Regina Mills knew very little of her biological family. Although she'd arrived at the orphanage as a child, her memories of a life before that were blurry and confusing. The only thing she'd been told, the only thing she'd held onto as she grew up, was the fact that her single mother had five other children to care for. There had been no note or further explanation except for this.

So it went that Regina lived most of her adult life clinging to that singular revelation. She'd been the last the straw, or so she believed herself to be. The runt of the litter. She'd told this to Emma, of course, but the blonde had her own reasons for being in the system. While they'd both been abandoned, Regina knew Emma would never be able to understand this. And as the brunette came into her own and became an adult— a mother— her only goal was to provide a safe and loving home for Henry, one in which he had enough; one in which he was enough. He was only one person, of course, but he was the only person Regina had ever let into her heart, aside from Emma. The two occasions that Regina's guard had been down had both resulted in pain and loss, though she wouldn't trade either the blonde or the little boy for the world. In the end, she found that her fear of Henry feeling neglected severely outweighed her fear of having him taken away from her.

And so, as Regina spent the two months at Henry's bedside after his second heart attack, she thought about how angry she'd been all those years at her biological mother. During her teens, she found herself quietly cursing the mysterious woman who'd given birth to her, only to give her up. Regina blamed her for ending up with Cora as a mom and all the years of emotional abuse she'd endured under Cora's rule. She hated her biological mother for making her search crowds of women on the street and wondering if any one of them were Her.

But, she also loved her mother. It'd taken her a while to realize this, but deep down, Regina held a great affection for the woman who'd brought her into this world. It wasn't until this point in her life that Regina finally understood just how delicate it could truly be. If her mother had never put her up for adoption, Regina never would have met Emma— her best friend, the only person she'd ever felt at home with, other than Henry, whom she never would have been able to adopt. Everything good in her life was because of Regina's mother— or rather, the decision her mother had made. And that, Regina learned, was what being a parent was all about: making sacrifices. Doing something that kills you if it means your child has a better chance. Unfortunately in this situation, there was nothing Regina would do for Henry. There was no obvious choice she could make if it would mean saving her son. She was stuck. She and Emma were powerless, at the mercy of forces beyond their control. Sometimes, it was almost as if they were back to where they'd started all those years ago.


"Do you remember that time we went sledding after curfew?" Emma inquired randomly as she hung up the third X-Men poster of the day. Standing on her tippiest of toes, the blonde woman utilized her entire wingspan and pressed the sticky side of the wall-strips onto the flat surface.

Regina was busy organizing the set of picture frames Belle had delivered from her office earlier that morning. Even though Henry couldn't see them, the brunette wanted everything to look perfect for when he woke up. She didn't want a cold, plain hospital room to be the first thing he saw; she wanted it to feel like home— as much like home as she could make it. The children's ward was far better than the ICU, but still, his room had been begging for a bit of flair. "Which time would that be? The year of the snowball fight? Or the year we were chased through Central Park by that lovely homeless man with one tooth?" Regina countered, rolling her eyes at the recollections.

"Either," Emma shrugged.

"In that case, no," Regina chuckled.

Stepping back and inspecting her handiwork, Emma tilted her head to one side. This was the only way the poster looked level. "Gina, whaddu think? How's it look?" she called over her shoulder.

Sighing in annoyance at being pulled away from her own project, Regina spun around slowly and stopped short when she laid eyes upon the object in question. Her shoulders just grazing Emma's, Regina found herself in the same position as her friend and squinting at the large, colorful banner. Wolverine was leading the pack with his claws bared, his untamed mane spiking out from his face. Storm was to his left, her white hair and flowing black cape blowing in the wind. Her leather costume hugged her form tightly, accentuating every curve and illuminating every contour. But that beside the point. "I didn't know your arms were different lengths," Regina jested dryly once she'd redirected her focus.

Emma gave the brunette a playful swipe, much to Regina's surprise. Emma wasn't a fan of contact unless she initiated it, and she had to have a good reason to do so. Neither of them had discussed that night Henry was crashing and Regina fell into Emma's arms; they didn't know how to. But, in that fleeting moment of carelessness and banter, the blonde never gave it a second thought.

With a dramatic groan, Emma attempted to rectify her mistake. She started to wish she had four hands, she was having so much difficulty. "They don't make these things easy to move, do they?" she grunted, reaching as far as she could.

