A/N: HELLO MY GLORIOUS SWAN QUEENERS, I do hope you all survived the finale! I've been curled up in a ball of tears and snot for most of today so the fact that I actually remembered to put this chapter up is nothing short of a miracle. It's another shorter one, I'm afraid - I'm trying to build up the story, please don't hate me! I'll try to post chapter 6 very soon :)

Also if anyone wants to have a screaming fangirling coversation about the season finale (because I, for one, LOVED THE ARSE OFF OF IT) then please leave me a message on tumblr! We'll have tea and we'll cry together. I'm starsthatburn over there too.

Hugs and snogs,

starsthatburn xxx

Chapter Five

'I know that you've been blaming your mom for all of this, Henry,' August said, slowly stirring his spoon through his cup of black coffee. 'But, honestly, I don't actually think that Regina can be held responsible for most of what has happened. Things are more complicated than that.'

The boy plucked a marshmallow from the top of his cocoa, sighing. When he looked back up at the man sat before him, his hazel eyes held a confused mixture of reluctance and relief.

'I know.'

August frowned. 'You do?'

'Yeah,' Henry offered him a tiny smile. 'I was angry at her at first: she wouldn't tell me what had happened with Emma and with that man, but when I saw him on the news I recognised him from our garden. And then she wouldn't go and see Emma, even though when she came back home from City Hall that day she locked herself in her office and cried for an hour. I was angry at her because she was pretending not to care, and that was kinda worse than her actually not caring at all. But… I know it's not really her fault. She feels really bad and she did go and see Emma eventually, even if it didn't go very well.'

'When was that?' August asked, casually sipping his coffee.

'Saturday, I think,' Henry's forehead crinkled. 'And then last night.'

The man blinked. 'She went again?'

'She said that she was worried about her.'

'And how did it go?'

'I don't know,' Henry shrugged. 'I fell asleep before she got home. And then when I woke up this morning she went off to work early again, so I couldn't ask her.'

'Ah,' August smiled. 'I was wondering how you managed to get her to agree to let you see me.'

'She doesn't need to know,' Henry grinned, draining half of his mug in one go. 'I don't think she trusts you very much.'

'And so she shouldn't,' August said with an odd twinkle in his eye. 'I am certainly not one to be trusted.'

Henry laughed, finishing off his cocoa before he looped the straps of his backpack onto his shoulders. 'I need to get to school now, anyway. Do you want to walk me to the bus stop?'

August's blue eyes flicked over to the clock behind the diner's counter: it was getting close to half past eight.

'Can't, kiddo,' he replied with a regretful shrug. 'Prior engagement.'

'Okay,' Henry smiled, leaping up from his seat. 'Thanks for the cocoa, August. I'll see you around.'

'See you, buddy,' he said, leaning back in the booth with his arm hooked over the leather seat. He watched the boy scuttling out of the door, his enormous backpack weighing him down as he walked to the bus stop alone.

For the next ten minutes August watched the clock, his eyes growing narrower and his brow furrowing with concern. And then finally the door chimed open, a familiar mess of blonde hair and red leather darting in from the street.

'I was beginning to worry about you,' he said as Emma slipped into the seat opposite him, gesturing to Granny to bring over her usual drink.

'Not necessary,' Emma said, not looking up to meet his gaze. 'Have you been here all morning?'

'I've been kept busy.'

'You should really get a job,' Emma rolled her eyes, shrugging off her jacket. August took that moment to scan her face, taking in the now familiar, ugly bruises and the murky circles beneath her eyes. He quickly noticed that something was different, however: the pinkness of her eyes had subsided slightly. She wasn't stifling her usual, aching yawns.

'Have you slept?' he asked with interest, leaning forwards across the table. Emma's eyes flicked up to meet his for just a moment, watching as curiosity and something that closely resembled relief swept across his face. She shrugged.

'In a sense.'

'...how's that? You've either slept or you haven't.'

Emma paused, nodding to thank Granny as she brought over her hot chocolate with cinnamon, before leaning back in her seat. She sighed. 'I passed out. Got absolutely hammered and ended up sleeping it off for about six hours.'

August couldn't help but laugh, watching as Emma too let a tiny smile tug at the corners of her mouth. 'And how the hell did that come about? Mary Margaret surely can't have been on board with that little scheme.'

'She wasn't there.'

The laughter stopped. August's eyes narrowed. 'What?'

Emma shrugged. 'She had to go out.'

Suddenly, it made sense to him: Henry said that Regina had gone round because she had been worried about her. This was why.

'Ah,' August said slowly, watching as Emma took a reluctant sip of the drink that she always ordered but never managed to finish. Suddenly desperately curious as to how the mayor's little house call had actually gone, he asked, 'So you were… on your own? All night?'

Emma nodded, not looking up. 'Mm-hm.' Her shaking fingers ticked against the side of her cup.

