Watching the moon grow the second time ground all of them like a sandstorm, taking tiny pieces so slowly that they didn't notice how raw they all were, and it seemed to wear most on Regina. Perhaps because she'd need to sacrifice a pint of blood again before she'd recovered from the using the last one for a spell, that she was trying to be strong for Emma, Maleficent and Henry, or maybe because she was more of a workaholic than Emma. As the second dark moon approached, heralding their tiny window of time where they might find the missing member of their family, the dark circles under Regina's eyes seemed permanent, no matter how much she slept.
Maleficent slept better in dragon form, and once she was well enough to be on her own, she spent whole afternoons curled up in the rare spring sunshine, like a giant, scaled cat. Henry found it fascinating, because he had Regina's intellectual (nerdy) qualities enough to find the magic behind becoming a dragon interesting, not just the idea of a dragon, as he would have a few years ago. He spent a many afternoons with Maleficent, sitting in the sun, reading old spellbooks while she dozed. Henry had become incredibly knowledgeable about spells, even though he'd never cast one and Emma noticed that Maleficent soaked up Henry's presence as much as the sunlight. He was so easily comfortable with her, so naturally unafraid and admiring, that she smiled and meant it, when he made a joke.
Regina supported the time they spent together wholeheartedly; Henry's optimism was strong enough to rub off on even the most grumpy dragon, and Maleficent's long memory filled Henry's desire to know about the world he'd come from and never seen. Besides, whatever lay behind their insect problems, Henry was safest with a living flamethrower.
Emma still avoided her parents, because the argument waiting between them hung like a cloud. It was difficult to pretend she hadn't seen them across the street, and awkward to make small talk with them in the line at Granny's for takeaway, and eventually, slowly, they settled into a routine where they didn't speak of what they'd done. They talked about little Neal, about the beetles, about the weather. Sometimes, Regina had to turn down a tentative invitation to dinner, because Emma wouldn't hear of it. So they left it, let Emma's anger simmer, perhaps it festered, but she couldn't face them, not when she saw the pain they'd caused every day.
She couldn't look at her mother and father, knowing they'd caused the doubts that kept Regina from sleeping, or that they were responsible for the misery Maleficent no longer bothered to hide from any of them. Letting go Henry voluntarily had been bad enough, but having him taken? She couldn't forgive her parents for forcing Maleficent through that. Regina tried to help; she blamed herself, as she always did, but that made it harder to forgive her parents, because Emma only had to look at Regina and the remorse all over her face before she boiled inside. Regina had no problem admitting the wrongs she'd caused others, yes, she'd get all bristly when she did it, but that made sense. She used sarcasm to defend herself, and she knew what she'd done was wrong. Her parents didn't even feel bad. They thought they were right, which meant that Emma had been so broken that somehow it was worth all of this pain to make her better.
And it wasn't. In no world was the suffering of two women she cared deeply for worth her being better. She would have happily been whatever she was meant to be, even dark and villainous, if she could have given their daughter back to Maleficent and Regina. Emma didn't have that choice, so she hated her parents, and in a deeper place, loathed herself for needing to be saved at so high a price.
Emma knew that wasn't true, couldn't be true, but it haunted her. The thought that she was weak, wanting, and on the verge of unspeakable darkness, stalked her even as she lay protection spells around the outlying houses to defend against the beetles. Maybe that was why she couldn't forgive her parents; they'd laid an old wound bare and she didn't know how to help it heal again. She'd been getting comfortable with her parents, trying to forgive them for letting her go, for having another child and treating him like the first. She didn't blame them, but she couldn't help being jealous in the most hidden part of her heart. She didn't blame little Neal; she loved him, but he was the child who was good enough on his own. Nothing had been sacrificed for him, he wasn't broken, and he was the child they kept.
Emma poured her emotions into her work; protection spells fed on positive emotions, like love and trust, and she only needed to think of Henry and Regina to make those fly from her fingertips. Burning the nests of insects away took fire, and she had enough anger at the moment to keep burning until all of the cursed insects were gone. Did self-loathing make a different kind of fire? Maybe it didn't matter, because she kept the town safe. Regina told her, over and over, that she was perfect, that she was enough, and Emma wanted to believe her. Sometimes she almost did, because Regina's heart was always in her eyes, and she loved without hesitation. Even Regina's faith couldn't chase Emma's fear.
"You could just believe her," Maleficent said, leaning against a tree while Emma searched the smoking ground for any devouring beetles that had escaped the dragonfire blast. They'd been out all afternoon, tracking and burning. Mal was usually easy company because she prefered not to speak, but she'd read Emma's mood easily enough, and been pondering something since lunch.
"What?" Emma asked, even though she knew, because Maleficent never let anything rest.
