Snow
Monday
Sitting in Granny's, the late afternoon sun, streaming through the slightly dirty window, Snow White sighed to herself, reaching for her phone. Emma was late. Which was nothing new in itself. From the brief time she'd spent with her daughter over the last few years, time keeping, she had learned, was not one of Emma's strengths. However, there was Emma-late, and a portal just opened up to another world and I got sucked through, late. And sometimes it was difficult not to jump to the conclusion of the latter.
The bell over the diner door dinged lazily and Snow looked up to see her grandson enter. On spotting her, he headed toward her, lugging his backpack onto the seat opposite and dropping down next to it.
"Grams?"
Still stewing about Emma, and space-time portals, Snow forced a smile.
"Hi, Henry. How was school?"
Henry shrugged, and Snow fought her natural irritation with the action, a throwback, she guessed from her cursed teacher days.
"It was ok. Are you waiting for Emma?"
Figuring that if her daughter had been sucked through a portal, her grandson wouldn't be acting so casual, Snow's smile grew.
"Yes, she was meant to meet me here fifteen minutes ago, but she must be running late. Have you seen her?"
Henry looked guilty for a moment.
"I was worried about mom, so Emma was going to check in with her. She might still be there."
Snow felt her worry flood back. "Is Regina ok?"
Another flash of guilt crossed her grandson's face, before his expression morphed into one that was distinctly her ex-stepmother.
"I think she's sick, but she wouldn't tell me, so Emma was gonna go see her. I'll text her."
So, that explained her daughter's absence. Snow fought back what she suspected was an inappropriate grin, grasping for the nearest distraction.
"Well then it looks like I've been stood up in favour of Regina, so what do you say you and I grab some fries and ice-cream and we don't tell your moms?"
The technique appeared to work, as Henry grinned back. "Cool."
A phone vibrated, and Snow habitually reached for her purse. Noting the blank screen, she looked up to see Henry waving his own phone in her face with a text from Emma.
'Yeah with ur mom. She's sick but ok. Gonna stay here. Can u stay with ur grandparents 2nite?'
Once again unable to fully contain a smirk, she fired back a message of her own to her daughter.
'Is Regina ok? Can I help?"
Looking back up she could see the impressed look on her grandson's face and gave a nonchalant shrug of her own.
Interrupting the mini victory dance in her head, her cell buzzed one more. Emma.
'Just a migraine but a bad 1 I think. Gonna stay here just in case. Sorry about dinner. Can Henry stay with u 2nite?'
Snow paused for a moment. She could feel the bubble of an idea rising in her stomach, dampened only by the look she could imagine on her husband's face, telling her to mind her own business. However, that didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun.
'Of course, Emma. Henry here now. Take care of Regina. Love you. Mom x'.
Turning her attention back to her grandson, she smiled once more.
"Well it looks like you were right, Henry. Emma says Regina has a migraine so are you ok to stay with David and I at the loft tonight?"
For a moment, Henry looked hesitant, and Snow felt like she was being tested, as she searched for an appropriate response.
"It's ok, Henry. Emma's staying with Regina so we both know she'll be fine."
She breathed an internal sigh of relief as this appeared to appease him and he grinned happily.
"So, what is it you were saying about ice-cream for dinner?"
Tuesday
David was still at work, covering for their daughter who had been not so mysteriously AWOL since the mayor took ill, and it had just taken Snow the better part of ninety minutes to get their son to sleep on her own. As she sat down to pour a large glass of wine, for medicinal purposes of course, before heading to bed herself, she startled at the tune being emitted, seemingly from one of her kitchen cupboards. Identifying the source as her phone, how it had ended up in with the canned goods would remain a mystery, she was somewhat alarmed to see that the caller was Emma.
Whilst part of her debated simply ignoring it and feigning innocence whilst enjoying her Chardonnay in peace, her better side won out and she swiped to answer.
"Hey, sweetie. You ok?"
There was a brief pause and Snow could hear some kind of commotion going in the background.
"Mom." Emma sounded panicked, which in Snow's experience was never good. "I need your help."
Feeling her own adrenalin kick in, Snow scanned her apartment, locating with ease her bow and arrow, whilst simultaneously lining up in her head a list of tough yet reliable babysitters for Neal.
Her train of thought was cut short, as her daughter's voice, rising at least one more octave, came back through the speaker.
"Regina has a fever and her temperature's really high." There was more background noise. "I opened all the windows and Henry's trying to find something to cool her down. I… I don't know what to do to help her."
The initial panic wearing off, Snow did her best not to chuckle out loud at the dilemma that had her daughter more freaked out than when she came face-to-face with her first ogre.
"Oh, and I made sure to take her clothes off."
The snort that Snow emitted was not subtle. She attempted to mask it with a cough, but Emma was so absorbed in her trauma that she didn't appear to notice. Instead Snow shrugged to herself, and instead focussed on both trying to get her daughter's attention and making sure she was taking the matter sufficiently seriously when she did.
"Emma."
Her daughter continued to mutter unintelligibly.
"Emma!"
This time there was silence, followed by a plaintive, "I don't know what else to do."