The sheriff may have had an aptitude for calling other people's bullshit, August wryly noted, but she certainly didn't possess much of an ability for covering up her own. Seizing the opportunity, he let his usual filthy smile spread across his face. 'You liar! You had someone with you, didn't you? Who?'

'It's not important.'

'Emma…'

'August, I promise you – it's nothing like that. Don't get your hopes up.'

'If it's nothing like that then why won't you tell me who it was?'

'Because it's… it's weird.'

'I like weird. Was it Leroy?'

'August! Jesus!' Emma rolled her eyes, forcing herself not to laugh. Eventually she let out a sigh, knowing without question that she would come to regret this decision. 'Okay, fine – it was Regina. She came to check on me.'

There it was.

'The mayor?' August said, stitching a frown across his forehead. 'Really? Doesn't she—?'

'Hate my guts?' Emma interjected, shrugging. 'Yeah. She does.'

'Well. That's certainly an interesting development, then.' His blue eyes watched her intently as she shifted about in her seat, nervously wetting her lips. 'How did that go?'

There was a pause as Emma dragged her thumbnail along the edge of the table.

'It was…' she started, immediately faltering. Despite the broken bone that ran through it, she wrinkled up her nose in confusion. 'It was odd.'

'Ah. She didn't try to cast a spell on you, did she?'

Emma let out a snort of laughter. 'Not exactly.'

'Then what happened?'

'I don't know. I…' she sighed, resting her hand against her tired eyes for a moment. 'I don't remember a lot of it. I mean, I was really shit-faced. But… I don't know. I just remember her being there: I remember sitting on the kitchen floor, and then suddenly she was there and she was helping me up the stairs. Then she sat with me until I went to sleep. Everything else is a bit blurry.'

August blinked: that didn't sound right. 'Wait… are you sure you weren't dreaming?'

'I wasn't that drunk, August,' she said dryly. 'And I don't tend to hallucinate when I drink, anyway.'

'But, for Regina…' he swallowed, shaking his head. 'I'm sorry – it just seems a bit… out of character.'

Emma's green eyes snapped up to examine him for a moment. 'Yeah. I guess it does. But… I don't know. Maybe it was some kind of maternal thing. Or maybe she really does just feel guilty for what happened.'

August remained silent. This hadn't exactly been what he'd expected: when he'd arrived in Storybrooke, finding out that the Evil Queen was not only a mother but a damn dedicated mother at that had been a shock that he still hadn't quite managed to recover from. And now this had happened – not only was Regina displaying traces of actual, discernible humanity… but she was doing so for the Saviour, of all people. Of her own free will, she was trying to ensure that Emma Swan was okay.

Something wasn't quite adding up for him.

'Can I ask you something, Emma?' he asked slowly. She swallowed her tiny mouthful of cocoa, nodding.

'Yeah, of course.'

'Since… what happened,' he said tentatively, trying to ignore the sheriff's wince. 'How have you and Regina been?'

She frowned. 'I don't know – I haven't really seen her.'

'I know. But she's still been to see you twice now,' he said. 'On those occasions – how were things?'

'I don't really know what you're asking…'

'Was there fighting?' he clarified, resting his elbows on the table. 'Were things how they normally are?'

Emma paused, thinking about it. She couldn't remember a great deal of the night before, but the feeling of Regina's arm wrapped tightly around her waist and then, later, her cool hand rubbing a tiny circle on her shoulder was still solid and undeniably real. She remembered snapping at her. She also remembered crying against her.

'Not exactly,' she said, frowning. 'I mean, we're never going to be making each other friendship bracelets or anything, but… no. It was different. We were still arguing with each other and I'm pretty sure that she still thinks that this whole thing is my own stupid fault anyway, but… something was different. It was almost like she gave a shit. And not just because Henry had asked her to pretend to.'

August fell silent once more, looking down at the table.

So the Evil Queen is capable of that, he thought to himself. That is interesting.

'I suppose you do have a lot in common,' he slowly offered, watching as Emma's face creased into a frown.

'We have Henry in common.'

'More than just that,' he said. Emma only shrugged.

'If you say so,' she said, finally abandoning her hardly-touched cocoa. 'Really, I'm just glad that the constant attempts at trying to fuck me over might have stopped for a little bit. That's certainly a relief.'

As she pulled her red jacket back on, August offered her a small smile. 'Yeah. That's good to hear.'

'I've got to go, anyway,' she said, sliding out of the booth and throwing her money down onto the table. 'See you around, August. No doubt Mary Margaret will have confiscated my whiskey by now, so I'm sure I'll be back at the usual time tomorrow.'

She left the room with her blonde curls caught beneath the collar of her jacket, not bothering to tug them free. August watched her go, his face sinking into a thoughtful frown.

'That's very good to hear,' he repeated to himself, clasping his fists together on top of the table. When Granny came over to ask him if he wanted a refill, he shook his head. Instead he straightened out the lapels of his own leather jacket and rose to his feet, returning to his hotel room with curiosity ticking away at his temples and the nagging, persistent image of the Evil Queen helping the Saviour up the stairs prodding at the backs of his eyes.

