This fic was inspired by Taylor Swift's Ronan. I suggest you listen to that before reading this. My apologies ahead of time.
Emma was lounging in the sheriff's office, leaning back in her chair with her feet on her desk when her cell phone rang. "Hello?" Emma answered. She probably shouldn't have been answering her personal phone at work, but she was the sheriff. Who was going to tell her no?
"Sheriff Swan?" A somber voice asked on the other line. "I think it's time for you to come say goodbye."
She dropped the phone out of shock. There was a pause, and she could hear her name being called from far away. Emma picked up the phone quickly, saying, "I'll be right there." She ended the call and grabbed her coat and keys, hurrying out the door. She got into her yellow bug, which was parked right out front. Memories flooded her, keeping her from turning on the car. It was as if Emma believed that stalling would prevent things from happening. As if taking her time would stop time. She remembered a call, completely different from the one she had just received.
"Hello?" She'd answered the phone. She remembered how strange she'd felt, answering an unknown number. That was something she never did, because unknown numbers always lead to unpleasant things; Political calls, tax collectors, overdue library books. But that day, something had made her instinctively answer it.
"Hello. Is this a Miss Emma Swan?"
"Yes this is. May I ask who's calling?" The voice on the other end was cold, businesslike. Emma was afraid she'd made a mistake and answered a political call. She considered hanging up, but she gave the caller the benefit of the doubt.
"My name is Regina Mills. I'm the Mayor of a small town called Storybrooke, in Maine." She paused for a second, just giving Emma long enough to wonder what she had done to piss off a Mayor. "Miss Swan, seven years ago, I adopted your son." Emma's knees had turned to jello, and her legs collapsed out from under her. She stayed on the floor in shock. "Miss Swan?" The voice on the phone asked. "Are you still there?"
"Yes. I uh-I'm still here."
The voice on the phone changed tone. "Are you alright?"
"I am-uh. I'm, I'm Emma."
"Well yes, yes you are. I am sure this has come as quite a shock to you, but Henry would like to meet you. I was wondering if that was possible."
"It was a closed adoption. How did you find me?" Emma hadn't meant to sound rude, but she needed her questions answered before she could answer anyone else's.
"I am a Mayor, Miss Swan. There are ways to find people that don't want to be found." She had assumed her cold, business-like voice again. And she was right. Emma, a bail bondswoman, knew that better than anybody. "Would you like to meet Henry? He has been asking about you. But if you are opposed to that, I'll simply tell him that you couldn't be found."
"No. Don't do that. I want to meet him Madame Mayor. I want to meet him."
That split second decision had led her down a path she'd never thought she could follow. A life with her son. She'd driven from Boston to Storybrooke the next day, meeting the very child she'd given up. He had been a breath of joy into her life. She had spent one day with him, and gone back home to Boston. But after a week she'd given up on trying to have a normal life again.
Emma had packed everything up that day, and drove to Storybrooke, showing up in the mayor's office in the middle of the afternoon. She had prepared an entire speech, ready to beg the mayor to allow her a place in Henry's life, but when she had stepped in Regina had simply stood up, walked to Emma, shook her hand, and said, "Welcome to Storybrooke, Miss Swan." Regina had offered Emma a place in her home, and Emma had gladly taken it. When Henry got home from school they had met him at the bus stop, and he had run to both of them, wrapping his arms around both their waists and yelling, "I knew I could have two moms. I knew it!" Emma had turned red, and Regina had simply hidden her face, as if she was too embarrassed to show it.
Emma smiled to herself, remembering that day fondly as she drove her car down the main street in Storybrooke to the hospital. The short drive there she was assaulted by another memory, one she tried often to push from her mind.
Regina had come home early, maybe two weeks after Emma had officially moved in. The current Sheriff was moving, so Emma was studying the laws and ways of the town in an attempt to fully prepare herself for the job. This included looking over maps, meeting town citizens, and becoming acquainted with official town holidays and history. She looked up, surprised to see Regina so early. "Madame Mayor, what are you doing home?"
Regina had sat down heavily, "We have to talk, and I want to do it before Henry gets home."
Emma had jumped to conclusions. "If this is about me staying here, I promise I'm looking for a place. There just don't seem to be any vacancies…"
"No, no, no, Miss Swan, it has nothing to do with that. You are welcome to stay here as long as you'd like. Having you in our home has been a delight. You bring a joy to the home we haven't had in a long time." She paused, steeling herself. "Henry is sick."
