Chapter Text
“Do I have to stay here for the whole night?”
Emma sighed as she sat back in her seat, hands still curled around the steering wheel as she turned to look at Henry in the passenger seat beside her.
They were parked on the street outside the mansion, a home almost as intimidating as its occupant with its pristinely pruned hedges and dazzling white paint. It wasn’t the first time he’d come back here since the curse had broken but it was the first time he wouldn’t be listening out for her arrival to pick him up at the end of the evening.
“You promised you’d try, Henry.”
He chewed at his lip, fingers fidgeting with the backpack in his lap.
“Look, it’s only for one night. It’s not permanent,” she reminded him. Though Regina was desperate for him to return home to her for good, she was giving Henry the room to make his own mind up. “She just wants to spend time with you, kid. It’s not a bad thing”
He nodded. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his other mother. In fact, things between them had been the best Emma had ever seen them with the curse finally broken and her return from the Enchanted Forest. But he was still wary, still watchful. Still waiting for the other shoe to drop now that they’d finally begun to create a new normal post-curse breaking.
“Just give her a chance,” she pushed on, aware of the mansion door opening in her peripheral, Regina no doubt wondering what the delay was with them sitting out here. “If you really, really don’t want to stay, ask your mom to call me and I’ll come pick you up.”
“You promise?”
She smiled gently and nodded before sobering slightly as she asked, “But I really want you to try first, okay, Henry? I don’t want you coming up with some lame excuse to leave. Don’t take the easy way just because it’s there.”
“I will,” he agreed earnestly, nodding with a smile as his anxieties settled, “I re-promise.”
Emma breathed a laugh through her nose and nodded, “Thank you,” and then, to lift the mood a little, she said jokingly “now get out of my car.”
Henry laughed as he slipped his seatbelt off and checked the path was clear of anyone else before opening his car door and climbing out.
She was about to remind him not to slam it closed and to at least try and enjoy himself when she heard Regina calling her name. Frowning, she looked past Henry to check if what she’d heard was correct.
The brunette was looking at her with no real expression but she lifted a hand to beckon her over.
“Uh-oh,” Henry vocalised the slight trepidation she herself felt as she switched off the bug and unbuckled her seatbelt, checking the road for any oncoming cars before climbing out and shutting the door. “What do you think she wants?” he whispered conspiratorially as he opened the garden gate and Emma trailed behind him.
“Beats me,” Emma whispered back. “You think I can take her in a fight?”
Henry sniggered, “Without magic? Sure. But she could just turn you into a cockroach and squish you.”
”I thought she wasn’t using magic anymore?”
”She isn’t,” Henry shrugged, “but she might if she thinks you’re winning.”
“Well, if it starts to look like she’s winning, go get your Grandma.”
“Can I drive your bug?” Henry laughed, enjoying the joke.
“If it’ll get you there faster,” Emma replied, “by all means.”
She nudged him with her elbow, enjoying his laughter, as they came closer to the porch and to the waiting brunette.
Regina watched the exchange between the two of them, something unreadable moving across her features as Emma’s smile began to fade from her face.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she breathed, lifting a hand to push Henry’s hair out of his eyes when he climbed the porch steps and came to a stop in front of her. “Did you have a good day at school?”
”Yep,” he gave back with something of an awkward smile, allowing her affections for a few seconds, bouncing slightly on his heels as he looked from her to the open door behind her. “I’m gonna go make a start on my homework.”
Regina swallowed thickly and allowed her hand to drop, her mask falling just enough for Emma to see the sting of Henry’s indifference. She found herself, briefly, feeling sorry for the woman standing before her. Seconds ago, he’d been laughing as he walked beside Emma. The moment he’d gotten close to Regina, he’d stopped.
“You wanted to speak to me?”
“I would like to…” Regina began, eyes dropping to her feet for a moment as she tried to get her words out. “I would like to invite you to stay for dinner, Miss Swan.”
“I, uh…” Emma frowned, completely blindsided by the offer. It certainly wasn’t what she’d been expecting when the other woman had called her over. In fact, she had been readying herself for another fight over their current arrangement with Henry even as they’d joked about Regina’s intentions. “I…”
Regina’s expression tightened at her hesitation, her throat moving with another thick swallow as she folded her arms across her chest and straightened her posture, falling straight into defense mode. “If you have a prior engagement, I will not keep you from it. There is no obligation attached to my invitation.”
