A/N: Continued gratitude for the warm reception that has gotten. I am trying to do my best to get the first seven chapters which are already written edited and up quickly, but I can't promise one a day. I'll try.
Warnings: For this chapter, not really.
Enjoy!
STORYBROOKE, MAINE - JANUARY, 2023
It's just after four in the afternoon, and she's standing in the middle of the park, a gray and blue beanie on her head, and a thick parka wrapped around her. Her green eyes are focused with frightening intensity on the strange symbols that have been splashed in bright red spray-paint across every available surface in this typically sedate little part of Storybrooke. Little asshole delinquents, she imagines, and there was a time when she'd been one of them, but those years are far behind her now, and mostly, Emma's just irritated because this is going to cause her a lot of paperwork.
What's even more annoying to her, though, is the fact that these strange symbols have been popping up all over town for the last few days, and she has no idea why. Which irks the shit out of her. It's probably just a bunch of idiot kids being idiots, but if it's something more than that and Storybrooke is developing some kind of fairytale kid gang problem, she's going to be incredibly pissed off about it.
Her phone rings and she glares down at the sound for a moment before shoving her gloved hands into her pocket, and after some degree of fumbling thanks to cold fingers, finally manages to answer it. "Yeah?"
"Hey," David says softly, and immediately Emma knows that something is wrong. It's his wary tone and his unusual hesitance, and well she's a lot like her father, and neither one of them tend be very cautious.
A bull in a china shop is a more accurate way of describing both of them.
"Is everything all right?" she asks while he searches for words. "Is –"
"Your mom is fine and I'm fine and Henry is fine," he replies immediately because he understands the need to verify the safety of family first. Which brings him back to the whole reason for the call. He sighs. "But something has happened. You really need to get over here as soon as you can. There's something that you need to see, and no, it can't wait until this evening."
"Okay," Emma replies. "I'll wrap up here and be on my way."
"Good."
"Everyone is okay, right?" she pushes again.
"We're okay," he replies, and she knows a dodge when she hears one.
"All right, what's going on now?" Emma demands as she rushes through the front door of the loft. At almost forty years of age, the sheriff is a little bit less spry than she used to be, but she's still lean and tall, and still she carries herself in the same defiant way that she always has. To this day, she still hasn't quite accepted her role as the Savior, but she fights being the daughter Snow White and Princess Charming a whole lot less now.
They're her parents, and she's proud of them and she's proud of her family.
David offers her the smallest of smiles. He's sitting on the couch with Snow, an arm looped gently around her waist. "Hello to you, too." He comments before standing up and crossing over to the bar. He picks up a sheet of white paper off the counter, and then thrusts the letter into her hands.
"Read it," Snow says after a few seconds have passed.
Hearing the urgency in Snow's voice, she doesn't bother arguing with her. Instead, She drops down her head and starts doing exactly that, emotions rapidly playing across her face as she takes in the words printed neatly onto the paper. Words from a woman she'd thought long dead. After a moment, she looks up at David and then flicks her gaze over towards Snow, her eyes wide and a question sitting on her lips.
David nods his head in the affirmative. "It's her."
"Regina's alive," Emma murmurs. "I'd given up. He told me that he'd finally given up, too."
"Well now he doesn't need to," Snow says, making it clear what her answer to Regina's question will be. "I want to bury the past, Emma," her mother practically gushes out. "I want to bring Regina home, and make our family whole."
"Yeah," Emma agrees. "It's time. Henry is going to be…wow."
"He's going to be ecstatic," David concurs. He gestures to the letter again. "But I think we should see her before Henry does. Maybe I'm reading that wrong, but it sounds like she might not quite...look like she used to."
"You think she's got some kind of permanent damage," Emma notes, her eyes scanning back to the lines where Regina had mentioned limitations. It certainly suggests that there had been damage, and the very fact that the Home Office had kept her captive for as long as they had reinforces that thought to her in a way that makes her stomach do a brutal flip-flop.
"I don't know, but if she does, we should know about it in advance so that we can prepare Henry. He may have told you that he'd given up, but -"
"But I think we all know that he never did," Emma replies with a smile and wry chuckle of bemusement. "I guess I'm taking a drive to Bangor."
BANGOR, MAINE - JANUARY, 2023
The address listed on the business card (one that rather blandly reads MILLS ACCOUNTING) that Regina had put in the envelope leads Emma to a small condominium complex in the heart of Bangor. Her specific unit appears to be on the bottom floor (which seems strange to Emma because she'd have thought Regina would prefer the safety of being higher up) and it's clearly upper-scale. The doorman just stares at her when she tries to beg and plead her way in. Finally, with an agitated sigh that she doesn't hide well at all, she agrees to let him check to see if the "Ms. Mills is up for visitors today".
A strange statement and one that immediately sets Emma on edge.
