#emma fell first regina fell harder. i refuse to accept anything else

[mryddinwilt]

Some Mama Snow with a side of suggested Tinkerhook and early CS. Set at the end of 3x03 just after they picked up Tinkerbell. Inspired by the Snowing song in the musical number but contains no spoilers. Just my headcanons. Unbetad

Hook and Tinkerbell–still weird– lead the way through the jungle, walking almost shoulder to shoulder and talking in low voices. The sight unnerved Emma. It wasn’t hard to guess that those two had history but what kind? It hadn’t escaped Emma’s notice that Hook hadn’t lifted his sword toward the fairy or that he had called her pet names in that frustratingly familiar way he had. There was still so much she didn’t know about him, couldn’t trust about him.

She looked behind her to see Regina following, deep in thought and barely aware of where she went. For some reason the mayor trusted Tinkerbelle to help save Henry and maybe that should be enough. Emma turned back around and caught Hook grinning at the fairy. Her stomach gave a twist and she gritted her teeth against the surge of what she wouldn’t admit was jealousy.

She looked away peering into the jungle and refusing to care who Hook smiled at.

“Hey.”

Emma glanced up to see Mary-Margaret falling into step beside her.

“Hey.”

“You okay?” Her mother’s eyes traveled to Hook and then back at Emma as if she guessed at something. Emma’s defenses flared up, first Regina called him her boyfriend and now Mary-Margaret was giving her that look.

“I’m fine.”

They walked in silence for awhile and Emma could feel the other woman thinking, trying to work out a way to say something. Emma squirmed inside. Her confession on the log the other night had been difficult but it had connected them in a way that reminded Emma of her friend, Mary-Margaret and not her mother, Snow White. She must have felt it too because she had seemed intent on strengthening it; dropping comments and sending Emma glances throughout the day. It was kind of sweet, it was kind of annoying.

“I talked to birds,” Mary-Margaret burst out.

“What?” Emma’s steps faltered and she stared at her before continuing to walk.

Mary-Margaret gave a self-conscience smile. “I know it sounds insane but–“ she shrugged. “It’s one of the few things the Disney movies got right.”

Emma blinked trying to process the information. “Okay. You talked to birds.”

She nodded. “And my horse and sometimes chipmunks.”  Emma felt slow, like she was missing the point entirely.

“Why exactly did you talk to them?”

“Because I had no one else to talk to.”

It was said openly, honestly, without the pain or hostility Emma would have expected. Her brows furrowed.

“It started just after my mother died. I would just tell them everything I was thinking or feeling and they would chirp back and somehow it made things better. When I lived in the woods sometimes I wouldn’t see another person for weeks. The animals kept me sane.” She gave a little laugh. “Or I guess as sane as a woman who talks to animals can be.”

Her voice was bright a small, smile on her face but Emma sensed the pain behind it. Regina coped with sharp barbs and snark, Hook with innuendo and smirks, and these were methods Emma understood and accepted, but to face pain and loneliness with a smile and hope the way her mother did was harder for her to grasp. Mary-Margaret hid behind smiles, so often that Emma sometimes forgot that she was hiding, that she wasn’t as untouched by pain or sorrow as she appeared. Feeling awkward with the revelation Emma used one of her own weapons.

“Okay. Well, I guess as long as you didn’t sing to them it’s not so crazy.”

“Actually–”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“It was a spell!” Mary-Margaret protested.

“A singing curse? Really?” Emma shook her head and grinned. “And I thought tromping through Neverland with Captain Hook, the Evil Queen, Snow White and Prince Charming was the pinnacle of weird.”

Mary-Margaret chuckled beside her. “Something tells me your life might get much weirder.”

“I sure hope not. This is about all I can handle.”

“No. You can handle much more. You can handle anything.” The faith in her voice made Emma’s throat close up. She hadn’t known how much she needed that little boost of confidence.

