A/N - Hi friends! I know I said I was going to try and focus on one story at a time, but I've been thinking a lot about "Universe & U" lately and I just had to revisit it. Here's a super-short update for you all. Normally, I try and go for a minimum of 2,000 words and this is just a little under that. I actually had most of this completed a while ago; I guess I just forgot to finish it. I'm so sorry! So, here's something to hold you over until the next chapter. Hopefully I'll be back sooner than five months!


"You seriously don't remember Jenny Lee?" Emma asked with a disbelieving chuckle. Her shoulders shuddered in laughter and her light curls tossed back as she lifted her legs onto her chair, hugging them to her chest like a teenager. She and Regina had been up for hours, maintaining a watchful eye on Henry in-between bursts of reminiscing. The past few days had been relatively calm. With Dr. Whale's assurance that Henry had truly passed the worst part, the mothers found it a little easier to breathe.

"We knew dozens of kids, Emma. Do you honestly expect me to recall any of them?" Regina countered as she sipped on a cup of tea, the styrofoam bending slightly in her grasp. She felt the steam rise up and hit her nose, and she gently pat her face with the back of her sleeve.

"You should," the blonde pressed, "especially when they tried to steal your favorite shirt. Come on, Gina. You remember: she had real dark brown hair and a birthmark all across her left leg. I called her brace-face 'cause I knew she was too afraid of me to say anything." Waving a hand as if beckoning Regina, Emma sighed in concession. "Well, she was a bitch. That's all I'm saying."

"Please," the brunette clipped, "language."

Emma rolled her eyes dismissively and shook her head. "I know you remember her," she muttered. With a loud groan, she stretched an arm down the bed and reached for the cup of coffee that sat on the always-empty portable table. Henry was still on a feeding tube, though on more than one occasion, an orderly forgot and brought a tray of food for the boy. Pretending that it didn't bother them, Emma and Regina would shrug it off while Emma ate the "repugnant mess," as Regina called it.

Regina sat forward and rubbed Henry's arm lovingly. Whenever they made contact, it was as if the rest of the world didn't exist. It was just as it had been the past 11 years: her heart beat only for her son. Without being connected to the ventilator, he looked so much more peaceful. But the fact remained that he still hadn't woken up.

In a rather ungraceful movement, Emma attempted to straighten her back and drink her coffee. Unfortunately, being the klutz that she was, she spilled the hot liquid down the front of her green shirt. Letting out a pained yelp, she leapt out of the chair and nearly dropped the rest of her beverage on the floor. "Shit!" she hissed as she held her arms out, an unsightly stain forming around her stomach.

"Are you all right? Did you burn yourself?" Regina asked quickly, having snapped out of her two-person world. With more caution than her friend, she stood up and set aside her own cup. "Here, let me help you," she offered. On an impulse, she grabbed the hem of Emma's shirt; the blonde backed away. "Emma, it's alright. I know you're wearing a tank top, I can see it."

"No," Emma mumbled, unable make eye-contact. "It's not…"

Regina watched the way Emma shrank back into her shell, the way she retreated so violently. She saw how the woman's posture diminished. In a split second, her normally powerful and fearsome friend had become just another mortal. Regina couldn't believe that she'd forgotten about them, and she chastised herself for doing so. She'd seen them before, but it'd been quite some time. "Oh," she replied, as if she understood, though she knew she would never fully be able to. "Um…"

Too embarrassed to stand before Regina any longer, and suddenly growing cold from her drenched shirt, Emma rushed off into the tiny bathroom and shut the door behind her. As if the metal lock weren't enough, she pressed her back against the hard surface and closed her eyes. "Keep it together," she murmured to herself. "Everything's ok."

"Emma?" she heard Regina call out. "Emma, are you—"

"I'm fine!" Emma shouted back. Extremely thankful for the barrier between herself and Regina, she cleared her throat and responded with as much assurance as she could muster. "Really, I'm ok!"

Little did she know that Regina was standing right outside of the door, her arms folded over her chest, grinding her teeth anxiously. She could hear every calming breath and she could feel every ounce of shame. Her heart was already breaking for Henry, there wasn't enough to break for Emma as well.

As Regina fretted at the foot of Henry's bed, Emma swiftly removed the contaminated garment, filled the sink with cold water, and held the material beneath the surface; goosebumps rose along her slim arms as she soaked it frustratedly. Her tank top had suffered far less damage; a few specks of coffee here and there. It was still functioning. But, much to Emma's incredible dismay and mortification, she didn't have anything else to wear, not even a sweater. It'd been an unnaturally warm day for the beginning of fall; she didn't think she needed anything else than a long-sleeve shirt.