Emma’s eyes moved over the woman, over the change in her tone and posture. She was clearly struggling with this, with asking her to join them on one of the few evenings she got to spend with Henry alone and Emma understood this was not an easy offer for her to make but she was still making it. For Henry’s sake. “No, I can stay…” she replied, unable to keep from frowning slightly as Regina nodded, troubled dark eyes moving between her own before the older woman was turning and heading inside without another word, leaving Emma to follow.
She shut the door behind her with a soft click, taking a moment to lean back against it and understand what she’d just agreed to. No matter how thin and fragile it was, this was an olive branch that had been offered to her, and she’d just accepted it to take it.
“You may hang your jacket up if you wish,” Regina threw over her shoulder, pointing a finger at the coatstand by the steps leading up to the foyer.
“Okay, yeah.”
She slipped the red leather, her armour of sorts, from her body and hung it up before taking the few steps up and into the house. It was as grand and as pristine as ever.
The kitchen, however, was a different story.
Where the foyer had felt cold and intimidating, the kitchen felt warm and lived in in a way she hadn’t expected.
“You redecorate?” Emma asked as she took the room in. The last time she’d been here, that fateful evening she’d told Regina she was going to leave and had been handed the turnover that had changed it all, the place had felt too clean, too clinical.
Now, there were cookbooks stacked on the countertops, their spines broken and clearly used. A half empty mug of coffee sat beside a pad and pen with Regina’s elegant scrawl just visible from where Emma stood.
There were pots and pans hanging from a floating shelf with ivy trailing down from beneath them as though nature had taken over the space.
In fact, there were a lot of plants dotted around the large space.
“Henry’s idea,” Regina commented, smiling gently when he walked in through the door behind them and froze at the sight of Emma standing beside the kitchen island.
“You’re still here?”
“Your mom was nice enough to invite me to stay for dinner.”
“Awesome!”
Regina was watching them again but, this time, Emma caught the flicker of relief followed by a crushing sadness before the other woman was able to hide it. “Dinner will be ready shortly.”
Regina couldn’t know Henry had resisted staying here tonight, but his relief at Emma remaining was obvious. And despite the invitation, guilt still twisted in Emma’s stomach. She’d leave a polite amount of time after they finished dinner, to give Regina some alone time with Henry before his bed time.
Henry moved past Emma and dropped his backpack onto the counter, pulling his homework out and onto the kitchen island before climbing up onto a stool and opening his textbook.
She watched as Regina grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl, breezing around the room and placing it in front of him, squeezing his arm affectionately before she was moving back to the stove and busying herself with the delicious smelling food she had clearly already been working on before Emma had brought him home. Perfectly timing it so that it would be ready for him to eat soon after he arrived.
Henry continued reading as he picked up the banana with a distracted “Thanks,” and began peeling it
He hadn’t asked for a snack, hadn’t mentioned anything about being hungry but Regina had just known. It was an instinct Emma still lacked when it came to parenting. She knew the basics of how to care for him and remembered the things he liked and those that he didn’t. But Regina knew him. That much was clear.
She could almost see it as she stood quietly observing, their life together in this kitchen moving through her mind like a time lapse; Henry as a baby in his carrier on the countertop, Regina keeping him entertained as she fixed him some formula. Regina laughing at the ground, watching as Henry crawled as fast as his little body would allow, exploring the room, following her wherever she went. The pair of them stood at the kitchen island, Henry on a step so that he could help Regina stir cake batter, the two of them laughing when flour spilled over the top of the bowl.
Image after image of mother and son together, sharing their life and their laughter in this kitchen. All imagined by her, of course, but she suspected the reality hadn’t been much different.
Until Henry had started noticing that things in this little town weren’t quite what they seemed. Until he’d gotten his hands on a book that had changed the way he’d viewed his world, the way he’d viewed the woman he’d always known as his mother.
She wondered what things had looked like then, how often Henry had joined Regina in this kitchen, how often she’d asked him to join her before she’d simply stopped trying altogether.
“Miss Swan?”
Emma blinked herself back into the present, turning her head to find Regina staring at her with a furrowed brow. “What?”
“I asked if you’d prefer a glass of wine with your meal or something else.”
“Oh, uh…whatever you’re drinking.”
Regina nodded and turned back to the oven, slipping a pair of oven gloves on before opening the door and filling the room with the smell of something that made her mouth water.
