Notes: thanks for your patience and all your lovely comments. huge thanks again to race and wapwani, you two are the best. Lily is my own version, and she's canon divergent, especially what happened with her adoptive parents. Regina also didn't drink the infertility potion (from ep 4x20) in this story because I didn't know about it when I started writing. Make of that what you will. ;)
Emma pushed up Regina's wet sleeve, exposing the angry red on her arm where her skin protested the hot liquid. Lily, Maleficent's daughter, the daughter who'd been lost all her life, came back with a cold, damp towel and pressed it against Regina's arm.
"Sorry, I wasn't expecting you to stand up," Lily said, meeting Regina's eyes. "Good thing it was the coffee not your tea though."
"Yes," Regina answered, without know why she'd said it. She looked desperately at Emma, needing her to speak because she couldn't trust her own voice.
"It's fine, I think she's just startled," Emma said, taking over holding the towel against Regina's arm. She too looked at Regina, then met Lily's eyes. "Thanks."
"I'll get you another drink," Lily said, looking between them as if something had made her wonder.
Emma sat down across from Regina, urging her to sit, and she laid her arm on the table, still holding the towel against it. It didn't really hurt, and Regina was sure it would be fine, but it was easier to let Emma worry about it, to stare at her reddened skin, than to stare at Lily. The coffee shop was quiet, an elderly woman read the paper over her pot of tea, and a few others worked on their laptops on the far side of the room. No one paid them any attention while Lily got the mop and cleaned the floor.
She returned with a latte, carefully avoiding Regina's side of the table, and set it in front of Emma, who thanked her, because Emma had more control over her shock.
"You saw the mark on her wrist," Regina whispered, staring at Emma. "It's just like the one in her file."
Emma's eyes went wide, and she let go of Regina's arm and the towel, then picked up the folder. She paged through until she reached the pictures of young Lily, then dropped it. "I know her."
"Yes, it's her," Regina insisted, trying not to stare at Lily while she talked to another customer.
"No, this Lily, she's my friend. I mean, she was my friend, when I was younger, the one I told you about," Emma said, keeping her voice low, but now she stared over Regina, watching Lily make drinks behind the espresso machine.
"Your friend Lily is- was- is Mal's daughter?" her voice cracked as she whispered. Regina shook her head, of course she was. Fate, or whatever it was that had a hand in all of their lives, had brought her Emma's son, and that power had drawn Emma and Lily together, even across this realm.
"She's older, I guess we're both are," Emma said softly, and she took her gaze away from Lily, looking at Regina. "She's wearing the same necklace. I didn't see it until she was mopping the floor."
Regina leaned closer, nearly resting her head against Emma's shoulder. "What do we do?"
"Drink your tea," Emma said, taking the map of the city out of her pocket. The paper map was out of place because everyone used their phones, but Emma had bought it because it might be useful. Now Emma used it as an excuse, pointing at places that meant nothing. "We don't want to frighten her."
"How do we even talk to her?"
"Carefully," Emma said. "Look at the map, take a few deep breaths. We know where she works. We'll sit for awhile and see if she has the time to talk to use. I'll ask her a question about the city."
Turning her hand, Regina grabbed Emma's free one beneath the table and held it, tight. "You know her, what was she like?" She had to know something, anything, because this woman was her daughter and she knew so little.
"Sad," Emma whispered, pointing at another part of the map as if it meant something. "She had a lot of issues with her adoptive parents. Told me they kicked her out, but I don't think that was it. The last time I saw her we were both in a group home and they were making her attend the grief counselling sessions. Something might have happened to her parents, they usually don't make you go to those unless you've had something pretty bad."
Regina's eyes stung, and she leaned closer to Emma, because she didn't know how to possibly explain that looking at a map would have that kind of emotional impact. She hid her eyes, leaning close. Emma ran her hand over hers, trying to calm her.
"Maybe she's happier now, hopefully her life's improved." Emma's optimism was sweet, and appreciated, but Regina knew in her gut that Lily's life would be empty, lacking. Emma hadn't been happy, couldn't have been out in this world, away from her family. Lily would have known a similar misery, never fitting, never belonging, perhaps never even trusting that her adoptive parents loved her. Remembering when Henry had pulled away, Regina's heart twisted. Her daughter had been so alone, even with a family. How could they bring her home? What would it take to help her feel loved? How could they make her safe?
When she looked up again, Lily was gone and a different woman stood behind the counter. Panic rose cold in her stomach. "Where?"
"She's on her break," Emma said, easing the knot in Regina's throat. "She went outside, I'll go." She kissed Regina's forehead, trying to soften her concern. "Drink your tea."
Staring at the green liquid, she thought of Henry, and how hard she'd worked to make sure he was loved. He knew that, he'd doubted her, but he knew now. What had Lily and her parents gone through? What had happened without her there? Emma had brought Henry back, helped bring them closer. Lily had no one. She hadn't trusted her adoptive parents, hadn't trusted her teachers, hadn't ever felt like she was home.
Emma understood that. She'd reach her, and bring Lily back. That was what Emma did, finding those who were lost.
