveness, she saw Henry standing in the kitchen with wide eyes and mouth agape.
Well, this could have gone better, she thought as she steeled herself against whatever explosive response would be coming her way. She watched as Henry's eyes moved between herself and Emma and found herself thoroughly shocked when a grin broke out across his features.
"Finally," he exhaled, much to the confusion of both the women standing there.
Without waiting to explain, he bounded out of the kitchen and it was only moments later she heard the television - the sound turned up louder than normal.
"That's one hell of an intuitive son you have there, Madam Mayor," Emma had said, sliding back against Regina, arms wrapping around the slender woman's waist and pulling her in close.
"We," Regina commented.
"Hmm?" was Emma's muffled reply as she left open-mouthed kisses against the Mayor's neck.
"I said, 'we', Miss Swan. 'One hell of an intuitive son we have'."
She felt her heart ache just a little bit more at the look of pure joy that passed across the blonde's features; break just a little bit more as she heard the clock chime the hour in the background.
o
"What does it do?" she asked, eyeing the rolled up parchment warily.
"Why it will deliver you from your fate, of course!"
She scanned the piece of paper before looking suspiciously at the golden man before her.
"And I'll get my happy ending?" she queried, hesitation in her voice.
"Guaranteed!" he quipped, fingers waggling nonsensically in front of him.
She turned the parchment over in her hand, weighing the decision heavily.
"What do you get out of it?"
"That's for me to know, dearie," he'd replied, grinning.
She glanced up at him one more time, searching his eyes for a lie.
"But it can be broken?" she asked, pushing him once more, her eyes never leaving his face.
"All things can be broken, Your Majesty. But this won't be, not until you've found your happy ending. And isn't that what this is all about?" He cocked his head to the side, looking expectantly at her.
She sighed deeply, looking over the paper for the last time before finally reaching her decision.
"Deal."
o
Regina lay awake, her mind refusing to rest as she listened to the soft, even breaths of the woman asleep beside her. Two months. That's all she had left; two months to stop the curse from unravelling and laying waste to everything she had, everything she was. She felt the clarity of her predicament with every new day; the love at the hands of the one person set to be her downfall.
She rolled on her side and took in the peaceful features of the sleeping blonde woman, the bare arch of her shoulder as it dipped towards her neck. Her skin was so smooth and Regina had ached to taste it all, to fill her senses with Emma.
With the softest of touches she ghosted her fingertips across Emma's bare shoulder, tracing a line down to her throat before following it up to her jaw. Ever so gently she cupped the younger woman's cheek before pushing a stray lock of blonde hair back over her ear. When had her life become so complicated?
With the softest of murmurs she whispered sadly to the sleeping woman.
"You'll be the death of me, Miss Swan."
With a last, lingering look the Mayor rolled over. In doing so she missed the blonde as she opened questioning, green eyes; missed the look of confusion that graced her features.
o
She lifted her head off the pillow, startled, as Emma walked through her bedroom door carrying a tray. The unmistakeable smell of pancakes wafted through the air, mingling with the bitter scent of coffee. What surprised Regina most was the single red rose that stood in a small vase in the uppermost corner of the tray and she found she had to tamp down on the pain that shot through to her heart at the sight.
"What's the occasion?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she sat up in bed, placing a few pillows behind her back.
"Do I need one?" Emma replied, a smile breaking out across her face.
The food looked delicious; and whilst no one could ever accuse Emma of being a five-star chef, she certainly had the basics well and truly down. It was only when she had eaten her fill and taken the rose from the vase that Emma spoke again.
"You know I'd do anything for you, right?" she asked, the seriousness of her tone causing Regina to look up from the flower.
"I.. Miss Swan, what is this about?"
Emma sighed and moved the tray to the dresser to allow herself to sit closer to Regina, grasping her hand within her own.
"You know I'd do anything for Henry too, right?"
"Miss Swan, where is this all coming from?"
The blonde woman exhaled softly as she traced idle patterns against Regina's hand.
"I just want you to know, you two are my world, my family. Anything I can do to keep us together, I just..." she paused briefly as if struggling with her words, "I just want you to know I'll do it. Whatever it takes."
And Regina fought the sting of pain behind her eyes as she brought her attention back to the rose in her hand, not trusting her voice to answer.
o
"Where's Henry?" Regina asked as she kicked off her high heels and closed the heavy wooden door behind her.
"Out at a friends house for the night," Emma grinned slyly as she advanced on the Mayor.
"Is that so?" Regina smirked as she unbuttoned her coat, hanging it up in the closet nearby.
It was as far as she made it before she felt Emma pushing her roughly back against the door, lips and tongue hot against her own; she was thankful for the solid timber behind her back, holding her up.