Feeling the need to take control of the conversation, and not only because it was the only way it was ever going to end and allow her to get back to her drink, Snow sighed, putting on her best no-nonsense mom voice.
"Honey, she'll be fine." So far, so good. "You've done all the right things." Emma sniffed in response. "Now you just need to keep an eye on her and keep her hydrated." There was a mumbled acknowledgement. "If you think she's getting worse and you're really worried, call a doctor."
Genuinely relieved that her daughter seemed to be calming down, and now a little concerned herself about Regina's health, Snow sighed.
"If she's no better in the morning, I can come over if you'd like." As the words slipped from her mouth, Snow cringed. She'd promised David that for once she would take Neal to his 'Mommy and Me' class rather than her husband. Oh, well, it wasn't like Emma was going to…
"Thanks, mom, that'd be great."
Damn it. Again, modulating her voice, Snow sighed. "Of course, sweetie. No problem. I'll see you in the morning."
Hanging up the call, Snow reached for her glass, resignedly knocking it back in one. Feeling a sudden wave of compassion for her daughter, and a glowing hint of pride that for once she was actually needed, she quietly made her way to the nursery where her son was sleeping. Staring at him in the soft light, she felt the same tug of emotion as she had to her adult daughter. His blanket had slipped off him, and she caught the edge of it, cooing at him softly.
"You're not going to go insane over a girl, are you honey." Neal gurgled in his sleep and Snow smiled thankfully before tucking the covers back over him. "No, sweetie, no you're not."
Wednesday
"Where are you going this early?"
Snow looked around guiltily as her dishevelled husband emerged from their bedroom. He'd finally crawled at around two in the morning, muttering something about dwarves, pickaxes and tequila, and she had thought it best to let him sleep. That, and once she was gone, there was little he could do about it.
Cringing, she smiled hesitantly. "Um, Emma called last night, really worried about Regina. It sounds like she's really sick, so she asked me to go over there to help out."
David looked sceptical. "She asked you? Really?"
Snow puffed up her chest, glaring at him. "Well, I offered, and she said yes. So, it's almost same thing."
Conceding defeat, David sighed, before a glint appeared in his eyes. "So, Emma's dropped everything to take care of Regina, huh?"
Schooling her features, Snow look reproachingly at her husband. "David, we cannot interfere in our daughter's love life." Or lack of one, she added to herself. "Our daughter is a caring person."
The scepticism remained on David's face, but he said nothing.
Snow smiled brightly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, our daughter needs me." She grabbed the bags she had packed from next to the front door, before pulling it open. "Oh, and don't forget Neal has to be at the community centre by ten o'clock sharp."
Ignoring the forlorn look of her husband, she turned and waved as his desperate plea fell on deaf ears.
"But, please, I hate 'Mommy and Me'."
-/-
Dropping inelegantly out of the truck, Snow grasped the holdall, containing a random selection of Emma's clothes from the apartment, pulling it with her. The grocery bag in which she'd piled containers of emergency soup retrieved from the depths of the freezer, had broken somewhere along the journey, so she balanced them on her other arm as well as she could. The food selection, she noted, was somewhat eclectic, even for her. But she figured Regina would turn her nose up at it, simply because of its origin, so why waste the good stuff.
As she was figuring out how to now open the gate, she looked up to find her grandson once again in front of her. He didn't look particularly happy, so she did her best to smile cheerily, as he opened the gate for her.
"How's your mom doing?"
Henry's face shifted once again to an expression that was both amused and scathing, and frighteningly Regina.
"Which one?"
Getting the distinct impression that her grandson was truly no longer the innocent kid she had watched grow up, Snow didn't bother to contain her smirk. She watched Henry carefully as she spoke.
"Emma seems really committed to looking after Regina."
Henry's eyes narrowed, and he looked at her with equal scrutiny as he nodded slowly. "They're really close, I guess."
"It seems so." Neither blinked.
Suddenly realising it was probably too early to be going head-to-head with her grandson with regard to scheming, Snow forced her default jollity to the surface. Shuffling the containers, she brushed past him toward the front door. However, unable to let it go completely she threw one final comment over her shoulder.
"Everyone needs a good friend, right?" At Henry's unguarded reaction, she couldn't help but smile more widely. "Have a great day at school, Henry. And don't worry about your moms. They'll both be just fine."
-/-
Finding the lower floor abandoned, Snow quickly ditched her supplies and made her way up the stairs of the mayoral mansion. Having been this far into what she had always deemed enemy territory, only once or twice, she paused for a moment before hearing murmuring coming from an open door down the hallway. Steeling herself, she closed her eyes briefly, before heading in the direction of the noise.
As she peered through the door, she felt an unexpected wave of pride as she took in the sight before her. Emma was perched on the edge of the bed, one hand lightly gripping Regina's, whilst the other held a washcloth, moving it between Regina's brow and her neck as she whispered soft reassurances. Regina, for the most part was still, except for the occasional shiver. She seemed to mumble each time the cloth touched her fevered skin, stopping only as Emma soothed her gently. Her face was unnaturally flushed, and Snow was fairly certain that she would have little idea that Snow was even there.
