Chapter Two
"Wait here," Emma told Little Regina, as she headed over to the Mercedes to get the keys to Regina's house. She grabbed her own keys out of her Bug locked both cars before heading over to take Regina's hand again. Adult Regina could have poofed both vehicles out of the cemetery, but Emma hadn't learned that one yet, so she would have to leave them there for now.
"How does that carriage work without magic or horses?" Regina asked.
"It's… hard to explain. This world is different than what you know. You're just gonna have to trust me when I say this stuff is safe, okay?"
Regina nodded. "I'm sorry for crying before," she said, much more quietly.
"It's okay, you were scared. You don't have to apologize for that," Emma replied.
"It wasn't ladylike," said Regina.
"Ladylike? You're not even a lady, you're a kid. You're allowed to cry. That's what kids do."
"That's what babies do," Regina corrected her.
"Is that what your mother told you?" Emma asked. Regina nodded. Emma fought the urge to tell her her mother was an idiot, because she was pretty sure that Regina at five probably thought her mother hung the moon. What kid wouldn't? "Well, you're staying with me right now, and I say it's okay to be scared and to cry, not matter how old you are."
"It's unbecoming of a princess to display her emotions publically," Regina said, raising her little chin haughtily.
"Unbecoming of a princess, huh?" Emma said with a smirk. She didn't care how many private etiquette tutors Regina probably had as a child, that was not the vocabulary of a five-year-old. That was Regina regurgitating Cora's words, verbatim. Emma guessed she had probably heard that a hundred times, at least. "Well, I'm a princess and a direct heir to the throne, and I say displaying your emotions is perfectly fine."
"You don't seem like a princess," Regina said. "Not any princess I've ever met."
"I'm not like any princess you've ever met," Emma agreed, as they approached Regina's house.
"This is not a palace," Regina pointed out.
Emma shrugged. "It's not my house. It belongs to a friend of mine, but we're gonna stay here for now. I'll be sure to let her know you don't approve."
Regina looked up at Emma, her brown eyes wide and her mouth gaping slightly. "Please don't!"
"I was kidding," Emma said, rolling her eyes. She had never before met a child who took everything quite so seriously. "And don't worry, you're not gonna see the owner of this house, anyway. You'll be back home before she comes back, trust me."
"Okay," Regina nodded, looking back at the house. "Is this what all the homes in this place look like?"
"Yeah, but they're not all as big as this one. It's different, but you'll get used to it," Emma assured her, as she used Regina's key to unlock the front door.
"Henry?" she called out, as they walked into the foyer. She knew he would be home soon, if he wasn't already.
"My father is here?" Regina asked, suddenly sounding hopeful.
Shit, Emma thought to herself. She forgot for a moment that Regina had named Henry after her father. "No, my son is also named Henry. I thought he might be home already."
"Home? Your son lives with your friend?" Regina asked.
"You don't miss anything, do you?" Emma said, smiling, before changing the subject. "Are you hungry? How about lunch."
Regina turned and looked around for a moment, before turning back to Emma, her head cocked to the side. "There's no one here," she commented.
"I know. I told you my friend won't be back for a while," Emma reminded her.
"There's no staff," Regina replied.
"Oh yeah, no, there's not."
"Then who will make lunch?" Regina asked.
"Um, that would be me, kid," Emma laughed again.
"Princesses don't prepare food," Regina said, narrowing her eyes at Emma again.
"Well, here they do. I even know a Queen who cooks a mean lasagna. But you've gotta watch out for her apple turnovers," Emma said, laughing at her own bad joke. Regina just stared at her. "Hey, lighten up, kid."
Regina looked like she might cry as she followed Emma into the kitchen. Emma felt bad for her, knowing how terrifying this all must be. Everything here was different and strange and scary, and she was stuck in the care of a woman she didn't know. Worst of all, it wasn't like Emma could bring her to her parents, since they were both dead – not that she would have handed her over to Cora, even if she were still alive.
"How about grilled cheese?" Emma asked, when she found bread on Regina's counter and cheese in the fridge.
"I don't know what that is," Regina replied, pouting a little.
"It's good. It's kid food. You'll like it," Emma smiled, as she found a frying pan and got to work. Regina watched her with a mix of trepidation and curiosity.
"Everything here is so strange," Regina commented, looking around the kitchen.
"I know, but you'll get used to it. You like apple juice?" Emma asked, as she pulled the juice jug out of the fridge. Regina nodded, and Emma wasn't surprised.
When the sandwiches were done, Emma lead Regina into the dining room, and set her up with her sandwich and juice. Regina stared at her plate, perplexed.
"What's wrong?" Emma asked.
"You forgot silverware," Regina replied.
Emma laughed. "No, it's finger food. Like this," she explained, picking up half of her sandwich and taking a bite.
For her part, Regina looked utterly revolted. At the same time, she was hungry, so she decided to try it. She took a dainty bite and chewed it slowly, while Emma watched her with a smile. She knew Regina would probably roast her when she was back to normal for feeding her grilled cheese as a child, but right now, Emma was loving it.
"How is it?" Emma asked.
"It's… odd," Regina admitted, but she still continued to eat.
"Mom?" Henry's voice called out from the foyer, "are you home? I saw your car and Emma's car at the vault but no one was there!"
"Wait here. Keep eating, I'll be right back," Emma told Regina, as she got up to stop her son before he came into the dining room.
"Mom?" Henry asked, confused, as Emma entered the foyer, "what's going on."
"Um, listen kid… your mom had a bit of a magical mishap," Emma said.
"Magical mishap? What do you mean? Where is she?"
"She's… here. Sort of. She spilled a potion on herself. It was a rejuvenation potion."
"Rejuvenation? Like, something to make you younger?" Henry asked.
