Chapter 10
The night crept in, bathing her suddenly vacant bedroom in darkness and stifling quiet. She curled in tighter to Emma's lightly perfumed pillow, her body twisting to take in the entire length of cotton-covered goose down. Regina tried to ignore how desperate she felt.
Only a few days had passed, but already the loneliness and darkness were starting to encroach, stripping away whatever goodness the blonde had left in her wake. It hurt. With every shaking breath, her heart grew more ragged with wanting. She had never coped well with wanting.
Her eyes closed tighter, painfully blocking out the claustrophobic night, replacing it with spots of pressured light. She lay like that for hours, forcing away the memories with pain. Forcing away what was left of Emma.
Regina greeted the dawn as it crested over gray-topped houses of Storybrooke. Exhaustion pulled at her, tugging her unpleasantly back towards bed, to Emma's still lingering smell. The Mayor knew the faint traces of scent wouldn't last for much longer, neither would her sanity it seemed.
Seventeen Years Later…
Gold's expression was flat, devoid of its usual pleasure when bargaining. This particular trade had struck him as slightly differently, almost manic in its requirements. Regina had been incredibly specific, precise, dictating the place and time that the Dark One was to procure her new pet.
And that she was unable to leave Storybrooke to fetch the newborn baby, regardless of the many laws of this land. That little wrinkle, the pawnshop owner would need to sort for himself. Regina, for some strange reason, had been most adamant on that particular point.
She was ridding him of the chase. And he so loved the chase in all his dealings, the simple poetry that fulfilling the wishes of others could bring. The taste of their sorrow when they found that instead of wishes granted, they found a unique form of betrayal. Sorrow of his making.
He tried not to focus too much on how much this entire exchange was irking him, clawing unpleasantly under his skin. Regina was not her usual, hasty self in this particular dealing. She had taken her time with this contract, planned every part of this dance with precision.
It galled him.
Sliding the parchment over the glossy coated counter, Gold waited for her to sign. The Mayor's signature was a flourish of heavy letters. The pen cut deep, scraping away the paper's pulp in strips. She flicked the contract back to him, eyes boring into his as they nodded their exchange.
"I want him tomorrow, Gold. Not a moment later."
She breezed out of the pawnshop as Rumple stared hard after her. His monster was changing, somehow becoming more human. It had taken almost twenty years since being stranded into this hellhole of a world, but the Evil Queen was shedding her armor.
Somehow though, he suspected that didn't necessarily make her easier prey.
10-10-10
The bundle of squirming child was surprisingly heavy and warm. Regina sat down slowly, staring at Henry in astonishment.
Tiny fists struggled against his blanket, making weak grabs at her necklace. She made a mental note to stop wearing dangling bits of jewelry as he tried to bring the pearls closer to his gaping mouth. They slipped easily from his weak, miniature grasp. Regina was fascinated by how small his fingers were. How delicate.
Seemingly content to occupy himself, the Mayor simply watched him. Her only interaction had been with older, usually frightened, children. Dealing with a baby was well outside her comfort zone. But the Queen was nothing if not a practical woman. She had researched caring for the boy extensively. Every inch of her home was baby-proofed while her Mercedes was already car seat laden.
But nothing had prepared her for the chubby, squealing warmth in her lap. And Emma had been adamant; Regina had a maternal instinct a mile wide. The brunette wasn't nearly as confident as the Sheriff had been. As her and Leopold's marriage had progressed, the Queen had been grateful that they had been bereft of children. Theirs was a relationship that should never have been shared.
She carried him upstairs, each step slow and infinitely careful. Regina paused outside his newly painted bedroom, debating, knowing that she couldn't part with him on his first night. Instead, she continued on into her own room, utterly unwilling to abandon the boy.
He spent the night in the detachable part of his pram, the hard plastic surrounded by pillows as Regina fretted next to him all night. He slept warmly, his body curled tightly inside of his fleece pajamas. And somehow, in the very early morning, she fell asleep beside him.
10-10-10
Their second evening was slightly better, and found her positioning what was once an unused rocking chair beside Henry's tall crib.
Inching back into the antique wood, she watched him sleep. Every sigh, every flinch in the night had her out of her seat and hovering above him. After several hours, she took away the dangling mobile, the hard bits of plastic getting caught in her hair every time she leant over her slumbering son. Regina would brush her hands over him soothingly, reassuring them both as he dozed.