"Tell her it's Emma Swan," she tells him as he lifts up the phone and brings it to his ear, all the while wondering if such an announcement will get her an invite inside or a quite denial. Neither would surprise her at this point.
After a moment on the phone - presumably with Regina, the doorman nods. "All right, apparently you're good, Miss Swan. Hers is the second door on the left. You can't miss it since there's only two condos down that way."
"Thanks," Emma says, and then, because she never really was good at just accepting what's been given to her without asking for more, "It's been a very long time since I've seen…my friend. Is there anything I should know?"
He chuckles. "Nothing that's my place to say. If you'll excuse me." And with that, he turns his back on her, and moves to assist someone else who has come to the door. If he notices her staring at his back, he doesn't show it.
Swallowing her irritation and the growing trepidation she feels in her gut, Emma finally makes her way down the long hallway. Once she reaches the plain white door marked 103, she takes a deep breath and then she knocks.
There's a brief pause - one where she's quite sure that Regina won't open the door to her, and then suddenly, it does open, and the former Mayor of Storybrooke, former Evil Queen of the Enchanted Forest is standing in front of her, smiling thinly at her. "Miss Swan," Regina rumbles, and damned if there isn't a hint of what almost sounds like familiar affection there.
"Regina," she replies, her eyes sweeping rapidly over the older woman.
Regina is about six years older than her, in her early to mid forties (she'd be about 44, Emma believes, though she's not exactly sure), and though her posture isn't nearly as straight and she looks far from the imposing leader of before, there's still something indescribably undeniably regal about her.
That is until Emma sees the cane rested uncomfortably in her hand. And that is until she sees the way that Regina leans heavily on the cane simply so that she can step out of the way and let her former enemy into her condo.
"I take it Snow received my letter."
"She did."
"Good. I wasn't sure…well." Regina nods as she limps her way over to the couch and sits down. She gestures to Emma to join her. "Please." Then, as if remembering her manners, "Would you like something to drink, dear?"
"No, I'm good for now." Emma replies as she seats herself just a few inches away from where Regina is on the astoundingly comfortable sofa. Once settled there, the sheriff finds herself suddenly unable to stop herself from blurting out, "What the hell happened to you? How did you get hurt?"
She's greeted with a sharply lifted eyebrow from the former queen, and she almost sighs in relief because it means that despite whatever injuries Regina might have suffered during her captivity, the snarky sassy spicy woman who'd infuriated her is still in there. Amazing how much she's missed that.
"Still as tactful as always, I see, Sheriff."
Emma shrugs unapologetically. "Sorry. How about, how are you?"
"I'm fine, dear. As for what happened, well those idiots found a few unique ways to torture me over the three years that I was their guest. The ironic part is that I think that the boy who originally kidnapped me –"
"Greg Mendell?"
"I knew him as Owen Flynn, but yes. I think he would have killed me quickly; he was in it for pain and revenge. The Home Office, though; well, I was lab rat to them and they wanted to see..." she shakes her head and then waves her hand dismissively. "I survived, and in the end, that's all that matters."
"But you have nerve damage, I take it."
"Significant nerve damage," Regina corrects. "Enough where some days my body doesn't work as it should. Humiliating, but again, I survived."
"Yeah, you did," Emma nods. "So, now what?"
"You tell me," Regina replies. "Why are you here?"
"Because my mother received your letter."
"But why are you here, Emma?"
"People still can't leave town. Well except for me and Henry."
Regina frowns deeply. "I have a feeling that I should understand exactly what you're referring to, but, I'm afraid that there's much locked away inside my mind. All to say, dear, you'll have to explain what you mean."
"After the curse broke, we found out that anyone who crossed the town line would revert back to their cursed personalities. Gold had a way for people to get outside when they absolutely must, but it's risky and not used very often because if something were to go wrong, they'd be stuck outside."
"Ah. I see."
"Memory loss?" Emma prompts, forcing herself not to contort her face; she knows that the last thing Regina needs right now is pity. This woman in front of her clearly isn't the Regina from ten years ago, but her pride is still strong.
"Some." She lifts her head. "So you're here because Snow sent you?"
"Yes and no. My mother wants you home, but I do as well." She laughs humorlessly. "You know, I searched everywhere for you for a couple of years, but I kept coming up empty, and every time I had to tell Henry that I'd failed him again, his heart broke a bit more. He's a strong kid because he's ours, but...we he needs you, Regina. He needs his mom."
"How is he?"
"You saw him," Emma notes with a smirk.
"For a few minutes. Waiting tables. Why is he doing that?"
"You mean because of the trust fund you had set up for him?" Emma shrugs. "That's where he's my kid. He wants to do everything himself, and that means paying for whatever he can. Right now it's just his apartment there, but he's an independent kid, Regina; he doesn't mind a little work."
