A/N – Thank you all for waiting so long for this chapter. This is a fillery one, but all I'll say is enjoy the calm while you can, because I've got big plans for the next couple of chapters... College has seriously made every update slower, but I can promise you I'm still having the best experience writing this. As always, huge love and gratitude to all of you!
25. Coming Home
The drive back was mostly silence.
It didn't snow again, but the roads were still mostly empty, and the drive seemed to stretch on for hours. Still, Emma forced herself to stay awake, refusing to leave Regina alone for even a second. She wished she could drive. She wished she could say something.
Instead, she leaned her head against the foggy window and watched the pine trees and empty roads fly by, sinking deep into herself. Neither of them spoke. It was like they'd agreed not to – the air in the minivan seemed somehow heavy, loaded, thick with things that didn't need to be said. Emma's mouth was dry, and her mind was filled with echoes.
I love you, Emma thought, catching Regina's face in the windscreen reflection. I love you I love you I love you I love you.
It went by surprisingly quickly, a blur of dirty snow melting on tarmac and brown pine needles on the windshield. She started recognising roads before she knew it – and all of a sudden, four hours had gone by and they were passing the faded old welcome to Storybrooke sign that hadn't moved since she was a kid.
A few streets away from home, the minivan drew to an abrupt stop, idling by the kerb. They were a couple of minutes away from the mayor's house, where she'd drop Emma off before going home to wait for Henry – Regina had texted Robin their updates and he said Henry wanted to come back early. Still.
Emma leaned forward softly. "Regina?"
"I'm sorry, we can get going again in a minute." Regina told her quickly, voice strained and tight. She winced, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. A long, low sigh escaped her. Her forehead nearly rested on the wheel. "I don't want Henry to see me like this."
Emma managed a soft little smile, despite the dull pain knifing through her chest. "You have time," She reminded her gently.
Regina twisted around in the drivers seat, meeting her eyes with a tiny nod and a hint of a smile. "Thank you."
They sat for a few moments, watching the breeze shake the bare branches of the spindly little trees lining the pavement outside, before Regina straightened up suddenly with a sharp breath. "You know what," The brunette pulled down the sun shield, peering at herself in the tiny mirror and dabbing at the make up under her eyes. "I'm not letting her win again. I can't." She breathed in slowly, hands going back to the wheel. Regina twisted around in her seat again, wide brown eyes meeting Emma's. "How do I look?"
"You look beautiful," Emma told her, half a smile curling at her mouth despite everything. "You always do."
Regina laughed – an incredulous noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh. "You're ridiculous." She peered back over the shoulder of the seat, dark eyes finding hers. She was biting her lip. "You know that?
"Ask a stupid question," Emma said sheepishly. Silence settled over them for a minute. Without thinking, Emma cleared her throat again. "Regina," She said.
"Mmm?" Regina glanced back over at her, clearly distracted.
Emma swallowed, fingers twitching clumsily over the armrests of the chair. "I know everything that happened today was..." She wet her lips, breathed in. "But last night was probably the happiest I've ever been. Something happened in that lake house and I don't know what it was but... It meant a lot to me. And when I talked to your mom this morning I wasn't scared. I didn't doubt myself." The blonde lifted her gaze to Regina's. "You make me strong. So I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you."
Regina blinked a couple of times, coffee-dark eyes shining in the winter sunlight. "Don't."
"What?"
"Don't thank me." The brunette told her, voice soft and genuine. "You were the one who bought me the music and the scarf and when you said those things to me, Emma... Last night was all that for me, too. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect evening."
Emma swallowed, ducking her head awkwardly. She couldn't help the spill of warmth that rushed from her chest to her cheeks. "Almost makes it worth the shit, doesn't it?"
"There's no almost!" Regina smiled – an honest, effortless smile. "That was the first time I'd been intimate with anyone since the divorce. And even before then it was... I just –" She cut herself off, clearly unable to fight the smile stretching over her lips. "It was rather perfect, wasn't it?"
"Really perfect," Emma agreed, with a lingering smile.
"Come on," Regina breathed in, shaking her short dark hair back behind her shoulders and grasping the wheel again. "I think I'm ready to go back now."