Emma smiled her thanks. They fell into a companionable silence that lasted until they reached their camp. And it wasn’t until she was laying down to sleep that Emma found herself wondering just how a singing curse would work. Images of every Disney musical number she had ever watched flashed before her eyes. She would ask Mary-Margret in the morning about it. And it was that thought that followed her into sleep and gave her some very interesting dreams.

[scribbles-by-kate]

Thoughts on 6.10 “Wish You Were Here”

This was a fun Swan Queen episode and we got some hope for RumBelle as well, though, on the whole, I wouldn’t call this the most exciting winter finale ever, and I can’t believe we have to wait till March for the second half!

My Fan fiction My Once Upon a Time episode reviews, essays, and meta

Methinks the Evil Queen doth protest too much - of course she still loves Robin. She’s a bad liar, but Regina apparently believed her.

The sword can hurt the queen - I was pretty sure that Regina would be there when Emma did something to the queen with that sword so that they could all see that, while it hurt the queen, it didn’t hurt Regina. Not sure I like how fast the Saviour Emma Swan jumps to ‘It can kill her’ and attempts to do just that. Clearly a wasted effort removing her darkness, Snowing.

Rumple, I’m in no mood - too bad, Queenie. Yes, I love protective Rumple. And, yes, that’s where one of those cuffs belongs, on your enemy, not your wife. You’re getting it, Rumple.

The Evil Queen needs to die - look at Regina’s face, Emma. People need to start accepting that the Queen is part of Regina.

Henry telling her not to - he’s worried, of course, and frustrated that she won’t listen to him. I think he’s probably tired of his family putting themselves in danger.

Emma refusing to let Regina sacrifice herself - I love the supportiveness. Emma gets, on some level, that there’s something not right with Regina. She’s too reckless.

The Evil Queen’s wish for Emma - knew that was going to come back to haunt Emma. It was interesting to see her react so negatively, suggests she is happy being the Saviour after all.

Princess Emma of the Enchanted Forest - ok, that was so funny. That so wasn’t Emma at all.

Nealfire moment - I LOVED this! It was so lovely to see that hero portrait. So glad he and Emma found each other in that world.

Henry wants to be a hero - so much so that he isn’t pleased when his grandmother says this family’s done fighting. I foresee trouble with young Henry’s unrealised hero ambitions…

How do you share a home with someone and not know their secrets? - Um, David?

Rumple and the magic globe - I love that the magic is gold :) I knew it wouldn’t work, though - that’d be too easy, but for there not to be even a trace…that’s worrying.

The Evil Queen and Aladdin - I can only echo Aladdin’s feeling. ‘Ew’. Aladdin was great in this episode :)

Regina realising she is also master of the lamp - good girl, Regina! You remembered you and the queen are the same and it worked to your advantage.

Regina and the dwarfs - I love how she’s so happy to see them!

Singing princess Emma - so not Emma! It was interesting to see Regina dressed as a prince, meeting Princess Emma. The Swan Queen was so overt this episode. Adam and Eddy know what they wrote, right?

Mom, Daddy, please help - again, so not Emma!

Rumple in the queen’s castle - cool scene. Crazy imp Rumple is great, and it’s been ages since we’ve seen him. That was a great scene between Lana and Robert. And I kind of love how Rumple just accepted the whole ‘you’re not real’ thing! Just goes to show he’s seen it all :)

Let’s start with actions - oh, Rumple, you beauty! Keep going like this and you’ll win her back. I love that that’s the first thing he does: it means he knows it was wrong and is undoing it quickly. I love that he knows he has to follow through with actions. My heart broke at Belle’s sniffle, and the teddy bear - sob!

Regina as the Evil Queen interrupts Henry’s knighting - great call back to the pilot, and I like the new version of the Evil Queen outfit. It was also interesting to see Lana play that scene as well - like acting the Evil Queen instead of being the Evil Queen - fabulous!

David tricking the queen - ooh, who knew David could be devious?! One of his best scenes, I think.

David’s wish for the queen - that she get exactly what’s coming to her, and, of course, he calls her a snake, so that’s what the man in the hood - aka Gideon - turns her into. Poetic justice. Really, though, it’s a way to give Lana a break and let Regina play out the whole wish Robin scenario. Of course, Robin is part of David’s wish too, since Regina and the Queen are the same person.

