A/N: I'm a moron. I posted a placeholder chapter on accident. Sorry!
Standard Disclaimer: These lovely characters ain't mine, I just play with them gently. Please don't sue me. The mistakes are mine, though.
Chapter 33 – The Killer Cure
To complete the potion which will enable Red's curse to be broken takes hours of tedious labor. Regina is so affected by Red's seizure that her hands shake for the first several minutes. Fortunately, the trembling subsides by the time she sets up her equipment and then grounds up the bark Snow had procured into a fine dust using the mortar and pestle she has kept since her apprenticing days. The act of powdering the bark has a remarkably calming effect on her nerves. Brewing potions is an activity she has always had an affinity for and the private apothecarium she installed in the secluded sub-levels of the Dark Palace has become a secondary refuge outside the sanctum sanctorum of the bedchamber she shares with her wife.
Where once she'd neglected her favored pastime in order to concentrate on hunting down Snow White, she has since resumed brewing in earnest. Without that obsession occupying her every waking thought, she found herself with increasingly more free time to kill and a pressing need of a regular outlet for her magic. One does not simply walk away from dark magic even if one wants to. It is very much like a drug to which the body adapts, except instead of needing to ingest a substance to ward off withdrawals, energy needs to be spent lest it build up to excess. Allowing that to happen can cause one of a number of potential maladies such as blistering migraines and debilitating body aches. At worst, death can occur, but that is only possible if a magician of great power stops practicing the arts cold turkey. Which, incidentally, is what would likely happen to her.
The impetus for her refocus on alchemy and herb lore was a sickness that rampaged through the northwestern region of the kingdom about a year after Red came to live at the Dark Palace. Regina had not been moved enough by the plight of her people to personally intervene, though she'd dispatched all of the aid she could to the villages most heavily affected. It was only after her father rode through the area and came down with the debilitating ailment that caused catastrophic fevers, vomiting, and delirium that she acted. At first, she summoned the best physicians in the kingdom to treat him. Despite their best efforts, none could cure the sweet, unassuming man who was the only blood relative she'd ever given a damn about.
With her father on death's door, Red finally suggested that magic should be used to heal him even if he preferred otherwise. Regina was not about to argue. Her father may have hated magic enough to die rather than have it involved in his treatment, but she loved him too much to let his stubbornness overrule rationality. Red's firm agreement in the matter was the proverbial nail in the coffin. So she consulted her tomes for a cure. With Red joining in the search, it took nearly twelve harrowing and stressful hours before they eventually stumbled upon the remedy in an obscure text she'd pilfered from Rumplestiltskin's vast collection of magical grimoires. A day later, her father was up and about, weak but alive, and surprisingly happy for that fact even if they had conspired against his wishes to save him. It was the start of a renewed interest in the apothecary arts that has yet to wane.
Over the next six months, she indulged her reinvigorated passion in experimentation. During that period of frenzied creativity, she developed a revitalizing tincture that became a staple in the army and an incredibly effective fertility potion that was responsible for a spike in births, which in turn resulted in her much more cautiously producing and administering it. While those are just two examples of the specialty products she frequently creates in her laboratory, they are some of her best sellers.
Once per fortnight she ventures into Stahldorf to peddle her potions in the market for a pauper's fee. To avoid panicking her staff and advisers, she makes an excuse of going out for an afternoon ride before sneaking to the apoethecarium to adopt a disguise which will prevent her from being recognized. There, she glamours her face to slightly alter her features and dresses the part of a peasant witch of silvery hair with tattered skirts and a faded blouse. She then leaves the castle through low traffic corridors, her wares neatly arranged in a large basket Red wove by hand just for her, then travels to the market to sell her creations at a little stand she'd commandeered from a vendor of retirement age for a sizable pouch of gold.
No one has discovered her venture as of yet aside from her werewolf wife, who instantly recognized her by smell while in the village and had confronted her about her subterfuge. After explaining what she was doing, Red promised not to tell, which was no great surprise. In fact, she'd heartily encouraged her to continue the side business, arguing that it was a positive outlet for her magic and generally a good thing for her to do for her people.
