Longer chapter this time. Most following chapters will be of a similar length to this one.
Thank you for everyone who took the time to drop in with a comment for the last chapter, BTW. Much LOVE for y'all.
Enjoy!
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Chapter Two
It was a little after one a.m. by the time Snow and Charming arrived at the hospital, Henry trailing behind them looking lost and little and heartbreakingly distraught.
Reluctantly, Regina opened her eyes. She had only been sitting for one, maybe two minutes, on the hardback chair outside Emma's room. It was getting late, and the extensive healing required by the other woman had left Regina feeling like she'd gone ten rounds with an angry troll.
But she jerked herself back to full consciousness anyway, shaking her head and climbing unsteadily to her feet.
She met Snow's eye first.
"Regina, is she...? How...?"
The woman couldn't seem to form a sentence between shuddering, terrified breaths, and Regina felt herself a little overcome by one of those strange pangs of sympathy that she'd been experiencing lately. She surveyed the three frantic, tear-stained faces before her and did the only thing that she could think to do. She spread her arms, and let her little boy run into them, burying his head in her shirt as she held her former stepdaughter's gaze with as little venom as she could manage.
"It was all quite superficial, Snow," she replied, surprising even herself by the gentleness of her tone. "I've managed to heal almost everything. She'll just be a bit stiff for the next few days. It's mainly the Magic Fever that's an issue right now."
"Magic Fever?"
It was David who managed to articulate the question. His voice was hollow.
"She's very new to magic, and she just used a lot of it," Regina explained patiently. "She's exhausted, achy, feverish. New witches literally call it 'Magic Fever'."
She felt Henry stir in her hold, using his cuff to clear up his face. She didn't reproach him for it.
"Is she awake, Mom?" he asked, in a quiet little voice.
"Not right at the moment, baby," she replied. With a significant look straight at David, she squeezed her son's shoulder. "Why don't you go and keep her company while she sleeps? We'll be right in."
It was quite possible that Henry Mills - always so much more aware, so much more observant, than the adults in his life seemed willing to give him credit for - knew exactly what she was doing. It was quite possible that he knew he was being fobbed off so that they could keep yet more secrets from him. Nevertheless, it was clear that his fears for his biological mother were just too prevalent to allow for any arguments. He detangled himself from Regina's hold and barreled into Emma's room with barely a backward glance.
As the door swung on its hinges, Snow couldn't help but snap her head around, a fleeting look of relief crossing her features as she caught a single small glance of her little girl, sleeping peacefully. Regina saw as the woman visibly relaxed ever so slightly, losing the rigid, unforgiving tension in her shoulders and jaw. She herself had felt the exact same lightness as she'd watched the savior's wounds recede beneath her glowing fingertips.
She cleared her throat delicately, waiting until they were both looking at her.
"How much did Red explain?" she asked.
"She told us about the message," David confirmed, dark and furious. "That couldn't have been the Smoke Demon, could it?"
Regina shook her head, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear she she looked thoughtfully to the door that her son and his mother were currently waiting behind. Since healing Emma, she'd been running over and over the events of the night in her mind, trying to make sense of the chaos, and truth be told, it was making her head hurt.
"The Smoke Demon was an honest accident," she stated, almost more to herself than to the other two, who watched her with baited breath. "Red visited the convent to confirm it. Nova was casting, and she didn't take care of her fire properly. They called Emma, who was on patrol, and she followed it to Gold's shop. It must have been drawn by all the magic there."
She took a long breath as she considered the next turn of events, her gaze now dropping to the floor.
"Emma fought the demon. It must have been...quite a battle. She was severely injured, but as far as we can tell, she used her magic to destroy it."
"It's definitely gone?" Snow demanded sharply.
Regina bristled automatically at the tone, before remembering what she'd been talking about with Archie. She clenched jaw once, before taking a breath. Snow was not being rude to her. Snow was not being disrespectful to her. Snow was not demanding anything of her. This was all about Emma, and the fierce protectiveness that comes with motherhood. She could understand that perfectly.
She was impressed by the soft evenness of her own reply.
"Yes. I knew the second we entered the basement. I could feel its remains in the air around us. The Smoke Demon was long since taken care of by the time Miss Lucas and myself arrived on the scene. It's what happened next that is subject to debate."