“Wha-“
“Lasagne,” Henry answered for her with a grin, closing his textbook and jumping down from his stool. “Mom’s is the best.”
Emma noticed the slight curve to Regina’s lips as she placed the dish in question on a cutting board, closing the oven door with her foot as she did. “Better than Granny’s?”
“If your intention is to insult me, Miss Swan,” Regina warned, though Emma, surprised, could hear humour in her tone, “you are succeeding.”
“I apologise, Madame Mayor,” she gave back, raising her palms in surrender. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Yes, well,” dark eyes lifted to find her own, “make yourself useful and help Henry set the table.”
“Manners cost nothing, you know,” Emma replied with feigned sternness even as she took the plates Regina offered to her, trying not to smile at the eye roll she received in response.
“Except, perhaps, my sanity.”
“This is weird,” Henry frowned as he rounded the island and moved to stand beside Regina, pulling the cutlery drawer open, grabbing knives and forks for the three of them.
Regina’s hand automatically lifted, her fingers stroking through his hair as she asked, “What is, sweetheart?”
He looked up, pushing the drawer closed with his hip. “You two, getting along.”
Emma let out a laugh as Regina’s brows lifted in surprise at his answer. “I wouldn’t say we’re ’getting along’, Henry.”
“We’ve just come to an…understanding,” Regina finished for her, dark eyes meeting her own for a moment and Emma wanted to kick Henry for interrupting the first easy conversation she’d ever had with his mother because she could see those walls lifting once more, could see the way Regina’s posture straightened again as she let her hand drop and moved to a cabinet behind her to pull some glasses out.
She’d forgotten herself for a moment in this kitchen, had allowed herself to relax and to be human. When she turned back to face them, Emma could see that their moment of levity had gone. Back to business as usual.
“Come on, Henry,” she sighed, nodding for him to take the lead out of the kitchen, “let’s get out of your mom’s hair.”
She chanced a look behind her before the kitchen door swung shut and caught one last glimpse of Regina’s troubled expression and felt that stab of guilt all over again.
“Well, kid,” Emma breathed, sitting back in her seat as she placed her cutlery down on her empty plate, “you were right. Best lasagne I’ve ever tasted.” Her eyes drifted over to Regina who was looking down at her plate, no reaction at all to the praise.
Henry’s, “Told ya,” should have delighted Regina. It should have made her swell with pride to know that she’d given her son something to boast about, something to be proud of her for. But, having spent the majority of dinner enviously watching Emma and Henry’s easy back and forth, Regina couldn’t find it in her to feel much of anything other than the crushing realisation that her son was already lost to her, never to return.
Emma, for her part, had tried to include Regina at many points during conversation. When Henry had asked question after question about the blonde’s time in the Enchanted Forest, about the people she’d met and the creatures she’d faced off against, Emma had begun describing them before turning to her and encouraging her to get involved, asking her if ogres had always been such a nuisance during her time there.
When Regina had moved to answer, Henry had swiftly moved them on. He’d asked about the beanstalk, about the giant she’d met at the top of it. It hadn’t been malicious on his part, Regina knew her son well enough for that, it was just sheer excitement. But that didn’t make the unintentional dismissal any easier to take.
“He mentioned his family had been killed, that humans had turned against the giants,” Emma turned to Regina again, “something about stealing magic beans?”
Regina nodded, swallowing the sip of wine she’d taken and opening her mouth to respond.
“Okay but, like, how big was he? And did you really just let him go when you had him trapped?”
She’d gotten the hint shortly after that and had simply resigned herself to listening rather than participating.
His indifference to her in the face of his other mother seemed to hurt more than if he’d told her he hated her.
At least if he hated her, it meant he felt something towards her. But ever since Emma and Snow’s return, he seemed to have lost any former interest he’d had in her and each moment allowed another crack in her heart to form.
She wasn’t sure how much she’d be able to take before it shattered completely.
“Regina?”
She blinked away the tears beginning to form in her eyes, plastering a polite smile on her face as she stood and asked, “Are we all finished?” even as she began gathering their plates.
Henry nodded, already thinking of something else to ask Emma, oblivious to her emotion as she reached over him but the blonde, Regina noticed, was staring at the plate of food Regina had barely touched.
She was extremely observant. It irked and panicked the brunette in equal measure because she was also bold enough to call her out on it.
