AN: Just a quick one-shot that came to me whilst on a four and a half hour plane journey. It was inspired by god-awful mosquito bites and a friend's recent bout of the chicken pox.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my bites and plane ticket.
An Untimely Illness
Regina itched. She scratched and she swatted. She rolled onto her side and scratched again, she kicked the duvet away and pried an eye open to glare at her bare arm. The arm was red raw from her incessant scratching and big red spots covered every inch of available skin. She shut both eyes tight and returned the offending limb to the coolness of the covers. It was no use, the cool of the duvet was gone and the angry red spots irritated her beyond belief. She rose from the bed and made haste towards the shower in the hope that the cold water would ease her discomfort. It did not.
She didn't bother with normal clothes, choosing instead to wear a pair of silk pyjamas since she expected she would not need to leave the house. She padded down to the kitchen itching and scratching as she went. It was still dark outside, and the clock on the wall told her it was a quarter to five, her son would not be up for hours. She itched again. One look in the hall mirror told her she was most definitely not 'the fairest of them all' today. She scratched her legs.
The kettle sounded so loud in the quiet of the morning she feared it would wake the sleeping occupants of the house. That was 'occupants' plural. This untimely illness had resulted in a new lodger for the week. Regina scratched again, this time almost spilling the cup of tea she held. As she drank her mind wandered to the events of the previous week.
It was a Monday morning and Regina and Henry were sitting in an awkward silence as they drove to school. She turned to her son, he was staring intently at the storybook in his lap.
"Henry dear, you're going to make yourself sick if you keep looking down like that." He merely nodded in acknowledgement and shut the book harder than strictly necessary. They sat in silence a few more moments before it was broken by the sound of nails scraping against bare skin. Henry scratched his arm and then his leg and then his arm again.
"Henry?" Scratch, scratch. Was the only reply. "Henry dear?" She tried again. This time rewarded with an actual sentence.
"Mom… I think I'm sick…"
Regina was a hypochondriac when it came to her son. When he was young if he had so much as a sniffle Regina would take him straight to the doctors and would not leave until completely reassured. So when she saw the red spots and blemishes adorning his arms and neck she paled. In the Enchanted Forest red spots could be anything from a mild discomfort to a fatality. Regina was on the phone to the doctor before Henry could say another thing.
It had turned out to be chicken pox.
Regina had never heard of the disease before, at least not by that name. Doctor Whale had given Henry a dose of anti-biotic and the instructions to stay in bed and try not to itch. Regina made sure he did just that.
The first day went by pretty smoothly, Henry slept most of the time and didn't leave his bed except to go to the toilet. Regina waited on him hand and foot and soothed him when he developed a fever. She had enjoyed the day immensely, getting to spend time with her son without the interruption of Miss. Swan.
It was day two when Regina started itching. At first it was just a mild discomfort that she fought to ignore, but then the spots started to appear and the itching intensified. Still she tried to ignore it, choosing instead to help her son get better. It wasn't until she started vomiting that she called Doctor Whale out. He gave her a stronger dose of the stuff he gave Henry with the same instructions, sleep, eat and don't scratch. It was proving difficult, she was feverish, and finding it hard to move around let alone look after her son.
By the time she gave into Henry's advice and called Miss. Swan she couldn't stand. Her arms and legs were raw from scratching and she and Henry were huddled in her bed pressed together for extra warmth. That was how Emma found them asleep not twenty minutes after she'd been called.
"I cannot believe you've never had the chicken pox!" Emma called from the kitchen as she prepared some soup (the kind from the can).
"Yes, well I don't get sick." Regina said indignantly, though her fever and sporadic vomiting suggested otherwise.
"Well it was bound to happen sometimes… Shall I bring you two your soup?" Mother and Son both replied with hoarse voices that they would indeed like to be bought their soup "You're lucky," Emma continued. "That I had the chicken pox a good twenty years ago, otherwise I'm not sure how you two would cope."