Emma followed her outside and around the back when Lily went out for a cigarette. She'd seen that coming, Emma would want to talk to her, alone, where no one was watching. She had to be her, Emma Swan: her only friend, who'd apparently grown up well and got a hot girlfriend who had expensive taste in clothes, but seemed nice. She was probably an angel, because Emma had that kind of luck. At least, maybe now she did. She'd been pretty pissed the last time they'd seen each other. Lily was ready to run, bolt, tell her job that her abusive ex had turned up and she just had to go. It didn't matter if they didn't believe her, there was always another minimum wage job. She knew how to make coffee now, that was pretty practical. She'd find another job doing that, easy.
But Emma wasn't pissed. She even smiled a little, and it was so easy to see her how she'd been, years ago. Her face was older, her hair was longer, but her eyes were the same.
"Are you going to tell me to quit?" Lily asked, taking a drag of her cigarette. Emma, of course, wouldn't smoke, but she didn't look judgemental.
"Would you listen?" Emma teased, leaning on the wall next to her.
"Depends on who's telling me," she replied, and for some reason that made Emma smile.
"A friend?"
Lily shook her head, but she had to return Emma's smile. "I'll think about it."
"Good," Emma said, crossing her arms over her chest. "It would be nice if you were around for awhile. I know some people who are waiting to meet you."
Stubbing her cigarette out, she dropped it into the trash. "Did you get converted or something, join a happy cult? Twelve step programme?"
"You wouldn't believe me." Emma offered her a hand back up to her feet.
Lily took it, and Emma's hand was strong, like she remembered. "You'll have to show me?" she asked, too afraid to hope. No one wanted her. She didn't have a criminal record, nothing that had stuck, anyway. She didn't have an exes who knew where to find her. No one would be looking for her.
Emma's smile faded, and her green eyes got that sympathetic look. The one that came before pain. "I can, if you want."
"What?"
Taking out her phone, Emma tapped it, and then held it, waiting. "Someone asked me to find you."
"Like who?" Lily asked, rubbing her hands against her jeans. "The Tooth Fairy?"
"Taller," Emma said. Her phone chirped, and she nodded to herself. "You told me, once, a long time ago, that you remembered what your birth mother looked like."
Shaking her head and walking away, Lily wished there was anywhere she could go away from Emma, but the little alley was small, and her only escape would be back into the shop. "I was stupid. She abandoned me as an infant. I can't possibly remember."
"You drew pictures of her," Emma continued, taking a step closer to her without being menacing. "You showed me. They were good pictures, and you had them everywhere. Her eyes, her hands, the way she smiled."
"She's not real, okay?" Lily closed the distance between them, and to her surprise, now she looked down at Emma, when the last time they'd been that close, she'd been taller. "She's something I made up, something I convinced myself that I remembered because I wanted to have a connection. I spent years in therapy and took a lot of pills to be able to say that. You'd know that if you'd stuck around, been my friend, like you said you would."
"I'm sorry," Emma said, and dammit, Lily wanted to believe her. "I'm sorry for more than I can tell you. A lot more, but for now, look at this picture and tell me you don't recognise this woman. If you don't, I'll go. I won't bother you, but I think she's your birth mother."
"I don't know what you're on, or what kind of whack-job cult you've joined-" Lily began, trying to push past Emma, because being in the cafe and looking like an idiot was better than breaking down in an alley. Her birth mother was a fantasy, something her mind had come up with to try and cope with her fear of rejection, of abandonment, and the death of her adoptive parents. She didn't have a mother; she had no one.
"Hey, hey," Emma said, catching her arm. "Have I ever lied to you?"
She hadn't. She wouldn't. Emma Swan was the kind of heroic idiot that only lived in fairy tales. She was too good, by far, so she shouldn't have been here, not promising what couldn't be- but might be- true. Lily's thoughts warred with possibilities: no one loved her, her mother was a bitter trick of Lily's battered mind, and Emma didn't lie to her. Emma didn't hurt her, not until she fucked things up first. She wasn't entirely sure what trust was like, but if she were to trust anyone, she'd pick Emma.
Emma said she had a mother. She promised. Her mother was right there, on Emma's phone, and all she had to do was look at the screen. She couldn't look, of course she couldn't. Lily knew no one loved her, no one wanted her, and those who had: died.
"Just look at her, if you don't know her, I'll go."
Lily wanted to beg her to stay, which was ridiculous, because Emma didn't live here. She had a life, somewhere with her pretty girlfriend, and she'd get back to it. Lily would get back to her stupid job and her empty house and waiting for her life to quietly pass, while everyone else lived. She didn't fit with people, so she stayed out of the way, let them get on with it. It had worked, sort of, she didn't annoy anyone, no one got close and she didn't lose anyone, not how she'd lost her parents.
What if she didn't know her? What if the memory she'd clung to all of her life was wrong? Her mind came up with a hundred reason why this too would end in pain, but Lily reached for the phone. She'd always been too impulsive, too much of an idiot just to give up hope, and this time-
She looked at the kid first. Brown hair, green eyes, growing into his face, and wise looking, like he knew more than he'd say. He leaned in close to the woman, who looked into the camera in confusion, like she was surprised, or unsure what he was doing. She was beautiful, almost aristocratic, or ethereal, like she'd walked out of a story. Which she had, because she couldn't exist. Those blue eyes couldn't be that colour, that shade, and her mouth, it couldn't- She couldn't exist. She couldn't be.
