Authors Note:
Hi guys,
Wow, I know, it's been forever! I finally wrote a Swanqueen fanfiction. I started one before but that never went anywhere, I'm not even sure if it's on my profile anymore. Anyway... Dark times ahead for our dearest Emma so I wanted to write something equally dark but in an AU setting. Please be kind because that's just the right thing to do.
Let me know what you all think, thank you!
- IllDrownWithThisShip-Swanqueen-
She walks down a brightly lid hallway, her hands trembling, and her eyes watering. She can hear people talking, and passing her by, but nothing can get her out of the trance she is in. Another turn down this hall and she'll be out of this horrible place. The corridor ends in a big open space, also very bright, with people sitting in chairs, nurses and doctors talking to each other, and a too friendly receptionist greeting people who walk up to her desk. She walks straight by it all, and continues for the rotating doors that'll lead her to the fresh air she so desperately needs. Balding her fists, hoping to hold herself together just a little bit longer. She starts walking even faster and finally reaches the doors, pushing hard against the glass, the coldness relieving some of the trembling in her hands. Luckily no one is slowing her down. Finally outside, she takes in a big gasp of air and rests her hands on her thighs. Her body shaking, giving in to the tears that are threatening to fall. Wiping them quickly before straightening her back, and continuing to her car. The moment she gets in and closes the door with a loud bang, she lets out a gut-wrenching scream. Everything she knew, everything she is, is going to change.
0o0
"Henry!" Her honeyed voice rings through the large hall, she is staring pointedly at a pair of shoes laying at the beginning of the stairway. "Pick up your shoes," she added, "before someone trips and gets severely injured!" She knows her 12 year old son well enough to know that he heard her, and he will come down and pick up his mess. Her brown headed, brown eyed boy isn't a bad child at all, he has just a couple of quirks that she can't seem to correct. She walks away, already hearing Henry's bedroom door opening and closing. She enters the kitchen and revels in the smell of her lasagna, made from scratch. Putting on her mitten, she prepares to open the oven when she hears quick footsteps making her way towards her.
"Dinner almost ready, mom?" She looks up and meets her son's eyes.
"I'm just about to check," she smiles sweetly, "Is your homework done?" He simply nods his head before sliding onto the barstool, resting his elbows on the kitchen island. She takes out the lasagna and puts it on the counter, the sauce is bubbling, and the cheese has turned into a golden brown color. She knows its Henry's favorite, and can feel his anticipation. "Dinner is ready, go sit at the dining room table." She watched as he practically throws his seat back and runs towards the table in the large dining room.
She can't believe it's been almost 12 years since she has adopted him. She had lost all hope, all happiness, all love until Henry had come along. She never told Henry, but she celebrated the day that she actually adopted him, which was 3 weeks after he was born. They recently celebrated his 12th birthday by going to Boston for the weekend. They went to the zoo, ate all the things she normally wouldn't let him, visited the comic-book stores, and went to the movies. They stayed in a luxury hotel, and for the second night they had decided to stay in and watched movies, and ordered room-service. It had been perfect. Never had she ever thought she would be this happy.
Henry knew he was adopted and that she's not his biological mother, she never hid it from him. And he never asked about it. She told him on a regular basis that if he had any questions, or if he wanted to talk about anything she would be there for him but he just smiled and said that he was perfectly happy. The only time he said something about it was when he just found out, she gave me my best chance, the words still edged in the back of her mind. She'd never thought her son would be so accepting of his biological mother just giving up on him. Also she'd never thought of it like that, she'd always been angry with Henry's birth mother, how could you let go of such a gift. How can you give up on your own child? But when he had spoken those words, with such acceptance, such respect. It changed her mind, and she wondered quite often about the woman who gave birth to the most important person in her life. Where is she? What is she doing? Is she still alive? But most of all, why?
"Are you coming, mom? I'm starving," Henry's curious voice interrupted her strain of thoughts. She smiled when she saw his head peak around the corner, "everything okay?"
"Yes, of course, sweetheart," She picked up the dish of lasagna, "Lasagna, coming right up," She walked towards the dining room and ruffled Henry's hair with her empty hand when she passed him by. "Let's eat!"
0o0
Regina laughed as Henry was scraping the last of his desert off of his plate, like he couldn't leave anything behind. "That was extraordinary, mom," She smiled and nodded her head in appreciation. She got up and started bringing the dishes into the kitchen when she heard a knock on the door. She put them down in the sink and asked Henry to bring the rest of the dishes and load them in the dishwasher. Another knock on the door. She dried her hands and made her way to the door, "give me one second," no patience, she whispered to herself. She opened the door and a young lady in her early 30's was standing on her porch. Knee-height boots, tight jeans, white tank-top with a red leather jacket, and a red colored beanie on her head. Big green eyes, that somehow looked familiar, stared back at her. Her mouth slightly agape. Quite frankly, the woman looked exhausted, and pale. "Can I help you?" Regina asked.
"Yes, I'm looking for my son. I believe you adopted him 12 years ago."
-Swanqueen-
Authors Note:
What do you think? Continue or what?