"Yes well, we appreciate your help Miss. Swan." And though she said it reluctantly and she was sure that Emma didn't really believe it she did appreciate the help of the younger woman. Regina hated being ill and didn't cope well with vomiting or itching or any other symptoms she was currently displaying. It also meant she didn't have the added stress of worrying about Henry, who, thankfully had a much milder case than she did. In fact his fever had died right down and the anti-biotic was doing wonders for his itching. On Regina however they seemed to have no effect.
It was Thursday when Henry first noticed the itching was gone. His spots had started to heal and he no longer felt ill. He claimed he was well enough to go to school but Regina felt otherwise, backed up fully by one Emma Swan. They told him he could go tomorrow if he felt like it.
They had settled into a routine. Regina and Henry would wake up around nine and Emma would make them breakfast in bed. Then, both mother and son would go back to sleep or read or once (to Regina delight) just talk about things, whist Emma went to the sheriff's station for a few hours. At half past one Emma would come back with lunch for them all from Grannies, Emma and Henry would wolf theirs down while Regina would take a few mouthfuls before vomiting again. Then she and Henry would curl up on the sofa and watch a film wrapped in duvets and itching all the while. They had watched twelve films in three days, more than Regina had remembered seeing in her life. On the first day they watched all four of the 'Indiana Jones films', the second day they watched the first four Harry Potter films and Thursday the watched the last four. Emma would come back from the station around nine with dinner only to find they were fast asleep. She would carry Henry to bed before waking Regina.
The first night she had been sick and delirious with a fever. Emma had sat by her bed the whole night as she puked repeatedly rubbing her back and soothing her as she scratched. She claimed it was because she did not want her son's mother to choke to death on her own vomit. She should not have told Regina that right after breakfast.
Henry was recovering remarkably well and he was hardly scratching by Thursday night. Both mothers agreed that he could go to school in the morning if he wished (Emma thought he should just bunk but he was having none of it). Even Regina had stopped vomiting long enough to have a proper meal, her spots however were causing her more and more grief as she itched and scratched and picked. And that was how Emma found her at five o'clock Friday morning.
"Regina! Do you realise the time? Getting up early isn't going to make those spots clear up any quicker." Emma gave her the glare she usually reserved for Henry when he was being rebellious.
"I'm not a child Miss. Swan! I can look after myself perfectly well thank you." She itched her arm involuntarily.
"Of course you can Regina. Why don't you just go about your mayoral business as usual? I'm sure no one will mind the infectious disease you're currently carrying." Regina just raised an eyebrow in response. The look was often formidable, but, today it just looked feeble. "You know Regina, I honestly thought you would be a more stubborn sick person, trying to get out of the house and doing things yourself. This Regina is quite bizarre." It was true, even Henry had commented on it. When she was ill Regina just seemed to lack all her usual sass. Her sarcastic remarks were replaced with grunts and poor expressions, her voice was deeper than usual and her whole manor seemed less foreboding. She was complacent and rarely made a fuss. She didn't even seemed to mid that Emma was treating her like a five year old. The only thing that didn't differ were the 'Miss. Swan's.
"Regina why don't you just go back to bed? You're not helping yourself by being up, and you look exhausted." It was true. The illness had really taken it out of her. Her usually coiffed hair was a mass of matted tangles, she had no make up on and her face was covered in angry pox, she had big dark bags under her eyes and her nose was a blotchy red.
"I assure you Miss. Swan, I'm perfectly fine. I just need to get back on my feet." The more stubborn Regina was starting to show through again and Emma feared she might have a harder time the next few days. However her thoughts were rewarded with Regina scratching her bare stomach despite Emma's presence and she was assured that there was hope yet.
"Fine. If you won't go back to bed at least sit on the couch and I'll make you something to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Please, Regina. You have to eat. I swear you've hardly touched half the food I've given you. It's not good for your health."
"Fine, fine. If it shuts you up I will go and lie down and eat whatever you throw at me. Are you happy now?"
"Yes, now go, go. I'll be with you in a minute." She ushered Regina out of the kitchen and got to work.
Twenty minutes later Emma plonked herself down on top of Regina's feet, emitting a hiss of pain from the older woman. She carried two plates and thrust one in front of Regina's face.
"For you. Henry said they're your favourite."