She started to drop the phone, and Emma went for it, but Lily clutched it to her chest, terrified of losing this woman like a mirage. She wasn't, couldn't, but she was there, captured on the screen. The kid had a little smile, and he pointed at the camera. She- her mother- was looking at the camera for him, because he wanted her too. Lily clung to the phone, even as her tears marred the picture. The screen shut itself off, taking the picture away, but she was already seared into Lily's memory. She'd always been there. Her mother was a dream, a nightmare, a ghost of what might have been, but she'd been there, with the kid, and the sun behind them in a kitchen. She wasn't above her in the darkness, wrapped in light, how she always was in Lily's memory. This was real, now, somewhere, real, and Emma knew. Emma had spoken to her, let herself be sent.
Emma knew her mother.
Emma knew-
And Emma held her tight when her legs had forgotten how to stand.
Emma's pretty girlfriend, the one who dressed as if she'd walked out of a fashion spread, even on a road trip, smoothed everything over. She explained something to Lily's boss, kept her from being fired, and then sat in the passenger seat, coaxing directions for them to Lily's house while Emma drove.
Lily knew where she lived, she did, but it didn't matter. Her mother was real, and she was out there, with the kid, Henry. Emma's son, that she shared with Regina, was sitting with her mother right now, across the country, in a kitchen in Maine. They had just finished dinner and were washing up.
Regina spoke easily while Emma drove, calm and collected as she talked about Storybrooke, their tiny town, and what Lily's mother, Mal, her mother, and Henry would be doing. Her mother didn't cook much, but she liked to grill, so Henry and her had barbecued twice already this week. Regina talked about it all so easily, as if it was something that happened every day. Lily's mother had a name, spent time with people, talked and laughed and got along with Henry.
Lily's mind took in facts that she couldn't acknowledge: Henry was fourteen, which meant Emma must have had him young, maybe too young, but they were together now, and Regina loved the kid. They worked together and took care of their little town and were happy. Stupidly happy, by the way they looked at each other, and Emma reached for Regina's knee whenever she sounded sad. Which she did, a lot, because everything Lily said about her tragic, empty little life, got to her. That didn't make any sense, because they'd just met, but maybe Regina felt things in a way Emma and Lily didn't, couldn't, because they'd been abandoned too many times to allow themselves that kind of vulnerability.
They pulled into the driveway of Connie and Carlos, her parents' house, and it sat there, big and empty behind a few trees. It always looked empty. Lily had tried leaving some lights on when she came home, but she knew they were fake, so she let it be dark. It was a big, grand old house, nice porch, plenty of bedrooms that had never been used. Carlos and Connie Page had wanted several kids, once, then they got Lily and she was so much trouble that they never had another, so the rooms were empty. One had a piano that Lily had never really learned to play, there was Connie's office, Carlos's painting room, Lily's play room and her room. None of the rooms ever really served their purpose. Connie had to do her work at work, because home was too stressful. Carlos barely got to paint because Lily always needed help with her homework, to be picked up from detention, or dropped off at yet another therapist who could rid her of the notion of her beautiful birth mother, her sad eyes and soft blonde hair.
Connie and Carlos had both had brown hair, Connie's was nearly black, and brown eyes and they had looked so much more like Lily than the her dream of her mother. They had been good people, had been kind, patient caregivers, but the voice in the back of her mind that insisted, more than anything, that she knew her mother and Connie wasn't her, had ruined it. Lily tried to forget about the idea, bury it, forget her mother, but doing that only made her more miserable, and that meant she had to take different pills, more pills, and try something else, maybe a different school- So she'd been quiet, never mentioned her mother, she drew and doodled and told herself stories on scraps of paper. She hid them, burned her journals, because they wanted to be her parents so badly that she had to let them. She went through the motions, called them 'mom and dad', smiled, talked about college, and then they'd gone camping, because families did that. It was great: for two nights she didn't dream of her mother, didn't wake up panting and sweating because her mother was gone, and on the third, she'd woken up in the hospital, surrounded by very concerned, kind people who did their best to tell her that it wasn't her fault that her parents were dead.
Freak electrical storm, irresponsible other campers, one poorly extinguished cigarette, and a forest fire destroyed what they'd been trying to build together. The people who wanted so desperately to be her parents burned to death, a few feet away, probably trying to save her, while she slept through it and woke up unscarred. Maybe it had been wet under her tent, or perhaps the wind, or the way it was in a hollow of the ground. She didn't even have a mark on her skin, and they were dead.
She inherited the house, their insurance, their retirement funds, her college fund: everything they'd built to give to her came early, and the state held it, because she was too young and she bounced from group home to group home, tried to finish high school because if she just did that, maybe they'd leave her alone. That was a low enough bar that she could cross it, and just get a job and disappear. Live in her big, empty house and work for terrible money because she didn't need it. She could have gone to a nice university, been someone, studied something more than how to make a good cocktail and what kind of business people wanted which kind of bartender to hand them their martini. Lily never did, because going to university would have been a waste of their money and the university's time because she'd never amount to anything. Her life was a placeholder, marking time until her unimportant death.
