A/N: Happy Sunday!
By the time she left the clinic, the suburban sidewalk was quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of the street lamps. It was almost seven in the evening. Emma's stomach grumbled. She wasn't used to meeting Archie so late and her body was letting her know she was behind schedule when it came to food. Her standing appointment with her therapist was on the first Monday of each month at ten in the morning. But the man was always available for emergency sessions if required.
It was increasingly rare for Emma to need to see Archie in addition to their monthly sessions but it happened. The triggers were never work related but to do with her family, friends or some other social interaction. Except this week. Regina Mills' presence had prompted Emma to dial her therapist as she walked back to work from her apartment that morning. Was Regina considered work or social? The confused position the brunette held in her life had thrown Emma. How was she supposed to deal with Regina?
After the initial shock of seeing her, the outburst of anger and pent up emotions hit hard. Then after that uncontrolled explosion, plus the throwing of various breakables (I must replace that photo frame, she mused), came the sadness. Pain of memories long since buried, abruptly dragged to the surface, raw and vivid. And then, as she regained control of herself, something else changed when she thought about the circumstances under which they had met. Regina had come to Swan's Shelter. Regina had been in danger. Regina was looking for somewhere safe. Regina needed Emma to keep her safe.
As she climbed into her car, Emma knew exactly how she had to deal with the newest arrival at her shelter. The past was in the past. Yes, she would address it in therapy with Archie who had suggested she increase her appointments to weekly for a while. But aside from that hour in the clinic, Emma's approach to Regina was solely professional. She would provide her with a safe place to stay, help her work through whatever it was which brought her to New York and get her started on building a new life for herself and her son.
Turning on the stereo before she pulled away from the curb, her cell phone connected via Bluetooth and she selected her 'car' playlist. Turning the volume to number fifteen, Emma set off. The streets were busy with Friday evening traffic, people pouring out of Manhattan and heading north. Emma drove in the opposite direction, on autopilot as she navigated her way, mind churning over everything she and Archie had talked about. It wasn't until she scanned her pass and entered the underground garage that she jolted back to the present.
Looking around as she pulled into her space, she saw an unfamiliar car at the far side of the parking lot. Ruby had said she arrived by car. Getting out, Emma pointed the key and locked it. Then she unlocked it. Then she locked it again. As she passed the new vehicle, the Maine plates confirmed who the owner was.
"Hey, what are you doing back here?" Ella asked as she saw her boss reappear.
"Um, not sure, to be honest," Emma admitted as she looked around the empty reception area of Swan's Shelter. "Anything to report?"
"Nothing," Ella replied. "Super quiet. A few of the women have gone out for dinner to celebrate Bonnie getting a job."
"Oh, she got the waitressing gig?" Emma asked.
One of the most important steps the women at the shelter went through was securing employment. Earning a living and being self-sufficient allowed the women to move on from the shelter and start their new life. For many women, this was the first time in years they had earned their own money, financial control being one of the most common ways in which abusive partners dominated women and restricted their freedom. Swan's Shelter helped the women put together their resumes, apply for jobs and prepare for the interviews.
"Yeah, her trial shift today went really well. She starts on Monday. Wages aren't great but the tips there are apparently good. I said we'd go for lunch one day and see her in action."
"For sure," Emma nodded. She loved seeing the women at their new places of work, even if it meant she had to deal with eating in an unfamiliar restaurant or diner. Often, the women were unrecognisable when compared to the person who had walked into the shelter however many weeks or months before. It filled Emma's heart with happiness. "I've just got to speak with someone. If Ursula arrives to relieve you before I'm done, enjoy your evening and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Thanks," Ella smiled. "You too. Don't work too hard; you deserve a break too."
Emma laughed. She never didn't work too hard. She loved her job. In fact, she didn't even see it as work. Her staff couldn't understand why Emma always insisted on working both the Saturday and Sunday shifts, although they were grateful. The blonde had five scheduled weekly twelve-hour shifts, compared to the rest of her team who each pulled four shifts only. But Emma didn't mind the extra work. She often came in on her days off as well and covered shortfalls whenever she needed to.
Punching in the code, Emma let herself into the back end of the shelter. It was quiet; the distant sound of muffled voices coming from the communal area at the far end of the corridor. Making her way to the open door, a quick scan of the space told Emma the woman she was looking for wasn't there. She smiled and waved at the few shelter guests who caught her eye before turning and heading towards room 108.
"But I don't get it," Henry pouted. "Why can't Dad join us tomorrow?"
Regina readjusted herself on her son's bed. She was lying on her side, facing him. They had finished reading a story and the question she had been dreading had finally been asked. She and Belle had had a brief discussion about how Regina should talk with Henry about their situation but she still felt unprepared.
