huge thanks to Wapwani for handholding and Miricleo for finding errors. :)
He loved his moms, and having them live in the same house was everything he hadn't realised he wanted. Mom was happy, happier than she'd been since he was very small, and she hummed when she was cooking and laughed when Emma made terrible jokes about how evil her rules about cleaning were. Emma, who'd always been afraid, wasn't with his mom around. Emma was brave, perhaps one of the bravest people he knew, but she'd always been held back, shy somehow, and she wasn't now. Not with Mom. They just fit, somehow.
Henry stopped counting the number of times he found his mothers asleep together on the sofa, a new trend that would have worried him if they didn't both look...happy. Still, it became a bit of a game in his own mind, 'where am I going to find them next?' He came home from summer school - losing weeks of classes after the storm had pushed school back until July - and found them asleep in the sun in the backyard. One night he had dinner with Belle - she liked having company, and he liked talking research with her - and came home to them asleep with books about magical creatures on the coffee table.
Of course, he would be the first to admit that he'd rather find his moms asleep on the couch than doing, well, other things, but he wasn't quite sure why it kept happening. The website about pregnancy he'd read said Mom would be tired, but he'd never seen her this tired. She came home from the office already half-asleep, and sometimes Emma brought her home early because she was just too tired to stay. Mom hated admitting it, and she wouldn't when anyone else was around, but when it was him and Emma, she'd give in.
Emma found her yawning kind of cute, even though Mom protested a little, Emma's smiling made her grin back and then they just looked at each other. He couldn't watch, but looking away made him kind of happy. They fit together and they needed that.
He knew his moms argued about how long both of them worked, and their jobs being hard would certainly explain why Emma was so tired too, but this went beyond what he expected. Whenever they watched TV together, he woke them up when it ended, just so they could get up and go to bed. If they drifted off in the afternoons, he let them sleep because he was capable of making dinner, doing his homework and entertaining himself until they woke up.
Mal and Lily came over for dinner most days anyway, because Lily didn't like to cook, and Mal didn't see the point of cooking anything other than meat, burnt just a little. Even Emma agreed they needed vegetables sometimes. Henry remembered that day because Mom had looked at Emma with this really gooey proud look and Emma had smiled right back and he'd rolled his eyes at Lily who totally agreed even if they were both holding back grins. Mal had just looked back and forth between them totally clueless. So at least a couple nights a week, it was the five of them, falling into a surprisingly easy habit.
It was still good to have other people around, because they were too cute sometimes (a lot of the time) and they needed time to just be them and in love with each other. So Mal and Lily came over, and after Lily had been working at Granny's for a couple weeks, Ruby started to come too, because she ate at the diner all the time and it was nice to eat something else.
He hadn't realised just how much Mom loved to cook for people, not just him and Emma, until she started putting as much effort into planning weekday dinners 'that were nothing special, Henry' as she did things that were important for the town. These were important to her and even when she was really tired, which was all the time, she wanted the food to be good.
So he helped, hanging out with her in the kitchen and learning to use the sharp knives and read Mom's neatly written recipes so she could have a nap before Emma got home from work. At first she didn't want to leave him to finish something, even when she could barely finish a sentence without yawning, Lily was kind of helpful, because she did try, even if she knew less about cooking than Henry did. When Belle's started to come over more, because her house was lonely too, she was a bigger help in the kitchen Belle was useful at keeping Mal and hot peppers out of anything that others might want to eat. She'd figured out early that Mal loved to argue about anything she thought the Fairy Tale historians had wrong, and they fought so much about the written accounts of life in the old world that often no one had to wake his moms.
Emma and Regina would step into the full kitchen of people, rubbing their eyes and apologising while everyone else smiled and thanked them for letting them take over. Mama always blushed a little, like she didn't know how to say 'thank you' when someone else had made her food so happily, and Mom often had to hide the fact that her eyes stung, but they had each other for that. It worked. He noticed more that his moms were both fragile in ways he hadn't seen, and that they doubted so much that anyone liked them, or wanted to be around them, that friendship and family, and 'nesting' in the way Mal described it, were weird for them both.
Good weird, but good weird often came with emotions that were hard to deal with.