Hands became desperate with need as they found their way underneath clothing, the burning touch of heated skin against her fingertips. Teeth grazed her neck and she was unable to hold back the soft moan of desire as hands, not her own, tried hurriedly to work the zipper on her skirt.
"Gods, Emma," was all she could groan out as each layer of clothing was slowly divested from her, as open-mouthed kisses were laved upon her body and when the blonde dropped to her knees before her there was no holding back the shudder of arousal that slipped through the brunette's body.
She threaded her fingers through soft, blonde locks as she pulled Emma's head in closer to her heat. Trembling, she murmured Emma's name over and over, a litany of praise as lips and tongue and fingers brought her closer to the edge.
It was when Emma looked up at her, locking desire-filled green eyes with the almost coal coloured eyes of Regina that she felt herself start to fall apart.
"Come for me, Regina," Emma had whispered, a soft, reverent plea, her eyes never leaving Regina's face as her mouth resumed its work.
And with a strangled cry of Emma's name upon her lips, Regina came unravelled.
o
"Grace, her name is Grace. You should know that, you changed it," Jefferson spat, the anger within him palpable. "What do you want?"
"You're help," Regina answered, fighting the bile rising within her.
She had never intended to use Jefferson again, never intended on so many things. But as the months had become weeks and the weeks had slowly turned in to days, her fear had been compounded again and again.
And now, now she needed that apple. That god-forsaken apple. If she could just bring it back to this world. It was her last ditch effort, her final attempt at circumventing fate. A sleep so deep that maybe she would not pass through the veil, that maybe, as with all curses, it would be lifted with a kiss.
She had very little hope to cling to otherwise, if this did not work, she was at a loss as to what might.
o
She pulled the turnover from the oven and set it upon a rack to cool. She had debated eating the apple there and then, but selfishly she wanted one more night with her family, one more night just in case.
She had dinner all prepared, spaghetti and meatballs, the favourite of both Emma and Henry and had bought ice-cream for dessert - a luxury not often allowed in this house. She was prepared to spend the evening watching the worst movies that her son and Emma both seemed to love, would put their son to bed afterwards and give Emma a night that she wouldn't soon forget. Just in case, her mind reminded her once again.
With a deep sigh she headed upstairs, intent on taking a shower before either Emma or Henry arrived home.
As the jets of steaming hot water cascaded over her body, she failed to hear the front door open as two sets of footsteps moved through her house, failed to hear the greetings that were yelled from the kitchen.
What Regina didn't fail to hear, was the bone-chilling scream from Emma not two minutes later.
o
Three weeks. It had been three weeks since she had arrived in this god-forsaken world without magic. She had thought that without the lure of magic everything would have been easier; the knowledge that her demise was staved off for what may be eternity. But this place, it reeked of weakness, of despair; of a longing that would remain unfulfilled. The tingle of seductive magic that had always been crawling just beneath her skin was gone, its loss felt far greater than she would have imagined. This curse had brought so many people, had destroyed the happiness of others, but still she remained without the happy ending promised her.
The imp, she knew, would hold true to his word - even if she had no way to elicit any further information from him; she would get her happy ending before the curse on this small town would be lifted.
And so she did her make-up, found the best in designer clothes, and set about ruling these small people with their petty lives. It wasn't true happiness, but it was as close as she thought she might get.
o
It had seemed the world stopped turning as her realities crashed around her. They hadn't waited for an ambulance, they drove as fast as they could to the emergency room of the hospital. Together they watched as their son was wheeled away, a host of doctors and nurses looking worriedly down upon him. Emma's fingers threaded through her own and she held the hand tight as if it were the only thing anchoring her; perhaps it really was.
Neither could think of the words to say as they sat together in the uncomfortable chairs of the waiting room, every movement of a white coat at the other end setting them on edge. But no doctor came for them, no one to tell them if their son would be alright.
It was Emma who broke the silence first, finally, as was always to be expected. She stood up, pulling Regina by her hand into the most private area she could find - a janitor's supply cupboard.
"What was in that turnover, Regina? I know what Dr Whale said, but..." she trailed off, not meeting the brunette's eyes.
Regina slumped back against a cabinet, her head resting against the cold metal as tears threatened her eyes.
"Nothing they can fix," she said sadly, closing her eyes against reality.
"It's true, isn't it?" Emma looked up at her expectantly.
This hadn't been how Regina wanted to tell Emma the truth, had never envisioned it would be in a supply cupboard in a hospital whilst their son's life hung in the balance. She couldn't bear to bring another burden to this woman, couldn't tell her that her life was being measured in hours.
