It was going to be a long drive back to Maine, so I thought the family earned a hotel stay. I am very happy with the way this chapter turned out. I can't wait to read your reactions. There are lots of surprises ahead!
Though it was her first time behind the wheel of the yellow bug, Regina managed to drive the remaining distance to the hotel. The events of the last few days had finally caught up with Emma. That headache that she had been ignoring turned into a full-blown migraine, complete with nausea. They barely made it to the Connecticut border before the blonde woman had to pull over.
Upon reaching their destination, Regina reserved a separate room just for Emma, considering the blonde woman's vulnerable state.
"Emma?" She quietly opens the door.
In the seeming void, the older woman detects the weak voice of her cherished girl. "Regina."
Despite the intense darkness, Regina is grateful for the black-out curtains. They shield the susceptible young woman from the street lights below. Feeling her way along the wall, through the abyss, Regina finds the sought light switch. "I need to turn a light on for a minute, honey." She only hopes the glow emitted from the bathroom won't be too harsh for the hypersensitive woman. Thankfully, Emma is lying on her side, facing the opposite direction. "I brought you some soup to take away your chill."
"I don't want to throw up," the younger woman whines.
"I know," Regina sympathizes, setting the container of soup on the nightstand next to Emma. "Just sip it slowly. Maybe it will help."
"I hate feeling like this."
"I'm sorry, sweetie. I know you're in pain."
"I just want it to go away." The younger woman's eyes had been closed this entire time, she doesn't even register that Regina is no longer standing in front of her until she hears the sound of the faucet running.
In an effort to remain calm, Regina does the only thing she imagines might be helpful. She unfolds one of the neatly stacked washcloths, left by housekeeping, and runs it under the tap. Intuitively, she switches the water's temperature from cold to hot. The heat might be better, she rationalizes.
The brunette woman returns. She settles her weight on the edge of the bed, holding the washcloth in place, on her beloved's forehead, willing the heat radiated from the cloth to alleviate Emma's pain.
Regina's tenderness of care stirs a longing deep inside the younger woman. The combination of the heat and her lover's touch are the most comforting things she has ever felt. The weakened woman lightly grasp Regina's wrist. Once her hand has connected with familiar skin, the younger woman noticeable relaxes. This isn't a dream.
After a few minutes, Regina hopes that the comfortable silence is indicative of the fact that Emma has finally slipped into a peaceful slumber. "Just rest now," she whispers. When the brunette woman rises to leave, Emma immediately protests.
"Please don't go away," she requests, gripping the queen's hand in desperation. Her voice is filled with sorrow.
"I need to go check on Charlie, love. She knows you're sick and understands why she has to stay in the other room, but I don't want to leave her for long."
Emma instantly understands why her request for Regina to remain is unreasonable and resigns to the fact. "You should go."
The queen tries to sound reassuring. "I'll be back to check on you soon."
"You don't have to, Regina. I'm fine. I've been through this before. Stay with Charlie, I'll be fine." She didn't mean to sound aloof. She is incredibly frustrated that a stupid headache is preventing her from being with her family.
The only thing Regina hates, more than leaving Emma, is being pushed away. She fights her natural reaction, to become offended, recognizing that the younger woman would not say such things if she wasn't sick. "Try to rest now, my love."
Upon opening the door to the room, conveniently located across the hall, that she and Charlie share, Regina discovers her drooling child, lying on her stomach, at the foot of the bed. Regina infers that the little girl had been lying in that position in order to be closer to the TV, before she fell asleep, and smiles at the image. It is almost nine. No wonder she's tired, Regina recognizes. The endearing child had drifted into slumber, on top of the comforter, still wearing her clothes that she had worn all day. Her Lambie is tucked securely under one arm. The grateful mother delicately turns down the covers of the queen sized bed, the absurdity of which still makes her laugh. If only these peasants had seen the size of my bed in the Enchanted Forest, then they would know what it truly means to be a queen, she muses. Snapping out of her daydream, Regina carefully lifts her snoring baby. Despite her best efforts not to wake her, the tiny princess begins to stir. "Mommy."