"It's just going to be you and me for a bit," Regina said, brushing her son's floppy hair off his forehead.
"And then Dad will come to get us?"
"No," Regina said quietly, finally confessing to her son that his father would not be in his life any time soon, or ever, if she had anything to do with it. "Your dad won't be coming to get us. He's going to stay in Maine and we're going to stay in New York."
"Why?"
Would it be easier if he was older? If he was of a maturity age which could handle the brutal truth? Perhaps, Regina mused. But he wasn't. The boy couldn't and shouldn't be told about what had occurred between his mother and father for the whole of his life. Regina just thanked her lucky stars that Henry had never witnessed any of the violence. Well, there was that one time he had woken to Leo screaming at Regina, coming downstairs to find the brunette cowered in the corner of the living room. But he had been four at the time; he wouldn't remember that.
"I've decided that I don't want to live with your dad any more," Regina replied.
"Why?"
"Because I wasn't happy."
"Why?"
"Lots of reasons, grown up reasons," Regina offered, knowing even as she spoke that the vague answer wasn't going to be enough for the confused and inquisitive young boy.
"What reasons?"
Regina sighed, unsure what more she could say. But before she could formulate a reply, there came a knock at the door. Her body stiffened automatically. She knew she was safe. She knew it wasn't going to be her husband. Yet the reaction was unbidden; instinctive. Rolling over, she climbed off the bed, handed Henry his iPad and crossed the small room. There was no peep hole, she noticed. An oversight. Turning the handle, she opened the door a crack.
"Emma, hi," Regina said as she took in the woman standing in the corridor.
"Hey," the blonde said, hands stuffed awkwardly into the pockets of her black slacks. "Um, I'm just checking in to see how today went."
"I thought you'd left. Ella said you'd gone when I came to see you earlier."
"You came to see me?"
Regina felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "I just wanted to let you know the session with Belle went well."
"Good, I'm glad to hear that."
"So, you came back?"
"Yeah, I did. I … well, I wanted to find out how your session went."
"It went well. Thanks."
There was a pause, neither woman knowing what to say next. Emma shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Regina chewed her lip.
"I was just talking to Henry about why we're here."
"Oh, right. How's that going?" Emma asked. Helping mothers explain to their children what was happening was something the blonde had done countless times. It never got easier but she knew her presence assisted the mother when trying to make children of any age understand.
"The word 'why' has been used a lot," Regina said, exhaustion suddenly claiming her as she leaned heavily against the door frame. "I don't know what else to say," she added, lowering her voice to a whisper, acutely aware that her son was just a few feet away. "I told him I didn't want to live with his dad any more because I wasn't happy. But I can't explain why."
Emma didn't need Regina to offer her any more details. After the revelation that the brunette was suffering from an injury to her ribcage, Emma had assumed that the woman was running from a domestic violence situation. She had also noticed an old scar across Regina's plump lip which the brunette hadn't had when they were at high school. But the specifics weren't important when it came to explaining to a child Henry's age. "Want some help?"
Regina hesitated for a moment before nodding and opening the door wider. Emma smiled reassuringly as she stepped into the room.
"Hi Emma!" Henry exclaimed, sitting up in bed as he saw who had come to visit them, iPad cast aside.
"Hey kid, how's it going?"
"Mom said we're staying here. But she said Dad can't come too."
"Yeah, that's right," Emma nodded, glancing at Regina for permission before sitting on the edge of the boy's bed. "You and your mom are going to live here for a bit."
"Why?"
Emma glanced at Regina and winked. There was that word again.
"Because this is the place which your mom thinks is best for you both right now," Emma offered.
"Why?"
"Well," Emma began, "sometimes moms and dads decide that they will both be happier if they don't live together any more. And as well as your mom and dad being happier, you'll be happier too. Your mom thinks that you and she will have a happy life together in New York."
"But what about Dad?"
"We don't need to worry about your dad right now," Emma said, not wanting to lie in any way and tell the boy his father, a faceless monster in Emma's mind who was doubtless out of his mind with myriad emotions after his wife and son had been missing for twenty-four hours, would be happy too.
"Does Dad not love me?" Tears suddenly sparkled in Henry's wide hazel eyes at the thought.
"No, my little prince," Regina said, rushing to the bed and sitting down, wrapping her arms around the small boy and holding him tight. "Your father loves you very much."
"Then why isn't he here? I want Dad!" Henry bawled. "I don't want to be here with you."
The words were like a dagger to Regina's heart. She buried her face in her son's hair, not wanting him to see the pain his words had caused. "Henry, please, this is what's best for you and me, I promise."
