Notes: Huge apologies that this took so long, two really bad weeks. Many thanks to Race for making this so fantastic and Wapwani, for holding my hand and reading everything first.
Regina woke slowly, disorientation at the unfamiliar surface she was on and noises around her giving way to understanding when she pried heavy eyelids open. Beyond the walls of the gym Ursula's storm was quieter now and perhaps she'd let it blow itself out in the morning. At that exact moment, however, Regina didn't care. Maleficent was curled against Regina's back, her body warm and comforting, shielding Regina in a way she remembered so vividly from their early days together so long ago. Maleficent had been the one to remind Regina that being held didn't have to feel like a trap, that arms around her waist could be a safe haven.
And now it wasn't just Mal protecting her. Regina smiled softly at the messy riot of soft blonde hair in her vision. Emma lay in front of her, eyes shut and her breathing slow, her cheek squashed awkwardly on the pillow made by her jacket. Sometime during the night she had slipped under the blanket too and was now almost as close as their positions allowed, one hand resting on Regina's hip and their legs pressed together. The softness of sleep held her face, leaving her features still and unmarked with worry, all the bright, stubborn determination that was so very…Emma was buried now. She looked gentler. Younger. Regina's chest tightened, for a wonder not with nausea but simple emotion. Because she knew as soon as Emma woke that gentleness would fade. She would worry; about the town, about her family, about Regina, wanting to keep her safe, to take away the symptoms that made her so ill, and now...Mal's words echoed in her mind and suddenly Regina's chest felt too small, or maybe her heart was just too big. Shifting carefully she rested her hand just below Mal's on the still-flat plane of her stomach.
Regina couldn't feel it yet, the flicker of life Mal assured her was there, but she didn't doubt. Not Mal. Not about this.
There were other doubts: pregnancy in this world was hardly easy, but it was known, understood. There were thousands of books and medical professionals, information and schedules but none of those had ever been written about a child conceived by magic, whose parents might or might not have still been under the lingering influence of a spell meant to connect them to a being that wasn't even human. Regina had no way of knowing how long she'd be nauseated, when her fever would break, when (or even if, and please, please let it be 'when') her stomach would finally settle. She could hope that when Mal woke up she might have answers, but Regina knew enough about the nature of magic and magical beings to know Mal might well be as helpless as she was.
Unaware of Regina's thoughts, Emma slept on, sighing in her sleep and tightening her hold on Regina briefly. The unconscious action brought a smile to Regina's face and she reached up, toying with a lock of Emma's soft hair, letting it fall around her fingers. Emma Swan had been her adversary, her ally, her antagonist and her hope. She'd been Regina's student, and her partner and the mother of Regina's child. Twice now. She'd once been so worried about Emma's importance that Regina had taken a potion to forget, so she could raise Henry without fear of what would eventually happen when the loop of Fate closed and Emma came to break the curse and - Regina had thought at the time - defeat her.
In the dim light of the room, Regina's lips quirked into a wry smile. Whatever push Fate may have given her and Emma, she didn't think this had ever been how their story was supposed to go.
Maybe they weren't ready. It was so soon, unplanned, and she and Emma had never talked about more children. They'd barely talked about their relationship and where they were heading together. There simply hadn't been time. Their lives were so chaotic, and Regina had no idea how a child would fit into them. Was she even ready to be a mother again? What if… Images of Cora, of magic, restraints and cold dark fear, gripped Regina and she shuddered, heart racing and the acrid tang of long-gone terror returned to the back of her throat.
Then Emma murmured something that sounded suspiciously like "Regina" and shifted closer until their bodies were pressed together, Regina's head below Emma's chin. She was enveloped in warmth - for the first time in weeks not cold at all - in the familiar scent of Emma's soap, could feel the energy that was her magic just below Emma's skin and there, there was Regina's answer. This time would be different.
This time, she wasn't alone.
Perhaps that's why she was so calm right now, even knowing all the obstacles possibly in their path. Somehow, she and Emma kept making their own destinies. Somehow, they kept beating all the odds. Together, they had transcended realms, moved a moon, defeated monsters, saved their son and now, brought Regina's daughter home.
The fear would return, she knew. The doubts and the memories and probably the nightmares. Especially if she was carrying a little girl. But held between Mal and Emma, with Henry and Lily close by, Regina felt shielded from her worries, as if Mal and Emma's arms were her armour.
Tilting her head, Regina pressed a soft kiss to the skin of Emma's throat and closed her eyes, sinking into the embrace and letting herself imagine Emma holding their child. The way she'd sing those silly little songs and her bright, bright smile: they'd be all right. They could handle this.
