A/N: I want to thank you all for your continous support. You have no idea how happy it makes me. If I have been updating at all (since my life is a complete mess right now) is thanks to you and your encouragement. So, thank you!
This chapter was difficult to write. I know many of you are possibly waiting for fluff. Sorry, it aint gonna be the case. I tried to make the situation as real as it can be, given that these two women are stranded on an island, alone and constantly thinking about the son that is still missing. So, yeah. This is gonna be bittersweet. But, regardless of that, I still think you're gonna like it. Please, let me know your thoughts at the end of the ride!
Warnings: Mentions of abortion.
Her brown eyes find her own reflection on the surface of the water. Her shape is slightly distorted and the wind ripples the surface, but she doesn't need the most exact clarity to make out the one shape she needs to see: her belly.
Regina lets her hands travel slowly down her torso and map the slight bump forming, tracing its concave shape with a touch as light as a feather. Her eyes won't leave the surface of the water, though. She doesn't dare cast them down to her own skin.
To say she's terrified of the truth would be an understatement.
There's no denying it though and, as her palm molds itself to the rounded shape of her belly, Regina closes her eyes and lets out a shuddering breath. Her mind won't stop reeling with questions, to which she has not a single answer for.
How this came to happen is something beyond her comprehension.
Regina opens her eyes again and lets them drop to the one place she wishes she did not have to look at. But she does it nonetheless because, if there's something she's learnt in a lifetime of pain and regret, is that no matter how much you deny the ugly truth, it always comes back to bite you in the ass. So Regina looks down at the gentle swell of her stomach, at the way her hands curve ever so slightly around the skin there.
How did she become pregnant is a thought she cannot even begin to process in her mind.
She knows how the mechanics work. Hell, she even became pregnant a few times with Leopold's spawns, which she'd miscarried on purpose as soon as she'd found out.
Regina shakes her head. She doesn't even want to address those thoughts. It's not like logic will help her with something like this, simply because there is no logic to this pregnancy. How can there be?
No.
This is something else.
Regina focuses on her hands, on the skin they are lightly ghosting over as she tries to stop her mind from reeling back to the previous times where she'd discovered herself pregnant. Those had been dark, awful times; times she does never want to revisit again. And yet she finds herself at the brink of doing precisely just that, thanks to… whatever it is she's carrying inside.
This pregnancy reeks of magic and yet, Regina's sure there is absolutely none in the island. She'd tried more times than she can count to cast magic and even the simplest of spells had failed.
This place is just like Storybrooke, there's no magic here. If there was, something, at least some stupid spell would have worked and, so far, none has. And it's not like she wants to bluff, but she is one of the most talented magic practitioners there are, next to Rumple, and if her magic doesn't work here, then no one's does.
The island is devoid of magic and, if that is the case, then this pregnancy is outrageous.
What is worse, Regina doesn't know what to do with it. She doesn't even know if she should tell Emma at all. She's not sure how the woman would react to something like this, but she figures that if she herself is terrified, then Emma would have a freak out.
Regina turns to face the lake again and watches her reflection staring back at her. She barely even recognizes herself anymore. Her skin is darker than ever, thanks to her constant exposure to the sun; some freckles that were never on her skin now mar the bridge of her nose, shoulders and chest. Her hair is lighter, another side effect of the exposure to the sun, and much longer. She carries it past her shoulders now.
She's not the only one who has changed, though. Emma has been subject to quite a few changes herself too, both physical and personal. Although, to be fair, so has she.
The island, the seclusion, the knowledge that they are the only two people here, has changed them both. It has certainly made them grow closer in a way Regina never thought could ever happen. She even likes to entertain the idea that Emma considers her as her friend.
Regina's eyes rake the surface of the water until they land on her stomach.
Yes, the island has certainly changed her, in more ways than one.
Regina waits in silence, sitting by the edge of the cliff, watching as the sky turns a beautiful shade of pink before her. It's dusk, precisely the time she'd told Emma to meet her up here.