I shook my head. "No he isn't. He was fine when I walked him to the bus stop this morning."
She shook her head too. "No, Miss Swan, not that kind of sick. He is really sick." She paused, letting that sink in. "When he was five, he was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. It's called embryonal rhabdomyo sarcoma. He went into remission last year. At his last checkup, about a month ago, they found a few cancer cells. I told Henry. I never keep anything from him. And his only request was that I find you. And so I did that. I found you."
Emma had taken all of the papers she'd been reading, and she held them tightly in her hands. She stood up, but didn't go anywhere. "No. He's perfect. This can't be true." Regina offered no words of condolence. Just sat there as Emma continued. "This can't be true. Henry is the one thing I did right in my life. Giving him to you was the one thing I didn't mess up." She threw the papers from her hands. "He's perfect! He's my perfect little boy! He's our perfect little boy!" It was the first time either Regina or Emma had called Henry 'ours' and even in that heated moment, they both realized it had a nice little ring to it. But in that moment, Emma did a desperate thing. She took her keys and left, ignoring Regina calling her name from the doorway.
Emma had driven for hours that night, blinded by her tears. If she was truthful with herself, she'd actually gotten lost that night. She was still new to town, and she had ended up at a road that ended in a bridge over a creek. She'd gotten out of the car and walked down to the creeks edge, cursing anything and everything in her life. Herself, for not maintaining the closed adoption. Regina for bringing her into Henry's life. Henry, for wanting her there in the first place. And lastly, God, for ruining everything it'd looked like he'd given her. She'd sat out by that creek for hours, crying until there were no tears left. When her eyes had dried themselves she'd driven back to the mansion, letting herself in with the key Regina had given her. The front porch light was on in a way that said, 'I am expecting you.' She'd walked inside to find Regina at the island in the kitchen, drinking a glass of hard cider. There were tears pouring down her face, and she tried to wipe them all off before Emma could see. But her red eyes and nose gave her away anyways.
"I thought you weren't coming back." Regina said, not quite accusingly, but in a way that said she was clearly hurt.
"I can't leave. Not now."
"You're not the only one that's scared, you know." Regina said, not cutting Emma any breaks. "Last time I did this alone. For a year I had to nurse him when the chemo made him sick. I had to shave his head when his hair got too thin to do anything else with. I was alone." The tears began again.
Emma walked around the table, standing directly next to Regina. "You will never deal with this alone again." She pulled Regina into her arms, surprised when the usually rigid mayor allowed it. "This time I'm here, and I'm scared too. But I'm not going anywhere."
They stayed like that for a few moments before Regina eventually pulled away. She left Emma standing alone in the kitchen, before popping her head back in through the door way. "You can call me Regina, Emma."
Emma pulled up in front of the hospital, trying to prepare herself for what she was about to see. She walked slowly through the front door, dreading everything that was about to happen. As she walked down the hall to Henry's room, she was taken by perhaps the cruelest of memories.
Henry was eight. Emma had been living in the mayoral mansion with what she fondly called her family for a year. It had been a hard year. Henry had had his ups and downs, lost his hair, and more often than not, his lunch. He had gotten frighteningly thin, and one day he'd looked better. Just a little. Emma and Regina spent late nights taking turns bringing Henry a bucket to be sick in, and in between runs often spent their time talking to each other, in one bedroom or the other. And if Henry uttered a frail, "Mama?" They took turns answering that too. Sometimes they both went, one of them holding his hand and the other putting a cool cloth on his feverish head. They were a front united. And one day, he stopped calling them at night. After a week they were hopeful, after two they were ecstatic. His hair started growing back, a thin peach fuzz barely covering his skull. He started being able to eat small meals more often. The doctors talked about 'remission' in hushed voices, as if afraid of the effect hope could have on their precarious family.
About a month after Henry began feeling better, the doctors had set up a day to run an arsenal of tests on Henry. At the end of the day the doctors had sad nothing, just told the family to come back in a week to read all of the tests. They'd given Emma and Regina no indication of what they were going to say. Henry sat on the table in an examination room with Emma and Regina in two chairs next to the table, holding hands. "I have to tell you something very important." Dr. Whale began. Regina tightened her grip on Emma's hand, cutting off her circulation. Suddenly the door to the room opened, and a multitude of nurses and doctors came in clapping and cheering, crowding the exam room with their loud voices and their bright balloons. "You're in remission Henry! Every test came back clear. You have a clean bill of health." He jumped off the table, leaping simultaneously into Regina and Emma's laps, crushing them under his weight. They all celebrated, cheering and eating the cake one of the nurses brought in, feeling a new lease on life for all of them. Sometime around midnight, when Henry finally fell asleep, Emma and Regina laid together on Regina's bed, too wired to sleep.