Emma's slow steady breathing as her guide, Regina slipped into sleep soon after.
The next time Regina woke was hardy as pleasant, the contraction of her muscles as she shivered pulled her from sleep. She tried tugging the blanket closer before she was even truly awake, but it did no good. Emma was gone, as was the warmth of Mal behind her and cold seized her skin and muscles like a gnarled hand. Regina resisted the urge to groan. She was so very tired of feeling this way. Then she remembered the why, and suddenly it mattered so much less. She could bear this for as long as she needed to.
With a soft sigh, Regina gave up trying to stay asleep, blinking in surprise to see Henry sitting next to her, eyes wide with concern.
"Lily's getting you another blanket, and Emma and Mal are coming back. We thought you'd be okay, but your temperature's gone up again." Henry touched her forehead; his hand was cool and Regina ached for a wholly different reason now. She tried to say something but he kept going: the uncertainty she could see in the set of his shoulders making him babble just a bit. "I checked for crazy straws in the kitchen, but the school doesn't have any. When we get home, I'll make sure you get one." He smiled at her, hopeful and tremulous and Regina didn't care about the cold or the way her head spun, she shifted and sat up before Henry could protest and wrapped her arms around him.
"Thank you, sweetheart," she said softly, gently kissing his cheek. Even sitting down, he'd grown so tall. She knew just how worried he was when he studied her face. She wanted to reassure him, and tell him the real reason she was sick. She never wanted to keep secrets from her son again, but here, in this crowded place, without Emma, this wasn't the time. So she hugged him and forced herself to smile and sit up straighter (even though her stomach also protested remaining upright) and if her son was old and wise enough to see through his mother's attempts well...he was also young enough not to say anything.
The weight of another blanket settled over her shoulders, and Lily knelt next to Henry. Her eyes - dark and warm like Regina's own - were wide and worried; Regina wanted so badly to reach out and comfort her daughter, because she'd seen Lily suffer enough for several life times. She gripped the blanket tighter around her to stop herself. Soon, they'd let go of these secrets.
"You okay?" Lily asked. "My mom's coming, and Emma. They were up on the roof, looking at the mess."
"The town's mostly all right," Henry promised her, tucking the blanket tight around her shoulders. It didn't help, but she appreciated the gesture, and the gentleness of his hands. "Emma said a lot of windows will need to be replaced, and some of houses lost parts of their roofs, We'll need to replant some of the trees."
"My mom-," Lily said it carefully, as if she'd been waiting her whole life to say it, but was still afraid of the word. Regina understood. "Did a sweep of the town and didn't see any harpies, any live ones anyway. She took Emma along."
Regina's thoughts must have shown on her face because Henry smiled suddenly, eyes sparkling with something light and reminiscent of his younger self. "Yeah, Emma went flying. Mal said it helps to have someone with the human eye for detail. When she's a dragon, she doesn't pay much attention to the little things."
Despite her stomach and her head, Regina nearly laughed, her smile reflecting Henry's. She would have paid a lot to see Emma's face the first time Mal launched off the ground. Emma wasn't even thrilled about riding horses. She'd have to remember to ask Mal how Emma had taken it.
"No other news?" She asked Lily, who shook her head.
"Ursula was exhausted so she's sleeping now, Cruella said she'd keep an eye on her and Sn...Emma's parents are organizing supplies and work parties for later."
There was a bitter twist to Lily's expression that Regina understood all too well. Snow and Charming owed their daughter, but it would have to wait. At least until the immediate crisis was over.
If another one didn't come along.
Regina's head pounded a little harder, pressure building behind her right eye, and she sighed.
"Mom?" Henry's worry, made her ache, but at least this time she had an easy answer for him.
"Just good old fashioned irritation," she said dryly, pinching the bridge of her nose. For a moment, he grinned carefully back at her and Regina made the mistake of trying to insist she was fine. Why had she never truly appreciated how fully her son had inherited her scowl.
"No, you're not," he said quietly. "Your temperature's over 102." He held up one of the sticker thermometers, which apparently had been on her forehead while she was sleeping. She'd have to have words with Emma about that. "Dr. Whale said you must have some kind of infection, definitely magical, and Grandma thought the fairies might be able to help, but you were asleep." The weight and worry she wanted to spare him from so desperately, settled onto his shoulders.
"We didn't want to wake you," Lily added, looking to Henry for support. "Sorry. Everyone's worried about you."