"Someone tied Emma up," David provided, his fist clenching like iron around the fabric of Mary Margaret's cardigan. Regina found that she liked both of them better like this. Stripped of the niceties and tweeness - just fierce and protective and angry. They were raw, and she knew how to deal with that.
She just wished that people didn't have to come so close to death for this sort of candidness between herself and her nemeses.
"Yes," she confirmed. "Whether or not Emma was conscious at that point isn't clear. For what it's worth, I would bet a lot on her having passed out as soon as she destroyed the demon. That level of magical expenditure from a body that beaten? I don't think she could possibly have stayed standing. But we won't know that for sure until she wakes up. All we can be sure of is that there was a third party who managed to tie Emma up and use her blood to write the message on the wall."
Snow turned her head into Charming's shoulder for one full second, before turning back to look at the door, taking a determined breath and wiping the tears from under her eyes.
"Red was outside the entire time."
It wasn't a question.
"She is sure that she arrived within minutes of Emma, and she didn't see a soul leave or enter the shop," Regina replied, with a short, sharp nod, despite the fact that the other woman couldn't see it.
"Has anybody called Gold?" Charming asked.
"It was my first port of call once Emma was healed," Regina answered. "Both Neal and Belle assured me that he had been there all evening."
"They could be lying?"
"Indeed they could, but it is unlikely. Neither has any love for magic or Gold's dark side. I don't think they would cover for him if they doubted his innocence for a moment."
Snow was still staring unwaveringly at the door to her daughter's room, and now, she suddenly let out a little exhale of desperation.
"I know we have talk about this," she murmured, "But it can wait. Right now, can I please just see my baby?"
David and Regina exchanged a final, firm glance, seemingly on the same page for once. They would return to this conversation, and soon, but first, they would let mother and daughter have their reunion.
"Of course," Regina replied, even managing the ghost of a smile. "Can you please tell Henry that I love him, and that I will be more than happy to help him with his project tomorrow, whenever and wherever is most convenient."
David took upon himself to nod for the both of them, the corner of his own mouth quirking up ever so slightly in gratitude for the consideration the Evil Queen had showed his family that evening.
He moved to take Snow's hand into his own, Regina already letting herself mentally deflate in anticipation of a late night glass of wine, and the warm, soft bed waiting for her back at the mansion. But the younger woman surprised both husband and enemy by shaking her head mutely. A moment of understanding between Snow White and her Prince Charming, firmly telling him to go on without her. That she would catch up to him.
David looked concerned for a moment, before shrugging. Obviously, he was more than used to his wife doing exactly as she pleased. He spared them one last glance before leaving the hallway, ready to stand by his fallen daughter's side.
Exhausted, and now more than a little impatient, Regina turned to look at Snow, a single eyebrow creeping towards her hairline as she waited to hear what it could be that was coming.
"Thank you," the younger woman finally breathed, honest in their moment of privacy. "Regina, thank you for helping her."
Well, that was unexpected.
"It wasn't for you," came Regina's immediate retort, quick and adamant and accompanied by a series of dazed blinks. She simply couldn't allow the other woman to believe that. "It was for Henry and for Emma."
But then, after a moment, she thought about Archie again. And just how damned well she'd been doing lately. And how Henry had felt in her arms just moments ago, and how achingly lovely it had been to watch Emma's body heal beneath her hands, and how the stars had looked from her picnic blanket in the backyard. And she took a breath.
"But I did it gladly," she offered, after a long moment of hesitation.
It was not a 'you're welcome', not even close. But it was something.
Snow's small, watery smile was the last thing she saw as she finally vanished into the embrace of a welcoming cloud of purple smoke.
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It was the sunlight that woke Regina the next morning. She had been so exhausted when she'd arrived home the night before - the extensive magic required to heal Emma, and the effort of being civil to Snow, having left her feeling like she'd run several marathons in a row - that she had neglected to draw the drapes, instead choosing to let herself fall into bed fully clothed. She'd been asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
"Eugh."
Now, she wrinkled her nose at the brightness of the summer morning as it danced over her eyelids. She hadn't brushed her teeth the night before, and now that her exhaustion had receded, she could smell the stale smoke and body odor that clung to every inch of her. Really, it had been incredibly polite of the hospital staff not to retch every time she'd walked by.
"It's so hard to regret a curse that gave us all hot running water," she groaned theatrically to the empty room.