So they drove the last few minutes to the Nolan's house, pulling up neatly in the grave drive. Regina killed the engine and opened the door, stepping out into the chilly wind with a feeling in her chest like hope. As she went around the back to unfasten the safety attachments for the wheelchair and find the ramp, Emma caught a glimpse of her mom coming out the front door, bundled in a pink cardigan and scarf. She'd sent a text earlier, nothing too detailed – Change of plan. Coming home a day early. Talk jogged over as Regina hooked one of the bags over the wheelchair handle, another over her shoulder and manoeuvred her down the ramp, wheels crunching the gravel on the drive.
"Hey," Emma greeted, mustering a smile.
"Hey," Mary Margaret echoed. She glanced between Emma and Regina, before reaching out to take one of the bags for them. "Let me. How are you?" She seemed anxious. Clearly, she'd sensed some tension just from Emma's text. "Was your trip okay?"
Emma glanced up at Regina, windswept and beautiful. They exchanged a tiny smile, and Emma met her mom's eyes again when she spoke for both of them. "It was an experience."
"Right," Mary Margaret blinked. "Well I'll take your stuff in." She paused, before quickly pulling Regina into a hug. Emma stared – the brunette looked startled, but not in a bad way. When she released her, the older woman squeezed her shoulders like she used to do to comfort Emma when she was a kid. "It was nice to see you, Regina."
"You too," Regina admitted.
Once Mary Margaret was inside the house, Regina stepped around the back of the chair to push her down, but Emma stopped her for a second before she went inside. "Hey," Emma said, motioning with her head for Regina to come face her. Green eyes found brown. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
"You know what?" Emma watched attentively as Regina breathed in, shook back her hair and plastered on a bright, convincing smile. "I actually think I am."
"You're strong." Emma reminded her.
"Thanks to you." She leaned down, cold hands covering Emma's on the armrests of the wheelchair, warm lips meeting hers and sealing into a short, sweet kiss. "You've been amazing." Regina paused. "You are amazing."
Emma smiled up at her, squinting through the blonde hair blowing about her face in the frosty wind. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
"Tomorrow," Regina agreed.
-0-
Regina had just finished unpacking when Henry's text buzzed in.
There was more to do than necessary thanks to their early departure, but she was oddly thankful. It made her calm, in a strange way, folding clothes she hadn't worn and putting them back where they belonged, tidying her make up on her bedroom vanity. She was still wearing Emma's red sweater, she realised – she could return it whenever, she supposed. She already had a couple of the blonde's shirts in her top drawer.
She sat down on the edge of her bed, finding her phone and opening the message. Regina scanned the text beside Henry's grinning contact picture on screen: Hi mom, nearly home. I'll be there in five minutes. A breath of relief left her lips.
Regina tapped out a quick reply before clicking her phone shut and setting it back down. She was glad Henry was coming home today rather than tomorrow – she wasn't sure she'd be able to spend tonight alone.
The wound was still raw – every time she saw her mother, it seemed to open up a dozen scars she didn't know she still had – but if there was anything that did the opposite, it was Henry. He could heal her with a smile, calm her with a laugh. And so can Emma. The thought was still a little dizzying – that even now, after everything, she had people who she could count on like that. Real family.
Regina hurried down the stairs and zipped on a pair of boots, tugging Emma's red jumper tighter around herself as she found her keys and made her way out the front door. The air was bracing, leaves on the garden bushes crusted with frost.
She wasn't outside for long before she heard the sound of a car coming down the street, and her heart leapt irrationally in her chest. When the taxi cab rounded the corner and she caught a glimpse of bright eyes and red cheeks through the back window, Regina couldn't help the big smile that broke over her face.
"Mom!" Henry grinned, throwing open the door and bounding out of the car. His hair was a mess, his stripy scarf was half undone, and his backpack strap was twisted, but he looked happy – he launched himself into her arms without a second word, skinny arms wrapping around her middle like a vice.
She caught him tight with a laugh and a sigh of relief. When she dropped her nose down into the top of his head, he smelled like Henry and home and his strawberry shampoo. This. She squeezed him tight before finally letting him go. This is what family is supposed to feel like.
