Chapter 3 – Bargaining
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, during which Emma tried everything to free Regina from her illusory world. The anger she had initially felt had long since faded and given way to something else: a thirst for action. She had now realized that she would not be able to heal Regina and that no one was to blame except the Black Fairy. However, this did not stop her from looking for ways to keep Regina's mental state as intact as possible.
"Ma, where are my sneakers?" Henry called down the stairs.
Emma looked up from her laptop and the brochures scattered around the living room and brushed her hair back from her forehead. She had completely lost track of time while she was engrossed in her research. "What?"
"My sneakers. Where are they?" her son repeated his question.
"Henry, I have no idea and no time. Why don't you look in your sports bag?" she replied and sighed. All that work on the screen had given her a headache. She had been sitting here since 4 a.m., as Regina had finally fallen asleep at that time. She had spent the rest of the night restlessly wandering around and Emma hadn't been able to sleep either, for fear that she would hurt herself or even leave the house disoriented.
Finally, Henry appeared in the doorway and leaned against the frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "They're not there. You look tired, Ma. How long have you been awake?"
"The question is whether I've slept at all," Emma replied, closing her eyes with a groan. "Listen, if your sneakers aren't in your bag or by the door, you can only look in the cellar again. If they're not there either, you must have left them in the gym during your last PE lesson."
Henry took a seat next to his mother on the couch and looked at her with a furrowed brow. "Why don't you get some sleep when Mom's in bed?"
"Because I wanted to read this and I can't get to it when she's awake," Emma explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Interested, Henry turned the laptop towards him and read the title of the article. Dementia at a young age - How you can support your loved ones. "Is there anything interesting in there?" he wanted to know and pushed the device back in Emma's direction.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing that I wouldn't have found out elsewhere," she replied. "But maybe we'll find out more today and can adapt to it," Emma suggested.
"What time is your appointment with Whale?"
"Ten o'clock. Luckily Regina can sleep a little until then, otherwise there couldn't be done much with her anyway," Emma pointed out.
Henry hesitated and ran his hand over the back of his head. "What tests does he want to run?"
"Another up-to-date MRI, an EEG and various dementia tests. According to the internet, they're not 100% conclusive, but combined with the other tests, the result should be pretty clear," Emma explained.
Henry was silent again for a moment. His voice was quiet when he finally asked: "But what do you expect to gain from it? Aren't you just torturing her unnecessarily?"
Emma tilted her head in disbelief and flipped down the screen of her laptop. "Are you serious? Of course I don't intend to torture her. But it's important to know what stage of the disease she's in so that we can deal with her accordingly."
"But we already know how best to deal with her so that she's reasonably well. Why more tests?"
"Henry, you don't understand," Emma began, but was interrupted by her son.
"No, Ma. I don't think you understand," he said seriously, looking at her with sad eyes. "She's still her, even though she's changed. Can't you just accept that and move on?"
Emma's heart sank. She had thought Henry had her back and that he would support her no matter what. But she was obviously wrong. "You'll be late for school," she said dry-mouthed and turned back to her notes.
"Ma..."
"Go now, Henry." Emma didn't look up again until the front door had slammed shut behind Henry with a resounding bang and took a deep breath. The last thing she wanted to do was offend her son, but he clearly didn't know what he was talking about. How was he supposed to understand the full extent of the situation at the age of 14, when she didn't even know if she understood it herself?
"Emma?" Regina's voice asked just before the brunette entered the living room. Her hair was still tousled from sleeping, her slim body dressed in white and blue striped pajamas and her shoes were obviously still next to her bed, as she was walking barefoot across the wooden floor. A smile appeared on her face when she spotted the blonde and took a seat next to her on the sofa.
"Good morning, love," Emma said, returning her smile wanly. She leaned towards her hesitantly and was glad that Regina did the same and their lips met shortly afterwards. It was obviously one of her better mornings and she knew who she was. "Were you able to get some more sleep?"
