A/N: More Henry and Emma time. Oh and some Emma and Regina conversation too.
Emma chewed nervously on her thumb as she leaned against the doorframe. Henry was bundled up on the couch, tears streaking his reddened, spotty cheeks. Marlo was clutched in one hand and the other gripped a juice carton. As Emma watched, he glanced towards the front door again, his eyes downturned and despondent when he saw that yet again, it was closed.
It had been one hour since Regina had dropped Henry off in a whirl of instructions, hugs, and expensive perfume. No sooner had the door snapped shut behind the woman Henry began to cry. Emma had done all she could think of to console the sick child but at that moment she was feeling rather helpless. Henry had at last allowed her to settle him on the couch but he continued to sniffle and cry at his mother's absence. As Emma watched him, the straw of the carton reached his lips and he sucked slowly, the pleasant taste of the sweet liquid not even registering as he sat, waiting.
"Hey, kid," Emma said, walking back into Henry's line of sight. "Look what I found."
She placed the plate of cookies down on the table and smiled widely. Henry looked at the food and then up at Emma.
"No, thank you," he whimpered, burrowing further under the blanket and sticking his thumb into his mouth.
Emma hesitated before she sat herself down next to Henry. Leaning forwards, she picked up a cookie and nibbled on the corner of it. She was still getting used to eating regularly and the sweet treat melted delightfully over her tongue.
"Mmmmm, delicious," she said, waving the half eaten cookie in front of Henry. "I think I might get some milk to go with this. Would you like some, Henry?"
"No."
The answer was so quiet Emma almost missed it. So she decided to pretend that she had and less than a minute later reappeared from the kitchen with two plastic tumblers of milk. She placed one on the table besides the plate and dipped her own cookie into the drink. Henry's puffy eyes followed her movements as she ate the rest of the cookie. She said no more, settling back on the couch and turning her attention to the television where an overly bright cartoon was playing. Henry's eyes however, were now trained on the food in front of him.
"Emma?"
"Yes," the blonde said, smiling to herself.
"Can I …," he trailed off.
Emma nodded and reached forward. Picking up the plate of cookies, she balanced it on her knee and then handed over the milk. Henry's little hands wrapped tightly around the drink as he raised it to his lips. With a white moustache, he looked up at Emma with a small smile and then reached for a cookie.
"When's Mama coming back?" Henry asked through a mouthful of crumbs seconds later.
"After work," Emma said.
Henry's forehead creased and his hand, still gripping Marlo, reached up to scratch a pox on his cheek.
"No, sweetie," Emma said, gently stopping the movement. "You can't scratch them."
"But they hurt," Henry protested, his bottom lip wobbling.
"I know," Emma said. "But if you scratch them they'll take even longer to go away and then you'll have to stay here with me instead of going to nursery and your childminder's."
"I want to stay here," Henry said, his fingers returning to the red skin.
"But you don't want to be sick for ages do you?" Emma pointed out, her own hand tugging Henry's from the sores.
"I get cookies when I'm sick," Henry reasoned.
Emma swallowed. Oh dear. "Are you not allowed cookies?"
She really, really didn't want to get on the wrong side of Regina Mills. Emma guessed that the brunette was not a woman to be crossed and doing something incorrectly when it came to her son seemed like a sure fire way to do so.
"Auntie Ruby gives me cookies," Henry said. "But Mama doesn't like it when I eat too many. She says it makes me hyper."
Great, Emma thought. A hyperactive, sick child. As she looked at the boy however, she thought hyper was one of the least accurate ways to describe Henry in that moment. His eyes were still red-rimmed from crying, although the tears had stopped at last. He looked tiny, dwarfed by the large nest of blankets Emma had prepared for him. Just his poxed face stuck out of the top, tired and pale. As Emma looked at him, a trail of slime began to edge down from his nose. He sniffed ineffectually and Emma quickly reached for a tissue.
"Thanks," Henry said as he reached for a second cookie once he was mucus-free.
"No problem, little man," Emma smiled, relieved that Henry seemed to have gotten over Regina leaving and accepted that he was with Emma for the day. "Now, shall we put on a movie for you to watch?"
Henry nodded and Emma rummaged through the bag Regina had dropped off. It was full of Tupperwares containing vegetable and fruit based snacks, story books, and DVDs. Henry selected The Jungle Book and settled back into his cocoon of warmth as Emma set up the movie. Returning to the couch, Emma gently pulled Henry's scratching fingers away from the back of his neck and smiled kindly.
"If you don't stop, I'll have to tape oven gloves to your hands."
