Some Kind of Madness
Chapter One: Mirrors and Fevers
Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did it would be one pretty effed up show.
Warning: Mature themes. Cursing (both kinds). Possible magic gone awry. Trippy ass shit.
A/N: I really don't know how these ideas get into my head. This was a random thought bubble that turned into an evil plot bunny. An evil plot bunny that won't allow me to write anything else until this madness runs its course. And I was nearly finished with updates for a few of my other fics! Damn you evil plot bunny.
P. S. Currently ROTFLMAO at the Guest reviewer who became offended and disgusted over this being a "Gender Swap" fic. Dude... the hell did you read the second chapter for? It's made clear she's been cursed to look like a dude within the first scene. And, hey, she's not staying a guy. If that relieves some of the excruciating disgust you feel. If you don't like the idea just don't read it, no need to hate. Also, note that I have bolded the aforementioned "trippy ass shit" warning.
P. P. S. I think the postscript is a sufficient warning.
Her head was aching in the worst of ways. The incessant throbbing right between her closed eyes felt as though a horde of elephants had been stampeding through her skull. She wondered offhandedly if one of her many enemies within Storybrooke had finally given in to the urge to poison her. The atrocious dinner at Granny's she'd attended the previous night would have given any who wished her ill will the perfect opportunity. Regina had initially refused to attend Emma's birthday celebration. She might currently be on civil terms with her son's other mother as well as the woman's idiotic parents, but that didn't mean she wanted to celebrate with them. Especially since she knew more than half of the town's occupants still harbored quite a bit of animosity toward her. However, Henry had all but begged her to attend. She didn't know how, exactly, her son managed to coax her into going. Though she supposed the feat might have been achieved with a little bit of blackmail.
The authentic, custom fitted, leather jacket she'd been contemplating whether or not to bestow upon Emma Swan had been her undoing. She wasn't sure how Henry found its hiding place, she would have to have another talk with him about snooping, but he had and boy had her son used it as a bargaining chip. Regina would have been proud of his ruthless display of manipulation had she not been the one on the receiving end of it.
A particularly vicious stab of pain erupted beneath her closed eyelids and her fond smile shifted into a grimace. Deciding to return back to the task at hand, Regina sped her walk to her bathroom medicine cabinet. Yanking the cabinet open and reaching for the bottle of aspirin. Even the dim light of early morning that seeped into her en suite bathroom from her bedroom windows set her retinas on fire. Forcing her to keep her eyes shut as she went about opening the bottle of aspirin and swallowing down two tablets.
She set her hands, palms flat, against the cool marble surface of the bathroom counter and leaned against the mirror. Her burning forehead pressed to the soothing glass. She knew she could've simply used magic to do away with her migraine. She knew it would have taken a single thought and an errant flick of her wrist and poof. Gone. It was only the near constant reminder of her promise to her son, her promise not to use magic unless absolutely necessary, that kept her from doing so. The fact that adhering to his one request seemed to make him actually want to be near her was more of a motivator than anything. Regina did miss her magic. The feel, the power, the release, the unparalleled seduction of it. Her son, however, was more important than the fleeting rush magic provided her with.
The brunette sighed in relief and pulled back from the mirror when it felt like the drugs were kicking in. The throbbing at her temples was reduced to a light stinging and her eyes felt more dry than anything. She chanced opening her left eye, testing the effect of the soft lighting. When she didn't immediately feel like her eyeball was going to explode she opened both eyes fully. She looked into her large bathroom mirror and instantly wished she hadn't. Her first reaction was to conjure a fireball and throw it at the unknown threat she found staring back at her. Until she realized, fireball held at the ready, that the figure staring back at her was mimicking her every move. That it was mirroring her every expression. Until she realized it was her own reflection and upon that realization promptly began screaming. A scream that came out in a low, deep, growling bellow. A scream that had her son barging into her room and glaring confusedly at her.
"Henry!" Oh god, it sounded so different so strange so wrong coming from her own mouth. Regina instinctually tightened her silk robe around her figure, not like the action was needed. She tried to regain her composure. To remove the shock, the confusion, and the pure unbridled panic across her face. "Go back to your room, darling."
Henry only gaped stupidly at her. Frozen completely still. Wide hazel eyes shifting over her face, over her figure, and back again in complete befuddlement. "Mom?!"