"Regina loves you, Henry loves you, instead of lashing yourself with doubts, you could just accept that," she suggested. When Emma uncovered three beetles, Maleficent incinerated them easily with a burst of flame.
"I do."
The dragon lady shook her head and crunched one of the smoking beetle shells beneath her boot. "You don't."
"I don't see why you care," Emma retorted, falling into step behind Maleficent as they continued their search through the forest.
"Now that's a lie," Mal's said, her voice light, teasing, but there was something true in it. Something Emma didn't want to face. "You know I care about what happens to you, and if you do not want to agree with that, you make Regina happy, which is something that I have a vested interest in."
"So you want me to be happy because you still care about Regina?" Emma knew she was being ridiculous, but she didn't care. She didn't care if Mal ended up blowing fire around her, because she needed to be angry.
Mal stopped, turning to face Emma. The height difference between the two of them was less pronounced then when Regina stood next to Mal, but Emma was still very aware that Mal was taller, stronger and more dangerous.
Grinning slowly, Mal toyed with the lapel of her coat because apparently villains couldn't even dress down for a bug hunt. "You are in quite a mood today, aren't you?"
"I'm sorry," Emma muttered.
"Don't be," she replied, shrugging. "Out with it."
"What?"
"You're radiating anger like a bonfire, I feel it." Mal took a step closer, cutting some of the distance between them. "I happen to have a very keen sense for these things. If you need to be angry, be furious. It's just you and me and the devouring beetles. I can take it, and they need a good scorching."
Emma thought about stepping back, but she was trapped. Retreating was a weakness she wouldn't allow herself. Mal taunted her, and she knew it. She wanted to lash out, to hate, to rage against her parents, and she'd spent so long holding it in. Her hands itched, then burned, as if she clung to poison ivy or a live wire.
Mal flicked her eyes down to Emma's hands. "See?"
Instead of the glowing white Emma's magic usually was, this time her hands shone with fire. It was still tinged pink-white, but it licked around her fingers, hungry for destruction. Emma's realisation of what she was doing broke the building magic and it popped and went out, as if dowsed. "What was I doing?"
"Being fucking pissed," Mal said, reaching for her shoulder. "You will always have traces of dragon fire within you, and while I'm profoundly grateful that you took that on, it does mean that fire will come more easily to you now, and that's not a bad thing. It can be useful."
"I've never been able to cast fireballs," Emma reminded her, or herself, she wasn't sure anymore.
"Now it seems you can," Mal said, lifting Emma's hands and studying her palms, as if she could see something there beneath the skin. "What you've learned so far, neat, orderly spells from the books Regina has given you, that's new magic, and it's planned. It's written down and collected over years. It's like a recipe book, all you need are the right components and anyone can cook. Dragon magic is much older, it's living fire, and that's unpredictable. It's not something that can be written down and understood by everyone. It brings out different things in different people, burning its way through your defences. Regina already knows anger, so it won't be that for her, but you, it seems you've never taken the time to know that part of yourself."
Emma resisted the urge to pull her hands away, because she knew Mal wouldn't let her go, and for some reason, that comforted her, because she knew she couldn't retreat. "What does that matter?"
"It means you need to stop denying that part of yourself, because if you don't let it out, it'll burn its way through," Mal said, leaning closer. Something about her smelt like a bonfire, and flames seemed to live within her blue eyes. "Just let it go. Be angry, hate your parents, hate yourself, yell at me, burn the forest down around us. Whatever you need to do."
"I don't need to," Emma resisted, and she tugged her hands, trying to get them free.
Mal held her tighter, her fingers like iron claws around Emma's wrists. "Of course not, you're the precious little saviour who's so good she can't even cast a fireball."
Living flame returned to Emma's hands, burning yellow-orange, scorching out the pale pink as the fire took over. Anger raged through her, banishing her control, flowing like lava- unstoppable- and she burned them both.
More accurately, she burned the ground they stood on, turning the underbrush to smoke and ash as the pine needles crackled. Heat blossomed all around them, but Emma didn't feel it. Mal's hands were tight around hers and the fire raged without them. Emma's anger boiled off, softening into wonder because they stood in the middle of a circle of black earth, entirely unharmed.
Mal studied her, smiling ever so slightly. Was she pleased? Proud of Emma somehow? Maleficent shook ash off her shoes and patted Emma's shoulder. "The last time I wanted revenge I burnt an entire forest to ash and bedrock. It made me feel better for awhile, but that kind of release doesn't stay with you. It takes the edge off, several things can do that, but it doesn't address the problem."
Emma's mouthed opened in surprise. "Address the problem? My parents stole your daughter-"
"Regina's daughter," Maleficent interrupted, and she was right, because thinking of Regina made the embers of rage in Emma's stomach blaze up again.
Emma stared at her, and her palms itched again. "You're not going to tell me to get over that?"
