Notes
Point 1: If I ever write a dog into one of my stories, you can be sure that he lives forever.
Point 2: There is a dog in this story.
Point 3: I'm not sure what canon is at this point, but I'm sure this isn't compliant.
Point 4: It's been years, yes. I haven't written a thing. I've thought about writing, but not written. I've thought about SQ, but not watched the show. But lovely comments still come in every so often, and tell me lovely things. Some make me smile and others humble me, but they all make me wish I had another idea so I could write. Just. One. More.
Point 5: My dog barked at me the other day.
"We should get Henry a dog," Emma blurted randomly as she and Regina prepared for bed on what had previously been an uneventful day. She wasn't facing Regina when she said it, nor was she particularly close to her, but somehow she managed to feel her stiffen from across the room. Emma turned, caught the last bit of color draining from Regina's cheeks, and felt her gut tighten in anxiety.
"Henry asked me about it yesterday," Emma continued, carefully now, with her full attention focused on Regina. "I said we would have to talk about it?"
Her uncertainty trailed her sentence up into a question but Regina made no move to answer it. She wasn't making any moves at all really - her chest barely even rising with her shallow breaths. Emma's worry kicked up a notch and she circled the edge of the bed carefully. A few measured steps had her within range and she gently touched Regina's arm.
That got Regina's attention. Her eyes skittered jerkily to the hand on her arm then more fluidly up to meet Emma's gaze. With dismay Emma found them carefully shuttered and guarded, though she blatantly searched them anyway. Sometimes Regina hid herself away out of habit but would open up if Emma asked her to.
Regina stepped back out of range and Emma's hand dropped to her side.
"No." It was flat and dead and then she fled, probably to the kitchen where she preferred to lose herself in these situations, even though they'd been preparing for bed. Emma deflated.
It was a clear request for space, and time, and Emma forced herself to respect that, even though it flayed her knowing that Regina was suffering alone. She took a few hesitant steps towards the bedroom door, despite herself, then managed to curl into a miserable ball on her side of the bed to wait.
She drifted in and out of sleep fitfully, waking numerous times to an empty bed util finally the mattress dipped. She woke instantly but didn't move. She couldn't see the clock but there was just the hint something other than dark in the room that told Emma that it was very, very early.
She waited, but the form laying across from her was still. When a few agonizing seconds passed with nothing, Emma shifted slightly and opened her arms, inviting but not forcing. The delay was excruciating, but then Regina rolled to her side and into Emma's arms, her head burrowing into Emma's shoulder and arms clinging around her torso.
As Regina's grip constricted around her Emma could finally breathe.
If she noticed Regina's hold was especially tight, she made no sign. Instead, she let Regina use her as an anchor until the morning light began to filter through the curtains fully and Regina rolled back to her own side of the bed, feet on the floor and elbows on her knees. Emma followed and watched as Regina grasped her hands together then apart, over and over, head bowed.
Emma counted her breaths. At fifty she placed a palm gently against Regina's back and stroked light circles. Somewhere around a hundred she felt Regina pull in a deep breath and straighten. A few more and she twisted, dislodging Emma's hand but locking their eyes, and finally after being shut out for hours, Emma could read her gaze. It was like the walls had been replaced with curtains, and Emma gently pushed them aside, grateful.
Emma smiled tenderly and Regina sighed, then guided Emma's hand from the bed to her cheek. She rested against it and Emma could feel the vibration of her words against her palm. "We should get Henry a dog," she murmured somewhat sadly.
"We don't have to," Emma replied so, so gently.
"He deserves that type of love in his life. Who am I to keep it from him?"
Emma balked at the last sentence, fear and concerned battling for dominance. "He- " Emma began, but Regina was pulling from the comfort of Emma's palm and heading towards the bathroom. "Wait, Regina… just-"
The bathroom door closed on her thought, and Emma flopped back against her pillow in defeat.
"Henry, you must promise that you will care for it."
Emma stepped into the kitchen, showered into some semblance of wakefulness, and into the middle of a conversation clearly about puppies, because when Regina made up her mind about something she didn't delay. But even though the line was right out of some cheesy sitcom, the tone was all wrong and Henry caught it just as easily as Emma. Regina wasn't admonishing, she was pleading.
