The next day came with both women still in bed, sleeping, Emma on her belly, having pushed her pillow out of the way, her hand resting in the middle of the queen sized mattress, while Regina was on her side, turned toward the Savior, her hands under the pillow. Henry walked in quietly, smirking at Emma's outreach, having known for a while that she had felt something toward his other mom, his precociousness giving him much insight in the behavior of people around him. He walked slowly to bed, to the brunette's side and gently climbed over her, not at all surprised at the arms pulling him close and lips kissing his forehead. He could never sneak up on the woman, even though she would sometimes pretend not to notice him, for the sake of his playfulness.
"Morning," Regina murmured softly, holding her son closely, as she kept her eyes closed. He took her hand and intertwined their fingers while he looked at Emma, noticing the deep colored bruises on her arm and shoulder, and blood mated hair at the back of her head. The night before he hadn't seen any wounds, as they had been covered by Regina's ruined blazer, and he had been too distracted to pay close attention to her hair.
"Is she going to be all right?" he asked softly.
"Emma will recover fully, Henry. With luck there might not be even any scars left." Regina replied, completely awake, even though she still kept her eyes closed. "She is going to be in some pain the next few days, but when we get back to Storybrooke, Whale will get the sutures out and she'll be as good as new." Well, she knew it was a slightly more complicated than that, but she downplayed it for her son, thinking Emma would've done the same. In fact, Emma would not be able to drive for a while, or to sit back properly needing to let the cut heal without pressure on it. The bruises were painful, she knew from experience, and even though Emma pretended otherwise, Regina had seen her wince and stifle a groan with every step she had made on their way home.
"What do you thing we should do today?" he asked glancing back, as he thought that their deal of going to AMNH was off because of Emma's injuries.
"For starters, get some more sleep," the blonde groused, using her discarded pillow to hit her son on the belly, making him yelp in surprise. "You know, kid, I was kind of hoping to sleep in this morning," Emma added as she looked at him with still hazy green eyes and winked at him, before burrowing herself into the sheets murmuring sleepily all the while. Henry chuckled at his grumbling mother and just lied back, enjoying the quiet time in her bed, his head on Regina's pillow, beside hers.
Later they went on a whole day adventure, as Emma refused to be stuck in the apartment, regardless of her injuries. Apart from several awkward moments early in the day, like the one when Emma needed Regina to put the protecting covering over her wound for the shower, or the ointments and fresh bandage afterwards, they got ready and left their place. On their way down they decided that they would go to the museum first and then go where their fancy struck them. Having hailed a cab, Regina ushered the blonde in the back beside Henry, her warning look stopping any comments.
Once they were in the glorious and huge building of AMNH, passing right underneath the monstrous skeleton of T-Rex, the women followed the excited boy who talked a mile an hour, pulling Regina toward his favorite exhibitions, while Emma would stand a little back, letting the brunette have these moments with Henry, looking at them with gentle but somewhat strained smile. Although she had been given the pain medication, she hadn't taken it that morning for they made her feel all wonky, and she wanted to be fully present for their excursion. The downside of it was that her body hurt, especially the bruises on her thighs, even more when she was walking, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through keeping quiet, not wanting to douse Henry's, and Regina's, excitement and joy of this day.
However, Regina made sure to make frequent breaks, inconspicuously watching Emma's body language. During their late lunch in a deli, she offered Emma some aspirin along with her soda, the sharp look in her eyes telling her not to argue and not to even dare to deny that she was in pain. They ate sandwiches, before they went to a game store, Henry picking up his new favorites to bring to Storybrooke. The evening they spent in shopping, as both Henry and Regina wanted some new things, with Emma rolling her eyes at them, but patiently waiting as they picked their combinations, grateful that she had a place to sit. In those moments, the boy was Regina's son through and through, his criticizing look and sense of style matching hers.
Later in the evening, they brought home Chinese food and their new things, taking their dinner to eat out on the roof, enjoying the night and planning the next day down to the minute, as they were somewhat tight with time. As the other kids were coming around midday, right after lunch, Henry needed to pack his things in the morning, while Emma and Regina placed out the decorations and other requirements for the party. Then they just talked about Storybrooke, guessing what others were doing at this time of day, laughing at the images they conjured, until Regina shooed Henry to bed, telling him that he had a full schedule the next day.
Later that night, Emma woke from her sleep in the middle of the night, but this time she could not remember what had happened in her dream, as it wasn't what woke her in the first place. Her wound on her back was itching, the regenerating skin working its way to cover the cut. Reluctant to move, as she had learned that the woman beside her was a light sleeper, Emma lied on her front, her head turned toward the brunette, watching her sleep, keeping her breaths measured, despite her desire to reach behind and tear off the annoying piece of bandage of her back. Instead, she focused on the woman beside her, on the relaxed features of the brunette that often haunted her dreams one way or the other.