Regina glanced at the younger woman, giving a subtle shake of her head when Emma opened her mouth to speak. To her credit, she didn’t say anything, only continued to watch as Regina gathered the remnants of their dinner before she was having to turn her attention back to Henry and answer another of his questions.
Regina moved as quickly as she could from the dining room, cutlery clattering against the dishes in her hands as she all but ran.
She felt as though she couldn’t breathe, her chest tight with emotion, her fingertips tingling against the ceramic of the plates.
Inviting Emma to stay had been a grave mistake on her part. Not because the woman had caused her any kind of trouble tonight. In fact, she’d been surprisingly good company. But her presence had only magnified the ever-growing tear in Regina’s relationship with Henry.
When they were alone together, when Henry would allow her to engage him in conversation and offer her a little more access to his life, she’d been able to pretend that their relationship could be mended. She’d been able to hope that all was not lost between them.
But after tonight, that hope had deserted her and she wasn’t quite sure how to survive its loss. The loss of her son, her everything.
Without him, what was the point of her? How could she call herself a mother without a son who loved or even needed her?
He had all the family he wanted now. He no longer had any use for her.
She was in the kitchen again, her back to the door, her hands tinged pink from the heat of the water they were submerged in.
Emma’s voice drifted though the ceiling above her head, lilting as she read to Henry - as per his request of course.
It was a book he and Regina had been working their way through some time ago, before conspiracy theories (based in pure fact) and storybooks (also based in pure fact).
It had been a nightly ritual of theirs. After conversations about school over dinner and questions of what adventures they were going to have that weekend - it was going to be warm, perhaps a trip to the beach - when homework had been finished and put away and Henry had taken a bath. Regina would get herself ready for bed and make her way down the hall to his room. They’d sit side by side in his bed, tucked up close together with his temple against her shoulder and sometimes even an arm looped through hers, as she’d read.
“Do the voices, it’s better when you’d do the voices.”
It had always made her somewhat self-conscious when he’d requested that of her. It had been so long since she’d had anyone to be silly for or even with that it had felt foreign to her. Like a skill she’d long since forgotten.
But as soon as she’d start, as soon as she’d get comfortable and really truly stepped up to the challenge, all of that self-conscious worry would evaporate with the sheer sounds of delight she would pull from her son.
He was laughing now, she could hear it subtly underneath the melody of Emma’s reading voice.
She lasted only a few more agonising seconds, her hands curling around a plate with almost enough strength to crack it in two, before she took her hands from the water and frantically dried them off, turning to flick on the radio she kept beside the stove, drowning out the noise from above her with increasing volume.
“Regina?”
She jumped at the sound of Emma’s voice over the music. She hadn’t realised they’d stopped reading, too lost in her thoughts to pay attention to much else.
“Please, Miss Swan,” she sighed without turning from the sink, her soap slicked fingers clenching around the dish she’d been cleaning as she heard the kitchen door swing shut behind the blonde, “I simply do not have the energy for any more tonight.”
She dried her hands off once more and turned the radio off. Turning in place with her eyes cast downwards.
“I just wanted to check if you needed any help.”
“You’ve already helped enough tonight. Do not feel obliged to stay any longer for my benefit.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She looked up at that, irritation flaring at the indignant expression on Emma’s face. “It means that you are free to leave. Henry is asleep. You’ve no more reason to linger.”
“You invited me to stay for dinner, remember.”
“Yes, well,” she laughed humourlessly, “a clear moment of insanity on my part. Don’t worry, I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Okay,” Emma shook her head, confusion and a little bit of hurt coloring her words, “I really don’t understand what’s going on here, Regina.” She shifted her weight and leaned a hip against the doorframe, “I thought things had gone quite well tonight, all things considered.”
“For you, perhaps.”
“Hey, I tried to include you. I told him before we came here that he had to try, that he had to give you a chance.”
“Oh, well aren’t you just wonderful,” Regina bit out on a snarl, “thank you for coming to my defence, Miss Swan. What in the world would I do without your help?”
Emma’s eyebrows lifted, a smile on her face though there was no warmth in it, only bafflement. “You are lucky you’re getting anyone’s help after what you’ve done. You’re lucky Henry’s even willing to give you another chance after what you did to him.”
“What I-“
“You spent the best part of a year trying to convince him and everyone around him that he was crazy! All the while knowing he was getting closer and closer to the truth. Don’t pretend that was for his benefit.”
