A/N – Right. Before I say anything else, I just want to address something that practically every one of you has said to me, and that's when Regina is going to open up/work through her anxiety and fears. It is coming, I promise! However, it's going to take some time.

I've deliberately made Regina the way she is because I wanted this to be about these two women helping each other, not just one or the other. But I am really trying to stay grounded and true to my own experience with these issues, and also to the characters. Regina's a tough nut to crack. She will, and when she does it will be a major part of the storyline, with several chapters devoted to doing it right. And I do mean that. I'm not Adam and Eddy.

Also, I know this one is kind of short, but the next few chapters will make up for it. Big thanks to every one of you reading and commenting and following and making me smile. Love you.

7. Not Fair

"So." Regina buried her hands in the pockets of her coat as she walked. She hadn't been allowed to hold Henry's hand in public for six months. "What are you making today?"

"Birdhouses." Henry told her cheerfully, shifting his backpack straps on his narrow shoulders. "We're just starting to make them today. I think we get to keep them when we're done, so we could put ours in the tree in the garden. I think I'd like to live there if I was a bird."

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Regina agreed. She forced herself to smile and nod back at a passing stranger. Emma was right – this town was far too friendly. "We could buy some bird feeders to go with it."

"Yeah!" Henry nodded enthusiastically. "Then we'd have loads of birds. That would be so cool."

"It would." Regina smiled, heart flooding with warmth and gratitude that she had a wonderful son who thought that housing 'loads of birds' was the epitome of cool. She breathed in, seeing the school gates rising up from the path a few feet ahead. "Listen. I have to take Emma to the hospital today. I should be back in time to pick you up but if not, use your key and Aunt Kathryn will be in to check on you, okay? I'll call you."

"Okay. But you should stop worrying so much." Henry told her, and before Regina could protest, he kept on talking, diving headfirst into the next random topic as only nine-year-olds could. "Emma's weird. I like her."

"She's not weird," Regina told him. She just needs a haircut. "That's not a nice thing to call people."

"I know, but I mean it in a nice way." Henry assured her cheerily. "She's a cyborg, and she likes Hawkeye."

"Is that one of the X-Men?" Regina tried, thinking back to the DVDs lined carefully in the cabinet under the TV.

"No!" Henry exclaimed, eyebrows drawing together. "He's one of the Avengers, Mom."

"Right," Regina nodded. At least she'd got the superhero part right. She stopped outside the school gates, flipping her hair behind her shoulder – it was at the most awkward length now – and leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the forehead, despite his wriggling protests. "Now go on. You go make us a birdhouse."

"I will." Henry assured her seriously, before catching the eye of a boy waiting inside the gate, who waved at him. He waved back and hurried towards him. Regina stood in the light grey air and watched Henry greet his friends and disappear into the elementary school building.

Once she'd heard the bell ring, she turned back toward the mayor's house and began walking to work. She and Henry were beginning to expertly navigate the neat grey streets of Storybrooke, which wasn't hard considering the size of the town. It was still very new and different, but Henry had settled in with ease and that was all Regina cared about.

As she walked, heels clicking against the pavement, Regina ran through her plan in her head.

Since the day she'd taken her to the beach, things had been getting better, physiotherapy mishap aside. Regina still wasn't sure what happened that day. Mary Margaret had sounded so distraught on the phone, and Emma's eyes had been red, but after a few minutes she'd seemed fine. A little dazed by something, but not a furious wreck. Maybe she was just restraining herself for Henry's sake.

With winter settling in around the town, there were going to be more opportunities for her plan. Storybrooke was exactly the kind of town that made a mountain of every molehill. Already, she'd had two flyers through her door about different Christmas fairs and markets, and a woman trying to sell her festive candles (who she'd shut the door on. It was November and Regina Mills did not suffer fools gladly).

So she could take Emma to those, and to the lighting of the Christmas tree in the town square later on, in December. There had to be some New Years celebrations as well, when that eventually rolled around – that would convey a nice message to the quadriplegic woman.

But for today, it was just Emma's latest check up at the general hospital.

Regina reached the mayor's house quickly and let herself in through the back, making her way through to the annex. It was already unlocked when she tried the door, so she slipped in quietly and made her way towards the low buzz of the radio.

