Title: Caught Painting a Dotted Line… (3/?)
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Pairing: Swan Queen (Emma Swan/Regina Mills)
Spoiler/Warning: Up till 1.21 – An Apple Red as Blood. Canon till 1.21 with slight AU happenings, veers off canon after 1.21.
Summary: Regina is pregnant. Henry eats the turnover. And there is angst, and forgiveness is not really on the horizon right away. Or something like that. I've never written a worse summary in my life.
Disclaimer: This is purely fictional. I own none of it.
[…]
A/N: I am so sorry for this very late update. I was rather stuck on this chapter. Actually, I was very much stuck. I'm still not satisfied with a lot of things in it but I don't see it going anywhere if I spend more time staring at the screen and willing. So here it is. Thank you to all of you who read and liked the previous chapters. I really hope you like this one, too. Feedback will be appreciated.
[…]
Regina's mind raced as she connected the dots but something inside her refused to accept it. What were the chances that the little bit of magic that she had left, and the unique power that only Emma — albeit unaware at that time — possessed had combined in some way to make this happen? No, magical babies were tricky, and did not just happen. Even Rumplestiltskin with all his dark power could not have made this happen. A baby was something too pure, too good to be made so idly.
For magical babies you needed more than just magic, you needed goodness, strength, power, and — most important of all — you needed love, and any way she reviewed it, her relationship — if it was even to be called that — with the Sheriff was anything but, even if considered in the most fairest of lights. Love didn't fit the bill. Did it?
That this happened must mean there was something there, even though the concept was one she wasn't very eager to visit. A baby with Emma Swan was the last thing she would have considered. Ever. Sharing one son with her was more than she could handle. Would the woman even believe if she told her what had happened? That she was having her baby?
Did that mean Emma was — no, True Love didn't just sell in the market wholesale, so that you could go and buy one when you wanted. Her True Love had been, will always be Daniel, and he was long gone.
But then a slight feeling of heaviness in her abdomen brought her thoughts back to the baby. A baby. Her baby. She was going to have a baby. A tiny, little human being. She felt the warm tears trickle out of her eyes and into the hair at her temple.
"Madam Mayor?" Dr. Whale's voice jolted her out of her reverie.
"Yes," she said, her voice a little hoarse with emotion.
"I trust you have listened to all my instructions? They are very important to ensure your health and the baby's."
She nodded, her mind still too preoccupied to say anything.
"I'll ask Nurse Hanson to keep checking on you."
That rankled a little. "That won't be necessary."
"I'm sure it won't, but better to be safe than sorry."
"Dr. Whale," she stopped him as he started to move towards the door. He looked at her questioningly.
"Henry—?"
"I'll make sure he comes to see you as soon as he wakes up, don't you worry."
She swallowed and nodded. He went out and she was left with Nurse Hanson who fussed over her blanket and her IV before leaving, closing the door behind her, and Regina was left alone.
She waited, her eyes fixed on the clock on the wall, counting every second, refusing to sleep. An hour passed, and then another. Her heart grew heavier and heavier with every second, sure that Henry had refused to come see her, that he hated her even more. What if he never wanted to see her ever again? What if Emma had taken him and was halfway across the continent by now? What if he had fallen asleep and wasn't waking up ever again? The thought jolted her out of the half-stupor she had receded into while staring at the ticking clock and imagining scenarios in her head.
This wouldn't do! She couldn't sit here like this, agonizing over the worst case scenarios. She had to go see her son, if only to put her mind at ease. She had to know he was okay, and hearing it wasn't enough, she had to go see with her own eyes. Dr. Whale would understand, and even if he didn't, what did he know about mothers with children, anyway?
First she pulled out the IV, and then, one by one, she took off the oximeter and all the other things that were monitoring her body. And then she made herself sit up even though her whole body screamed with pain, her legs tangled in the drab hospital gown they had given her, refusing to budge but somehow she managed to move a little at a time. She stood up and for a moment the world seemed to tilt dangerously around her as her vision darkened, but she grabbed the bed to steady herself. And then she made herself walk, step by slow, agonizing step, to the door.