It wasn't perfect, because Emma could still barely speak to her parents without being angry, sad, or just cold to them. Huge parts of Storybrooke still looked at Lily and Mal as if they might rampage down the street and eat people at any moment. Mom was still a little sick, nothing like she had been, but there were mornings when Emma had to convince her to eat toast. She'd been so careful not to look sick in front of anyone (even though he knew, he was almost fifteen) and once or twice, she hadn't been able to help it. She promised it was fine, that it was normal and that the spell was working, because 'it wasn't as bad as it was'. He believed that. Emma always looked after her, and Mal was a text message away, so when it was bad enough that she wouldn't let him help, she would let them.
Eventually, after he'd explained, at least three times, that he wasn't too worried about her, just a little worried, Mom let him read to her when she got her 'too much magic' headaches. On the bad days, she shared them with Emma, because that spell had connected them. When they'd had to do something big with magic, they both suffered afterwards, but eventually they'd trusted him to look after them. Then the house was quiet, but those days were rare.
Henry had never had his house full of people. Most of his life it had been him and Mom. He'd lived in the always-full loft with Emma and his grandparents, but this house, his mom's house, hadn't been full before. Now it had people in it, all the time. It was nice.
Strange and nice, because his life was always strange.
When Cruella and Ursula's came to see Mal and his mothers, their visits were so wild that he heard them after he went to bed. The bottles of wine would all sit empty on the table when he got up in the morning, and those mornings Emma clung to her coffee and they had to speak softly around her. They drank too much of Mom's wine, they made his mothers laugh, and they sang and they didn't have a history. Mom wasn't guilty, Mama didn't have to put what they'd done aside, like she did with his grandparents.
Emma didn't talk about his grandparents or what had happened with Lily. He wasn't even sure if she talked about it with Mom, because it was the kind of subject that went quiet when it was mentioned. When things were bad between him and Mom, he'd struggled. He'd doubted her, thought she hated him and she meant to hurt everyone. It had taken years for them to get back what they'd had.
His grandparents had hurt Mal and Lily by separating them, and he knew that losing a chance to know Lily had wounded his mother too. She loved him, and Lily was his sister, so she loved her now, but she'd missed so much.
His grandparents had stolen Lily, and his Mom had cast the curse so that they sent Emma away, so maybe in a twisted way they were even. Emma was still mad. She had a right to that, and letting people deal with their feelings was important. Maybe they should all talk to Archie. He'd been helpful to Henry, even if he wasn't a real psychiatrist. He'd have to find a delicate way to suggest it, maybe starting with Mom. She'd take it best.
He'd gone down to the docks that afternoon and watched Ursula move the sea around so Mal and Lily could clean out the bay. Getting all the debris clear so the fishing boats could go in and out, had been one of the last big magic tasks of rebuilding the town. Mom and Emma had talked about it, but Mal and Lily wouldn't let them. It was the kind of big magic task that would have emptied them both for days. They were tired enough without that.
On his way home, Henry seen people putting up posters for the big barbeque on Saturday, and the rest of the kids watching the magic in the harbour were all excited for the fireworks.
Mom had agreed to let Mal and Lily handle the fireworks show, and though some of the parents apparently didn't like the idea, all of his school friends thought it was great. They thought it was pretty awesome that Lily had waved her claw at him and Mal had flown close enough above them to knock off two of their hats while they'd been down by the water. Being the Mayor's son had been bad enough, being the Saviour's and the Evil Queen's kid had been worse, because no one really even talked to him. Being friends with dragons was cool.
Not that he needed to be cool. It was just better than being alone. Wondering who'd be home now, Henry parked his bike in the garage and let himself in through the side door. He regretted his timing when he walked into the living room.
His grandparents sat on the sofa, coffee in front of them, and his moms sat on the other sofa. Mom hid a yawn behind her hand and he knew that if they weren't here, she'd be asleep.
Emma's cool stare and folded arms left Snow and Charming to lead the conversation.
"Emma, we-" Snow started and Emma shook her head.
"You can't just say something was the right thing to do and make it right. It doesn't work like that. You can think you were right and still be wrong," Emma said, with the kind of annoyance that suggested that she'd already said something similar a few times in this argument.
Henry recognised the unending discussion and picked up his phone. One sure way to make it stop was to have Mal in the house, and from the tone of Emma's voice and the way his Mom kept forcing her eyes open, this wasn't the right afternoon to bring this up again. It was bad enough that they were both so tired all the time, Being emotional on top of that was too much. They needed a break, even if it was just long enough to have dinner.
