Flash Point
A/N: Second submission for the 2017 OQ Prompt Party. This one really got away from me. I'm tempted to continue this little AU in the future, if there's interest.
Based on prompt #47: Regina's house/apartment is on fire. Lt. Robin Locksley and his men save her and Henry. She goes over to the firehouse to thank them properly and ends up inviting Robin for dinner. I played a little fast and loose with this one, but it inspired me.
One of the few things Regina remembered about one of the most terrifying nights of her life was tucking her son into bed after he begged her to read him an extra chapter of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. The only other thing she could remember – even weeks later – was the sound of screaming. Not just any screaming. Henry, her son, her baby, screaming at the top of his lungs for her in the middle of the night.
"Mom! Mom wake up! MOM, HELP ME!"
The sound jolted Regina out of a deep sleep and she had rolled out of bed to her feet without even opening her eyes first. Rubbing at her face fiercely, Regina quickly realized that the reason she couldn't see had nothing to do with her fatigue.
The bedroom was engulfed in dark, black smoke that obscured her view entirely.
"Hen…" Regina's attempt to yell for her son was instantly cut-off by a deep, rasping cough. Thick, acrid smoke coated her throat and made her eyes water. She fumbled blindly through her room, reaching out desperately for the door.
"Mom! Please hurry!" Henry shouted.
Regina tried again to answer his plea, but she couldn't get a single sound to escape her throat without hacking deeply. Her lungs burned and she could feel her forehead beginning to sweat from the heat.
Her hand finally landed somewhere on the wall, where she felt her way over to the bedroom door. It seemed like with every breath she took, she became more and more lightheaded and unfocused. Regina fleetingly wondered how long she and Henry had been asleep while their home suddenly became a smoke-filled funhouse from hell.
Finally, Regina felt the familiar wood of her bedroom door. Her left hand immediately went to the doorknob and pulled.
"Shit!" She hissed in pain, pulling her hand away from the sizzling metal handle. With the door open, a rush of more smoke wafted into the room and assaulted Regina's senses once again.
Ignoring the searing pain in her hand, Regina surged forward through the hallway toward Henry's room. To her horror, the entirety of Henry's bedroom door was engulfed in flames.
"HENRY?!" She screeched as loudly as her lungs would allow.
Silence. The only response was the vicious sound of crackling, burning wood.
Deciding there was no time to waste, Regina rolled up the sleeves of her pajama shirt and reached for the handle of Henry's door with her already injured hand.
Regina gritted her teeth as the bright orange flames mercilessly licked at her skin. She swore she could hear sizzling as her palm made contact with the white-hot doorknob.
A scream ripped from somewhere deep inside Regina's chest as she wrenched the flaming door open. Cradling her throbbing hand to her chest, she ran through the smoke and flames to find her son.
"Henry!" Her voice was raw and desperate. Flames were crawling up far wall, reaching into her eight-year-old's bedroom through the window. Henry was nowhere to be found, his blankets askew on the bed with no sign of where he had gone.
"Mo…?" The tiniest, raspiest sound from the closet was absolute music to Regina's ears.
Of course. Ever since Henry was three, he had taken refuge in his closet whenever he was scared. Whether it was monsters under the bed, a thunderstorm, or a bad dream, Regina would often find her son curled up among the shoeboxes and cuddling his stuffed rabbit for comfort.
Regina tore open the closet door and dropped to her knees. Henry was curled up in the corner, a Power Rangers blanket wrapped around his cowering frame. Wet tear tracks trailed down his face, making the thin sheen of soot stand out against his flushed cheeks.
"Mom?" Henry asked groggily, lifting his head from his folded arms.
Regina immediately scooped him into her arms. She squeezed him tightly, loosening her grip only to search him for possible injuries.
"Are you okay? Does anything hurt?" She pulled back enough to look him in the eye.
Henry shook his head.
"I heard a noise that woke me up and then I smelled smoke!" Tears gathered in his eyes again. "I wanted to come get you but my door was on fire. I kept shouting for you, but I started coughing and the fire kept getting closer to my bed. I went in the closet because I was afraid and too sleepy…"
"Henry," Regina cut him off firmly. "It's going to be okay. But we have to get out of the house right now. Remember how we practiced fire drills when you were little?"