She'd thought Emma understood that, hated her like everyone else, but she didn't. Emma Swan, perfectly wonderful Emma, had found her to bring her to her mother. Lily fumbled with her own keys and finally had to hand them to Emma because her hands shook. Regina touched her back, so lightly that someone else wouldn't have noticed, but Lily touched, and was touched, so rarely that her body vibrated as if she'd been struck. Except, this was nice. Regina's hand was steadying.
She and Emma said the right nice things about the house, and Carlos had chosen beautiful, bright paintings to be on the walls, and the furniture was still kind of new because Lily dusted and vacuumed more than she used any of it it. The kitchen was so empty that Regina emerged from it with tears in her eyes. Connie had all the nice stuff that made food: graters and peelers, a spice rack, and she knew what everything did, told stories with her hands while she threw spices in. All the spices were probably too old to use, because Lily dusted the rack and their little wooden lids, but she didn't cook with them. She had cereal, toast, oatmeal, sandwiches from the shop down the road, leftovers, pizza, chinese, anything that came into the house ready to eat or required no more effort than heating up.
Carlos and Connie had loved cooking. They stood in the kitchen, talking and drinking wine, trying to draw her in and involved her in the blissful dance that made their food. She'd tried, and she'd started to understand some of it, the smell of onions in hot oil, chiles stinging her fingertips, and noise, because Connie always filled the kitchen with music and laughter. Then they were gone, taken, and the kitchen went quiet and cold.
Lily used the microwave, sometimes the stove, and the rest of it existed, caught in limbo because Lily didn't make life with her food, didn't bring light into the house. Lily just was, but her parents, they'd lived.
And died.
She'd had more than ten years to try and reconcile that, make sense of the way that the people she'd finally started to love in return, left. Like her mother had left. She'd been snatched by someone, taken from her mother, from that sad, beautiful face. Then death took her parents, and left her again: alone, unwanted, and alive, which felt like the greater tragedy.
Emma and Regina talked in whispers, then Emma touched her face, because they were like that, like her parents had been. Like Lily never was, even when she wanted desperately to be in love. Then Regina took the car keys and Emma went over the map one more time and Regina left, driving to the grocery store because there wasn't food in the house. Lily would have just gotten something delivered; because she had most of the menus committed to memory, but Regina wanted to cook. She'd give life to Lily's ghostly kitchen, if only for a night.
Which left Emma, who stood in her hallway, hands in her pockets. "She's a good cook."
"Anyone's better than me," Lily said, heading into the kitchen just long enough to grab the scotch. She took two glasses as well and led Emma through the unused living room (sometimes she watched TV, but just to have voices in the house). "I still keep all my stuff in my room. I don't have to, I know no one's going to see it, but it feels wrong, somehow, having pictures of her in my parents' house. I mean, they weren't-"
"Maybe they were your parents, if they felt like it" Emma said, following her up the quiet stairs. "Blood doesn't make families."
Nodding, Lily let her into the spare bedroom that had become her cave. She'd kept it locked while her parents were alive, and they hadn't pushed her, maybe because they knew that this was something she needed. They didn't need to see, and they did her the courtesy of not asking.
Emma didn't need to ask. She knew the drawings when Lily turned on the lights. Recognition made her eyes soft, and her lips opened in surprise. She knew Lily's mother. Knew the hundreds of version of her face that Lily couldn't stop drawing. She'd seen her eyes, held her hands, touched her skin and heard her voice.
Lifting one of Lily's drawings, Emma stared at the paper, and the many more beneath it. "How many times have you drawn her?"
"I couldn't get her eyes right, I mean, I couldn't even draw, but I kept trying." She shrugged, looking down at the charcoal, the pencil; all the different mediums she'd used to try and get the image of her mother out of her head. "It got easier, I got better. I finally managed to make some of them look like her."
Sorting through her drawings, Emma nodded, looking at one, then another. She finally looked up, smiling. "You got good."
Lily's face went hot. "Not really."
"I've seen your mother smile like this," Emma said, choosing one of the charcoal drawings from the far side of the table. "How did you know what she looked like?"
"She's in my head," Lily said, staring down and trying not to feel like an idiot, though she did. "I know I shouldn't know, that I can't possibly remember, but I see her. Once I started drawing her, it was better. I could sleep. I used to come in here and imagine she was smiling at me. Maybe she did."
Emma's hand rested on her shoulder, and Lily's eyes stung. She hated herself for showing any sign of weakness, always had, but she couldn't lock herself down in front of Emma. Emma knew how she felt. She'd been there, been that lost. Emma understood.
"She loves you, your mom loves you so much that she-" Emma stopped and whatever she bit back hurt her. "She would give anything to be here."
Her chest was sore, heavy and she tried to smile. "What, she doesn't do road trips?"
"Something like that," Emma replied. She lay the drawing back down and brought her eyes to meet Lily's. "I can't tell you now. I wish I could but-"
"But?"
Emma crossed her arms over her chest. "You wouldn't believe me."
"Why wouldn't I?" Lily wiped her eyes. "You've seen my life. Big empty house, dead end job, don't have any friends, I can barely keep a houseplant alive. If there's a point to my life, I think I've missed it."