Of course, there are occasions that her nasty side crops up, causing her to question her motives for such benevolence or whether the people she helps are really worth her precious time. Whenever that happens, Red never fails to purposefully meander through the market, as if she has felt that turmoil and is compelled to relieve it. Which she does with secretive and incredibly proud smiles that warm Regina's insides, dispel her concerns, and serve as encouragement to continue her endeavors. Red's silent assurance is a reminder that it is not wrong to use her magic for ends that would be disapproved of by the two people most responsible for molding her into who she is.
Her mother and Rumple only ever used their powers to further their own self-interests, and it was what they expected of her as well. She was only too happy to listen to their instruction until Red came along and showed her that being good does not necessarily mean being weak and that it is okay to derive pride and satisfaction from helping people for next to no compensation. Without Red's influence, so many people would still be infirm and infertile at best or dead at worst, and that is what she focuses on as she follows the directions on the parchment Ozma provided instructing her how to make the counter-potion to Zelena's nefarious curse.
To begin, she prepares a solution of poppyseed oil and gypsum, a mixture which will promote absorption into the patient's body – which is accomplished by the poppyseed – and fight the fever that is ravaging her body – and thus the gypsum. She then heats the mixture and stirs it thoroughly to promote integration. With that done, she processes the solution through her distillation apparatus to concentrate it. Next she adds the reduced bark into the freshly distilled liquid before repeating the process of integration by applying enough heat to bring it to a gently rolling boil.
With the concoction in stage one of the required boiling time, Regina sends for Victor. While she waits, she turns an hourglass to mark when to back the heat down for another hour and takes a rest in the lounge chair she procured for precisely this purpose. When her father shows up unexpectedly, she arises to meet him and falls into his waiting arms. Feeling the weight of Red's fate bearing heavily down again, she sags against him, fighting back tears. Aged and weakened though he is, he holds her up with more strength in his frame than he has displayed in many years. His comfort and encouragement and reassurance is welcome for once, a bright light in a room shrouded by uncertainty and menaced by a looming possibility of one final, catastrophic disaster.
After pulling away some minutes later, he questions her about Oz. Regina gives him a watered down version of events, emphasizing her time with Ozma and Dorothy and downplaying how close she came to death while fighting Jillian and then Zelena. He frets over her as she relates how her sister had tried to rip her heart out, and his concern is so touching, she lets him as long as she can bear to. He expresses his desire to meet her new friends, which she echoes, stating that he would find in Dorothy another kindred spirit similar to Red and in Ozma a reminder that there is objective good in the world worth fighting and dying for. He then goes on to tell her more about what happened during her time away, how frightening it had been as the citadel was besieged, how the inhabitants – despite their fear – banded together as never before to repel the invaders and protect their home.
He is just informing her of his version of Mulan's epic ride to their salvation when Victor finally arrives. A glance from her tells her father that she wants to be left alone with the physician so they can speak more freely. She worries less about how her father will handle what is going to be discussed than how she will. She has never taken bad news well but his tendency to paw at her and offer sympathy she does not want only exacerbates her poor reception.
After her father has dismissed himself, she informs him of the seizure she'd witnessed in detail and then questions him about Red's condition since she was gone, particularly regarding said seizures. To her horror, she learns that Red has been declining precipitously since around the same time Snow was visiting the Burning Room in her dreams. They have repeated with regularity every three to four hours, meaning that there have been a dozen of them or more, each growing increasingly prolonged and violent.
"What about her brain?" Regina inquires, hardly able to hold back her tears at the depths of her wife's suffering. "Will it be damaged by all of this repeated trauma?"
The subject matter turns her stomach, but she needs to know if the fever and the seizures have had a permanent impact on the complex and highly sensitive organ that makes a person who they are. Biological science in the Enchanted Forest is rudimentary in most cases, but pioneering physicians in Victor's world have discovered that the brain is the seat of human consciousness and feeling, and that injuries to it sometimes alter a person in ways that seem unimaginable. Regina cannot fathom what she will do if Red wakes up paralyzed or unable to speak or see or hear, or worse yet has a completely different personality – all of which are recorded side-effects of catastrophic brain injuries.