He nodded, his eyes glazed. "We're supposed to get outside and meet at your apple tree."
"That's right," She encouraged. "So we're going to figure out a way to get outside to safety."
Henry coughed deeply, making Regina wince. "But I'm so sleepy, Mom." His little body swayed slightly as he looked at her with tearful, hazy eyes.
"You can't sleep right now," She snapped more forcefully than she intended. "We have to get outside first and then you can rest, okay?"
He nodded again, his little body swaying back and forth like he was going to pass out. Regina felt her eyes water from the combination of smoke, heat and absolute terror. She blinked furiously, hoping to hide her tears from Henry.
Regina quickly glanced back at the flaming bedroom and formulated a plan. "We're going to have to crawl out to the stairs because of the smoke. I'm going to lead the way to make sure there's a clear path. I want you to hold onto my hand so that we don't get separated in the smoke. Can you do that?"
"I think so," Henry hacked again, deep and rasping. Regina braced an arm around his back to support him through the violent cough.
"Okay, hold on tight. And be careful not to touch anything." She shifted onto all fours, waiting until she felt Henry's small hand grip her uninjured palm. The smoke was blinding but there was no time to waste. Regina started crawling forward as fast as she could with Henry trailing slightly behind her.
His bedroom door was burned black, but thankfully the floor was still mostly clear. She stretched her free arm out as far as she could possibly reach to check for obstructions before guiding Henry through the doorway in front of her. Regina would forever be grateful for that split second decision to encourage Henry to go first.
Just as Henry made it into the hallway, a horrible cracking noise startled both mother and son. By the time either realized what was happening, it was too late. Henry's heavy, inflamed bookcase toppled over and landed directly on top of Regina.
"MOM!" Henry's traumatized shout did nothing to mask the earsplitting, agonized scream from Regina. If the window hadn't already been destroyed, the force of her shriek surely would have shattered glass.
Henry squeezed her hand with all his might, having never loosened his grip after his mother had told him to hang on tight. Tears flowed down his cheeks as hysterical sobs emerged from his aching throat.
Regina laid flat on her stomach, utterly unable to move. The bookcase had thoroughly pinned her to the floor. From the shooting, white-hot pain she could feel radiating from her calf, at least one of her legs was definitely broken. Thankfully the flames hadn't yet ravaged through the bookcase to reach her thoroughly helpless lower half. She touched her forehead to the soft, carpeted floor in complete desperation and defeat. It was her job to protect her son and she was failing spectacularly.
"Mom, are you alright?" Henry's sobbed as he tugged on her arm. His crying put a stop to her pity party at once. She still needed to get him out of the house before it was too late.
"I'm fine, Sweetheart," Regina managed a watery smile that obviously did not convince him. "Everything is going to be okay."
"But your legs!" An alarming wheezing sound cut him off. Henry gasped in a frantic attempt to catch his breath.
"Shh, Henry, listen to me," Regina ran her thumb over his knuckles. "I need you to do something very important for me. Do you think you can do that?"
"I…guess…so," He wheezed around his sobs, nearly hyperventilating.
Despite the throbbing burn on her left hand, Regina delicately used an injured finger to lift Henry's chin. She stared into his red, teary eyes and felt an overwhelming rush of pure affection for this little boy who had healed her heart and touched her soul from the moment she first held him.
"My brave little prince," She smiled, warm and genuine this time. "I need you to crawl out into the hallway and see if you can get down the stairs. If you can, I want you to go downstairs and get outside in any way possible. Even if you have to go out a window. Can you do that for me?"
Henry had calmed slightly at the familiar softness of his mother's voice, despite the circumstances. "I don't wanna go alone. You're supposed to come with me."
"I will," She assured him. "I'm going to meet you at my apple tree just like I promised. But I need you to go ahead because I have to move this bookcase first."
"I could help you move it!"
"No, Honey. It's too dangerous," Regina chided lightly. "I need you to get outside into the fresh air. Then you can call 911 to come help us. Just like we practiced, remember?"
Henry's bottom lip jutted out, looking every bit as he had when he was two and begged her to let him eat ice cream for breakfast. "Okay, I'll go."