Regina nodded and looked at all the notes and brochures spread out around Emma. "I'm sorry," she said and closed her eyes.
Emma looked at her questioningly and gently interlaced her fingers with hers. "Sorry for what?"
"I deprived you of your sleep."
"Regina, it's... it's all right," Emma assured her.
"It's anything but all right," Regina pointed out, sighing deeply. "Where is Henry? What day is it today?"
"It's Thursday," Emma explained calmly.
"Then he's at school." It wasn't a question.
Emma nodded curtly, trying not to show the excitement she felt whenever Regina linked different things together. She knew it made her wife feel like a little kid or a project. "I'm glad you were able to sleep in. We have this appointment with Whale at ten."
"I remember," Regina nodded, but her tone showed little enthusiasm.
The blonde bit her lip and lowered her gaze to their fingers, which were still intertwined. "I know you're not thrilled. But I want us to gather as much information as possible so that we can use it to help you afterwards."
"I'm going to take a shower," Regina replied curtly and withdrew her hand.
Emma's shoulders slumped as she looked after her and her steps disappeared up the stairs. She was surprised that Regina seemed to have remembered the conversation about having her examined at the hospital. Apparently, the unpleasant idea of being shoved into narrow tubes again had burned itself into her brain more than any pleasant memory ever could. As they still had to eat and Emma knew from experience that Regina took much longer to do everything than before the incident at the wedding, she cleared up the mess on the coffee table and then set the breakfast table. However, as half past nine approached, Emma began to get restless, and not because the deadline was getting closer. Even by Regina's standards, the visit to the bathroom was now taking an incredibly long time. Although she had sworn not to patronize her too much, Emma couldn't take it any longer and went upstairs, where she knocked gently on the bathroom door. She received no answer and was already expecting the worst when she pushed the handle down and the door open. The fact that Regina was sitting on the stool in front of the vanity cabinet, showered and fully dressed, did not match her expectations. "Regina? We should have some breakfast before we go."
Regina sat with her back to Emma and didn't answer. Only a soft sniffle escaped her and made her shoulders shake.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Emma's tone immediately changed to concern and she stepped next to her wife, crouching down so that she was level with her and could look her in the face.
Regina wiped her reddened eyes with the back of her hand, brushing the tears from her cheeks, which were already swollen from crying.
Emma pressed a kiss to her hair and then gently ran her knuckles along Regina's jawline. "Will you tell me what happened?" she whispered gently.
"I wanted to," Regina began, before more sobs interrupted her. "I wanted to put my make-up on," she finally managed to get out. "I wanted to feel normal."
Emma nodded sympathetically, scrutinizing her tear-stained face, which lacked any trace of makeup, and waited for her to continue.
"I don't know what to do anymore," Regina finally pressed out before the next sobs shook her entire body.
"I see," Emma nodded and hoped that she didn't realize how affected she was by how much she was suffering. "Regina, you're doing really well today and I don't want you to ruin it now because you can't apply your own eyeliner. It's just a trifle."
"Maybe the eyeliner is a trifle," Regina replied, shaking her head and looking at Emma with dark, serious eyes, "but it represents everything I can't do anymore. My brain is full of holes, Emma. Sometimes I can plug the holes, but new ones are always appearing and the patches on the old ones don't hold very well either."
The fact that she was speaking in metaphors made it clear to Emma once again that her wife was as close to her old self as she could be that day. Only then did she realize how much she missed the intelligent, eloquent mayor.
"The way you look at me, you're used to it by now. And you're obviously serious that I'm well today. Please don't tell me how I feel on other days, I don't want to know. The hazy memories I have of last night are enough for me," Regina continued, pulling open the drawer with the bandages.
Emma immediately realized that she had been looking for something completely different when she noticed Regina's confused look and pulled open the drawer next to it, which contained the tissues.