"Welcome back," Regina breathed, brushing his hair off his forehead. He pulled a face, but he didn't protest too badly. She took the chance to plant a quick kiss above his brow before he could squirm away. Still, he was smiling and babbling on about what his short stay in Portland while she thanked and paid the cab driver.
"Now," Regina began, as they walked back up to the house with her arm around his skinny shoulders. "How was it? Tell me everything."
It wasn't until later that Henry finally found the courage to ask.
They'd fallen immediately back into what had quickly become one of their family rituals since the move – after dinner, they both retreated to the couch. Regina took the side nearest the door, curled up with a book, while Henry stretched over the other side, stack of comic books beside him.
Around them was the house they had chosen for their new beginning, but that wasn't what it was anymore, Regina thought, settling back against the cushions and turning the page of her book. This was their home now, their safe haven tucked away in a sleepy street in Storybrooke, Maine. It felt like respite, and the pictures hanging on the walls were like works of art. The doorframe already had Henry's latest growth measured in pencil marks.
The room was perfectly quiet except for the rasp of paper as one of them turned a page. The blanket Regina pulled over both of them was soft and nubby, some relic from Henry's infancy. In the middle of the couch, Regina's thick socks brushed against Henry's blue slippers. Her heart was never so impossibly calm as it was then, safe back home, sharing an old blanket with her son, wrapped in her girlfriend's sweater.
Just as she predicted, she could almost feel her scars closing up for another day, the way they'd started out by the lake, when Emma told her she was good and made her feel as whole as she did now.
That was when Henry finally asked the question.
"Mom," He said, usually chirpy voice turned serious and mature.
Regina looked up from her book, eyes finding his big earnest ones, staring up at her across the couch. He'd put his comic down, she noticed; it was laying in his lap on top of the blanket, brightly-coloured cover closed. "Yes?"
Henry looked at her, small face all adult and mature. He paused for a second, seeming to consider what to say. Eventually, his wide eyes found hers and he found his voice. "How come you and Emma came home so soon?" Henry paused, chewing his bottom lip. "You were so excited to go. Did you have a fight?"
"No," Regina gently closed her own book on her bookmark. "No, no, sweetheart, we didn't have a fight." She paused, glancing down at the blanket in her lap for a moment before meeting her sons eyes again. "Your grandma showed up."
"Oh." Henry's face fell as he took in the new information. Regina held her breath, searching his face. After a few moments, he looked up at her. "Did she make you sad again?"
Something in Regina's chest collapsed. "Henry –"
"Grandma always makes you sad." Henry cut her off. "I know she doesn't mean to but she does." He was pouting slightly, brow furrowed in thought. "Doesn't she?"
Regina swallowed, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. She studied her son for a moment, staring over at her, so concerned. His hair was sticking up at the back. She always seemed to underestimate just how mature and understanding Henry could be. So she breathed in and leaned forward to take his small pale hand between hers. "Henry," Her eyes sought his, voice soft. "Your grandma and I never had the kind of relationship you and I do, and I don't think we ever will. You know we had problems when I was younger."
"And when she showed up..." Henry figured, eyes never leaving hers. "It made you sad."
"Yes," Regina admitted, swallowing hard. "I wasn't expecting to see her so suddenly. I wasn't prepared and... It made me sad."
"Oh." Henry nodded solemnly.
Regina breathed in, drawing his hand closer to her, thumb rubbing soft circles absently on the skin there. "But I'm fine now, sweetheart." She managed a smile, just to prove it. "Emma was there for me this morning and she made me feel better."
"Emma made you happy," Henry repeated. Slowly, a satisfied smile crept over his face. "I knew she was like the saviour in my story." He said, almost reverently.
"Yes. She is." Regina nodded, heart suddenly flooded with so much love for this little boy in front of her. She swallowed, giving his hand a squeeze. "But you make me happy, too." She paused, trying to find the best way to relate it to him. "Because you're like the prince."