As Regina seemed to settle for a moment, Emma looked up, genuine relief written across her face, as she beckoned Snow further into the room. As she stood, awkwardly beside her, Emma's expression shifted to one of guilt. As she whispered her focus darted subconsciously between Snow and the woman in her care.
"Mom. Thanks for coming." She paused briefly. "I was gonna call you to say don't bother, but I think her temperature must've gone up again, as she seems even sicker than she did last night. And…"
Emma trailed off and Snow fought the urge to pull she daughter into a hug there and then. Despite public opinion, she did have some boundaries.
Instead, she crouched down beside the bed, placing the back of her hand lightly against Regina's forehead. The heat being emitted was intense and Snow felt more than a flutter of worry. Keeping her voice calm, she smiled at her daughter.
"Why don't we check her temperature, ok? Then we can wake her up to take some medication."
Emma nodded mutely, before pulling herself up gently from the edge of the bed, repositioning herself on the empty side of the luxurious queen size. Propped against the wall was a pile of pillows that the blonde quickly made herself comfortable against, and Snow couldn't help but note that they looked like they had been arranged there for some time. Oblivious to the observations of her mother, she went quickly back to smoothing stray hair from Regina's face, whilst looking helplessly at Snow.
Back somewhat in her comfort zone, Snow smiled, digging around in her purse until she pulled out a thermometer. Okay, so it was a kid's one, with an elephant and a train decorating it, but Regina was out of it, and never had to know, and she had to work with what she had. Attempting, and failing, not to take pride in the look of gratitude being thrown her way by her impressed daughter, Snow took the device, placing it gently in Regina's ear. Regina mumbled, stirring restlessly, and Snow watched as Emma automatically reached for her. The device beeped.
Carefully removing the thermometer, Snow looked at once, then again, hoping her expression didn't give away the fact that Regina's temperature was way too high, and if they couldn't get it down, she would have to be the bearer of bad news to Emma that they did in fact need a doctor. Instead, she smiled kindly, addressing her daughter quietly.
"Why don't we wake her up, ok, so she can take some medicine to bring her temperature down."
For some reason, Emma seemed strangely mute, so Snow took it upon herself, calling the other woman's name, softly.
"Regina." No response. "Regina." Again nothing. Snow could feel her own anxiety rising. "Regina, it's me, Snow." Still nothing. Just as she could feel Emma's panic starting to emerge, there was a small murmur from Regina. Not sure what else to do, Snow took gentle hold of the arm sticking out toward her, squeezing the fingers and letting her own hand trail softly up and down. "I know you want to sleep but can you try and open your eyes for a minute."
Regina sighed, one eye opening blearily for a second. Snow was so relieved, she kept hold of the hand still lying in hers. "Hey there. I know you're not feeling too good right now, and I'm sorry about that, but remember when I was a little girl and you let me take care of you that time you got sick, well I need you to let me do that right now ok, so it would be really great if you could just open your eyes for me a little."
Regina blinked heavily, her eyes focusing briefly on Snow before her gaze found Emma's.
"Hey." Although addressing Regina's, Emma's eyes met Snow's gratefully for a moment. "Geez, you had us worried there for a minute."
Regina seemed confused, staring dazedly at Emma. Trying to get a gauge of her alertness, Snow tried again. "How are you feeling?"
The older woman again looked confused. Before Snow could continue, she bit back a smile as Emma once again took up the role of saviour, or more appropriately, comforter, as she ran a hand up and down Regina's arm speaking softly.
"Does your head hurt?" Regina nodded wearily. "Cold?" Another nod. "Generally feel like complete crap?" This at least earned an eyebrow raise.
Emma's hand seemed permanently attached to Regina.
"Yeah well it looks like you've managed to get yourself a pretty nasty case of flu and you have quite a fever going on here which would pretty much explain all of that."
As Regina shivered, Emma turned back to Snow with the now familiar expression of worry. Snow held in an eye roll and instead motioned to Emma that she should help Regina upright. Obeying, Emma's attention switched back, her tone gentler still.
"Come on, let's sit you up for a minute."
Snow watched, now mildly amused, as the pliable former Evil Queen let the Saviour lift her into a seated position, supporting her there. Rummaging in her bag once more, Snow produced a bottle of painkillers, struggling only briefly with the childproof cap, before placing two of the pills in Regina's hand. With only a nod from Emma, the older woman popped the pills in her mouth. Realising her daughter was not going to release her grip anytime soon, Snow had no choice but to grab the glass of water on the bedside table, feeding a mouthful hesitantly to Regina.
As Snow turned away to replace the water, she caught Emma, out of the corner of her eye gracing Regina's hairline with a gentle kiss as the woman nestled against her. Swallowing back a snigger, Snow took a moment longer than necessary positioning the glass, turning back only when she was happy her face was under control. As she did so, she watched incredulously as Emma carefully shifted both herself and Regina back, so they lay snuggled together, Regina's eyes already drifting closed. No longer seeing the point in disguising her disbelief, Snow shook her head, muttering to no one in particular.
"I'll be in the kitchen."