“I was trying to protect him,” Regina gave back, furious at the way her voice quivered with emotion. “He had no business being a part of any of it.”
“Of course he did! It’s his whole history, Regina. It’s in his goddamn DNA and you kept that from him. You isolated him, twisted his words, made him question himself all so that you could cling on to your curse. And you expect him to, what? Act like nothing ever happened? To come back here and just be glad that it’s all over and things can go back to normal?”
“Of course I don’t!” Regina spat, her composure nowhere to be found as her emotions bubbled to the surface in the face of Emma’s words. “I know what I did to him was wrong, I know it was unforgivable. Nothing you are telling me is news to me, Miss Swan. Believe me. No one could possibly hate me more than I already hate myself.”
“He doesn’t hate you, Regina.”
“That may be so but he certainly doesn’t love me any more and I don’t know how long I can go on pretending in the face of that!”
“Pretending what?” Emma’s anger faltered slightly, her frown deepening as Regina began to quake in front of her. “What are you talking about?”
“Pretending that I can live with Henry’s indifference. Pretending I can live with this pain.” She leaned back against the sink, her hands lifting to cling to the curved edge of it in the hopes it would help her remain standing. “Without Henry, I have nothing. Without Henry, I have no reason to stay here in this town, surrounded by people I hate and who hate me in return. Without Henry, this was all for nothing.”
“You keep saying ‘without Henry,’ but you’re not without him. He’s literally sleeping upstairs in his big comfy bed, surrounded by his favourite toys after listening to me read from his favourite book.” Emma took a step forward, cringing and remaining in place when Regina glared up at her. “You cooked him his favourite food, asked me to stay here because you knew he’d like it, didn’t cause a scene despite clearly being uncomfortable all night all for his benefit. He may be a little too young right now to see that, but he knows you’re trying, Regina. He can see that much at least, otherwise he wouldn’t be here.”
“You yourself told me only moments ago that you’d had to convince him to stay.”
“Only because he’s a kid and kids don’t like facing up to the hard stuff, regardless of what or who it is,” Emma pointed out. “He loves you, Regina. Despite what you may think, he does. He’s still learning that there’s more to the world than just black and white, than just right or wrong. He doesn’t understand the grey yet, not like I do, not like you do. But he will. In time. You just need to give it time.”
Regina’s shoulders dropped along with the last of her strength as shook her head with eyes on her shoes, unable to look at the woman standing in front of her, trying to comfort her despite their history. “I’m exhausted, Emma.” She lifted her head, catching the surprise on the blonde’s face at the use of her name. “All my life, I’ve…” but she stopped herself. She didn’t want to delve too deep into the darkness tonight, not when she was so close to losing it. Not with her son sleeping soundly upstairs. Tonight was not the night for that. Instead, she put it simply. “I just don’t have the strength any more.”
Emma’s concern was clear in the expression on her face; in the tightness around her eyes and the deep furrow of her brow. “Regina, I-“
“Please,” Regina breathed, eyes closing tiredly. “I would really appreciate it if you could just go.”
There was a moment of silence, a lingering beat in which Regina worried Emma was going to argue with her, to push her further but, instead, the blonde nodded gently and replied, “Okay. I’ll go.” And then, as she opened the kitchen door and looked back over her shoulder, she added, “Just…don’t do anything stupid, Regina. Henry loves you and if you keep showing him how much you are willing to change just like you’ve already been doing, you’ll see it again.”
Regina said nothing, only raised her eyebrows by means of acknowledging her words as she swallowed thickly, waiting to be alone.
“Let me know when to come get him tomorrow, I’ll leave that up to you.”
“I will, Miss Swan,” Regina confirmed without looking at her. She had revealed far too much already, she couldn’t risk meeting imploring eyes and opening that wound up further. “Goodbye.”
Henry trudged down the stairs sleepily, one hand trailing along the smooth wood of the banister while the other was balled into a first, rubbing at his tired eyes. His bed in the loft was comfy enough but it was nothing compared to his bed here. He’d missed it.
He could hear her in the kitchen, metal against ceramic as she stirred her coffee. He could smell it through the door as he reached the foyer. The kitchen was where he’d always found her every morning when he’d been living here consistently, why should today be any different.