"Of course not." Her tone dropped, becoming almost a growl in her chest. "I could tear them to shreds, boil their blood, crush their bones, and I wouldn't be rid of what they've done. I've seen revenge and anger destroy someone I care about, and I'd rather not watch something similar happen to you."
Shifting her feet in the dark ash on the burnt earth, Emma kept her eyes cast downward. She took a breath and thought of Regina. However imperfect Emma was, even with everything that was wrong with her, Regina loved her. She'd said it out loud; she meant it. Even though Emma had cost Regina a relationship with her daughter, she loved her. The smallest voice insisted that maybe she wasn't as broken as she thought. "Why didn't we burn?"
"I don't burn," Mal answered as she reached to tilt Emma's eyes up to hers. "It's easy enough to extend that to others while I'm touching them."
This apparently included Emma's boots, which she was grateful for. "So you're not going to get revenge on my parents?"
Maleficent pursed her lips and then sighed, her shoulders falling wearily. "There's no point in revenge. Would their suffering please me for a moment or two? Yes, I can't say it wouldn't, but I'd rather know my daughter was safe and forget about them. Which I acknowledge is considerably easier said than done. Revenge is a cycle that ends with the misery of everyone involved. Life is precious, and there are other things I would rather spend mine engaged in."
Emma wanted to touch her, to put a calming hand on her arm, something, but she didn't, because maybe Maleficent didn't want to be touched. Maybe they didn't know each other well enough. "Beetle hunting?"
Her answering smile had a predatory glint to it. "Those at least, we can burn."
They walked in silence for a time, listening for the telltale scrabbling that gave away a beetle horde. Emma fell in step behind Maleficent, even though Emma probably knew the woods better, Mal seemed more comfortable in the front. Following her left Emma time to think. Could she only cast fire when she was angry? Was it another dragon fire thing? Could she use some other emotion?
"Do I have to be angry to cast fireballs?"
"If you have questions, Regina's a far more patient teacher of magic than I," Maleficent replied without turning around.
Emma smirked, because Regina could be patient, incredibly so, but sometimes she was also so impulsive that she made Emma feel restrained by comparison. It made Regina's gentleness all the more precious when it happened. "Humour me, I'm curious."
"Magic can come in many forms, and it will always take its cost from you. Sometimes the toll is being in a certain emotional state, or having the right spell components, many times you'll pay physically, headaches, nosebleeds, exhaustion," Mal paused and rested her hand on a tree while Emma caught up to her. "Tell me, is fire always destructive?"
"No, it's heat and cooking and keeping warm, right?"
Maleficent nodded, relatively pleased with Emma's answer. "Anger can be destructive, and you can use fire to scorch and kill, or you can use it to protect, even heal. You'll have to call on other emotions to do so."
"Like what?"
"Love, contentment, desire, all of these can turn into warmth, warmth can become fire. You'll learn, in time." Maleficent reached out and touched Emma's chin again, studying her as if she could see something that Emma didn't know was there. "You have power, and you'll learn to use it. It takes time, and mistakes. You've already survived dragon fire, so learning fireballs should be easy for someone as talented as you."
Emma met Maleficent's eyes, almost surprised by how soft and caring they were. Was this what Regina saw? Who she fell in love with so long ago?
"I'm not a good student," she admitted.
Mal released her chin, and smiled. "I'm not a teacher." She pointed her hand down the path, as regal as if she was pointing the way in a castle, not some dark, beetle infested, woods. "However, we're what we have, so we'll make do."
Returning her smile, Emma's heart lifted, taking some of the weight out of her chest. She had Regina, Henry, and their pet dragon. Maybe together they could bring their daughter back, start to repair the damage her parents had inflicted. "That's the best offer I've had in awhile."
"Thought it might be."
As the dark moon approached, this time when they prepared for the spell, Maleficent went first with the bloodletting. Regina sat next to her, watching the little bag of blood fill next to Mal's arm while she joked with Henry about something from his video game. Dr. Whale had insisted both of them have an electrolyte IV, and he'd almost tried to argue them down from using their blood at all. Mal had bared her teeth and explained that if he didn't take her blood, she'd drain it herself, which would be worse and do far more damage, that he'd then have to fix. He'd given in and Mal's vital signs remained steady. She'd had a month since the last bloodletting, and she'd recovered because she had the dragon's strength to draw on.
Regina allowed herself to hope that she'd be as fortunate, but as soon as Whale took her vital signs, he frowned.
"Your blood pressure's already low, taking more's going to be hard on you," he said, tucking his stethoscope behind his neck.
Emma's cool fingers wrapped around her hand and squeezed gently, promising she'd be with her. "Can you give her more electrolytes? Maleficent's fine."