A bitter laugh escaped Regina's throat as, shaking her head, she reached for one, dabbed her face dry and then blew her nose.
"I honestly don't know what you want to hear from me now," Emma admitted quietly after a while.
"How can you be so calm?" Regina roared. Her tears had dried up and angry despair took hold of her. "How can you even look at me and live with me under the same roof? I'm just an empty shell. In the truest sense of the word. There's a vacuum in there!" She tapped her temple, her hands trembling with agitation.
With gentle force, Emma grabbed Regina's hands and held them tightly until the brunette looked her in the eye. "I'm not calm. I couldn't believe what happened to you, I pushed it away from me and blamed people who had absolutely nothing to do with it. But that's over now. This appointment today should enable us to come to terms with it. That goes for you as well as for me and Henry. It hurts me what happened to you, but that doesn't change the fact that I love you. And if it's necessary for me to do your makeup, I will, every day if I have to, because I know you'd do the same for me if I were in your place."
New tears welled up in Regina's eyes, but this time they were joined by a wry smile. "I don't deserve you with anything in the world."
Emma just shrugged her shoulders and grabbed the make-up utensils after dabbing Regina's eyes dry with a fresh tissue. "You can see it any way you like. I can be quite annoying and you won't be able to get rid of me," she explained before she applied eyeshadow and then eyeliner and mascara with her eyes narrowed in concentration and her tongue in the corner of her mouth, making Regina's dark eyes stand out even more. "There, that's it. Do you want something to eat before we go? We're running late anyway, so a few minutes more or less won't matter."
"Where are we going?" Regina wanted to know and looked at Emma calmly.
Emma swallowed and forced herself to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. "Nowhere of importance. Are you hungry?" It was always hard to see Regina disoriented and forgetful, but Emma always found it worst when she seemed to have her wife back for a while and then she suddenly disappeared quietly to make way for her new version, who knew somewhere deep down that she liked Emma, but would never fully understand how deep their connection was.
"Not really," Regina admitted and looked around the bathroom. "Are we going to sleep?"
"It's in the morning. So no, we're not going to sleep now," Emma replied and stood up. Her feet had gone numb from the long squatting position and it took quite a while before the blood flow to the tissue was restored properly and the unpleasant tingling stopped. Finally, she held out a hand to Regina. "Come on, let's go see Dr. Whale."
Regina grabbed her fingers and, a dreamy smirk on her lips, willingly went with her.
"Has she been like this since she woke up?" Whale wanted to know as he and Emma sat in swivel chairs in the control room, waiting for the MRI to output usable scans.
"So normal, you mean?" Emma asked, shrugging her shoulders. "She was almost her old self when she got up. Showered and dressed on her own and tried to do her make-up. She reached her limits there and I had to help her. When we were about to leave, she slipped away from me for a while, but on the drive here the episode was over and she was better again." For once, she wasn't just happy because she had her wife back. Emma was extremely relieved that Regina was sensible enough to endure the examinations and that it was unnecessary to sedate her this time.
"Interesting," the doctor mumbled, scratching his head.
"What do you mean? The fluctuations? Does that mean she might get better after all?" Emma wanted to know hopefully. To her disappointment, however, Whale shook his head.
"It just means that the stage of her neurological degeneration hasn't reached the point where she's barely capable of any mental activity. But we already knew that," he said, pushing the sheet of paper on which Regina had drawn a perfect clock half an hour earlier over to Emma. "Can you see that? How would you have drawn the clock, Emma?" he wanted to know.
Emma didn't know what he was getting at. "Is that a trick question? The same way, I'd say."
Whale nodded and slid the sheet back into Regina's patient file. "And that's exactly the point. We can repeat these tests as often as we like. We'll never get the same result. Regina's condition is exceptionally good today. If we let her paint the same clock again tomorrow or even in a few hours, it would probably look crooked and bent or she wouldn't know how to do it at all."