"Morning," She called, turning the door into Emma's room.

"Hey," Emma looked up when she came in, not exactly smiling, but not as deadpan as she'd been the first few days. Just that sent a thrill through Regina's stomach.

"You ready for your check up?" She asked expectantly.

Emma raised an eyebrow and half-rolled her eyes, huffing and blowing the tangled blonde curls back from her face "Let's just get this done, okay?" She paused, apparently psyching herself up and thinking of something else. "By the way, I wanna go Christmas shopping tomorrow, so you can just get here at normal time but we can go out around twelve."

"You want –" Regina blinked at her. "You want to go?"

"Yeah, I have to get my mom something." Emma nodded. Regina kept staring at her, lips parted, almost curling into a smile. She shrugged. "What?"

"Nothing." Regina smiled briefly, eyes never leaving hers. "I'm just glad you care."

Triumph building, Regina moved around the back of the chair to take the handles. Emma was already dressed in actual clothes and not sweatpants for a change, which was a bonus that just added to the sense of victory that was slowly building in her.

So she wheeled her round to the front of the house, the two of them settling into the light, companionable silence that seemed to be growing more and more frequently through the space between them.

-0-

"I don't think we've met before. My name is Victor Whale, I've been one of Emma's specialists for the past year."

Emma sat back in her chair, awkwardly skating her fingertips over the armrest. She watched as Regina leaned over the doctor's desk to shake his hand, before sitting back in the blue hospital chair beside Emma, brushing the dark hair back over her shoulders. "Regina Mills." She replied. "Emma's carer."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you but we should get to the point." Dr Whale nodded, opening up one of the files from his desk. Overhead, the fluorescent lights spilled harsh yellow light over the room. It stung Emma's eyes. Whale glanced over the papers inside. "This all looks absolutely fine. No further muscle or nerve deterioration."

"Great." Emma muttered. Regina shot her a look. She rolled her eyes and then repeated, more enthusiastically, "Really, great."

"So that's good news, correct?" Regina pressed. Emma glanced over her. She was sitting with her spine poker-straight in her chair, hands folded over her knee. Her eyes never left the doctor for a second.

"It's good, but if I'm being honest, Miss Mills, it's not exactly news." Whale explained. "She's stable. Exactly the same as she's been for twelve months. We'll still run the other tests, continue these monthly check ups, but any change is... Highly unlikely, to say the least."

Emma sighed, dropping her head back against the chair. "I'm the same as I always am."

"Yes. It could be a whole lot worse," Whale reminded her. Then he reached for a sheet of paper the other side of his desk, picking up a ballpoint pen and scribbling something down. "I've signed you for another course of anti-spasm pills, and some more NSAIDs, just in case you need them." He looked up, handing the prescription across the desk to Regina. "You can collect them from the pharmacy on the second floor."

"Thank you, Doctor." Regina forced a smile – Emma could tell that she forced it – and folded the prescription carefully inside her purse.

"Yeah, thanks," Emma made herself say, more for Regina's sake than for hers or Whale's.

And then Regina stood up sharply, shook hands with Whale again, for some reason, and stepped around the back of her chair to push her out into the hospital corridor. The wheels whirred against the polished linoleum.

"You were weirdly nice back there," Emma said, looking at the posters of cats hanging in there and STD symptoms (not on the same poster, thank god) while Regina wheeled her back to the elevators. She hated hospitals. The air was sharp and antiseptic, the atmosphere low, the fluorescent lights too fake and bright. Everything smelled too clean.

"I was professional, there's a difference," Regina corrected. "Anyway, someone had to make up for you. Not a fan of men who dye their hair the same colour as their skin?"

Emma snorted lightly. That was another thing she'd discovered the past few days – since she'd seen her with Henry had it was like a veil had lifted, she'd been finding these little quirks like pieces of gold – Regina was funny. Not the swearing, slapstick brand of funny Emma used to like. But she had a dry, bracing king of sarcasm that was hard not to enjoy. Particularly when you'd been as bitter for as long as Emma Swan.

"You got me," Emma joked half-heartedly. "He's like, my least favourite doctor."