Now it was Regina's turn to scowl. The idea of others seeing her weak...her skin almost crawled and she straightened, her hand dropping to Emma's jacket, her fingers stroking the soft leather absently. It had been so easy when they were outside of Storybrooke to close everything out except her family. Away from the town, shielded from its history and so many memories with only Emma by her side, she'd allowed herself to let go of everything except their mission and Emma and what was happening with her own body. It had felt so good to have Emma there, protecting her, she'd allowed herself to forget, to let her guard down and be weak for a while. Now they were back, with the whole town apparently aware of her illness...
"Mom," Henry said, warning and exasperation in his voice. He knew her all too well. "Don't say you're fine."
He wasn't her little boy anymore, not really, but she would always, always be his mother. One look at his face, at the fierceness in his eyes and Regina felt herself soften, her shoulders relaxing. Her little prince, so grown up.
"I won't," Regina said softly, reaching out to smooth a strand of messy hair behind his ear. "But I will be, all right? I promise."
Henry and Lily exchanged a glance and Regina's throat tightened at how easy they were with each other.
"Okay," Henry replied solemnly.
"Good, now help me up and let's go make sure your grandparents aren't making too much of a mess of things okay?"
Henry shook his head, smiling just a little as he stood, holding out his hand. Before Regina could take it though, rising voices and a change in the energy of the room signalled a new arrival. Regina looked up, finding Emma unerringly. And almost burst out laughing at the sight of her.
Emma looked like she'd been through a windstorm, her hair messy and tangled, cheeks stained bright red. Her eyes were a little glassy and slightly too large and if Regina was any judge, her knees were definitely unsteady. Behind her, Mal walked easily, a smug look on her face. Regina didn't need to be told what had happened; Emma had said something snarky and Mal had come in for one of her hard landings to get back at her. Regina remembered those from their first days together, when Mal was as likely to snap at her as kiss her and Regina had been far too fond of pushing the dragon's buttons.
Frankly she was impressed that Emma was still standing, and an arched eyebrow in Mal's direction received a subtle nod and soft quirk of her lips that Regina could only describe as fond. Mal was impressed too. Regina shook her head.
Idiots, both of them.
Lily walked toward Mal and Regina's eyes followed her. She ached to be able to go and be with Mal and Lily but they needed each other more right now. She kept reminding herself that silently. Lily needed time, no matter how easily she seemed to be adjusting to having her life turned upside down, Regina recognized just how fragile her daughter was. There would be time.
There had to be time.
Emma's body hit the mat Regina was sitting on with an ungraceful 'thud' and Regina bit her lip, thoughts turning momentarily in a more pleasant direction.
"Have a good flight?" she couldn't resist asking. The grumpy, childish pout on Emma's face was totally worth it.
"Your ex is sadistic," Emma groaned, falling backwards dramatically. Her eyes were sparkling though. "Hey kid, go get me a bottle of water would you?" She said to Henry, who rolled his eyes.
"Yes Ma, I will conveniently leave so you and mom can talk," he glared at his birth mother and now Regina really did laugh. She and Henry shared a wink and then he slouched off pretending to be mightily offended for a few steps.
"Your son is too smart for his own good," Emma grumbled, sitting up. She smiled though, that careful smile so full of hope that warmed Regina's heart and made her reach for Emma's hand.
"Our son," Regina replied softly, watching the way Emma's whole body softened, wonder and awe and something else Regina could never quite place dawning on her face like the sun and oh the power of that single word, that held so much more meaning now. It was only by tightening her fingers around Emma's that Regina resisted resting her hand protectively on her belly.
"How are you feeling?" Emma asked after a moment, her voice quiet enough to only reach Regina's ears
"Better now," Regina murmurred. It was truth, not merely sentiment, because as soon as Emma had taken her hand she felt the comforting warmth of their magic combining, slipping beneath her skin, pulling something of Emma into herself. It pushed back the cold and settled her, not much, but some. Enough. For a while anyway.
"Uh-huh," Emma said, unconvinced, though she thankfully let it drop. She kissed her forehead, and her mouth lingered so that Emma's words were only for her. "Mal thinks that she can teach me how to bring your fever down, but we need to get some ingredients from your vault and we're not sure what the extent of the flooding was."
There was a part of Regina - small and tired and selfish, always aching from the past - that wanted to say to Hell with it, wanted to take Emma and Henry, and possibly Mal and Lily, and just go home. Repair whatever damage had been done to her house, then lock the door and let herself relax, maybe cook dinner in her kitchen, in her home. She wanted to curl up in her own damn bed with Emma's arms around her knowing that Henry was reading comics in his room and Mal and Lily were either taking up the spare guestrooms or downstairs in the study, putting a dent in Regina's liquor collection and talking late into the night. She wanted just a day and a night where she could breathe, warm and safe with Emma's body pressed to her own. She wanted to finally say the words that were caught in her throat, straining to get out because this was her family and she wanted, so desperately wanted this to be her future.
