A/N - I just to start out by apologizing for how late this update is. I know I said there might be a new chapter in January, but life just got in the way. Believe me when I say that I have not given up on this story, and that I think about it almost everyday. I sincerely thank all of you who are still following this and still reading it. I hope that you enjoy this chapter! Classes are coming to a close soon, so I'm hopeful that this story will wrap up soon as well!
For Henry, it was as if time had stood still. His world had merely been paused, unlike that of Regina and Emma, whose worlds had come crumbling down around them. To Henry, he had simply been a asleep, happily dreaming of flying about the city with the wind at his back and running across the world faster than a speeding bullet; his conscious safely confined to his active imagination.
With his mind healed just enough, Henry slowly reanimated. Emma and Regina were the first voices he heard as he emerged from his deep slumber; they were quiet, but they close. There was a slight ringing in the boy's ears as he came to, a humming that hadn't been there before. Rhythmic beeping filled his head and a blurry, white scene soon appeared before him. An odd sensation washed over his weakened body as he stirred beneath the blankets, a kind of tingling he only experienced when one of his legs fell asleep.
As Henry's eyelids fluttered and as he parted his lips to speak, his chest felt heavy and his throat too dry. And instead of any actual words, the boy only managed to let out a slight cough. The muffled voices suddenly vanished as a defining silence washed over the room. The only sound that dared to break the sound barrier was Henry's steady breathing.
Before it could register with the boy, Regina and Emma were hovering over him. His vision slowly focused as the women stared down at him, both looking as if they'd just survived hell; for the briefest of moments, he didn't recognize them.
"M- mom?" he asked through husky tone, his vocal chords scratching against one another. "Emma?" There were tears in Regina's eyes as she smiled down at him, and he didn't understand why. "What's wrong?"
Regina laughed gently and shook her head, "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."
Henry felt cold hands ran through his hair as Emma brushed his bangs away from his eyes. "Welcome back, Kid."
Henry winced slightly as a single syllable spilled from his lips. "Back?"
Keeping her gaze glued to Henry, Emma skipped to the door and slid it open, excitedly shouting for Dr. Whale. Hurried orders to page the physical rang out from the front dest. The last thing Emma was thinking about were the many faded battle wounds imprinted in her flesh as she ushered in a nurse wearing bunny rabbit scrubs.
Afraid that this was all just a dream, that she would wake up any second and Henry would still be asleep, Regina leaned down and kissed his forehead the same way she had been doing for the past two months. As her lips brushed his skin, a chill ran down her spine: this was real. His hand held onto her hand and his eyes looked up at her eyes. This was real.
"Ow." Henry hissed as his cheeks turned a bright pink in embarrassment. He'd been poked and prodded too many times to count, and yet, the sting of a needle never failed to send a unwelcome shock through his system.
"Almost done," Doctor Whale promised. She gave her patient a gentle brush on the shoulder as she wrapped a bandage around his old IV site. Careful not to bump into the new line she'd just set, the curly-haired woman removed her gloves and guided Henry back against the bed. "Don't tell your mom," she whispered as she passed him a handful of candy and gave him a friendly wink.
"So?" Emma prompted, her arms folded over her chest; the sleeves of her denim shirt rolled up just an inch past her elbows. She and Regina had been standing in the background for what felt like hours, both of them holding their breath as they watched Doctor Whale work with Henry.
Her back still turned towards the women, Whale waved her hand up, down, and all around. "Follow my finger," she instructed. "Good. And squeeze as hard as you can," she said as she held out two fingers. "Excellent. Last thing: what's Jean Grey's alter ego"
"The Pheonix" Henry replied automatically.
With a satisfied smile, Doctor Whale made a mental note of Henry's progress. She tried to hide her own amazement at such a sudden change, for although she had years of experience doing what she did, she couldn't recall the last time something like this had a occurred; aside from the obvious, Henry was in perfect health.
"Right," Whale began decidedly as she turned to face Regina and Emma, who both looked as if they were about to explode from anticipation. "All of his tests look good and his vitals are right where they should be." Regina let out a heavy sigh of relief as she held back the tears of joy. She almost turned to hug Emma, but something stopped her; it was as if there were an invisible force between her and the blonde. "Look, it's been three days. If anything was going to happen by now, it would have. You can relax," Whale said, mostly to to Emma.
As Whale looked over Henry's chart, Regina floated towards her son and sat on the bed right next to him. She pulled him in close, never more grateful to hold him in her arms; she absentmindedly combed his hair to the side, while Emma watched from afar. The color in Henry's cheeks had returned gradually, no longer pale, but instead a very-much-alive pink. The dark shadows beneath his eyes faded as he himself became more awake and alert.