Even though that the former Queen had eased the cold shoulder toward the blonde, actually allowing some warmth to enter their conversations and connection, there was still an underlying feeling of mistrust and reluctance, and anger beneath their communication making it somewhat stilted and unnatural. And, to Emma, it made perfect sense that Regina would not let the Savior get away with what she had done that easily, regardless of her actions afterwards. Though, it was surreal for the Savior to be in the same bed with the woman who had tried to kill her several times before, with the woman she had saved several times before, and the woman she had hurt immensely several times before. Even so, her heart was screaming at her that it felt right, perfect, spending the nights beside her former enemy, where she was witness to a much softer side to the woman. It told her that there was something there between them, a spark they couldn't keep denying, regardless of their willingness to ignore it.
However, forced stillness never ended well for the blonde, and she needed to get out of the bed, of the room, of the apartment, away from her barely suppressed feelings, away from further complication in her life, away from pain that inevitably awaited her down that path. Slowly she managed move of the bed without moving it much, slipping out of the room stealthily, using all of her skills to slip out. Not caring that she was only in her off white beater and shorts, she walked out onto the roof, enjoying the cold air on her skin, the suddenness of it stopping her rampaging thoughts. After spending some time on the roof to calm down, Emma went back inside and prepared for a light jog, hoping it would help her ease her stiffened muscles and clear her head further, completely ignoring the wound on her back and her head.
But before she could even leave the apartment a hand grabbed her around her forearm, the grip firm but surprisingly gentle. "Where do you think you are going?" Regina asked her sharply, dressed only in her pajamas, forgoing the robe. When Emma only rolled her eyes at her and pulled her arm out of the hold, the brunette pressed the door close, not letting the Savior leave the place. "You'll rip out your sutures." She knew that the blonde had felt a great deal of frustration with her limitation but running was not the solution, especially not with the head wound.
Regina saw a flash of defiance in Emma's eyes but then something strange happened. Instead of expected reaction, the outburst of indignation or insubordination, the blonde turned away and sighed, walking back to the living room, before she dropped herself onto the couch, rather inelegantly in Regina's opinion. The brunette grimaced at the squeak the poor piece of furniture let out and waited for the inevitable wince or a hiss of pain, as Emma had leaned back, completely forgetting about her cut. And, it came in a shape of a quietly muttered curse as the blonde leaned onto her knees. As she was not in the mood to talk, and apparently neither was Emma, Regina offered the blonde to start packing, while she would get on breakfast and coffee.
Soon, Henry joined them, too excited to sleep in, as it was the day of his party and his last full day in the apartment. After a quick pancake breakfast, he pulled out the suitcases and placing them on his bed, he started putting things into them, making sure to pack all the things he had bought with Regina, throwing in his things from his closets, including his favorite pajamas and t-shirts.
It didn't take long for Emma to pack up, as she did not have many things, her habit of keeping her baggage as light as possible still intact, regardless of Regina's memory interference. And what was left in her closet after her trip to Storybrooke were some of her dresses and classier clothes that Emma had deemed highly impractical in the small town, but she had decided to bring them with her, hoping that she would have an occasion to wear them for. Finishing up, she joined Regina in the living room, taking over the placement of the streamers and other party paraphernalia while the brunette went to prepare snack plates and light lunch they would eat before the guests came.
It was barely noon when Henry announced that he was finished with his chores, his stuff piled up by the door of his room, ready for Emma to bring it down the next day. Joining his mothers in the kitchen, he ate, praising their decorative skills, despite Regina's frequent warnings not to talk with his mouth full. Not long after, the first guests started arriving, the cheery greetings instantly filling the place. Trendy music could be heard, just enough to give a proper tinge to the atmosphere but not to bother the chatty teenagers and their parents. Just three other parents showed up, in desire to help Emma with the party, knowing that she was a single mom. Avery's mother, Samantha, was somewhat friendly with the blonde as their sons had formed a fast friendship a year before, often having sleepovers and school projects.
"So," the redhead came to Emma as the party started winding down, carrying a glass of wine in her hand, lightly pushing the woman beside with her shoulder, "you and Regina, hmm?" Samantha took a sip of her wine smirking at Emma's sudden spit take of soda. "How long have you been together? And, by the way, what happened to that carpenter guy?"
"We're not together," Emma screeched quickly and quietly, mindful of the minors passing around them, glaring at the redhead. But, before she could clarify that she meant that Regina and she weren't together, the other mother continued.