The rest of her, the part that had been Queen and Mayor, who had created this town- her town- with her father's life and her own pain...the rest of her needed to do. To assess the damage and plan for repairs and make sure Snow and Charming didn't make an well-meaning but idiotic decisions that would just give her more headaches later. Her body might not have been happy but Regina had weathered far, far worse and this time, she didn't have to do it alone.
"It's just a fever," she told Emma gently, still in awe at the way Emma worried. She still didn't quite know how to handle that, the way it made her heart feel too big for her ribs, all the ways in which Emma cared.
Even if they were a look that clearly said "bullshit," which she was on the receiving end of right now.
Like they had so many times in the last hours, the words seemed to leap into Regina's mouth and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop from letting them spill out, flooding this wonderful thing and possibly washing away some of what they built. Her lips stayed pressed together though and instead she just reached for Emma's hand. When their skin touched Emma's magic reacted again, reaching out, almost vibrating, as if it were being pulled towards her and Regina sighed at the warmth, like afternoon sunshine streaming through a window onto her skin.
"What is that?" Emma asked,staring fascinated at their hands. "You feel it, don't you? Does that mean I can help you like I did Maleficent?"
Regina returned her look of surprise before shaking her head gently. What was happening to her wasn't what had happened to Maleficent but Emma couldn't know that yet. Soon, she promised herself silently. Soon. "I don't know," she told Emma instead.
"It'll be okay," Emma said, reaching for her hair. Emma's fingers ran through it before resting them on her neck.
"Since you're going to insist on getting up anyway," Emma began, "Let me help, okay?"
"I assure you, I can stand up," Regina argued, smiling a little. They had come so far together, so that showing weakness in front of Emma didn't make her feel like she would break, like bleeding. It was just something to tease about.
Emma leaned close again, lowering her hands to Regina's. "You're letting me help so I don't worry," she said. "Not because you need me to. "
Her eyes were steady and serious, the edges of those pink lips curled in a careful, careful smile and that right there, was why Regina loved Emma. In a room full of people who had been her prisoners and her enemies, her wary allies and possibly even cautiously her friends, some of whom had known Regina for decades, the one who truly understood her was right here. That understanding made whatever acerbic remark Regina had been readying to fade away and instead she turned her hands in Emma's and let herself be helped up, even if she didn't need it, even if she was perfectly capable of standing on her own, maybe the point was...she didn't have to.
Henry returned a few moments later and Emma took the bottle of water first, instead of insisting that Regina drink it. Henry's concern hadn't left his face, even though Regina stood straight, without wavering, and knew she probably looked better than she had yesterday. He said nothing though, just reported to Emma while she chugged the bottle of water and Regina made a face. Regina tried not to dwell on the fact that Emma's immaturity was now something she found endearing rather than irritating. Some secrets, she would never ever reveal.
"Grandma wanted to know if we would check Mifflin Street and then head towards Main Street. No one's been that way yet."
Emma glanced at Regina who just nodded. They might as well, and she wanted to see how the mansion had fared.
Mal and Lily returned then, standing close together and Regina had to look away as her chest tightened. When she glanced back, Mal's expression was knowing and gentle. It lasted only a second though, before she refocused on the situation at hand.
"I'll teleport us over," Mal said. "Save the trouble of driving."
"Teleport?" Lily asked, eyes wide. Apparently dragons were a comfortable revelation but teleporting from one place to another was getting a bit much.
"Like this," Mal said, barely giving Emma a chance to wrap her arm around Regina's back. Regina opened her mouth to tell Mal to wait but it was too late. Mal was too impatient (and too powerful) and Regina thought she might have sighed as that familiar feeling of 'nothing' and Mal's familiar, sweet/hot magic enveloped her.
Mal had teleported much larger groups over much longer distances, and the moments of not being, of being between places, were comfortable darkness that didn't hurt and the landing was seamless, but Henry and Lily both still had to catch their breath when they arrived in the chaos of the Mifflin Street. Henry tried to pretend he wasn't a little thrown but Lily didn't bother, looking around in awe at where they were and then at her mother.
It immediately became apparent, however, that they had much more pressing matters.
Mifflin street was a disaster.
Regina felt her heart lurch in her chest at the damage to the street. Tree branches, leaves, pieces of wood, siding, shingles and other debris covered the pavement and sidewalks. Many of the neat trees and bushes that had lined the street had been half-ripped from their roots, their branches and leaves scattered. Regina squeezed Emma's hand, because this mess would take much to clean up, even with magic at their disposal, and she was suddenly afraid of what she might find when they got to her house. Emma looked back at her, green eyes worried, and Regina knew she was thinking the same thing.