Emma, Regina, Henry, and Snowing at Regina’s castle - that was kind of intense. I think, despite what Regina said, she did kill Snow and Charming: she did crush their hearts. The way she did that too was interesting, like she got carried away with her frustration - a little darkness coming out. Emma’s reaction was interesting too - Princess Emma not knowing how to fight. I think, as much as people think it was Regina refusing to fight Henry that brought Emma back, I think it was Henry himself. She even says it was because he was willing to become dark, everything she never wanted for him, that brought her back and made her realise this world isn’t real. This makes more sense given the deleted scene from season five, where, in the Underworld, Emma tells Henry ‘Never darken your soul, not even for me’. It’s her love for Henry that brings her back, though, of course, Regina is the catalyst.

Rumple, Belle, and Blue - I do wonder about Blue here. She looks pretty beat up, but couldn’t she have fought harder to protect Gideon? And does she know that the Black Fairy is Rumple’s mother? I know some people thought she was looking at him, but I’m not sure. I think the camera moved to him from her for his reaction, but I don’t know that she knew. If she did, she could have found it out in the intervening time between freeing Belle to save the baby and now, or else she always knew, which might explain why she hates Rumple so much, and why she wanted him out of the Enchanted Forest all those years ago.

Emma, Regina, and Rumple - I do love this scene. Emma’s little smile when he says he’s off to raze some fake villages :) And Rumple keeping his promise on behalf of all Rumplestiltskins everywhere :)

David won’t use a wish to wake Snow - probably wise. He gets that magic comes with a price and he doesn’t want that near his wife. Still, I wonder when we’ll see this curse broken. It’s like Snowing is getting the RumBelle treatment - separated by sleeping curse. It is nice, though, that it’s not RumBelle in sleeping curses or comas for once!

Do you trust me? - I love how they switched that line :) And farewell for a while to Aladdin and Jasmine. I have no doubt we’ll be seeing them again soon.

Belle believes Rumple - ha! In your face, Queenie! I love that she was wrong, I love that Rumple could simply tell Belle the truth and she WOULD believe him. That shows two things. The first is that Belle isn’t so far away from trusting and believing in Rumple as we’ve been led to believe, and the second is that nobody, and certainly not the queen, really understands the depth of the bond between RumBelle. It also shows that the queen, and everyone else, underestimates Belle and her love for Rumple.

What have we done to each other? - There, one line is all it takes to highlight that both of them have made mistakes and both are to blame. I know a lot of people have been saying the show is only blaming Rumple: that’s palpably not true. This season, especially, but previously as well, they have hurt each other. I do believe that everything stems from Rumple keeping secrets back at the end of season three, and not trusting her like he said he did, but Belle has caused her share of hurt too, especially this season. I do think there are mitigating circumstances for both of them, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t both been hurt by the other. I like Belle acknowledging this, and looking really sorry and heartbroken about it

We have to work together - yes! Yes, yes, please, please, please! Put those two big brains together and fix this. I am so here for a half season that has Belle and Rumple working on a mission together, even going on an adventure together. Give it to me!

Time runs differently there. Nothing makes sense. Anything is possible - that’s the show! Nothing makes sense and time does run differently and anything is possible! :) And, of course, in walks their adult son! Dun, dun, dun! Not convinced he’s evil, even though he is the one under the hood. I think the big bad is more likely the Black Fairy or Jafar. I also think, because Rumple says anything is possible, it’s possible that more than one Gideon exists at once. Maybe dream Gideon, adult Gideon, and baby Gideon all exist together at the same time, and RumBelle can get their baby son back in the end.

