Hello,
Again, thank you to every one who's read, followed, favorite-d, or reviewed the story. This is a family-fic rather than a swanqueen fic, and I have no plans to abandon it.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Contains scenes from the pilot.
Chapter 3: A Regal Interlude
When she arrives home, five o'clock on the dot, she calls up to her son, and, receiving no response, assumes he is ignoring her, again, and begins the process of making dinner, along with a pie, in the hopes that, perhaps, that will get him to stop looking at her as if she is a monster.
Half an hour later she checks his room, and gets quite a shock when she realizes he's not there, before remembering that it's Thursday, meaning he's off with the cricket, and won't get home until six.
Another half an hour after that, she calls Archie, only to find out that her son didn't show up, and proceeds to tear apart the house, then goes back to her office, and last checks the tunneled area near her father's grave, looking for him.
Around eight, she bangs her head against a wall and calls Graham. At nine, she goes to the school, where no lights shine, and no one seems to exist. At ten, she calls Sydney, because he was a magic mirror in another life, and when he yields no response, she tells the Sheriff to take a break, that she'll call him, if he's still missing tomorrow. God, how she hopes that he isn't missing tomorrow.
In the meantime, she tries to remember how she used to be able to do magic, in a feeble attempt to get to her son. She tells herself that, at midnight, she'll go to Gold. Rumpelstiltskin might have conjured a son for her only to take him away, but Gold - well, she hopes he's less desperate, than that. Otherwise, there really is no hope for her left.
At quarter past ten, she sinks against the door, counts, as the seconds go by, and tells herself, that Henry is playing a prank. That, any moment, now, he will pop up, good as new, and he won't be angry and suspicious of her, anymore, like he has been for weeks, and she'll scold him, for making her worry before she hugs the life out of him, and everything will be fine as it has always been.
She does not last very long, before the tears fall, and all manner of horrible scenarios enter her head. What if he's been kidnapped? What if they took him back to the enchanted forest? What if he's dying? What if he got taken back to when she was the Queen? What if he's dead? What if she killed him?
Around twenty before eleven, she hears voices, outside, drawing her out of her stupor, and goes to investigate, only to come face to face with the exact person she's spent all night looking for.
She doesn't believe it, at first, sure it's a trick-
But then she's hugging him, and he's real and alive, and maybe now her heart won't beat straight out of her chest -
And then he rushes out of her grip, and she's standing, alone, with a woman who she's only just realized, is there. And was probably the one, who brought Henry back to her.
The thanks, so rarely given, from her, but so definitely necessary, is at the tip, of her tongue, before Henry's words come back, to her.
"You… you're his birth mother?"
But even as she asks, she realizes, that she really doesn't care, because this woman brought her son back. She'll care tomorrow, of course. Right now though, she's got her son back. Okay, so he won't talk to her, and her ran away from her, but he's still back, and she doesn't really care, about anything else, at the moment. She's just exhausted, and relieved. So when the woman replies to her question, with such an unsure and ridiculously sad, smile, she sighs and hopes that she won't regret this too much tomorrow.
With a slight smile of her own, she offers, "How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you've ever tasted?"
… … …
After two glasses, and standing there strangely comfortable and almost silent, except for the admission of their names, the alcohol begins to sink in, and Regina takes the chance to study and scrutinize the woman opposite her.
If she were normal, the cider would make her 'buzzed', or at least slightly less conscious, but Regina's skills of staying alert even while drunk, always the host, are well built in, even after 28 years of lying almost doormat, so instead, she has the upper hand.
"You don't seem like the kind of person to give up your son," she accuses, and doesn't expect it when Emma laughs.
It's a more of a snort, and a very short one at that, but Regina expects her to glare in distrust, or scrutinize her in return, and it's rather unsettling, for that not to happen.
"That is a very accurate statement."
She waits, hoping the other woman will elaborate.
"I grew up in the foster system," Emma starts, Regina watching as her eyes grow somber, staring into the distance, "swore I'd never subject a kid to that."
"What changed?" she asks, and Emma's eyes swivel back to meet hers.
The sad smile reappears. "Circumstances."
Their previous silence resumes, as Regina tries to find a way to work around the woman's refusal to disclose information, politely, of course.
She doesn't get the chance.
"Thank you, for loving him." The comment grates on her nerves, but before she can make a satisfactory retort, Emma continues. "He's your son, I'm not trying to take him away, he showed up on my doorstep and told me I was his birth mother, that's the only reason I know of him. But, I know what could have happened. So thank you, very much, for treating him as your son, instead of using him for money and dumping him on another's doorstep."
Honesty rings within her words, and Regina gives a nod to the blonde, in acceptance of her gratitude. Despite how much she wants to, Henry's birth mother is making it very hard for Regina to hate her.
"… mind if I stay a night?"
"Sorry?"
"If it wasn't a four hour drive back to Boston, I really would just leave, but," Regina hears nothing after Boston.
"You live in Boston?" She barely waits for the nod before she continues, speaking as she thinks, "Henry went all the way to Boston!? Does he have no …" she remembers Emma then, and, "Thank you, for driving him back."
If something had gone wrong… she knows the possibilities will feature prominently in her nightmares.
She turns her attention back to the blonde, who is speaking once again. Some things, are simpler to deal with than others.
"… know it's odd because I'm related to him, but would you mind if I stayed in the town one night, I'll leave first thing in the morning."
"I think, it would be better if you stay," Regina returns, attempting to be tall and imposing once again.
Emma's surprise is almost comical.
"I would prefer my son not run away again."
Her immediate understanding, less so.
"There's an inn not too far away - called Granny's."
"I passed it on the way."
"Of course."
She walks Emma to her car, expecting her to leave immediately, but she turns back as they reach door.
"Thank you," she says, again, leaving Regina to watch as she goes.
In the morning, she will consider her new mystery. Now she will ponder her son, along with another glass of alcohol.
Sometimes, she thinks being the evil queen was simpler.
