Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time
Emma's head throbbed at the base of her neck, sending tremors of pain in rhythm with her pulse. Her stomach twisted, and the white brick walls and wooden floors of the apartment she shared with Mary Margaret seemed to blur. She squeezed her eyes shut against the ceaseless waves of dizziness crashing over her. Migraines were nothing new—they had tormented her most of her life, but this was ridiculous.
Today's headache came from the vexing voice echoing from her phone. "Ms. Swan, you are the sheriff. I should not have to spell your job out for you. Why is it you insist on wasting your time on certain unsavory people?"
Emma arched an eyebrow. "Unsavory people?"
"Leroy's disturbance tonight."
Emma rolled her eyes. "It wasn't technically a disturbance."
While it was true Leroy indulged in another night of drinking, he was mostly harmless. Opinionated but harmless. Regina always did have a flare for the dramatic, especially when someone dared to insult her. Her royal highness probably obsessed over it all evening, waiting until Emma relaxed to further wreck an already shitty day.
Emma sighed. "I drove him home. Hopefully, he's sleeping it off."
"It seems 'sleeping it off' has become a regular occurrence for him," Regina said, her tone cold, exact, like the blade of a knife. "Clearly, you have forgotten what your duties are to this town, sheriff."
"Regina—"
"We have laws against public inebriation, Ms. Swan. Perhaps a night in jail would do him good. There are consequences to one's actions." Regina continued, her voice like nails on a chalkboard.
Emma smirked at another one of life's ironies. Regina would be familiar with consequences. She started to chuckle under her breath, but the ache in her head flashed hard and quick. That damn migraine. She rested her head in her hands and began to rub her temples, trying to massage away the ache. It lingered just like the irritating brunette on the other end of the line.
Emma poured herself a glass of water and took a sip. A wooden table, its surface peeling away, sat in the unused dining room, and she slumped into one of the chairs surrounding it. She rested one of her elbows on the edge of the table, then lowered her forehead into her palm and closed her eyes. Behind her lids, she imagined the beach, the water lapping at her feet as she walked on the soft sand. A vacation. Hell, after the month she had, she needed a vacation.
"Regina, I took care of Leroy. He's at home."
Regina's shrill voice exploded in Emma's ears, sounding like fingernails on a chalkboard."You will do more than—"
"He is at home, Regina." Emma interrupted. "He can sleep it off."
"I won't stand for this," Regina said, her voice dripping with scorn. "Henry was with me. One would think you'd want to keep him away from that type of behavior. Then again, you have no idea how to care for a child."
Emma's face burned, hands clenching into fists. Regina was on another power trip, poking her nose where it didn't belong. The vexing woman was the mayor, but since the curse had been broken, her status was more of a formality than anything. Emma pressed her finger against the bridge of her nose. I will not let her bait me.
"I hardly think Leroy telling you to 'sod off' warrants a jail sentence." Emma lowered her voice in a mumble and added, "I'm surprised that's the only thing he said." She took a deep breath, controlling her emotions. "Is there anything else, mayor?"
Silence descended, heavy and thick as the fog collecting outside. "Emma…" A shy, hesitant voice replaced the mayor's harsh tone. "I…I'm sorry. I…I should not have said that."
Emma's head rose and her mouth fell open. Regina had apologized…to her…again. Those words, that action, revealed so much about Regina's transformation for the past year and a half. Regina fought the darkness that pulsed within her, the noir reflection of the 'evil queen.' She once told Emma that every day was a struggle, but with each victory, Emma found that someone actually *likable* emerged. But, damn it, even in spite of that, Regina could get under her skin as no other ever could. Emma narrowed her eyes. She wanted to reach through the phone and wrap her fingers around Regina's throat. Surely, that would ease this new disturbing need to assure the woman that everything was all right.
Damn it.
Emma bit her bottom lip. "It's okay. It's just been a long night and nerves are on edge. We could both use some rest. Give Henry a kiss for me?"
"Of course," Regina said, her words soft. "Perhaps you are right, rest would be welcome. I will talk with you in the morning. Goodnight, Emma."
"Goodnight," Emma said. She ended the call and placed her pocket.
She sighed and glanced at the plush futon against the far wall. Exhaustion clung to her body, digging into her slumped shoulders. Her eyes drooped, and the ache in her head intensified. The mattress seduced her with a red velvet blanket draped over it. Shit, she was tired. She walked to the futon, sinking into the cushion, a soft smile on her lips.