Henry's gaze turned questioning. "I will, Mom. I can do it."
Emma stepped further into the kitchen and caught Regina blink back a dozen emotions and pull Henry to her for a hug. "Of course you can sweetheart," she whispered into his hair. "But I can't help you. It's important that you understand that."
Henry pulled back to question, but Emma sensed they were treading into a danger zone and quickly jumped in, ruffling his hair ridiculously, forcing Henry to step away and fix it before all of his morning work was lost for good.
Emma smiled easily. "We got this covered. Henry's on duty when he's not at school and I'll swing by and let the little fella out during my rounds." And the plan was clearly nonsensical because Regina worked so much closer to the mansion, but Emma's pointed stare snapped Henry's mouth closed on any point he was considering.
"Perfect!" He supplied instead of his doubt and Regina's utter relief convinced him that this was one of those times when he'd hurt his mother without ever knowing how.
Benz was a troublemaker, but smart and so, so loving that nobody minded much. Henry cleaned up after him with an indulgent eye roll because Benz would undoubtedly curl up close later while he watched TV, content with a hand rubbing his incredibly sensitive ears. And Emma couldn't get angry with the little guy, watching her son soak up the unconditional love while simultaneously blossoming under the responsibility of being a caretaker.
And Regina didn't care because, as far as she was concerned, there was no dog. When she came upon an upturned dish of kibble, she walked around it without a glance. Spilled water got the same treatment, as did accidents in the house and holes in the yard. Regina was able to ignore them until they disappeared, which never took long at all.
Henry asked nothing of Regina even remotely puppy related and Regina offered the same in return.
The only thing she couldn't escape was the barking. He didn't do it often, but when he did Emma could see it cut through Regina like a knife. A squirrel incident had found Regina in the bathroom, faucet turned on as far as it would go, and gripping the sink so hard that Emma feared a piece would break off in her hand. It had taken Emma forever and a heavily spiked glass of wine that she'd felt guilty about for ages to get Regina to lie down and relax, and for days after she flinched at anything and everything.
But still, they were adjusting. They were making it work. Except-
Except self delusion is hard, and Regina walked around in a constant state of exhaustion so deep that Emma could see her getting pulled further under every single day.
"MOM!"
The were both still in the driveway when they heard Henry and Regina was gone in an instant, replaced by a cloud of smoke now barely tinted purple. But Emma could only poof when she knew where she was poofing to, and Henry's panicked bellow didn't fit the bill. By the time she barged into kitchen, it was too late for her to be a voice of reason.
Benz, no longer a puppy, was sprawled across the floor with his lanky appendages still and his eyes mostly closed and frighteningly dull. A mass of broken bottles and half lapped up liquid almost certainly told a tale, but Emma looked past it all and focused on the dog.
He blinked slowly, which was oddly garish against the sheer quantity of magic pouring into him from Regina's palms. And he wasn't perking up nearly as fast as Regina was wilting against him. Blood rushed through Emma's ear's and she felt rooted to her spot in the doorway. She knew she was too far away but couldn't seem to fix it.
"Ma! MA!" Henry's voice sounded like it came from deep in a tunnel but Emma swung towards him, and watched him gesticulate in slow motion towards Regina and the dog. He pushed her towards them when all she did was stare, and she stumbled to her knees next to Regina. The sharp crack of her shins against the tile drove her back to reality finally, time snapping into it's normal speed with jarring suddenness, and she grabbed at Regina's arms frantically.
Regina swung towards her with absolute fury and Emma reeled back, startled.
"No," she soothed, recovering quickly. "Let me help you." She grabbed at one of Regina's hands again and twined their fingers, pushing magic towards her. She was well past the stage of being a magical battery for Regina, but this was healing of a degree she'd never encountered and the only thing she had to offer was her power.
She felt Regina's resistance, and pushed it harder, insistently, until Regina gave in and Emma could feel the transfer. And then she was weakening almost immediately as the draw increased. The panic flitting across Regina's face confirmed that she hadn't been able to hide it and Regina resisted again, so Emma pushed HARD, then watched her with single minded focus and readied herself to make the decision she knew Regina couldn't when it became necessary.