Victor grimaces but does not lie, knowing better than to do so to her, especially about Red's welfare. "I'm concerned it may be," he replies grimly. "Her fever has not abated in nearly five days. It has only gotten worse, and the seizures are particularly worrisome. I can't predict in good conscience what will happen when she wakes up. All I can tell you is that I know Red. She is much stronger than we are, and that is not speaking as a matter of opinion but fact. Her unique biology allows her to endure more hardship without incurring permanent repercussions. So, while there is a definite chance that her brain has been irreparably damaged, I regard it as minor. I am cautiously optimistic that she will make a full recovery if your efforts succeed."
Regina breathes a sigh of relief, though it is short lived.
"However," Victor then continues, "she cannot be allowed to languish much longer without intervention. From what you told me about this latest seizure, I am genuinely frightened that they now pose a credible threat to – if not her survival – her quality of life going forward."
Regina blanches and then dismisses Victor to check on Red so that she can be alone with her thoughts. The sounds of the potion boiling over the burner lull her into a deepened state of meditation. Now that she actually has time to process why the decline of Red's body affected her soul as well, she finds that it makes sense to her. Red is not an ordinary human being but a werewolf whose dualistic spirit is expressly manifested in the flesh. This duality endows her with superhuman senses and abilities even outside her ability to transmorph into an enormous and absolutely gorgeous black wolf. That condition also goes a long way toward explaining why Red declined so precipitously in contrast to how a normal person would have under a similar curse. Her wolf is inextricably linked to her body, and with her body suffering the wolf is suffering as well, which acts as an efficacious augmentation to the curse.
And yet, even though she has reasonable explanations to why Red is suffering so acutely, her conversation with Victor has her rattled. It was like being stabbed by a thousand tiny invisible daggers to listen as the brilliant physician related Red's wasting away over the past two days. The telling was only made worse for her near failure to retrieve the necessary ingredient for the antidote. Zelena very nearly killed her at the Grove, and had that happened, all would have been lost. Even having prevailed, her victory came at a steep cost. Had Ozma not given of her own essence to restore her energy, she and Snow would likely still be in Oz. From the way Victor explained Red's deteriorating condition, they would have arrived too late to save her. Either the fever would have overwhelmed her heart having spiraled out of control or a subsequent seizure would have destroyed her brain. Coming back home with the cure in hand to a dead wife would have broken Regina all over again and so comprehensively that she knew instinctively she would have never recovered.
At the same time, learning just how close she'd come to defeat makes her even more appreciative of the efforts Ozma and Dorothy had gone to on her behalf. Yes, they lied to her about the passage of time at the cabin, but without them, she would never have made it this far. From Dorothy's levelheaded approach to swiftly escorting them safely through the Emerald City and the way she'd so bravely leapt in front of a deadly bolt meant for her heart, to Ozma's diligent care and companionship and trust and her selfless expenditure of her own essence on behalf of a woman she knew was once truly evil, her new friends were largely responsible for this opportunity to raise Red from the curse without permanent side-effects. The debt she owes them has soared far beyond her ability to ever settle it.
The only ameliorating factor is her increasing acceptance of destiny having guided her into their orbit. With all that has happened, how can she refute that fate had a hand in guiding her to them? It feels like the extraordinary series of events that unfolded were arranged just so that she could make their acquaintance and learn to love them more and faster than any friend she has ever made. And so that she could ultimately complete her mission to save her True Love and in doing so restore the precious faith and hope she had lost the night Daniel died. Once upon a time, she had cursed fate for what she'd been forced to endure, but she can now say that the cosmic scales upon which her life is determined are approaching a balance she believed unattainable. Although it is, she thinks, high past time for that, she is too grateful to be angry for the relentlessly dark and troubled road she was made to trod to get here.
Upon noticing the last grains of sand in the hour glass have slipped through the narrow opening between its wide ends, she dials back the heat and resets the hourglass. She spends most of the next hour pacing the room and reciting various recipes Rumple made her learn by rote. When not acting the part of a mad scientist, she returns to the chair to perch on the edge and anxiously watch the concoction boil. Finally the hourglass runs out a second time, and as Regina stands, she steels herself for the final task.