She didn't even seem dizzy as she watched them from the nearby bed. Henry sat with her, asking about some part of an old book. Mal seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood today because she had even eaten the cookies they'd given her, and usually she hated anything sweet.
"Maleficent healed remarkably quickly, considering how poor her vital signs were a month ago. However, Mayor Mills, please understand that your vital signs were healthy last month, but this time, your iron's already low, and your body temperature is elevated by several degrees. There are many reasons to run a fever, and if your immune system is trying to fight off a virus, we'll be giving it a chance to get a foothold by weakening you further. Even if everything goes perfectly, you'll be dizzy from the loss of fluids and immediately anaemic, and I'll want you on bed rest for the rest of the day. Perhaps tomorrow as well."
"I'll keep her in bed," Emma promised, holding back a smile. "I won't even let her do paperwork there."
Whale was unamused. "You'll need a full litre of fluids, iron supplements to make up for the loss of red blood cells, and to be cautious. No strenuous exercise. You'll tire easily-" He would have continued, but Regina waved him quiet.
"Just take it and get it over with," she ordered firmly enough to quiet him. "Emma will look after me."
Dr. Whale would have protested for several minutes more, but she glared enough to quiet him. One of the nurses came over to set the needle in place and start the fluid IV in her other arm. Emma brushed her forehead, then kissed just where her fingers had been. The intimacy of her lips, and the bravery of the gesture where so many people could see, made a warm knot replace the irritation in Regina's stomach. The nurse smiled, but knew better than to comment, and left them alone.
Mal had been allowed up already and Regina wanted to hate her for not even looking pale. She'd been spending time in dragon form, lazing about in the sun, growing stronger. As frustrating as it was, that made her happy, because nearly losing her had shaken Regina deeply. Mal was fine now, and she stood, smirking over Henry's head (unlike Regina, she was still much taller than him) with her hand on his shoulder.
"Moms, I'm having dinner at Belle's tonight, okay?" he asked, looking from Regina to Emma.
"Fine with me," Emma said, patting Regina's shoulder. "Your mom and I are having soup and watching TV anyway."
"That's hardly necessary," Regina insisted. She would continue to protest that she was fine, even though her left arm had already gone cold from the fluid IV, and her head had started to swim. It didn't help that she'd already been tired when she'd gotten up that morning, exhausted by lunch, and now she couldn't help but be grateful that no one expected anything of her other than not passing out, which seemed to be the limit of her abilities at the moment.
"Mal's coming too," Henry added, glancing up at Maleficent. "We were talking, and Belle couldn't believe that she can't cook."
Mal shrugged and rolled down the sleeve of her black button up shirt to cover the bandage in the crook of her arm. "I tried to explain that I can cook just fine."
"If by 'cook' you mean, burn an animal to a crisp on the outside while keeping it half-raw on the inside, then of course you can," Regina retorted, waiting for Mal's smile.
"That's how I prefer my animals. I seem to recall you being the picky one," Mal teased back. "I had to try so many times to get venison cooked to a standard that you'd actually deign to eat."
"Some of us can't stomach charcoal and blood in the same bite," Regina shot back, enjoying Mal's playful smile. At least she was well again. Regina could handle her own body protesting its mistreatment, she had always bounced back before, and this would be no different.
"Belle's promised us steak on the barbeque, which I must admit sounded too tempting to refuse," Mal finished, letting their teasing go. If Mal had let up, than Regina truly must look like hell. Maleficent leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Emma's got you."
"I know," Regina whispered, meeting Mal's eyes before she turned her attention back to Henry, who looked just as concerned..
Henry leaned down and carefully hugged her, resting his head on her shoulder for just a moment. "We'll be at Belle's if you guys need anything, like ice cream, on our way home."
Regina returned his shy smile. "We might just need that, now that you mention it."
"I thought you might," Henry replied with an all-too-knowing smile.
Emma wrapped her hands around Regina's left hand, trying to ease warmth back into her fingers. "I'll let you pick the movie, you can choose something intense and intellectual and explain it to me every time we pause it."
Squeezing Emma's fingers was harder than it should have been, and her hands and feet were so cold all of a sudden. Blood continued to snake out of her arm in the long flexible tube, and Regina shivered watching it. Emma stole her gaze, gently tilting her head up so she stared up at Emma's beautiful face, instead at of her own blood leaving her body.
"Might want something simpler," Regina said, before shutting her eyes. Why was hospital lighting always so terrible? The fluorescent lights above her head seemed to pulse in unison with the steadily growing pain behind her eyes. Magic slipped from Emma into her, chasing the cold, easing the ache in her skull, and helping slow her breath. Her eyes fluttered open, and judging by the gentle way Emma looked down at her, this healing was intentional. Emma couldn't solve all the problems of anaemia, falling fluid levels and her exhaustion, but she could ease her symptoms. Regina glanced at the blood pressure and heart rate monitor Dr. Whale had insisted on connecting her to, and watched her own vital signs creep back towards normal.