Of them all, Mal was the least concerned, her magic surging as she waved her hand and the street to Regina's house cleared. The debris on the pavement faded away, and the leaves returned to the trees where they'd been stripped. It was more showy than substantial; they'd still need to need to check the water and gas lines beneath the street, and it would be a small miracle if the electricity worked. Not that Maleficent would think about that. She'd use magic, or candles, and make fun of Regina for worrying about the darkness.
"Think she'll fix the whole block to show off?" Emma said, just loud enough to make sure Mal caught it. Regina attempted a smile at Emma's teasing, seeing the attempt to distract her for what it was, but the expression didn't stick. There was a hard, cold knot in her throat and something heavy in her stomach that had nothing to do with her usual nausea.
She needed to see her home, to make sure it was still intact.
Her wish wasn't to be granted.
Mal waved her hands and returned a downed tree back to its place alongside the road and alarm shot through the group as the branches revealed the feathered bodies of two harpies. They lay twisted and broken half on the sidewalk and half in the hedges at the edge of Regina's property, not dead long enough to start stinking beyond the faint aroma of brimstone that clung to their kind even when they were alive.
Mal hissed, making Lily jump, Regina's right hand curled instinctively, a fireball blooming as she stepped in front of Henry. Emma was at her side, white magic crackling over her skin like electricity and Regina could feel the tension in Emma's body as she moved to protect Regina's left side. They had all moved practically as one, cohesive as a team that had been working together for years. It felt good, right, solid in a way Regina had never experienced. It felt...foolish. Because the harpies were dead.
Emma's shoulders dropped and Regina let her fire go, sharing a wry smile with Mal who brushed invisible lint off her coat.
WIth the shock of surprise gone, it was very clear the creatures were dead. Their metallic feathers were torn from the flesh of their wings, most that remained were ratty and bent, and the harpies' hideous faces battered and bloody. Ursula's storm had knocked them from the sky, and lashed them them hard against the ground.
Mal glared at them, then raised her hand and incinerated the bodies, turning them from flesh to ash in a burst of flame. "Not so fireproof now, are you?" she muttered, her expression dark. Their flesh withered with the inferno, but their claws remained behind, like dark knives in the fire with handles of bone.
Regina forced herself to watch, even though the fire only brought out the stench of brimstone more and now that the adrenaline had faded her stomach rolled in protest. When Emma's hand reached for hers, Regina didn't hesitate to take it, lacing their fingers and taking a slow, careful breath as Emma's magic steadied her a little.
"They're not dangerous once they're dead," Mal promised, half to Henry, half to Lily, who stared into the fire as if it had a grip on her soul. Mal touched her shoulder, drawing her close, and they watched the flames together as the harpies burnt away. "There will be more. Ursula said they concentrated their attack on this section of town."
"They have the same stink as the beetles," Emma observed, wrinkling her nose and wrapping her other arm around Henry's shoulder as he stared at the burning creatures. Guilt pricked Regina for a moment. He shouldn't have to see this, he shouldn't be here. Even as she thought it though, Regina recognised the look on Henry's face; that hard, bright determination and unflinching stare. Their son. Always and forever, their son.
Squeezing Emma's hand a little tighter, Regina held back a sigh and turned to Mal.
"Summoned creatures," Regina said.
"So our summoner brought them too?" Emma asked, looking from Mal to Regina. "Why harpies?"
"They're fireproof," Mal replied, scowling with spite, even as the fire crackled behind them. "After we burnt the beetles, these were a logical choice. They're stronger, more vicious, and immune to my best weapon. If Ursula hadn't have been here-" Mal trailed off,. "They'd started to overwhelm me through numbers alone. Ursula's storm was timely, and necessary. We'll need to add magical wards while we repair the town. Make sure that we're ready for the next attack."
Lily shook her head and kept her eyes on her mother. She looked slightly shell shocked, her eyes a little too wide as she avoided looking at the burning corpses, but she wasn't running away or yelling, and Regina almost smiled. Their daughter was as stubborn as her parents. She wished there were time, time to let Lily adjust, time to just talk, to be together and tell her the whole truth of who her parents were, but time was the one thing they apparently did not have.
"How do you know there will be another attack?"
"Always is, with someone like this. They start small, testing our defences, then come at us with something that defeats the first line." Mal sighed, weariness creeping into the set of her shoulders. "This is far from over."
The group was silent for a moment, the weight of words like a portent hanging in the air and Regina knew the truth in them. Whatever or whoever was endangering the town, they were just getting started. With the threat of another harpy attack clearly not forthcoming, however, Regina felt that push against her ribs. She needed to keep going, to see her home.