"Why didn't Dad come with us?" Henry cried. "Why doesn't Dad love me?"
Emma waited for a moment to see if Regina was going to offer an answer. When she didn't, the counsellor stepped in. "Henry, your dad does love you but your mom has decided that the two of you are going to spend some time down here in New York without him. That doesn't mean your dad doesn't love you but it does mean you won't see him for a while. Instead, you and your mom are going to stay here. I know it's a little bit confusing and new but I promise you New York is really cool. There's a great school a few streets away and on Monday we can get you signed up. You can go to school with Roland. I'm sure you'll make lots more friends there too. And then after a little while, your mom will find the two of you a new apartment and you'll get to decorate your new bedroom."
Red-rimmed eyes peered up at Emma at that last sentence, suddenly distracted from his feelings of abandonment. "I get to choose the colour?"
"Yep," Emma nodded. "What colour do you think you want your bedroom?"
"Orange!" Henry exclaimed, face suddenly illuminated with excitement.
"Orange?" Regina queried, already trying to work out how she could backtrack from Emma's well-meaning but foolish offer to hand creative control to Henry. The six-year-old had no sense of style.
"Yeah, orange walls and a blue floor and a green top bit," he pointed to the ceiling. "And I want a racing car bed. Toby has a racing car bed and is was so cool. Can I get a racing car bed, Mom?"
"We'll see," Regina placated. "But for now, do you think it's time for sleep? It's been a long day. Do you have any more questions?"
Henry shook his head, temporarily distracted from his quest to find out where his father was by the vision of his new vibrant bedroom.
"Ok, well, any time you do have questions about New York or your dad, you can ask me, ok?"
"Ok," Henry agreed.
Regina slid from the bed and helped her son snuggle down beneath the duvet as Emma moved to stand by the door, not wanting to encroach on the tender night-time ritual. "Emma and I are going to be in the room where we ate dinner. Come and find me if you need anything. I'll be back in an hour, ok?"
"Where's Eddie?"
Spotting the elephant laying on Regina's bed, Emma crossed the room to pick up the toy and handed it to the brunette. With a "thanks" to Emma, she turned and tucked the stuffed elephant underneath the duvet. Henry's arm came around to hold it tight. Placing a kiss to her son's forehead, she whispered "I love you" and stood up.
Emma opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, closely followed by Regina after she had dimmed the lights to let her son sleep. Once the door was closed, the brunette let out a deep sigh.
"You ok?" Emma asked.
"No," Regina replied. "Got any vodka?"
"This is an alcohol-free space," Emma replied. "Drugs too."
"Oh yeah, Ruby mentioned that last night."
"It's just a safety thing. Some of the women who come through are addicts and we find the best way to support their sobriety is to have a blanket ban. How about some cocoa instead?"
Regina raised an eyebrow. "Cocoa? I'm not seven."
"Cocoa as an adult is amazing. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Emma grinned.
"Ok," the brunette agreed.
Emma led the way into the communal area. The few women in there were watching a movie on TV. A cluster of children were hunched over an iPad. Screens seemed to be dominating the Friday evening, as usual, Emma mused as she made her way to the small kitchen space.
"Thank you for your help with Henry," Regina said as she slid onto a bar stool.
"You're welcome," Emma replied, igniting the gas ring beneath the kettle she had just filled before reaching for the cocoa powder from one of the cupboards, along with two mugs. "I know it's hard to explain to kids without sharing too much."
"Yeah. I can't tell him the whole truth and I hate lying to him."
"I know how you feel but you don't have a choice. You're doing what's best for him and that's all that matters. In my experience, establishing a routine as soon as possible helps a lot for a child his age. He's not going to stop asking questions but if you can create some sort of new normality, much as I hate that word, he'll feel more secure. His world has been rocked and you need to stabilise it."
Regina nodded her agreement. What Emma was saying made sense. A cloying sense of guilt rose up inside her as she realised she was responsible for her son's sense of uncertainty, for everything he had ever known, other than herself, being ripped away from him.
"Hey," Emma said, leaning across the counter and gently resting her hand over Regina's fidgeting fingers. "This isn't your fault."
Regina, who had jumped at the physical contact, stared down at the pale, thin fingers which covered her own. The nails which had been scratching the skin on the side of her thumb stilled, the tender, exposed flesh throbbing where she had already scraped away the top layers, leaving it red and raw. It was an anxiety tick she'd developed over the years.
"Will he ever forgive me?" she asked, eyes shimmering with sadness. "For tearing him away from his father? His friends? His school? For disrupting his entire life?"