The smell made her mouth water as she took in the breakfast. Stacked on her plate were small but delicious looking pancakes. They were, quite frankly, the best thing that Regina had seen all week. They were covered in stewed apples and syrup and smelt divine.
Forgetting all courtesies she took a large bite and let out a groan that caused Emma to give her a strange look.
"Thank you Miss. Swan… Uh, Emma. Thank you Emma. Henry was right, these are my favourite and I must confess I haven't had any this good in a very long time." Emma smiled and decided she liked 'ill Regina' a little more every day.
"You're welcome Regina. And quite frankly I'm pleased I've found something you can stomach." She grinned and tucked into her own stack of pancakes, being careful not to spill a morsel on Regina's couch lest she develop a sudden wave of sass and break the peace. They ate in a comfortable silence for the next ten minutes, the only sound being cutlery on plates and the scraping of Regina's nails.
When both plates were clear it was not quite six and both women were at loss of things to do and say. They hadn't been alone since the unfortunate illness struck and the atmosphere in the room was awkward.
Regina scratched.
"So," Emma started. It was rare that she and Regina were alone in a room, and when they were, more often than not they were at each other's throats. "Shall I put on a film?" Regina nodded thinking of no better way to lift the tension. It was only when Emma rose to put the film on that Regina felt the blood flow back to her feet. She must've been sitting on them for a good fifteen minutes and the sensation was rather unpleasant. Emma must've sensed her discomfort as she turned away from the film.
"I can sit in the chair, if you like?" The only other seat in the room was a hard chair by the coffee table, it was uncomfortable and hurt your bum, but Emma didn't mind.
"Don't be silly Miss. Sw… Emma. I'll budge up and you can sit with me." The words were out of her mouth before she even registered what she was saying. She was about to take it back, tell Emma that it didn't matter where she sat, when she felt the duvet pull back and Emma hop in. Her legs covered Regina's and they sat arm to arm.
"Thanks, that chair's bloody uncomfortable. I would suggest something squishy next time you invest in furnishings." They settled down as the film started and watched intently. At least Emma watched. Regina had dosed off not ten minutes in, her head resting on Emma's shoulder as she snored lightly. Emma knew she should move. She knew that having her supposed 'arch enemy' and the mother of her son practically asleep on her lap was a bad move and wrong on so many levels, but she did nothing.
They were in the same position an hour later when Henry found them.
His mom was snoring, covered in red, itchy pox and sprawled across the younger woman, who was watching a film and stealing glances. He knew he should interrupt or at least make his presence known but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He made his own breakfast that morning.
In fact, it was only when he saw that they would be late for school that he returned to the living room.
This time the scene was different still. Regina was still sprawled across Emma's lower body and Emma herself was draped over the edge of the couch. Both women were fast asleep with their arms wrapped around the other. The TV was playing on loop in the background and the remote was discarded amongst the dirty plates and cutlery.
It was a strange sight to behold and Henry felt it necessary to capture it before it was disturbed. With the photo stored safely on his camera he approached the sleeping adults.
"Moms." He whispered at first but it had no effect. So he tried again, this time louder. "Hey, moms!" Both women shot up and their heads connected with a hollow 'thunk'. Both women groaned and Emma cussed.
"Mm… 'Sappening?" Regina mumbled rubbing her eyes and scratching at her face. Then suddenly she seemed to realise the position she was in. Sitting on Emma's lap, wrapped in a duvet with her pyjama shirt falling off her shoulder. Her cheeks went bright pink as she looked first at her son and then his mother. "Ah… Henry… I was uh, just…" She stuttered not knowing what to do or say and still not removing herself from Miss. Swans lap. Henry just raised an eyebrow in the perfect imitation of his mother.
"I just thought I'd let you know I'm going to be late for school." With that he smirked and turned on his heel leaving the two woman flushed and embarrassed.
"I um…" Emma paused not used to being lost for words.
"Yes, well…" Regina looked at her hands.
"This is awkward."
"Yes, it is."
"I'm going to take Henry to school now…"
"Good idea." There was a long, awkward pause before Emma spoke again.
"Uh, Regina?"
"Yes Miss. Swan?"
"Do you think you could get off my lap? Please."