It didn't take long. She felt it first across their link, a sense of loss of Regina so profound that Emma just knew. She flung herself against Regina with all the force she could muster, breaking her connection with Benz and landing them next to him in a heap. Their eyes met for a second, before Regina's slipped closed.
"I'm calling Whale. Henry, you call the vet."
"You call the vet," Henry shot back. "I'm calling Granny."
Snow had showed up with Granny, which was odd, and David had showed up with the vet, which was also odd. Nobody ever called Whale, which was not odd because in the entire time that Emma had known Regina, through concussions and broken bones and countless other wounds, she had never once let that man touch her. Granny was more knowledgeable about magical folly anyway, and had told her to keep Regina cool and calm, and to gently continue to pass her a tendril of magic until she felt Regina begin to draw it for herself. Emma personally thought it would be a cold day in hell before Regina would ever consent to do that again, but she kept that to herself and did as she was told.
Hours later, when Snow wandered into their bedroom, she was still at it. She looked up at her mom, and her kind eyes and understanding gaze, and began to cry.
"You know," Snow began, closer suddenly and gently petting Emma's unruly hair, "Regina had a dog when she was a little girl. But Cora didn't think that was very proper for her station."
Emma cried harder.
Snow had left by the time Regina's eyes slid open. They slipped slipped shut almost immediately but it wasn't long before Regina was awake, and aware. She pulled her hand out of Emma's and the transfer lingered across the distance for as long as Emma could maintain it, but eventually it ceased and Emma eyed Regina with concern.
"Granny said I should keep doing that." Softly. Sadly.
"Yes well, that's not what's best for you." Regina's tone was rough with strain, but loving and Emma almost cried again.
Instead, she sniffled, "I don't care."
"I'm ok, Emma."
"You weren't going to stop." It wasn't a question, because Emma was not unsure.
Regina shook her head. "No, I suppose not."
The silence stretched on then, quietly, "I had a dog when I was a girl. A pure soul, much like…" Regina stuttered on the name, but managed to get it out. "Benz. Much like Benz. All love and no common sense. He was my world."
Regina paused, and Emma waited. Knowing.
"I couldn't save him."
Emma grabbed at her hand again. It was trembling.
Regina brought her gaze up to Emma's, and her eyes were bright with the tears spilling onto her cheeks. "I can't do this again, Emma," she shuddered through her tears. "I can't do it. I have so much in my life now that I live in fear of losing and I can't add something else. I'll drown."
Emma smiled sadly, not surprise that Regina would get everything backwards. She squeezed the hand she held reassuringly. "You're not drowning from the love," Emma promised. "It's fighting it that's pulling you under."
Regina shook her head miserably, her tears intensifying.
"Remember that day in the park," Emma continued gently, leading her. "When you finally let me in? I remember the look on your face, baby. I'll remember it until the day I die. That wasn't the look of somebody drowning. That was the look of somebody being saved."
Emma watched Regina's gaze turn inward, remembering, tears still flowing but less hysterical. And she was content to wait because she knew without a doubt that she was right about this. That was the only day in her life she'd ever felt like the Savior everyone kept telling her she was.
It was always Regina she was meant to save, never the stupid town. Always Regina.
Before Regina could respond the door slowly opened, pushed in equal parts by a wet nose and Henry's hand. Benz looked tired and sore, but alert and alive and somehow knowing. He walked up onto the bed with only a little difficulty, molded himself against Regina much the same way Emma did, and was asleep with his head on her shoulder within seconds. He didn't wake when Regina shuddered out a sob, but Emma was there to mold herself to Regina's other side while Henry sat at her feet, hand gentle and steady against her shin.
And in that moment, surrounded by all the love that she was still so afraid of losing, suddenly she understood.
Things changed, after.
When Benz and Regina pass each other, both in Henry's orbit, Regina pats him on the head. Benz beams and Emma understands, knowing what it's like to be completely devoted to her.
Notes:
Not sure if I really remember how to do any of this any more. Be gentle.