Part One
A reminder of home
The creases in Emma's forehead deepened as she ran a hand through her hair, the fatigue played across her eyes as she re-read over the letter of notice to her landlord. Every sentence seemed skewed, and the blonde could feel herself becoming more and more frustrated as she continued on. Groaning, Emma took a long drink from her beer and closed her eyes willing the proper words to come to her. Writing had never been one of Emma's skills, yet she still felt pathetic about the blatant fact that she couldn't even bullshit her way through a simple letter. Sighing, the blonde crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed it into the garbage can. Whatever, she thought, she still had several months to write something adequate so why allow herself to become so stressed about it now?
Coming back to New York City had not been what Emma had anticipated. She had thought that everything would quickly fall back into place, that everything for her and Henry would become normal again. But the blonde had clearly been wrong. They had ventured back to the city to put their affairs in order before returning to Storybrooke permanently, at least that is what Emma had told Henry, and everyone back home. Truthfully, the blonde wanted to come back to New York for good. Being away from the craziness of fairytale drama would be the best thing for her and her son's well-being; they wouldn't have to deal with the constant fear of being attacked by some storybook villain, and Emma wouldn't have to continue to carry the weight of her title as "The Saviour". And yet, no matter how long the blonde fought with herself over, and over again about how much better life in the real world would be for them, Emma continued to ache for home and everything that it had to offer.
Taking another draw from her beer, Emma reached across the table towards Henry's laptop and pulled it closer to her. Turning it on, the blonde waited a moment for it to boot up before she opened the browser and logged onto Netflix. Sleep seemed to be evading her lately, so the blonde figured she may as well watch something to distract her from all the jumbled thoughts and decisions that were tangling up inside her mind.
While she glanced through the listings, searching for something mindless and comical, the blonde nearly jumped out of her chair as the sound of an incoming Skype call blared from the speakers. Cursing, Emma's gaze fell upon the small black rectangle that alerted her to who was calling. Taking a breath and holding it, the blonde let her mouse hover over the "decline" option as her gaze took notice of the small picture of Henry and Regina alongside the white lettering that read: Incoming Call from Regina Mills. Blinking her eyes repeatedly, the blonde realized that it wasn't just a figment of her imagination and began chewing her bottom lip furiously as she quickly slid the small pointer over and selected "accept".
As the Skype program popped up, a plain black screen as it loaded, Emma continued to worry her bottom lip. Why had she accepted Regina's call? The brunette was calling Henry, not Emma, yet the blonde couldn't allow herself to ignore the older woman's call. Feeling her chest tighten as the static from Regina's end wafted through the speakers, the video crackling as all of the pixels came together, Emma realized she had anticipated talking to her. One could even go as far to say that the blonde missed Regina, the brunette was comfort to her for some strange reason. A strange reminder of home. And so Emma sat patiently, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched Regina's face focus.
"Emma?" The brunette questioned, her head tilting to the side as the confusion found its way to her dark eyes.
"Hi..." Emma started awkwardly as she shifted in her chair, "Henry's already asleep..."
"I assumed as much," Regina sighed as her full lips drooping at the sides to show a small frown, "I thought I may have caught him before he fell asleep. He likes falling asleep while I talk to him."
"Yeah, he wasn't feeling well. I think he has the flu or something. He had a bit of a fever earlier."
Before Emma had finished her explanation she watched as Regina unconsciously leaned closer to the screen, her eyes widening as her lips parted. The blonde frowned as she saw the fear sweep across Regina's face and she could feel the involuntary need to reassure the brunette that everything would be okay, and that Henry was fine.
"Have you checked on him since he went to sleep?" Regina questioned, her tone firm and authoritative. "You haven't, have you? He is very susceptible to viruses, and tends to have radical spikes in temperature. His fevers are known to be very impulsive, and have outrageous bursts. He must be monitored, Ms. Swan!"
"Hey!" Emma nearly yelled, feeling the familiar annoyance that Regina seemed to always rouse within her. "I've got it taken care of, you know I am his mother too and I know how to take care of him." Sighing, the blonde leaned closer to the screen and looked directly into the camera before watching Regina's expression, which was uncharacteristically solemn. "Look, I get it, Regina, the separation anxiety, missing him, worrying about him, I get it. I do. But you don't have to take it out on me."
The two women looked at each other for a moment, as if they were both finally seeing each other for the first time. After everything they had been through together, all the fighting, all the things they had done to try to hurt the other, had led them to that moment of looking at one another in the middle of the night. They were both human, both mother's of their beautiful son, and perhaps it was the sense of missing something that connected them then, but whatever it was, it caused an unusual sense of understanding to form within the quiet static of the video call.
"You're right, Emma," Regina began, almost tentatively, her voice soft and vulnerable, "I'm sorry."
"Damn, Regina" Emma chuckled, as a way of alleviating some of the weight from their conversation, "I never thought I'd ever hear those words come out of your mouth."
"Excuse me?" Regina replied, a dark brow rising in question, all softness fleeing her face.
"You're right, Emma" the blonde mocked, making sure to put emphasis on her own name to further prove her point, as if the brunette giving her credit for anything was hysterically absurd.
"I'm sure you didn't, dear, but I can assure you it will never happen again."