"And what am I supposed to do with this statement?" asked Emma, who was slowly losing patience. She wanted answers, not more questions.
"I want to make it clear to you that this is a waste of time. We know what's wrong with Regina. We know that there is no cure for her condition. Yet here you are, pointlessly wasting public funds on tests instead of enjoying this day with your wife. How many good days like this does she have? Is it really worth it?"
Emma didn't know what to say. She was reluctant to agree with him, but perhaps she really had gotten herself into something. Even if she didn't particularly like Whale, he knew what he was talking about. Maybe she was going about it all wrong. Conventional medicine was getting nowhere in Regina's case, but she hadn't tried magic yet. Magic had caused Regina's dementia. Didn't magic have to reverse it too? Wasn't that exactly how it worked? As if she could give her an answer, Emma looked at her wife, whose face was captured by the camera inside the MRI machine. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was tense, making the scar in her upper lip appear more prominent. "I don't want to leave any stone unturned, and that includes getting an accurate diagnosis," she finally said, looking again at the doctor next to her. "You may not understand, but I'm clutching at straws, even if it means wasting a day."
Whale looked at her sideways for a long moment before nodding slowly. "I get it. I think anyone who's known Regina before does. However, it's like I told you, Emma: we're only doing examinations, not therapies. This day is just wasted time. If there was anything we could do, I would tell you."
Surprised at how honestly and sympathetically he spoke to her, Emma returned his gaze. "You're the doctor, you have to be objective and that's certainly a good thing. But as the wife, I can't allow myself that," she finally said quietly, turning her wedding ring on her finger, deep in thought.
Whale sighed. "All right, we can try to put her on medication. I don't know what it will do in her case, but at least there are a few options."
Surprised, Emma looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said it would be pointless because her condition isn't chronic."
"Yes, that's what I said. But we're in uncharted territory here and there's no harm in trying. I suggest giving her memantine, a commonly used medication for dementia. It can theoretically slow down the progression, which is not necessary here, but it can also preserve existing abilities for longer. Perhaps it will reduce the phases in which she is not herself a little," he explained thoughtfully.
Emma tried to hold back her smile. The situation was obviously closer to him than he wanted to admit, but she didn't say anything and was just silently grateful to him. "That sounds like a plan."
"How does she sleep?" Whale then wanted to know.
Emma immediately thought of how Regina was always wandering around at night and they could barely sleep, but she found it hard to admit.
"There's no wrong answer here, Emma," the doctor said when the blonde remained silent.
Sighing, Emma turned her wedding ring again so that she didn't have to look at him. "Hardly at all," she finally whispered. "She's wandering around, empties the cupboards, always looking for things she's supposedly misplaced."
Whale nodded. "Then we'll add lorazepam. That's a tranquilizer."
Emma felt queasy, but she nodded.
"You can get the meds straight from the hospital pharmacy. One of each preparation every evening," he said, writing the medication on his prescription pad and then handing her the top sheet.
"Thank you," Emma squeezed out with a lump in her throat as she held the sheet of paper so tightly that it creased.
"I want to go home," Regina said an hour later in an almost tearful tone as Emma drove out of the hospital parking lot.
"We're going home soon, but I really want to visit the convent first. It might be possible that the Blue Fairy can help you. After all, it was another fairy's curse that did this to you and her light magic could help," she argued and put the blinker on. Before she could pull onto the main road, however, she felt Regina's fingers tighten around her forearm. A glance in the rear-view mirror told her that they were the only car in the driveway and that they would not be obstructing traffic if they stood here a moment longer. So she looked questioningly at her wife.
"I want to go home," Regina repeated. "Please."
Emma could see the exhaustion on her face. There were dark circles under Regina's eyes, in which tears glistened, her cheeks looked sunken and her shoulders slumped.
Emma hesitated; she wanted to fulfill her wish, but she also felt the need to seek her help. "It's only a short visit," she tried.