"My sweet little love," Regina coos, laying her daughter's head on the fluffy pillows closer to the headboard. "Go back to sleep, honey," she encourages, lightly pushing stray hairs out of her drowsy baby's face and tucking them behind an adorable ear. She begins undoing the button of Charlie's jeans, in an effort to make the little girl more comfortable. At this, the tiny child begins to cry, which scares the life out of the new mother. She halts her movement and braces her upset daughter. "Baby, what's the matter?"
Charlie jolts up and tightly wraps her arms around her mother's neck, instantly relieving the queen's greatest fear. "I don't want Mommy to die!"
The queen is sick. Until now, Regina hadn't dared let her mind entertain this possibility. She inhales deeply, preparing herself to be the voice of reason in this frightening situation. "Charlie," she soothes, kissing her baby's face repeatedly in an effort to calm her apprehension. Her eyes unwillingly fill with tears as she considers an unlikely, yet terrifying, possibility. Meeting her daughter's fretful gaze, Regina assures, "Your mother is not going to die. She's sick. But I promise you, she is not going to die." The queen only hopes that by reiterating her previous statement the child will accept her assertion. "Okay?" The little girl redirects her troubled gaze, toward her mother's lap, and regretfully nods her head in hesitant acceptance. "It's alright, my sweetheart." Regina kisses her daughter's forehead. "Everything is going to be alright. I'm taking care of both of you now." Charlie meets her mother's eyes and offers her a weak smile. "You should get some rest," the queen suggests, lightly petting her precious baby's face. The tiny child nods her agreement with enthusiasm this time. "I don't think you should sleep in jeans though, do you?" Regina makes an effort to sound lighthearted, desiring to shift the mood of the conversation. The little girl's smile widens automatically and she cannot stop a small giggle from erupting. "There's my girl." The queen smiles brightly and she kisses her daughter's forehead again before helping her out of her pants. Once she has tucked her precious gem beneath the covers, Regina inquires, "Would you like me to stay here until you fall back to sleep?" The tiny child happily nods her approval. "Alright, my love." She seals her agreement with another kiss. She absolutely adores her baby and cannot get enough of her cute little face. She settles in the bed, next to Charlie, with her back propped against the headboard.
The exhausted child automatically curls into her mother's side, nestling in the crook of her arm. "Mommy, tell me a story."
As much as the queen detests being caught off guard, she is beyond grateful that Charlie would make such a request. How blissfully normal, Regina relishes. "Well, I…" she hesitantly begins. "I don't have any books with me..." What did she ever do without a script? Nonsense, Regina reflects, she always had a script. An idea occurs to her. "But I think I know a story you might like." She clears her throat with the poise of a monarch preparing to give a royal proclamation. Though congregations of thousands were nothing compared to the audience of a three-year-old. How could she be so afraid of this honey-bunch? Then she recognizes that the pressure is not coming from the little sweetie-pie, but the fear of disappointing her daughter with a lackluster tale. But her baby wants a story, so she is determined to deliver. She begins, "Once…there was a queen…" As soon as she says it, she calms. This is the story she knows best. "And the queen was very lonely," she admits. "Many living under her cold rule feared her, but that was the way the queen wanted it," she adds, meeting her curious daughter's eyes. "She thought that it was better to be feared. Then no one would get close enough to break her heart."
"She didn't have any friends?" The genuine distress in the discerning child's voice causes the queen's heart to swell with pride. Even at the age of three, Charlie already has the ability to put herself in another person's shoes, an ability that many adults are incapable of.
"No sweetheart, she didn't."
"She was sad."
