Everything happened so incredibly fast, Regina barely had a clue what to do with herself. She'd felt the curse weakening; she'd noticed it in the smallest of ways. She had a single frown line between her eyes, noticed a grey hair that had been immediately pulled. Her one night with David, which brought a shudder to her as she remembered it, had felt so very different somehow; like something inside of her had changed as he collapsed against her between her Egyptian cotton sheets, pressed wet kisses to her collarbone and stated – once again – how much he didn't love her; except that final time he'd declared how much it scared him that he could.

He didn't know who he was at the time, but she did. And it made the sentiment all the more cruel.

Her tree was dying – impossible seeing as nothing was able to die, nothing aged, nothing altered. But Emma Swan had been a catalyst for so much change; Regina had stopped wondering as to how, and started praying there was a way to fix it. Because if she couldn't win, she was going to make damn sure Snow White couldn't. She'd worked so hard; far too hard to give up when the world started caving in.

It didn't matter though – she did win. Emma had the apple turnover; she was going to eat it. The sleeping curse would take her and she'd be entombed for all eternity – making absolutely positive the curse would hold fast. That was, until she'd gotten the call.

Within an instant she didn't care about the curse or all of those retched townspeople. None of them gave a damn about her anyway, as their Queen or their Mayor – regardless of her efforts over the twenty-eight years they thought she'd been just a small-town politician. She didn't care about Snow White, or Emma, or David...she took a deep breath as everything that had happened, started to really sink in.

David. She didn't care about David. Of course she didn't.

Emma broke the curse and she'd been forced to run. The self-righteous Blue Fairy, forecasting her doom before she'd even had a chance to revel in the fact that – curse be damned, her son was alive. She didn't care about anything else. That was, until she was ever so gently reminded of how much they hated her.

It was just one tragedy after another. She'd threatened David; she'd held him against a wall and threatened to squeeze the life out of him. She'd seen in his eyes, the betrayal and the hurt; a mixture of the loss of his family and the secret that lived within them both. Henry saved him and for that she was silently grateful, allowing her guilt to accept Henry's plea to leave everyone alone.

She'd felt like a leper in a great alabaster tower. Pristine walls, manicured gardens and a prisoner inside that was poisonous to the touch. It hadn't stopped David, though – and even though he'd come to her with venom on his lips – he'd come. He'd come without fear and he'd looked her in the eye with the bitter vengeance of a man who'd lost everything – an image she knew all too well – and he'd demanded she release her son to him. For all the people that could have come, for all the love she had for her son. She was loathe to admit she likely wouldn't have given him up for anyone less.

She didn't love David. She didn't want him. But she could feel something growing within her. A fondness, one might say, for the man that remembered she had a name.

He wasn't as cruel to her as she'd expected; noticing something in him shift as well when he realized the honesty in what she'd told him. He didn't trust her and she couldn't honestly blame him, but there was something else there; something she would have sworn dead when the curse finally broke.

She'd kept herself hidden away in her home, behind closed doors and far away from prying, judging eyes. She had ample time to consider her options and she knew, if there was any chance of getting Henry back, she needed to tread carefully. Three weeks since Emma and Mary-Margaret had fallen through the portal and almost five since David had appeared on her doorstep, Regina's face paled as she sat with her head against the ivory tiles of her ensuite; cool against her clammy skin as she fought the urge to throw up. She'd almost considered letting the phone ring out, but with the fear that something could have happened to Henry, she splashed water on her face and dashed to the cordless receiver on her nightstand.

She was relieved to know the news was simply that David had promised Henry ice-cream for a near-perfect report card; what surprised Regina, though, wasn't so much that David had consulted her – as to whether the reward was ample enough or far too generous – it was that he actually invited Regina along. She'd considered not going; looking down at her hands shaking as she'd placed the phone back on the hook. She was nervous, agitated and terrified of how she would speak to David. The last thing she wanted to do was appear weak in front of any of the townspeople – she didn't want to appear as though she'd bend for any of them but Henry.

But she did need to talk to David, she knew she did. Running her hands through her hair, Regina let out a shuddering sigh and paced the bedroom, her bare toes pressing against the soft, stark white carpet. She needed an excuse to talk to him and unwittingly he was giving her one; but she was completely at a loss as to what to say.

Most people would have thought it crazy, bundled up in winter coats and the three of them filing into the only ice-cream parlour in town. The woman behind the counter – David had never known her personally in Storybrooke, but he recognised her then as the old woman who'd once lived in a house that rather remarkably resembled a shoe; near to his mother's cottage – she cast Regina a wary glance, noting how uneasy Henry still seemed to be around his mother, regardless of his excitement for ice-cream; but David smiled brightly, defending her against any speculation she was there for anything other than ice-cream with her son.

David ordered vanilla in a waffle-cone with a flake, Henry had Mint-chocolate chip and reluctantly – swallowing back a faint wave of nausea – Regina accepted when Henry ordered for her; Rocky-Road, her favourite.

David and Regina sat in silence, smiling whenever Henry's excitement peaked as he recounted the events of his day. Every now and then, David glanced over at her and took note that her small tub of ice cream, covered in marshmallows and chocolate syrup, was almost completely untouched.

He took a moment to study her as her attention was completely focussed on her son's tale. He twitched as he saw her smile and though the sentiment didn't seem to reach her eyes completely, it was a genuine, loving smile. She had a pallor complexion though, paler than her usual warm tan – that was always in direct contrast with the Maine weather – and while she was wrapped up in a warm, black coat with a thick scarf around her neck – leather gloves over her hands – she still seemed chilled.