He sent a quick text to Mal, who preferred to appear, rather than reply, and went to sit with his moms. He could have retreated to his room, but this was his problem too. Maybe he could help Emma, somehow. He knew what it was like to have a hard time forgiving his mom, and she'd done some awful things back in the Enchanted Forest. However, she'd be the first to take responsibility for her old ways and all the hurt she'd caused. His grandparents didn't get that. Not yet, anyway.
Regina put an arm around Henry, and it wasn't just to welcome him. She hid a yawn in his shoulder, and the way she leaned on him suggested that yeah, she was barely keeping herself awake. What would his grandparents think? He knew why his moms didn't want to tell everyone about the baby yet, but Mom was always so unstoppable. She came after him the same day she'd been rescued from torture. Her sister had flung her through the clock tower and she was still okay. Yeah, she was technically okay now, but she was so tired that she could have been awake all last night. Maybe they were claiming that she'd been on the night shift of patrol, or something.
"Sorry," Mom said when she yawned again. This time she didn't even lift her head from his shoulder. He patted her arm and looked at his grandparents. David probably wouldn't see it, but Snow, she had to notice. She usually paid attention to his mom; noticed things about her that other people didn't. Willing her to see how tired Regina was, Henry stared at his grandmother. Her expression softened, and maybe he was being blunt somehow.
Snow paused, as if she'd heard Henry's concerns even though he hadn't voiced them. She turned her eyes from Emma to Mom. "We should go," she said. She hadn't responded to Emma's statement, and wouldn't, but if she and David let things go for the moment, then at least his mom could take a nap before dinner.
Standing to lead them to the door, Emma's cold look faded when she brought her gaze to him and Regina. She'd been trying to 'live in the now' because Mal said it would help. Most of the time, now for Emma meant gooey looks at his mom, and lots of hugs.
"I'll see you out," Emma said, losing her softness when she looked away from Regina and Henry. Magic hissed from the entryway, and Snow and David's exit was blocked by Mal and Lily's arrival in a cloud of silver smoke. Mal smiled one of her toothier grins, the kind that reminded him of Shark Week. Lily's stare was so much colder than Emma's.
"Hello, Snow, Charming," Mal said, her smile fading. She somehow had the appropriate amount of teeth now. However she did that was still a mystery, and it was a good thing Lily didn't know the trick, because she would have made it the threat Mal hadn't. Well, hadn't entirely.
"They're just leaving," Emma interrupted, and her frustrated glare faded when Regina yawned again, this time hiding behind Henry's head. He squeezed Mom's hand, wishing he could help. Nothing would make it stop, unless she slept, and sometimes even that didn't help as much as he thought it should. If she wasn't careful, her nap would continue until the middle of the night. Then she'd wake up hungry and apologetic. He'd come downstairs to remnants of midnight snacks a few mornings, and those days Emma drank a lot of coffee.
"Good evening, Maleficent, Lily," Snow said. "Why are you-" she started to ask then stopped.
"Dinner," Mal replied with a hint of the dragon again. "I'm a terrible cook."
Even furious, Lily nodded and smiled a little at her mom. They were trying so hard and Henry was so proud of them both. "She is, so I am" she added. "We'd live on takeout from Granny's."
"And deer," Mal interjected, resting a hand on Lily's shoulder. "That would probably go badly for the local herds."
Grandpa shuddered a little, because he'd raised animals and he felt for them. Grandma only nodded. She'd probably killed a lot of deer when she'd been a bandit. "Between you and the wolves, they wouldn't stand much of a chance," Snow agreed.
"Exactly," Mal said, and this time her smile was gentle. It was almost her real smile, the one that didn't have any danger at all.
"Excuse us," Mom said, grabbing Emma's hand and tugging her back, away a few steps. They argued, because it definitely wasn't just talking. Mom's hands moved too quickly and Emma looked too annoyed, and somehow they kept their whispering low enough that no one could hear them. When they returned, Emma stared at the floor, not happy about how it had resolved.
"We'd like you to stay for dinner," Emma said, not making eye contact with her parents. Regina nudged her and she looked up and Henry felt nothing but pity for her, because he knew what it was like to have that look from Mom. It was impossible to get out of.
"We wouldn't want to intrude," Snow said, looking at David.
"I know Granny has the kid," Emma said, biting her lip a little. "And Regina's already made lasagna, and you know she always makes too much."
"I don't," Mom protested, and Emma squeezed her hand.