This is my daughter, my heart, and my life, the queen reflects. "Yes." Regina nods in affirmation and hugs Charlie closer. "Yes, she was." "But one day…things changed." The brunette woman's tone is reflective of the memory now playing in her mind. It was their first meeting, the night the undignified blonde arrived in Storybrooke and showed up on her front lawn. "The queen crossed paths with a fair princess." She smiles to herself as she recalls the weak "Hi" of Emma's first greeting. "And the princess was the only one who did not fear the queen." Suddenly Regina remembers the inquisitive three-year-old tucked safely in the crook of her arm. The little one's eyelids a growing heavier, she must be getting lost in the story. "The princess recognized the queen's loneliness and decided to help her. She said, 'I know why you keep people away. You're afraid of having your heart broken.'" "Of course, the queen denied this. She was completely appalled by the audacity demonstrated by the princess." She is on a roll now, in her element of sass. "But, the princess was persistent. She kept trying to befriend the queen and then..." Regina softens, remembering the first time she realized that she had feelings for the boisterous blonde. If she is being honest with herself, she would have to go far back in her memory, to the time when Emma fell into the portal after making Jefferson's hat work. "The queen realized that she was falling in love." She hadn't missed anyone so much, since Daniel was murdered by her mother. What she felt for Emma was completely unexpected and incredibly real. "Though she knew that the princess might one day break her heart, she decided that…Emma was worth it. Love is the only thing worthwhile." She takes a moment to reflect on how far she and Emma had come. They were now together, a family. "Now the queen is no longer lonely." When Charlie doesn't respond, Regina decides to check. "Are you asleep?" When she is answered with a miniature snore Regina smiles in contentment. She shifts the unconscious girl's form, once again, delicately situating her baby's head on the pillows. She walks around to the other side of the bed, and places a feathery kiss on her slumbering girl's forehead, whispering, "Goodnight, my treasure. Princess Emma needs me."
This probably is a bad idea, Regina considers as she nervously paces in the hallway outside Emma's room with her phone in her hand. As she studies the screen, she can see Snow White's annoying face staring back at her. She needs to talk to someone and if she can't talk to Emma, Regina decides, Mary Margaret is the next best person. She only has to wait two rings before her call is answered.
"Regina?"
Just hearing the familiar voice of the mother of the woman she loves is all it takes for Regina to fall apart. She rests her body-weight against the wall outside Emma's room and slumps to the floor. "Regina, what's wrong? What happened?"
Fighting back sobs Regina weakly replies, "Emma."
Jumping to the worst scenario imaginable Mary Margaret begins to panic. "What happened to Emma?! Is she hurt?!"
"She says it's a migraine."
"Regina, you scared me. I thought that something terrible had happened."
"I don't know what to do."
"She gets those sometimes. You just have to let it run its course." She can hear sniffling on the other end as Regina begins to weep. "Are you crying?"
"Help me," she squeaks. It's all that Regina can manage.
"The best thing is for her to stay in a darkened room, in quiet, until it passes." She honestly doesn't understand why her former adversary is so upset.
"I got her a separate room for tonight, she's in there now." As she hears herself say it, she realizes how much the temporary separation hurts her. She never imagined, after helping Emma escape such a frightening existence that they would ever have to spend another night apart. She would be content for the remainder of her life to always fall asleep in that woman's arms.
"Where are you?"
"I don't remember," nor do I care, she thinks, "somewhere in Connecticut." The whole situation has her positively irate.
Luckily for Mary Margaret, she has many years of experience handling Regina's moods. "Everything's going to be alright, Regina. She'll probably feel better in the morning."
Regina delivers an unexpected question, catching the younger woman entirely off-guard. "What if she doesn't?"
"What do you mean?" When her question is only met with silence, the younger woman inquires again. "Regina? What happened that you're not telling me?"
"I don't owe you an explanation! You know damn well what I went through after she left!"
Mary Margaret knows all too well, when Regina is this upset, it's best not to antagonize her. She calmly explains, "You're right. You don't owe me an explanation. I know how much she means to you." Her reassuring words have the desired effect.