The first few months of his life with her were spent in this way. Her careful and full of apprehension, him bringing back joy over the smallest things. Even when she had finally moved back into her own bedroom, she would lay awake at night and listen to his soft breathing as it filled the quiet upper floor.
Her dreams were filled with Henry's faint sounds.
10-10-10
His tiny hands wrapped possessively around her index finger. Face flushed, eyes once more swelling with tears, he pulled her hand closer to chomp down on the ice-cold teething ring. Henry's face relaxed in an instant, finally allowing Regina to brush a cool washcloth over his angry red face. She nuzzled his head gently, brushing the hair from his forehead with the tip of her nose.
He smelled like Emma. She smiled into his dark blond hair and cuddled him closer. She knew she had years left to wait for the Savior, but at least now her life wasn't quite so lonely. Henry had brought hope, and strangely, love. Regina had been unsure that the blonde's prophecy would turn out to be true, that she could love a child that was not hers so completely.
She crawled into bed, tucking his feverish frame in against her side. He cuddled in, his tiny toes curling into the bottom of her shirt. Something warm and wonderful settled into her chest, in the empty place that Emma had carved out when she had left. The brunette propped herself up on one arm, her cool fingers soothing his hair and brow as the toddler slipped into a fretful sleep.
Regina loved him, and it scared her. Love had never brought peace, only a lonely sense of anger that settled painfully around her heart. Every morning though, as her little boy opened his eyes, he smiled at her. His face open and adoring, he clung to her in a way she had never known. He loved her in every sense of the word, his entire world hinging around her every whisper and touch.
And it filled her with hope.
Placing a light kiss on his forehead, she wrapped around him delicately.
10-10-10
The book stood open on his lap as they flipped through it together. She had acquired it far earlier than Emma's timeline had plotted, and it had turned out to be a very wise decision. Their bedtime stories had consisted of each and every story, of how the Evil Queen had cursed and harmed each of them, and how she had slowly started to unwind that evil.
At around the age of four, when preschool had started to teach him the intricacies of letters, they made lists together. Every cruelty was dutifully recorded, as was her attempts at righting each wrong. With every addition to their tally of good deeds, Henry would beam at her proudly. It amazed her how much this both tickled her, and made her feel awash in gratitude.
Around his fifth birthday, shortly after she had started jumpstarting his reading with comic books, they had labeled the entire endeavor as Operation Archangel. Regina wasn't quite sure if he was referring to this world's Christian bible, or if some random comic book character had served as inspiration. She had decided to leave the question unasked.
She never dodged her son's questions, but in some instances, promised to tell him more as he got older. Some snippets of her history were best left to more adult ears. And Regina told him of his birth mother, of the woman that was meant to be their savior. His eyes would always sparkle at the mention of her name, his impatience for his other mother growing as he got older. Her impatience grew with his.
Tonight was no different. They lay snuggled up in his tiny bed, burrowed under his flannel Superman sheets. The book lay open, her snarling face glaring back at them. Henry somehow sensed that tonight's story was important. Maybe even the most important. He lay curled in against her side, tucking himself away against her ribs securely. Deep brown eyes peeked up at her from her shoulder.
She smiled faintly at him, butterflies swirling unhappily.
Tomorrow was his sixth birthday and he had asked to take riding lessons, insisting that it was a skill needed by any true knight. She had tried to insist that he was too young, although already a year older than her when she had first started, and as a Prince, he would have knights to fight for him. Still, he had been insistent, and Regina could deny him nothing.
So, tomorrow would be the day that she entered Storybrooke's stables for the first time. To make her young son understand her hesitancy, to explain away the sadness and hurt that ghosted her features every time they discussed it…she would tell Henry how she lost her first love. She debated whether or not to conceal the part Snow had to play in the tale, but realized that by doing so, she was would be deceiving the boy.
The story itself was short in the telling, which surprised her. Regina's voice was dull as she recounted the short, passionate romance between her and the young stable hand. How she had saved Snow and the princess' father had come calling. Regina blinked back tears as she told her beautiful son about Cora's need for power.
How that need had robbed her of Daniel.