"He did it." Regina said, ecstatic.
"We did it." Emma smiled. "We have one hell of a kid."
"We do, don't we?" Regina said back, turning and looking at Emma, who was lying on her back and looking at the ceiling. She propped herself up on one elbow and kept looking at Emma. "Thank you."
"For what?" Emma looked at Regina.
"Everything. Being here. Not making me do this alone this time. Our son." She hesitated for a moment, then leaned over Emma, moving closer to her. Regina paused for a moment, her eyes searching Emma's. She seemed to find what she was looking for, because she closed the rest of the distance between them, kissing Emma. It was a short kiss, the kind of first kiss that isn't sure if it should continue, but Emma put her hand behind Regina's neck, pulling Regina back down to her, answering any questions Regina might still have. They were two moms, celebrating the triumph of their son together.
Emma twirled the simple band on her ring finger. It always gave her strength, even though she knew being the strongest woman in the world wouldn't help her today. She stopped outside the room with the, 'Mills, Henry' namecard outside it, taking a deep breath before walking in.
When Henry saw Emma he tried to smile, though he couldn't quite manage it. It was the most heartbreaking thing ever. "Hey mom." He whispered. His words were barely audible, and the lack of strength to them almost made Emma break down. Regina was in a chair next to him, holding his hand. She had been there most of the day, from the look of her wrinkled trousers and blazer. "How was work?"
"Same old, same old, kid. Car chase, a shootout. I'm surprised you didn't hear it from here." Henry tried to laugh, but what came out instead was a wheeze that turned into a frightening, wracking cough.
"You're funny." He whispered. Emma pulled a chair up on the other side of Henry's bed, and leaning onto the railing. "Do you guys think," He paused, coughing again. "Do you guys think it'll hurt very much?"
Neither of them had to ask what he meant, and it was Regina who answered. "No. Dying doesn't hurt. All the pain you feel now? The hurt? The sadness? It'll all be gone when you go."
"Good." He said in that almost silent voice. "I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want you guys to hurt anymore."
"Henry." Emma said, her voice strong, even with the tears pouring down her face. "We never minded hurting for you. We love you. Mom loves you. I love you. We love you."
"I know." He murmured, and it was clear he was feeling weak. "I'm glad you have each other." His eyes closed, and his heart rate slowed.
Regina gripped his hand tighter, and started to talk to him, hoping he could still hear her. The tears continued to pour down her face. "I remember your bare feet down the hallway. I remember your little laugh. Your race cars on the kitchen floor, those plastic dinosaurs. I love you to the moon and back."
Emma and Regina had gotten married six months after Henry went into remission the second time. They knew how precious life was, and they knew how perfect they were for each other. Emma knew the prim and proper mayor would never put up with having to get down on one knee, so Emma did it. Together she and Henry, who, after six months, had very very short hair on his head, worked together to make Regina a perfect dinner. They burned the steaks, undercooked the green beans, and forgot the mashed potatoes all together. In the end Regina had come home to the house smelling like smoke and a very ruffled and frustrated Emma. Emma gave up on the meal entirely and dropped on one knee right in the entryway of the house, with a simple, "Regina, will you marry me?" Henry stood in the entryway with them, snapping pictures on Regina's professional camera of the exact moment, catching everything from Regina's face to the black marks all over Emma's shirt. With tears in her eyes Regina said yes, and they were married in the courthouse. The entire town attended, and Regina was the center of attention, dressed in white and given away by Henry. It was the best wedding the town had seen in years.
Six months later, shortly after his ninth birthday, Henry was diagnosed. The cancer had come back.
Regina held tightly onto Henry, continuing to talk to him. "I remember your green eyes, looking into mine, like we had our own secret club. I remember your dancing before bedtime, then jumping on me waking me up." She stopped, the tears coming thicker now, her voice getting quieter as the sobs threatened to overtake her. "I can still feel you hold my hand, little man, and even in this moment I know. You fought this hard like an Army guard, remember how I used to sing to you." She stopped, and Emma knew she wouldn't be able to get his song out.
