Tangled in Red

Chapter Two: yet another trying conversation

Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time.

Warning: Language. Little bits of angst.

A/N: So did not expect such a response to this little experiment. Here is the introduction to Regina's take. After the inevitable reveal I'm contemplating upping the rating for this fic. I have pieces of a potential smexy scene written out but I suppose it'll depend on where the story ends up.


The first time she notices it she's washing laundry. She's in the middle of staring, half baffled and half amused, at the overwhelming amount of dirt and grass and jelly donut Henry has managed to cover his brand new jeans with. She briefly entertains the thought that it must be a trait he inherited from Emma. Then she catches herself thinking of her son's other mother, a frown forming and a tired sigh escaping her. Regina closes her eyes and shakes her head as though the action will banish the blonde's stupid, arrogant, charming grin from her mind. It doesn't and when she opens her eyes in defeat she sees it. Wrapped around her ring finger, knotted like a noose and taunting her.

The red thread of fate.

Fate.

If she wasn't somewhere between shocked and seething she would scoff at the word. Coiled around her finger is another reminder of what she's lost. What Emma Swan ripped away from her. A chance at love, a chance at true happiness. It isn't the first time the savior has taken something from her. She supposes she should have seen the betrayal coming. Robin isn't the first lover Emma has turned against her and Roland isn't the first son that damnable woman has torn away from her. The difference is, her heart thud-thud-thuds in agony and her eyes water without her consent, this time around Regina thought Emma was on her side. This time, Regina thought she could trust Emma. She thought they might be something close to friends. She hasn't had many in her life. At least, not any that she trusted so emphatically.

Emma claims she had no idea about Marian or Robin Hood or how her White Knight complex would destroy the Evil Queen's happiness. Regina doesn't believe a word of it, can't believe it. And yet... an embarrassingly large part of her wants to. Wants to learn to forgive, learn to forget, learn to let go of the past and stay as far away from vengeance as possible because she knows her happiness shouldn't have to be dependent upon someone else.

A wave of overwhelming emotion washes over her and she can't. She can't forgive, no matter how desperately she wants to. Her features contort in agony and her heart pounds an unsteady rhythm. Her blood rushes and vision blurs and all she can think about in the moments leading up to her next course of action is how fate has left her royally screwed on multiple occasions.

So she clutches at that thin red thread. Takes pleasure in its flickering, fading glow. And she pulls at it with vicious intent. Curses fate or destiny or whatever cosmic bullshit has led her to her current state. Attempts to rip the wretched reminder off of her person and hopes that somehow Robin Hood, her fate allotted soulmate, feels it.

(Somewhere across town, unbeknownst to the frantically pulling brunette, Emma Swan pouts at the splattered remains of her bear claw and makes a reference to a terrible 90's horror flick.)

Regina doesn't stop trying to rip the thread to shreds until suddenly it vanishes. She glares down at her hand, breathing ragged and eyes squinted in suspicion. She should be ecstatic. She should be congratulating herself on a job well done. She would be if she didn't still feel the strange subtle connection.

It isn't until a week later that the red string reappears. She's drowning her sorrows in a bottle of bourbon when it catches her eye. As if a confrontation with both Robin and Emma in the same day isn't enough. As if fate has decided to toy with her, add more grief to her already horrible day. The string glows and flickers and she curses it with all her might until suddenly she finds herself at her office desk, eyes wild as she rummages through a drawer and her fingers coil around metal. She clutches at the mocking line of red with her left hand and hacks away at the thing with the scissors in her right.

(Somewhere in Storybrooke Emma Swan lets loose a surprised yelp of pain, her green eyes glaring incredulously at her hand.)

When it becomes apparent the irritating little cord cannot simply be cut away, Regina tosses the scissors back into her desk drawer and growls in utter frustration.

The third time she sees it she's preparing dinner for herself and Henry. The instant she notices the infuriating line of red she marches right on over to the blender, tosses as much of it as she can inside, and hits PURÉE. To her disdain the thread only spins and spins and spins and spins until there's more of it coiled inside of the blender than there was to begin with.

(A few miles away at Storybrooke's Sheriff station, Emma Swan is unceremoniously wrenched away from her office chair. She gets dragged past her gaping deputy's desk, screaming expletives all the way, before the invisible yanking abruptly stops.)

