a/n: Title is from "After the Storm" by Mumford and Sons.
(1991)
"regina." emma says, and she's likely imagining the wonder in her voice behind the surprise. "how are…you–"
she hears pieces of chatter behind her, two third year girls on their first hogsmeade trip–let's check out honeydukes first, yeah? then we'll go to spintwitches–but the rest of the cacophony fades into winter as emma swan comes into brilliant focus.
(she's wearing that muggle-style red leather jacket. she has more lines dipping into her face)
"ms. swan." she says, hoping the professional moniker hides any catch of emotion in her throat. "i heard you were back in town."
emma steps forward, opens her mouth and closes it, does not let go of her gaze for one moment. regina wants this moment to be over. she doesn't want to be angry anymore. she wants the years to fade in the strength of them, but instead–
"how did you…..you were one of them! you…how are you here?"
she wants–
regina steps closer to her, feels her heart break at the way emma takes a step back, and adds a sneer to her face. "did you really never pick up a damn daily prophet wherever you ran to?"
she furrows a brow. "what are you talking about?"
regina hears a peal of laughter from behind her. it's not worth it. not here. "ask your friend, mary-margaret. or ruby. i have supplies to pick up, and classes to teach. and a son to raise."
emma's eyes turn bright. "henry?"
(emma's hands meet around her middle. "hey, you were acting weird at dinner, what's up?"
she reaches around to kiss her properly, and lets her own hand rest on her cheek. she doesn't think about snakes, or mothers, or sisters, or. or.
"just tired. let's go to bed.")
(1981)
the truth is: she was never sent to azkaban, despite what the papers liked to say. just a holding cell in the auror's office until her affiliation with the death eaters is made false and her order position clarified. it takes weeks of meetings and hearings and truth serum. the cell is cold and brittle with an anti-spell charm, and she doesn't stop shivering until henry is placed in her arms.
it's been a year since she's seen him, placed a kiss on his forehead while ignoring the pulsing hurt of the dark mark. he still remembers her.
"mommy," he says, face pressed into her shoulder. "mommy, ma went away. she went away–"
the cold returns, a sharp twist in her stomach. "she went what?"
she looks at marian, who'd brought him first thing in the morning to meet her, and she gives a hesitant, eyebrows-furrowed nod. "we're trying to find her, so we can tell her the double-agent news. but you know. it's emma."
tears burn in her eyes. she wipes them away before henry can see. "yes. i know emma."
(1991)
"mom," henry begins on one of their saturday brunches. "can i see emma?"
she nearly spits out her coffee. "where–"
"i overheard aunt ruby talking about how she was back to aunt marian by floo when she was over last weekend."
she swallows. curses ruby into the bottom of the lake. "i didn't know if you remembered her."
he shrugs, frowns into his butter-and-jammed toast. "i was three, not a baby. she used to read to me, right? she did voices for the characters."
"she did" she says, and deflates. "i'm sorry we stopped talking about her."
he shrugs again. "you were really sad that she left. it makes sense that you wouldn't want to talk about her."
"it does, but that doesn't make it okay. she was your mother too, and then she…wasn't. you can talk to me anytime you're feeling sad about that, sweetheart. we can be sad with each other." she reaches out a hand to him, a question, and he takes it.
"you don't like to be sad with people." he says, pointedly. "even aunt ruby and aunt marian."
"you're right." she says, and squeezes his hand. she thinks about all the hands that have squeezed hers, before she thought she wanted them. "but you're not just people, you're my son. my mother didn't want me to be sad with her, and that left me….it wasn't good."
henry nods. "that's why she's not allowed over even though she's not a death eater anymore."
regina almost snorts. her mother wasn't fooling anyone. "yes."
he lets go of her hand and stares at his toast again. "i still…remember her doing the voices for the characters in the beedle and the bard. kind of. i'm mad, but. i don't know. it's a lot of stuff all at the same time."
she strokes his hair. "that's okay, henry. that's okay."
"so, can i see her? not yet, but i think soon."
regina breathes out. "perhaps."
(she knows it's her. it has to be her. no one else has a long blonde braid, and no one else is still throwing hexes.
they meet eyes, and regina wishes this moment could be theirs. she wants to go home with emma swan, and spell the dark mark from her arm with her hand tightly held.
someone stops emma as her wand raises. they walk away. regina can hear her own breathing, in-out, in-out.)
(1981)
after saying goodnight to henry, it feels like the dementors gave her the kiss anyway. everything sharp in her stomach turned grey and dull. all she can bring herself to want is sleep.
"i'm fine." she says to eugenia lucas when she goes downstairs and sees her working on a potion at the table, hating the pity on her face.
"marian and ruby don't seem to think so, kiddo."
"marian and ruby don't know anything." she says, opening a cabinet. she sees firewhiskey, and pulls out cider. she turns around and sees a raised eyebrow. "sorry, eugenia. i've had a long–" (week, year) "–day."
"granny is just fine with me."
she raises her own brow. "you're ruby's granny."
eugenia sighs, and adds a final sprig of something into the potion. it turns a bright purple. "i think i'm everyone in the order's granny. that includes you too."