-/-
Glancing at her watch, Snow cast a look up the stairs. Henry had returned from school several hours earlier and, after being used for a food run to Granny's, had disappeared to his room in the guise of homework. Snow's own day had been spent reading magazines and watching daytime TV, interspersed with the occasional check on Emma, and Regina whose temperature had continued to fluctuate. And whilst she had enjoyed the child free, well apart from her adult child, day, she was starting to feel just a little guilty for abandoning Neal to her husband.
Her reverie was broken by the sound of Henry stomping around above and resolving to simply say good night and head home, she set off up the stairs. Cracking open the door to bid her daughter good night, she was instead greeted by the sight of a restless Regina, drenched in sweat and fighting an invisible enemy in her sleep. The snoring being emitted from the other side of the bed told her that Emma would be no use. Without thinking, Snow slipped into the room, pulling up the chair to the side of the bed and gently running her hand up and down Regina's arm, and over her hair, coaxing her out of the grip of her dream. It took several seconds but as Regina opened her eyes, the fear in them made Snow's heart lurch in a way she couldn't explain, and she quickly withdrew the contact. As recognition drifted back and Regina's eyes settled on Snow, the relief in her expression was unguarded as she blinked back tears. Snow once again found herself reaching for her former stepmother's hand squeezing gently. When Regina's eyes drifted closed once more, Snow reached over, carefully placing the back of her other hand against a damp forehead.
"Hey. I think your fever's broken."
Forcing her eyes open, Regina seemed to notice the presence of Emma next to her for the first time and looked at Snow with an expression of panic. Biting back yet another smirk, Snow nodded.
"Don't worry, Emma's fine. That girl can sleep through anything. She just wanted you to get some rest." She sat back in the chair making herself comfortable. "How are you feeling?"
Regina paused. For a moment Snow thought she would attempt to lie, but instead she sighed. "Abysmal, dear."
Snow felt her sympathy welling up again.
"I hear the flu can do that to you. Emma's been keeping an eye on you, but she didn't want you to be on your own if you needed anything when you woke up." She found herself watching carefully for Regina's reaction. "She knew you'd be feeling, pretty 'shitty'," she smiled self-consciously, "her words, obviously, when you woke up and she didn't want to risk you not being able to get back to sleep right away. So here we are."
When she took a breath, Regina was looking at her oddly, although thankfully, not murderously.
"And tell me Snow, how come you are here?"
Feeling for once like she may have the upper hand, Snow simply smiled. "Because it takes a lot to make my extremely independent daughter panic enough to make her believe she needs her parents." For a second, she let her guard slip at the thought, but recovered, she hoped, quickly. "However, this was one of those rare occasions where something, or someone made her worry enough to do that, and I would be even more of an idiot than you think I am, to not show up."
Regina's eyes were closing again, and she seemed to be having difficulty focussing. Realising that, for today at least, she was no real sparring partner, Snow felt her sympathy once again take over. Reaching over, she placed her hand back on the older woman's forehead, noting that it again felt uncomfortably warm.
"Hey. Stay with me for a minute ok. Your fever might have broken but your temperature's still up and down, and I'm guessing you'd feel better to get some dry clothes on." For some reason, Regina again looked panic stricken, and Snow found herself reaching for her hand. "I just want you to feel better, ok?"
Realising that this was not a job she wished to attempt alone, she shuffled over, prodding her daughter more aggressively than was possibly required. With a snigger she watched as Emma jerked up, her first reaction to pull Regina closer, waving blindly until she located her face.
"Hey. I'm awake. What's wrong? Are you ok?"
Attempting a slightly unconvincing cough, Snow moved, patting her daughter's leg reassuringly.
"Emma, it's fine. Regina's awake and her fever's down a little, but we agreed that she'd feel better if she could change out of her damp clothes."
Her daughter, however, still seemed to be holding Regina in some sort of death grip, as she shifted, concentrating only on Regina.
"Hey, you. It's good to see you awake."
At the smile that this earned from the other woman, Snow could only roll her eyes, missing the quiet exchange that passed between them, noting only that Emma's grip tightened further as a consequence.
Lacking the stomach for anything more, Snow cleared her throat. She knew she was smirking, but she didn't really care.
"Emma, why don't you help Regina to sit up, ok?"
Purposefully turning away, Snow busied herself with checking her messages, of which she had several, mounting in hostility from her husband. Saving that problem for later, she switched focus to locating some clean clothes for Regina. Several drawers later, she grabbed an oversized shirt, which looked more like something Emma would wear. Shrugging, she decided it would do. When she turned back around, Regina was still prone, looking sorrier for herself than Snow could ever recall seeing her, as Emma stood awkwardly beside her. Rolling her eyes, she fixed a stare at her daughter, before shaking her head.
"Emma, honey. Why don't you go grab me some clean washcloths, ok, sweetie? I'll take care of the rest."
As her daughter shuffled off to the bathroom, Snow turned her attention to Regina, holding up the clothing. The other woman was looking at her blankly. Not without frustration, Snow motioned for her to remove her top and replace it with the proffered shirt. When there was still no reaction, she sighed heavily, staring pointedly at the bathroom before looking back at Regina. Keeping her voice low, after all there was no need to embarrass her daughter as well as Regina, not today anyway, she smiled cockily.