-0-
The next morning, Emma woke up back in her own bed in the annex at the end of the garden to pale sunlight streaming through her familiar blue curtains. She moaned, pushing her face back into her pillows and willing herself to go back to sleep. Since she should be in a lake house somewhere in New Hampshire right now, there was no nurses round this morning, and no reason to wake up early. Still. When she opened her eyes, the other side of the bed was empty.
She sighed into her deserted bedroom.
Staring up at the ceiling, Emma couldn't help but feel almost relieved to be back. After everything tat had happened with Cora... Well, she still wasn't entirely back to normal, and it was nice to be around all her stuff, knowing her family was close by. There's a development. Just a year ago, the idea of talking to her parents made her uncomfortable, let alone Ruby or any of her other friends.
She wondered how Regina was doing.
While it was true that first evening in the cabin – their first night together – was one of the most special moments of her life, almost sacred, yesterday was a blur of pretty much every negative emotion she'd ever felt. She couldn't stop thinking about Regina's face, the look in her eyes when she'd told her they had to leave. The way her voice sounded so soft and young and unlike her. It was like she was going out of her way to prove to me that I wasn't enough.
God, that hurt her. More than she thought possible. The thought of Regina in pain was just unthinkable, and the sight of it... She just couldn't fathom how anyone could make Regina feel that way. It made her want to fight something – or at least just be able to. She sighed again to the empty room.
Emma knew her words had helped, and the long drive back was cathartic. Hopefully spending a quiet evening in with Henry had been good for her as well. Emma would drop by to check on her and Henry later, and she could make sure. Now that she knew – knew everything – she could throw herself into supporting her. All she wanted was for Regina to see herself the way she saw her... Well, if Regina could do that for me when I was at my worst, I can goddamn do the same for her.
But first, breakfast.
Mary Margaret came down to the annex for her meds and stuff, and she didn't even need to ask whether or not she wanted to come up to the main house to eat with them. It just happened. The garden was freezing when she pushed her up, neat lawn crusted with frost, but inside the house was warm and the smell of pancakes cooking wafted from the kitchen. A small smile appeared on Emma's lips despite herself.
"Morning," She called, letting her mom manoeuvre herself around the door and over to the kitchen table.
"Morning," Her dad was standing at the cooker, holding a pan over the heat and humming along under his breath to the folksy old song on the radio. His short hair was still wet from the shower, sheriff's badge glinting at his belt. Emma twisted to watch her mom smile at the sight of him, going to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before picking up the paper from the counter and taking her own seat at the table.
"Something smells good," Emma observed, managing a smile. She raised an eyebrow when he turned around. "Pancakes?"
"Pancakes," David confirmed, giving the pan a shake. "Plus all the trimmings. We've got blueberries, strawberries, raspberries or cheese if you wanted savoury."
"Seriously?" Emma grinned across the table at her mom, flicking absently through the paper. "What's the occasion?"
David turned around, grabbing a couple of plates. "Who needs an occasion?" He slid a pancake from the fryer onto a plate. "Pancake Sunday's tradition, remember?"
Mary Margaret smiled into her coffee. "What your father means to say is that we're glad to have you back." She set her mug – the chipped one that read number one mom, a reluctant mother's day gift from a seventeen year old Emma – down on the table and looked up at her. "You're first trip away from home since the accident, and there were no complications."
"We're happy for you, kid," David finished, piling another pancake onto a plate and twisting it to set on the table. "You want coffee? Tea?"
"Coffee's good," Emma nodded, still eyeing her parent suspiciously. She knew there was nothing else going on but still... The three of them sitting at the breakfast table together, bringing back pancake Sunday? Despite everything, it still felt almost too good to be true. But maybe, for what she needed from them today, it was perfect.
David took her hands free attachment out of the cupboard and started fixing it to a cup. "We're happy to have you back." He added. "Even if it is a day early."
Emma breathed in, steeling herself and staring at her mom's coffee cup. She knew what was coming.
"Yeah, what happened with that?" Mary Margaret asked lightly, taking another sip. "I mean, not that we're not relieved."
"Um." Emma swallowed hard, wincing. "Regina's mom turned up."
David slid another couple of pancakes onto a plate and set it down in front of his wife, wiping his hands on the front of his jeans. "And what, kicked you out?" He was smiling.