She opened it and peeked outside to find the nurse snoozing at the Nurses' Counter, and an empty corridor. Thanking the heavens above, she slowly trudged her way out of her room and up the corridor, peering into rooms along the way to look for her son as she went, resolutely ignoring the spikes of pain that were beginning to grow sharper and sharper at every step.
But it became harder as she went on. She could feel a coldness creep up her limbs as their strength ebbed, cold sweat forming on her body. She felt light-headed, and the pain threatened to take over at every step. Halfway through, it became too much. Her hand, gripping the ice-cold white wall, began to shake and slip. She wasn't sure if she would be able to make it to another step or not.
[...]
Emma was coming back from the vending machines when she saw ahead of her a very familiar head of dark hair above a very unflattering hospital gown, and a hand clutching at the wall of the hallway. Even from this distance she could see the legs trembling. Emma hissed in annoyance, discarding her half-finished coffee into the nearest trash can and rushing forward.
"What are you doing out here, Regina?"
Emma grabbed her elbow when she reached her, turning her around and scowling.
It took Emma a moment to take in the mayor's appearance. There were bags under her eyes and her usually glowing olive skin was close to chalky white. Sweat beaded her forehead and her upper lip. Her teeth were clenched with the effort of standing upright, lips peeled back, her breathing labored and shallow as she clutched at the wall with a shaking hand, trying to hold herself up on her shaky legs. Emma could feel her leaning into her support.
"Where do you think you're going? You're supposed to be in bed! Resting!"
"I need to see Henry." Each word was spoken with a great deal of effort from between a tightly clenched jaw.
Emma glared at her. "Do you think that's the best idea?"
"Please, Emma," a pleading note entered her voice. "I just need to see him." Her hand gave away and she started to slip down.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!"
And Emma reached out and picked her up with surprising ease, one hand under her knees, the other wrapped around her shoulder.
"No!" Regina struggled to get back down. "No, please. I need to see Henry. Please. Emma."
"Lady, either you are delirious or very much drugged because you just called me Emma. Twice."
"Let me down!" said Regina, bunching up Emma's leather jacket in fists, punching her and failing to cause any harm at all with her weak blows.
"Oh, do be quiet, Madam Mayor — or should I say 'your Majesty'?"
That effectively shut Regina up. Emma traipsed up the length of the corridor towards Henry's room, expertly nudged the door open with her hip, and deposited Regina on the chair that lay beside the bed. Henry hadn't woken up yet. His pale, thin, slumbering form was all Regina had eyes for. She tried to get up again, to touch him but the pressure of Emma's hand on her shoulder made her sit back down.
"Don't push it," said Emma but then she found two tear-filled brown eyes gazing up at her and she sighed. "Fine, wait a sec, okay?" She pushed the chair forward so that Regina could be nearer Henry. "You will not get up from this chair until I'm back, okay?"
Regina absently nodded, eyes still fixed on Henry, hands smoothing hair back from his forehead.
"I'll go get a wheelchair for you. Try not to turn him into a toad or something while I'm gone."
"You're not remotely funny, Miss Swan."
"You should be thanking God, your Majesty, that I'm making jokes about it, and that's the only thing I'm doing!"
For a moment the seething fury Emma had managed to suppress in the pit of her stomach since last night bubbled to the top, making her voice shake a little. She took a deep breath to calm herself as Regina bit her lip, looking down, fists clenched.
"I'll be right back," said Emma, voice controlled, before turning and leaving the room.
[...]
"You should be getting back to your own room."
Emma's voice made Regina look up and realize that more than half an hour had passed.
"I just got here," Regina said.
"You are in no condition for sitting bedside vigils," Emma told her.
"Just a little while more."
"I'll bring him over when he wakes up."
"Will you?" Regina said. It wasn't a question.
Emma sighed.
"Regina, don't make me carry you again, because I will, if you don't get into that wheel chair right now."
"You're — Dr. Whale said you're taking him away today." Regina looked at her questioningly.
"Yes, I am."
The finality in Emma's voice made words like 'don't' and 'you can't' die on her tongue before she could speak them out loud. This was one battle she would lose, she realized, because she was in no condition to fight it. "Where—?" was all she could manage.
"Mary Margaret's. For now, at least."