Regina blinked, clearly still in a state of shock, at her gaping son. She didn't want to look, didn't want to see what Henry was seeing. She didn't want to accept what madness had been forced upon her. She didn't want to... Her gaze moved involuntarily down to her chest. Specifically to the area where her breasts used to be. She frowned, some would call it a pout, and it would've been comical if not for the fact that she looked like she might be violently ill at any given moment. Her gaze traveled further along her form, assessing the damage. Her shirt buttons were straining over her torso in a way she wasn't smug about and her pants felt a great deal more constrictive than was typical. They also seemed to barely reach past her calves. Her silk robe was useless and she was pretty sure she'd ripped it in her frantic attempt to pull it around her strange new form. She wouldn't give that form a title, she couldn't. Not if she wanted to keep some semblance of control, of composure.
"Or, I mean," Regina did not like the way her son was suddenly grinning at her. It was a grin that was all Emma Swan. All amusement and mischief and altogether irritating. "Should I start calling you Dad?"
She would have been livid, would have reprimanded her son for his insensitive jeer. Regina really would have, had she not been busy slipping into unconsciousness.
"Were you successful?"
He fiddled nervously with his hands, gaze trained anxiously upon the floor. Unable to look his inquisitor in the eyes. "Y-Yes. I was able to mix it into her drink."
"Did anyone see you?" The inquisitor hissed. "We can't have anyone tracing this back to us."
He flinched at the near vicious tone of voice. "I made sure no one saw me. I swear."
"If they ever catch on-"
He hurried to reassure his companion. "They won't."
"Good." A dark grin. "Now we reclaim what is rightfully mine."
Regina woke to someone poking her cheek. She groaned and swatted at the hand of the offender. Her dark brows furrowing when the poking finger turned into a jabbing finger. Her eyelids fluttered open, her bleary brown eyes fixing irately upon her son whose curious stare was trained upon her stubble covered face. His extended pointer finger once again coming into contact with her rough cheek as he uttered in mild amazement. "This is so weird."
She swatted at his hand once more. Sitting up with a gruff huff. Her gaze narrowed when she caught sight of her bare muscled chest. It seemed her favorite silk nightshirt decided it could no longer contain her manly assets. Her nose scrunched up in distaste at the dark, curled hairs covering her broad chest, trailing down her stomach, and leading to... Oh god. She might just faint again. The odd bulge in her pants was just too much to think about. The confusion and terror morphed into absolute seething rage at that precise moment. Propelling the brunette into a standing position. Expression enraged and fists balled tightly at her sides. "Who would dare place such a ridiculous curse upon me!"
"Mom, you..." Henry laughed at the strangeness of the title considering his mom clearly was a dude. A dude wearing women's nightclothes. Clothes that did not fit him at all. "Can I please just call you Dad?"
Regina's hands went to her hips, features jumping indecisively from anger to shock to scolding. "No you may not, young man. And this is not the joke you perceive it to be. Someone has had the audacity to turn me into..." Her lips pulled back into a sneer and she gestured disdainfully at her figure. "Into this without considering the consequences of such ill advised action."
He could see the magic crackling beneath the surface and frowned. His amusement turned into concern and trepidation. She'd been doing so well after taking in the death curse to save his grandmother and his other mother. His family was finally at something close to a cease fire and he really wanted to keep it that way. He liked having both of his moms. If his mom started using magic for revenge again then things would go back to how they were and he didn't enjoy the thought of it. So he settled her with his big, open, pleading hazel eyes and took hold of her hands. Ignoring their change in size, shape, and feel. Ignoring the strangeness of his mother's softening expression on her new, more masculine, face. "Mom, its okay. It's just some stupid joke. I already called Emma so she can-"
"You called Emma?" Her softening gaze turned hard once more. Displaying exactly how against the idea of Emma helping she was. Regina could just imagine how much of a kick the blonde would get out of her predicament and the thought had her pacing. "Why would you call her of all people, Henry? That woman is-"
"Regina?" A voice called from downstairs. "Henry?"
'Speak of the devil.' Regina gritted her teeth, jaw clenching and migraine returning with a vengeance. She rubbed at the bridge of her nose. Taking a deep, calming breath before turning her attention to her son. "Go keep your mother preoccupied while I find something suitable to wear."