Ruby tapped her foot as she waited for the milk to heat up. When it reached the right temperature, she swirled it around the jug before expertly tipping it into the dark coffee. With a flourish of her wrist, a beautiful leaf emerged on the frothy surface. Smiling in satisfaction, she turned around and placed it in front of the customer. The man didn't even blink. He just picked up the plastic lid, snapped it into place, and walked out.
"You're welcome," Ruby muttered under her breath.
Luckily her bad mood didn't last long and she grinned as she saw her best friend side-stepping the rude customer as she entered the diner. Regina brushed the snowflakes from the shoulders of her coat and walked towards the counter.
"How's Henry?" she asked as she slid onto a stool.
"I've not been up since three," Ruby admitted. "We've been crazy busy today thanks to this ridiculous snow. Everyone seems to want coffee and pie and refuses to leave even once they've finished." She glowered at the full booths, the chatter reverberating off the walls and making her head pound. She knew that extra bottle of wine the night before had been a mistake.
"I wish I could have been inside eating all day," Regina grumbled. "This case is making me want to stick pencils in my eyes. Or my client's eyes actually."
Ruby laughed. "Go and give that itching bundle of joy upstairs a hug and you'll feel better."
Regina smiled and nodded. Snagging a muffin from the cake stand, she made her way through the crowded diner and into the back corridor. The calm and darkness were welcoming and she let herself relax for the first time since she had left Henry that morning. She wished she could have taken the day off to be with her sick son but the meeting she had attended was not optional. Cora Mills would not have accepted even her own grandson's illness as an excuse. Regina was just grateful Emma had offered to take care of him.
She had been somewhat taken aback by the offer at first. She had been even more surprised when she realised her own feelings towards Emma's suggestion. It usually took her a long time to trust anyone when it came to her son but somehow, in a mere three weeks, she was already confident that her son would be safe and well cared for with the young blonde. Emma might not have been able to look after herself well, (at least, Regina assumed that was how the blonde ended up on the streets), but she certainly acted impeccably around her son.
Therefore Regina wasn't worried in the slightest when she entered Ruby's unlocked apartment and couldn't see nor hear her son anywhere. After a glance around the living room and a scan of the kitchen, Regina quickly deduced that the only place left for Emma and Henry to be was her friend's bedroom. Finishing her muffin she gently pushed the door open.
The room was dark but a shaft of yellow light from the living area illuminated the scene before her. Emma, dressed in faded jeans and an old sweater, was curled up on top of the comforter, her eyes closed and her breathing soft and deep. Henry's little head poked out from beneath the covers, his brown hair splayed over the pillow and his spotted face relaxed and serene. As Regina stepped further into the room, she realised Emma's hand was resting on her son's chest, his fingers curled tightly around her own.
Regina's cell rang, the trilling sound high and startling in the quiet apartment.
"Shit," she said, stumbling back out of the room and pulling the door shut. "What?" she snapped into the receiver.
"Oh, I'm sorry to disturb you," came Mary Margaret's anxious voice. "It's just … Mrs Mills asked me to remind you that the documents for the Turner case are due tomorrow morning at nine."
"I know," Regina replied tersely. "And you can tell my mother, whom I know is standing next to you right now, that I'm perfectly capable of remembering my duties and I would appreciate it if she would let me attend to her grandson now."
She ended the call and threw the cell back into her bag with a sigh. The soft click of a door behind her told her she was no longer alone.
"Hi," Emma said sleepily. "Long day?"
"It's not over yet," Regina said, her hand pushing back some loose hairs from her tired face as she turned to smile at the blonde.
"Sorry," Emma offered. "Would you like a cup of tea or coffee before you go?"
"Is Henry still asleep?"
"Yes," Emma nodded as she walked to the kitchen and filled up the kettle. "He could barely keep his eyes open after dinner but he wouldn't let me leave him. I was just planning to lie next to him until he fell asleep but I guess I was more tired than I realised."
"I'm sorry I'm so late," Regina said, glancing at the clock and noting that it was almost eight in the evening. "Work was … well, yeah. I'm sorry."
"No problem," Emma said. "We had a fun day. At least, I had a fun day. Henry was just scratching the entire time. I tried to stop him as much as I could but -,"
"It's fine," Regina assured. "And thank you so much again for doing this, Emma. And for feeding him. You didn't have to."
"I couldn't let him starve now, could I?" Emma smiled, pouring boiling water over two tea bags. "And anyway, I just went down and grabbed a couple of slices of Granny's lasagne. It was no big deal."