Emma tried not to sigh. She was sense of openness she was slowly rebuilding with her parents, but Cora wasn't hers to talk about. Even if she was... Emma shook her head. "There's a lot of water under the bridge there." She paused. "We figured it was better to just come back and let her get on with it."
"That sounds like a smart move." David nodded. He gave her a second look before pouring out her coffee, with a hesitant look in his blue eyes that told her he understood everything she wasn't saying.
Mary Margaret took another sip of coffee and closed the paper, setting it down neatly beside her plate. "But I take it you had a good time? Before that, I mean."
"Yeah," Emma nodded, smiling gratefully as her dad set her specialised cup of coffee down in front of her. The smell of it warmed her from inside out. "The best."
"And she liked her birthday presents?" Her mom asked, eyebrow raised. She'd helped her find the scarf, and ordered the music for her when she told her that was what she wanted to get her.
"Loved them," Emma admitted. She couldn't help grinning then. "Everything was perfect."
Breakfast, somehow, went the same – the food was amazing, and it didn't seem to matter anymore that she couldn't do it herself. She and her parents got on so easily, it was almost like the days before the accident, when they'd have a rushed breakfast together before her mom would rush off to the town hall and she and her dad would drive the truck into the station. They laughed. They talked. It made her feel oddly light, and gave her the strength to finally ask what she'd been planning to.
"Hey, Dad," the Emma began. He was washing up the plates – Mary Margaret was upstairs getting dressed. "I wanted to talk to you about something, actually." She paused, fingers twitching awkwardly against the arms of her chair and summoning the courage to glance up at him. "You got a minute?"
Despite the face she'd put on, she had to admit Cora's words from the other day had been playing over and over in her head ever since, echoing off the insecurities inside her. An unemployed thirty two year old who still lives with her parents. So instead of moping and wallowing in self-loathing like she would have done six months ago, she decided to do something about it. Cora was right, to some extent. That person, who just sat around doing nothing all day, that wasn't her anymore. That wasn't who she needed to be for Regina, or for herself.
"Sure," David turned off the tap and drew up a chair at the kitchen table. "What's on your mind?"
"Um," Emma cleared her throat, trying to figure out how to word it. "It's more of a question, really." Her dad nodded earnestly, waiting. His eye were bright and expectant. She breathed in, and just said it – the words came out of her in leaks and starts, but they came out. "If I were to go back to the station... for work..." Emma trailed off, finally meeting his eyes. "How do you think that would go?"
David's blue eyes widened, lit up with surprise and something else. He stared at her. "You want to go back to work?"
"Maybe not immediately." Emma clarified. "I mean, I could always start part time and then work my way back up to where I was, if that would be okay. Obviously, I won't be able to go chasing perps and stuff like I used to but there's a lot I still can do." She paused. "And I'd like to. If you think that would be okay."
"Wow, Emma..." Her dad trailed off, incredulous. A light smile was brushing over his mouth, eyes sparkling with something deeper. "Are you serious?"
"Absolutely." She nodded. "If you'd take me back."
"Well I'm sure I can fix something up. The other guys will be fine with it," He paused, glancing towards the window with his eyes scanning the air, clearly figuring everything out in his head. He must have decided it was fine, because when he turned back to Emma he was smiling genuinely. "To be honest, all your work stuff's still over there, just kind of waiting for you."
"Ok," Emma swallowed. She hadn't realised it would be so easy. "Wow."
"I can sort out some of the paperwork for you Monday if you want," David offered. "You don't have to start right away, but I can get it fixed up for when you do."
"No, yeah, of course." Emma bit back a smile, satisfaction and a buzz of anticipation settling in her chest. I'm going back, she thought, I'm going back. "Thank you."
"It's nothing," David assured her, standing back up and picking up her now empty coffee up, taking it to the sink. "Like I said. Everything's just kind of been waiting for you."
Yes, Emma thought, despite herself. Maybe it has.
-0-
Regina was just getting out of the shower when she heard the knock on the door. Damn it. That would be Emma, ten minutes earlier than expected. Damn it. She winced, hastily pulling on a robe and belting the grey silk tight as she went to push open the bathroom door. "Henry!" Regina called, hearing another knock on the door. "That's Emma, can you –"
"On it!" Henry shouted back, and she heard the door open, Emma's voice, the two of them saying hi.
