A/N: Huge(ish) chapter, so huge response? *puppy eyes* Also, if you want to hit me up on twitter, I am at galsbeingpals and I adore friends.
BREAK
We sit in silence in the car on the way to the hospital. It's not uncomfortable, we're just both thinking. And we have a lot to think about. Not for the first time, I wish I could read Regina's mind, but I check myself. She deserves privacy, she deserves to choose when she lets me in, she deserves time and trust, and I can give her that. I want to give her that. And yet, I can't completely control my curiosity. It frustrates me, but I want to know everything about her. All her secrets, all her memories, all the things that make her who she is.
I know her, I tell myself. But at the same time, I wish I knew all of her, and not just the parts she's ready to show me. What happened to her? Who hurt her? Who didn't she fight? I think it must have been her parents, her family… But she's such a loving mother. I wonder where she learned it, but I realise that's foolish. I can love, I really can. Maybe not myself, but Henry, Regina… You don't need to feel loved to be able to love others. Sometimes I think they're almost separate emotions.
I watch her driving; she watches the road, not even glancing at me. She seems almost haunted. I want to reassure her, I want to be her knight in shining armour and chase her ghosts and demons away.
She pulls up in the parking lot and still we sit, not speaking, until something seems to click inside her and she finds her smile again. She's Henry's mom, now. She's beautiful like this, but I can't forget her expression a moment ago. He shouldn't know her pain, I guess she's right to do it, to hide that part of herself from him, but… Somehow I feel horribly hurt on her behalf, hurt that she cannot even be her whole self with her beloved son.
"He'll be very happy to see you," she tells me. I smile. If she can do it, so can I.
"I can't wait," I say honestly.
We walk through the hospital. We reach Henry's ward; he's sitting up, but still in bed. The other children are more mobile. I wonder if I should be worried. If Regina is, she masks it perfectly.
As we get closer, I see how pale Henry is. He's clutching Jet tightly to his chest, and I see a tube going into his central line. Regina catches something in his expression and whisks a bowl off his dresser, putting it under his chin just in time.
I've seen kids puke before, plenty of times. Bugs spread like wildfire in the group homes. But it was never quite like this. Henry seems to be emptying his entire body, and yet, when he looks up from the bowl, he smiles like it's Christmas morning.
"Emma!" he exclaims happily. "You came back."
"Hey, little firebreather," I say weakly, remembering what he told me about being a dragon.
Regina embraces her son, murmurs something in his ear which makes him giggle, then winks at me and leaves the room, carrying the bowl of puke. Goddess.
"Where's she off to?" I ask.
Henry shrugs. "She's a free woman," he says deliberately.
I narrow my eyes. "Did she just tell you to say that?"
He puts on his best puppy face. "Nope."
"Okay, you stick to your story. How're you doing, kid?"
He fiddles with the tube. "New meds," he says.
"Hey, kid, you ever read the Wolverine comics?" I ask, struck by a bright idea.
He shakes his head. I hope his mom won't mind; I pull a picture up on my phone.
"Wolverine's like… A total badass. But he started out just like a human. Then, some people, like weird doctors I guess, pumped him full of stuff, like your meds, and turned him into this crazy strong superhero. It hurt like hell when they did it, but afterwards, he felt awesome. He had some wolfy features, that's why he was called that, but I'm sure we could stick dragon ones in your cocktail instead."
Henry doesn't answer, but he looks at the picture with interest. He flicks through some more, and is fascinated by Wolverine's claws.
"Will my wings be like that?" he asks.
"If you want them to be."
He doesn't answer; at first I think he's not that interested and I'm a bit disappointed, but then I catch another signal just in time and throw another bowl in the way of a fountain of vomit.
"Some warning would be nice," I tell him, surprising myself at how not-grossed-out I am. I just think he's brave. He flops back into the bed. I'm left holding a bowl of puke. Okay, now I am a little grossed out.
"Where do these go?" I ask him.
"Over your head," he says weakly.
"You're a little sh- a little booger, you know that?"
He giggles. "Once, I didn't have a bowl and I got Momma."
"You don't need to sound quite so proud of it, dear," Regina says from behind me. A nurse is with her - another angel, who takes the bowl off my hands.