Wish world Robin - this is going to be interesting. I’m wondering if this is going to be a ‘what could have been’ scenario, like they’re giving pre-Evil Queen Regina the chance to walk into that tavern and meet Robin as he would have been back then, to sort of play out Page 23. That way, we could have Regina realise that she and her Robin met at the right time, that they fell in love because of their histories and because of the people they became, that it wouldn’t have worked out had they met back then. I think realising that would allow Regina to let Robin go, and allow her to accept back the Queen as part of herself, the part that makes her strong, determined, and understanding of other people’s darkness. We shall see. I’m happy to see Sean back anyway :)

[gray-autumn-sky]

Meant to Be Yours, Chapter 18

Henry starts his sessions with Archie. Meanwhile, Regina makes a very calculated move that she can only hope won’t backfire.

For @stick-to-the-lasagna-lady who sent me a bunch of quotes to include in this verse, and I actually managed to include them. :)

Previous chapters can be found HERE.

It’s nearly the end of January when Henry’s first appointment with Dr. Hopper is scheduled—and on a nearly daily basis, Henry has waffled back and forth about whether or not he wants to go. But each of his protests are met with a gentle but firm insistence from Regina—and each time she insists, she hopes she pushing him for the right reasons.

But over and over again, she tells herself that it isn’t about the curse or Emma Swan, it’s about Henry and helping him through the trauma that had been his early childhood.

His birthmother aside, his nightmares hadn’t stopped. More times than not, he awoke in the middle of the night with teary eyes, gasping for air as he tried to remember where he was and that he was safe with her. Sometimes he woke her up—quietly, he’d push open her door and peek inside her bedroom and his little voice would murmur a barely audible Are you still awake? On those nights she’d peel back her covers and cuddle him close, they’d reach extra chapters of whatever book they were in the middle of or they’d go down to the kitchen and talk it out over mugs of warm milk until his eyes were drooping and he was no longer afraid.

But there were other nights that he didn’t come to her—nights he’d lie alone in his darkened bedroom, nights when didn’t seek her comfort. On occasion, she’d awake in the middle of the night and go to check on him, finding him curled up and crying; and on those nights, though he was willing to accept her comfort, he wasn’t willing to talk about it.

In some ways, they were so similar—how they’d bottle up negative feelings, not wanting to share, not wanting to voice certain things and not wanting to admit to others. On the nights when she found him, alone and scared, she remembered how she’d sit up at night, listening to her mother rage—sometimes this was actually happening, but other times, more frequent times, she was reliving a memory or a something that happened in a dream which had only felt real—and each time, she felt so trapped. It didn’t matter that her nurse would come in and sit with her—that she’d comfort her in the ways she now tried to comfort Henry—there were things that just couldn’t be comforted or loved away. She’d been trained from a young age not to cause a scene, not to upset people and to diminish her own feelings—though it hadn’t been intentional, this was one of the lasting lessons her father had bestowed upon her—and she wondered if it wasn’t the same for Henry.

And she wondered how much of his childhood he kept from her—how much he refused to share, how much he kept tucked away in the recesses of his memory, for himself to endure. He knew how guilty she felt about giving him up and she told him enough how she’d truly believed it was what was best for him, that she couldn’t love him the way a child should be loved, that she couldn’t give him the childhood he deserved. Of course, she’d been wrong—something she acknowledged again and again—and she wondered, if somehow—conscious of it or not—he was trying to protect her.

This wasn’t about the curse or Emma Swan; it was about Henry.

It was always about Henry for her.

“Mom,” he asks, yawning and stretching out beside her on her bed. “Can I stay home?”

“From school?” She asks, rolling onto her side as her eyebrow arches and she stifles her urge to grin. “Why don’t you want to go to school?”

“I’m… not feeling well.”

Laughing, she slides down beside him, pressing one hand to his forehead—which was soft and cool—and pressing the other to his pajama-covered stomach. “You don’t seem sick.”

“But I am.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” he nods, his eyes moving to her hand as it slides from his stomach to his side—and immediately, he flinches and giggles as she starts to tickle him. “Mo-oom…”

“You are a terrible liar, Henry,” she laughs as he squirms beside her.

“So tell me, why don’t you want to go to school?” Her eyes narrow as her fingers walk from his side up to his chest and tap his chin. “The real reason.”

“I have a math test.”

