I do not own the rights to the TV show, the characters, or the music. This is just me writing as a fan.
No copyright infringement intended. Pls don't sue me. :)
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"Chicken Soup and Butterflies"
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Emma Swan did not get sick. At least, that's what she kept telling herself as she shivered under three blankets in her apartment, her nose red and running, and her head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. She'd already called in sick to work, something she never did, but the thought of getting up made her want to cry.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Regina 9:15 AM: Henry mentioned you weren't feeling well. Should I be concerned about the town falling apart in your absence?
Despite feeling awful, Emma smiled at her phone.
Emma 9:16 AM: towns fine. im fine. just a cold.
Regina 9:16 AM: Your atrocious typing suggests otherwise. Have you taken any medicine?
Emma 9:17 AM: dont need medicine. just sleep.
There was a longer pause, and Emma could almost picture Regina's exasperated expression.
Regina 9:20 AM: I'm coming over.
Emma's eyes widened in panic.
Emma 9:20 AM: no! im gross and sick
Emma 9:21 AM: regina seriously dont
But there was no response. Emma groaned, pulling the blankets over her head. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep, Regina would go away. She didn't want the sophisticated mayor to see her like this â sweaty, pale, with unwashed hair and wearing her rattiest sweatpants and an old oversized t-shirt.
Forty-five minutes later, the sound of heels clicking up the stairs made Emma's heart race. There was a knock at her door, followed by Regina's voice: "Emma? I know you're in there."
"Go away," Emma called out, her voice raspy. "I'm contagious!"
"Don't be ridiculous," Regina replied, and Emma heard the distinct sound of a key turning in the lock. Right. Regina had her spare key for emergencies.
The door opened, and the click of heels approached her bedroom. Emma pulled the blankets tighter around herself, trying to become invisible.
"Oh, Emma," Regina's voice was unexpectedly soft as she entered the room. Emma peeked out from her blanket cocoon to see Regina setting down several bags, her expression gentle in a way that made Emma's stomach flip despite her illness.
"You didn't have to come," Emma mumbled, then sniffled pathetically.
"Clearly, I did." Regina moved to her bedside, and before Emma could protest, a cool hand pressed against her forehead. The touch was so tender it made Emma's breath catch. "You're burning up."
"'m fine," Emma insisted weakly, even as she unconsciously leaned into Regina's touch.
Regina's thumb brushed across her forehead in a soothing motion before pulling away. "Yes, you look the picture of health," she said dryly, but her eyes were warm with concern. "When was the last time you ate?"
Emma tried to remember. "Yesterday? Maybe?"
Regina made a disapproving sound that somehow managed to be both scolding and affectionate. "Well, that ends now. I brought soup."
"You made soup?" Emma asked, finally noticing that one of the bags Regina had brought smelled amazing.
"Of course I made soup. Did you expect me to bring you canned broth like some barbarian?" Regina was already moving around Emma's room with familiar ease, picking up scattered tissues and straightening things as she went. "I also brought proper medicine, tea, and some of Henry's old pajamas that will be more comfortable than... whatever that is you're wearing."
Emma should have felt embarrassed, but something about Regina's casual care made her feel warm in a way that had nothing to do with her fever. "You didn't have to do all this."
Regina paused in her tidying to give Emma a look that was equal parts exasperation and fondness. "Emma, do be quiet and let someone take care of you for once."
The words made Emma's chest tight with emotion. She watched as Regina efficiently organized the room, setting up a small table next to the bed with water, medicine, and tissues within easy reach.
"Now," Regina said, turning back to her with a determined expression, "you're going to change into clean clothes, eat some soup, take your medicine, and rest. No arguments."
"Yes, ma'am," Emma mumbled, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Regina helped her sit up, and Emma tried to ignore how her skin tingled where Regina's hands steadied her. The pajamas Regina had brought were soft and clean, smelling faintly of Regina's laundry detergent.
"I'll step out while you change," Regina said, heading for the door. "Try not to fall over."
Once changed, Emma had to admit she felt better. She called out weakly that it was safe to return, and Regina came back in carrying a tray with steaming soup and tea.
"This is my mother's recipe," Regina said as she settled the tray over Emma's lap.
"Well, my first mother's. It was the only thing she knew how to cook, but she made it whenever I was ill."
Emma's heart squeezed at the casual sharing of such a personal memory. She took a spoonful of the soup and couldn't help the small moan that escaped. "This is amazing."
Regina's pleased smile made Emma's stomach do that flip thing again. "Of course it is. Now eat."
As Emma ate, Regina moved around the room, somehow managing to tidy everything without making Emma feel self-conscious about the mess. She opened a window slightly to let in fresh air, adjusted Emma's pillows, and generally fussed in a way that should have been annoying but instead made Emma feel impossibly cared for.
"You really don't have to stay," Emma said after finishing the soup, even though everything in her hoped Regina would.
Regina gave her a look that suggested she was being particularly dense. "Of course I'm staying. Someone needs to make sure you actually rest instead of trying to work from bed or whatever foolish thing you were planning."
"I wasn'tâ" Emma started to protest, then caught Regina's knowing look and stopped. "Okay, maybe I was going to check some emails."
"Exactly." Regina took the tray away and returned with medicine and more tea.
"Now take these, and then you're going to sleep."
Emma obediently took the medicine, then watched as Regina settled into the chair next to her bed with a book she'd apparently brought along. "You're really staying?"
Regina's expression softened. "Yes, Emma. I'm really staying."
"But don't you have mayor stuff to do?"
"I took the day off," Regina said simply, as if taking a sick day to care for Emma was the most natural thing in the world. "Now sleep."
Emma snuggled down into her blankets, feeling warm and cared for in a way she couldn't remember experiencing before. She watched through heavy eyelids as Regina opened her book, the afternoon light catching in her hair and making her look almost ethereal.
"Regina?" Emma murmured, already half asleep.
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
Regina looked up from her book, and the softness in her eyes made Emma's heart stutter. "You're welcome, dear. Now sleep."
As Emma drifted off, she felt gentle fingers brush her hair back from her forehead, and she could have sworn she felt the ghost of lips pressing against her temple. But that
might have been the fever talking.
She fell asleep to the sound of Regina quietly turning pages, feeling safer and more loved than she could remember feeling in her entire life. And if her dreams were filled with soft brown eyes and gentle touches? Well, she could blame that on the medicine.
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