Henry didn't need to be told twice. And, hey, he could picture the look on Emma's face once he told her what happened. It was going to be hilarious.
Regina's shoulders slumped after watching the boy rush off. To him it was just some silly prank pulled. Just a bit of magic used to antagonize the Evil Queen. But she knew better. Magic always came with a price and she didn't want to find out what that price might be. She worried her bottom lip as she made her way to her walk in closet to pick through her wardrobe. She decided on a pressed, crisp light blue button down, a black pinstriped vest, and a fitted pair of black trousers. With a satisfied nod of her head and a twirl of her finger the outfit changed to fit her new figure. She spared a mournful stare at her vast collection of high heeled shoes before conjuring a pair of expensive Italian loafers onto her feet.
Swallowing down the nauseating lump in her throat, Regina forced herself to look into the standing mirror in her closet and take in her cursed appearance. She was surprised by the familiarity she found in the strangeness of her reflection. She was possibly the same height, if not a little shorter, than Charming. With a slimmer, though still quite athletic, build. Her regal posture remained the same and her eyes were practically unchanged beneath her now thick brows. Dark brown, soulful, and far more expressive than she ever intended. Her features were stronger. Squared, angular, and imposing. Her lips seemed to retain their fullness though she frowned at the coarse hairs scattered above her top lip, across her cheeks, and at her chin. With a mind of its own, her hand moved to rub at her cheek and chin, immediately shocked by the feel of her own stubble. Her nose scrunched in an expression of disgust far too girly for the face she was currently wearing. The stubble was magicked away instantly.
Regina let out a long breath and counted to ten. She would have to face her son's other mother sooner or later and the sooner that woman was out of her house the better. Her hand ran errantly through her thick, dark hair and she flinched at the shortness of it. She supposed the classic look of it was acceptable. Although, it did scream pretty boy with its perfect swoop and coif. She ran her hand through it once more, brow arching when it simply maintained its style. She was immensely pleased to find her favorite expression hadn't lost its effect.
The sound of loud, obnoxious laughter filled her ears and the frown was back. It was time to face the bane of her existence. Her footsteps were light but strong and purposeful as she descended the stairs. It was strange not to hear the ominous echo of her heels or feel the sensual sway of her hips. She loved her hips damn it. She loved her boobs and her curves and her everything. Now, she felt almost militant. Strange in her stiff walk, the walk greatly effected by the extra appendage between her legs.
"Kid," She watched Emma fix their son with an amused stare, another obnoxious chuckle leaving her. "Your mom is not a man. Trust me," Her brows rose, a smirk taking her lips and an almost faraway look glossing over her green eyes. "She's all woman. I mean," She seemed to shock herself out of whatever daze she'd been in. A barely noticeable hint of a blush at her cheeks. "Regina is-"
"Mom!" Henry turned his gaze to the handsome dark haired man standing at the foot of the stairs. "Emma won't listen to me."
"What..." Emma turned to face Regina. Expecting to see one ticked off woman. Seriously, if Henry tried to convince people Emma was a dude she would totally be upset. Her expectations were not met. Instead she found a very attractive, highly amused man staring back at her. A single dark brow arched and full lips set into a smirk. "The fuck?"
"Language, Miss Swan." Regina scolded, her deep voice only adding to the sternness of her tone. "It's bad enough our son-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Emma shook her head vigorously. Brows furrowing and eyes flashing with confusion, surprise, and mirth. "That statement just got a whole lot more complicated and weird than it already was."
Regina fought to remain cool and collected in the presence of this infuriating woman. Despite her valiant attempts, her smirk faltered and slipped into a frown. She crossed her arms over her chest, dark gaze burning cold fury. "This is not the time to be joking. I have been cursed to look like a man and-"
"So it's just a magic glamour or something? You're not actually, like, a full on guy?" Emma's curious stare slid down to Regina's crotch, assessing the bulge accentuated by the fitted slacks. Regina as a dude could seriously give Graham a run for his money with how nicely those pants fit.
Regina caught the way Emma seemed to be eyeing her package and had the urge to cover herself. The beginnings of a blush crept up along the back of her neck but she held it at bay. Instead gaining the blonde's attention with a growl of her name. "This is not a simple glamour spell. I have been cursed to appear as a man in every aspect."