"Yeah," Emma nodded.
"How much younger?"
Emma let out a short laugh. "Well, come and see for yourself," she said, motioning for him to follow her into the dining room.
"Henry, this is Regina," Emma said, when they entered the room. Regina quickly got up from her chair and offered Henry a small curtsey. "And Regina, this is my son, Henry."
Henry gaped at Little Regina for a few moments, until Emma jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. "Oh, hi, Regina. It's nice to meet you," he said, forcing a smile. He turned back to Emma. "I'm gonna, um, go put my backpack away."
"Yeah, take a minute, we'll be here," Emma said, offering him a small smile.
She sat back down when Henry headed up the stairs, and Regina followed suit.
"Why did he say 'my mom and Emma' if you're Emma?" Regina asked.
"What?"
"Your son, Henry. He said 'my mom and Emma'. I thought you were his mother?" Regina pressed.
She really doesn't miss anything, Emma thought to herself. "I don't know," Emma shrugged, not sure what to say. "He must have been confused."
Regina nodded. She seemed to accept that answer, as she started eating the second half of her sandwich. Henry joined them at the table a few minutes later. It never ceased to amaze Emma how quickly he could adapt to things like this. She supposed that was a result of all the magical craziness he had seen over the past few years.
"How long is she going to be… with us?" Henry asked.
"I'm not sure," Emma admitted, as she passed Henry the uneaten half of her grilled cheese. "I talked to Gold, he doesn't know either. But not forever."
Henry nodded, as he studied Regina's little face. Her eyes were the same, but everything else was different. So young and innocent. His mother, before her life had taken a nose-dive into darkness.
"Does she have M-A-G-I-C?" Henry asked, turning back to Emma.
"I can spell," Regina indignant little voice piped up.
"Sorry," Henry said, flushing a little.
"She does," Emma nodded, "but she's not allowed to use it. Her mother's rules."
"Oh," Henry nodded, and flashed Emma a knowing look that she hoped meant he understood that Little Regina thought her mother was still alive. "I'm gonna go play my game."
Emma smiled as Henry got up to leave the room. She knew Regina didn't like him playing video games before his homework was done, but she figured she could make an exception today. This was a lot to take in, he probably need to zone out for a while.
When Regina finally finished eating, Emma gathered up their plates to take them to the kitchen, before bringing Regina to the living room, where Henry was playing some sort of fighter game. This was a new one Emma hadn't seen before. She would have to get him to let her play later.
Emma failed to notice the panicked looked on Regina's face, as the child stared at the game on the screen. It was loud and violent, and she had never seen a TV before, and almost instantly she started to cry.
"Hey, Regina, it's ok, it's not real," Emma said, as she reached out for Regina's shoulders, to try to lead her out of the room and away from the game. Regina flinched at Emma's touch, and immediately Emma noticed the lights flickering and the books on the shelves start shaking.
"Henry, turn the game off," Emma said, as she kneeled down in front of Regina, meeting her at eye level. "Hey, sweetie, it's ok. It's not real and it can't hurt you."
Regina looked around at the flickering lights. "Are you doing that?" she squeaked out.
"No, honey, you are. It's your magic. You need to calm down," Emma said, trying to sound as calm as possibly. She wondered if that was perhaps why Cora kept such rigid control over Regina's emotions. Maybe that's how she kept her magic under control.
"I can't!" Regina cried.
Emma put her arms out to Regina. "You can, it's okay. Come here, sweetie."
This time, Regina stepped forward, and fell into Emma's arms. Emma squeezed her tight, and stroked her hair. "It's ok. You're safe. I'm not going to let anything hurt you, I promise."
Slowly, as the child calmed down, the flickering and the shaking shelves stopped, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief.
When Regina had stopped crying, Emma pulled back from their embrace and cupped her little face in her hands. "Are you ok?" Emma asked.
Regina nodded. "I'm sorry."
"It's alright. It wasn't your fault," Emma said, smiling reassuringly at her.
"I'm not supposed to use magic. I'm supposed to keep it under control," Regina said, pouting.
"It was an accident," Emma said. It occurred to her then that perhaps Regina wasn't apologizing because she was actually sorry. She was apologizing because she thought she was in trouble. "I'm not going to tell your mother, don't worry. You're not going to get in trouble."
Regina visibly relaxed at that, to Emma's relief.
"Maybe you can sit with Henry and read a book instead?" Emma suggested, before turning to Henry. "I've gotta call Gold."
Henry nodded, and went over to the shelf to find an appropriate book to read to a small child, while Emma helped Regina up onto the couch. When they were situated, Emma headed into the other room and called Gold.
"Problem, dearie?" Gold's obnoxiously condescending voice rang through the phone.
"Yes. She has magic," Emma said, the frustration already evident in her voice.
"Well, that's hardly news."
"I was under the impression she had it under control. She said her mother doesn't allow her to use it. But she got upset a few minutes ago and caused a small earthquake in the living room."
"Did you really think a five-year-old had her magic under control? She didn't use it because Cora blocked her magic with her own. Regina wasn't allowed to learn spells or use magical objects. Cora couldn't forbid her from using magic; it's innate. Instinctual. That would have been like forbidding her to breathe. So Cora blocked it and Regina didn't know."
"And Cora's dead so her magic doesn't work anymore," Emma sighed.
"Now you're getting it."
"So what do I do?" Emma asked.
"Either block it, or teach her how to control it."
"I don't know how to do either of those," Emma protested.
"Figure it out, dearie," Gold replied, before hanging up on Emma.
Fan-fucking-tastic, Emma thought to herself, as she glanced back in at the little brunette sitting beside her son, so much for not being stuck with a magical five-year-old.
