A/N: Hey all, gratitude for the kind words. With this chapter, we are at the halfway point. 8 to go. All will be up before the end of next Sunday. Thanks!
Time passes.
Summer slips lazily into Autumn and then leaves are falling and changing colors and it's getting cooler and darker.
All the things that Regina enjoys.
Still, it's strange how not used to this feeling - that of time actually passing and changing - she is, but as the days and weeks trickle by and her stomach continues to expand as the child within her grows, Regina finds herself thinking more and more about the past and the things that she's been trying to leave behind her. Dark moments in time that she's told herself that dwelling upon could only do her more harm than good.
She still believes that and yet as she stares out at her backyard through the kitchen window, her hand rested upon her growing belly, she finds herself remembering a cold evening outside of a bar. It's so terribly easy to think about what might have been and though she knows better, Regina can't quite stop herself from wondering about the different roads her life might have taken had she just walked into the pub and approached Robin Hood.
Realistically, she knows that things very likely would have gone quite poorly for her; the King certainly would not have taken well to his trophy wife leaving him for a disgraced and disowned nobleman's son freshly home from war.
The end result of her walking into that bar and walking up to the archer probably would have been the death of Robin and the destruction of her heart for good. Bu what if it hadn't? What if she and Robin had hit it off and -
She laughs and brings tea to her lips. None of that matters now because what she'd said in Neverland still holds true today: she would do everything she'd done again for the simple reason that it had brought her to Henry. Okay, so perhaps not everything. Some days it's hard to look at herself in the mirror and see the person that she imagines that Marian sees every single time they see each other (it hasn't been frequent thankfully, but there have been half a dozen awkward run-ins over the last several weeks and it's just not getting easier now that Marian seems to understand that Robin's love for the Evil Queen isn't going to just conveniently go away). She can well guess that when Marian sees her, she still sees the monster that Regina had been.
Sometimes Regina still sees her, too.
She doesn't believe that there will ever be a time when she doesn't.
Still, it's hard to focus on that when there are other things to focus on such as the changing of her body. And the question that will be answered today.
Is Henry right? Will it be a little girl?
She's excited and she's terrified.
She chooses not to think about the terrified part, refuses to allow herself to.
Because if she does, then she'll think about Mother.
And she's tried so very hard not to think about Mother.
Especially now, knowing as she does how displeased Mother would be.
How terribly pathetically weak and pitiful Mother would see her as having become. To be willingly accepting her lover not being in her life, to even be keeping him at arms' distance. Mother had never believed in love, spited it as often as she possibly could, but she would have found it unfathomable to allow another to take from her what she believed to be hers.
But Regina refuses to be Cora Mills.
And she won't force Robin or anyone to stay with her if they don't want to.
It's harder, though, because she believes that he does want to be with her.
She opens the top drawer of her dresser and extracts the note that he'd left with the flower several weeks ago; aside from a few brief messages relayed through Emma, she hasn't had any contact with him since that night at the hospital. Which is probably for the best because this is all confusing and complicated enough. She knows that he very much wants to see her, and knows that he wants to be part of this, but he is trying to respect the fact that his choice to stay with his previously thought dead wife comes with some consequences and one of those is that Regina gets to call the shots here.
She's not ready to open the door back to him, doesn't think she can handle him being so close and so involved and so much a part of them without their actually being a them. So she's declined every offer of assistance.
But this note remains.
WHATEVER ELSE THERE WILL OR WON'T BE BETWEEN US, I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE FOR YOU IF YOU WANT ME TO BE.
That's not quite the truth technically (he's not here now and that hurts) but she understands the intent of his message, the clear statement that if she asks for Robin to assist her in any way, if she wants him to be involved, then he will be.
He wants to be here, has made that much clear. Part of her wishes that he'd fight a little harder, insist a little more vehemently, but the other part that recognizes the absolute mess that this is knows that such a thing would only lead to more stress and heartache that she can ill-afford right now. No, it's best that he concentrate on being a good father and a good husband.
Everything else will figure its way out as it should.