The story finally drained from her as the brunette's words trailed away. They sat in silence for several long minutes, Regina brushing at Henry's hair gently. She bent to kiss the top of his head, breathing in his earthy, calming scent. Resting her cheek against his hair, she reached into the pocket of her robe. Since Emma, she no longer carried it with her, but Regina's fingers tingled pleasantly as they made contact with Daniel's ring.
It was dull after so many years, its bronzed surface scratched and scuffed. Holding the thick, braided ring to the light, she turned it slowly. Daniel's face smiled back at them gently and the brunette felt her heart flutter happily. As much as she loved Emma, and the thought of being with her once more, Daniel would always be her first in so many important ways.
"Is it magic?"
"Yes, but love is its own form of magic." She held the ring out to him, his small hands taking the metal gently.
He cradled it close to chest as he peered at it curiously. Dark brows furrowed in thought, he finally looked back up with her with a look of utter sadness.
"Does this mean you don't love Emma as much?"
She blinked rapidly at him, her mouth dropping open as his face crumpled.
"Oh Henry, of course not! Daniel was the first person I ever loved, but not the last." She brushed aside his dangling bangs. He hated the barber, as almost every child does. Regina bowed her head to catch his sad, tearing eyes. "I will always love Daniel. And I will always love Emma." She pulled his small frame close, arms wrapping around him tightly. "And I will always, always love you."
10-10-10
They both fidgeted uncomfortably, fear and excitement playing between them. Once again folding his collar, adjusting the buttons that peeked over his school sweater, Regina tried to keep her hands occupied and steady. Otherwise, they would both notice the uncontrollable shaking, the fingertips seizing with fear.
She had spent days agonizing. Emma had been clear on the date and time, on how their son had come to find her. But this was different. Regina had never lied to the young boy, had never hidden what she had once been, or her desire to help the blonde save them. To push her son out into the world, a world she couldn't protect him from, in order to bring Emma back, seemed foolish.
Regina could be sacrificing her son for the off chance that she could have Emma as well.
"But you can't leave."
"I know that Henry, but you can. You've done it once before, you'll do it again."
His beautiful brown eyes, so like hers in so many ways, were confused. She cupped his chin, one of the many features that were starting to grow into hints of Emma, of Snow. His facial expressions though, they were hers alone.
"You are your mother's son." She tried not to dwell on that fact too much as she continued. "The prophecy claims that she will save us, but its wrong. Its you who will do the saving."
His small chest swelled with importance, puffing up proudly beneath the dark wool. She settled the small backpack on his narrow shoulders, trying to keep her breathing calm.
"Now, be safe."
Henry turned from her; sprinting down their driveway with a burst of energy only a child could muster. She trailed after him, unable to take her eyes off him. It took him almost fifteen minutes to disappear from view, and as he did, Regina's heart sank fearfully.
She whispered into the wind, her heart quietly breaking. "Come back to me, please." Regina wasn't sure if she was speaking to Henry, or Emma, but found it didn't really matter.
10-10-10
Blinking up at the massive, whitewashed house, she felt herself shrink away from the front door. She was suddenly filled with dread. What if this woman, who was obviously minted, thought she had tried to kidnap Henry? Emma had run into this exact circumstance routinely as she chased down convicts skipping bail. Birth mothers, once they were clean or back on their feet, would come looking for their kids, completely disregarding their child's adopted parents and lives.
And no matter the circumstance, it had always proven disastrous for the child.
Henry surged forward, his gangly, boyish limbs galloping towards his statuesque home. Before he reached the shining, whitewashed door, it sprung open. A darkly beautiful woman stepped clear of the light-dampened hallway, her heels clicking lightly against the brick-laden front steps. Without a word or a movement of encouragement, the small boy threw himself forward into her outstretched arms.
The blonde bounty hunter reached them with hesitant, shuffling steps.
Dark eyes lifted from her son's face to catch the blonde's curious look. Regina's welcoming smile was gorgeous and it made Emma's toes curl. The taller woman leaned forward, her left hand rising hesitantly to smooth down Henry's vaguely rumpled shirt.
"I think I may have found something of yours."
Regina's expression turned small, hesitant, hiding away her yearning. She looked down at her son who subtly gave her a thumbs up. Laughter filled her eyes, but she kept her face serious and concerned.
"Henry, you had me worried."