"Get changed ok. I thought, all things considered, if anyone was going to see you naked in this state, it should probably be me." Her lips quirked further. "And as inappropriate as this may be, you can thank me later."
Still staring at her, Regina took the shirt, clumsily changing into it. As Emma emerged from the bathroom, all that was left to see was the confused face of Regina gaping at Snow, whose expression was now fixed in a perpetual smirk as she slipped out of the door.
"I'm going to check on Henry, so I'll leave you two to it, ok?"
Closing the door behind, her, Snow allowed herself a quick chuckle before heading to her grandson's room and knocking quietly. As she stuck her head inside, there was evidence of homework scattered around the room, and the lack of functioning parent for a few days was evident in the piles of washing that had mounted up. Happy to leave that for his moms to deal with, she smiled at Henry who nodded in response.
"What's up, grams? How's mom?"
Considering her response for a moment, Snow smiled a little too innocently. Her grandson really wasn't an idiot.
"I'm sure she'll be feeling much better in a couple of days, don't worry, Henry." She no longer bothered to control her expression. "I'm sure Emma will continue to take really good care of her."
She smiled genuinely at the teenager. "Anyway, I just wanted to say goodbye before I head home for the night. I'm sure your moms have had enough of me hanging around, so I thought I'd give them some alone time." Her grandson was watching her carefully. "Anyway, good night, Henry."
Making her way down the stairs and out of the front door, suddenly the thought of an irate husband and screaming baby didn't seem all that bad.
Thursday
By the time Snow finally arrived at Regina's yard door, she could barely remember why she'd offered to stop to by. Neal had been awake, and crying, pretty much all night. Meanwhile, her husband, seemingly still holding a grudge over her bailing on 'mommy and me' the previous day, despite it being for a totally valid reason to do with their daughter's happiness, had stormed out of the house at dawn after apparently giving up on the pretence that anyone in the house was going to get any sleep that night. To top it all off, Ruby had just called wondering if Snow happened to have her son's favourite pacifier anywhere as she couldn't find it at the loft. The slightly desperate plea in her voice led Snow to believe that, best friend or not, if she wanted the childcare arrangement to last beyond the morning, she better locate it, and fast. Her train of thought spiralling, she looked up to find herself standing in Regina's kitchen with her daughter and grandson both staring at her strangely.
"Sorry I'm late, Emma." Feeling like she was missing something, she smiled at her grandson. "Good morning, Henry."
Snow watched, her sense of impending doom growing as Emma sighed deeply. "No problem. Thanks for coming over again." Her daughter snatched a dish cloth from the side and Snow wondered what crime the coffee mug on its receiving end had committed. "I wasn't gonna go in today until dad called last night." Emma looked at her for a moment and Snow attempted to keep her face neutral at the mention of her husband. "He just kept rambling about not having time to get his paperwork done." It was her daughter's turn to look confused. "And nursery rhymes." Snow winced and looked at the floor for a moment, hoping Emma would move on quickly. "Anyway, he sounded kinda mad, so I should probably get moving."
Feeling the need to change the subject, Snow smiled, her brain beginning to run down a mental list of all the places she could have put the pacifier. "So, how is the patient this morning?" Forcing her attention back to her daughter, she watched as Emma let out a yawn.
"She didn't sleep great. So, she didn't give me much sleep either."
Unable to contain a smirk, though thankfully the snigger stayed buried, Snow raised an eyebrow in Emma's direction, noting with interest that her grandson had also reacted to the comment. Concentrating on keeping her smile neutral, she continued to focus on her daughter.
"It sounds like you've been taking really good care of her." She paused, wondering idly at what point Emma would at least question this ridiculous charade. "She's lucky to have a friend like you."
Apparently, they were not at that point.
"I'd do the same for anyone." Her daughter's eyes shifted so that they were on anything but her. "Anyway, I've got some sheriff-ing to do, so I'm looking forward to getting out of this house for a few hours."
Snow could feel the smirk beginning to break through once more. Clamping her jaw, she could muster only a murmur, as Emma stared longingly in the direction of the staircase. Unable to contain herself for much longer, she turned to place her bag on the table, distracting herself with a physical search for the damn pacifier.
"Of course, sweetheart. Now, why don't you go check on Regina before you head off. Just in case."
At the sound of her daughter practically skidding out into the hallway, Snow decided it was safe to turn her attention to her grandson.
"Henry."
Knowing there was only a limited window of opportunity to ascertain the information she was seeking, Snow focussed.
"So, your moms seem to be getting on well, huh?" Henry was wearing a slight rabbit in headlights expression and Snow was grateful that delicacy had never been her strong suit. "They really are so close these days, aren't they?"
Her interest again picked up as her grandson seemed to recover, levelling her with a stare again that recollected his adopted mom. "They are."
Listening to herself, but somehow unable to stop, Snow took a step toward Henry. "They care a lot for each other." She watched his reaction closely. "Everyone should be as lucky to have a true friend like that, shouldn't they?"