With the liquid still faintly roiling, she removes it from the flame and then pours it into a series of vials. She'd made much more than was necessary, but precautions are never a bad idea. Once the vials are full, she casts the spell written upon the bottom of Ozma's parchment, repeating the strange words as though she is fluent in the language – that she is able to do so is once again due to the fantastic enchantment that she intends to learn the next time she sees Ozma, whenever that is. The second the last syllable leaves her lips, the contents of the glass vials bubble and whirl at a dizzying pace before reaching crescendo in a flash of brilliant white brighter than the sun. When the process concludes, a stable honey-colored liquid remains.
Regina is momentarily awestruck by the process, but shakes herself out of the stupor when she remembers Victor's warning. Red has no time for her to dawdle, so she quickly scoops up the first vial and then dashes from the apothecarium. Skirts swishing about her ankles in her haste, she rushes through the hallways, paying no attention to her servants as they part to make room for her passage. They know what is at stake just as well as she does.
By the time she reaches the Royal Guest Chambers, there is fine sheen of sweat upon her brow, though it is less from exertion than it is from insidious doubts cropping up over whether or not the potion she'd prepared will work. Stopping in front of the door, she rests her forehead against the rough wood, appreciating the discomfort it provides to center her swirling emotions.
She knows she is being irrational. Not only had she received confirmation the cure would work from the Dark One, but Ozma added hers as well. And though Regina is more inclined to trust her benevolent fairy friend's opinion, she is reluctant to dismiss Rumple's on matters that concern magic. Still, too much is on the line for her to not stress over the possibility that she'd somehow made a mistake in the brewing process or had inflected a vowel incorrectly in the incantation. Seeing as either possibility would result in catastrophic failure, thus rendering the potion as little more than a disgustingly flavored placebo, she gives herself a moment to fret internally before scraping up enough courage to finally go inside.
Upon cracking the door open and peaking in, the scene she is greeted with is almost touching. Everyone she had left behind some hours ago is still present. She can tell by their change of clothing and freshened faces that they have recongregated after taking breaks of their own.
The first person in Regina's line of sight is Snow. With her raven hair plaited into a braid, she is seated beside Red, carefully situated near the edge of the bed on the far side while relating a story of their time on the run together. As she speaks, she alternates between playing with Red's limp hand and brushing her fingers through Red's dark, sweat dampened locks. Meanwhile, Charming stands beside his wife with his hands settled on her shoulders, adding his perspective to the adventure Snow is audibly recalling as he gazes at Red with the fondness of a sibling. Victor also is in the room, seated rigidly in a chair against the far wall as he reads a book, his attention split between that endeavor and keeping an eye on Red. And then there is Mulan, who hovers next to the window, as if standing sentry against death itself, that invisible foe which can neither be battled with sword or fist nor defeated or slain.
Red's Grandmother and Regina's father are the only new occupants. Henry is hovering closely to Granny, trying to look stoic and strong. A shadow over his face betrays his concern, and not only for his daughter-in-law. Interesting. He has not shown such overt concern for any woman since her mother died. Not that his monastic outlook has been troublesome to Regina. The thought of her father seeking companionship with any woman, however nice and caring, brings with it a slew of emotions that Regina does not want to deal with. Ever, preferably. The way her father is touching Granny, lightly about the shoulder as if she is something precious and fragile, indicates she will not get her wish. I wonder what Red will think about this development? Likely, Regina thinks, with far more enthusiasm as she will should her snap deduction prove accurate.
Meanwhile, Granny is hunched over in a chair she pulled up to the foot of the bed on the side nearest to Regina. Her back is to the door so that Regina cannot see her face. She does not need to, really. Shoulders drawn in, hands worrying together incessantly in her lap, it is clear the woman is on a knife's edge. It is the second time Regina has seen her wife's grandmother look her age. Unbidden, she remembers Granny's reaction to seeing Red the first time. Her stomach clenches painfully. After what happened two days earlier, no doubt she is about to be the target of an epic tirade if not the previously promised crossbow bolt to the heart.
All turn in concert when the door creaks as Regina forces it further open.
