Hello! So I took this story down like two years ago, but I've been missing it, and I decided to give it another shot. I'm in the process of rewriting what was already published, and hopefully will have enough muse to finish it out.
To recap, this takes place in season 2, after Snow kills Cora. I haven't even watched the last season of the show, so like, this story will ignore basically everything that happens after Cora's death.
She is halfway through a glass of very fine scotch when the incessant knocking on her door forces her to get up. Her heels click against the hardwood floor of the foyer, echoing through the empty house. Even before Cora's death, very few people would be brave enough to bother her this late, but since then...Well, since then only Snow has come to see her. Taking a deep breath, Regina puts on her best Mayoral mask and opens the door. It is barely wide enough to see who is on the other side when the hurricane that is Emma Swan barrels into the house, Henry in tow.
"Miss Swan! What is the meaning of this!" Her anger is dampened by the pang of longing that shoots through her chest as she sees Henry clinging to Emma.
"Jesus, Regina. Shut the door!" Emma sweeps her to the side and slams the door closed, locking both the handle and the deadbolt. Her hair is disheveled, and there is a streak of blood across her forehead. The terror in her eyes sends a tendril of apprehension crawling up Regina's spine. The last time she saw Emma this scared was when they thought Henry was dying.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Regina gives Emma her best glare and crosses her arms over her chest. "You can't just barge into my home like this." She hesitates. "Though, Henry, you are always welcome." She knows she sounds desperate with the way her voice catches, and it takes everything she has to keep the blush from blooming over her cheeks.
Emma just stares at her. "Have you not looked at your phone? I've called you like fifty-six times!"
"I've been busy," Regina replies with a sneer. If trying to get drunk off her ass counts as being busy. Her phone is in her bedroom, gathering dust as she had given up checking it for any messages.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Regina!" Emma grabs her arm and steers her to the front window, pushing the curtain aside. "Look!"
Through the dark, Regina can just make out figures shuffling down the road in front of her house. There is something off about their gaits, but she cannot quite put her finger on it.
"What? Is it now a crime to take a walk? And I'll not have you use that kind of language in from of my son."
The hand on her arm tightens, and Emma, pushes her closer to the window. "Regina, look!" She points to the closest figure, and Regina squints to better see. It is one of Snow's guards from the old world. Someone who was brought along with the curse through proxy, though no one Regina had a personal fight with. He stares straight ahead, his shoulders hunched to one side and his left leg dragging ever so slightly. Another figure follows behind him, ambling aimlessly, eyes lifeless. Regina shudders as she realizes they are both covered with blood.
"What's wrong with them?" she whispers, forgetting her anger.
"I don't know, but they're all like that."
"Who?"
"I don't have a census, but like everyone almost." Emma pulls her away and makes sure the curtains are closed again. "Henry, go upstairs."
"But Mo-"
"Go!"
Regina tries to ignore the stab in her chest that always follows when Henry calls Emma 'Mom,' but is must manifest on her face anyway because Emma gives her a sad little smile that says she understands.
"Hey, look, I've tried to talk to him, but-"
"It's fine, Miss Swan." Regina does not trust herself to say anything other than that snapped response, and there are more pressing matters at hand. "You said there were more people...afflicted?"
"Yeah, like, we saw at least...fifty more people like that on the way here, and...people are dead, Regina." Emma pauses, regarding Regina curiously. "Have you really not been outside at all today?"
"No, I haven't." The words sounds bitter even to her ears.
"God, it's been going on since last night, I guess." Emma shakes her head, walking uninvited into the study where she picks up Regina's half-finished drink and knocks it back, ignoring Regina's glare. "People were acting weird, and I was getting a lot of calls about disturbances and like weird shit, you know? People going around….biting other people and...and I think it's zombies." She looks completely serious, but Regina balks.
"What?"
"Zombies, Regina, zombies!" Emma gestures wildly with her arms, hair flying around her face as if that will make this situation suddenly sensical.
"Are you serious?" Regina stares at her, trying to process the fact that Emma is, in fact, quite serious. "That's completely ridiculous."
"Oh, so it's fine that you're the Evil Queen, and my mom is Snow White, and her best friend is a frickin werewolf, but zombies are unbelievable?"
Not wanting to admit that Emma has a point, Regina considers this for a moment. "I do know of magic that can reanimate corpses, but it is very dark and very powerful. Only two people would be able to use that kind of magic. One was my-was Cora." It is easier for her to cope is she separates Cora the sorceress from Cora her mother.
"And the other?"
She raises a brow at Emma. "Who do you think?"
"Rumpelstiltskin."