Henry continued to meet her gaze, smirking casually back at her. "Maybe one day, they'll realise how lucky they are."
Suddenly appreciating that she was having this conversation with her teenage grandchild, Snow felt a fleeting moment of shame pass through her and nodded briskly.
"Well, you have a good day at school, Henry."
Before she could say anything that she might really regret later, Snow turned her attention back to her purse and the pacifier search mission, as the back door swung closed. However, just as she was fishing a stuffed dinosaur, half impaled on what looked like a stake, but was more likely an old nail file, out of the bottom of the bag, her peace was interrupted as her daughter reappeared beside her.
Looking up, Snow finally took the time to look at her properly, taking in the smudges of tiredness under her eyes and the apprehension written all over her face. Hit by a wave of empathy, Snow reached out, briefly taking her daughter's hand. To her somewhat amazement, Emma let her, before looking at the door and sighing deeply.
"Go on, then. Don't keep your father waiting." Getting away with giving her hand one last squeeze, Snow smiled reassuringly. "Emma, she'll be fine for a couple of hours. I'll keep an eye on her, ok?"
With a curt nod, her daughter hoisted her belt and marched purposefully toward the door. If she gave one final look towards the stairs, Snow was kind enough to ignore it, instead taking in the sudden wonderous silence and letting her attention fall once again to the table.
-/-
Hauling herself up from the surprisingly comfortable couch in Regina's den, Snow checked the time. Indulging herself again in the day-time TV that had long since been replaced by cartoons in her own household, the time had passed disconcertingly quickly. Her foray back into world of The View had been interrupted only by her frequent checks on the woman whose care her daughter had entrusted to her. But, to her relief, Regina appeared to have barely stirred for the last two hours, getting more of the rest she undoubtedly needed.
Looking at her watch once again, Snow headed cautiously up the stairs, if she was honest with herself, still feeling slightly freaked out about essentially having the unsupervised run of Regina's house. Despite the recent development in their relationship, she found herself habitually looking around for any magical booby traps, that she felt sure her former enemy would still plant, given the chance – or at the very least, cameras. Walking past the open door to her grandson's room, she took a deep breath, as she approached her destination.
Peering cautiously into the room, the sunlight filtering through the closed blinds revealed that for the first time that day, Regina appeared to be awake. Even from a distance, she could see the pallor of the other woman's skin and the fatigue in her movements as she rolled over to face her.
"Emma?"
Hearing the strained query, Snow pushed aside any lingering discomfort, quickly crossing the room and perching on the chair. Shaking her head, slowly, she fought the urge to reach across and rest her hand on Regina's arm which was hanging limply out of the thin sheet draped across her. However, after her recent success with her less-than-tactile daughter, something told her not to push her luck twice in one day. Instead she settled on leaning forward and keeping her voice low.
"David needed some help at the station, so she's dropping in for a couple of hours to get some paperwork done. I've made her a list for the pharmacy and the store of some things that you'll need, and she should be back in time for lunch."
Regina blinked a couple of times, before croaking out a breath. "She should be working."
Experiencing a strange rush of protectiveness, Snow reached for the glass of water waiting on the dresser next to her. Noting, with some amusement, the kids straw floating precariously in it, she pinned her best mom-look on Regina, who for once gave in with barely a fight. After a few sips, she seemed to have been sapped of any further energy and sank back onto the pillow. Wanting to at least do the other woman the courtesy of ignoring her current state of weakness, Snow busied herself replacing the cup before continuing with the conversation.
"Don't worry, David's been covering. No-one's slacking off because the mayor is temporarily out of commission."
"That's not what…"
Feeling herself finally relax, Snow couldn't hide her smile. "I know, ok. As hard as this may be to believe, I'm teasing you."
Snow watched, her heart again reaching out in empathy, as Regina visibly fought her evident exhaustion.
"But she shouldn't… David shouldn't…. you shouldn't."
This time unable to stop herself, Snow reached out taking the hand in front of her and squeezing it gently.
"Look, Regina. I know you don't always think that much of our family…"
She paused, the image from the previous day of the former evil queen cuddling up to her sleeping daughter flashing before her eyes, and vainly hoped it hadn't shown on her face.
"Well, David and I at least."
She stopped again, marvelling for a moment at the genuine affection and the earnest sentiment that she suddenly felt the need to convey.
"And again, believe it or not, I do have some insight into events of the past, and I know I am not without blame in that. But as far as all of us are concerned, you are part of our family." Regina was watching her closely. "In more ways than I think you probably know yourself yet." Snow smiled gently, making sure to meet her eyes. "Which means that on the occasions… the very rare occasions… that you need help, we will be there for you. And not because we have some kind of honourable, Charming duty, but because we care about you and just want to."
Tamping down an unexpected wave of emotion, Snow forced herself to lighten the mood, clearing her throat and raising an eyebrow. "So, if that means that David has to work a couple of extra shifts, and enlist a werewolf to babysit our son, and I have to spend an hour cleaning the mayor's office, well then that's what we do."