Emma touched her arms, holding her almost close, almost like a friend. No one held her, no one even touched her, because she wasn't important. She was no one's family. When she'd tried, really tried: she'd failed. People who got close to her got hurt. "Your mother loves you and has been waiting all your life to see you. Believe me. I know it sounds crazy. My kid, the kid I gave up so he could have a better life, showed up at my apartment one night, and I thought he was crazy, and I was crazy for following him, for hoping, but I met my parents, I met Henry and Regina. I have a family." She paused, smiling with the kind of hope Lily never allowed herself. "You have a family, and I'm going to bring you home."
Already in her pyjamas, Regina crawled into the blankets in Lily's guest room while Emma brushed her teeth. They'd eaten dinner together in a strange, almost family manner. Lily was funny, shy, and so very hungry as she watched Regina and Emma talk. Her eyes followed them as if she had been starving and they offered her food. She watched them touch as if she'd been alone for such a long time that she'd forgotten what it felt like to have someone's hand on hers. When Emma did the dishes, Lily had sat on the counter, watching with scotch in her hand as Emma and Regina talked about nothing important. They spoke of Henry, of Emma's baby brother and how he'd started crawling on his belly. Lily had an odd look on her face when she realised that Emma's brother was so much younger than her, but she didn't ask. Maybe she didn't want to ruin whatever spell she was under.
Regina tried not to push, not to be too curious, but as they ate, Lily opened her life. She lived alone, didn't have much for friends, worked because it kept her busy and sometimes drew other people, or landscapes. Her hobbies were solitary ones, and the way she looked at Emma when she smiled- Regina knew loneliness with the intimacy of an old lover. She'd been empty, isolated, far from everyone who cared about her because she'd pushed them all away, never let them in.
Holding back her tears all through dinner gave her a headache, and Emma and Lily shared scotch while Regina drank tea and tried not to think about the misery her daughter had lived through. After a few drinks. Lily brought Regina up to her room full of drawings and she had cried, because Lily had seen so many parts of Mal, as if she knew her. Somehow, having only seen her with an infant's eyes, Lily had captured her hands and the softness of her smile when she was truly happy. Maybe she had been, holding her daughter, before she was taken.
The knot in her stomach was worse than nausea tonight, because it was emotion, not those damn pills, that churned beneath her chest. Lily had been so loved, but lost her parents twice over and she needed to be loved so badly now that it was all Regina could do not to hold her and cry into her shoulder. Lily wasn't Henry. She couldn't make this easier with a spell, or take away the fear in her heart. Mal loved their daughter, and she'd make it work, because she'd been waiting for her for decades. Regina had only know of her existence for a few months: how could she begin to fill the void in Lily's life? She needed to know she was safe, that she could let herself love without knowing that the people she cared about would be lost. These were hard lessons; Regina had only just started to hope that anyone but Henry could love her unconditionally when dragon fire burned away her doubts.
Emma loved her, and that was as true as the blood in her veins. They'd built a family, a strange one with a dragon and their little prince and Emma's parents, but it was theirs. That family could accept Lily too; bring her in. Regina pulled the blankets closer, curling into a ball as she tried to warm up. Emma crawled in next to her, and her warmth made the bed immediately more habitable. She wrapped herself around Regina, her arms on her stomach and the trembling Regina had held so tightly inside began to fade.
"It's okay," Emma whispered, kissing the back of her neck. "It's okay."
Clinging to Emma's arms, she pressed her body against the warmth of Emma's chest and the familiar gentle sound of her breathing filled Regina's ears. "Why is she so alone?"
"Because she doesn't fit here, and she knows it." Emma stroked Regina's hair, settling it on her shoulders. "I think it was the same for me. I knew I was different, deep down, and I stayed apart, Neal was the only one who-" she paused, searching for words as she continued to toy with Regina's hair. "He was the only one who felt right, like a real person, until Henry brought me home."
Holding Emma's hand tight against her chest, Regina allowed herself to hope that it would be the same for Lily. She'd be home in Storybrooke, with her family. Like Emma, she might finally start to feel complete.
Emma's lips pressed warm against the back of her neck and Regina shivered, but that was almost pleasant.
"You're cold again, aren't you?"
Regina nodded, rolling over to face Emma because she wanted to kiss her, and lose herself in the warmth of her mouth, just for awhile. "I don't know what it is."
"Did your curse come with vaccinations?" Emma teased, stroking her cheek. "Maybe I've taken you out of Storybrooke into the wide world and exposed you to all kinds of terrible things."
Regina shut her eyes. "I'm fine."
"Your skin's warm and you feel cold," Emma reminded her with a remarkably apt impression of Regina's sternest maternal tone.
"Yes, I am aware of what constitutes a fever," Regina retorted, kissing Emma's cheek. "It's mild. It's most likely a cold virus that hasn't made its way to Storybrooke. I'll bring it back and give it to everyone."
"Won't that be fun," Emma teased. Her hand ran over Regina's stomach, then gently across her breast.
Regina's breath caught in her throat and she slid closer, letting Emma's leg between her own. When Emma kissed her again, it was because she needed to feel her mouth, to focus on the taste of her. It was easier to breath when she shared the same air with Emma; her hands against Regina's skin were the first thing to feel warm. Kissing her back, Regina let herself melt against Emma's mouth. Emma's hands roamed easily over her silky pyjamas, slipping inside her top before she undid the buttons.