Regina laughs to herself (loudly and lightly, she realizes) and wonders if this baby shifting around inside of her is acting like some kind of internal prozac because she's never been one to be so calm and centered about things - especially the ones that should be having her on-edge. This whole situation is the kind of thing that should be making her have fits of anxiety but it's not.
And even she knows that that makes no sense.
But for all that's lost and all that her heart still hurts, she feels…okay.
"Mom?" she hears as Henry enters the kitchen. "You ready to go."
"I am," she answers and then loops her arm around her son's shoulders, earning her a lifted eyebrow. "Have I told you how much I love you?"
"Are you okay?" he asks.
"I can't just tell my son how much he means to me?" she asks.
"Of course you can and….and I love you, too, Mom, but are you okay?"
"I feel great," she says with a broad smile.
"Cool. Then, I hope you don't mind but I asked Emma to join us."
Her brows knit together and she has a flash of irritation, but then it's sliding away from her and she shrugs. "It's unnecessary, but no, I don't mind."
He gives her another strange look and then reaches for her coat and wraps it around her growing frame; it's at this moment when she realizes that he's not even leaning up to do it and just a little bit of the easy joy slips away.
Because her little boy is growing up and there are moments that she can't ever have back again and how many of those did she screw up by -
A knocking on the door yanks her out of her thoughts.
Which is a good thing because she can feel the anxiety of the child in the way that she's moving and it's clear thT she doesn't like her mothers's darker thoughts one bit. She lightly pats her belly and pulls her dark coat closed.
"Let's go," Regina says with a smile, a wave of calm slipping over her even as her mind continues to work. She focuses on the calm, lets it take her.
If Henry notices her struggle, he doesn't mention it.
Her mood darkens considerably as Emma drives them towards Bangor and she's not really sure why exactly that is; yes, she'd been thinking about her failures with Henry and that's not ever going to be any easy subject but she's thought of them before without them making her feel this upset.
Rapid hormonal mood swings, she tells herself.
She's done all the reading. Looked at everything that could possibly explain the things that she's going through and the whys of them. She's even read that "What To Expect When You're Expecting" book. And she's been forced to listened to Snow tell her about some very uncomfortable things that she really doesn't think that they're close enough to be sharing with each other.
Still, these swings feel more dramatic. From incredibly light and easy going to wanting to pour herself a glass of whiskey and drink until she can't.
Not that she would right now, but it's what she would do if not for the baby.
"Not feeling well?" Emma asks, her head turned slightly.
"Just thoughtful," Regina admits. She's glad that their relationship has improved - Emma had certainly gone to great lengths to try to make things up to her and more importantly, the Sheriff has managed to be a friend to both she and Robin without compromising either friendship and though it still hurts - this whole situation still hurts - she's thankful that Robin has someone to speak to about all of this who won't judge him for his choices.
She's still trying not to do that.
"Is that a good thing?" Emma jokes.
"I - unlike you Miss Swan - am capable of having complex thoughts." It's a mildly returned retort and it just makes Emma chuckle in bemusement.
"Yes, true, but I - unlike you, Your Majesty - am capable of having thoughts that don't involve massive world ending curses and fire-breathing dragons."
"Maleficent being a dragon was hardly my fault."
"Her being trapped as one was," Henry notes from the backseat of the Bug where he's playing on his iPad. He grins at the scowl Regina throws at him.
"Well, yes," she sighs.
"So," Emma prompts after a moment."You have two sets of ears here."
"And one set probably shouldn't be privy to such things," Regina reminds her as her eyes seek out the passing scenery of the Maine highway.
"Big boy now," Henry reminds her, putting down his iPad. "So talk."
"I'm fine."
She sees Emma smirk at that.
"Really."
"Do you miss your magic?" Henry asks.
Her mouth opens and then closes. And then she sighs because what's the right answer here? She'd almost lost Henry over her use of magic and only recently has he come to a place of accepting within her, but will he think less of her if she admits that yes, she does miss the feel of it within her?