"Not too much," she said, stroking the back of Emma's hand with her thumb. "Whale gets frustrated when you mix magic with his medical science."
Emma nodded, and the flow of magic between them eased, which brought some of Regina's headache back, but it was significantly less distracting than it had been. She climbed onto the bed beside Regina, sitting next to her with Regina's hand in her lap. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."
"It's really not so bad," Regina insisted, still fidgeting with Emma's warm, comforting fingers. "I'm just a little dizzy."
"You're not," Emma corrected, shaking her head. "I can feel- I don't know what exactly, but I know your head hurts, and the balance is wrong, somehow."
"Which it would take a great deal of energy to fix," Regina reminded her. Easing her symptoms was one thing, convincing her body to replace her lost blood cells would take much more magic, and they needed to save their power, keep the town safe. It was bad enough that she and Mal would be so drained by casting the spell of finding again, they needed Emma to keep her strength. "I'll take painkillers when we get back, and I might allow you to fuss over me."
Emma kissed her forehead again, and her presence, just as much as her magic, made Regina feel better. "You might let me look after you?" she teased, gentle and patient. "What have I done to be so lucky?"
For a moment, Regina's eyes stung, because she'd so rarely been looked after. She had nearly forgotten how to allow someone, anyone, to do it. Other than Emma and Henry, she rarely trusted, never reached out, and the last time anyone had stroked her forehead, it had been Snow, after she'd been tortured. She'd had twenty-eight years of self-reliance under the curse, and since Emma had broken it, she'd increasingly needed Emma to protect her, and Emma always did. Emma loved her enough that caring for her was something she considered a privilege; Regina knew she'd been joking, but she hadn't trusted anyone, felt this safe, since her time with Maleficent long ago.
"Hey," Emma whispered, noticing her sudden turmoil. "We're okay. We'll find her this time. Maleficent's healed so well that she barely noticed losing her blood. It's just you," Emma finished, leaning over her protectively. "And I've got you, I promise."
"I know you do," Regina answered, squeezing Emma's hand because she couldn't move her arms enough to hold her. "I know, I'm just, well, let's say I'm unaccustomed to relying on anyone."
"Me too," Emma reminded her. "I guess that's part of why we work."
And they did work; somehow they fit together so well that Regina couldn't believe that she'd spent almost so much time without Emma. They were still learning how not to annoy each other in the mornings, and working through their demons, together and individually, yet their relationship had become something both of them relied on, and that made them, and Emma, all the more precious.
With Emma next to her, the rest of the time before her blood was collected and the little machine beeped its mechanical victory passed quickly. Emma kept the low-key flow of magic between them, and Regina suspected that was the only reason that she had any colour in her face when Dr. Whale checked her over.
"You'll need to return for some additional tests, when are you casting your spell?" He asked, keeping his skepticism of magic mostly out of his tone.
"Thursday night," Emma answered, her hand firmly on the small of Regina's back.
"Then you'll come in Friday-" Dr. Whale began, but Regina cut him off.
"We'll be leaving Storybrooke immediately if we locate Maleficent's daughter," Regina reminded him. "I'll come in on Friday if we don't find her, but if we do, your tests will just have to wait until we return."
"I'd prefer it if you didn't leave Storybrooke weakened," Dr. Whale argued, and she was both impressed and annoyed that he continued to insist. "If anything happens to you on the outside, Emma's magic won't be able to help you."
"If it's really bad, I'll bring her back," Emma promised, and her hand moved along Regina's spine, as if she also took issue with Whale's tone. "Besides, Regina's already taken the rest of today, Thursday and Friday off to recuperate."
"Well," Dr. Whale began, defeat softening his voice. "You know my opinion of the kind of magic you're toying with."
"Yes, thank you," Regina answered, turning that into a dismissal, because she was tired of resisting him, and all she wanted was to curl up next to Emma.
"I want you to return if any of your symptoms worsen," he ordered.
Emma nodded and picked up Regina's prescription note from the table. "She'll be all right." He left then, finally leaving them alone. Regina took a step closer to Emma, then rested her head on Emma's shoulder, just for a moment while the hospital room spun around her. Every time Whale spoke, she thought of horrors: losing Henry to the cursed apple turnover, Daniel risen from the dead and not himself, and Zelena coming to take Snow White's baby. Very little good happened in this hospital.
The familiar scent of Emma's leather jacket, and traces of her own floral shampoo in Emma's hair made it easier to concentrate, so she clung to that, and Emma. Emma did the little things that Regina would have struggled through on her own. She filled Regina's prescription in the pharmacy while Regina half-dozed in the car, drove home, got Regina settled on the sofa in front of television and one of Henry's comic book DVDs. The characters on the screen all blended together into bright colours and heroics, but it was simpler to follow that plot than something more complex.