"You said that this morning and now almost four hours have passed," Regina pointed out. "Go to the fairy for all I care and do whatever you think is right. But first you either take me home or give me back my magic so I can poof," she demanded tensely, holding out her wrist with the cuff.
"And what if she can help you, or she needs you on site to try?" the blonde asked.
A mirthless smile appeared on Regina's lips. "Let's not kid ourselves. It's not going to happen," she said quietly before lowering her eyes.
"I can't leave you home alone, Regina," Emma whispered barely audibly, staring at the steering wheel, which she was still clutching so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. She didn't want to say it out loud and hurt her, but unfortunately it was the bitter truth. As well as she was feeling at the moment, her condition could be all the worse the next.
Regina swallowed frantically and shook her head slowly. "I guess not. But you can stay with me and just let it go."
Taking a deep breath, Emma turned in the other direction and drove back to Mifflin Street instead of heading for the convent.
"Thank you," Regina replied honestly as the large, white mansion loomed to her right.
Emma shrugged her shoulders and switched off the engine. "It's probably better if you rest for now. We can go again tomorrow, or the day after. There's no rush." With that, she got out and slammed the door of her trusty Beetle shut behind her.
Regina got out shortly afterwards too, her arms wrapped around herself and her head bowed. She walked to the front door without looking at Emma and then, after the blonde had unlocked the door, disappeared up the stairs and into the bedroom without another word.
Sighing, Emma brushed her hair back from her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. She only wanted to help her, couldn't her wife understand that? What was so wrong with trying everything to improve her condition? Emma was still standing in the foyer when Henry returned from school.
"Hi, what are you doing there?" he asked in amazement, looking at his mother's street clothes.
"Lost in deep thought," Emma replied in a monotone voice and turned to him, trying to smile wryly. "Hi, kid. How was school?"
"Same as always," Henry said, shrugging his shoulders and taking off his shoes. "How's Mom?"
"She's fine," Emma replied. "Really," she affirmed when she saw the skeptical look on his face. "She hasn't been this well for a long time. I'm waiting for the next low blow."
"Has Dr. Whale been able to tell you anything new?" he asked with little enthusiasm.
Emma shook her head and ran her hand over the back of her neck. "The MRI is unchanged and her cognitive abilities fluctuate too much to say anything definite."
"I told you," Henry said.
"I know," Emma sighed. "And I'm so sorry for the way I sent you away this morning. I just... I have to find a way to help her. She's my wife, Henry. Giving up is not an option."
"Who's talking about giving up?" the teenager asked, sitting down on the last step of the stairs.
"If I start to take her condition for granted, then that's tantamount to giving up, I think," Emma pointed out and sat down next to her son.
"I don't see it that way," Henry replied, knotting his hands together in his lap. "I already told you this morning that she's still Mom. She's the same person she was before. Sometimes she acts a little different, but she's in there. You have the option of coming to terms with this new Mom. Or you can keep trying so hard to turn her back into the person she no longer is. However, I don't think that will do you or her any good. It's just exhausting and pointless."
"I don't know if I can do it that easily," Emma admitted, taking a deep breath. "She's suffering, Henry. It's not always equally bad, but you should have seen her this morning. She has moments when she realizes she's forgetting everything and it's getting her down."
"But maybe she's only suffering so much because she wants to please you?" Henry suggested cautiously. "I think she often understands and realizes more than she seems to. So it's only logical that she wants to be the tough mayor again, because you've made it abundantly clear that you expect her to be exactly that. But she can't be that woman anymore and of course that stresses her out."
Emma gritted her teeth and stared so hard at the umbrella stand in the corner that it was a miracle it didn't burst into flames. "Are you blaming me for her being unwell?" she asked tightly.
"No. And this isn't about guilt," Henry said, hesitantly putting his arm around Emma's shoulders. "This is just about making her life easier. And not just hers. Ours."