"You do, and it's delicious," Henry added. "Lily and I can make salad and garlic bread."
"That sounds-" Mom started towards the kitchen, but Emma caught her arm.
"You're taking a nap," Emma said, making it as much of a command as she could. "You're exhausted."
Henry saw the protest die in Mom's eyes. She knew Emma was right and she was getting better and giving in.
"Okay."
Emma kissed her, and all the command of a moment ago turned into concern. "I'll come wake you up before dinner."
"Why don't you take her upstairs?" Snow suggested, watching the two of them. Henry turned his attention to her, studying her face. Did she suspect something or was she just looking after his moms? She'd always been kind of protective of Mom, even when she didn't need to be.
Mom was badass, but at the moment, so very tired that she didn't even argue. She took Emma's arm and they headed up together. Neither of them complained and Henry suspected that when Mom lay down, Emma would fall asleep right beside her.
Once they were gone, Snow looked at Henry, and when she realised he'd never tell, she turned her eyes to Mal. "Is she okay?"
"Exhausted," Mal answered. That was an easy truth. "She took the late patrol with Mulan." That was a lie. Henry knew none of them would have let Mom take a late patrol. She was tired enough as it was. Even on her days off, when she didn't go into the office, or try to deal with whatever crisis Storybrooke had that day, Mom was still tired.
"Is that wise?" Snow demanded, following them into the kitchen. "Should you and Emma be letting her?"
Henry had to look away. Snow didn't have Emma's superpower, but he wasn't sure he could stop himself from blushing or smiling when he shouldn't have.
Luckily, Mal had no such problems with untruths. "Why wouldn't we allow Regina to protect the town?"
Snow and David looked at each other. David shrugged and helped Lily take the makings of the salad out of the fridge. She didn't like him being near her, but Mal wanted her to learn to be civil. In fact, it would probably make everyone a lot happier if all of them learned to be civil.
"Is she still recovering from that flu?" Snow asked, and again, almost to Henry's surprise, lying came easily. "It was worse than she told anyone, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," Henry said, focusing on the knife in his hands. "Mal and Emma needed a special spell to make her better." He'd almost said cure, but the binding spell wasn't a cure, just a way of stopping all the a truly awful pregnancy stuff. Mom still threw up, had headaches and took more naps that he had when he'd been four, but that was better than she'd been.
"And that worked so well that you thought she should be on the night shift for this patrols?" Snow asked, shaking her head. "She's exhausted."
"You know how Mom is," Henry said, trying to steer the conversation away from what his Mom was and wasn't supposed to do. "No's not something she understands."
Mal patted his shoulder. "Emma's with her."
Lily smiled too. "They've gotten so much better," she said, chopping a pepper. Snow looked at her curiously, so did David, and for once, she didn't glare back at them.
"What was wrong with Emma?" David asked and Snow followed his eyes. "Was she sick too?"
"No, no," Mal promised. She had no interest at all in vegetables and just sat nearby with a glass of wine in her hand. "Healing magic can be tricky." This was only half a lie, and that made it easier to listen to without worrying about giving something away. "Emma spent much of her own strength trying to ease Regina's illness. Magic, like any other part of the body, can be over exerted and pushed beyond exhaustion. If you think of it as something physical, Emma ran a marathon that she hadn't trained for to heal Regina, and we keep asking her to keep running. We need her to protect the town, and now she needs to recover. Healing Regina took a great deal of effort and repairing the town has been a constant drain. It'll take time to recover, for both of them. The only reason Lily and I aren't exhausted as well is because we're not human."
Mal added more wine to her glass, poured a glass for Lily and a small splash of wine in a cup for him. He couldn't stand the taste of it, but she always let him try it. Then she and held up the bottle to his grandparents. David accepted quickly, and then Snow, a bit more reluctantly. "Emma and Regina have also searching for some kind of winged horror-"
Henry watched the looked his grandparents shared and realised that convincing them that Lily hadn't killed Whale or King George was still going to take some work. "They'll find it and stop it," he said. Of course they would. "They just need a few naps," he said with a shrug. He hadn't realised how well hidden it was that his moms slept all the time. Henry always saw them at home, when their guard was down.
His grandma nudged David's arm as they took their wine from Mal. Whatever she wanted him to realise didn't seem to have sunk in, because she continued to hint and Grandpa didn't get it. Henry watched until his grandma looked over at him and they shared a moment of silent conversation. She knew about the baby, or at least suspected. She'd been pregnant less than a year ago, so that was logical.