"I should hope not, that goddess of a woman should be enough," Samantha giggled softly, loving the startled and pale look on Emma's face, purposefully misunderstanding the blonde. "You haven't taken your eyes of her the whole afternoon, Emma. Henry called her mom just several minutes ago, and you are moving to a place where she lives. It is pretty obvious what is happening here. I'm glad for you." Leaving sputtering blonde in the kitchen, Samantha went to her boy as he was waving her over. The words that the other woman spoke played out in Emma's mind the whole evening and as she said good bye to the last of their guests, Henry by her side, she considered the truth of what the red haired woman has said. Without the fantastical information she possessed, the others would pretty much assume what Samantha had already, that Regina was the reason they were moving to Maine. And, she realized that she did not mind their belief at all.
Henry and she returned to the apartment, sighing at the mess that was left behind. Regina had already picked up the dishes and was in the process of stacking up the washing machine, pointing them toward the trash bags she had pulled out for the debris that remained. Working with the gentle music in the background, Emma and the boy goofed around, sometimes singing along with the stereo, sometimes competing over who would pick up most of the damaged parts of streamers, or using up the remaining cans of silly strings, screaming in glee, running away from each other. Once they tried to sneak upon the brunette, but her pointed finger and rather terrifying look dissuaded them from even thinking about attacking her with the colorful threads.
But the brunette did not mind the laughter Henry and Emma shared, almost brought to tears with their antics, silently giggling at the indignant shouts and feats of revenge, messing up the place even more than the twenty people that had been at the party had. But, as it was getting very much late, she reigned in their rambunctiousness and directed them to actually clean up the place, before tucking in the still chuckling teenager to bed. She had heard the door open and close, knowing that it was probably Emma taking out the trash, as she stayed with Henry, enjoying his excitement over the success of his gathering. Promising him that he would be able to come back to New York once or twice a year at least, she left him to sleep, turning off the lights behind her, and with one last look she closed the door of his room.
Regina walked out into the living room and found Emma sitting at the dining table, with her head leaning on her forearms and groaning softly, most likely in pain. The brunette took the pill bottle and a glass of water and lowered it right beside Emma's hands, the sound of heavy glass on the wood alerting the blonde to an object close to her limbs.
"Thanks," Emma whispered as she lifted her head of her forearms, grasping the glass and snagging the proper dosage of pills for her pain. There had been a moment at the party when Emma, in order to move out of the way of playful teenagers, had had to press herself against the wall, and with no surprise only Regina had seen the following wince, quickly ushering her into the bedroom, wanting to check the stitches. Although the wound had seemed fine, the injured flesh had been tingling and aching for the most of the evening, driving Emma to insanity, and only with great focus on her distractions she had managed to hide it from her guests. Now, without anything else to focus on, the pain returned, stronger than before, her muscles screaming in need of relief, and so she rose slowly, unable to contain a soft whine leaving her throat, and directed herself to the bedroom, hearing Regina's elegant footfalls behind her.
Already feeling the effect of the strong painkillers, Emma quickly divested herself of clothes, changing into her sleeping wear, before gingerly lowering herself onto the bed, knowing that Regina would change in the bathroom. She hoped she would be asleep before the brunette returned into the room, not willing to start a conversation while under the influence, as it acted as a truth serum of sorts on her, and familiar with Regina's modus operandi, the Mayor would seize the opportunity to learn things Emma would've never divulged otherwise.
But, it was not to be as she felt gentle hands lifting her tank top, uncovering the bandage over her cut. Not able to contain her murmur at the itching sensation of sticky surfaces, Emma gave herself away, and immediately after she heard Regina's soft voice.
"Does it still tingle?" The brunette prodded the wound gently with her clean fingers, frowning at the slightly inflamed skin around the black lines of the sutures. Hearing Emma's negative reply in form of a grunt, she doused the wound in the antibacterial cream, making sure to cover everything with the off white gel. Placing fresh gauze over it, she fixed it with several stripes of medicinal tape, before she lowered the tank back in place. "Victor needs to see this as soon as we get back," Regina commented softly before she gracefully walked to the other side of the bed and lied in it, not commenting at all on Emma's position atop the quilt.
"If you think so," the blonde murmured, her eyes already closed, as she stretched her back gently, placing her hands beneath her pillow.
"What did Mrs. Hulbert tell you that made you flinch?" Regina suddenly asked, remembering the scene in her mind vividly. She had felt the eyes on her, but Emma's gaze was familiar to her after the years spent under it. But this particular feeling had suggested someone different, and turning around, she had seen the ginger and Emma conversing, the blonde trying to make a point, while the other woman chuckled with mischievous look in her eyes. Regina hadn't missed the Savior's expression or the sudden choke on the drink she had had in her hand.
"Mhm, she thinks we're together…" Emma replied absently, her eyes still closed, missing Regina's reaction. "It's what all of them think, anyways. Not that it matters, really…" The blonde nuzzled into the pillow before continuing, completely oblivious to the Mayor's surprised look. "It is a story good as any… " Then, before dropping off to a sleep Emma managed to murmur one more thing, leaving Regina startlingly awake after it. "I wish it were true…"