Emma sat up just long enough to pull off her t-shirt, then snuggled in beneath the blankets again. Being near her skin had the same comforting heat as the hearth. Emma was her safety. Out here, Emma meant home. Just being held would have been enough, and Emma's gentle lips brought warmth that Regina didn't seem to be capable of generating on her own. Then Emma's hands wandered, dropped between her thighs, and she needed to be touched.
They were in Lily's house, down the hall in the guest bedroom that hadn't been used in years. They'd wash the sheets, they'd be quiet: Regina tried to rationalise it to herself. Then she remembered Graham in her bed while Henry slept down the hall. Lily was her daughter and Emma was basically her step-mother and the confusing mess of their family would have to be drawn in a chart to make sense, yet she didn't have guilt for wanting Emma right now. She felt whole.
Easing Emma's leg over her own while she slid beneath, Regina returned her kisses, sighing against Emma's neck. She wasn't sure if it was wanting or needing that held her so tightly to Emma, but softness of her skin against Regina's own calmed the rushing of her thoughts. Lily would be safe in Storybrooke.
How strange it was that their little cursed town was their refuge now. Instead of being a land of darkness, it was their home. Regina kissed her again, burying her worries in Emma's sighs of pleasure. Emma's thigh rubbed up between her own, making heat that chased the cold from her bones. She'd been so cold before, while Emma brushed her teeth. That chill was a memory now, because Emma was on her, against her, and her hands left trails of heat behind them. Regina's own hands lingered on Emma's breasts, cupping, stroking, then slipping down her stomach. She let her hands rest on Emma's lower back, tugging her closer, because Emma was already sliding down Regina's pyjama bottoms. The firm skin of Emma's thigh brushed against the wet heat of Regina's sex, sliding against her. She gasped, surprised that such an indistinct pressure could make her squirm so. Slipping her own fingers between Emma's thighs and up, she earned a sudden gasp and that half-drunk smile of Emma's. Regina ran her fingers ever so gently across, collecting the slick wetness of Emma on them before she circled her clit.
Nibbling her ear, then her neck, Emma toyed with her labia, working her way slowly in until Regina's hips were tilted up towards her, begging that her fingers go deeper. Emma entered her slowly, teasing with just the tip of one finger, then two, then letting them slide within with an aching lack of speed. Emma kept her fingers still, then curled them, pressing up, pulling out. By the time the heel of Emma's hand hit Regina's clit, she moaned, rocking up into her hand, wanting more. Running her thumb over Emma's clit was her revenge, but Emma held together better, smiled more through the building heat. When she was weak, Regina couldn't resist Emma, couldn't hold back, and Emma knew it. She teased her in turn, but Emma had a control Regina lacked, maybe something Emma had taken from her. Emma's fingers denied her more than they allowed release, and Emma's lips on her breast made her cry out. Moaning in Emma's ear, whispering her name, that did more for Emma than all of Regina's teasing fingers. It was the sweetest, sappiest things, Regina's muttered declarations of breathless affection, that made Emma's knees buckle.
Using her thumb, Emma flicked across Regina's clit, rubbing across its slick surface, pressing harder, until Regina shuddered beneath her. Moving to look into her eyes, Emma stared down at her, possessing her utterly, starting with her eyes. She moaned, then gasped for breath, Emma was careful to let up just long enough, before her fingers were back, slipping deep within, curling, rubbing, making her chest ache. Instead of loss, she could be consumed with joy, with Emma-
Her own fingers were clumsy, and Emma ground her clit against Regina's palm, removing the need for Regina to be aware of what she was doing. Emma pushed, taking her up and over until she tingled all over. Clutching Emma to her, she brought her to orgasm before her own had faded. Emma's breathing, irregular but familiar, carried her through as she became too sensitive to be touched. Emma's hands rested on her belly, then stroked her neck, easing her down. Emma kissed her, taking her time to run her tongue across her lips, to taste and explore. Regina's heart raced, and slowed. Emma's green eyes hung above her, dark and satiated. She held her close, her hands stroking lazily across Regina's stomach until long after Regina fell asleep.
After the first day, Emma and Lily split most of the driving between themselves. Regina didn't mind driving, but her stomach wasn't reliable. Emma hated having her suffer, and Lily had driven long distances by herself. She and Emma had that much in common. They listened to the radio, sometimes Emma and Regina talked of home, of Henry and Maleficent. They didn't dare call her by her first name, or say much out of the ordinary. By their third day of driving, Lily knew that her mother had been ill recently, and that for reasons they couldn't explain, she wasn't able to leave. Lily didn't trust them, not completely, and Emma didn't blame her at all.
Regina only threw up twice more, once off the interstate in Ohio, and once in Massachusetts that morning. She'd been close several times more, and though she promised Emma that the nausea was worse than actually vomiting, Emma wished she could have left Regina in Storybrooke, where at least she wouldn't have to spend three days in the car. The way Lily waited behind them, sympathetic and gentle, reminded Emma that she'd been a good friend and instead of being awkward with her along, it was oddly familiar, even comfortable. It was still mind-bending that Lily was somehow her friend, and her what? Niece on the dragon's side? Step-daughter? Emma had much time to wonder, because Lily drove most of the last day. Regina had fallen asleep after being sick, her head in Emma's lap on the back seat while Lily drove.