She began to peel her rank, stifling clothes off as soon as she was out of bed, eventually adding her underwear to the rather disgusting trail as she drew up to the shower. She sidled through the door; stretched - straining until she felt everything click satisfyingly back into place - before letting out a contented sigh and switching on the water.
Immediately, everything that had been hurting began to relax as the events of the previous night were carried down the drain and far away.
She extended an arm, reaching for a bottle of honey-scented shower creme and a soft puff.
"I really deserve this," she sighed.
That smug 'one of good guys' feeling was actually quite delicious.
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She decided to let her hair dry naturally, enjoying the cool freshness of it about her face and neck.
The satisfying sounds of the coffee machine firing up into life had just broken the silence of the kitchen when she looked up at the clock. It was ten o'clock - more than late enough to call the Charmings and check in on Emma (and, by extension, Henry). No point putting it off any longer, she supposed.
She reached into the pocket of her dressing gown and drew out her cellphone, selecting a speed-dial that she had begrudgingly created when Snow and Emma had returned from their old land, and it had become clear that Henry was going to be staying put for the time being.
Only two rings before Charming picked up, sounding a little breathless.
"David Nolan."
"David, it's Regina. I was just wondering..."
He cut her off, leaving her to gape a little at her phone. People did not just interrupt Regina Mills.
Or apparently, they did now.
"Regina? Er...perfect, actually. Look, Emma insisted on coming home with us once she woke up last night. Something about hospital bedsheets making her itch? I don't know. Anyway, now she and Henry are still sleeping, and someone's called from the mayor's office saying the courthouse was trashed last night. Snow and I are going to go take a look. Can you come over and watch the two of them please?"
Evidently, the phrase 'no rest for the wicked' was disgustingly biased.
"Of course," she sighed. "I was supposed to have Henry today anyway. Incidentally, did Emma have any answers for you about who it was that tied her up?"
"No. You were right. The last thing she remembers is passing out."
It was unsurprising, but still a blow to any investigation that they might hope to open.
"Right," she suddenly announced firmly, deciding that wallowing would get none of them anywhere. "I'll be there within half an hour."
The reply was one of genuine relief and gratitude.
"Thanks, Regina."
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Emma wasn't sure if it was the smell of pancakes that woke her, or the cannonball of Henry. Or perhaps they'd worked in conjunction with one another. All she knew for sure was that, one minute, she was asleep, and the next, she was very awake and very hungry. And being crushed by her eleven-year-old.
"Hey kid," she grunted from under the lump of son on top of her covers. "Promised you I wouldn't suddenly die in the night, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but I still thought I should come and make sure," he stated simply. Apparently, he wasn't giving any more than that.
"Who's cooking?" Emma asked, as she stretched out. Mentally, she took stock. A few aches and pains, and a slight throbbing in her head. Her wrists and ribs still felt pretty badly beaten up, but on the whole, it could have been worse. "And you really need to be right on top of me?"
"My other Mom's here," came Henry's answer to her question. "Grandma and Grandpa are investigating some vandalism or something so Mom's babysitting you...and yes."
Emma opened her mouth to object indignantly to both his phrasing and his blatant disregard for her whinging, but he cut her off by pointing to her bedside table.
"She told me to give you those," he told her, gesturing to the glass of water and a packet of aspirin that rested atop the cabinet. "My Mom, I mean. She said something about that Magic Fever thing, and then a word that I'm not supposed to repeat, and that she apologised for saying, and then she told me that she's gotten used to not having to watch her mouth."
Emma smirked in a good-natured sort of way as she imagined Regina so flustered.
"Could she possibly have said 'Magic Fever is an absolute bitch'?" she asked.
"You know, if I went downstairs and told her that you said that, she totally wouldn't put syrup on your pancakes," Henry told her, with a little frown creasing his brow.
"I don't know, kid," Emma retorted smugly. "I think you're underestimating how much sympathy the whole 'ass-kicking from a demon' thing can get a girl."
He finally shuffled off her belly then, but followed the action up by standing over her, wearing a smug little smirk that was so utterly and completely Regina Mills that it was a little chilling. Why did she always feel ten paces behind with this damned mother and son combo?
"I think you're underestimating my Mom," Henry informed her bluntly. She could have sworn that one of his eyebrows twitched in amusement.
And then he was off downstairs, yelling over his shoulder for her to hurry up.
Emma let her head flop back down on the pillow with an almighty sigh.