"Emma," she murmured quietly. The hand holding hers tightened and Emma looked at her.
"The mansion," said softly.
Throat tight, Regina could only nod.
They walked together, their strange little group - family, really - Mal and Lily falling in like a rearguard and though it didn't mean as much to Mal, Regina was grateful for the silent support.
She needed it.
The broken bushes seemed to part like a crumpled green curtain as they walked up to Regina's driveway and the full extent of the storm's damage was revealed. The entire group stumbled to a halt, or maybe it was just Regina, she couldn't really be sure, the ground suddenly uneven beneath her feet.
The front porch of the mansion was almost completely collapsed, one of the white columns broken and crumbled onto the lawn. Her bushes were a disaster, flowers littering the trampled, muddy grass. Several windows were broken both upstairs and down, and the entire right hand upper corner of the roof was caved in.
Someone made a strangled noise and it was only when Emma's face filled her vision that Regina realized it was her. She was barely aware of Mal putting her arm around Henry and saying something about scouting the rest of the house, all she could think about was her home. It had been the first place she had ever felt truly safe in this world. It was her refuge, her castle, the place where she'd raised her son. Where she'd finally let Emma into her heart.
"Hey, hey, Regina listen to me, we'll fix it okay?" Emma was standing close, palms against her cheeks and thumbs stroking her skin. "I promise, I promise," Emma said over and over until Regina finally managed to focus on her, turning to see not fear but fierce determination. With a shuddering sigh, she rested her cheek against Emma's, using her as a shield until her composure was restored. She could do this, her magic, Emma's, Mal's, she could fix this, but oh it hurt, as if some part of herself was damaged.
"We'll fix it, Regina I swear," Emma said again, thumb tenderly wiping away the tear that made its way over Regina's lashes.
"Yes, we will," Mal's voice, from behind her and Regina straightened, turned. "Henry is with Lily, just checking the rest of the house. Its fine, only the front was damaged." Mal's voice was soft, and for just a moment she rested her fingers against Regina's arm, the comforting warmth of her magic like sitting in front of a roaring fire, a hug without arms.
Swallowing hard, Regina nodded and stepped away. "Yes," her voice cracked, she tried again. Better. "Yes, we will."
"Mom?" Henry and Lily had returned and Regina opened her arms as soon as she saw her son's face. "The back isn't bad," he said, voice slightly muffled against the wool of her coat. She tightened her hold on his shoulders (when did he get so tall?) and felt Emma's presence, near but not crowding.
"It's okay, sweetheart, we'll fix it."
"Yeah we will," Emma said, and Regina could hear the cocky smile in her voice. "Might even get your mom to paint it some color besides boring old white."
It was a cheap shot, but the intent more than the words were what mattered and Regina played her part. Turning, she glared at Emma. "Don't even think of it Ms. Swan." The sniping made Henry grin up at her and the pain Regina felt earlier bled away. This was what mattered. Her family, here. Safe. Everything else they could repair.
"This is going to have to wait though," Emma sighed, and the hand on Regina's shoulder told her just how much Emma hated that. It was true though, keeping the town safe had to come first. They needed the streets clear, and a perimeter. Making their house liveable again would have to wait until the town was better protected, even if that meant another night in the freezing gymnasium. She shuddered, and Emma's magic rose in response, warm and shifting through her like waves. Pulling Regina closer, Emma furrowed her forehead with concern but Regina shook her head subtly. She was alright.
"So, what now?" Henry asked, stepping away and shoving his hands in his coat pocket.
"Now we keep surveying for damage, check the rest of the street, stay close," Regina said sternly.
"What about moving the stuff in the middle of the street, is just waving stuff away the most efficient way?" Emma asked, latching onto a plan of action. It must have been hard for her to look at the damage to Regina's house, harder still to see how much it hurt Regina and not try to fix it, right this instant. Instead she concentrated on what needed to happen next, into repairing the town, because she needed to be busy as much as Regina did. This was their town, and their people needed the streets back so everyone could go home.
So she and Regina and Henry could go home.
"Don't think of it as banishing," Regina reminded her. "Think of it as returning to order. You're not taking it back in time, or getting rid of everything that's in the wrong place, you're putting things back, it's like a puzzle that wants to be solved. Don't force it, let everything guide you to where it should be."
"Except the harpies," Henry said, his distaste echoing Mal's earlier. It lightened Emma's mood enough so that she gave him a wry smile. "We should probably keep burning them."
