Author's Notes: Sorry for the short chapters. I have a habit of writing and rewriting paragraphs obsessively. Sometimes I just have to stop and publish a piece of story wherever I'm at, or I'll never be able to move on to the next. If you'd prefer I wait until I have a more substantial update, or many many chapters annoys you, drop me a review and say so.
She's traveled across realms many times by now, but the experience is still disorienting. Curses, it seems, are infinitely rougher than portals. As she tries to sit up in her old familiar bed she is suddenly overcome with a wave of dizziness and nausea. Closing her eyes against the rapidly spinning room she flops back onto her stack of pillows with a groan. A voice in her head warns that there is something decidedly off about this land, but she can't quite put her finger on exactly what that is just yet.
After a few deep breaths she opens her eyes and sits up once again. The room is dimly lit but still she can see that everything is essentially back the way she remembered it, as if the last year away has been nothing more than an impressively vivid dream. Hope flares briefly in her traitorously illogical heart, and she chokes out "Henry?" on a sob. "Henry!" she tries again with more force, and again, louder and more desperate. Again and again she cries his name, working herself into a frenzy, crescendoing up until her screams are almost blood curdling. If he were to somehow appear before her right now he would think her in a fit, her wild, tear-stained eyes hold the look of madness.
To her great disappointment however he doesn't. The pristine mansion is as silent as ever. "Of course not," she eventually scoffs. Dreams aren't for villains, only nightmares. She should know by now not to think any differently.
With a heavy sigh she pulls herself out of bed. Still a bit shaky, she has to lean on the frame for support as she sluggishly makes her way across the room to her window. The blinds are thrown back tentatively, she still has that nagging feeling of wrongness, but the cursed town stretches out before her once again. It's eerily foggy today, she can't see far, but the shapes and shadows of the modern buildings are familiar, and she has no doubt that the ocean lies just beyond them, vast and timeless, waiting to swallow her whole should she foolishly decide to travel outside the desolate gloom.
She shuffles to her large closet and has to sit a minute before she finally pulls down a jacket and a matching skirt. The fashion of this land is quite plain and ordinary, and she finds that she both misses and does not miss her queenly regalia. Her stiff studded collars made her feel powerful and important, but there's something to be said for blending in. For being able, for a moment, to forget….
Feeling a bit stronger now she makes her way into the bathroom. Blending in is one thing, but it's quite another to present oneself as a completely disheveled wreck. The motions are old and automatic, and she finds calmness in the everyday mundane. Soon a new face emerges in the mirror. Maybe not a fairytale queen perhaps, but at least a highly capable mayor. Or maybe Snow's the mayor now, who knows. In either case at least she no longer looks like a bleary-eyed, down trodden peasant. She'll be damned if she ever gives off the vibe that she's not in complete control. That kind of weakness is dangerous.
Her phone rings then and she nearly jumps out of her skin. That little piece of technology was of course not present in her previous realm. With a grunt at her own edginess and a roll of her eyes she snatches the device off the nightstand. "Hello?" she demands. The voice on the other end of the line almost breaks her heart, so full of anguish it sounds when it says her name.
"Regina…" There is a long pause between them, and she can't think of anything to say, can only listen to Snow's ragged breathing. "It worked," Snow finally mutters defeatedly, and all Regina can respond with is "Yes".
Another long pause and Regina manages to get out "I'll be right over," as Snow wordlessly hangs up. Not yet 100% and still a bit uneasy Regina struggles to hurriedly pull on shoes and rummage around for her keys. She can't help a glance at Henry's bedroom as she passes it in the hallway. Although now empty, she is relieved to find that it is still there, just as he left it. She's not sure she could have taken it if this new curse didn't return it intact. The storybook she remembers Pan (not Henry, she thinks ruefully) questioning her about is suspiciously absent, and briefly she wonders if the little bastard or his shadow took it, but she doesn't have time to question that right now.
She's able to make it down the stairs and out to her vehicle without incident. As she twists the key in the ignition the old Mercedes sputters repeatedly before finally springing to life, and she wonders just what exactly she should say to Snow White. Nothing she's considering can possibly make things better, she knows this for a fact. Still, she hopes that her stepdaughter will prove to be a bit more resilient than she was, that unlike her, she will be able to endure her own great loss somewhat intact. She's not counting on it though, and mindful of the thick gray fog that has yet to dissipate, she presses the accelerator down heavily.