"You're good together, you know," Lily said, shifting her eyes to look at them in the rearview mirror. "You take good care of her. It's nice."
"Usually she's the one who has everything together," Emma replied, resting her hand on Regina's shoulder. "She was pretty exhausted before we left. I really shouldn't have brought her along."
Emma caught Lily's smirk in the mirror over her shoulder.
"Maybe I wouldn't have come with you. Regina's cooking abilities are a lot more persuasive than your promises of quiet, small town life," Lily joked. She flicked on the windshield wipers as the rain started to fall in earnest. As they crossed into Maine, the sky had darkened, going almost black even though it was barely late afternoon and as they made their way north, the rain had shifted from mist to downpour. The radio interrupted the music that none of them were listening to several times with a storm warning.
"Do you get tornados up here?" Lily asked, peered upwards. "Should we stop?"
Emma leaned forward, careful not to disturb Regina, and looked at the incredibly dark sky.
"As far as I know, no tornados. If we stop, we'll be stuck. There's not much around here. Storybrooke's only fifteen more miles. Might as well keep going, get back and take shelter there."
"Must be nice to have a home," Lily said, slowing down as the rain and wind howled around them. "Someplace you're really attached to."
"Never thought I'd have one," Emma replied. Regina was still asleep, and she hated that it seemed like she'd need to wake her. Emma took her phone from her pocket and checked it. No signal. That wasn't surprising considering the way the hail began to streak down from the sky. It drummed on the roof of the Bug. Digging Regina's phone gently out of her pocket, she checked that too: also no signal.
"It's not bad here though, really. The weather's usually not-" and the lightning cut Emma off. Both of them winced from the boom of thunder that followed and Regina woke on Emma's lap. "Not anything like this."
"What's happening?" Regina asked, rubbing her eyes. "Why's the rain so loud?"
"I've never seen anything like this," Lily said, slowing down even more. The Bug crawled along in first gear, rain and hail pounding down on them.
"Regina?" Emma asked, resting a hand on her shoulder. "What is it?"
Lightning flashed again, this time staining the sky green, if only for a moment. Regina swallowed hard, and Emma realised painfully that she was still sick to her stomach. Who knew how long it would take them to get back in this weather and she couldn't do anything for Regina.
"Ursula," Regina said, looking at Emma. They were so close to the line now that the hints of magic in the storm were visible, even through the thick trees.
"Is that the name of a hurricane?" Lily asked without taking her eyes from the road. "I haven't seen a sign for your town."
"It's not really on the map," Emma said. "There's a line, and after that a sign."
"That you-" Regina muttered and Emma glared at her.
"I hit it, once, so please don't."
Lily nodded, barely listening to them bicker because the sky was so dark that the lights of the Bug barely reached into the rain. "Is this a nor'easter? Whatever that is?"
"Sort of," Regina said, balling her fingers up. She missed her magic, because once they crossed the line, she could just teleport the Bug back home, grab Henry and Mal and take them into the basement until this blew over.
The radio relayed one more storm warning, then turned to static, crackling at them ominously until Lily shut it off. It was so dark that there was no way to know when they crossed the town line. Regina and Emma leaned forward, watching the road in front of them disappear into a black tunnel of rain and hail. The hailstones grew, hitting the car harder and cracking against the windshield. Regina checked her phone once more and then stuffed it in her pocket.
"Why would Ursula make a storm?" Emma asked, keeping her voice low enough that only Regina heard.
"She must be protecting the town," Regina answered, worry making her forehead tight. "Something must have happened. Maybe a fire? Mal's not good at fighting fires. She had to fight off fire imps once and she was so angry because she couldn't burn them, only swat them like big scaley flies."
Emma smiled a little, because Maleficent being all annoyed at something little she couldn't burn was kind of cute. She took Regina's hand and uncurled her fingers, making her own fit into them. "We're almost back. It'll be okay."
Emma shouldn't have worried about not seeing the town line, because all of them felt it. The air was heavier, thicker as they approached and the spray-painted line on the pavement, the nothing ahead of them was darker than anything she'd seen.
"Stop," Regina commanded, pulling the Snow Queen's scroll from her pocket. She read it, sharing it with Emma, then they passed it forward. "Look at this."
Lily took it, staring in confusion at the old runes. "I can't read that."
"You don't have to read it," Emma started to explain, then they felt it, the tugging, teasing hint of magic that waited for them beyond the line.
"Drive forward, slowly," Regina told Lily. "It'll make sense in a moment."
Trusting her because she didn't have another choice, Lily pulled them forward and over the line. Magic rushed back, filling Emma, bringing her senses back and her strength. She didn't realise how empty she'd been, how hollow, but now that she had magic again, she felt so much more.
Regina's head dropped, as if slipping back into magic was like going underwater. Whatever was bothering her hadn't gone away, if anything, it was worse, because she looked almost as green as the lightning.
Whatever Lily felt, she didn't have to time to process it. Once she stopped again, Regina teleported the Bug. Familiar purple smoke engulfed them and they appeared in the driveway of Regina's house.