"The very one." With a heavy sigh, Regina pours them each another glass. "But this doesn't seem to be like that from what I can tell, and he has no reason to do this. Not now that he has his son." She cannot keep the grimace from her face. Emma does not offer any apologies. There is nothing to be done about it now. "I think this is something else. You said they were biting people?"
"Yeah. Like zombies." Emma gives her the look that clearly says 'duh.' It is one that Henry perfected over the years, and Regina hates how similar they look doing it. "Haven't you ever seen a zombie movie? No, never mind, I know the answer to that."
"Some of us have standards."
"Whatever. If this is anything like the movies, then there's safety in numbers. We need to go group up."
"We?"
Emma looks at her again, like her patience is growing thin. "Yeah. Why do you think I'm here?"
"I don't pretend to know what goes on in your head." But something in her chest tightens. They thought of her. Either Henry or Emma thought of her.
"Yeah, like I was going to let Henry's other mom get eaten. "Emma rolls her eyes. "Do you own anything that's not a power suit? Like jeans or something? Because we're probably going to have to do some running and stuff."
"If you think I'm just going to drop every-"
"Dammit, Regina, this is serious!" The terror is back in Emma's eyes. Desperation. "We need to regroup, come up with a plan. You need to go upstairs and pack the essentials. Mary Margaret and David are meeting us at the sheriff station with anyone they can find."
Regina snarls. "There's no way in hell I'm going to spend any amount of time-"
"Look, I know you hate her, and you have every right to. What she did was horrific, and I can't even imagine what you've gone through, but she's my mom and you're my….son's mother? I don't know. But I'm not going to be separated from either of you." Emma points her up the stairs. "Go pack."
Shocked, Regina does not have the words to fight back because what Emma said is still ringing in her ears. You have every right. No one has ever taken her side. No one has ever told her that what she is feeling is legitimate. No one has ever acknowledged the pain she has gone through. Goddamn Emma Swan. So Regina gives her a last glare before marching up to her bedroom where she carefully packs the few pairs of jeans and leggings she owns. She then changes out of her skirt and into one of the pairs of jeans, feeling out of place and strange. She pushes that feeling down and rummages through her closet for the one pair of low heeled boots that she had once bought, thinking she might take up riding again. The stables, though, only ever brought bad memories, even more so now. So the boots sat unused at the back of her closet. Until now. With a last glance around the room, she grabs a picture of her and Henry that sits on her bedside table and carefully tucks it into her bag.
When she returns downstairs, Henry and Emma are both waiting for her. They turn their faces to her in a synchronized way that screams of shared genetics, and she has to fight the pained expression that wants to work its way onto her features. She swallows and gathers herself.
"Henry, there are some granola bars in the kitchen. Why don't you go get them?"
For once, he obeys her without question, and Regina turns to Emma. "I assume you have your weapon with you," she asks in a low voice. It is not just Henry's physical well-being that she wants to protect.
"I do."
"Good. And you won't hesitate to use it, even against people you might have known if it means protecting Henry?"
"Yeah." Emma's face pales, but there is a determination in her eyes that immediately sets Regina more at ease. No matter what else, they have always been in agreement when it comes to Henry's safety.
"I know Henry doesn't want me to use magic, but-"
"I think in this case he'll let it slide." Emma quickly glances at Regina's attire, but says nothing about it. "Thought I would feel better if you have like a baseball bat or something."
"I have one in the shed. Henry wasn't much into sports, but he did try little league for a short time."
Emma cracks a small smile. "I guess he got his coordination from his grandmother."
Regina cannot help the smile that tugs at her lips in return.
"Mom?" They both turn to look at Henry standing in the kitchen. He winces when he realizes he will have to specify which one. He looks and Regina, then at Emma. "Emma, should we bring some water bottles?"
"Uh, yeah kid. That's a good idea." He retreats back out of sight, and Emma gives Regina small shrug of apology. "He just needs to-"
"Just be quiet." Regina holds up her hand, jaw set tightly as she tries her hardest not to let Emma Swan know just how upset she is. They wait in silence for Henry to come back, Emma pacing the room while Regina composes herself. When he returns, Emma hoists Regina's bag over her shoulder. "We'll grab the bat, then we gotta run to the car."
"Your car?"
"Yes, your majesty. My car."
"No."
"Regina-"
"It's not safe."
"And your ancient Benz is? That thing is actually probably older than my bug."
Regina bristles. "It gets regular tune ups and has an excellent safety report. And don't get me started on your driving skills. We're taking my car. And I'm driving." Emma looks as if she wants to argue, but a thump against the door cuts her off. Another thump follows, and the two adults exchange a frightened look.
"You're parked out back?" Emma asks.
"Yes."
"Then your car it is. Henry, let's go."
Regina follows them to the back door, taking on last glance at the empty house before stepping into a world of destruction.