She still fell asleep somewhere between Emma starting the film and bringing her hot chocolate and the time it took Emma to make dinner. She'd only half-drunk her hot chocolate, because Emma made it rich, and she was so tired that drinking it seemed like too much work. The giant tree and the racoon were doing something ridiculous on the screen when Emma eased her back awake for dinner.
"You have no idea what's happening do you?" Emma asked, sitting down on the sofa next to her after she set two bowls of soup and some bread on the coffee table.
"They're escaping," Regina answered. She knew a prison break when she saw one, but she wasn't entirely sure why the multicoloured, motley group of characters had been imprisoned in the first place. They had terrible manners, so it was likely that they'd violated several laws.
Emma let the film continue without their attention and Regina dropped her head to Emma's shoulder. "How's your head?"
"More foggy than painful," Regina assured her. It was almost a relief to be so tired that the pain in her head, and the strange stomach cramps she'd had most of the day, didn't matter. Still, Emma worried, and magic warmed her, rushing through from where Emma's lips rested on her neck.
"I brought you some painkillers anyway. You might as well take them with dinner," Emma suggested, leaning forward to grab Regina's bowl of soup.
Emma's infusion of magic made sitting up significantly easier, and Regina accepted the spoon and bowl. Her soup was pale gold, hot and faintly spiced. Regina recognised her own simple recipe for butternut squash soup and appreciated that Emma had gone through her recipe notes and been aware of what they had in the kitchen. Emma never took any credit for her cooking, claiming she'd learned it all from the false memories Regina had given her.
Regina didn't think that was true, because Emma did everything in her own way, even making pancakes, but Emma was so shy about any of her domestic capabilities that they hadn't discussed it much. Regina only managed a few bites of her bread, but she ate most of her soup, which was enough for the worry lines on Emma's forehead to fade a little.
Later, the dishes sat in front of them, empty and forgotten, and Regina spent the middle part of the film with her head in Emma's lap. Emma's gentle hands ran through her hair, stroking her scalp in a lulling, soothing motion. The film mattered so much less than Emma's touch, so that was what Regina focused on. Mal had stroked her hair in a similar fashion, decades ago, in what felt like another lifetime, and she hadn't been able to surrender then, not fully. Maybe if she had- Regina let that thought drift away and shut her eyes before they could do more than sting.
She didn't realise she'd fallen asleep until the knock on the front door dragged her up from the emptiness of sleep. Emma murmured something unintelligible and soothing, then her warm, soft mouth touched Regina's forehead.
"I'll get it," she said, gently slipping out from beneath Regina's head. Emma paused the dvd before she left, smiling down. "I'll be right back."
She did not quickly return. After Emma had been gone long enough to make her anxious, Regina opened her eyes. Starting to sit up, she immediately regretted moving; the soft fog in her head exploded into vivid white pain that flashed behind her eyes as she lifted her head. Shoving that aside, she forced herself to sit up, to get her feet beneath her. Her feet were cold, numb even through her fluffy socks. It was much cooler without Emma, and she wrapped her arms over her chest.
Voices echoed from the doorway, and she followed them, testing her fingers in case she needed to cast a fireball. Regina wasn't sure that she had much strength for magic; she'd have to rely on Emma, and the thought that she could comforted her. In the doorway of her house, their house, Emma spoke to someone, but she'd shut the door, so the conversation took place on the steps leading up to her home. Resting her hand on the white wall, Regina made her way slowly towards the entryway. It couldn't be Henry and Mal, because they wouldn't be back until later and they weren't expecting anyone else. She didn't like unexpected visitors, and she liked them less when she couldn't defend herself.
Regina rested her hand on the brass door knob for a moment, catching her balance before she recognised the raised voices outside. Emma's parents were here, late, unannounced, and whatever they'd come to say brought tension into Emma's voice that Regina immediately recognised, even through wood and glass. Pulling the door inward, she tugged it free of Emma's hand and stumbled into the argument.
"You can't just leave on some wild goose chase-" David began, ignoring Regina to stare at his daughter. "Especially when you'll both be leaving the town undefended against magic when no one understands where these beetles are coming from."
"Regina and I wouldn't have to 'leave the town undefended' if you two hadn't decided that the best way to defend me was to steal a baby," Emma said, her voice laced with venom.
Snow tilted her head, the way she always did when she was trying to understand that something she'd done might not have been a heroic act. Regina wanted to hate both of them for the pain in Emma's eyes, but she couldn't. It wasn't only her headache and the weakness in her knees that stopped her. She could have hated them while half-dead and Regina didn't hate them now because in their dense little brains, they'd thought they were protecting Emma. They'd taken her daughter, Mal's daughter, and sent her through hell for Emma. Regina could hate Snow and Charming for being sanctimonious, self-absorbed idiots, but she couldn't hate them for wanting to protect Emma, because she meant everything.