"What the fuck-" Lily started, but Regina was already out of the car into the rain, looking for Henry.
"There's magic here," Emma said, wishing she could take more time to ease Lily into it. "I have it, and Regina, and your mom has a lot. You probably do to so don't wave your hands too much."
Lily shook her head then followed Emma and Regina out of the car. The rain and hail pelted down onto them and lightning and thunder cracked so often that it was heard to hear anything. "You're fucking with me."
"Believe me, or believe this is a really fucked up dream, either way, come with me."
Maybe the hail got her in the house as much as belief did, but Lily followed Emma in. Regina had already searched the house and met them in the foyer.
"They're not here."
"Okay," Emma said, trying to stay calm. "In a storm everyone's supposed to go to the school-"
Regina nodded, already lifting her hands to teleport. Emma grabbed Lily, so she was with them and they vanished again into purple smoke. They popped back into existence in the school cafeteria, with people all around them. The storm still raged outside, but the cafeteria had thick stone walls. They were safe.
Their appearance immediately drew a crowd, and everyone spoke at once, chattering about the storm and how glad they were that they were back, and Emma's parents had just noticed Lily and how confused she looked when Henry ran up to them.
Regina and Emma grabbed him at once, holding him tight. They were soaked and he had blood on his face.
"Not mine," Henry promised them, because he'd read their fear on their faces. "Mal got hurt. Some kind of fire things. Harpies."
"Is she all right?" Regina demanded, looking around. There were some blankets strung up as walls in the far corner, and Emma saw Granny and some of the others moving around.
"Yeah," Henry promised, smiling enough to calm his mothers. "They had sharp claws, and she's pissed about that, but she's fine."
"Mal's my mom?" Lily asked, staring at the blood on Henry's face. "And she's hurt?"
Henry looked her over, then met Regina's eyes. "She's okay. Granny's looking after her. Now that you're back, you guys can heal her, right?"
"Yeah, kid," Emma promised, patting his shoulder. "Tell us what happened."
Their little crowd dispersed as Snow and Charming sent everyone around them back to their tasks. The windows had been boarded up, some people were preparing food in the school kitchen, and the fairies were passing out candles and blankets. Dr. Whale treated the other injured in the first aid corner. Many of the people lying on cots and the floor had burns on their exposed skin, or scratches. The air stank of blood and sweat, but none of the injured bled enough to be the source. It wasn't until they got around the blankets that they saw the pool of dark dragon's blood on the floor. Mal must have bled heavily before changing back into her human form. The far end of the cafeteria led to the gym, and she must have come through the door as she changed, bleeding as she shrank.
Maleficent sat on one of the cots, the blood soaking through her shirt and her trousers made her clothes stick to her skin in patches, which was a strange effect because all of her clothes were intact. The skin beneath however, had been shredded, and whatever had cut her left long slices. Belle sat with her, pressing bandages against some of the worst of the bleeding and they were already starting to remove her shirt when she saw them.
"Well, it's about damn time," she snapped, staring at Emma and Regina with relief so vivid that Emma noticed the tears in her eyes. "We could have used you a few hours ago when the harpies attacked-" Mal's voice cut off because Belle had given up removing her shirt gently and was now peeling it away from her bloody skin.
Lily followed behind them and she nearly crashed into Henry when he turned away, embarrassed that Belle had stripped Maleficent down to her bloodstained, lacy bra. Lily and Maleficent stared at each other, and time could have stopped, because even the storm wasn't important. Their eyes met, and even over Regina's shoulder, they knew each other. Lily started to cry, trembling where she stood and Mal pushed Belle gently away and grabbed her daughter. Their hug brought them both down to the floor, both of them crying even as Belle and Regina fussed together over Mal's injuries. Emma patted Henry's shoulder as he stood, his back to the scene.
"Everything's going to be okay," Emma promised him. "Regina and I should be able to heal those cuts."
"Harpies have the sharpest claws," Henry explained, his face grave with concern. "Mal said they must have come out of the mine after we killed the beetles. She thought we'd won, because it was so quiet after she burned the beetles. But the harpies appeared yesterday and just kept coming. Their scales are so tough that fire just glances off of them. After the sun set, some of them had their own fire, and everyone just kept getting hurt because Mal couldn't burn them. She tried to fight them off, but they swarmed all over her." His voice broke, just a little, and Emma remembered that he was only fourteen, though he seemed so adult. "Mal nearly disappeared in a swarm of them, trying to fight them off. Then Ursula called the storm to stop them. She's on the roof now, keeping the rain and hail going so the harpies can't attack us again."
"Emma, I need you," Regina said, pulling her attention down to Maleficent's bare back. Long, ugly scratches marred her skin, as if she'd been attacked by parallel knives. Emma took Regina's hand, kneeling beside her and together they started to heal Maleficent's injuries, urging her flesh and skin to knit back together, to keep her blood. Through it all, she wouldn't let go of Lily, and she kept looking into her face, smiling and crying.
She kept speaking in that strange other-tongue that Maleficent only used rarely, and Emma had no idea if Lily understood it, but in the midst of all the chaos, they were together. Lily was finally home, and all the magic and the weirdness could wait, because she had her mother.