She knelt before him, balanced somehow on impossibly high stilettos. He gravitated towards her unconsciously, his small frame drifting forward again to wrap around her shoulders. Glancing away uncomfortably, Emma tried not to notice how the brunette nuzzled into his dark brown hair, her lips grazing the crown of his head. How he mumbled softly to her as his eyes slid closed in suddenly exhausted happiness.
Their intimacy was easy and sincere, and it broke her heart to see it.
Standing after several long minutes, her hand rubbing soothing circles against her son's travel worn sweater, Regina ushered him inside. They took several seconds before the brunette seemed to remember the younger woman was still standing there, loitering and uncomfortable. She glanced over her shoulder, her glance lingering for longer than was polite.
"How about the best glass of apple cider you've ever tasted?"
The blonde nodded uneasily. She still wasn't sure what this woman, this politician, would make of her. Regina's slim body bowed away, leaving the front door gaping. Emma slid past her with nervous, bumbling steps. The brunette smiled at her reassuringly, eyes twinkling gently. The kindness was starting to make Emma a little paranoid.
Kindness was usually followed by cruelty.
Vibrant colors greeted her as she entered the Mayor's massive entryway. For some reason the blonde had expected stark colors, light and dark playing against each other in eternal battle. Bleakness punctuated by smudges of white. The mental image tugged at her like some long forgotten childhood memory.
Instead, warmth dominated the hall, filling the spaces around her with the feeling of family. Photos of the town, of random people she had never laid eyes on, littered the walls. But Henry dominated in all of them. His smile was infectious and free, filled with a love Emma had never known.
A strange sense of satisfaction bathed her heart. She had done right by him, had given him a world of warmth that she had never been blessed enough to experience. Satisfaction was chased away by a fleeting form of jealously and sadness. Self-pity wasn't something she generally allowed herself.
Tearing her eyes away from the picturesque childhood she had always craved, she trailed after Regina's silent form. Above them, she could hear Henry's loud footfalls. The brunette glided to a halt in front of a small alcove littered with expensive looking crystal filled with sweetly toned amber. Dark eyes lifted to catch the blonde staring. The smaller woman offered up another easy smile, making Emma's breath quicken.
She swallowed hard against the sudden, sharply sweet pang of want. The brunette was beautiful, every gesture elegant and simple. The blonde couldn't help but follow the lines of the Mayor with her eyes, wanting to do more than watch. Such an instant sense of desire was unnerving, and alien. She cleared her throat awkwardly.
"So Henry tells me this town is filled with a bunch of fairytale characters?"
Regina paused in her pouring, turning to give the blonde a suddenly guarded look. She and Henry hadn't spoken on how much to tell his birth mother, deciding that fate would have a hand. Regina now regretted that particular bit of poor planning.
"Of course it is. Didn't he tell you?" She handed the blonde a glass, fingers lingering as rich brown eyes took on a suddenly predatory look. "I'm the Evil Queen."
"Former Evil Queen according to him."
Regina blinked rapidly as if coming back to herself. She took a long pull from her own drink before continuing.
"I wasn't a very good person for a large part of my adult life." Regina offered up a simple, helpless shrug. "I won't go into why, it no longer matters."
"And Henry changed all that." The blonde had heard this story many times before. Mean spirited people professing to try and change when children, or Jesus, entered the picture. They rarely kept to their newfound habits of goodness.
"No. I changed before him. He just keeps me on the straight and narrow."
Emma set her glass down with a half-heartedly apologetic smile.
"How nice." She fidgeted, trying to shrug away her sense of social politeness. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to Boston. I just wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings."
Something like panic flashed before Regina's features stilled completely.
"Misunderstandings?" Long, leans legs crossed, her pencil skirt riding ever so slightly to reveal curved, muscled thighs. "I assure you Miss Swan, we have no misunderstanding. However…" She took a long drag from her tumbler. "I'm sure you're curious about your son."
Emma's head tilted. The Mayor stifled a fond smirk.
"One way or another, the thought of Henry will pull at you. I can either allow you access to him now, with my knowledge and supervision, or knowing him, you'll sneak around behind my back."
Emma swallowed, unable to deny her curiosity and almost overwhelming desire to check in on Henry, to make doubly sure that all was what it seemed.
"Its settled then." The Mayor's smile was sincere, if strangely sad.