Every night after Henry was diagnosed, Regina and Emma would tuck him into bed, and Regina would sing a little song to Henry. The first time Emma ever heard it, she and Regina were staying overnight with Henry in the hospital. Regina had sung it special for their hospital room. "Come on baby with me, we're gonna fly away from here. Out of this curtained room, and this hospital grey will disappear. Come on baby with me, we're gonna fly away, from here. You're my best, nine years.
Emma leaned closer to Henry, finishing the song Regina couldn't. "Come on baby with me, we're gonna fly away, from here. Out of this curtained room, and this hospital grey will disappear. Come on baby with me, we're gonna fly away, from here. You were, my best, ten years." Regina looked up at Emma gratefully. They both kissed him on either side of his cheek, and the heart monitor flatlined, announcing his departure.
Regina began sobbing loudly, and the nurse came in, turning off the monitor and tearfully saying, "Time of death, October 20th, 4:56 PM."
Emma and Regina spent the next half hour in the room, Regina crying until it seemed she'd cried herself out. By the time they finally left the nursing staff was ready to take Henry from the room. They'd disconnected all wires, turned off his respirator, and removed the tube from his throat. If they hadn't known any better, he could have been sleeping. They said goodbye one more time, kissing him, before they left the room.
Emma and Regina walked to their separate cars. Regina was slowly starting to get control of herself, and Emma was slowly starting to lose it. Regina got into her BMW, driving it over next to Emma's Beetle. At first, she couldn't tell where Emma was. She wasn't in the car, and she couldn't be seen from the front of it. Regina stopped her car and walked around Emma's, looking for her. She found Emma huddled against the back wheel well of her car, slowly crumbling to pieces. Regina pulled Emma to her feet, leading her to the passenger seat of her car. Emma got in without argument, collapsing into the seat as if there was nothing left to her.
Regina got into the driver side, beginning the short drive home without a word. Emma deteriorated faster and faster. "Henry!" She wailed. "Why? Why our little boy? How could he be taken from us?" She covered her face, trying to hold back the sobs. "Why? Why!?" Regina put her hand on Emma's thigh, trying to calm her, while tears poured down her own face.
Regina pulled into the mansion, and unlocked the door for Emma, who was inconsolable. "Why our boy!?" She raced upstairs, and Regina followed her, concerned that she would hurt herself on accident or on purpose. Instead of going to the bathroom, where she expected her to go, Emma ran to Henry's room, collapsing onto his bed in tears. Regina sat down next to her, a comforting hand on her back as she looked around the room, taking everything in. His book of fairy tales that he would never read again. His globe he would never look at again. His homework from school, which would never be due. The tears kept coming, harder and harder, until she couldn't see anything around her. Emma slipped out from under her, stepping into the center of the room, before going somewhere Regina never would have expected. She went into his closet.
"Henry." She cried to no one but her son. "I am so sorry. I am so sorry I gave you away." She sobbed, a loud choking sound that nearly brought Regina to her knees. "I missed seven years with you because I was afraid. I was young and afraid. And that was time I should have had. Time we should have had. All of us. As a family." Emma looked down, and Regina watched her from tear filled eyes. She looked down at a box of clothes on the floor. "Henry, what about these clothes? You wanted them all so bad."
A knock on the door about a year before had interrupted their movie night one evening. Regina had paused the movie and hurried to open the door. Michael, a mechanic from town, was standing at the door with his son Nicholas. "Hey, Mayor Mills, I'm sorry, are we interrupting?"
"No, of course not. How can we help you?"
"Well actually, we have some stuff for Henry. Nic has outgrown a lot of his clothes, and we thought Henry might want them? He and Nic have been pretty good friends, and I know Nic is always loaning Henry hoodies and stuff, so we thought maybe he'd like to go through them before we get rid of them?"
"You know what Michael, how about we take all of them, and whatever Henry doesn't want we'll donate?"
Michael had smiled so big, handing Regina the box. "That sounds great." He leaned in the door, waving to Henry and Emma. "Good to see you Sheriff Swan. And give us a call anytime you want to come over Henry." They'd left. Emma had thought that was strange, but Regina had explained to her that, in a town like Storybrooke, people just did things like that. Thought of each other for no reason at all.
"We let you have the entire box Henry, even though you're still two sizes too small. You wanted them so bad." Emma collapsed to her knees, as if the outburst had been all she had left.