Green eyes stared at the screen of the laptop, watching with rapt attention as the playfulness slowly inched across Regina's features. Emma took a deep breath as she leaned back against her chair, stretching her arms up above her head, and enjoyed looking at the complete personification of beauty that the brunette became as she smiled, and laughed softly. The blonde bit at her lip as she grabbed her beer and took another long drink, she wasn't sure how she felt about the unfamiliar fluttering she felt within her stomach, or the rough rush of homesickness, but the alcohol seemed to help quell such things. As the liquor ran down the length of her throat the thoughts slowly left the corners of her mind, and Emma realized that Regina was staring at her. And perhaps it was the beer, or the haziness that clouded her judgement, but if Emma wasn't mistaken the brunette was wearing the same confused, whimsical expression as she was.
"Look," Emma said softly, almost in a whisper, "I know things are tough right now, for both of us, but Henry is our son. Not yours, not mine, ours, and we have to start realizing that. We may not like it but we're a big part of each others' lives now, and we gotta start giving each other the benefit of the doubt, you know?"
"I agree," Regina confirmed, nodding lightly as she clasped and unclasped her hands within her lap. "You are certainly a large part of Henry's life, and perhaps I could a bit more civil."
"I can accept that, I mean I know you aren't a big fan of me..."
"Emma, you must understand that it isn't that I don't like you," the brunette's voice tapered off as she ran her teeth across her bottom lip, her dark eyes veering away from the camera for the first time, "there were a lot of pressing circumstances that heavily affected the way I allowed myself to interact with you. Do you understand?"
Emma's breath caught in her throat then, and she coughed as she scrambled to take another drink from her beer. The notion of Regina Mills not hating her was something the blonde couldn't fathom, it seemed to make her brain scramble with a myriad of questions she felt she could never ask. And so Emma ingested the last of her alcohol, and set the bottle down on the table with trembling fingers. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she allowed her green-eyed gaze to focus on Regina's face, searching for any sign of a joke. Yet, all she found was that same expression of vulnerability, and the echoes of words filled with sincerity.
"So, you don't hate me?"
"I don't," Regina chuckled, finally allowing her eyes to reach the camera once more, "you may be of questionable character, but you have strict morals and ethics, you're very resourceful and intelligent in your own right. You have great potential. And, of course, Henry wouldn't exist without you. So, no, Emma, I could never really hate you."
A comfortable silence fell upon the two women then, as they found themselves tentatively watching the other with their full attention. Each movement and breath seemed to have been noticed by the other, as they clung to that fleeting moment of comfort they had created for each other. Neither woman was sure of what was culminating between them, but they both felt it, that strange gnawing feeling for the hope of something greater to arise.
"It's quite late," the brunette noted in a distracted tone, "I should be heading off to bed, as should you."
"Yeah, I'm getting pretty tired. But, before I forget, I'm gonna send you my Skype username so that maybe we can do this again sometime?"
"That would be...nice."
A small grin found its way to Emma's lips, and a blush rose in her cheeks, as she lowered her face and began searching for the instant message option. After a few clumsy attempts, the blonde opened the message box and typed out her username, checking it over for errors before she pushed the enter key, and sent it to Regina. When she felt the heat leave her cheeks, Emma let her face re-enter the camera's line of focus and waited patiently for Regina's response. A few moments passed by, with the brunette's face etched in concentration before she smirked and looked back towards the blonde.
"I believe I've successfully added you to my contact list."
"Awesome," Emma nodded, "so I guess this is good night then?"
"Yes," Regina sighed, stretching her arms out behind her head, "but, please, check on Henry before you fall asleep, and...tell him I love him."
"I will, I promise. Goodnight, Regina."
"Thank you, Emma...and goodnight."
The call ended a moment after Regina's last words reached Emma's ears, and yet the blonde couldn't seem to pull her gaze away from the screen. So much had transpired within such a short amount of time, that Emma needed time to collect herself. It made her internally thank herself for deciding to randomly accept the brunette's call, because otherwise they may never have had that conversation, they may never have allowed themselves to open up in that way. The distance, the late hour, and the safety of being one click away from ending the entire conversation seemed to have made both women allow their walls to fall, if only a few inches. And that made Emma anticipate the next time she would speak to Regina. Perhaps they could mend all the tears in their unorthodox relationship one call at a time.
Stifling a yawn, the blonde slowly pulled herself from the chair and stood, stretching out her entire body, allowing all the day's stresses to flutter through her limbs and out through the tips of her fingers and the ends of her toes. Humming with an appreciated sense of peace, Emma closed the laptop and lifted it into her arms as she walked through the dining room and out into the hallway.
On her way to her bedroom she stopped beside Henry's door, and quietly entered the dark bedroom. Tip toeing towards his bed, the blonde set the laptop on his bedside table before gently sitting on the edge of his mattress. Lifting her hand she raised it to Henry's brow and felt the temperature of his forehead. His fever seemed to have broken almost completely, and it made a small knowing smile curl at the edges of her mouth.
"You know, kid, your other mom isn't so bad," Emma whispered as she left a soft kiss on his temple, "she loves you tons, just like I do."
A/N: I made a random Swan Queen Skype manip for Tumblr a week or so ago, and it seemed to spur this little idea for a fic. So, here it is, I haven't written anything on this level for a long time, so I know my style is rusty, at best. But I hope you all like it anyway. Let me know what you think in the reviews section! :)