"Lily can help with that," Mal said, pride shining in the look she gave their daughter. At the widening of Lily's eyes, Mal shook her head. "Don't say you can't do it. They're dead, if you only half-crisp them or make them explode, I'll fix it." The way Lily smiled back, slow and then easier, glowing under her mother's approval, made Regina's chest tighten. They needed each other so much, and seeing them finally together meant everything.
"We can split up," Regina said, forcing herself to think like a Mayor again. "We'll cover more ground that way."
"No."
It came in stereo and all of them blinked, looking at each other until Henry make a choked sound that was probably a smothered laugh and Lily's lopsided smile made another appearance. Emma, Mal and Regina looked at each other and Regina felt the heat of a flush on her skin. Emma's cheeks were pink but her jaw was set. Mal just looked smug.
"All right, fine," she gritted, pretending she was more annoyed than she really was. "We'll stick together."
"You should-" Emma started but stopped when Regina pulled away, shaking her head.
"Don't say it," Regina interrupted. "I'll rest when we have the streets clear. We can't fix our house yet and," now she lowered her voice, pulling Emma a step away from the others, "I won't be fussed over in front of an audience in that damn gymnasium any more than I have to be." There was steel in her tone, the sharp edge that used to send peasants cowering in fear.
Emma smirked and looked back at Regina with an irritatingly familiar expression. The one thing Emma Swan had never been was afraid of her and Regina took a moment to seriously regret that. Only a moment though. A glance at the other members of their party showed she wasn't getting any help from them either. Mal for once had no trace of humor on her face and Henry's shoulders were set in that stubborn line that reminded Regina all too much of his birth mother. Regina resisted the urge to sigh. Emma and Henry didn't even have to know about the baby to be concerned. They'd be insufferable once they knew.
'You like it,' a quiet voice that sounded a lot like Mal whispered in her mind. Regina ignored it, even if it wasn't lying.
"I'm fine, Emma. I promise. For now. And I promise I'll tell you if I'm not," she finished softly.
"Okay," Emma agreed, her expression softening. "But we stay together."
"Don't give in too easily," Mal muttered as she walked past Emma, heading back toward the street.
Regina would have glared after her, but though it galled her, Mal was probably right. Regina knew very little about magical pregnancy, and while her first instinct was always to hide her weakness and project as much strength as she could, she wasn't alone anymore, and had her family to think about. A family that didn't just include the child she was carrying, but Emma and their son. She hated it. A lifetime of harsh lessons insisted to her that this was wrong but...Emma's soft gaze and her hand steady and warm in Regina's own. Henry's arms around her waist and his simple faith in her ability to make everything right again. Mal's steady strength. Lily, who didn't know her but would. A new life she wouldn't meet for sometime but was already so very important to her.
If it meant keeping this, keeping them, she could push aside those instincts, those voices that sounded like her mother and Rumple and a long defeated Evil Queen telling her this would be her downfall.
Maybe this was temporary, and it would become more manageable, but maybe worse symptoms would follow. She needed to research her condition, see if there was anything in the library, because magical books sometimes found a way to appear there after the curse had broken. There had to be something that had more knowledge than Mal's cryptic explanation of a life spark caught flame.
If her gnawing fever was this life trying to establish itself by feeding on her magic, as Mal had said, hopefully it would fade, in time. Did she have enough magic? Was it the right type? Perhaps the child was taking all the light magic she possessed, which was what made her so very tired but still able to call a fireball when she wanted one. Magic was hardly quantifiable, but there had to be a more concrete explanation somewhere than what Mal had been able to give her. They needed to face this together, and if it didn't work, didn't take, she'd need Emma, because she couldn't face that emptiness alone, not now that she knew what she could lose.
"Together," she squeezed Emma's hand and they turned and followed Mal back to the street, away from her damaged home.
Emma's superpower had been a little glitchy ever since moving to Storybrooke, but she could still always count on it to know when Regina was lying and today, she'd been hiding something. Emma couldn't pin it down, and if Regina hadn't been so sick she would have fought harder to get it out of her, not because she didn't trust the other woman, but because whatever secret she carried, it was obviously weighing on her. Regina hadn't been more than a step from Emma all day. At first, she thought that Regina was just humouring her, sticking close because she knew Emma worried, but as they searched the town, cleaning the streets as they went, Emma realised that Regina needed her because she was afraid of something.
Emma understood fear. It had been her constant companion for much of her childhood. She knew how it made people react and how far it could drive them. Fear had made Emma give up her son. It had driven Regina into the arms of Rumple and his manipulations. When Emma was afraid she ran, and when Regina was afraid, she lashed out and both of them were very, very bad at admitting to fear, Regina even more so than Emma. She'd watched Regina all day, hoping but somehow knowing it wasn't just the fear of damage to the mansion (and god that had hurt, not just Regina's anguish but that house...that house was home to Emma now too and seeing it so battered...). While Regina never said anything, she also didn't fight very hard when Emma demanded she rest, and promised she would tell Emma if something was wrong and that, frankly, scared the shit out of Emma.