Mom and Emma were going to have to say something soon. Some of Mom's clothes already looked different on her, and he'd heard her complain to Emma that her black skirt hadn't zipped right. He understand that it must have been hard to tell. They'd struggled telling him and it would be much more complicated telling Emma's parents. Mom had been responsible for the circumstances that led Snow and David to not be able to raise Emma, and they'd physically taken Lily from her mother.
Lily still carried a lot of anger for them both, and he didn't blame her. Dragons had a genetic memory, so whenever she smelled them, she remembered the scent of the hands who'd taken her away from her mother. It was a lot to ask her to live with. That must have been why Mal put so much garlic in front of Lily for the garlic bread that the whole kitchen reeked of it. The garlic bread would be dangerous pungent, but the thick scent of it took much of the anger out of her face.
"What have you done to the kitchen?" Emma said, pausing in the doorway to rub her eyes. Her hair was a little messed up and from the circles under her eyes, "Are we worried about vampires or something?"
"The garlic bread's intense," Snow said. Something about the way she looked at Emma, and Henry's wondering that she knew settled into a kind of certainty. "You might want to warn Regina."
Emma nodded, only half paying attention. She probably wasn't worried because Mom really wasn't sick to her stomach any more. Grandma was fishing for information, and from the way Snow looked at her, she knew. Maybe Emma hadn't realised because she was tired, or still so angry with her parents. Henry saw the look on Snow's face. Were his moms ready to talk about the baby? What was Grandma going to think?
Emma looked at the wine bottle in the middle of the table. "May I?"
Mal shrugged. "It's your wine."
Henry chuckled and correct her. "It's Mom's wine."
Emma glared at him a little over her glass as she poured. "You owe us about a case now," she said, pretending to be annoyed.
Mal dug into her pocket and produced the gold and black card she still didn't know how to use. "You can put it on this," she said, smiling with pride.
Henry smirked and Emma actually laughed. "What am I supposed to do with that?"
"You put things on it," Mal repeated, looking at Henry. "That's how it works."
Shaking her head at her mother, Lily took the steaming garlic bread out of the oven and set it on top of the stove to cool. "You can't use cards with people. You use them in stores, and not Granny's because we still haven't fixed the machine." She smiled though, because Maleficent was trying. "Lasagna's almost done. Someone should go wake Regina."
Snow started to move and Henry stood from his chair. Better if it was him. He could warn Mom. "I got it."
Emma looked at him like she was being abandoned. Henry touched her shoulder and looked at Mal. She was here, she'd keep things together. Lily was trying so hard to be civil too. It was just dinner, they'd get through this.
"Be right back," Henry promised, more for Emma than anyone else. Mal and his grandparents were having a perfectly normal conversation about how strange money was in this world and Lily was concentrating on dinner. They'd be okay. At least, long enough for him to get Mom downstairs.
She was already half-awake when he knocked, and she invited him in. She ran her fingers through her hair, then sighed and pulled it back. "Have there been food fights?"
Henry shook his head and she put her hand on his shoulder. Her smile's so much easier now, and even though she joked about wanting to spend half the day asleep, she was happy.
"Thanks," Mom said. She put her arm around his shoulders as they walk downstairs.
"For what?"
"Keeping the peace," she whispered. Pausing outside the door to the dining room, she took a moment to wrinkle her nose. "Did you have to use all the garlic?"
"There's some garlic bread for non-dragons," he promised. "We just needed to help Lily. That smell thing."
"Right," Mom said. She squeezed his hand again, and they went in together.
Snow and Charming hadn't noticed the hint of magic she used to take the alcohol out of her wine. Regina couldn't help being pleased with that, because it let her drink from the same bottle that Mal, Lily and Emma were working quickly through. She hadn't had to lie again about being ill, or tired, or having a headache. It was going to be easier just to let everyone know so they could gossip to their hearts' content about their pregnant mayor, but Emma wasn't ready, and maybe she wasn't either. It was one thing to wish it was out, and would probably be quite another to have to deal with it. Luckily, she'd probably avoid being invited to Ella's baby club, or having to sit through the baby shower nonsense Snow had.
Her thoughts drifted too far and she spilt her wine all over her lap. Regina barely had time to realise what she'd done, before her lap was cool and wet. Emma started helping her pat it dry and Mal passed over her napkin. Her trousers were thoroughly soaked, so she excused herself, smiling a little because Mal was much more upset about the waste of wine.