"You can't—"
"You're in no position —" Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "He needs someone to take care of him, and you can't do that right now."
"You won't leave Storybrooke?" And that wasn't a question, either. It sounded more like a request.
"I can't, can I?" Emma snapped, her patience wavering thin. "There's work to do, curses to break. Now get into that chair." The last bit was said with much greater force than before.
"I — all right," Regina finally admitted defeat, but it was partly because she was suddenly feeling very, very tired, and slightly dizzy — and partly because Emma's immediate presence, her arguments, her judgments were making her feel weak and empty. Her worlds were colliding and falling apart and there was nothing she could do, and even if there was, she was in no fit state to do it.
She kissed Henry's forehead one last time. Emma helped her get into the wheel chair and began to wheel her out. They made their way across the corridor quietly, Emma with her angry silence, Regina deep in thought. Emma seemed to be coping with the concepts of magic and curses but Regina had realized just how deep her anger and resentment ran, and what were the chances that it would get better from there? But she needed to know, didn't she?
So Regina gathered her courage as Emma wheeled her into her room and helped her settle on her bed. How hard can it be to tell someone you are going to have their baby? Surely they were capable of handling the situation like mature adults?
"Uh, I—" Regina began, unsure of herself, and consequently irritated with herself that she was. "We need to talk."
"What's there to talk about?" Emma's voice was still gruff.
Henry. Regina wanted to say. His future. Us. Your baby that I'm carrying. Our baby.
But then she looked at Emma's stiff, stubborn face, and any statements she might have wanted to make clogged up in her throat, refusing to be uttered. How do you broach such things with the mother of your son? That she is the soon-to-be mother of the child magically implanted inside you the night you two had supposedly meaningless sex, about two months ago? Especially when she has recently and suddenly discovered the truth behind your carefully crafted exterior? And the very fact that Emma had decided to still stay in one room with her, to let Regina see the son who almost just died because of her, to let Regina touch him again — all those things made her want to lie low and let this haphazard peace grow between the two of them. God knew she would need it soon once the weakening curse broke.
Regina told herself it was necessary, that Emma wouldn't believe her anyway. She found it hard to believe, and she had grown up with magic, spent all her life with it. Something told her that once again she had made the wrong decision, that she would regret it but Regina just kept her mouth shut and watched as Emma opened the door to leave, but then Emma turned around, chewing her lip and looked for a moment at Regina with a gaze that made her feel very uncomfortable.
"So I hear congratulations are in order," Emma said.
Regina sighed inwardly because the look on Emma's face was anything but congratulatory.
"You're having a baby," Emma went on when she got no response.
"Yes," Regina said finally.
"Well, good for you," Emma said, half-turned to leave, and then turned back.
"So whose is it?"
Regina almost winced at the crude question but she could sense the undercurrent of emotion behind it.
"It shouldn't concern you," she said, finding it a little difficult to sound the words.
"Two months, Dr. Whale said," Emma's voice was a little louder now. "Two months. Tell me, Regina, who else were you screwing when you slept with me? Were you cheating on him with me? Or was he another one-night stand?"
"Emma!"
"That was probably why you never picked it up again, where we left off, isn't it? Even though I tried. You already had someone in your life!"
"That's enough!" said Regina, realizing that perhaps the curse wasn't the only reason behind Emma's anger and resentment.
"You were already screwing someone else! Was he good, Regina? Did he satisfy you? Was he that good that you let him get you pregnant!"
"Stop it!"
"No, dammit, I really want to know—"
"There was — there is no one else."
"I don't fucking believe you! You can't deny the evidence growing in your belly—"
"There was no one."
"You're having his baby!"
"It's yours, damn you! It's your baby!"
[...]
A/N: So. I thought Regina was a bit OOC in the whole thing, I thought she should have a bit more fight in her, but I just couldn't make that happen. When I talked to my beta, she told me off and said that Regina is supposed to be OOC — she's pregnant, she just poisoned her son and he's being taken away from her. She's hormonal, scared and rattled. It'll be OOC if she's not OOC. It did make sense, then. Sharing this because it was important for me to make this distinction, and you probably don't know why I am rambling on, so I'll shut up. Can't wait to know what you guys think of the chapter, though. xD