At the sudden look of horror on Regina's face, Snow couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped.
"I picked up the bug for Emma yesterday and I had to go into your office to find the keys, so I did a spot of cleaning whilst I was there." Feeling slightly guilty that the trauma on Regina's face, she pressed her hand more firmly, although she couldn't quite shift her own grin. "Regina, it's fine." She paused again, squeezing the hand in hers. "And don't tell me you don't get a tiny kick from the image of me on my hands and knees scrubbing vomit out of your carpet."
Regina was looking at her through glassy eyes, and for a truly awful moment, Snow thought the former queen might actually start to cry.
"Snow… I…."
Torn over offering further comfort, which Snow reckoned could turn out one of two ways, neither of them favourable to her, and self-preservation, Snow kept hold of Regina's hand for a moment, weighing up her options. Deciding, she really did not wish to face the wrath of Regina for pushing her luck, or the wrath of her daughter who could arrive home at any minute to find an upset Regina, she instead sighed.
"It's ok, Regina. You're pretty sick right now, and you're not yourself, and it may again be hard for you to believe, but I refuse to take advantage of that and force you into a conversation that you will later regret. So, I'm just going to go and get you a fresh glass of water and some pills to help control your temperature, and after you've taken them, I can either sit in here with you until you fall asleep, or I can leave you to rest on the understanding that I will be checking on you, or else face the wrath of my daughter."
Finding again, that she meant every word, Snow smiled, releasing Regina's hand and subconsciously reaching down to smooth the hair from her still too clammy brow. "In either case, it is your choice, and I will do as you wish."
At the heat emanating from the other woman, Snow was grateful to find a purpose, rising from her seat and going hurriedly on the hunt for where Regina stashed her meds. After a slightly haphazard search of the bathroom cabinet, she returned to see tired eyes watching her dazedly. Her concern growing, Snow waved the bottle in Regina's direction apologetically. Unsure whether to help, Snow busied herself with opening the cap and dispensing a couple of pills as Regina undertook the worryingly arduous task of getting herself upright. As she closed her eyes, swaying unsteadily, Snow wasted no time in handing her the tablets and holding out the glass of water for Regina to take a sip. That she again put up no protest, made Snow's heart again go out to the woman, as she found herself supporting her gently back into a prone position before tucking the covers back around her. Regina mumbled something softly. Concern peaking, Snow again reached out resting the back of her hand against Regina's forehead. It was hot to the touch.
Attempting to hide her growing worry, she leaned down, speaking softly.
"I'm afraid you're still too warm. The Tylenol should help but Emma's going to pick up some more flu meds on her way home, um, here which should also help with the aching and your head."
Regina let out an uncharacteristic grunt and without thinking Snow dropped down onto the bed beside her, once again taking her hand. "I'm afraid we can't do very much about how bad you must be feeling other than make sure you get plenty of rest and keep you hydrated."
She paused for a moment, fleetingly wondering just how much she would end up paying for her actions when Regina was back to full strength but asking anyway. "How's your stomach feeling now?" At the lack of response, Snow hesitated, at least having the insight to recognise there was a boundary, she thought with a flash of pride, before she trampled all over it. "It's ok, I get it. Well, if you think you're going to…" She grimaced. "Just um, yell or…. Unless you want me to…"
Unable to stop herself, Snow's free hand again settled on Regina's forehead, the contrast in temperature stark under her cold fingers. Leaving her hand there for a moment in the vain hope it would offer some relief, Snow watched as Regina's eyes drifted closed.
It was only when she began to rise from her position that she noticed the solid grip on her hand, anchoring her in place.
-/-
Having extracted herself from the sleeping woman's grasp but listening to the overwhelming instinct that she should stay close, Snow looked up from the composition of her third text message to David, the first two irritatingly unanswered, to see the figure in the bed in front of her stirring restlessly.
"Regina?"
At the intrusion, Regina's eyes opened slowly, before staring blankly around the room, her breathing rapid.
Now genuinely alarmed, Snow moved toward her, only for Regina to lurch up from the bed with greater energy than she had displayed in days, hoisting herself up into a sitting position against the headboard.
"Regina?"
"No." The word was clear, but the genuine terror in her voice halted Snow in her tracks.
Her gut twisting inexplicably, Snow again tried to move, only for Regina to pull her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. "Stop it."
Swallowing tightly, her heart constricting unpleasantly in her chest, Snow did the kindest thing she could think of, slipping from the room and pulling out her cell.
"Emma? No need to worry, honey. But I think you need to come back."
-/-
Heaving a sigh of relief, Snow heard the unmistakeable sound of a door crashing open and her daughter's pounding footsteps on the stairs. The ten minutes since she'd made the call had felt like hours, as from a discreet distance she'd watched a clearly fevered Regina fighting an invisible, if not entirely unrecognisable enemy. Snow's own anxiety was such that she barely entertained the realisation that her magic powered daughter, in her own panic had clearly forgotten she had faster modes of transportation available to her than car. However, all things considered, given the circumstances, driving was probably the safest option for all involved.