Regina spat the words out as though they were poison. Her dark demeanor did absolutely nothing to assuage Emma's amusement.
"Holy sh..." Green eyes shifted between Regina and Henry. "...itake mushrooms! Are you saying you have a, uh, that your... the, um," A single blonde brow arched, the half curious half mirthful grin about her mouth only adding to Regina's irritation. "Plumbing is different?"
"Emma, are you trying to ask my mom if she has a penis?" Henry settled his birth mother with a stern stare and a quirk of is brow.
The woman in question flushed as red as a tomato. She was somewhere between wanting to laugh and being completely mortified.
Regina smirked evilly. Delighting in how swiftly the tables had turned. It served Emma right for acting so smugly about her predicament.
"Do you have a penis, Mom?"
The smirk instantly fell and it was her turn to gape dumbly at their son.
"Because if you do have a penis then that technically makes you a guy and if you're a guy its sort of weird for me to keep calling you Mom so that means I should call you Dad."
"Henry." The name left Emma in something between a squeak, a whisper, and an exasperated groan. "Please stop saying penis."
Regina rolled her eyes and subtly (not really) ushered the conversation toward a different topic. "I am going to pay a visit to Mr. Gold. The caster of this curse would have most likely obtained the ingredients or even the potion itself from that imp."
"Regina," The blonde had the mad urge to giggle. It was so strange addressing her by name when she looked like a guy. However, the time for amusement was over. They needed to know what kind of curse they were dealing with. It was time to get serious. "Even if I thought visiting Gold would be a good idea, which I don't by the way, you can't really walk around town like this without people noticing."
"You assume I care."
"Okay, just, think about it this way." Emma gestured unabashedly at Regina's crotch. Doing nothing to hide her amused grin while Regina glowered at the action. "You can't even answer our questions about your plumbing. Imagine all the questions everyone else in town will have."
Regina's jaw tensed at the statement, her nostrils flaring and making her look intimidating in a way she never had before. Of course she'd always been intimidating; she was the Evil Queen. She was capable of tearing your heart right out of your chest and had a merciless army at her disposal. There was just something a little more physically imposing about her in her new form. "What do you propose, Miss Swan?"
Emma shrugged. "I got nothin'. Just thought you wouldn't appreciate the hassle."
"Well," Henry turned his bright hazel eyes upon his mothers, a mischievous gleam dancing in them. "We could tell everyone that you're my Dad."
"Kid," Emma had the decency to look just a little bit sheepish when Regina shot her a 'he gets this from you' glare. "Everyone already thinks..." Regina eyed the blonde suspiciously, noticing the way her stare shifted nervously about the room. Why, she did believe she just caught Miss Swan lying to their son. "I mean, knows your dad was a firefighter that died rescuing-"
"Ma," The title was enough to shock Emma to a stop. "We can just tell everyone you, like, made it up because you were heartbroken or wanted to protect me from the truth or something."
Emma paled at his words, completely stricken by his reasoning. Especially because it was all true.
Regina could read Emma like an open book. Regardless of how the blonde tried so hard to appear as this confident, impenetrable fortress of a woman she was shit at containing her emotions. She could see every single thing Emma was feeling slipping across her features. Hurt, doubt, shock, and guilt. All of it. And Regina knew there was a story behind Henry's birth father that involved a considerable amount of pain. So she took pity on Emma, took the reigns of the conversation and steered Henry's attention away from the blonde. "Henry, that is not an option. The town would never believe-"
"Actually," Emma watched their son's excited features fall at Regina's let down. She felt so guilty over the lying about his father being dead thing that she wanted to make it up to him. If pretending his suddenly male adoptive mother was the father he never had would make her boy happy then damn it, they were going to do it. "I think they'd all eat it right up. Small town gossip and all that." Her insides churned nervously when Regina sent her a scathing glare. She was so going to get her ass handed to her later. "And its not like we have any other options."
Henry gave a little victory whoop, fixing his mom and Dad with a delighted grin. "Operation-"
"No." Regina said evenly, resolutely. "If I am to endure people believing I would ever stoop so low as to engage in-"
Emma slapped at Regina's bicep. "Just let the kid-"
"Did you just slap me?" Regina's hands went to her hips, making her look as though she were channeling sassy gay man.
Emma frowned. Maybe it wouldn't be so believable.