Henry has the decency to look a little sheepish. "I'm sorry about your jacket. But your face was so funny."
I look at Regina, then back at Henry, who does a fantastic expression of his mother looking aghast. Regina bops his nose, then wipes his mouth with a wet wipe she seems to produce from thin air. We rearrange ourselves so we can all see each other. I realise Regina has changed into a hospital gown.
"Shit, I forgot. I mean, uhm, darn it. Sorry, Henry."
"It's okay. Momma says bad words too, when she thinks I can't hear."
Regina pretends to be horrified that he would say such a thing. I put a gown on over my regular clothes. Henry sighs.
"Am I not good enough for you?" I tease.
"Is that Momma's shirt?" he asks suddenly. I laugh.
"Yep. Bet she doesn't give you her shirts."
Henry makes his best angel face. "She gives me anything I want. Except candy. And a remote control car. And one of those games like the other kids have that you can play on even in bed."
"Books are better anyway," I say, smiling at Regina's parenting.
"That's true," Henry concedes. He coughs, I look around for a bowl but that's not what he needs. Regina presses his call button.
"Sometimes," she informs me, "dragons need a yucky tasting drink, that makes their throats feel a lot better."
"You can taste it if you want, Emma!" Henry croaks gleefully.
It's vile, and it sticks in your throat so no matter how much soda you chug afterwards, you can't quite get rid of the taste.
We stay most of the day. Henry is full of a bizarre kind of energy - physically weak, but requiring constant entertainment. The highlight of the day is the seventh game of snakes and ladders, where I get so bored I start making up rules. At first Regina's pissed, but then she gives up her boringness and joins in, smiting me with a fireball, then helping Henry reach the 99th square (but not the 100th, because he should win on his own).
He gets a bit teary when we say we have to go. After a nod from Regina, I explain about my job, and another nod allows me to agree to his request that I'll come back tomorrow. I have to work most of the day, but there's a bus I can take to visit him right after.
"I have a meeting in the evening tomorrow," Regina admits as we walk out (after multiple hugs and kisses, including of the dragon). "I can drop you home when I go there, but," she does the math in her head, "that would only give you a half hour here. You don't have to come, it's a bit of a waste of time."
"I'll still visit, I said I would," I say with certainty. I've been let down enough times, I know how shitty it is. "I guess… I mean, if you don't mind…" I trail off, not speaking again until she gives me a look that's a combination of flirtatious and commanding.
"Yes, Emma?"
"I could stay with him without you," I say. "For a bit longer, til they go to sleep. Then I'll take the bus again."
"You don't have to do that, Emma. I'm touched that you're so kind to him, but you don't have to do all that."
I smile at her. "I want to," I say. And then she's looking at me in a whole different way.
"Why?" she asks quietly. We're back at the car, standing outside it. We have to get in, I'm going to be late for work, but I stop anyway, and just stare at her. I can't read anything in her face, she's still in Henry mode, but that flicker in her eyes…
"Because he's awesome," I say. "Duh." But I know that's not really what she's asking. She knows how great her kid is.
I feign ignorance, but I know what she means. She wants to know why I'm here, why I care, why I'm steadily becoming part of her family, part of not only her life but her kid's life. She wants to know why I'm doing it, why I'm here, and why she matters so much to me. Because I love the kid, but I'm not a saint. I don't volunteer, I hardly thought about sick kids and definitely never did anything for them before I met Regina. Maybe that makes me selfish, maybe it's just human… But a part of me caring about Henry is that he's Regina's, and she's made that connection, so even though it's more than that, and even though we both know I'd want to see Henry whatever happened with Regina in the future, my giving up my free time to entertain her son is another sign for Regina that I really care about her.
I guess she might have been able to write it off as need, before. I need someone, I need a friend, I need love, I crave it. And she gives that to me, so I need her. But she can't blame me spending time with Henry on need.
"Emma…" she says, trailing off.
"You're worth it. You both are. And after I see the kid, when you're done with the meeting, I want to see you. Want to. Not need."
The word catches her, like I thought it would.
"Emma, I…" she still can't say it. I take her hand.
"Maybe we can finally go to dinner?" I suggest. "And dancing?"
She smiles. She has to. I can see her fighting it, I can see her fighting the idea that anybody would want her, sick kid, scary past and all.