It'd taken her a very long time after the curse had been cast for her to get to a place of acceptance with the loss of magic (the artifacts that she'd had and slowly used had been like a slow methadone drip, slowly weaning her off until she'd reluctantly accepted the loss of it) but this is even harder.
And it shouldn't be because her magic had been endangering her child.
"Yes," she finally answers, sighing at the uncomfortable honesty of it.
"It's okay," he tells her. "And you can have it back after she's born."
"Assuming that your grandfather didn't trick me," she drawls and then immediately flinches because her son really shouldn't be dragged into the middle of her on-going war with Rumplestiltskin. "But for once, I think he's on the level. He wants something from me and he usually keeps his deals."
"So what else?" Emma asks.
"Who said there is anything else?"
"We're on our way to find out the gender of your baby and I'm not the one who should be here with you right now," Emma notes. "Robin should."
"Perhaps so, but -"
"He made his choice. You say that a lot."
"You do," Henry observes.
"Because I'm trying to respect his decision to stay with his family," Regina reminds them quietly as she shifts around anxiously in her seat. She can feel the baby moving around in her, but it seems like that curious influence that the child had been having - that simple calming effect that had been there - is long gone now. Not that it was ever real most likely. All just her imagination.
"Isn't the Runt his family, too?" Henry asks, his brows knitting together.
"It's not that easy," Regina sighs. "It's...complicated. And messy."
"She's right, Kid," Emma says and then she's parking the car and Regina has never been so glad for such a simple act because she just can't have this kind of conversation with her son. She can't let him ever know about the dark and despairing moments where she'd thought about twenty different ways to make Marian disappear without a trace. And he can't know about how angry she gets at herself when she realizes just how much she still misses Robin.
Things have been better as of late; the baby has given her some focus.
But she's had dreams.
He doesn't need to know about those, either.
"You guys got this?" Emma asks.
"You're not coming with us to find out?" Henry queries.
"I will if you want me to, but I thought you two might like this to be just your thing," Emma replies and then looks at Regina. "Tell me what you want?"
"Chocolate croissants. And puff pastries. With strawberries."
Emma chuckles. "I'll see what I can find." She waves at the two of them and then with a laugh and her hands in her pockets, walks down the street.
"I hope you don't mind," Regina says to Henry once Emma's gone.
"Team Mills," he says. And then like the gentleman he's becoming, he offers her his arm. But because he's still a kid, he's grinning at her. So wide.
So easy.
She laughs, slips her arm into his and head inside the doctor's office to find out whether her precious baby boy is having a little brother or a little sister.
The feeling of being back in balance reasserts itself the moment Emma's Bug slides over the town line and they're back in Storybrooke. It's sudden and a bit like someone has just injected her with something. It's enough to make her frown just a bit because something strange is definitely going on here.
Henry had been right; she's having a little girl.
Which makes the terror that she'd been feeling earlier so much more.
Raising Henry had never reminded her of her relationship with her mother - at least not until he'd begun pushing her away and she'd started pulling back - but having a little girl reminds her of so many moments that she's tried so hard to never think of again and they make her wonder if she can do this.
Of course she can, she tells herself.
Boy or girl, it doesn't matter.
Right now, that's not near as important as figuring out why exactly this little girl inside of her seems to have the ability to calm her down.
Is it possible that even if she herself doesn't have magic at the moment that her daughter does? And if so, does that make everything even scarier?
She thinks it does, but then the baby is kicking and she gets the message loud and clear and it is very simply, "Relax, Mom; everything is okay."
She wishes that she believed that.
They get to the house and Henry races inside ahead of them, leaving his two mothers alone just in case they need to talk about things he knows that they won't say in front of him. The women chuckle; they know their son.
A moment passes and then another and finally, "You're thinking again."
"I am," Regina admits. "About my mother."
"Ah?"
Emma shrugs. "I'm not surprised; she did a number on you."
Regina smiles tightly at that.
"But for what it's worth, you're not her and never will be. She was…you love Henry. Actually love him. And you already love the little girl inside of you."
"I do," Regina admits. Then, taking a breath. "Will you show Robin?"