Suddenly, a piercing wail penetrated the room, followed by soft footsteps. Voices swirled and mixed with Mary Margaret's coos. Emma waited until the fog cleared from her head, and sat up.
"Emma?"
Emma stretched her arms, lacing her fingers and cracking her knuckles. The sound reminded her of her ex-boyfriend, Neal, cracking his knuckles as he held her tight during the violent thunderstorms that would strike Portland. Emma had always been afraid of tornadoes, which was absurd—she never saw one. "Hi."
"Sorry, sweetie, Neal's hungry."
Emma glanced at the bundle in Mary Margaret's arms and frowned. Neal was named after her ex, Henry's father. This new baby was her mother's world and she found herself envying that fact. Emma had never known what it was like to grow up with parents that loved her. All her life, she thought she was abandoned. Unwanted. Forgotten. If she made the mistake of trusting someone, they vanished as if they never existed at all. Later, she found herself engulfed in Storybrooke and the madness within the small, quaint town. There, she found her parents never abandoned her. There, she found her son, one of the most important things in her life.
Emma found she had no clue on how to be a daughter or a mother. She still wasn't used to the idea of her former best friend actually being one of her parents. They could have been sisters in spite of her mother's dark hair. They shared the same full cheeks, high forehead and pointed chin. Not to mention the age issue—that brought a whole new level to 'all things strange and weird.'
She watched as Mary Margaret walked towards her. The baby was inconsolable, and his cries grew in pitch, and that really wasn't good for her headache.
She focused on Mary Margaret's face, gray with exhaustion, and the prominent dark circles under her eyes. Her mother wasn't sleeping, and by default, neither was Emma. "Could you hold him while I use the restroom?"
Emma stared at Neal as if he was a snake ready to strike. What could she do for his cries? Wasn't he hungry? She sighed and inclined her head. "Yes." Mary Margaret handed the baby over and hurried to the restroom. Holding Neal up, Emma regarded the baby at arm's length. "Hi, um… Neal." The baby's cry cut through Emma's temples. She closed her eyes to the bile boiling in her stomach. "Could you stop crying for just a second? C'mon, honey." Emma used the word 'honey' as it seemed to be one of Mary Margaret's favorite terms besides 'sweetheart' and 'sweetie.' Maybe something familiar would comfort him. Well, one could hope. She shook her head at her cluelessness and frowned.
The baby stared at her, seeming confused, his face running through a myriad of expressions. She tucked Neal against her chest and began humming. Small breaths escaped his lips, and he gazed upon her in baby wonderment.
She leaned her head back, and immediately that ear-splitting shriek filled the room. She groaned, snapping her eyes back to his wide ones. "Come on, Neal. Just this once?" A peaceful quiet settled around her and she mentally danced as his face relaxed. "Well, another disaster averted. Just in time too!"
Mary Margaret wandered inside, the edges of her lips quirking upward as she held out her hands for the baby. Emma handed him over to her mother without a word, slumber calling to her once more.
Emma's mother slumped down next to her, pulling her nightgown open. Neal latched on like a hungry shark, pausing periodically to breathe in contented sighs.
"You'd think the kid's starving," Emma said, leaning her head back.
Mary Margaret peered at her son, eyes misting over. "He certainly eats with vigor…just like his father." Both women sit in companionable silence for a time. Concerned eyes glanced at Emma. "You don't look well, sweetheart."
"Just another headache."
"And I woke you up. I…didn't realize. I'm so sorry." Mary Margaret said, her words escaping with an exhalation of air.
"It's okay. It's just a headache. Just another long shitty day."
"Emma!" Mary Margaret arched a disapproving eyebrow. "Language!"
"Ah sh— I mean sorry!" Emma inwardly winced.
Her phone vibrated and the display lit up. She sighed, thinking it was Regina. That woman always seemed to call at the most inconvenient times. She pulled it out and frowned when a number she didn't recognize flashed on the screen. "Emma Swan."
Heavy breaths greeted her on the other end.
"Hello? Who is this?" She asked, leaning forward.
"One." A man's gravel-like voice echoed in her ears.
A chill crawled down Emma's spine. "Who's this?"
The phone went dead.
A.N. I hope you guys liked the first chapter. Note: The story begins after the confrontation with Zelena.