Sure enough, when he pushed the door open and stepped into the room, she was sitting on a tall stool, elbow on the kitchen island countertop with her palms curled around a steaming mug. She was still in her pyjamas, no makeup on her face and her hair still messy from sleep.
She turned her head to look at him and smiled, “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”
Henry nodded, padding over to the stool next to her and pulling himself up onto it. It was instinctual, a habit he didn’t think anything of when he leaned into her and rested his head on her shoulder, eyes closing sleepily. But, unlike in the past, he felt the way she tensed at the contact before she lifted her arm and wrapped it around his shoulders.
He readjusted, his head now closer to hers, the smell of her hair a comfort he hadn’t experienced in some time. It confused him. He was still mad at her and he wasn’t sure why he’d even come to sit next to her. He’d blame it on sleepiness later if he came to dwell on it. But for now, he let her press a kiss to his head and felt the way she leaned her cheek against his hair.
“What would you like for breakfast?”
He inhaled a deep breath, willing himself to wake up a little more but unable to in the cocoon of her warmth. She always did give great hugs. “Can we have pancakes?”
She chuckled softly and nodded against him, “Of course. Blueberry or chocolate chip?”
He was quiet for a moment, contemplating, wondering if he’d ruin the peace of the morning before he asked, “Both?”
He was expecting some kind of reprimand for asking, a reminder that the last time she’d made both for him, he’d wasted half of them. But, instead, she just laughed and replied, “Sure, why not.” And then, with another kiss to his head, “But you’re helping me make them.” She answered so quickly it was almost like she hadn’t even considered saying no to him.
Henry lifted his head from her chest, pulling back to look at her face and finding himself unable to stop the smile that formed to mirror her own as he looked into warm dark eyes. “Deal.”
Her forehead came down to rest against his in a way she hadn’t done since he was much younger, in a way that had always given him the absolute most comfort but now made something pang painfully within him as he furrowed his brow with his eyes closed. For a second, he almost forgot why things between them weren’t simple any more.
She felt the change in him, he could tell with the way her own brow furrowed against his and she asked, “Too much?” on a shaky breath that washed over his face.
He nodded gently, pulling back slowly and feeling a stab of guilt at the expression on Regina’s face at the loss of the closeness. “A little,” he admitted with a grimace.
Troubled dark eyes moved between his own for a quick second before she was schooling her features and forcing a smile onto her lips as she nodded. “Go wash up,” she stood from her stool and took her coffee to the sink, “we’ll get started on breakfast when you’re back, okay?” She didn’t even take another sip before pouring it away.
Henry watched her for a second, surprisingly annoyed at himself for breaking the moment between them despite his previous intentions of keeping his distance from her. He wanted to be close to her this morning and it confused him. Last night had been easier with Emma here, but when it was just them, when he remembered what things had been like before he’d known who she truly was, he found he missed her fiercely.
“Henry?”
He blinked. She was still at the sink but she had turned to see why he hadn’t answered her and must have caught the way he had been staring at her. “Okay,” he replied with a frown, climbing down from the stool and turning to make his way out of the kitchen to the downstairs bathroom.
Henry had somehow managed to get flour absolutely everywhere.
It dusted the front of Regina’s black silk pyjama shirt in pale handprints from where he’d hugged her around the waist while trying to steal chocolate chips from the bowl she’d been holding. There was a streak of batter across the kitchen island, another somehow on the handle of the refrigerator and, most impressively of all, a small white smudge high on Regina’s cheekbone that she had yet to notice.
“You are a menace,” she informed him as she slid another pancake onto the growing stack between them.
Henry grinned around a mouthful of blueberry pancake, entirely unrepentant as he reached for the syrup. “You said I had to help.”
“I fail to recall asking you to wreck my kitchen.”
“That was mostly your fault.”
Her eyebrows lifted as she turned from the stove, spatula still in hand. “My fault?”
“You distracted me.”
Regina let out a soft laugh at that, one Henry realised with a strange pang he hadn’t heard properly in a long time. Not the fake polite kind she used around other people. A real laugh. Warm and surprised and a little breathless around the edges.
“Oh, naturally,” she drawled. “How foolish of me. Next time I shall endeavour not to interrupt whilst you’re making a mess.”
Henry snorted into his juice, shoulders shaking with laughter as Regina shook her head fondly and reached for her new cup of coffee. She paused halfway through the movement, eyes narrowing slightly at his face.
“What?” he frowned.