"The ultrasound?"
"Yes. He's never actually seen one before and he might…enjoy it."
"So you're going to let him be involved?"
Regina frowns in response, realizing that she's not quite that resolved.
"Right. I think maybe you should be the one to show him that."
Regina starts to protest and then stops. "I suppose I have to deal with this eventually, don't I? I have to make a decision one way or another."
"In or out," Emma agrees. "But maybe it's time you two actually talk."
"It won't change anything," Regina replies, rubbing her belly once again.
"It might not change that, but knowing whether or not you're going to be raising this kid with my family -" she laughs and then says, "Oh come on, you knew my mother was going to force her way in. She's been babbling non-stop about how my baby brother and your kiddo can play together."
Regina groans at that. "I'm happy that we're no longer at war, right?"
Emma shrugs but she's still grinning.
"Right. So it's with your family or -"
"With my family and with Robin. Talk to him. Decide. Move forward. One way or another. This kind of uncertainty isn't good for anyone. Trust me."
"Sounds so easy."
"You're going to wish you could drink after the conversation is over."
Regina chuckles, low and deep. Then after a moment and with a tired sounding sigh, "Fine, ask him to meet me at the pond tomorrow at noon."
She tries to pretend that she doesn't feel the mini-hop in her belly at that.
"Will do," Emma says. She turns back towards her car.
"Emma. Thank you," Regina says softly.
"For?"
"For actually being one of the rare people in my life who actually meant it when they said that they wanted to be my friend. I…thank you."
Emma nods, smiles and then slides into the Bug, the engine still running.
She's gone a few moments later and the street is quiet and there are stars showing up high in the sky, pinpricks of light against a rapidly darkening background. She thinks about how so many things have changed and how she knows how this family around her - how she has her son protecting her now. And then she thinks about the note from Robin and the declaration that he'd made within it - the promise that he would always be there for her.
She wonders why she struggles so hard to believe that it's the truth.
Hours or research about the strange magical effects of her unborn child fold into the midnight hours of the night (and the baby is clearly not at all pleased about her being up late because she keeps rushing her mom to the bathroom in some perverse form of bladder related revenge) and before she knows it, she's sound asleep on her desk, her face against a massive tome.
She dreams.
She sees her mother lifting a six year old little girl up in the air, angrily berating the frightened child for grass stains on her pretty dress. She hears her mother's voice drop as she says, "I do this because I love you, dear."
She sees herself standing on a lush green hill with Daniel, kissing him and being held by him. And then she's stepping away from him and the innocent girl there is becoming a woman who wears thick caked on make-up and who has such dark hatred in her eyes and then suddenly Daniel's turning to dust.
She sees herself as the full-on Evil Queen walking past a line of terrified peasants and then she sees Marian and they're face to face and the Queen is laughing gleefully as she speaks about having Marian's head on a pike.
She sees massacred villagers and broken bodies and so much blood.
And then she sees Robin standing amongst the bodies, in the middle of everyone. Looking around, taking in the carnage. His eyes fall across his face and he's shaking his head like he just can't understand any of this.
But it's when he looks over at Cora, her hand still lifted and little Regina still high up in the air, pleading and apologizing even as she soils herself (which only infuriates Mother more) that Robin seems to grow truly horrified.
He says, "I thought I knew who you were, but I didn't. I…had no idea . I thought I could handle this, but…I want no part of you. Of any part of you."
And then he's turning around and walking away from her.
She reaches out for him but even in her nightmare, won't yell out for him.
Won't beg for him to forgive her, to come back for her.
Won't break. Not even here.
But she feels his rejection deep in her wounded somehow still resilient heart.
Even as she knows that it was only a matter of time before this happened.
Even as she accepts that this was the only way it could go.
Because truly, villains - especially such evil ones like her - don't ever get happy endings. Not because of a book but because they don't deserve them.
She feels the pain - though she knows not where it's from - before she returns to the waking world and then her eyes open and she's crying.
And this time, not even the magic mojo of her baby girl can make it better.
TBC...