In the midst of her panicked thoughts, there was a gentle tap at the door and Emma spun on her heels quicker than a thief caught in the act. "Em?" Regina whispered. "Please, talk to me?"

Emma hated when Regina called her "Em." Ok, that was a lie. She loved it when Regina called her "Em." What she hated was that she could never ignore Regina when she called her that. Her childhood nickname, the one everyone used but that Regina had started, had haunted her throughout her entire life. It never felt right when someone else called her that. Regina was the only one allowed to refer to her as "Em."

Eventually, Emma left the tarnished cloth in the sink and started pacing up and down the tiny enclosure. She began to sweat and her previously-even breathing sped up as she anxiously tried to think of another option. Fanning her face with both hands, she inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. She counted slowly in her head, One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi. Emma made it all the way to 23 Mississippis when she curled her fingers around the handle and braced herself. When she opened the door, the first thing she saw was Regina's gaze fall directly towards her shoulder. She could hear how quickly Regina's heart was beating, but she wasn't sure if it was out of fear or shame.

Regina had closed off their hospital room from the rest of the floor. She wanted Emma to feel a safe as possible. She wanted her to know that it was just three of them. No one else would see her; no one else would judge her. Regina wouldn't allow it. As she waited for Emma to come back out— as she hoped Emma would come back out— the brunette woman tried to remember the last time she'd seen them. It'd been years and yet, once Emma revealed herself to Regina, it was as if it were only yesterday. And that terrified her.

For a moment, Regina thought there were more. She thought they'd multiplied. She saw how they'd stretched across Emma's fare skin, how they'd faded over time. Regina recalled every story of how they'd been obtained and the longer she stared at them, the more she ached for her friend. Although the physical wounds had healed, Regina knew the emotional scars were just a fresh. She noticed them everyday that she spent with Emma.

Regina opened her mouth, but nothing come out. It was as if she'd lost her voice completely. She took a step towards Emma, but the traumatized blonde backed away instinctively. "Emma, I'm so—"

And then, without warning, something miraculous happened. A third voice appeared. Well, it wasn't so much a voice as it was a cough— and it didn't come from either of the adults. Emma and Regina suddenly forgot what they'd been talking about. Jenny Lee, spilled coffee, and old battle wounds soon slipped their minds as they both flocked to Henry's bedside.

"Henry?" Regina gasped.

The women each grabbed one of the boy's hands and gave it a tight squeeze. Henry's features contorted as if he were in pain. His dry lips parted slightly and he inhaled deeply, his chest rising of his own accord. For the second time, Henry let out a short cough. It was the most beautiful sound Emma and Regina had heard in months.

Slowly, the 11 year-old stirred out of his prolonged slumber. His head shook from side to side ever-so-slowly and his fingers wiggled under the pressure of his mothers' grips. Henry's eyes fluttered briefly before opening completely. Everything was blurry. The faint beeping of monitors echoed in Henry's ears as he gradually come to consciousness. The pungent odor of bleach stung his nose and he wrinkled it in discomfort. One by one, fuzzy circles become defined objects and obscure faces became the two women who loved him most. "M- mom?" Henry slurred once he noted the brown hair. "E- Emma?" And just like that, tears poured down Regina's cheeks as she planted Henry's forehead with kisses. Her own vision blurred as she sobbed tears of joy. Emma fell to her knees and covered her face with her free hand. "Wh- what's wrong?" Henry rasped.

"Nothing," Regina said, sniffling intermittently. "Nothing's wrong," she assured him.

Rising to her feet, completely unbothered by how exposed she was to Henry, Emma took her turn kissing his forehead. He tried to paw at her to get her to stop, but he was too weak. His arm never even lifted from the bed. Emma pushed his bangs back and peered down at the youthful face she'd missed so much. "Welcome back, Kid."

"Ba- back?" Emma and Regina laughed tiredly at Henry's obliviousness. They wore smiles brighter than the sun as they beamed at the confused patient.

Several minutes was all it took for them to lose Henry, and several minutes was all it took for him to return. Regina and Emma had never been so relieved in their entire lives. For the first time in months, they felt as if they could breathe again. Their boy was finally back. Their son was back.