"But how are we supposed to do that?" Emma wanted to know and leaned her head against Henry's shoulder.
"Is it really that important to you that Mom is an intellectual all-rounder? Isn't it enough that we're all together and love each other?"
"It's not that simple, Henry. I don't care whether my wife is a Nobel Prize winner or a simple sales clerk," Emma replied. "The only thing that matters is that she feels good and she doesn't. She's no longer herself and I think that's terrible. Don't you? Imagine if you were suddenly a different person. Suddenly you would no longer have the ability to write and reading would be difficult for you. Wouldn't that also make you feel vulnerable and insecure?"
Henry tilted his head thoughtfully for a few moments. "It probably would at first," he admitted. "But then I'd probably look for another hobby. My skills don't define me as a person."
"And if you can't do that? What if you try something new and each time you find that you don't know what to do next?" asked Emma.
"I know what you're getting at," Henry said seriously. "You want absolution from me. You want me to approve of you treating Mom as if she were a test object. But I won't. You can try it your way, but I'll try it my way. Is that okay with you?"
"Of course it is. As long as we don't demonize each other for what we're trying to do," Emma nodded.
"Don't worry. If you find any antidote, I'll be the first to help you instill it in Mom," Henry grinned at his mother. "But until then, it's enough for me that she's with us."
When Emma checked on Regina a little later, she found her lying on her back on the bed, asleep in full street clothes. It had done the young woman good to talk to her son, even if they didn't see eye to eye. Now, however, she longed for her wife to take her in her arms and reassure her that everything would be all right. Unfortunately, she was aware that this was not going to happen. As Regina was breathing calmly and evenly, Emma quietly pulled the door shut again and stuck her head into Henry's room, who was now sitting at his desk doing his homework. "I want to go again, Henry. I'll call my mom and ask her if she can come over for a minute. Your mom's asleep at the moment."
"I've told you before that it's okay for me to stay alone with her," he pointed out, turning his swivel chair to face her. "Where do you have to go?"
"It's out of the question for you to look after her alone," Emma said immediately. Contrite, she then stepped from one foot to the other. "I just can't get over the fact that there's magic available in this town and it supposedly can't help to help your mom. I want to talk to the Blue Fairy and if she doesn't think Regina can be helped, then I guess I'll have to accept that, but I at least want to have asked her."
Henry looked at her with a mixture of disappointment and resignation before nodding. "Then I wish you every success with it."
Sighing, Emma took a seat on Henry's bed and propped her forearms on her knees. "I'm not just going to wait and see, Henry, even if you disapprove. I still have two options left: the fairy and the books in Regina's vault. If I don't find anything, then we can start to come to terms with this new reality. But I won't leave any stone unturned before then," she explained her view of things to him again.
"That's okay," Henry nodded and shrugged his shoulders. "You have a plan and that's good. I trust you... sort of."
Pressing her lips together, Emma nodded and stood up. "I'll call your grandma and I'll be out for a bit."
This time Henry was the one who nodded, his head already lowered again over his book on the desk.
So Emma quietly withdrew and dialed Snow's number on the way downstairs. After three rings, the brunette picked up.
"Emma, sweety, how are you?"
An involuntary smile stole across Emma's tired face. "Hey, Mom. I'm all right. I have a request for you, though. Would you have an hour to stay with Regina spontaneously?"
"Sure. But what's going on? Do you have an appointment?"
"Something like that," Emma mumbled.
"How's Regina?"
Emma bit her lip. "Listen, we'll talk in a minute when you get here, yeah?"
"Okay, honey. See you in a bit!"
When the conversation broke off, Emma shoved her smartphone back into her jeans pocket and went into the kitchen, where she prepared a couple of sandwiches, which she then covered and put away in the fridge. She didn't want her mother to have to worry about anything if she was going to be so kind as to drop by spontaneously to look after her wife. The thought made Emma take a deep breath and close her eyes as her forehead sank against the doorframe. She remained in this position until the doorbell rang. Emma tried to smile as she crossed the foyer and opened the door with a flourish. "Hello, Mom. Thanks for coming. Come on in."