Somehow, she'd managed to keep the pregnancy a secret for a few more weeks. It hadn't come as an easy task, though. Brushing off Emma's insistent worried looks and making up excuses as to why she didn't want Emma to touch her required her to pull almost every single trick she'd learned in all her years as a politician back in Storybrooke. It was fair to say they paid off, at least until last night.
Emma had tried to initiate sex by gently running a hand up her thigh. It was late in the night and Regina was fast asleep. She did not feel Emma's hand on her skin until said hand found purchase on her navel. Regina's eyes sprung open in alarm when Emma's warm hand settled on her skin and she scurried off the bed as if it was on fire.
The blonde gave her such a look of worry that it was almost impossible for Regina to lie straight to her face. She almost told Emma about her pregnancy then and there, but something stopped her. It didn't feel like the right moment to break down such delicate news to the blonde. That's why she'd promised to answer her today, at dusk, on the cliff, where Regina feels safer.
If she has to be honest with herself, she's not sure why she didn't tell Emma the very same day she found out about the baby. Some weeks have passed since that day and now the baby bump cannot be easily hidden anymore.
Regina doesn't know when was the moment of conception but, if she had to guess, she'd say it was four to five months ago, near her birthday.
She only wishes she knew how she became pregnant; at least she'd be able to offer Emma more answers than the ones she's got, which are very few, to say the least.
As if on cue, the sound of a twig snapping breaks her reverie and, shortly after, a body is plopping down next to her. A deep sigh follows but neither woman breaks the silence with words, just with sounds.
Regina's eyes are trained on the setting sun. Dusk has always been a true wonder to gaze upon from the cliff. Clouds colored with the waning light, the sparkling sea below and the first brave stars breaking out in the horizon.
She used to do this very same thing back in the Enchanted Forest. She used to gaze at the sky as it changed before her eyes from her balcony in her royal chambers. However, Neverland's sky has a beauty Regina has never seen before. It's as if it were a different sky, wilder and magical, truly wonderful.
A hand wraps around hers, fingers weaving, molding perfectly with hers, and she blinks, finally breaking out of her absorption. She didn't want to become aware of Emma's presence beside her but she is now, with the other woman's hand warming her cold one, pulling her from the comfort of her own thoughts.
Regina doesn't turn to look at Emma, though. If she does, she is sure that whatever little resolve she's managed to gather will dissolve to dust right before her eyes. She keeps her gaze fixed on the setting sun but her mind doesn't zone out again. This time, she's conscious of her surroundings, of her situation, of Emma's anxiousness, of the shift in the air, of the blonde's unspoken words: "you promised."
And she has. She's promised Emma to tell her why she's been rejecting her for so long, why she's been acting so aloof, and she will, right now. She just needs to find her voice first.
Regina clears her throat and automatically feels Emma's hand tightening around hers, squeezing with as much reassurance to surprise her but to get her going, too.
"I…" Regina starts and her voice sounds wobbly, even to herself. She wonders where her usual impassible self has gone right now, because she doesn't seem like herself at all at this moment in time.
"Regina," Emma chimes in softly, almost like she's walking on a thin layer of ice, afraid that it might collapse under her unexpectedly if she speaks any louder. "You can say it."
Regina gulps and fights back the urge to cry. Damn the hormones.
She's terrified of Emma's reaction but, at the same time, she knows she cannot get away with hiding it anymore. She has to tell Emma.
"Emma, I'm…" The hand covering hers tightens around her once more, giving her the strength she so desperately needs to get this out once and for all. "I'm pregnant."
Finally it's out and she feels both like she's lifted a huge weight off of her and as if she's suddenly walking on that thin layer of ice herself, waiting for Emma's final judgment.
Maybe the blonde will snap and the ice will break under her, the coldest water she's ever felt submerging her into the deep. Or maybe Emma will smile and stretch a hand out for her to take, helping her back to the safety of solid ground.