David reached out for Emma's hand, but she kept hers back, which ended up being fortunate because when Regina let go of the door, she wasn't steady on her feet. All three of them seemed to speak at once, their voices overlapping in a storm of sound, and a funny sort of heat temporarily replaced the pain in her head.
She must have stumbled, because her feet moved, then Emma had her, her arm firm around Regina's back, making her stable again. The night air ran cold fingers over her skin, yet Emma was warm, and her touch meant safety. Regina wasn't sure when she'd last felt that way; not even her father had been able to protect her from Cora when she'd misbehaved as a child.
"Emma-" Snow began gently.
"What?" Emma asked, her voice breaking with rage. "I'm sick of you trying to justify yourselves. You stole a baby, and that was wrong, even evil, because she was innocent and she deserved to be with her mother. I don't know how you can look at me now and justify that, knowing what I went through out there on my own. You put her through that too, took her from her family."
"Her family is a dragon, who killed three guards in front of us," David said, without pity. "We had a choice to make, and we couldn't let you be the destroyer," he continued said, still without the remorse Emma was searching for. "We couldn't take the risk that you wouldn't be the one to save us."
Emma's hand caught Regina's shirt, her fingers tense and damp with sweat against Regina's stomach. "What makes me better than her? You can't just decide that someone should suffer for me because I'm your daughter-"
"Yes we can," Snow interrupted her, taking a step closer to her. "You're our daughter, you're more important than anyone."
Regina put her hand over Emma's against her stomach, wishing she could help, but she didn't know what to say. She'd threatened Emma when she was a baby. She would have kept Emma from her parents, stolen her, if she'd hadn't gone through the magical tree. She wanted to blame herself for that, to internalise her anger, but Regina knew that she would have given Emma a family. She wouldn't have been with her parents, but she would have been looked after. The world outside Storybrooke hadn't given Emma that.
Had Regina's own lost daughter had a family? Had she been loved and happy? Had she been alone, afraid, and abandoned so many times like Emma had been? Wrapping her fingers around Emma's own, Regina held her because she needed that strength. She couldn't face those questions on her own.
"What was so wrong with me?" Emma begged, her throat so tight that her question was almost a sob. "You didn't have to sacrifice anyone to make sure Neal grows up well," Emma snapped, and her anger reverberated through Regina's chest. "You trust him."
"It's a different time," David argued, reaching for her again.
Emma shifted, keeping Regina between her and her parents like a shield.
"We were warned so we could save you, Emma." Snow pleaded, reaching for Emma's shoulder.
She pulled back, because she didn't want to touch them. She held Regina like a lifeline, as if she were the last thing floating after a shipwreck, and perhaps that was because she worried Regina couldn't keep her own feet, but she wasn't sure who needed the other more in that moment.
"You didn't save me, you damned her," Emma snapped over Regina's shoulder. "I grew up without you, without a family, and so did she. She could have had her mother. I might have been stuck with my empty life, because I can't escape fate, but she could have had her mother. She deserved that."
Snow nodded, tears shining in her eyes. Was she starting to understand? "Yes, she did."
Emma clung to Regina's hand so tightly that her fingers hurt. "You took her mother from her."
"Let's go inside," Regina suggested, stroking Emma's arm with her free hand.
Emma hesitated, and Regina let herself waver against her because Emma would take her in to protect her. Her head ached, and Emma's body against her was the only thing that kept her on her feet. Maybe she'd been standing long enough that her anaemia was catching up with her, because her head swam even more terribly when she thought about it.
"Emma, please," Regina added, letting some of her weakness into her voice, and that made Emma relax, just a little. Emma took her hands, leading her carefully, gently, back into the house. Snow and David followed them in and the front door shut them all inside.
Snow and David moved faster than they did, beating them to the warm light of the kitchen. Emma guided her, keeping her steady, but moving just made the throbbing in her head worse.
In the better lighting, Snow stared, studying Regina's face because she hadn't noticed anything outside. "Regina, what's wrong?"
"She had to give blood earlier today," Emma explained, her hands on Regina's hips. "She's supposed to be resting."
"I'm fine," Regina insisted, even though her lips stumbled with the words. She didn't want to be weak in front of them.
"Of course you are," Snow said, her eyes soft with pity, perhaps it was sympathy. Regina had always thought they looked the same. "Emma, we're sorry, we didn't know," she finished.
"The only spell we've found that can find Maleficent's daughter needs blood," Emma said, guiding her to the island so she had something to lean on. "Her mothers' blood, and a lot of it. Regina should be resting."