“You’ve got something…” She gestured vaguely towards her own mouth before stepping closer without waiting for permission this time, her thumb brushing a streak of syrup from the corner of his lips.
The touch was brief. Careful.
Too careful.
Henry felt it immediately, the hesitation beneath it. Like she was still waiting to see if he’d pull away from her again. Something uncomfortable twisted in his stomach.
Because she hadn’t always been like this with him. Regina used to touch him constantly without thinking about it. A hand in his hair when she passed him in the hallway, fingers against the back of his neck while helping with homework, absentminded kisses to his forehead whenever she thought he was upset.
Now every bit of affection seemed deliberate. Measured. Like she was asking a question before she touched him and bracing herself for the answer.
Before he could think too hard about it, the doorbell rang.
Regina blinked, attention shifting immediately towards the foyer. “Have you spoken to Emma this morning?”
She’d asked him a little while ago to let her know when he was ready to leave. A small part of him had almost accepted the offer for her to call Emma before a larger part had stopped him. Despite his earlier hesitance, he’d wanted to stay here with her a little longer.
Henry shook his head slowly as she set her mug down. Whatever softness had settled over her during breakfast seemed to pull tight again almost instantly, her shoulders straightening as she moved from the kitchen.
“I’ll get it.”
He watched her go before looking down at his plate, appetite fading slightly as he listened to the muted sound of the front door opening.
There was a pause. Then Emma’s voice. “Hey.”
Henry smiled automatically at the sound of her before another voice joined hers. Snow. His stomach dropped a little.
“We just thought it would be easier this way,” his grandmother was saying gently as Henry slipped from his stool and wandered towards the kitchen doorway. “One night was a very good start.”
Silence.
Henry rounded the corner enough to see Regina standing in the foyer, one hand still curled around the edge of the open front door. Emma was beside Snow and David but unlike the Charmings, she looked deeply uncomfortable, eyes flicking immediately towards Regina’s face.
“We talked about it on the drive over,” Emma said quickly. “I told them I could just come grab him myself but—”
“It’s perfectly alright,” Regina interrupted smoothly. Too quickly.
Henry recognised that voice. Cold and composed and careful enough that it barely sounded like the woman who’d laughed with him over pancakes less than five minutes ago. It sounded like the Mayor, like the woman she’d been before they’d broken her curse.
“It’s not that we don’t appreciate you having him,” David added, missing entirely the way Regina’s expression had shuttered in on itself. “We just don’t want to rush things.”
Henry looked at Regina then and felt something twist painfully in his chest.
She’d gone completely still.
Not angry. Not shouting. Somehow worse than that.
Like she’d folded whatever hope the morning had given her into something very small and hidden it somewhere deep inside herself before anyone could take it away.
Henry hesitated in the foyer, backpack hanging loosely from one shoulder as the silence stretched awkwardly between them.
Only twenty minutes ago Regina had been laughing in the kitchen, flour dusted across her cheek while she threatened to ban him from helping her cook ever again. Now she stood near the doorway with her hands folded neatly in front of her, every inch the Mayor once more. Composed. Untouchable.
They were both showered and dressed now, flour and batter washed away from their skin along with the ease of the morning. It made something ache in his chest.
“Henry,” Emma said gently, glancing between the two of them. “We should probably get going, kid.”
He looked at Regina again, waiting for her to say something. Ask him to come back next weekend. Tell him she’d see him soon. Something. But she only smiled. Small and careful.
“Enjoy the rest of your day, sweetheart.”
The words hit strangely. Too formal. Especially after how desperately she’d clung to every ounce of affection he’d allowed her to give him during his stay. His brow furrowed. “Okay…”
Snow was already moving back towards the car and David gave Regina a stiff nod before following after her. Emma lingered behind, clearly wanting to say something but Regina had already stepped back from the doorway.
“It wasn’t my idea,” Emma said quietly.
Regina’s expression softened for the briefest moment. “I know.”
Something passed between them then that Henry didn’t fully understand. Guilt, maybe. Or sympathy. Emma looked like she wanted to argue further but eventually sighed and reached for Henry’s shoulder instead. “Come on.”
Henry nodded distractedly before turning back towards Regina one last time. She was still standing exactly where he’d left her. Watching, forcing herself to remain expressionless in the face of something he knew was hurting her.
