Together Again
Author's Note: Okay, y'all knew I had to do something with the Gold/Regina scene in the latest episode (Season 2, Episode 8: "Into the Deep"). So, surprising no one, here it is. Yes, I am aware it's an obsession. This is super-angsty. You have been warned.
Cora.
Cora, her mother. The woman who gave her life … and then in one single moment, took away all that made that life worth living, when she ripped out her true love's heart.
It chills her to the bones to hear Henry speak of her. The look in his eyes … he doesn't understand. He doesn't know. He can't possibly know what her mother is, or what she is capable of.
And she doesn't want him to ever have to find out.
Which means she has turn once again to … him.
Wonderful.
What's even more wonderful is that when she approaches Rumplestiltskin (no, she should think of him by his other name, call him by his other name, it's easier that way) he's on a date with Belle.
They're at Granny's. Eating hamburgers. He's introducing her to the "magic" of condiments.
It's just so damn precious that she wants to vomit.
Naturally, he is as displeased to see her and she is displeased to be there.
"Belle, you remember the woman who imprisoned you for 28 years?"
Oh shut up Rumple. At least she's still alive, unlike my Daniel.
She sees the shift in him, though, once she mentions Cora's name. It's subtle, and he tries to hide his reaction, but he can't. Not for long.
Not from her.
"Apparently you taught her well." Better than you ever led me to believe, you manipulative bastard. Though I should hardly be surprised that you lied about that, given every other way you deceived me.
But it hardly matters now. The point is that, now that they both know Cora is in play, they are going to be on the same side. However reluctantly and grudgingly, they are simply going to have to be on the same side.
She only hopes he's as discomfited by the idea as she is.
She wonders how long they will have to work together. And how long they will actually be able to work together without killing each other.
And what degree of fortitude it will take to keep all her carefully buried memories of him from coming to the surface.
It already begins to be difficult, when he uses his magic to heal Henry's burn.
He did that for her once, after her first disastrous attempt at brewing a potion. She remembers crying out in pain and dropping to the floor, her eyes filling with tears and her spirit filling with disgrace.
He'd cradled her in his arms then, muttering soothing words, rocking her back and forth to calm her, and shushing her repeated attempts to apologize for her utter failure.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so stupid …" Just like my mother always said I was.
"Shh, Shh, Regina. No you're not," he'd said, so softly. Then he'd run a hand over her arm, and taken all the pain away.
She had felt quite ashamed of herself, not only for botching the potion but for acting like a child about it. It was an old, instinctual response; the combination of magic and pain brought up too many memories of the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her mother.
"I destroyed half your workshop," she'd sniffled.
"I don't care. It's my fault, you weren't ready. I should have supervised you more closely."
"No, but if I'd just listened when you said –"
"Hush, my wicked one." He'd held her closer, and she'd curled into him, the sweet dark magic of him, and let her fear and shame drift away. "Just hush, it's alright."
Now, she closes her eyes for the briefest of seconds, trying to banish the memory from her mind.
He makes it a bit easier for her when he acts like his predictable callous self, and suggests putting Henry back to sleep again, to face that raging inferno in the dream world.
It is interesting to Regina, though, that he refers to her mother as "a real monster."
Then what does that make you, Rumple?
What does that make us?
People who are trying to find their way back to some kind of humanity, she supposes, for the sake of the ones they love. He for Belle, and she for Henry.
It's not her happy ending anymore. But she guesses it will have to do.
Later, she has to see him again. She has to stop by his shop to gather the ingredients to make the sleeping curse. This is the real one, not the trifling little concoction she used to dose her husband's drinks with so he'd fall asleep before he could even think to touch her.
Truth be told, it's the same potion she'd botched so badly all those years ago. These days, she tells herself it was his fault. It was Maleficent's special invention, after all, and she should have learned it directly from her. But Rumple being Rumple, he had insisted on teaching it to her himself.
"I hardly see you as it is lately, what with Leopold wanting you around for those pesky diplomatic events. I don't need you off learning the sleeping curse from Maleficent, and talking about the latest fashions or braiding each other's hair or doing whatever it is you two do when you visit for hours on end. Not when I can teach you to make it just as well. Just because she invented the potion, doesn't mean she's the only one who knows how to brew it up."
"Why Rumple, are you jealous of Maleficent now?"
He'd giggled. "Hardly, my wicked one. I don't think she's your type."
Regina wonders briefly is there is some kind of spell she can cast to rid her of these wretched memories of him. She told Henry she wouldn't use magic, but … well, this would be for a good cause, wouldn't it? And he'd never need to know …
Regina takes a deep breath and enters Gold's shop.
"The ingredients for the sleeping curse," she says without preamble.
He nods, and goes to fetch them. After he has them assembled, he hands them over to her.
"Now remember, you need to be careful when –"
"I know how to make it. I don't need your instructions."
He smirks a little, and she wants to slap him. "That's not the way I remember it."
Regina grits her teeth. "That was a long time ago. I got much better at it, after my … first attempt."
"Yes," he concedes, sounding almost proud. "You did. So I trust this time you won't be blowing anything up, or … injuring yourself."
He's remembering too. She can see it in his eyes, the memory of her being cradled in his arms, being healed, being soothed …
She hopes the recollection fills him with as much disgust and bitterness as it does her.
"I won't," Regina snaps, and stalks towards the door. Before she opens it, however, she pauses.
Without turning to look at him, she adds, in a voice so low he has to strain to hear:
"I know you won't be there to heal me this time, if I fail. In fact, I'm sure it would give your great joy to see me on the floor, writhing in pain, like I did that day. But I'm afraid I simply won't allow you that satisfaction, Rumple dear."
She chances a look back at him. His expression is impossible for her to read.
"I suppose I better observe the process very closely then, your majesty." He leans on the counter, looking her straight in the eye.
"Just in case you do wind up on the floor, writhing in pain, like you did that day … I wouldn't want to miss it."
Regina flashes her teeth at him. "What a lovely sentiment. Well then, let's not dawdle, shall we?"
So much for reclaiming your humanity, she thinks, as they make their way. I hardly think your dear Belle would approve. But then, she supposes it's only appropriate.
After all, he hates her. And she hates him.
Regina wonders how long their hatred will be able to hold them together.
He said to her once, long ago, that they belonged together.
And now here they are. Back where they belong.
Together again.