No words had ever made Regina happier in her life. "I know you can do it, Henry. I believe in you."
Henry wrapped his arms around her neck in an awkward hug. "I'll get help for you, Mom. I promise."
"I know you will, Darling," Regina whispered, only just managing to not let her tears fall. She watched with bated breath as Henry got down on all fours and crawled out of sight.
Regina wasn't sure how much time passed after she sent Henry away to safety. She had attempted to call out to him to see if he had made it downstairs, but the scratching in her throat was too great. Her voice was barely a rasp and every breath felt like a chore.
Still determined to find a way out of the situation, Regina planted her elbows in the carpet and tried to pull herself out from under the bookshelf. She only succeeded in jolting her injured lower half, which tore a shattering cry from her already strained throat.
"Hello?" A voice echoed from downstairs.
For a moment, Regina wondered if she was hallucinating the sound. She thought she could hear sirens in the distance, but her lightheadedness made it impossible to tell if the noise was real.
"Hello? Is anyone still inside?" The voice repeated in a louder tone. A warm, airy feeling of hope bubbled up inside her chest. Maybe she wasn't just hearing things after all.
"Upstairs!" Regina hollered with all her might. She heard footsteps getting closer, as well as a curious whooshing sound that she couldn't place.
"Where are you? Can you hear my voice? Make some kind of noise you can so I can get to you," The male voice shouted.
"In the bedroom!" She yelled once more. "I'm trapped."
The footsteps hastened further up the stairs and down the hallway. Regina had never seen anything more miraculous than the sight of a firefighter's boots standing inches from her face. He crouched down, making as much eye contact as he could through his thick helmet.
"My name is Robin. I'm going to get you out of here. What's your name?" His brogue was music to her ears.
"My name is Regina," She wheezed. Robin the Firefighter opened his mouth to say something but Regina interrupted. "Wait, please. My son. Is he okay? Did you see him…?"
"You mean Henry? The boy is perfectly fine," Robin assured her. "He was with one of your neighbors when he called us for help. A couple of my men are already taking him to the hospital now."
Regina smiled to herself, infinitely grateful that at least Henry was safe. But the moment didn't last for long.
"Shield your face for a second. I have a fire extinguisher and I need to put out that bookcase before I try to move it." Regina did as instructed and white foam whooshed from the extinguisher, putting out the flames before they could do any more harm to her prone form.
"Are you in any pain, milady?" Robin asked.
Regina nodded. "My right leg. I think it's broken."
"Alright. I'm going to do the best I can to move this bookshelf without hurting you. Let me know if it's too much and we'll try it another way."
"I don't care. Just get this goddamn thing off of me!" Regina growled.
Robin chuckled as he gripped the bookshelf. "Alright. On the count of three."
"One." Regina closed her eyes.
"Two." Every muscle in her body tensed in anticipation.
"Three." She bit down hard on her lower lip as Robin hefted the bookcase off of her. Regina felt lighter at once, but her leg throbbed angrily. She turned her head to look back at her legs, but the motion made her vision blur alarmingly.
Noticing her predicament, Robin pulled a portable oxygen mask out of his pack and placed it over her nose and mouth. "Try to breathe shallowly at first. It'll help clear your head."
Regina inhaled slowly, fresh air filling her lungs for the first time in what felt like days.
"You're doing really well, Regina," He ran a hand over her sooty, sweaty hair in a soothing gesture. "I'm going to pick you up so we can get you out of here. Do you think you can handle it?"
"Absolutely," She said firmly. "Anything to get the hell out of here."
Robin quirked a smile. Slowly and carefully, Robin helped Regina turn onto her back before lifting her off the ground. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck while he supported her back and knees. She hissed in pain as his steps jostled her leg.
As soon as they exited the front door, a dozen other firefighters and paramedics swarmed them. Robin laid Regina down delicately onto a waiting gurney.
"Don't worry. You're going to be out of here and back with your son in no time," Robin said as he pulled his helmet off.
Regina looked up into his face, fully seeing him for the first time. His sandy blonde hair was tousled and his face was flushed from the heat. She barely even registered the medics poking and prodding her, shining penlights in her eyes and starting IVs. All she could do was stare into the deep, mesmerizing blue eyes of her savior as she slowly slipped out of consciousness.