"And he ate it?" Regina asked, eyebrows raised.
"Every last bit, why?"
"He doesn't usually eat any lasagne but mine," Regina said. "It's kind of my specialty dish."
"Oh really?" Emma said, handing over a cup of tea and leading the way out to the living room which was still strewn with the toys, books and games she and Henry had entertained themselves with all day. "I hope I get to try it some day."
Emma bit her lip. She had not meant to say that and was immensely pleased her back was to Regina so the brunette wouldn't see the pink rising up her cheeks. She placed her tea on the coffee table and began to gather up the mess, trying to calm the colour in her face.
"Yes, perhaps you could come over for dinner some time as a thank you for looking after Henry."
"Really?" Emma asked, forgetting her blush and turning to stare at the brunette.
"Of course," Regina smiled. "I'm very grateful to you, Emma. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't offered to look after Henry today."
"It was nothing," Emma shrugged, stacking up the books and placing them back in Regina's bag . "You don't have to cook for me to say thanks. I was happy to do it."
"Maybe I want to cook for you," Regina said.
Seemingly both women's internal filters were on holiday for the time being as Regina mentally kicked herself for what she had said. The blonde's cheeks grew redder still and Regina noted a familiar darkening of her bright green irises. Interesting, she mused, still berating herself for being so forward.
"You … you want to cook for me?" Emma frowned. She couldn't remember last time anyone had cooked for her. Lily wasn't the domestic type.
"To say thank you, yes," Regina nodded.
"Oh."
There was a pause and Emma sipped her tea, not sure quite what to say next. She didn't have to come up with anything however because seconds later, Regina spoke.
"It's not because I feel sorry for you," Regina blurted out.
The mug lowered slowly onto the table and Emma turned to look at the brunette. Regina swallowed thickly when she felt the steely gaze on her. It both amazed and terrified her how quickly the young woman's expression could change.
"And why would you feel sorry for me?" Emma asked, her tone icy and her eyes hard.
Shit, Regina thought. Way to go and insult the woman who's just been caring for your son all day.
"I didn't mean it like that," Regina said quickly. "I don't feel sorry for you."
"Don't you?" Emma asked, leaning back against the couch and looking appraisingly at Regina. She could feel the anger rising within her but tried hard to keep it at bay. "I can see why you would. I'm just the beggar on the street who happened to get a crummy job in your friend's diner, wiping down tables and cleaning dirty plates. I sleep on my employer's couch and everything I own in the world is in that cardboard box over there."
Regina glanced over to where Emma was pointing. A small box was stacked against the wall, the edge of a old blanket flapped over the side and a plastic bag resting on the top. Shiny black shoes sat beside it. Regina thought they looked new, but cheap.
"I have no prospects," Emma continued, and Regina turned back to face her, "no future, and the best I can hope for is to save enough of my earnings to afford the rent of some rat-infested apartment miles out of town where I'll spend most of my time because I have no friends and nothing to do with my life. I feel sorry for me so I hate to think what some high flying corporate lawyer sees. I mean, why did you even let me look after Henry? Surely I'm not the sort of person you want him around?"
Regina blinked, stunned. She didn't know what to say to the blunt honesty she had just been faced with. She didn't know how to respond to the young woman now sitting rigidly on the end of the couch. Emma was hurting, of that she was sure, but the cold exterior gave the impression that she couldn't care less what Regina herself thought. That said, if Emma didn't care, why did she become so defensive whenever Regina said something which offended her? An all too common occurrence, it seemed.
"You're great with Henry," Regina began, her tone steady and measured. "He doesn't warm to many people as quickly as he has with you. The two of you clicked and I'm really glad you did. I'm also grateful that you offered to look after him today. He needed to be with someone he liked and trusted and that also needed to be someone I trusted." Emma's eyebrows rose. Regina smiled softly and continued. "I don't know you, Emma. I've only had a handful of conversations with you, in fact. But you're a good person. I trust you with Henry. And yes you did end up on the streets and clearly something in your past went very wrong for that to happen. But you're trying to get your life back together now, right? You want better for yourself and you're working hard to get there. Why wouldn't I want my son to spend time with a strong, determined young woman?"
"You really think that?" Emma asked. "You really think I'm a good influence on him?"
"I think Henry could learn a lot from someone like you," Regina nodded. "Certainly he can learn things which I would never be able to teach him. I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I've never had to fight for anything. It was all just handed to me on a plate. My education, my possessions, my college place. Even my job. You've worked for everything you've ever had and that's admirable."