"In time, yes," Emma nodded. "He'll understand eventually. It's not going to be easy and there is going to be an adjustment period for both of you. We're here to help you and Henry work through this. I know your priority is your son -"
"Always. He's everything to me," Regina interrupted, eyes suddenly fiery with passion.
"And it's important he knows that. If you want, on Monday we can go to the local school I mentioned and get him registered. They know me there and there's usually space for new kids so he should be able to start straight away. Once he's set up with his education and routine, you'll have more time to focus on yourself."
Regina nodded. "Yes, ok, that sounds like a good plan. Thank you."
"Any time," Emma smiled, reaching for the whistling kettle and pouring the water into the two mugs which held the cocoa powder.
"I have a question," Regina admitted as she watched Emma stir their drinks.
"Go ahead."
"Belle said you're my primary contact, is that true?"
Emma's hand stilled in its movement. One, two, three, four, five, pause. One, two, three, four, five, pause. "Yes," she said, withdrawing the spoon and dropping it into the sink. "I thought it would be best, for both of us."
"Why?" Regina asked. "I mean, after everything that's happened between us, why would you want to be the person to help me through this? What about Ruby or Ella?"
"Maybe it's selfish, but I think I need to do this," Emma shrugged, reaching back into the cupboard and selecting the final ingredient. "I wouldn't have allocated myself your case if I didn't think I could offer you the best possible support. That said, I do think perhaps part of it is me dealing with my own issues. But if you're not comfortable with this, I'll switch you back to Ruby. Just say the word."
"No," Regina said at once. "No, don't do that. I … I think I'd rather talk to you than a stranger. But, Emma, I need you to know that I really am -"
"Please don't say sorry," Emma interrupted. "Not again. Not now. I'm not that same person any more and I don't think you are either."
"I'm not," Regina replied. "I'm really not."
"Then let's start with a blank slate, at least within these walls. I've still got some things I need to deal with but I'll be doing that outside of work. Here, I'm your counsellor and you are someone I can help. Nothing more, nothing less. Deal?"
"Deal," Regina agreed. "Thank you, Emma."
"You're welcome. Now, do you want cinnamon on your cocoa?" She waggled the small spice pot she was holding questioningly.
"Cinnamon?"
"It's a family thing. My foster mom used to give me cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon whenever I was upset."
The fact that Regina was doubtless the cause of many of those upsets throughout Emma's latter teenage years hung heavy in the air.
"Um, yes, ok, I'll try it. But no whipped cream."
"Ditto," Emma smiled, tapping a sprinkling of the brown powder onto the steaming liquid. "I cut out the cream element when I hit my twenties. Damn metabolism caught up with me."
Unbidden, Regina's eyes roved over the blonde's slim figure. It didn't look to her like the woman had any problem with her metabolism. Raising her gaze to Emma's face, she blushed as she realised she'd been caught staring. But Emma said nothing and just pushed the drink towards the brunette before blowing across the surface of her own. Regina did the same, awkwardness seeping into the space between them once more.
"So, what's your plan for the weekend?" Regina asked.
"Work," Emma replied. "I always work weekends. Actually, I work pretty much every day. I'm supposed to have Tuesdays off and every other Friday but it doesn't usually happen."
"You work hard."
"I love my job," Emma shrugged.
"So, you'll be here tomorrow?"
"Yep," Emma nodded.
"Ok, good. I mean, cool. Whatever, I mean, it's not like I care or anything." Regina hid behind her mug, sipping the still too hot liquid. Emma watched quizzically, confused at the jumbled response.
"So there are various weekend activities going on," Emma explained. "Since the kids are out of school, we provide some onsite entertainment and there is usually a group who go into Manhattan or down to the local park."
"I promised Henry a trip to Central Park," Regina remembered. "Do you think I should go?"
"If you feel ready," Emma nodded. "It might do you good to get out of here for a bit. I know you've only been here for a day but the longer you leave it before venturing out, the harder it can be. Plus, you and Henry aren't from the city, so you don't have to worry about running into anyone you know."
"Like my husband?"
"Exactly," Emma nodded.
"Do you go on the park trips?"
"Not usually," Emma replied. "I have on occasion if there's a special event or some of the women feel a little vulnerable but it depends on who else is working in the centre. There are usually two of us on duty during the day and one at night but I don't like to leave if we're busy or if there's a lot of paperwork."
"So, will you be going tomorrow?"
Despite Emma's challenges when it came to reading social situations, what Regina was asking was crystal clear. "I can, if you'd like me to."
The blush which already stained Regina's cheeks deepened. "Yes, please."
"Ok," Emma replied. "I'll come."
A/N: Wednesday is park day!