Accepting her current circumstances, Regina takes the initiative. "How can I help her?"
"Trust yourself. You know what she needs. You knew to get her a separate room before I even suggested it. You know her."
In the past Regina would have tuned out one of Snow White's infuriating hope speeches, but this time is different. She not only listens to Mary Margaret's words, she accepts them as truth.
The younger woman hears Regina cry harder, immediately registering that the queen is too emotional to respond. "Try not to worry, Regina. Everything is going to be alright." She is optimistic that switching the focus of the conversation to something more positive might gain her a response. "How's my granddaughter?"
It worked. "She's sleeping now. I just finished telling her a bedtime story. She wasn't feeling well yesterday, but she's better today. I think the excitement of meeting her big brother was the best medicine by far." Just talking about her children lifts Regina's spirit.
"So, you did see Henry," the younger woman encourages.
"We did. Charlie adores him, and Henry loves his baby sister." Images of her children meeting for the first time begin filling her thoughts, surmounting all of her fears.
"What happened with him and Emma?"
"Mother and son are back on track. It's as if no time has passed."
"I'm so glad." Noticing that Regina has calmed significantly, Mary Margaret wonders if it's safe to return to the previous topic of conversation. Maybe she shouldn't, she supposes. But that doesn't stop her from asking, "How are you?"
"I'm fine." It's Regina's go-to response. She figured it would suffice to end Mary Margaret's line of questioning.
"You know that doesn't work with me. What's really going on, Regina?"
After all this time and after everything they've been through, the queen recognizes that this woman has earned a heartfelt response. "I'm in love. I'm in love with your daughter and she's sick." She begins to weep. "She's sick, and I can't make her better."
"I'm not worried about Emma. I know you will always put her and your daughter's needs before your own. I am certain that your family is well taken care of. Now it's time to take care of you. Be good to yourself, Regina. What do you need right now to make you feel better?"
She responds without filtering her thought. "I need to be near her. I need my Emma."
"Then, go to her. I'm sure she needs you just as much as you need her."
"Thank you," she whispers.
"Try not to worry."
"Okay." She suddenly remembers the reason for her phone call in the first-place. "Mary Margaret?"
"Yes?"
"Can I ask you to do something for me? It's not really for me, it's for Charlie."
The new grandmother brightens. "My munchkin."
"Munchkin, seriously?" The normalcy of the conversation has Regina feeling like herself again.
"I'm sorry. I just remembered how much you detest munchkins. What can I do for the little princess?"
"I didn't know about Charlie before I left Storybrooke, so I couldn't set up her room. I think it's important for it to be ready when we get there. I want her to feel comfortable in our home, and realize that it's hers too."
Attempting to conceal her excitement, Mary Margaret eagerly inquires, "You need me to decorate my granddaughter's bedroom?"
Once she says it, Regina realizes, there is no going back. She closes her eyes, preparing for the outburst. "Yes," she deadpans.
"Ah! Regina, I'm so excited!"
That was the expected reaction.
The younger woman is suddenly animated. "What does she like? What's her favorite color?"
Fondly recalling the incident at the ice-cream parlor, Regina answers the latter question first. "Pink. Her favorite color is pink." "Now don't get crazy," she quickly reminds.
"I won't, I promise." But, her enthusiasm is evident and carries over to her next question. "What else?"
"She has several stuffed animals that she's bringing: a teddy bear, her Lambie, and a moose, she named Kitty."
"Precious baby." Snow White is overflowing with glee. "Do you think she'd like a few more stuffed animals?"
"Yes. I think she would." Regina gives the younger woman a minute to write down some notes.
"Is there anything else?"
Regina deliberates for a moment before settling on the obvious. "She doesn't have any clothes."
Easily fixed, Mary Margaret muses. She missed out on the opportunity to dress her own little girl when she was growing up. "What size is she?"
"I don't know. Isn't that terrible?" Regina laughs uncomfortably to mask her insecurity. "I'm her mother and I don't know."