'Mom?' Henry suddenly appeared in the doorway of Regina's study. She jumped, dropping the small piece of paper that she had been holding back onto the desk.

'Henry,' she said, resting her elbows on the edge of the table. 'Is everything okay?'

'Can I come in?'

'Of course you can, sweetie,' she said, watching as he shuffled into the room. She realised with a jolt that he hadn't stepped foot in that office in at least a year.

He took a seat in one of the enormous armchairs in front of his mother's desk, his feet not quite reaching the ground. 'I wanted to ask you something.'

'Go ahead,' she replied.

'About Emma.'

Regina tried to supress a wince. 'I guessed as much.'

Ignoring the hurt that was bubbling up at the back of her throat, wondering when exactly her son had become completely unable to talk to her unless it was with regards to Emma Swan, she waited for him to speak.

He took a deep breath. 'She's not getting better.'

'I know, Henry. But it's only been a week.'

'You saw her last night,' he said quietly. 'How was she?'

For a moment, Regina could only purse her lips together. Henry watched her, half expecting her to explode with annoyance and send him out of the room.

In the end, she simply deflated. Leaning back in her chair, she sighed, 'I'm as worried about her as you are, Henry.'

The boy blinked. 'You are?'

'Of course I am,' she frowned. 'Henry – again with the Evil Queen routine? I am quite capable of empathy, you know.'

Henry sighed, shaking his head. 'I know you are. I'm sorry, Mom. I just… I don't get to see her anymore.'

'That's not my fault—'

'I know it's not,' he interrupted, his eyes suddenly glassy. 'I didn't mean it like that. I just meant… I miss her. She won't let me see her because she still doesn't feel better, but I don't know how to make her feel better. But she lets you in – she let you help her.'

'She didn't really let me do anything, Henry,' Regina muttered, looking down at the desk. 'I had to fight a pretty hard battle with her last night.'

'That's what you two always do,' he replied, his eyebrows knitting together. 'But this is different now, isn't it?'

Regina swallowed. 'I suppose so. Miss Swan is… well, Miss Swan isn't Miss Swan at the moment. She needs some support to get her back there.'

'And that's the thing,' Henry immediately leapt on the idea, leaning forwards in his chair. His feet dangled excitedly beneath him. 'She needs support from us.'

Regina narrowed her eyes at the word. 'Us?'

'Yeah.'

'Henry – please don't be mistaken. Just because I went to check that she was okay doesn't mean that I in any way want to be friends with Miss Swan. I was just trying to be… nice.'

Henry struggled to supress a smile. 'Mom. You do know that you don't actually hate her, don't you?'

'I never said I hated her,' she said flatly. 'But I most certainly don't like her.'

'No. You're just scared of her,' Henry corrected. His mother blinked in surprise. 'Neither of you realise it, but you're both scared of each other – you're fighting over me all the time, because you think that if the other person's around then I won't want to see you anymore. But you don't have to be scared of each other, because I want you both around. And, honestly, Mom? Right now Emma's scared of everyone. She doesn't need to be frightened of you too.'

The mayor opened her mouth to say something, and promptly failed. Her son smiled.

'You just need to let her know that she doesn't have to be afraid of you,' he said. As if it were that simple. 'Once she knows that we're waiting for her whenever she's ready to come back – then she'll do it.'

Regina shook her head to herself, still leaning back in her chair. 'And what makes you think that I want her to come back?'

'You do,' Henry said simply. 'I can tell.'

Rolling her eyes, Regina said, 'Are you really only ten?'

'So you tell me.'

'Then you're too smart for your age,' she said, shaking her head at him. Then she sighed once more. 'Fine. I'll try… reaching out, if you think it'll help. But I'm only doing this for you, Henry – you don't deserve to feel abandoned by that woman all over again.'

He ignored this last comment. 'It's for you too though, Mom – you just don't want to admit it.'

'Henry—'

'Not having to hate her can only be a good thing – and so can not having to keep feeling guilty about her,' he interrupted, slowly getting up from his chair. He began to walk towards the door, his forehead creased with thought. 'Emma's nice, Mom. And she's definitely not scary. She just needs family around her, and we're the closest thing that she's got to that.'

At that, Regina jumped. 'Henry. Miss Swan is not—'

But her son had slipped out of the door, retreating through the house and leaving the mayor to her paperwork. She sighed to herself, slouching down in her chair in a way that she absolutely never did when her son was around to witness it.

The photo of Emma that she'd been looking at when he had walked into the room lay face down on the desk in front of her. She picked it up once more, examining the angry, teary eyes before her for the tenth time that week.

You don't have to be afraid of each other.

Perhaps not, she thought, shoving the photograph back into the bottom drawer of her desk with a sigh. Perhaps having one less enemy could only be a good thing.