"ask the daily prophet that, and they'll say you support the dark lord." she swallows, like she took a swig of firewhiskey anyway. "voldemort. voldemort."
eugenia doesn't flinch. "they'll catch up. you're a hero, regina mills."
she snorts. "don't heroes usually have happy endings?"
eugenia puts a hand on her shoulder. "she'll come back. she'll take her head out of the ground, ask around, and come back."
"what if she doesn't?" regina surprises herself with the threat of tears. she thought she didn't have any of those left. "i abandoned her, abandoned hen– what if she–"
the hand on her shoulder stays, and her sob pierces the room.
(1991)
"mom?"
"yes?"
"could we still be a family with emma?"
regina's heart tugs and twists. family is so fragmented a concept that she doesn't know if the pieces can be put back together in any recognizable shape. she has her son. she has marian and ruby and granny, and whoever else is left of the order that believes she fought for them all along. she tries not to think about the family that she could never truly be a part of, nor the empty space left by emma swan.
but still. and still.
she had left them in the first place for hope, and still.
(1988)
"god, the malfoys are awful." marian says, brushing ash off her robes from the floo. "and their kid is so smug. seven year olds shouldn't be smug."
regina puts down her book and slides off her reading glasses. "what did narcissa do today? threaten to take it up with the minister of magic himself? she can try to be terrifying, but i remember when she cried because bellatrix took her favorite doll."
marian raises her brow. "i forget that you grew up around these people."
"i try to forget too." regina quips. "at least i have arsenal of blackmail."
she laughs, and kicks off her boots. "i'd love to see that one day."
"narcissa bothers me at least once every few years. it might happen."
marian laughs and sits down at the table. she folds her hands together and clears her throat. "so….i didn't just come here to complain about my job."
"oh?"
she gives regina a gentle smile. "ruby has a lead on emma."
regina swallows. "oh."
"i told ruby not to do anything about it until we talked to you, so here i am. say the word, and she forgets about it."
she thinks about the picture she finally removed from her bedside, of the three of them. she thinks about happy endings. she thumbs her bookmark. "give me a day."
her smile turns sad. "you might not have one. if she discovers ruby-"
"i know." regina says, shaking her head. there a time when- "i know."
(1991)
"you worked for the order all along." that's definitely wonder.
regina lifts her head from a fifth year's essay, and there emma swan is. dressed in robes, hair down. she thinks of braiding it on warm nights after a battle, kissing the bruise forming from a hex. from before. well.
"i did." she says, more gently than she can believe. her quill still forms an ink splotch in the essay from pressing it.
"i know why you…couldn't have told me, but regina, i could have been your secret keeper. i could have–"
"–and that worked so well for the potters." she says, putting the quill down. she gets up, slides in front of her desk. steps closer to her. emma does not step back. "it would have meant danger for you. danger for henry. i could never…i could never."
emma touches her cheek her with just her fingertips. "you could have. regina, at a certain point in that war, all i cared about anymore was just–"
"stop." she says, and reaches up to gently take her hand. "i said no ten years ago when dumbledore asked, and i'd say no right now."
emma takes her hand back. "i always meant to open a prophet, at least. i was far enough that i couldn't find one on my own, but i could owl…but fuck, regina. i thought i'd see your mugshot. i couldn't–"
"emma–"
"i'm sorry. fuck. i'm so sorry." her voice tapers off, high and reedy.
"i…am too. not for doing it, but that you had to think….you had to think i'd ever leave you like that. i knew that after it was over, it would be a while before we would be okay again. i was even prepared for you to leave me, but emma, i can't–" she clears her throat again, but she knows tears will come anyway. she can't stop them this time.
"we lost that chance." emma says, gently. "i made us lose that chance."
"yes." regina sighs. "but it's. emma, if it were you…i don't know what i would have done. the thought of you with a dark mark…..in azkaban…."
"i know." emma says. she rubs the back of her neck.
regina holds herself. "it might be a while but, i want to talk. more, to you. about what happened when you left, where we are now. about henry, who wants to see you when he's ready."
her eyes widen. "he does? really?"
"really."
she slumps. "i assumed the kid would never want to talk to me again."
regina gives a fond shake of her head. "he believes there's a chance we can have that happy ending."
"what about you?"
regina sighs, and it's heavy. "i don't know. i'm not eleven years old anymore. but i won't bear your guilt, and i won't have you bear mine."
"i don't want that either. i want– fuck, where's a timeturner when you need one."
regina reaches out a hand. emma takes it, lightly grasps her fingers. "the war tried to take everything. it almost did. but we're both still here. we made it through. that counts for something. it might count for everything."
emma nods. "is it…okay if i want it to count for everything?"
regina gives a watery smile. "yes."
("man, look at this place." she drops one of their bags and goes into one of the rooms.
regina suppresses a cough as a dust bunny floats by her nose. "it'll take some cleaning charms."
emma pops back out of the room, and walks over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "yeah, but it's all ours."
through the dust of the window, the sun shines a bright, crisp morning.)