Doing her best to be supportive and not laugh at Emma's struggle, Regina stepped forwardly politely. "Here, let me help you." Taking the left side, she took her cue from Emma. "Where do you want it?"

"Lift up your end just a little. There, yeah. Ok," Emma nodded. Regina pressed the poster-strips to the wall until she was sure they'd stick. One more time, the women backed away and examined the interior accessory. Now, it was level. "Perfect."

Their arms hanging loosely at their sides, neither Emma nor Regina had realized just how close they were until their knuckles grazed against one another's. Instantly, goosebumps rose along Regina's forearm and spread to the crook of her elbow. It was unexpected, to say the least. It was as if there'd been a static shock between them as they made contact, a buzz that she couldn't shake.

Meanwhile, Emma had been the first to act. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. Gracefully, she did the Texas Two Step to her right and narrowly dodged yet another bullet. "We should try it this year. Sledding, I mean. Just the three of us," she said as she shoved her hands into her front pockets. Emma's elbows locked and her shoulders rose up to her ears as she dug the linoleum floor with her heels.

Slightly saddened at Emma's unwavering confidence to speak about the future in such broad terms, Regina nodded stiffly and swallowed her own heartache. "That would be nice," she said absentmindedly. She couldn't ignore the slight, but possible, prospect of Henry not being around long enough to enjoy such an activity.

In the midst of their awkward round-about, Emma and Regina were interrupted by a lady in a white lab coat wearing a smile. The corners of her mouth spread from ear to ear and her eyes were lit up like fireworks on the fourth of July. Dr. Whale addressed the two mothers cordially, but much less formally than some of the other families. "I've just received Henry's latest test results," she began, clearly building up the tension.

"And?" Emma asked eagerly. Without realizing it, she'd drifted back towards Regina, almost as if they were magnets being drawn toward one another. There was something comforting about her presence; when they were together, Emma didn't feel as alone or afraid. Then again, that's how it had always been. Regina felt the same way.

"And, I'm happy to report that Henry's stable enough for us to extubate him." Dr. Whale all but leapt with joy at the announcement. She'd been monitoring him extra closely in the last several weeks, even going so far as to coming to check on him when she wasn't on-call. The other pediatric attending was more than competent, but Veronica had built a relationship with this family— one much stronger than she'd built with the others. There was something about this clan, something that spoke to her.

Emma and Regina let out a sigh of relief at the news. The blonde even went so far as to hug the brunette, she was so excited. For the second time that day, Emma initiated the contact. And, for the second time, Regina said nothing.

Their embrace didn't last long; three seconds at the most. After they broke apart, although they were both still concerned for Henry, Regina was hit with an overwhelming chill that made her shudder. When Emma stepped back, Regina immediately wished she hadn't.

"So," Regina started, slightly bewildered, "now what? Does anything else change?"

Her smile faltering just a centimeter, Dr. Whale made sure not to alarm the parents. "Well, yes and no. Now that we know Henry is strong enough to breathe on his own, which we'll see in a moment, it's fair to say that the worst is over. Once we extubate him, though, there isn't very much we can do but continue to wait for him to regain consciousness."

"But, the worst is over, right?" Emma pressed, the dimples in her chin suddenly more pronounced as she tried not to fret.

"Yes," Dr. Whale assured the mothers. When neither of them seemed completely convinced, the younger woman inhaled slowly and spoke to them with the utmost transparency. "You have to keep in mind, Henry's body has gone through a tremendous amount of stress for someone his age. But, that doesn't mean he isn't strong enough to make a full-recovery. You remember what I said before? Once Henry wakes up, we'll resume treatment just as we did in the beginning."

Resisting the urge to bite her nails, Emma frowned at Henry's physician. "How far has the cancer spread since he's been asleep?" She couldn't bring herself to say the word "coma."

She'd been dreading this question. Of course, she would have told them anyway. But, whenever the parents were one step ahead of you, it can throw off the whole "doctor-knows-best" concept Dr. Whale had been taught. "Not enough to have lost any hope in Henry beating this," was all she said. "But, it's like I tell everyone: one step at a time." Checking her watch, Whale addressed Emma and Regina respectfully. "Now, I think it's about time we get rid of that tube, don't you? I'll ask a nurse to come in and—"

"Actually," Regina cut in timidly. Making a point to stare at Emma until the blonde looked back at her, the brunette said, "We would feel a lot more comfortable if you did it. The nurses have been amazing with Henry, but you're the only one he's actually met, so—"

"So, we don't want a stranger doing it," Emma finished in her usual brash manner.