"Okay," she says quietly. "I'll text you when the meeting finishes? I'll pick you up."
"Sounds perfect."
BREAK
M's sitting on my bed when I get back from work. She looks kind of sad. I feel a little guilty, but I'm not quite over being mad at her.
"We miss you. Your friends."
She stresses the word, like the people I've been choosing to spend time with are somehow lesser. But she does have a point. I care about her, and my other friends, too. It's just that I can't be real with them. I have to be tough, I have to be the goofy, funny girl they got to know. I can't just be me.
"I miss you too," I say gently. I don't want to fight any more.
She smiles weakly. "I'm sorry, I… I shouldn't judge you."
I smile back. "No, you shouldn't. But I know you want to look out for me."
"You actually seem… Better. Like someone's helping you chase the clouds away," she says. I consider the expression. I like clouds; I love rain. But I know what she means. Meeting Regina, meeting her properly, was kind of like waking up on a new day, a day with light and sunshine and happiness.
"I feel better. She's great, you know."
"I figured she must be."
"We're going out for midnight ice cream if you want to come…" she says cautiously. "I said I'd try to bring you but you don't have to, I mean, it's okay-"
"I'd love to come, M," I tell her. She launches herself off my bed and I almost topple over with the impact of her power hug.
BREAK
They're all there, Neal, Killian, Ruby, Belle, and M's boyfriend David. We pile into Killian's shitty old car and he drives like a maniac to the nearby late night diner.
"The wandering hero has returned," Neal says as I get into the car.
"Where have you been wandering, Em?" Ruby demands. I'm pressed right up against her. I lean on her shoulder, choosing not to answer. She strokes my hair.
"Weirdo," she says fondly.
"Oh, Belle! I showed someone else Carmilla."
Belle grins. "I bet she loved it."
"How did you know it was a she?"
Belle chuckles. "I'm good at reading people." She looks pointedly at Neal and Killian, who are blissfully oblivious to what she's hinting at.
"Hell, woman, you probably realised before I did," I say with a sigh.
It's strange, being back with my friends, with the people I'm supposed to be with. I try to be myself, I try to be more honest with them, but somehow I fall back into my place and no matter how much I like them, I'm smaller, here. I don't know how to feel about it. I want them in my life but I also… I want to be with Regina, I want to be with Henry, I want to… I want to be somewhere where I don't feel like a charity case.
Later, wriggling around in my own, uncomfortable bed, I practically have to lie on my hands to stop myself from texting Regina. I miss you.
BREAK
On the bus, hair still damp from my hurried post-work shower, I listen to music and pretend I'm in a movie. My mind's a cacophony of mixed feelings. I can't wait to see Regina and Henry, but I can't get rid of this edge, the edge fuelled by M's pitying gaze and Neal and Killian's snide comments (when they finally caught on the night before).
I'm still feeling pretty strange when I go into Henry's ward. He's feeling better today, sitting in his chair and chatting to another kid. Regina's perched on the edge of the bed, looking pensive. I sit beside her and slip my hand into hers, loving the way a smile blossoms across her cheeks before she even looks at me.
When she does look, the smile becomes a little rueful.
"It seems only one of us can be comfortable at once," she says. I sigh, leaning my head on her shoulder.
"I'm going to ask you, later," she warns me.
"I know," I say.
She puts her arm around me and I curl up into her hug, realising how badly I needed it. We don't get long, though - Henry's seen me.
"Emma!"
I don't think he knows how to say hello without exclaiming it.
"Hey, kid," I say sleepily.
"Are you tired? You can use my bed if you like."
I chuckle. "You're sweet, kid."
A nurse comes around with dinner. Henry settles at his table, but he only picks at the food. I steal some of his fries; he hardly even fights me on it. Regina rolls her eyes at us, but I see her sneak one too. We get the kid to finish his chocolate pudding, at least.
"They add vitamins," Regina mutters in my ear. I laugh.
"That seems evil, somehow. Tricking them into being healthier."
"I wish his body was so easily fooled," Regina sighs, but she doesn't sound truly sad.
She has to leave as dinner is cleared away. Henry already knows I'm staying. Maybe my tiredness is contagious, because he's creeping into his bed as soon as she's hugged him goodbye. I move for the chair but he grabs me.