And Emma, sweet Emma, who was trying so hard not to fight with her parents, had started teasing Mal back and even Lily had a little smile and it was all right. For a moment or two, they'd had a family meal, even with the strangest extended family that she could conceive of.
Taking off her wine-soaked trousers in the laundry room, Regina dropped them into the washer and took a pair from the pile she'd intended to iron. She threw them on, even though the button didn't quite reach and she'd have to hid that under her sweater. They'd fit when she'd worn them last. had that only been a week or two ago? She stopped fussing with the button because they weren't going t fit unless she used magic, and spending any more magic was just going to bring on one of those headaches. She didn't need that.
She just let her sweater cover up the fact that her trousers didn't fit, and forced herself to relax. No one would notice.
It ended up being just in time. "Why don't you just use magic?" Snow asked from the door of the laundry room.
Regina startled, pausing as she threw more clothes into the washer so the load wasn't a waste. "They're black, it won't stain."
"You don't even have to use the washing machine though, do you?" she continued, taking a step closer. "You could just magic the whole thing, and then magic it into the drawers and-"
"Habit," Regina answered, because Snow was right. She could use magic. She wouldn't, because she had gotten so used to the rhythm of washing laundry over the years with Henry. There's something nice about it, knowing it's been done.
"So it wouldn't take too much magic?" Snow wondered and there was something so expectant on her face.
Regina's obviously meant to say something, but she wasn't not sure what Snow wanted. "No, not really."
"Repairs are harder?"
"Much," Regina replied, rubbing the back of her neck. "Wires and plumbing are so complicated. Houses are easy enough, but getting all the infrastructure back-"
"And that's made you tired?"
Realisation hit Regina with the same speed as the wine had hit her lap. She knew what Snow wanted her to say and what Snow was about to ask. "Yes-" Regina began, but that wasn't the answer Snow was looking for.
"Not something else?" Snow pressed.
Regina stood there, hand on the washing machine like an idiot. "Something else?" She wasn't going to say it and for an insane moment, she contemplated poofing out of there. Just leaving before she had to admit that she was pregnant.
"You're pregnant, aren't you?"
Regina wanted to say no, but she nodded. "How did you-?"
"I remember how tired I was," Snow said, and her little smile was kind of beautiful. "We were still trying to hold the kingdom together, because we knew you were coming, and I had so much that I needed to do, but I just couldn't stay awake."
Regina's lips curled into a smile. "I can't."
"It's hard," Snow said and sympathy from her was as strange as it had always been. "Congratulations."
Regina nodded, but her face began to flush pink. She had no reason to be embarrassed, but her skin reacted. Her heart went tight and warm in her chest.
"How did you?" Snow continued, and Regina remembered how many questions she used to ask about everything when she was younger. "I mean, did you and Emma ask Maleficent for help?"
Regina stared, dumbfounded. "What?"
"You and Maleficent had Lily, I thought, well, I thought maybe you and Emma asked her to donate-"
Blinking at Snow in confusion, Regina finally got it. She grinned and bit back a laugh. "No, no, it's-" she stopped, because their baby wasn't an 'it'. "She's Emma's."
"Emma's?" Snow's eyes went bright and soft, and her voice broke. "You and Emma are having a baby."
"Magic," Regina explained. She shrugged and then Snow grabbed her, holding her so tightly that she stumbled back.
"A baby," Snow whispered, and Regina nodded again. Releasing her, Snow held her shoulders and studied Regina's face. What was she looking for? "That's why you were sick. Why were you running a fever? Are you all right? What happened?"
There was barely any space to step back, so Regina held still while Snow moved closer. She touched Regina's face, and something very soft gleamed in her eyes. "The magic wasn't right. Emma fixed it."
"Emma," Snow said, turning the word into a prayer. "She-"
"She takes care of me," Regina promised, wishing she could take some of the worry from Snow's face. She didn't know how to deal with worry, didn't understand it, especially not when it was directed at her.
"She does," Snow repeated. "You're pregnant." The tears in her eyes overwhelm Snow's lashes and one of the them started down her cheek. "Oh Regina-"
She hugged her again, holding her tighter, and Regina had no idea if this was the embrace of her baby's grandmother or of the child she once so reluctantly raised. It was both, somehow, and she had even less of a notion of which part of her hugged back.