"Are you alright, Regina?" He asked worriedly, fearing somehow that she was ill and no one had come near enough to her to notice, or care. He understood the fears and reservations of the town – and to her credit, he was fairly certain Regina did too – but to completely ignore the woman, when it was becoming more and more clear that she was unwell; made him rather silently furious.

He couldn't accurately note, though, whether he was angry with the rest of the town or himself. Had the breaking of the curse blinded him completely, from the fact that David Nolan – a large part of who he would forever be – had trusted her and cared for this woman.

"Yes," She sighed, blinking at him in surprise at his sudden concern. "I'm fine." The entirely emotionless response she gave wasn't completely lost on either David or her son.

"It's just, you look a bit pale and you haven't touched your ice cream."

It was then that Henry noticed it too, looking down at her small tub with a furrow between his brows. "Are you sick, mom? But you're never sick."

"I'm not sick, Henry." She smiled reassuringly, touching his cheek ever so briefly with the back of her fingers before hiding her hand in her lap. She hesitated for a moment, taking in a deep breath and avoiding the eyes of them both.

She'd agreed to the meeting so that she could see Henry and she'd almost convinced herself that she'd find a way to talk to David, but it was too difficult, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Hesitantly, she turned her eyes to Henry and offered him a shaky smile. "I'm proud of you, for your report card." She breathed, leaning over to press a kiss to his temple; grateful that in his confusion, he didn't pull away. "But I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Regina, wait!" David called, but she was out the door before he managed to finish her name; leaving behind a space in the booth next to Henry and an untouched Rocky-Road tub, dripping condensation onto the table-top.

Regina hadn't been so confused in a long time. She knew what she wanted, she knew what she'd always wanted and she knew that the things she'd done – since her chance at happiness had been denied – were unforgivable. But she wasn't asking to be forgiven; she knew that'd be too much. She asked simply to be redeemed. To prove the woman she'd always wanted to be was in there somewhere for the sake of her child.

She looked down, dropping herself into the plush sofa in her library with a heavy sigh. She felt so bereft. Henry was clearly fine, coping well with David; but she couldn't shake the bitterness that settled in her gut over her son sleeping in Mary-Margaret's home; in what was Emma's bed. She shook her head, pressing her hand to her stomach as she swallowed against the ache at the thought.

She jumped clean out of her skin when there was a loud knock on the door. She hesitated; staring at the entry to the library, hoping whoever it was would just go away. She wasn't fit to be seen. The nausea seemed to have passed, but she still couldn't work up the incentive to greet anyone. She didn't have the energy to pull her stoic mask into place.

"Regina," She startled when David appeared in the library. He looked worried – dare she admit it – and a little bit out of breath.

"David?" She breathed, pulling herself up from the sofa and straightening her blouse. "Where's Henry?"

"I left him with Ruby," He took a step towards her. "I thought, maybe if he wasn't here you'd tell me what's going on? iAre/i you sick?"

"Oh, because that would be so convenient, wouldn't it?" She huffed, storming passed him. "Hopefully the Evil Queen will become deathly ill, and if we're really lucky," She rolled her eyes storming into the kitchen. "Maybe she'll die and we won't have to lift a finger. Is that what they're all thinking?"

"What?" David was flabbergasted, following her through into the kitchen. "What, Regina? No."

She eyed him.

"Okay, you're not the most popular, I'll give you that."

She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Fine," David sighed, stepping up to her; moving into her personal space. Regina didn't back away, she wasn't afraid of him, but she didn't uncross her arms either. "At least; that's not what I'm thinking."

"And what are you thinking, David?"

"Truthfully," He looked down into her eyes, seeing – in his mind's eye – the smile she'd shared with him that one night. The one night he'd needed Mary-Margaret and she wasn't there, where Regina had taken him in, knowing he was playing pretend. He realized now that she'd known all along; she'd been the Evil Queen every moment of every day since they'd been trapped. But she'd seemed different that night – freer, somehow – and she'd even called out his name, at least it had sounded like his name. He'd heard the start but the rest had died in a gasp as he'd sucked on her bottom lip. "Regina," He reached out to grasp her elbows and she felt herself recoiling at the gesture, but she didn't move. "I don't know. I just know that I don't want you to be sick and I don't want you to die. Henry doesn't want you to die either."

He didn't mention how her eyes had tinged red just a little, how the corners had become glassy and how he noticed the dip of her throat as she swallowed. "Well," She straightened her shoulders. "I'm not sick."

He nodded slowly. "Then what happened? You were pale this afternoon."

Finally Regina did step back and turn away, unable to maintain the strong mask of the Queen as her thoughts twirled inside her head. Henry had asked her to help, to not use magic, to be better. He'd asked her to change, but what was he going to think? There was no way he was going to believe it was an accident. But it was. And for the first few hours she hadn't believed it to be possible. They'd been cursed, even her. Time was frozen, lives were frozen. No one came or went from Storybrooke and nothing changed. There were no new children at the school, no new people in the town.

And yet.

"Regina," David sighed and she could hear there was a certain level of concern in his voice. That night, he'd profusely declared how much he didn't love her and she'd passionately agreed how foolish the notion was. They'd agreed to pretend because he couldn't have Mary-Margaret and she was never going to see Daniel ever again.

But something had changed between them that night. It wasn't love, it couldn't be. But there was a connection that couldn't be denied. There was the overwhelming feeling that David needed her to be alright, even if he didn't understand it. "Please, Regina, you're scaring me. If you're not sick then how come..."

She cut him short as she turned around suddenly, the faintest of tears trickling down her cheek.

"I'm pregnant."

To Be Continued.