That's why when Emma bursts into laughter Regina finds herself completely stunned, the blonde's unexpected reaction to the news taking her by surprise. She frowns. Emma thinks it's a joke, she thinks the pregnancy is a joke.
Somehow, it angers her. Emma's reaction was the one she had not anticipated and she doesn't know why, but she almost prefers to have felt the frosting water licking at her skin instead of this.
It must reflect on her face, surely, because Emma's sudden laughter dies on her throat just as fast as it'd begun, green eyes widening with realization.
"You're kidding." It's a statement. Alas, a wrong one. And it shows on her face, the slow crumbling of her features, the fear creeping in, overthrowing her. Confusion clouds her eyes too and she adds, fretfully this time: "Right?"
Regina doesn't need to answer. The truth hangs unspoken in the air. She knows this, Emma knows it too. As Sydney once said, "She doesn't joke."
Emma's lips part, not in wonder or happiness, but in shock and fear. All the questions bombarding her head shine like neon lights on her face. Emma feels exactly the way Regina was terrified to think she would. She knew it all along, maybe that's why she kept it to herself until nature forbid her to silence the truth further long.
Regina was deprived from sleep more nights than she can count, afraid of this moment, afraid of Emma's reaction. And now it's replaying right before her eyes almost in slow motion.
She feels rather than sees how the warmth on her skin leaves her abruptly and she watches, unable to move, as Emma rises to her feet and stumbles almost clumsily in her haste toward the tree line.
"Emma, wait." She calls but her voice gets lost with the wind, unheard or possibly ignored by the blonde.
And, of course, she doesn't wait. It would have been the unpredicted with Emma Swan.
In that moment, a crumbling feeling invades her. All those nights fretting over this moment were not in vane because Emma had reacted the same way Regina had projected she would: by running.
Emma's body disappears like smoke behind the trees; she doesn't even leave her footprints behind.
A mixture of emotions swarm before her eyes: sadness, anger, betrayal. A part of her screams for her to stay put, to let Emma have her moment of weakness, but another part, perhaps stronger than the former, makes her jolt to her feet and swat at some offending tears rolling down her cheeks. She'll be damned if she lets Emma get away with her inaptitude to face the hardships of life.
Before she has time to process what she's doing, Regina finds her feet moving on their own accord, racing purposely through the shrubbery, chasing after the retreating blonde.
She catches sight of some wisps of blonde hair in the distance, disappearing between the thick bushes, but it's dark and Emma is damn fast when it comes to running away, and so it's not long before Regina loses Emma's trail.
She calls after her, once, twice, even thrice, to no avail. Emma is far from earshot by now. However, Regina doesn't relent. She keeps running, willing her feet and her unusual slow self to move as fast as she can.
She doesn't know why she's chasing after Emma, or why it is of outmost importance for her to find her, but she doesn't stop to mull over it. She has to find her first. Then, maybe she'll understand why she's running frantically through the woods in the dark after a person who left her to deal alone with what is probably one of the hardest pivotal moments of her life, next to losing Henry.
Unwanted tears glaze her eyes and Regina blinks them away furiously. They keep forming, though, mindless of her feeble attempts at ridding herself of them.
A sob erupts from her mouth. Then more unwelcomed tears flood her eyes, blurring her vision, making it hard for her to see. She trips with something hard on the ground: a twisted root, and crashes forward. Her hands barely cushion the fall and, for a moment, Regina gasps in fear, both for the sudden loss of air and the sharp pain on her belly.
She knows something's not right the moment she steps on the cabin. It's the air around her. It feels thicker, charged. It makes the hair on her neck stand on end and a shiver run up her spine.
"Regina?" She calls tentatively from her spot under the door frame. Emma knows something is wrong but she doesn't dare to move. She waits, until she hears it, soft, almost inaudible, but still there: her name.