"Oh, you have favourites now?" Regina cocked a perfect eyebrow, drawing Emma to a stop so she could press the elevator button. It didn't take more than a few seconds to arrive.

"Yeah," Emma told her as she pushed her through the opening elevator doors. "I'm here for eight hours some days, I gotta do something."

Regina didn't reply, just stood as the elevator took them down to the second floor. It left her words hanging dejectedly in the air for a few minutes, until they seemed miserable and pointless like everything she said. Emma wished she could see her face.

They reached the pharmacy pretty quickly and put her prescription into the queue, and Regina wheeled her through the antiseptic-smelling waiting room, sitting down beside her. They sat in silence for a few moments, waiting.
Emma found herself sneaking glances at Regina out of boredom or interest. She was staring at the opposite wall, jaw tight. Her hands were folded in her lap, and they kept moving. Her gaze flickered down to them and then back up. Emma glanced away and down at the floor before she caught her looking.

With every passing minute, the clock on the wall seemed to tick louder. Emma stretched her fingers against the armrests, glancing absently at the TV every now and again. It was on a shopping channel. She was used to this – waiting around, being bored.

Regina, apparently, not so much.

The brunette stood up sharply from her chair, taking a few clicking steps staring around the room. Emma frowned, glancing up at her. Because she didn't look bored. She looked upset. Her brown eyes were shining and hard, her lips were pursed into a tight line, brow furrowed, calves tensed, arms folded tightly. She ran a hand through her hair.

"Hey, hey," Emma's heart seemed to tighten; she couldn't tear her eyes from the other woman. Worry jumped in her heart and creased her brow. "You okay?"

"I just –" Regina turned sharply away, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her jaw was clenched, defensive. "I don't like hospitals."

Emma nodded understandingly, although she didn't believe that was why she was upset for one second. She might have been pretty much completely detached from the human race but she wasn't stupid; she was kind of becoming tuned in to the subtle hints and tics of the one person she'd accidently let spent every day around her. Well, she didn't really let her. It just happened.

"Well it won't be much longer," Emma told her, half-shrugging. "We'll just get the meds and go."

Regina pursed her lips and nodded. She nodded again, before turning her dark gaze back to her. She swallowed; Emma watched her throat bob and contract. "Have you really spent all day here before?"

"Yeah," Emma shrugged as best as she could. "But it's not a big deal. It's not like I have anything better to do. That was more at the start of all this anyway." She paused, tilting her head and trying to gauge the brunette's response. "Regina, seriously. What's up?"

"It's not fair!" Regina said suddenly. Her voice had risen with the colour in her cheeks. "It's not fair."

"What?" Emma asked softly, feeling a slight frown, mouth downturned. "Your job?"

"Your life!" Regina exclaimed. Oh, Emma thought, gaze flickering over the other woman. Regina was standing stiffly, mouth a tight line. "And I know you don't want to be pitied and I'm not pitying you, I'm not pitying anyone. It's just not fair."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry. It's just – what have I ever done to deserve to be up and walking around like this when you're... What have you ever done to –" She shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing. Neither of us did anything for our lot in life. We just got it. And it's not fair."

Regina dropped elegantly into the chair beside her. She shook her head, shining dark eyes trained on the polished linoleum, hand flying to her forehead. "I'm sorry. I don't..." A shaky breath left her lungs slowly. It was the least composed she'd ever seen her. And maybe the most honest.

"Shh, hey, hey," Emma heard herself say, gently, urgently.

And then, all of a sudden she was feeling more than she'd felt for two and a half years. Well, she was feeling one thing, really, but she was feeling it harder than she'd felt anything for a long time: she wanted to touch her. Suddenly, achingly wanted to put a comforting hand on Regina's arm or the small of her back or maybe just find out what her hair would feel like between her fingers.

Regina was still sitting beside her, jaw clenched tight, eyes huge and shining, emotion written across her face in a way Emma had never seen before. It made her stomach knot and her chest tighten and her heart and mind flash with an unfamiliar feeling. Almost protectiveness.

She wanted to be able to touch her.

Well, she thought, frowning as she realised. That's new.