Emma scoffed. "The clothes on my back, a couple of blankets, a coat, and now my diner uniform? I don't think there's anything admirable about that measly collection. They've kept me alive, that's all."
"And I'm glad they did," Regina said at once. "Emma, you seem like an incredible person and I know you're going to turn your life around. Even since that day we met and Henry gave you some money, you've changed almost beyond recognition."
"Well, a hot shower will do that for you," Emma replied dryly.
"I'm not talking about that," Regina said. "Although I will admit you do look better." Emma blushed again. "No, I mean the way you act. You're more confident, you're happier, and you seem to have … hope?"
"I have a job and a roof over my head," Emma said simply. "That's a damn sight more than I've had for the past seven months."
"Seven months? Is that how long you were …."
"Yeah," Emma nodded, answering the unasked question.
"What happened?"
But before Emma could answer, or refuse to answer (she hadn't decided which), a sleepy voice from the doorway disturbed them.
"Mama?"
Henry rubbed his eyes and yawned, shuffling further into the room where he climbed up into Regina's lap.
"Hey there, my little prince," Regina cooed. "How are you feeling?"
"Sleepy," came the muffled response, his face buried against his mother's coat. "Can we go home?"
"Yes," Regina said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Of course we can."
"Am I coming back here tomorrow?"
Regina raised a questioning eye at Emma, who nodded at once.
"Are you sure? What about your work shifts?"
"Ruby's off in the morning and I'm free in the afternoon," Emma assured. "Don't worry, we've got this covered. You can leave all his toys and books here too."
"Thank you," Regina said, getting ready to stand up with Henry in her arms.
Emma stood too, helping the older woman balance and readjusting her handbag which had slid down her arm. When the little family was ready, Emma crossed the apartment and held the door open.
"Thanks again, Emma. And I'm sorry. If I said anything which offended you, I really didn't mean it. I think you're …," Regina trailed off, a shy smile on her lips.
"See you tomorrow, Regina," Emma said, watching as the woman walked carefully down the stairs and back towards the diner.
It was nearing midnight when Henry finally fell asleep. He had cried on and off in the car on the way home. Incoherent sobs about the itching and feeling hot, and wanting more cookies (Regina made a mental note to ask the blonde about that), and missing Emma. He eventually passed out in Regina's bed after failing to settle in his own. Smiling at the fact that he had at last fallen asleep, Regina took off her glasses and laid them beside the papers, on which she had been trying to focus. But her mind was not allowing much space for work.
Emma's face swam before her eyes, the thin, pale oval still haunting her hours later. The young woman had tried to hide the pain she had felt at Regina's words but the brunette knew that she had, yet again, said something to upset her. She hadn't meant to, of course, but tact had never been Regina's strong suit. Insulting Emma was the last thing Regina wanted to do. In fact, Regina had been rather surprised when her brain had finally registered what she did want. It had been the moment she saw a smiling Henry sitting on Emma's back the previous weekend when the realisation of what Regina felt hit her like a thunderbolt. That realisation was followed by a wave of guilt.
She turned to look at the photograph propped on her bedside table and reached out to pick it up. Her finger traced the figures through the glass, a soft smile on her lips. It was a sad smile, perhaps, but the tears no longer fell when she looked down at the faces trapped in the click of a camera.
Henry whimpered beside her and she glanced over to see him settling once more, his thumb in his mouth and Marlo tucked beneath his chin. She smiled and turned back to the picture. Henry was just six weeks old in the image, his head already covered in a shock of dark hair. His eyes, slowly turning to the green shade they now were, stared widely up into the smiling face of his mother. His other mother.
Half of Dani's face was hidden by her light brown hair which fell forwards but Regina could still tell she was smiling widely, her eyes twinkling with love and happiness as she gazed down into their son's face. It was the last photograph Regina had of the two of them together. If Regina had known, she would have never stopped capturing their love and the promises for their future together. But she hadn't. And fate had other plans for the new family.
She put the photo back on her table and gathered up her papers. Slipping soundlessly from the bed, she padded barefoot through to her ensuite and got ready to sleep. When she returned, Henry's body had gravitated to the warm spot her own had left on the mattress. Smiling, she climbed into the other side of the bed and reached over to turn off the light. The darkness swallowed the room, eclipsing the furniture, Henry, Regina and the photo of Dani. But in Regina's mind, one face still shone brightly.
A/N: I would love some thoughts on where I'm taking this story … but I am aware the information in this chapter continued to be rather vague. I hope you're interested to see where it goes though!