Regina walked over to Emma, kneeling next to her and taking her in her arms, much like Emma first had, so long ago. "It's ok." She said soothingly, though nothing was, or ever would be again. "It's ok." She sobbed. "It's ok." They sat like that for hours, just holding each other, before they finally crawled into Henry's bed and slept in it together, plastered to each other.
Life doesn't stop for anyone, not even those mourning death. Together, Emma and Regina planned Henry's funeral, using each other for support. And even as they willed the day not to come, it did. They stood in the church, greeting people as they came in. Emma was red-eyed, but Regina was the picture of Mayoral perfection. She kept herself together, until it was her turn to speak. Emma and Regina had agreed that Regina would speak first, so she walked up front with her index cards. But once she reached the podium next to her sons open casket and a large picture of him smiling, it all seemed pointless. It was all crazily organized, when nothing in life is organized. She had never planned this for Henry, she had never expected it.
"Henry was my son." She began. "I loved him more than I've ever loved anyone or anything. I sat with him when he was a baby. I cradled him as a child. I watched as he outgrew being afraid of the dark. He was growing into a promising young man. He did his school work. He listened to his moms. He requested that I find the woman who gave birth to him, and through that simple request, I found the love of my life. Henry wasn't perfect, but he didn't need to be. And there is nothing that can replace him for me. For us." She looked at tears started to pour down her face, and she looked at Henry in his casket. "I remember the drive home, when the blind hope turned to crying and screaming why. Here the flowers pile up in the worst way, and I don't know what else to say about my beautiful boy who died." Regina let the tears continue, and looked back to the crowd gathered to mourn Henry. "You know, it's about to be Halloween." Some of them smiled. "Henry always had such an imagination. I'd let him be anything he wanted, if he was still here. But I remember that last day, when I kissed his face, and sang to him." She choked up, and Emma stepped up with her, and together they sang the song for Henry, looking at his casket.
"Come on baby with me, we're gonna fly away, from here. You were my best, ten years."
Regina sat down then, leaving Emma red-eyed in front of the crowd. Instead of addressing them, she turned her whole body to face Henry, talking directly to him. "What if I was standing in your closet trying to talk to you? What if we kept those hand-me-downs you won't grow into?" She choked up there, tears pouring down her face. "And what if I really thought some miracle would see us through? But what if the miracle was even getting one moment with you?" She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Henry, I love and miss you. Thank you for bringing me back into your life, and giving me the family I never knew I wanted. We'll never forget you."
Regina came back up, looping her arm through Emma's, and they stood together in front of the crowd, a town united in their grief. "You all know Henry was a special boy. Our special boy. He touched most of your lives, as he touched ours." She looked lovingly at Emma, who stood tearfully with her, allowing Regina to close the funeral. "We both loved our son, and we'll always love him. The last thing I ever said to Henry was, 'I love you to the moon and back.' And his mom and I will always mean that." They held hands as they walked to their seat, and Emma remembered something.
"You know mom." He'd said to Emma, when Regina wasn't around. "It doesn't even matter if I get sick again."
"Don't talk like that Henry." Emma had said, horrified at the idea of her healthy son becoming sick again. No nine year old should be ok with getting cancer.
"No, that's not what I mean. I don't want to be sick again. But I am glad I got sick the second time."
"Alright, I'll bite. Why?"
"Because. You and mom found each other because I was sick. And now we have a happy home."
"Henry!" Regina had called from upstairs. "It's bed time!"
He hugged Emma, she kissed him goodnight, and he ran up the stairs to his bedroom. Emma waited a few minutes before following him upstairs, where Regina was tucking him in. Emma leaned against the doorway, a casual observer. "Mom? Can you sing to me?" Henry asked of Regina.
"What do you want me to sing?" She asked, smiling down at him, full of love.
"Sing my lullaby."
"Your lullaby? You haven't had me sing that to you in months.
"I know, but I like it. Please?" Regina laughed, kissing Henry. "Oh mom, stop it! Just sing it!"
She smiled, singing his favorite song to him. "Come on baby with me, we're gonna fly away, from here. Out of this curtained room, and this hospital grey will disappear. Come on baby with me, we're gonna fly away from here. You're my best nine years."
This story was honestly the hardest thing I ever had to write. It broke my heart as I sat here with Ronan on repeat and Swan Queen on my Tumblr dash. I hope you guys liked it; sorry for ruining your day!