"Hi, Emma," the brunette with the pixie cut greeted her and pulled her into a hug. She then held her by the upper arms and scrutinized her insistently. "You're pale. Are you sleeping properly?"
Emma looked away from her. "I'd like to be on my way then, if you don't mind." She tried to get away from her, but her mother held her tight.
"You have to talk to me, sweetheart. No one can do this alone. Your father and I can help you, but you have to say something!" she urged, stroking her cheek.
"That's nice of you," Emma nodded, but couldn't look her in the eye.
Snow scrutinized her daughter for a while before taking a deep breath. "Do you regret marrying her?" There was neither curiosity nor accusation in her tone. She spoke the words calmly and matter-of-factly and then looked away from her daughter.
This time, Emma's head really shot up. "What? Of course not!" she roared and stared at Snow, perplexed. "How can you even think that?"
"I have no doubt that you love Regina," Snow continued calmly, before pressing her lips together for a moment and looking regretfully at Emma. "But I have a feeling that this is all getting too much for you. This isn't what you expected from your marriage and I'm sure Regina would understand if you needed some space until the dust has settled."
Emma exhaled uncomprehendingly and released herself from her mother's grip. "The dust won't settle, Mom. Regina is ill and she's not going to get better, don't you understand? This is our life. I can either accept it or I have to leave her and that's not an option. If that's how you feel about me, you can leave right now!" Emma was so unspeakably angry with her mother that she could hardly put it into words. Where did she get the idea that she would leave Regina alone in this situation? Did she think she was such a cruel person?
"Please accept my apologies. I'm just so worried about you. I didn't mean to hurt you," Snow quickly assured her, tears glistening in her eyes. "Of course I'm happy to look after Regina while you're away."
Emma's jaw ground and she made every effort to regain her composure. "Fine, then that's settled," she replied in a cool voice and nodded over to the kitchen. "There's food in the fridge if Regina or Henry are hungry. You can help yourself, of course. Her medication is due at six, but I hope to be back by then. It's locked in the cupboard above the microwave. The key is in the flowerpot next to the washing machine. If she wants to get some fresh air, make sure she's dressed warmly enough. She usually doesn't notice when she's cold. And make sure she doesn't leave the property."
Snow nodded eagerly, as if to show that she was willing to make amends for all that had been said. "That's all right. And if there's anything I can't find, I'm sure I can call you."
"Please do," Emma replied, still very reserved. "See you later." With that, she left the house and poofed to the grounds on which the convent was built. The cool air did her good and helped to cool down her heated mind a little. Before she could get any angrier about what her mother had said, she bumped into Nova, who was tending to the garden before nightfall. "Hello, is the Blue Fairy available?" she enquired.
Nova rose from her crouching position and patted her soil-covered hands on her apron. "Hello, Emma. She's in the convent library. I'm sure she won't mind if you pay her a visit."
"Thank you," Emma nodded and felt the fairy's gaze on the back of her neck as she hurried up the front steps without another word, taking two steps at a time, and disappeared inside the convent. She had neither the time nor the nerve to get involved in a conversation now and certainly didn't want to have to explain herself. When she arrived in front of the large door that separated the main corridor from the library, she paused, rapped her knuckles against the fine wood and entered the high room.
The Blue Fairy was sitting at one of the writing desks and raised her eyes as the blonde entered. "Emma. What gives me the honor?" she wanted to know and looked at her kindly. "Why don't you sit down?"
But Emma didn't want to sit down. She paced restlessly up and down in front of the table, her hands clasped behind her back. "I need your help and I'm asking you not to send me away immediately and to hear me out first."
Instantly, the fairy's face took on a sad expression. "I know what you want to ask me, Emma. It's about Regina, isn't it? I'm sorry, but..."