"Cuddle," he says simply. As directed, I climb into his bed beside him. He's on my lap in a flash, tucking himself into my arms, leaning on my chest.
"You have smaller pillows than Momma."
I laugh uncontrollably when I realise what he means.
"Um, sorry?" I say.
He looks up at me impishly. He's holding Jet on his lap, the same way he has me holding him.
"I don't have any pillows at all," he says, sounding almost sad.
I panic for a moment, wondering what to say. The obvious "that's because you're a boy" isn't enough. It never should be, society should be beyond the archaic and binaristic systems it so often seems to rely upon, but I'm not sure the right time to have this conversation is with a sleepy, sickly five year old.
"Lots of people don't," I say in the end.
He accepts this answer, stroking Jet's hair. Absent mindedly, I begin to stroke his. He smiles, leaning into me.
"You're not gonna puke, are you?" I ask him. "Because this is really nice right now and it would be just like you to ruin it."
At the last moment I'm worried he might not understand that I'm joking, but I hear a reassuring giggle. I figure growing up with Regina Mills must make you pretty well attuned to sarcasm.
Suddenly, he slides off the bed and produces a book of fairytales. It's huge. He dumps it on my lap, then climbs back and waits for me to lift the it and my arms so he can be snuggled again.
"Read," he demands. I pause, practising good parenting. He looks at me imploringly.
"Read, please?"
"Much better."
We choose a story (unsurprisingly, it has dragons) and I read. It takes me back to when I was a kid. I used to hate reading. I never complained, even when I had opportunity, so it took years of awful grades in school before anyone even considered the idea I might need glasses. I wear contacts now, mostly. As soon as I think of them, they start to itch.
I have my glasses and the contacts case in my bag. I try to finish the story, but I can feel my eyes watering.
"Henry, I gotta use the restroom real quick," I tell him. He lets me out of the bed.
"Hurry," he tells me. I chuckle, and go to sort myself out. Henry cackles when he sees the glasses. They're the cheapest kind, with thick black frames. I used to hate them, but I'm kind of fine with them now.
"Momma has some too," he tells me when I'm back on his bed. "But she only wears them when she reads. Is that like you?"
I explain about the contact lenses. "But I had them in all day, so reading was making my eyes a bit mad at me. They like glasses better."
"Why do you wear the other things then? They really go in your eyes?"
"Yup. And… It's more convenient, I guess. Like when I'm working, my glasses would steam up, stuff like that. Also, I'm really clumsy, I'm always breaking glasses. Contacts are harder to damage. Unless you drop them down the toilet."
Another cackle. Then an embarrassed pause.
"What?" I ask, leaning round to catch his eye.
"Don't tell Momma, but I dropped Jet in the toilet once," he confesses. "Nurse Ana washed him right away, and I hadn't used the toilet yet," he adds hurriedly. I pull him, and Jet, into a hug.
"Wanna know a secret of mine?" I ask. He nods.
"I've been dropped in a toilet too."
I think he thinks I'm kidding. That's probably a good thing. I wasn't dropped, exactly. I realise I probably shouldn't explain getting flushed to him. I am not ready to be a parent. He's glad he knows my secret, though, and that Jet and I have something in common.
I can see the nurses settling the kids to sleep and politely getting rid of the other guests. Henry notices too.
"Will you come back tomorrow?" he asks. I hug him again.
"I'll have to ask your Mom, but if I can, I will."
"Good," he says. I get out of the bed (he only clings on for a few seconds) and tuck him in.
"You should sing," he murmurs. His eyelids are drooping already.
"Sing what?"
"I don't know," he says tiredly.
I rack my brains for a song. God, I love this kid. That's probably how my subconscious makes its song choice.
After three minutes of softly sung Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive, which I hope he finds motivational, I leave the ward of amused nurses, push my glasses up my nose, and head for the bus stop. I'm still humming that damn song, but I realise, I'm not worried. Not about this. Henry's too much fun to be worried about. I'm beginning to understand what Regina does. She doesn't think of his deadly disease, she doesn't think of all the time she doesn't get to spend with him, she doesn't think of him in negatives at all. She just thinks of him as him, and she's happy for every second she does get.