"Regina!" Snow exclaims, her eyes immediately seeking out Regina's in a silent inquiry. There is no misinterpreting what she is asking.
Regina nods in affirmation and then glides over to the bedside nearest to Granny. The elder Lucas looks up at her with glassy eyes in a silent plea for her to make good on the promise to save the only person they both love more than their own pride. In that simple glance, there is more emotion on display in the silver-haired matriarch than Regina has ever been privy to. She is especially surprised – because of the way they'd left things before Oz that is – to note it markedly excludes the condemnation she had expected to be directed at her.
Regina lifts the vial up for her, and for everyone else, to see. "I have it." Every countenance brightens at the sight of the luminescent amber liquid contained within the vial, including Granny's. After giving the intensely worried grandmother a reassuring smile, Regina steps around the chair to the head of the bed, where she sits delicately at Red's hip, much as Snow is on the opposite side. She allows her father a quick hug and accepts a kiss to her forehead, then indicates toward Charming with her hand as her father backs away. "Would you be so kind as to prop Red up, King David?"
He nods, taps Snow once on the shoulder, and after his wife rises and steps aside, moves up next to the bed even with Regina. Stooping down slightly, he maneuvers an arm beneath Red's neck right at the junction with her shoulders and very gently lifts her to where the limp woman's torso is vertical.
"Hold her there, please," Regina instructs as she unstops the vial, and then grips Red's jaw, tipping her head back slightly at the same time. She has to use more force than she would have liked to pry Red's mouth open, but once she has created enough of a gap in her lips to slip the potion by, she deftly raises the vial to Red's lips and gently pours the contents into her mouth. As it the amber liquid slips in, she makes sure to keep Red's head held backward so it slides down her throat with as little resistance as possible. Regina breathes an inaudible sigh of relief when the substance entering Red's esophagus is swallowed reflexively. With a nod of thanks to Charming, Regina releases her jaw and then helps hold her head steady as he lowers her torso back down to the bed. All there is to do now is wait.
It takes several intolerable minutes before Red shows the first sign of the potion taking effect. By that time the atmosphere is so thick with tension that it could be cut with knife. The stress of the situation ratchets up a notch when Red whimpers, her brows furrowing in deep discomfort as she begins to move her head, first to one side and then to the other. Her legs shuffle beneath the thick covers, and her whimpers grow increasingly distressed to the point that Regina's stomach rises into her throat.
Over the subsequent minutes, Regina is not sure how many, Red continues to pitifully whimper and moan, her legs and arms jerking and twitching, face a portrait of barely restrained suffering. Regina aches over her entire body as she watches her wife struggle, helpless to do anything but let the counter-potion take its course in undoing Zelena's handiwork. Such is the way of life. In some instances fire is necessary in order for new life to spring forth, and in many cases pain is required for healing. Knowing this, however, does not make her feel any better.
When at last it seems as if Red's vocal yet non-linguistic protests are at a climax, she abruptly stills and then goes slack. For a span of a handful of seconds that feel like hours, nothing happens, leaving Regina to wonder if it is time for her part in the process. But just as she starts to lean in for the kiss that will wake her wife, Red begins seizing again. This time the thrashing is so violent that Red would have thrown herself from the bed had Regina not been sitting beside her to act as a barrier – or had Charming and Mulan not been hovering close by to secure Red upon her side as they had done earlier. The groans that came from Red previously are notably absent for the first few seconds of the seizure, but those would have been preferable to the unholy banshee shrieks and wails that escape when her mouth falls open.
The variety of simply inhuman sounds that crawl out of Red's mouth over the next interminable minutes are so unnerving that Regina can feel a paralyzing fear set up shop in her heart. She clamps a hand over her own mouth to prevent herself from vocalizing just how petrified she is. Snow, however, is not quite so successful, and begins frantically questioning what is happening in between distressed cries.
Victor tries to explain that Red's body is reacting to the internal battle going on between the counter-potion and Zelena's magic, and that while the seizure may look frightening it is probably nothing to worry about. The probably doesn't seem to register with Snow, who is somewhat calmed by Victor's explanation. To Regina, it rings glaringly loud, filling her with renewed doubt as to whether or not the potion will work.