"Em…?"
It comes from the adjacent room: their bedroom. It's Regina's voice, unmistakably, but it sounds so fragile and strangled that, for the shortest minute, she doubts it's her at all. But she is, because who else could it be?
It has to be Regina and, if it is…
Emma sprints into a run, crossing the small space separating her from their bedroom with two wide, hurried steps. She wrenches the door opened and storms inside the room, looking frenzied and with her heart hammering in her chest.
The sight that greets her makes her blood go cold.
Regina is sitting against the headboard, propped against the cushions, and she looks small and vulnerable. Her brown eyes are red-rimmed and filled with unshed tears.
"What happened?" Emma hears the words escape her mouth, unaware that she'd given her brain the command to utter them. With one large step she's by Regina's side, sitting beside her stiffly, terrified once more.
Regina turns to look at her and a pair of eyes brimming with tears set on her worried ones. "I fell." She offers feebly and a few hot tears spring from the corner of her eyes.
It takes a full minute for Emma to put two and two together but, when she does, and she understands, she wraps her arms around the brunette and brings her close to her. "Hey, it's ok."
Regina's body trembles in her arms as her body wrecks with sobs.
Emma rubs her hands soothingly on the brunette's back, trying to offer her some comfort. "It's ok. You're ok."
Regina stiffens in her hold and she suddenly pushes Emma away. "No, it's not." She says, eyes blaring.
Emma has to put some distance with the brunette to look into her brown eyes, swirling with worry and guilt. A frown finds its way to her brow. "Regina…" she starts, and shakes her head once to clear her thoughts. "You are ok." She insists because, despite looking like a complete mess, eyes puffy and red, hair tousled and hands scraped, Regina is fine. Unless… "Wait. Are you hurt?" and just like that worry takes over her and Emma's hands begin to inspect the other woman's body for any injuries her eyes may have missed on their first assessment.
Regina squirms under her touch and she fumbles with her hands until she manages to grab both Emma's wrists and push them away. "Yes, Emma." She spits angrily and Emma sits back on her heels, looking intently at her. "I am fine."
"Well, then what-"
"I fell, Emma." Brown eyes brim pleadingly. "Don't you understand?" Regina's voice breaks. "You of all people should understand…" She shakes her head and chuckles sarcastically. "But, of course you don't. Why should you care? You made it perfectly clear that you do not."
When Regina's honey brown eyes turn dangerously dark in front of her, Emma has the impression that she's done something terribly bad, even though she's not sure what.
"Regina, what—"
"You really don't get it, do you?" Regina asks, and all the anger seems to fade away for a moment when realization hits her. "Emma…" her head drops and a curtain of dark hair covers her face from sight.
Emma scoots closer to her and drapes an arm around Regina's shoulders. "Hey," with her free hand, Emma gently guides Regina's face against the comfort of her chest. "Talk to me, please."
A hot, shuddering breath, hits her skin and, a second after, two hot tears splash on the skin between her neck and shoulder.
"I was chasing after you," Regina says, her voice merely a broken whisper. "I was careless and I fell." She takes a moment before adding, "I landed on my stomach. If the fall had been any harder, I could have had a miscarriage, Emma, and I know you don't want this baby, you've made it perfectly clear when you run away, but I already lost one child. I will not lose another."
The silence that follows is heavier than ever before.
Regina's words echo in Emma's head on a loop and something clicks, right then.
A miscarriage.
To lose one child: Henry.
To not lose the other.
Another.
Another child.
Regina's pregnant.
She's pregnant.
Emma's eyes widen with realization. When she'd run, because suddenly her reality had become too much for her to bear, she hadn't even stopped to think about what the brunette was really saying. Now, the weight of her words settles on her mind and her first reaction is not the expected one. She doesn't run. Not this time around.
Instead, and against all prediction, Emma takes Regina's hand in both of hers and raises her eyes to meet a pair of shocked brown ones.