"So what do we do now?" Emma asked suddenly. She wanted to rejoice in Henry's return as Regina had been, but she was too afraid. Henry was back, yes, but he was still sick. That much hadn't changed.
Dr. Whale held Henry's chart under one arm and tucked her pen back into her breast pocket. Before she responded to Emma's inquiry, she made a point of positioning herself so that she could see all three family members— she hated speaking about a patient as if they weren't there. And Henry was most definitely present. "Now, we let Henry recover, gain his strength back, get on solid foods again. His body needs time to heal, as well as his mind."
Henry could hear Regina's breathing; he could feel her heart beating beside him. He observed Emma as she shifted in her spot and shoved her hands into her back pockets, the way her shoulders rose as she inhaled deeply. And he noted the way Whale looked to Regina and then Emma, as if she were waiting for them to say something.
"How much longer do I have to be here?" Henry wanted to know, a purple Jolly Rancher tucked away in his left cheek. Emma and Regina exchanged a similar expression, one of uncertainty and sadness. And Henry saw it. It was the same expression they'd been trying to hide for the past three days, but were not as successful as they thought they were.
Sensing that neither Emma nor Regina knew how to answer, Whale stepped forward. "Henry, how would you like to go home?"
Henry's eyes widened and his face lit up. "Can I?"
Regina tilted her head to the side, "Can he?"
"I don't see why not. I'll get the discharge papers ready." Quickly, Whale added, "It's only temporary, though. He'll have to be back the day after tomorrow to resume treatments, all right? And I want you log his blood pressure in the morning, afternoon, and evening. Can you do that?" Regina and Emma nodded dutifully.
"You sure this is OK? I mean, he doesn't need to be, like, kept for observation or anything?" Emma peered over at Whale questioningly. It wasn't that she didn't trust the doctor, she was just terrified of something else going wrong.
"Positive," Whale said assuringly. "I'll have them send you off with some extra supplies, another bag of fluids, stuff like that."
"Thank you," Regina exhaled.
With a final glance at Henry, her miracle patient, Whale shrugged modestly. "Don't mention it. You all earned this."
All of the lights had been turned off. The rooms were a chilling 40 degrees. Counters were bare, though not nearly as immaculate as they had once been. There was no lingering scent of Pine Sol or Lemon Pledge, but rather a peculiar odor that seemed to be coming from the fridge. A place that had once been filled with the laughter of a child and the cooking of someone who ought to be a professional chef, the Mills home had been practically abandoned.
The apartment hadn't been lived in since early April and it showed the moment Regina opened the door. She'd been back to the flat every once-in-a-while to grab a change of clothes or a quick shower, but for the most part, she'd been staying at the hospital for the past several months. The very idea of coming back home had become a bit foreign to the brunette. But now, as she stood in the living room and watched Henry climb out of Emma's arms and onto the couch, Regina chastised herself for ever thinking otherwise.
Wrapped in a hospital blanket with a portable blood-pressure machine in his lap, Henry had been carried from the taxi to the apartment by Emma. Although it was a bit embarrassing, Henry was grateful not to have climbed up the many stairs. Every limb felt three times heavier than it did before; his arms like lead and his legs as though cement blocks were tied to his ankles.
With a simple press of a button, the television set that had sat dormant for months flashed and a jazzy theme song played through the speakers as Henry began surfing for cartoons. While Regina put away their overnight bags and turned up the heat, Emma filled the empty seat next to brown-haired 11 year-old, her nerves wreaking havoc upon her sanity. She'd been on edge all afternoon, ever since they got word that Henry could leave. She made note of every little movement that Henry made, every breath that he took. But now, as she sat beside Henry the way she'd done so many times before, and as he settled on an episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender that they'd watched together more than once, Emma let herself relax— just enough to savor the moment.
When Regina stumbled upon the sight in the living room, she felt as though she could breathe just a little easier. The moment that Henry woke up, the hands that had been slowly suffocating her, clamped around each of her lungs, finally let go. Her chest was no longer a tight mess, and her heart beat just a little slower; the haze that she'd been walking in had let up. Seeing Emma and Henry in their usual positions, as if nothing had ever changed, it was as though Regina could feel again.
It wasn't long before Henry had dozed off, his head on Emma's lap. Unable to stomach the hospital-issued linen that reeked of disinfectant, Regina brought Henry's pillows from his bed, and spread his blanket over his frail form. Henry sighed contentedly as he turned onto his side and Emma and Regina shared a look of relief at his stirring.
There was never a question about whether Emma would stay the night. It was a silent assumption made by both women. When Regina kissed her son's forehead, she glanced over at Emma in the darkness and, although they could hardly see one another, one corner of Regina's mouth turned upwards. Henry was home, safe and sound. And both of his mothers were with him.