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It was one of those quirky little testaments to how much the relationship between Henry's two mothers had changed that, even as she was inhaling the heavenly aroma of her own potent black coffee, Emma wordlessly fetched cream and sweetener for a second mug. When she was done mixing, she placed the paler drink down on the worktop, next to where Regina was cooking.
"Thanks," the older woman grunted, barely glancing up from the pan.
"Welcome," came the tired little reply, as Emma allowed her limp curls to come entirely too close to both the cooking batter and the open flames from the gas hob.
She received a firm prod in the chest with a spatula by way of warning.
It was oddly fascinating to watch Regina work on breakfast. She had that air about her - that gleam of perfection and meticulousness - that people like Emma could only observe with awe. It was the sort of smooth, feline elegance that you're either born with or you aren't. And princess or no, Emma Swan would always possess precisely as much grace as a partially sedated duckling.
Eventually, the subject of her attentions slid her current pancake onto a plate and switched off the gas.
She passed the treat across to Henry, with a warning look that had clearly come to mean, over the years, 'don't use too much syrup, or I'll get you before the inevitable heart attack has a chance to'. Then she watched like a hawk as he ladled out sensible amounts of topping - including a handful of chopped strawberries - before giving a satisfied little nod, and turning to her coffee as Henry traipsed off to sit in front of the TV.
She took a careful sip of the hot drink, staring wordlessly at Emma over the rim of her mug.
Emma shrugged, clueless.
"Come here then!" Regina ordered in mock exasperation. Emma scowled, but Regina simply smirked, placing her coffee innocently back on the worktop.
She pulled Emma none-too-gently towards her by the hem of her PJ top, before pushing her arms up so that they were raised directly above her head.
"How does that feel?" she asked, her eyes raking thoughtfully over Emma's form. All the mirth was gone from her now.
"It's pulling on my ribs," Emma admitted through slightly gritted teeth. "My natural urge is to hunch."
Regina nodded, as though expecting as much.
"Stretch your fingers," she instructed bluntly.
The other woman did, for just a moment, before wincing sharply, letting her arms fall back to her sides.
"Wrists?" asked Regina.
"Yep."
The former mayor gave her one last look over before nodding once again.
"I know it hurts," she said, sympathy colouring the edges of her words, "But the healing actually seems to have taken very nicely. You'll be fine in a day or two."
"What, you're a doctor now?"
Emma's tone was as bitter as the coffee she now sipped from moodily. Clearly, the woman was not a gracious patient.
"Miss Swan, I was a witch Queen constantly at war," Regina snapped, less than gently. "I've healed more knights than you could probably count with that towering intellect of yours."
Obviously deciding that they could either row or stop right now, Emma simply threw the other woman a scowl before focussing back on her drink.
It was something she'd been doing more and more lately. More than anyone, Emma could sympathise with Regina's constant inner conflict. To the point where, sometimes, she would look about in disbelief at the other residents of the town, and wonder just how it was that they were so oblivious. Did they not see how hard the woman was working against such stupidly impossible odds? Would they all really be so perfect if things had worked out differently, and Regina had been one of those with a precious happy ending that could be lost?
So, occasionally, Emma was willing to throw a fight. It was worth it to see how Regina had learned to relax around her more than anyone else in Storybrooke, barring Archie and Henry.
"I'm sorry for implying that you're stupid," Regina choked out eventually. She looked dead ahead as she said it, resolutely avoiding Emma's gaze.
That was something else that had been happening more and more often of late. Regina and Archie had spent a lot of time talking about the difference between remorse and weakness. She still hadn't learned to apologise to anyone but Henry, and, even more recently, Emma, but she was trying her best with those two at least.
It was made easier by the way that Emma was always a gracious recipient - never once rubbing her sentiments in her face.
"Thank you," Emma replied sincerely, as she did every single time. "I'm sorry for being an asshole. I'm actually...well, I'm really grateful for what you did for me. I kinda thought I was done for, if I'm honest."
"You're welcome." She still wasn't looking her in the eye, but her words were warm.
They were silent for a moment, before Regina looked over at the other side of the apartment to check that Henry was still engrossed by his cartoons. Finally, she met Emma's gaze again.
"So your father told you how we found you then? Myself and Miss Lucas?"
Emma nodded grimly, her tone falling to a low whisper, mimicking Regina's.
"Kinda sick, isn't it?" she murmured.