"I'm sorry." She offers as an apology. It's sheepish but honest and Regina seems to understand, because her lips part in wonder and the first vestiges of a smile threaten to overthrow her features. "For running, I mean."
Regina doesn't say anything, though. Apparently, she knows better than that.
"And I, uh…" Emma takes a deep breath. She's not good at explaining herself, let alone how she feels. "You're wrong about what you said, about the… baby."
Regina's eyebrows rise at that and she looks about to interrupt her, so Emma hurries to add: "I do care." Surprise is written all over Regina's face and her eyes sparkle in such a way that it makes Emma drop her gaze to the space between their two bodies, where their joint hands are linked together. "About you… I care about you, Regina, and I don't know what this means. This, this pregnancy, but I do understand the need to protect this child, like we were not able to protect Henry."
"Emma…"
"No," Emma cuts in. "No. I mean, it's ok." She runs a hand through her tousled blonde locks but keeps the other holding Regina's like a lifeline. "It's fine."
Regina lets out a long but steady breath, and her body seems to relax for a moment.
"How…?" Emma asks quizzically then, eyebrows arching impossibly high. She doesn't need to complete the question. It's been resonating on the brunette's mind for close to five months now as well.
"I don't know, Emma." The way she phrases it sounds so hopeless and truly clueless at the same time that Emma feels terrible all of a sudden, more lost than ever before.
"Well, when did it happen?"
Regina throws her eyes heavenwards, thinking, trying to be as specific with the dates as she can. "Four months and a half, I suppose."
Emma furrows her brows together, doing the math mentally as well. "That's close to your birthday."
Their eyes meet in mutual understanding. The gears snapping into place one by one. "Yes." Regina's mouth parts and her eyes widen, so do Emma's.
"Regina," her heart starts to beat frantically in her chest. Could it be? Did they do this? "The wish. What did you wish for?"
Regina takes her hand from Emma's hold and sits back on her heels, looking at Emma with wide, fearful eyes. "Surely you don't think…"
"Actually, that's exactly what I'm thinking."
"Emma…"
"No, Regina." Emma shakes her head once. "Remember what I told you? About my twenty-eight birthday?" Finally, everything is starting to make sense, and it rings so true actually, that is fucking scaring. "I made a wish that day, Regina, and it came-"
"True." Regina finishes the sentence for her, face clouded with wonder and shock. She averts her eyes for a moment, unable to look at those wide green ones staring straight at her.
Emma reaches for Regina's hand once more. If Regina's expression is anything to go by, the brunette is swimming in a sea of turmoil right now and Emma will not leave her alone to drown, not again.
"So, what did you wish for, Regina?"
Regina sighs, "I wished to see Henry again."
Her words make Emma's brow crease in confusion. "What?" She asks, because it can't be. "Then, how…?" Regina's wish was specific. She wished to see Henry again. There is no way that it could have been misinterpreted. She wished for her son, to see him again, not to create a new life inside of her. So, if Regina hadn't wished for this baby then who… "Wait."
Emma's face drains from all color and Regina leans closer to her, a worried frown etched upon her face. "What is it, dear?" She squeezes Emma's hand reassuringly once and waits until Emma feels ready to speak again.
"Your wish," Emma starts, a vacant look on her face. "You didn't wish for this." She raises her eyes to meet a pair of honey brown. Regina's eyes do not convey the shock Emma is sure hers do. It makes sense now, as her mind goes back to that day she's perfectly capable of remembering the situation with clarity. Right before Regina had made the wish, she'd looked unnerved, like she wasn't going to be able to do it. So Emma had taken Regina's hands in hers to offer her some comfort and, as Regina had been concentrating on making her wish, Emma had been thinking about how important it was for her that Regina didn't lose her hope. She'd wanted her to keep hoping, to keep believing. She'd even wished…
And so she finally understands. It wasn't Regina's wish.
It was hers.