"Regina, that's not your fault. It's not. I don't even have Neal's size memorized." She hears Regina scoff in disbelief. "It's true! Did you always have Henry's size memorized when he was little?"
"Of course I did."
"Of course you did." As soon as the question passed her lips she knew the answer. That was stupid.
Normally Regina would enjoy rubbing such in idiotic comment in her future mother-in-law's face. Instead, she decides to focus on the point of the conversation. "She's tiny."
"I could get her a new night gown, so at least she has something to wear to bed. We could take her shopping the next day, if you like."
"I know what I'm asking will be costly—"
"I am happy to do this."
"But, I'm going to pay you back."
"I missed the first three years of my granddaughter's life. I've got a lot of catching up to do. Please, let me spoil her."
"I appreciate that, and I know Charlie will too."
"Which one is Charlie's room?"
"I want to give her the room next to Henry's, it faces east. She loves sunshine, just like her mother." At the mention of Emma, Regina becomes somber. She is crying again.
The once cheerful young woman is instantly saddened. She is all-too aware of Regina's depth of love for her daughter. "Emma's a survivor, Regina. She's going to be alright."
"I know."
"Is there a spare key?"
Returning to an authoritative tone, Regina explains, "Yes. There's a stone pair of love birds next to my walkway, there's a hidden compartment underneath. The key should still be there, I kept it there for years before my magic returned."
"I can't wait for you and your family to come home."
"I can't wait to bring my family home." She cannot believe the words coming out of her mouth. She is bringing her family home. Her family. Home.
"I love you, Regina."
How did they get to this point? Regina wonders. Snow White and the Evil Queen are, not only, civil toward each other; they genuinely care about each other's well-being. Recognizing that this paradox will drive her crazy if she lets it, Regina surrenders to one simple fact. "I love you too."
"Try not to worry."
"Okay."
"Go to Emma."
"I will."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Mary Margaret."
The queen uses another moment to gain composure, before quietly opening the door to Emma's room.
"Regina?"
To the queen's relief, her girl is awake. "I'm back," she announces in a hushed voice, making her way across the pitch, toward the far bed.
"Are you staying?"
"Would you like me to stay?"
When she hears the painfully familiar sound of her fiancée weeping, Regina immediately climbs into bed next to the younger woman and scoots up against her back, wrapping her arm around Emma's trembling form. "Do you still have a chill?"
"It's better now that you're here."
"I'm right here. I'm taking care of you." She hugs the younger woman tighter and kisses her shoulder in reassurance. "Just rest now."
After several minutes of contented silence, the queen feels herself starting to doze. She knows that she will absolutely hate herself for disturbing the sleeping princess, so she slips out of the bed as subtly as humanly possible.
"Regina?"
Shit. Fuck. Mother fucking, damnit! After going through the list of obscenities, Regina accepts her mistake and tries to explain. "I can't fall asleep. I'm worried about not being there if Charlie wakes up. I don't want her to be scared."
Without consideration, the reclined woman commands, with the authority of a queen, "Bring her in here."
Emma's tone comes as quite a shock. Maybe she's delirious, Regina assumes. "Are you sure?"
"I won't be able to sleep without you."
The vulnerability in that comment tugs at Regina's heart. "I'll be right back," she consents and slips out of the darkened room, temporarily blinded by the light in hallway.
After a few minutes had passed, the debilitated woman hears the familiar sound of the key-card in the door. As she listens to the sound of rustling covers in the next bed over, Emma visualizes the mother of her daughter, lovingly tucking their child beneath the sheets.
"I managed not to wake her," Regina whispers, intuition informing her that the blonde woman is still alert. She sidles up next to the blonde. "Are you alright?"
"Just hold me," the younger woman meekly requests.
The queen wraps her arm securely around the younger woman's tense form. "Sleep now, princess. I'm right here." She feels the blonde woman's body relax and she slowly drifts into tranquil slumber.