Regina hung her towel over the rack and took a quick look in the mirror – her hair was dripping wet, face totally bare. Oh well. Couldn't be helped. She frowned at herself, hastily fluffing her wet hair and tugging her robe tighter before stepping barefoot into the hallway and hurrying downstairs. "I'm just –"
"Hi." Emma's voice was soft, looking up at her from the hallway with Henry beside her. She was wearing one of her ridiculous woolly bobble hats, tip of her nose red from the cold outside. Regina suddenly felt very self conscious, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a challenging eyebrow. Emma's face broke into a grin. "You look gorgeous, by the way."
"Shut up," Regina shot her a warning look, padding down the rest of the stairs and trying to ignore the feeling bubbling up in her chest – it was the same ridiculous, overly sentimental feeling she'd had last night, when she and Henry had both fallen asleep under that blanket on the couch. It was the feeling of home, and family. She bit her lip, glancing between Emma and her son. "Henry, why don't you go and pick out a movie? It's your turn to choose."
"Sure," Henry grinned, bright eyes twinkling as he stared between the two of them. "You two are just gonna be gross anyway."
"We are not gross –" Regina protested, but Emma cut her off.
"I'd run, kid." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Things are about to get super gross."
"See," Henry turned back to his mom, shooting her a look. "I actually think it's really nice." He explained, matter-of-factly. "I like you being happy." All at once, the maturity faded from his pale face and he wrinkled his nose. "I just don't wanna see it."
Emma laughed, and Regina folded her arms, watching him run off to the den to find a movie. Once he was gone, Emma turned to her, soft lazy smile curling over her mouth. "Well," she said. "You can't argue with that logic."
"No." Regina agreed.
A crackling silence settled over the foyer of the house, tingling with unspoken words and echoes. Regina tugged her robe tighter again, pulling her short wet hair over one shoulder. Emma was still looking at her, not saying anything. Just looking. After a few moments, she spoke up, voice soft and gentle. "How are you?"
Regina shuffled her bare feet on the carpet, nodding slowly before meeting her eyes. "I'm doing better. Really." She breathed in, taking a step closer. "What you said yesterday was perfect, and Henry helped a lot last night." She mustered a smile, chest aching slightly at the fact that this woman, this wonderful, special, incredible woman who had been so depressed and full of rage when they'd first met had taken the time to ask whether she was okay. She still wasn't used to it. "Thank you."
"You gotta stop thanking me, 'Gina," Emma told her softly, smile ghosting over her lips.
Regina smiled despite herself. "Isn't that my line?"
"Come on," Emma motioned with her head. "Let's go watch that movie." She turned the wheelchair in the hallway, making for the den. "And afterwards, I've got some news to tell you."
Later, when the movie was over and the credits were rolling and Regina was cuddled into Emma on the couch, everything she'd felt from yesterday just melted away, like frost under the sun. Henry was draped over the other side of the couch, staring at the screen with rapt involvement in his wide eyes, hair a mess. It was a Marvel movie, and he insisted there was an extra scene at the end they had to wait for. Emma had agreed, leaning back against the cushions. Regina's head was tucked into her crook of her neck, breath soft and warm against her skin. She couldn't feel it, but she could see their legs tangled up amidst the cushions.
Yes, Regina thought, remembering how she'd felt with Henry last night. The house had changed, slowly becoming a home with every picture frame and pencil mark and keepsake on the windowsill. It was home, for the two of them, but it was more than that, too. It was more than that because of the red sweater thrown over the back of the chair without any intent of moving. It was more than that because of the album in the CD player, the tall brown boots next to the designer heels and Captain America sneakers in the porch.
That calm feeling settled over her again like dust at the realisation, and for the first time in her life, family and home meant more to Regina than a pretence that needed to be upheld.
As if reading her mind, Emma spoke quietly, resting her head against Regina's. "It was worth it, Regina," Her voice was calm and quiet, green eyes trailing from Regina to Henry to the rolling credits on the TV screen. "It was all worth it."