"We'll go," Snow said, taking David's arm and tugging him back towards the door. "We can talk another time."
"Stay," Regina insisted, resting her weight on her arms and the cold marble countertop. "End this. You took Maleficent's- my- daughter, and you thought what you were doing was right, because you always think that you're doing is right. Maybe it was, somehow, but, we need her back. She's of this world, our world, and she should be here, with her mother." The softness in her own voice as she finished almost surprised her, because it was such weakness, and she tried to avoid it.
"So we're going to bring her back," Emma finished for her, strong when she needed her to be. "Because I'm going to redeem what you've done, even if you don't want me to."
"That's the good in you," David said, looking to Snow and nodding. "That's what we had to protect."
She leaned next to Regina on the island, and Emma looked as worn as Regina felt. "Maybe this all plays into my destiny, and it's fate, or maybe she's just lost, like I was, but we can bring her home."
"We're not leaving you entirely unprotected either," Regina reminded them. "You'll have the fairies, and a dragon." She couldn't help enjoying the little shudder that Snow and David shared. "Cruella and Ursula can probably be counted on to defend the town, if only because it's in their best interest to do so. They're fairly attached to their new business venture and Maleficent knows how to persuade them to help her."
"We won't be gone long," Emma promised. She couldn't know how long they'd be away. Wherever their daughter had come through as a baby, she would have moved from there, and they'd have to count on Emma's skills at finding people. "This is something we have to do." Her hand ran across Regina's shoulders, then settled on her neck. Magic flowed from Emma's fingertips, softening her headache. She didn't know if Snow and David could sense the magic passing between them, but having her head be partially her own again made it easier to wait for the Charmings to finally get it.
"We understand," Snow answered, and something in her voice, and the way her shoulders straightened, suggested that she did. "Maybe you're right. She's one of us, and she should be here."
"She's the destroyer," David reminded them, surprise etched on his face as he looked at his wife. "You don't know what her being here will do."
"I don't," Snow agreed, and she met Regina's eyes before she stared at her daughter. "But I trust Emma. Wherever she is, this woman deserves a chance to be with her family and her own people, and if she's the destroyer, then that's a path we'll take if it comes to that. This is the hard road," she reminded her husband.
David still seemed unconvinced. "You think Maleficent will protect the town?"
"Of course she will," Emma said, shoving off the counter and pacing the small space of the kitchen as if it were a cage. "She lives here, Henry lives here, and we're the closest thing she has to family. We've all made mistakes, how can you ask us to let you atone, if you won't let her? You took her child and cursed that baby to a life of darkness, and now Maleficent's the one we trust to protect our son. You know what? It's all bullshit. You call yourselves heroes after you stole a child, but a villain raised our son and another one has spent the last few weeks trying to convince me that revenge isn't worth pursuing. Do you know how fucked up that is? Do you understand how self-righteous and awful you are for trying to keep the 'destroyer' out of this town when maybe fate meant that to be me, and she was supposed to be the one who saved us all."
Emma trembled where she stood, her eyes glowing with rage, like Maleficent's sometimes did. "I'm bringing her back, because this is her home and she should be here, with her mothers. And Maleficent's going to protect Storybrooke, because we asked her to. For Henry, and Belle, and everyone who can't protect themselves, because she understands that when you have power, you don't let innocents get hurt." Emma took a breath, then another. "She gets that. You call her villain, but she's only protected me. Even when I needed to be protected from myself. You're the ones who made this mess and you call yourselves heroes. The whole town does."
Magic crackled in the air, filling it like lightning waiting for the boom of thunder. The power of it made Regina's teeth tingle and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Emma fought with her breath, trying to steady herself, and she took Regina's shoulders, pulling her away from the counter and holding her, because she needed her. The light in the ceiling flickered, then brightened, and Regina's headache burned away. The pain sizzled off, evaporating like ice in a frying pan, because Emma had changed something. Her body ached all over, protesting whatever had just happened, and suddenly she wasn't cold, wasn't dizzy.
Emma panted, staring into Regina's eyes with confusion and desperation bright in her green ones. Regina stumbled forward, and this time her feet caught her, kept her up.
"Oh Emma," she whispered, starting to understand what had happened. Emma's head dropped to Regina's shoulder, and she sobbed once before she relaxed.
"Regina? Emma? What's happened?" Snow asked, moving towards them around the island.
"Emma used fire magic to heal me," Regina explained, still holding Emma. "Dragon magic. It's complicated, but she controlled it. Emma, that's not an easy thing."
"It was that or destroy something," Emma muttered. She rested her cheek against Regina's, then turned to face her parents, her hand still on Regina's arm. "You need to apologise to Maleficent and help her protect the town in our absence. When we get back with, you'll apologise to the woman whose life you ruined. Then, we'll talk about forgiveness."