"What are you talking about?" she asked wearily, hoping Emma would drop the topic. But she should have known better, that wasn't the Emma Swan she knew and loved.
"It's true, isn't it?" Emma asked again, more forcefully than last time. "All of it."
Regina sighed as she nodded her head. "Yes," was all she said, her tone resigned to her fate.
And whatever Regina had been expecting, to feel Emma's hands threading through her hair as she rested her forehead against her own, was not one of them. Opening her eyes she saw concern upon Emma's face, mirrored in those forest green eyes that had captivated her heart so long ago.
"We have to do something," Emma had whispered, almost a plea; and Regina's heart broke as she saw a tear trail its way down Emma's cheek.
"The only thing I know to break a curse is a kiss," Regina exhaled softly, "but magic, it works differently here."
"What's it going to do to him?" Emma asked, panic barely concealed in her voice.
"I don't know," Regina admitted.
There had been a pause as the silence consumed the pair, each lost to their own thoughts; broken only when Emma spoke once again a few minutes later.
"Tell me why, Regina? Please?" Emma asked.
With trepidation Regina acquiesced to the one request, told her of her magic, told her of the other world, told her of the knowledge of her death.
"And when," Emma began, before choking back on unbidden tears. "When is your.." she couldn't finish the sentence.
Regina pulled her close, kissing her softly on her lips.
"I imagine when you break the curse on our son, my own curse will unravel as well. I doubt I will see much time after that."
She held Emma tighter in her arms as another fresh wave of tears rolled over the blonde woman in her arms. From beneath the sniffing, she heard Emma speak.
"And if I don't break the curse?"
"That's not an option, Miss Swan," Regina said, her voice holding a note of finality. "You will save our son." She wiped her thumb across Emma's cheeks, brushing away the most recent tears.
She lifted Emma's face to meet her own and smiled sadly at her.
"When you do, tell him I love him. Tell him I'm sorry. Tell him, tell him everything, Miss Swan." She kissed the top of Emma's head as she blinked back her own tears.
With another look in those beautiful, green eyes she took the younger woman by the hand and led them out in to the waiting room once more.
o
Regina pulled Henry's pillow tightly to her and felt her body ache. She had felt the shift in the atmosphere and knew the curse had been broken. With a growing sense of dread she watched as the clock ticked out it's time.
Four more minutes.
Looking around her son's room she picked up his socks and threw them in the hamper; felt the tears slide down her face as she put his toys back in to the toy box beside his bed. The fact that now may not be the most appropriate time to clean crossed her mind, but she summarily dismissed it, knowing she would not have the chance again.
Three more minutes.
She picked up his photo album from underneath the bed and flipped through the pages. It had gone missing from her room some months before and she had allowed him to keep the album, secretly happy that he wanted a recollection of how things were when he was younger. His smiling, happy face on Christmas; how handsome he had looked in his school uniform on his first day of school. She found a pen nearby and scribbled a quick "I love you" in the cover.
Two more minutes.
The tears rolled steadily down her cheeks as the lump in her throat made swallowing difficult. She hoped Emma would be able to care for Henry; at least she had made all the necessary arrangements regarding her finances. Even on a sheriff's salary, Henry would still want for nothing. The screech of tyres outside her mansion caused her to glance towards the window, the familiar yellow bug parked at an odd angle in the street. The slamming of the front door was soon accompanied by a pounding on the stairs of boots against carpet. The errant thought that Emma hadn't taken off her shoes crossed her mind.
One more minute.
Emma pushed in to the room, almost barrelling Regina over in her rush; the force of the impact pushing them both down against Henry's bed as Emma buried her face into Regina's neck.
"I won't let you go!" Emma all but screamed, defiant until the end.
"I'm afraid you may not have a choice," Regina replied, smoothing the younger woman's hair.
"No," Emma said, forcefully, "no you said curses are broken with kisses. You said it yourself!"
Regina glanced out at the town hall clock.
30 seconds more.
"Then kiss me, Emma," she pleaded.
Without a moment to lose, Emma's lips were on her own, fingers tangling in her dark locks as desperation thrummed through the pair; their salty tears blending together. No words were needed, nothing more could be said that their mouths were not already saying to each other.
And with crystal clear clarity, Regina heard the clock tower tick to 8:15.
o
A/N: Despite the fact my fics usually have people wind up dead, I don't actually like writing it. Therefore I have left this somewhat open ended for you, the reader, to determine yourselves whether you believe Emma was able to break the curse in this world without magic, or whether Regina's ending was indeed final. All endings were written, however I went with ambiguity - whatever you believe happened after the clock ticked to 8:15 is correct.