And suddenly, without really thinking about it, he crossed the foyer again. Regina barely had time to look surprised before he wrapped his arms around her middle in a quick hug. For a second she froze completely. Then her arms came around him so tightly it almost hurt.
Henry swallowed hard against the strange lump rising in his throat. “I’ll see you later, okay?” he mumbled into her shoulder.
Regina made a soft sound that might have been agreement, one hand smoothing shakily through his hair before she leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Of course you will,” she whispered. “Whenever you want.”
When he pulled away, her eyes looked brighter than before though her smile remained steady. He almost stayed. The feeling hit him suddenly and unexpectedly as he walked back towards Emma. That strange pull to remain here in the warm kitchen with half-finished pancakes and syrup bottles still sitting on the counter.
Home.
But then Snow called for them from outside and the moment broke apart.
The front door closed softly behind them.
Silence settled over the house almost immediately.
Regina remained standing in the foyer for several long moments, staring at the closed door long after the sound of Emma’s bug disappeared down the street.
Then slowly, mechanically, she returned to the kitchen.
The remains of breakfast still cluttered the counters. Henry’s glass sat abandoned beside the mixing bowl, one sticky fingerprint visible near the rim. A dish towel had been tossed carelessly beside the stove. There was still flour on the floor.
Regina reached out absently, fingertips brushing over the back of the stool Henry had sat on earlier that morning. Emma had been right. The thought came quietly now, stripped raw of all the panic and grief from the night before.
Henry still loved her. Perhaps not easily. Perhaps not fully. But he did. And for the first time in longer than Regina cared to admit, hope unfurled carefully beneath her ribs instead of pain.
Exhaustion followed close behind it. She sank slowly onto the stool beside the kitchen island, one hand lifting to press briefly against her eyes as the morning finally caught up with her.
A faint sound broke the silence.
Regina’s eyes opened instantly.
She cocked her head, waiting, listening. A small, ridiculous part of her believed that perhaps Henry had gotten Emma to turn around and had come back. That she would hear a knock on the front door any minute and he’d be standing there, telling her that he didn’t want to leave.
He hadn’t really wanted to, at least not when they’d arrived. She’d seen it in his eyes. That same want that she felt to remain in the bubble of their perfect moment.
But it had been popped. They’d both known it, even if it had been hard to admit it. It didn’t mean they couldn’t have it again though.
She kept waiting, listening.
There it was again - soft, almost imperceptible. But this time, she felt it. A shift. A disturbance in the air, like the echo of something that didn’t belong.
Magic.
Her magic reacted before she did, a low, instinctive hum beneath her skin. She had been working for so long at controlling herself, at keeping her magic at bay. But something told her she needed it now, needed to bring it back to the surface just in case.
Regina straightened slowly.
“Hello?” she called, her voice carrying easily through the house.
No answer. Of course not.
She stepped out of the kitchen, movements measured now, controlled. Alert. This was her domain.
The air felt…wrong. Subtly so, enough that someone other than her might not notice. But Regina had lived with magic too long not to recognise when it had been touched. Twisted.
Her fingers curled slightly at her side, power gathering without conscious thought.
“Who’s there?” she demanded, sharper this time.
A pause. Then-
“I was beginning to wonder,” a voice said quietly from behind her, “if you would notice at all, what with the lovely little morning you’ve been having.”
Regina turned.
He stood near the doorway, unremarkable at first glance. Ordinary. The kind of man one might pass on the street without a second thought. Which was, Regina realised with a sudden cold clarity, exactly the point.
“I know you,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “you’re the-“
He lifted a finger to his lips, so eerily calm that it frightened her more than if he’d raised his voice to her. He wasn’t afraid of her. This clearly wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. This was planned.
“We’ll have plenty of time to get to know one another, Your Majesty.”
Regina took a step back, magic coiling tighter in her palm. “If you’ve come here to make a point, I suggest you do so quickly.”
“I already have.” He lifted his hand.
Regina moved instantly, power surging forward in a sharp, instinctive strike. She faltered. Just for a second, just long enough for him to react. The magic twisted, not hers. Something else.
It caught her mid-cast, unravelling the spell before it could fully form, snapping back against her like a broken tether. Pain flared, sudden and disorienting, stealing the breath from her lungs.
Regina staggered. “What-“
The word barely formed before the room tilted.
The last thing she saw was the man watching her - calm, steady, utterly certain.
And then, the terrible darkness closed in.