So this hit me out of the blue last night as I was trying to go to sleep after watching the incredible season finale. I hope you enjoy it, and yes—it will be continued in a series of drabbles, probably 3-4 additional chapters. Dedicated to gazelle-legs, whose OQ prompt will eventually be fulfilled in this short story.
There is no way in hell she is opening the door.
For days she has isolated herself, withdrawing into her house, fastening thick drapes, ignoring her phone, dwelling in silence. She counts ticks of the clock, stares at passing shadows on the ceiling, hears every creak as walls settle, lays immobile on her bed.
She wants to see no one. It hurts too damn much.
But the pounding is insistent, and it rattles in her head, knocking against her temples with the force of a jackhammer. Perhaps it's Henry, she thinks, the only person whose company she can stomach, the only person in her life who now matters.
Heis no longer a part of her life…not since his wife emerged from a fractured past, not since the breath was torn from her lungs as he cried out the name of a dead woman.
Marion.
His wife now living because of Emma's interference, her life now dead in remission for her sins. God, what a fool she has been to think she could be happy, truly and inexplicably happy.
Villains aren't afforded happy endings, or even second chances, it would seem.
In his arms, she had felt youthful, giggly even as sensations long forgotten tickled her ribs like champagne, making her giddy and light, making her feel protected and warm. Shards of the girl she had been refastened into something new, something glorious and brilliant that lit her from within. But it was fragile, shattering almost the moment they had walked into Granny's as jagged edges marked her soul yet again, carving anguish into hope, leaving her too bruised to move.
Memories of kisses linger like honey on her tongue, the feel of hot hands stroking her skin, the sensation of being cherished so overwhelming it…it…
It hurts.
She wills herself to feel nothing, attempting to discipline her mind even while her heart rebels stubbornly, and she wraps a mantle of cold numbness around her insides, sealing herself off from anything and anyone who could maim her yet again. There are only so many mortal wounds a person can survive, and she has endured more than her share. No wonder her mother ripped out her own heart.
The pounding continues.
"I'm coming," she yells, knowing the offending party cannot hear her from her bedroom, but not giving a damn. She thrusts her body from her bed, and glides down the staircase, peering out to see who dares to disturb her solitude.
Archie? What the hell is he doing here?
"What do you want?" she questions as the door is slung open, and she purposely casts him a look few mortals can withstand. If he asks her about her emotional well-being, she will transform him back into a cricket on the spot.
"Regina," he states nervously, the fear in his eyes somewhat gratifying. "Thank God you answered."
"This had better be worth my time," she growls, narrowing her gaze even further. "I don't want to see anyone, especially not you."
He shuffles nervously in front of her, swallowing audibly.
"I'm aware of that, Regina," he stutters. "And I wouldn't disturb you if it weren't an emergency."
An emergency? Oh, God.
"Is Henry alright?"
The question flies out of her with urgency, her hand clutching her chest.
"Yes," he assures her. "Henry's fine, at least for now."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She is in no mood to play guessing games, especially where her son is concerned.
"It means we have a problem," Archie expounds, clinching his hands nervously. "People are sick, Regina, very sick. And we don't know why."
"I'm not Dr. Whale," she bites, laying her hand on the door. "This is his area of expertise, not mine. Now if you'll excuse me—"
"He can't figure it out," Archie answers hastily. "None of the doctors can." He pauses, swallowing hard. "Regina, people are dying from a disease no one can identify. And it's spreading fast."
Spreading. Oh, God…Henry.
Robin.
"And you think I can help?"
Her tone is uncertain, and her pulse begins to race.
"People are beginning to believe it may be a curse, some sort of residual effect from the time portal Zelena opened, or even an illness brought back from the past." His expression chills her blood, as his hands fidget nervously. "We were hoping you might know what to do."
She senses there is more, something dreadful he is withholding.
"What are you not telling me?"
He stares at her guiltily, measuring his words.
"It's Roland. He has the worst case of it. Dr. Whale is afraid he doesn't have much time left."
Roland…God, not Roland, not a child,nothis child. Her heart skips a beat as an icy dread spikes across her limbs.
"And Robin?"
The words are barely audible, and time hovers motionless as she awaits his answer.
"He's sick, too," Archie confirms, his statement slamming into her with the force of a curse. "But not as critically as the boy."
Her body is trembling, unable to consider the possibility that either of them will die. They can't, they won't—she'll make certain of it.
"Where are they?"
"At the hospital," he answers, moving back as she steps out, slamming the door shut behind her. "Does this mean you'll help?"
She doesn't answer, there isn't time. Her feet move with urgency, her eyes and mind focused, her path set.
Roland. Robin. She will help them. She must.
The sky seems oddly overcast, but there is no scent of impending rain, no wind ushering in a storm. Something is not right, she realizes, and her skin tingles at the presence of a specter that shouldn't be. It bears the texture of something ancient, something forbidden.
Something cursed.
She begins to run, her lungs feeling almost leaden as if the air itself is thinning. Her feet carry her into the hospital, and she grabs the first orderly she sees, holding his lapels in tight fists as she watches him shrink back in fear.
"Roland—the boy who is so sick—where is he?"
It is then she registers that he is wearing a mask. Everyone is wearing a mask.
"Second floor," he breathes. "Isolation wing. But I wouldn't go up there if I were you."
She has already released the man, and dashes to the stairwell, too impatient to wait for the elevator, terrified she might be too late. Nothing can happen to the boy, she chants internally, wearing these thoughts like a mantra across her conscious mind.
Nothing can happen to him.
She spies Little John looking pale and shaken, and she is certain his mask is doing him no good, that he has already has contracted whatever malady is plaguing this town. There is a near deadness in his eyes that screams at her, that makes her stomach quiver.
"Where is he—Roland?"
The large man gestures to a room directly in front of them, a room that wreaks of inescapable darkness, and she feels invisible wisps of smoke fasten around her ankles, dragging her inside almost against her will. Her skin grows cold even as her pores burn feverishly, approaching an enemy she has no idea how to fight.
There is magic here, dark magic, but it is beyond her realm of knowledge, prickling the hairs on her neck painfully as it hovers just out of her grasp. She closes her eyes, attempting to focus on secrets that hum tantalizingly in her ear, yet they chant in an unknown tongue, keening an ancient melody too powerful to drown out.
Limbs begin to numb as she draws closer, as if all life is being sucked into a vacuum, one she cannot see but can sense with every hair on her body. The boy is on the bed, so lifeless her heart stills at the sight of him, but she somehow senses he lives.
"Regina."
Her heart cracks open.
She cannot look at him, but she has to. He is poison to her blood yet life to her lungs, and she finally meets his eyes, eyes heavy with grief and ashen with illness.
"Can you help him? Can you help Roland?"
He fears to hope, yet he must. This is his son, his heart, his everything lying on the verge of death.
God help her…as if God would listen to the pleas of a villain.
"I don't know," she whispers, wondering if Robin can hear what she hears, if he can sense what she feels. "But I'll fight for him with everything I have."
Penny for your thoughts?