"Indeed." Regina was more than ready to agree with the unsophisticated sentiment, her stomach swirling a little as she cast her mind back to sight of Emma's head lolling so obliviously beneath the bloody taunt. "And you really don't remember anything?" she forced out after a moment.
"Nope," came the careless reply. "Not a thing. I remember being chucked about like a softball for a bit, trying to summon up enough magic to get rid of the demon, then I hit the mirror and there was a lot of white, followed by a lot of black."
"Hmmm." Regina narrowed her eyes, looking for all the world like a scheming monarch once more. Emma was glad to have her on side this time. "It's what happened after the 'lot of black' that's concerning."
"You're telling me. David looked like he had murder in mind when he told me. I don't think he's gonna rest until they found out who did it."
"Yes, he said that as soon as they're done at the courthouse, he and your mother are going to talk to Red and Gold again. They're going to open up an official investigation."
"Yeah..." Emma frowned. "What's the deal with that courthouse thing?"
Regina shrugged, clearly unconcerned by the irrelevant subject.
"Someone broke in last night apparently," she replied dismissively. "Trashed the place. Probably bored teenagers who have just realised that they're trapped in a town full of the dullest idiots in existence."
"Well aren't you just a little ray of sunshine today?" Emma couldn't help but sass.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Regina drawled back, "I forgot how my subjects used to regale me as the 'Cheery Queen'."
There was another comfortable little lull before Regina regarded Emma with a suddenly scrutinising eye.
"How do you feel about what happened?" she wondered aloud.
Emma shrugged uncomfortably.
"That's a very touchy-feely question for you," she grumbled evasively.
"Oh do shut up," Regina snapped. "Someone tied you up and mocked you in your own blood. What does that do to a person?"
Clearly, this was not a subject to be broached right now, and Emma met her sharp gaze with a steely look of her own. Her features were colder than they had been towards the other woman for months now.
"I know what you're digging around for, Regina," she stated firmly, "And this isn't going to affect my ability to look after Henry. I am fine. One hundred percent."
Regina regarded her for a moment more before nodding, her own expression suddenly utterly unreadable.
"Good," she replied eventually. "Then go take a bath or something. You stink."
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Emma spent the day in sweats, alternating between groaning over her aches and pains, and strangely enjoying spending time with what was gradually becoming her very own odd little family unit.
To her surprise, Regina didn't take over Henry's project-making. In fact, she was so adamant that he apply his own learning, that she was little more than a glorified holder-in-place-of-papier-mache-and-the-like, offering scant input beyond the odd nugget of constructive criticism. Emma couldn't help but find that there was something gleeful about watching Snow White's Evil Queen herself, cross-legged on an island of newspaper, painstakingly applying poster paint to the surface of Jupiter.
Around mid-afternoon, Regina fixed them a late lunch. She rolled her eyes at the contents of the cupboards - apparently so able to find fault with Snow White that even the other woman's grocery choices were worthy of her disgust. Eventually, she cobbled together a vegetable soup and threw Emma an infinite number of disbelieving looks for dribbling it onto the tabletop.
Charming called a little after they'd finished eating, when Regina was up to her elbows in washing-up suds. She threw a look over her shoulder and with a grumble, Emma pulled herself off the couch and shuffled pathetically across the apartment to answer the ringing phone.
Apparently, Snow and Charming's conversations with Red and Rumple had been depressingly fruitless, so they'd decided to start going door-to-door to see if anyone had seen or heard anything that might be of help. David warned that they probably wouldn't be home until later that evening, and asked if Regina would mind sticking around at the apartment for a few hours more. Emma relayed the request to the woman in question who nodded with a dramatic roll of her eyes.
Emma could tell that it was just for show.
While Henry's work dried, they put a DVD on, Henry and Regina curled up on one couch, Emma stretched out on another. Regina had assured her that it was normal to still be feeling so weak and drowsy - her body still hadn't recovered from the amount of magic that she'd expelled the night before and was using today to let her know just how offended it was. Emma was asleep by the time the ending credits rolled up the screen, and Henry gave his mother an extra tight hug when she took in the sight of the rather pathetic blonde for a moment, before carefully draping a blanket over her resting form.
It was eight o'clock by the time the second call came in from Snow and Charming.
The sheriff's office was on fire.
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Yup, a shower scene with Regina. Fan service? Moi?