As a final panicked breath signalled Emma's arrival, Snow schooled her features into what she hoped was her best elementary teacher expression, turning her daughter to face her. Taking in her daughter's worried frown, she gestured into the room so that Emma could see the sight she had very briefly explained over the phone, of a shivering Regina cowering, her head buried beneath her arms, in the corner of the bed.
Seeing her daughter visibly relax at the sight of the other woman, Snow smiled before promptly shoving the bowl of water and flannel she was holding into Emma's hands, and ushering her into the room. Her daughter looked at her nervously and Snow nodded reassuringly.
"She'll be ok Emma." This time the look in her direction was one of dubiousness but she continued. "We just need to get her temperature down, but I think the fever's making her a little delusional, and she wouldn't let me near her to help."
Emma was now hovering by the doorway, biting her lip, as her eyes remained glued to the shaking figure in front of her.
"And what makes you think she'll be any different with me?"
Silently shaking her head, Snow's only response was to gently propel her daughter forward. Understanding the need to give the pair privacy, she reluctantly retreated to the hall and waited.
-/-
"Mom?"
The quiet call from the bedroom dragged Snow from her thoughts – a number of which had been about her daughter. Gingerly pushing the door fully open, she peered through to see Emma, kneeling on the bed, a silent but still shivering Regina slumped against her.
As she slid into the room, Emma glanced up long enough to indicate the bowl of water, now abandoned on the floor. Keeping her voice low, she turned slightly so she could see Snow more clearly, her grip on Regina never faltering.
"Is there any chance you could get me some more cold water?" She shrugged apologetically. "She feels a bit cooler, but I figured it couldn't hurt."
Before Snow could reply, Regina made a slight noise and Emma turned back to her, pulling her closer. As Snow left the room, she could hear only the faint whispers of her daughter in the silent house.
Her task completed, Snow slipped back into the room, depositing the refreshed water bowl back on the floor and squeezing her daughter's shoulder as she passed.
"I'll leave you to it."
The slight nod of her head was the only sign that Emma even heard her as she continued to hold Regina, murmuring softly against her ear.
Stepping back, Snow took a moment to observe the scene in front of her, as her former nemesis allowed herself to be cradled in her daughter's arms, the world outside of them ceasing to exist.
Pulling the door closed behind her, she suddenly had the overwhelming urge to find her husband and remind them both of how lucky they too were.
Friday
The text message from Emma, asking her to collect Henry from school had been a surprise, if not totally unexpected. Having spent much of the day after David had left for work, thankfully on better terms than the previous morning, thinking about her daughter's situation, and what she should do, or not do, it came of somewhat of a relief to be around probably the only other person she could talk to about this. However, as Henry slid into the truck beside her, her mind again flashed to the events of the previous day and for possibly the first time, she had the sudden epiphany that this was not her situation to fix. Shifting the truck into gear, she instead pulled out and headed in the direction of Mifflin Street.
As she pulled up outside the house, she was jolted from her thoughts as Henry shuffled beside her to open the door. Seeing, possibly also for the first time, the amount of her, that had somehow passed by her daughter but hit her grandson face on, she felt her hand reach out, coming to rest on his arm.
At the action, Henry turned to her curiously.
"Is everything ok?"
Hoping to assuage the worry she could hear in his voice, she smiled "Of course, Henry."
Now that she had an audience, Snow realised she had no idea what she really wanted to say and found herself looking her grandson up and down as if she could somehow find the answer in him. Coming to the stark conclusion that she had to find some genuine words of wisdom, more than a simple hope speech could provide, she again let the image of the two women from the previous day settle in her mind.
"Don't give them a hard time, ok?"
Henry continued to watch her. Snow smiled, searching for the words that she hoped the teenager would understand.
"Your moms, they…" She paused. "When you've never truly experienced something…" She stopped, thinking for a moment of, despite her reputation, how much better both Emma and Regina were, in their own ways, at explaining the things that matter. Taking a breath, she continued. "It can be hard to recognise it when it's right in front of you." Realising the absurdity of where this was going, she laughed quietly. "And I know you're old enough to appreciate the irony of this coming from me, but it's not your story to tell, ok?"
Her piece said, deciding it best not to give Henry chance to respond, or ask one of the millions of questions that were surely swirling around his brain that she would probably be unable or unwilling to answer, she smiled brightly, hopping out of the truck and fleeing for the relative safety of the house. By the time Henry caught up with her, she'd had time to find the key that Regina had given her 'in case of an apocalypse' several months earlier and let herself in the front door. Quietly making her way across the hallway, she came to a stop outside the living room, smiling softly at the sight that again met her. Signalling for Henry, who had now skidded into the house coming to an abrupt stop behind her, to be silent, she couldn't contain her emotion at the tableau before them.
Sprawled across the sofa was Regina, her head using the lap of a sleeping Emma as a pillow, both looking more at peace than Snow could recall for either of them.
As Henry turned to look at her, his grin was contagious, and she knew her expression mirrored his. With no words needed between them, she shrugged, reaching for his shoulder to guide him away. Before they left, she turned back to the room, muttering to herself before softly closing the door and following her grandson down the hall.
/End of part two