Blinking slowly, an empathetic smirk crossed Dr. Whale's lips as she set Henry's file down beside his feet. "I understand," she mused. As efficiently as she could, Veronica sterilized herself, snapped a pair of purple, latex gloves on, and prepped the area accordingly. Silently, she went over the steps over and over again, just as she'd been shown during her time in medical school. "This will look a lot worse than it is," she warned. "Henry won't feel a thing." She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and waited until Regina was holding Henry's hand firmly in her own, while Emma gently pat his knee; however complicated their situation was, they were undeniably a family. "I'm going to count to three. One… two…" and where the number three should have been said, Dr. Whale extracted the plastic pipe from Henry's mouth. There was a brief gurgling sound and a change in Henry's blood pressure, but soon, both become nothing but memories.

While Dr. Whale disposed of everything in the proper receptacles, Regina and Emma took a minute to admire how much their son looked like their son again. Amazingly enough, without the breathing tube and medical tape stuck to his chin and cheeks, Henry resembled a normal 11 year-old boy. He didn't look sick or diseased. Hell, he didn't even look like he was in a coma. He simply looked like a sleeping child. Both of his mothers instantly regained 10 years of their lives back.

"We're here," Regina whispered with a kiss to the top of Henry's head. "We're right here."

Before Dr. Whale left, she wrapped the small, unobtrusive oxygen chord around Henry's head, just under his nose. Unwrapping her stethoscope from around her neck, she listened to the boy's heart and timed his breathing. "His lungs sound good," she said approvingly. "Henry's stats might fluctuate for the next hour or so, but that's normal. It's just his body's way of readjusting. " Scooping up the clipboard from the bed, Whale stood by the door and gestured to Emma and Regina. "If either of you have any questions, you know where to find me."

Still marveling at how peaceful Henry now seemed, Regina turned her head slightly with tears in her eyes and a gracious smile. "Thank you," was all she could say without completely losing it.

Dr. Whale tilted her head just an inch. "Of course."

And soon, Emma and Regina were alone with their son again. This time, both of them with a renewed sense of hope. Today marked one less machine that Henry was plugged into— and it was a doozy of a machine at that. Neither one of them had been expecting such a milestone in his recovery. It was as Dr. Whale had said: one step at a time.

"You're right," Regina murmured after several silent minutes had passed.

Emma had been staring down at Henry from the side of the bed, amazed at how resilient he was. "Huh?" she mumbled, only half-listening.

"You're right," Regina repeated as she wiped her nose. She sniffled shortly and made sure the tears had totally stopped before continuing. "We should go sledding this year. Just the three of us. We can take him to our old spot, just past the bridge. I think he'd love that." Regina's cheeks suddenly flushed as she added a quiet, "I'd love that."

Like a puppy who'd just been beckoned, Emma's ears perked up, as well as her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat and she couldn't help but grin like a fool. It'd been so long since she and Regina had had a conversation that didn't end bitterly, she was physically incapable of hiding her elation. She feel it in Regina's tone; she wasn't just saying what she thought Emma wanted to hear, but with an authenticity and genuine passion. "Really?" Emma whooped. "You're serious?"

Regina nodded before cocking an eyebrow at Emma. "On one condition."

Emma was a bit too enthusiastic when she said, "Anything."

Combing her fingers through Henry's bangs, Regina pulled the blanket up to the crook of his elbows, careful not to bump the IV line, and spoke casually, though she meant every word. "No one-toothed homeless men chasing after us."


A/N - Hey! I hope you all enjoyed this update. Finally, some SwanQueen action. I hope this was a satisfactory beginning of the real SQ romance that seemed like a friendship at first. I know it's under somewhat bizarre circumstances, but I really hope you're all all right with how it unfolds. Again, I'm sorry it's taken so long. I know it's been a year since I've started this and I never thought it would take so much time to finish. But, as I've mentioned before, I have a very clear idea of how it is going to end. I don't want to give an estimate, but I don't believe it will go on for too much longer. In the meantime, I hope you all continue to enjoy "Fool for You" and that you stick around for more updates on this one! Thanks!