"What did I just say?" Emma interrupted before the fairy could finish her sentence. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment and then looked at her pleadingly. "I don't expect you to be able to heal her. But perhaps there is a way to stabilize her condition. She is young and otherwise healthy. And a curse has done this to her. Shouldn't it be possible to counteract it with light magic?"
"We are all very grateful to Regina for what she has done. It was by no means a matter of course, everyone is well aware of that. Of course, after we found out what had happened to her, we mobilized all our forces and looked for a counter-spell. But in vain. I wish I could tell you something else, but I can't. If the doctors have no idea, then I'm afraid no one can help her, because magic can't either." The brunette pressed her lips together regretfully and looked at Emma sympathetically.
"Sure, yeah..." Emma mumbled, holding her forehead. "I have to... I'm sure there's something. You've just been looking in the wrong place." Without saying goodbye or even considering leaving the building first, Emma shrouded herself in white mist again and reappeared a moment later in Storybrooke Cemetery. With a firm stride, she headed for Regina's vault and gained entry.
Regina had already changed the seal on the mausoleum some time ago so that the blonde could enter it whenever she wanted. Emma therefore had no problem pushing the coffin aside and climbing down the stairs into the vault.
Shivering, Emma wrapped her arms around her body as she reached the bottom of the stairs and lit a fire as soon as she reached Regina's study, where row upon row of ancient tomes crowded the shelves. She was sure of one thing by now: if she couldn't find what she was looking for here, then no one could really help them.
The hours passed and it was only when her smartphone beeped to announce the arrival of a text message that Emma was startled out of her research and looked with red eyes at the mess of books lying on the floor that she had caused before reaching for her phone.
'I hope nothing has happened to you. Will you be home soon? Mom'
Emma glanced at the digital clock and was startled. It was already past 8 pm. She had been so engrossed in the old texts that she hadn't noticed how several hours had passed. 'On my way,' she quickly wrote back before collecting the books, carefully putting them back in their places and putting out the fire. Shortly afterwards, she was back outside the vault and able to poof back to Mifflin Street.
When she entered the house, Emma was already afraid of what awaited her. Regina probably didn't know what was going on, as her wife wasn't with her. She had also promised her mother that she would be back after an hour and now it was already dark outside. Out of breath, she burst into the living room, her apology already on her lips, ready for anything. But she hadn't expected the sight that greeted her.
Regina, Henry and Snow were sitting together around the coffee table playing Mau Mau.
"Hello, Emma," Regina said softly, her eyes shining as she looked over at her wife. "Do you want to play? I win, by the way," she grinned.
"Of course you win. It's not difficult if you cheat," laughed Henry and placed a card on the pile in the middle of the table.
"I'm not cheating. You're just not good enough," Regina replied and put down her last card. "See, I won again."
Groaning, Henry put his remaining cards on the table and stood up. "That's all right. You're the best Mau Mau player there is. Can we do something else now?"
Shrugging her shoulders, Regina stood up and refilled Snow's glass of water, which she had already finished. "Would you like something to drink too, Emma?"
"I... No, thanks," replied the blonde. The feelings inside her were going completely crazy. The initial queasy feeling had faded, but now she didn't know what to hold on to: the sadness that her search had come to nothing and that she had to realize that Regina was beyond help, or the joy that welled up inside her at the sight of the three of them. She slowly approached Regina and wrapped her arms around her. She squeezed her so tightly that she probably almost choked off her breath, but she had to hold her. She needed that reassurance that she was here and made of flesh and blood right now. When she finally opened her tightly closed eyes, she met her mother's gaze over Regina's shoulder.
Wordlessly, Snow seemed to ask her if her search had been successful.
And just as wordlessly, Emma shook her head imperceptibly and then buried her face against the warm crook of Regina's neck to force back her tears as she concentrated on the pressure of her tender hands against her back.