Is this my fault? Did I mess it up somehow? Did I just kill my wife?
The questions buzz through her mind like a saw blade has been turned loose inside her skull. No answers present themselves, nor is there any immediate relief to be found. She clenches her eyes shut and whimpers pathetically when Red's tremors intensify and her shrieks turn into garbled screams so loud they hurt her ears. A space of a few seconds passes, and then as quickly as the fit came on, it ends. Red gives one last strangled shout before everything stills and Regina feels her entire body goes lax upon the bed.
When Regina forces her lids apart, she finds Red's eyes wide open. Only there is something terribly wrong. Rather than her pupils focusing with awareness, they remain dilated, vacant, and staring into nothingness. Ignoring what her gut is telling her, Regina leans down at an awkward angle to press a kiss against Red's lips, thinking only of the indefinable love that occupies her heart. Upon contact of flesh to flesh, she is heartened to see that this time True Love's kiss works as it is supposed to, for a brilliant white light bursts forth from between their bodies, blinding in its intensity and suffusing the entire room with a warmth that soothes Regina to the depths of her very soul.
Leaning back with a smile on her face, she expects to have broken the curse and to see Red's eyes responsively gazing back at her in that adoring way that she has come to treasure. Skin that was once blemished with burns that if natural surely would have scarred has returned to pristine condition – smooth, pale, but with healthy coloring instead of the washed out, sickly tone. Regina's hopes soars, chest suffusing with exhilarating warmth. And then she lifts her gaze to Red's face and it all comes crashing spectacularly down.
"Red?" she asks, voice breathy with anxiety. No response is given. Red merely lies stock still, staring blankly forward as a trickle of foam drips from her glistening lips onto the sweat dampened sheets. Regina reaches over and grips her shoulder to give her a gentle shake. "Red? Red! Sweetheart, answer me! Wake up. Wake up, damn you, this very instant!" Her voice grows more panicked with each call that goes unanswered. Looking up at Victor, she implores him for help with her eyes.
After stepping quickly over to the bed, Victor presses a finger to Red's neck, feeling for her pulse. Regina's heart stutters at the look of dismay that crosses his face.
"Her heart isn't beating," he says, as if he does not understand what has happened.
The proclamation strikes at Regina like a well aimed sword thrust into her breast. She feels the entire world caving in around her, suffocating her as Snow begins to express her disbelief in gasping wails. Charming and Mulan stand stricken in place, frozen in shock at what has happened while Granny slumps back into her chair, skin devoid of color, her eyes like saucers and rapidly flooding with tears.
Unwilling to face reality, unable to process what is happening, Regina stares down at Red's frozen features. She reaches out to touch her face, hand quaking so badly that it shakes her entire arm. The skin under her fingertips is so hot that it nearly burns her hand, but she does not jerk away. Instead, like the masochist she is, she welcomes the sensation of her flesh being seared. It is fitting, she thinks, and wishes suddenly that her whole body could be consumed by the inferno so as to match the charring of her heart and soul.
A twisting nether of hopelessness invades Regina's heart and she does not resist its greedy claws. She does not want to live in a world in which Red is not with her, does not want to go back to the life she used to lead, so empty, so meaningless, so wasteful and self-destructive. Now that she has experienced True Love again, lived it each and every day for over seven years, how is she supposed to move on? With Daniel, she only got to sample a taste. Red has submerged her into an ocean of love whose waters are healing a heart that once was as black as coal and have restored goodness to a soul that was wholly corrupted by evil. Now that ocean is being drained dry, and there is nothing she can do to prevent it from evaporating before her very eyes.
Suddenly growing numb with the onset of reality, Regina shivers and wraps her arms around herself to ward off a bitter chill.
Death is coming for her. In the cavernous void of her despair addled mind, she can hear the earth groan beneath the ebon hooves of his pale horse, smell the sulfuric stench of his breath, and see his inhuman eyes burning a greedy red in anticipation of claiming his ultimate prize. Welcoming the relief of his sepulchral touch, she prays with every fiber of her being for it to find her swiftly.
Red is dead. Her life is already over.