Back at the Mills residence Regina is staring, glaring actually, at the blender when Henry walks in.

"Mom?" He inches closer to his brunette mother. Wide hazel eyes take in her tense posture and scathing expression. "Are you ok?"

Her glare falls away, disappears beneath her closed eyelids. "Honestly, dear?"

He purses his lips, worry creasing at his brows, and nods.

Regina sighs, presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose, and spares a sidelong glance at her nodding son. "Not at the moment, no."

Even though he expected as much, he frowns at the knowledge. Stuffs his hands awkwardly into his pants pockets and stares at his mother with wide, worried eyes. Regina hates that she notices his uncanny resemblance to Emma Swan in that moment. "Is it because of what happened with Robin Hood?"

She winces and he winces and they both wish he hadn't said the name at all.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I know you really liked him and everything but," He stops, words hanging in apprehensive suspension, and worries over whether he should continue or not. Worries about his mother's reaction to his revelation and what repercussions he may face for his actions. The worries bubble up inside of him and he tells himself he needs to do this for her. He tells himself he did it so she would be happy again, so she would stop being mad at Emma and they could all be happy again. "He isn't your soulmate."

She smiles a strained smile at him like she's trying to cover up all the pieces he knows are broken inside of her. He hates that she's so sad, he hates that he can't fix her, and he especially hates how he knows she doesn't believe him. So he pushes forward before she can put an end to the topic. "I know he isn't your True Love because-"

"Henry, please." The strained smile falters and Regina doubles her efforts to look completely unaffected by the subject in front of her son. "Let's not waste any more time on the matter." She returns to the vegetables she'd been chopping before she caught sight of that damnable red thread. "Would you like to help me with dinner or return to your reading?"

"I…" He frets over it again, heart hammering. It can't be helped. She has to know because she has to forgive Emma and she has to let herself be happy. Before he says the words he holds his chin up high, puffs out his chest, and takes a calming breath. "I did a spell to help you find your real soulmate."

"You cast a spell on me?" She blinks, stunned and perplexed, at her son.

"To help you find your real soulmate. I didn't want you to be so sad anymore." The boy takes on a sheepish expression and rubs at the back of his neck and why? Regina wonders in mounting irritation. Why does her baby boy have to remind her so much of the woman she currently cannot stand?

"Henry." The tone is both scolding and apologetic. She was under the assumption that she was fully capable of putting on a happy face for her son. She should know better. Henry is intuitive and caring and she knows he will do anything he deems necessary to help the people he loves. And he loves her. She knows that despite the curse, her past as the Evil Queen, and the darkness she's still trying so hard to rid herself of, her son loves her. The knowledge halts her frantic mind, allows her the patience she needs to find out exactly what her son has gotten them into. There will be time to flip out later. "You know the cardinal rule of magic, it always comes with a price. We need to reverse whatever spell you cast immediately."

Henry eyes his mother warily. He figured her first move would be to try to undo the spell. Just like he knows how very furious she's going to be when he tells her she can't reverse the spell. "You can't, Mom."

"Just as all curses can be broken, all spells can be undone, Henry." She adds a little more than a touch of stern to her tone. "You will tell me which spell you used, I will undo it, and then I will discuss your punishment with Miss Swan."

He remains silent, stubborn stare meeting Regina's head on.

"Henry." She says it in warning. Lately he's been testing their limits, rebelling, being bullheaded and crass and disrespectful at times. Her little boy is turning into a teenager and she wholeheartedly prefers the temper tantrums he threw at the age of three over the ones he's been throwing recently.

"You can't undo it and even if you could I wouldn't tell you because I love you, Mom." Henry feels the frustration building inside of him, feels it pouring out. Blurring his vision, boiling his blood, and clogging his throat. Why doesn't she understand he only wants to make things better? "And I just want you to realize stupid Robin Hood isn't your soulmate so you can stop being mad at Emma and we can all be happy again!"

Before she can respond, before she can reprimand him for raising his voice at her, he's stomping away angrily, barreling up the staircase, and slamming his bedroom door shut. She grimaces at the sound. Leans agains the kitchen counter and rubs at her throbbing temples. Dealing with a teenage boy is turning out to be much more difficult than she initially prepared for.

Regina eyes her phone and contemplates calling Emma verses saving herself yet another trying conversation.