Because they might have been working a lot on this whole 'being together' thing, but this was still Regina, still the woman with the highest walls Emma had ever met, and no matter how deeply their bond went now, Emma knew better than most how the past could never totally be erased. The woman by her side was the same one who had worn high heels even with a sprained ankle. It wasn't that she was weak. Most everyone beyond their immediate family probably wouldn't notice anything amiss, or if they did, they'd simply chalk it up to Regina's lingering illness. But Emma knew Regina. She knew the difference. This wasn't simple misery over an upset stomach and fever, this was fear, and if Regina was afraid, Emma was terrified, because Emma was wholly, completely in love with Regina, so much so that it almost made her dizzy if she thought about it too much. Loving people hurt. They left, they failed you, or worse: they didn't want you anymore.
Regina wanted her. It was the one thing Emma was completely certain of. Regina loved Henry and wanted Emma. It was the true North of Emma's life these days, somehow Regina became the solid ground beneath her feet and the one she could always count on to tell her the truth.
Except now.
It was the hardest thing Emma had ever done, but instead of pushing, of demanding answers, she waited. She was learning, slowly, how to be with someone. And that meant doing whatever she could to make Regina feel safe. She was rewarded with Regina's closeness, and the way their hands entwined, and Emma told herself over and over again, this was enough. For now, it was enough.
They all poofed back to town where Mal, Emma and Regina began repairing the worst of the damage, and Lily took care of the Harpy carcasses they found. Henry they sent back - over his protests - to the school to check in with Snow and Charming and see if they needed supplies for the night.
By the time they'd walked the length of Main Street, Regina stopped using her magic to repair the pavement and rested her hand on Emma's arm, catching her breath. Emma finished alone, clearing the debris from the street. It was safe enough for cars, and none of the buildings were in danger of collapse, that was what they needed. Regina leaned on her, her fingers clutching Emma's arm tight enough Emma knew she was exhausted.
The protective knot of worry in Emma's stomach flared hot, and she stopped, looking for somewhere to sit down. "We're going to sit," Emma said, forcing herself to smile, "because I'm tired, not because you are."
"I see," Regina answered, and her lips curled, just a little as she straightened.
Emma led them to the wooden bench in front of Granny's. After Regina sat, Emma turned, repairing the shattered windows in diner with glowing magic and a few waves of her hands before she joined Regina on the damp wood of the bench. It was oddly quiet on the street, totally deserted as almost everyone was still in the shelter of the school until it was deemed safe to come out. Mal and Lily were the only people out, farther down the street taking care of the Library and a pile of harpies. In the aftermath of the storm it was a clear day, cool, but not too cold and the sky was bright blue. Emma scooted close to Regina and wrapped her arm around the smaller woman, trying to keep the worry down when Regina let herself be pulled close against Emma's side.
"I don't know how long I'll need to recover, so we're just going to sit here for awhile," Emma said, leaning back in the sunshine, Regina snuggled in against her.
They sat in silence for a while, the sun warming Emma's muscles, easing some of the tension from earlier. But Regina didn't relax. Instead she stayed almost huddled against Emma's side and finally Emma couldn't wait any longer.
"Regina?"
"Hmm?"
"Will you please tell me what's wrong?" Emma asked softly, carefully, because she'd passed the point where she could wait but she didn't want to back Regina into a corner. Her hand smoothed gentle circles up and down Regina's arm, keeping her close but ready to let go if Regina needed space and wishing so very deeply that whatever was wrong it could be fixed as easily as the window behind them.
Regina was silent, but she didn't pull away and Emma tried again. " Does Mal know what's wrong with you? Is it...are you sick?"
Regina straightened at that, turning to Emma, still pale and the color on her cheeks too bright but the shake of her head was emphatic. "No, no, its not that. I'm not...I'm not ill. But it's...I - " she trailed off and Emma reached for her hand, their fingers coming together out of habit.
"You've got me," Emma reminded her. "I'm here, and Henry, and our dragons, even my parents as annoying as I'm sure that is for you, whatever you need, we're here. We're all here. You know that, right?"
Some of the tightness bled from Regina's shoulders and her eyes flicked down then back to Emma's and she nodded, a rueful smile flickering across her lips at the mention of Snow and Charming.
"So if it's not bad then - "
Regina looked around them, at the empty street and the broken shops and let out a breath like she'd been underwater.
"I'm pregnant."