"Is he happy?"
"I think so."
Regina smiles at that. "Good," she says. Then, the joy falling away into something terribly sad and heartbroken, she says, "Then maybe I shouldn't –"
"However happy he is doesn't change the fact that Henry misses you like crazy, Regina," Emma tells her. "He's never given up hope that we'd find you one day, and now we have. There's no chance – no way – that I'm not bringing you home. Not unless you really don't want to go. And I think we both know that you do so how about you pack a bag, I grab a soda and then we hit the road and head back to Storybrooke. And our son."
"So much has changed," Regina muses, her hands coming together atop the cane in a way that reminds Emma uncomfortably of Mr. Gold.
"Yeah," Emma agrees. Then, smiling. "But you're still a pain in the ass."
That earns her a short bark of laughter. "So I am, dear. So I am."
STORYBROOKE, MAINE - JANUARY, 2023
The drive back to Storybrooke is quiet, but that's mostly because Regina sleeps through most of it thanks to the painkiller she takes before she gets into the car; long drives hurt her badly, and she doesn't want to look weak when she sees her son for the first time in ten years. She won't be able to hide the cane or her limp from him, but she'll be damned if she looks frail.
"I know you're probably thinking of grabbing a room at the inn for the night, but why don't you crash at my place instead," Emma offers. "Henry will be in town tomorrow morning; I asked him to come in for a party."
"You have a spare room?"
"I have his room, and I promise you, he'd be fine with you staying in it."
"Very well," Regina allows. Partly because the idea of being so close to the things that had meant - and perhaps still mean - something to her son is so very enticing, and partly because she's already damned sore and tired.
What she gets in return from Emma is a small smile.
An infuriating smile.
The kind that tells her - has always told her - that Emma sees right through her, and knows exactly what she's thinking right now.
Regina is sound asleep when the car slides over the town line, and though she really should be keeping her eyes on the road, Emma can't help but spare a look over at the uncomfortably dozing former queen. She'd been wondering if the return of magic to her blood after so many years away would cause a reaction – perhaps a sudden awakening – but there's nothing.
So Emma keeps on driving.
Henry's bedroom is clean enough for a college boy who no longer lives in it, but it looks like the abode of a high school student with schizophrenic interests. There are comic books everywhere, but also video games and a baseball, and a drawing pad and comics and then there are pictures.
Of him standing in the middle of this very room dressed in a charcoal suit and a green tie. He looks like he's about fifteen years, and he's smiling at the camera in a way that feels like he's looking right at someone specific.
There are other pictures, too. Of him with friends and family.
Of him with Emma.
Of him with Regina.
She picks the photo up, pulls it to her breast, crosses over to his bed, drops down onto the soft mattress and then - with watery tears shining bright in her dark eyes - falls asleep with the picture of him against her heart.
To say that Regina is nervous in the morning would be an understatement.
Her anxiety is off the charts, and for a few frightening moments, this fear causes her brain to short out and everything goes cold and numb and fuzzy.
Frantically, she forces herself to remember her breathing exercises, the same ones that the doctors had urged her to utilize after she'd woken up in the hospital in severe pain and unable to remember her own name.
She takes a pill and then curses herself for the need to do so.
And then she inhales and exhales again. And reminds herself that Henry deserves to see the best part of her after all these years. Not the wrecked and still broken and still terribly lonely and sad part of her that remains.
"Need water?" Emma asks from the doorway, a cup in her hand.
She almost tells the sheriff off, but the look Regina sees there - not pity, but understanding - silences her and she takes the cup of water instead. "I get headaches," she says by way of explanation. "When I get stressed."
"Today is stressful," Emma allows, never one to bullshit anyone with false statements. "But you know what? All Henry is expecting is his mother."
"Do I really look like the mother he remembers?" Regina snaps back, her face reddening with frustration. She gestures angrily towards the cane.
"Actually, yeah, you do. That cane doesn't change who you are to him. Or that you love him and he loves you. Neither do your headaches." Emma says the last word like she understands that the headaches are just a symptom of the overall anxiety, but isn't willing to actually embarrass Regina with the truth of her knowledge. It's enough that they both know she knows.
"When will he be here?"
"He just called from the city limits," Emma replies. "He's going to pick up my parents and then come over. They're expecting breakfast."
"You can cook now?"
"Ah, there's the Madam Mayor I'd missed so much."
"You really missed me, did you, dear?"
"Everyone needs a sparring partner, Regina."
"Well, I suppose that's true enough," Regina chuckles, some of the panic finally sliding away from her. Then, quietly, "So, how do we do this?"
Emma grins. "I say we surprise them."
TBC...
Another reminder: if you're interested in reading the unedited original 7 chapters for this story a bit early, they can be found on my Tumblr page at sgtmac7