Regina woke at the hospital two hours later with Henry curled into her side. He had refused to stay in his own bed the second he heard that his mother had been brought in. Her injuries hadn't been nearly as extensive as they could have been – she suffered a fractured fibula, a severely bruised ankle, an irritated trachea from smoke inhalation and a nasty second degree burn on her left hand.
None of it mattered to Regina. She would go through it all again and then some as long as Henry made it out alive. Had the bookcase fallen on him instead, there was no telling how tragic the night might have ended. Regina shuddered at the thought. As it was, Henry only had a bit of a headache, a cough and a sore throat from the smoke. Her little prince was safe and that was all she cared about.
The healing process was slow and difficult for both mother and son. The passing weeks were fraught with tension and anxiety. Regina was often frustrated with having to use a crutch and not having the use of her left hand. It meant she was dependent on others, which made her irritable and extremely uncomfortable.
Henry had constant nightmares about the fire. He would wake up sweaty and terrified, clinging to Regina in fear that she would disappear if he let go. His screaming had woken Mary-Margaret and David numerous times in the few weeks that they had stayed with them. Regina knew he would need to resume sessions with Archie sooner rather than later.
Since smoke and flames had heavily damaged the entire East wing of the house, Regina and Henry had taken up a more permanent residence at Granny's until repairs could be made.
"No charge," The old woman had insisted. "You both have been through enough."
Regina was touched by Granny's generosity, but offered to help around the diner as much as she could to earn her keep.
"I don't need a one-handed gimp 'helping' me," Granny laughed. "Besides, the new guy in town already offered to help out while he's got a room upstairs too."
"New guy?" Regina asked.
"The new Lieutenant firefighter in to replace Graham," The older woman replied. "He's quite a looker. English accent too."
"You mean Robin?" Henry piped up. "That's the guy who saved Mom!"
"Did I hear someone say my name?"
Regina's eyes widened as the said "looker with an English accent" made his way into the diner. She smoothed down her skirt with a hand before mentally chastising herself for such foolishness. She had one hand wrapped up in gauze, a giant fracture boot on her leg and a crutch under her right arm. Not exactly attractive attire. Plus, this was the same man who saw her crying, sweaty, pained and panicked while trapped in a fire. Her feminine mystique was out the window.
"Regina," Robin's voice softened once he saw her. "How are you?"
"Fine," She attempted a gracious little nod. "Much better than the last time we saw each other."
"I'm glad," His dimpled smile stirred something in Regina's stomach. "Have you eaten yet? I'd be happy to treat you both to breakfast."
"We already ate, actually," Regina ruffled Henry's hair affectionately. "This one couldn't wait any longer for chocolate chip pancakes."
"Ah, the boy has good taste! My son loves Granny's pancakes too."
"You have a son?" Henry asked excitedly.
"I do. Roland's a little bit younger than you, but I bet you two would get along well," Robin seemed to beam with pride when talking about his son. It only endeared him even more to Regina.
"Why don't you and your son come over for dinner?" The invitation was out before Regina even fully realized what she was saying. "We're already technically neighbors since we're both staying upstairs. And it's the least I could do after what you've done for Henry and me."
Mischief sparked in Robin's eyes. "Well, I don't know that I could possibly accept without knowing what's on the menu. Do you cook?"
"Do I cook?" Regina raised a lethal eyebrow. "I'll have you know that I make a mean lasagna that will put any pathetic firehouse meal to shame."
"Is that a challenge?" He smirked.
"Yes," Regina raised her chin defiantly, every inch a royal.
"Challenge accepted, milady," Robin grinned. "Roland and I would love to come over for dinner tonight. But, in return, you have to come for dinner at the firehouse this weekend. I'm making chili and cornbread that will have you taking back that statement about 'pathetic firehouse' food."
"You're on, Hotshot," Regina pursed her lips to avoid breaking into a megawatt smile.
"I'm thrilled, Your Majesty," He responded playfully.
Their eyes met and Regina found herself getting lost in Robin's eyes just as she had that fateful night when he had saved her life. Despite her better judgment, Regina found herself looking forward to kindling the sparks between them until they were both ablaze.
Thanks for reading!