“Ah…”

“And I’m worried about it.”

“We’ve been practicing. We studied for an hour last night.”

“I know,” Henry sighs. “And it makes sense when you and Robin do it with me, but then I see the problems on the test and I just… forget it all.”

“Oh…”

He sighs and turns his head on the pillow, and looks away. “And no matter how good I think I’m going to do, I always get it back and… find out that I did bad on it.”

“Some things are just tough…”

“Not for everyone else,” he tells her, turning his head back. “The last one, I got a C and….”

“And I was really proud of that C. You worked really hard.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs quietly. “But I was the only one who didn’t get an A.” He sighs. “My class did so well that Ms. Blanchard gave us candy.”

“Did you get a piece?”

“Yeah,” he tells her with a little nod. “But I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t earn it like everyone else did.” His eyes again fall away from hers. “Everyone knew it, too.”

“Henry,” she murmurs, reaching out and tipping his chin toward her. “You did earn it. You might not have gotten an A, but you did well on that test. Math is hard for you, and you got a lot of those problems right. You did your best.”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding a little. “I guess.” And then his jaw starts to tremble. “I just don’t understand why I always have to work so much harder than everyone else for things. It’s not just math…”

Her chest tightens and her arms fold around him, pulling him against her chest as tears spill down his cheeks—and more than anything, she wishes that there were more that she could do for him. She pulls him tighter, one hand clenching to his pajama top as the other cups his head; she murmurs soothing things and rocks him gently—and all the while, she feels a familiar rage bubbling up inside of her.

On most days, she’s able to control it. On most days, she’s able to push aside the past and contain her rage and anger, focusing on the things she has, focusing on the future and focusing on the things she can control. But every now and then, she finds herself unable to let go—unable not to let her anger permeate, unable not to cast blame where she feels it belongs, unable to stop herself from wanting someone to pay.

And she can feel that this is going to be one of those days.

Taking a breath, she pushes him back a little and kisses his forehead, letting her eyes linger on his as she brushes the tears from his cheeks.

“Well,” she begins, slowly exhaling her breath. “I can’t do much about the math test…”

“So I can’t stay home?”

“No,” she tells him, a small pang of regret striking at her core—a familiar feeling when she feels she’s disappointed him. “But, if you get dressed and cleaned up in the next fifteen minutes, we can go to Granny’s for breakfast before school.”

“Really?” He asks, perking up as his eyes widen. “Can I get waffles and whipped cream?”

“Sure,” she laughs as he rolls off the bed and bounds toward his bedroom.

She waits to hear the bedroom door open and close, and then, taking another breath, she gets out of bed. Running her fingers through her hair, she looks in the mirror—and for an all too brief moment, she sees her former self looking back at her. Shaking her head, she looks away from the mirror, opening the closet door as she reaches for a simple black dress and a gray blazer. Tossing the garments over her arm, she looks up at the top shelf of the closet—and instead of reaching for a pair of black Jimmy Choos, she reaches for the shoebox with Henry’s name on the top.

Dressing quickly, she puts on her makeup—and when a light knock comes onto her door, she calls Henry in, grinning as he pokes his head in. “You ready?” She asks, as she slips her feet into her shoes—and then reaches for her leather tote bag containing the box. Her heart flutters with nervousness as he nods and takes her head, leading her down the stairs.

They pulls on their coats and gloves—and ten minutes later, they’re nestled into a booth drinking orange juice and waiting for waffles. She reminds him that after school he has his first session—and though he scrunches his nose, he nods and asks if he’ll like Dr. Hopper. She tells him sincerely that she hopes he does and she hopes it’ll help him—and when their waffles arrive, she pushes away the thought of how disappointed Archie would be with her if he knew of her afternoon plans.

_____

“Mmm, we should do lunch more often,” Robin says as his lips fall to her bare shoulder. “This was so much better than an egg salad sandwich and choosing how to best arrange next month’s sale items.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m more enjoyable than egg salad,” she laughs.

“You’re more enjoyable than a lot of things…”

She hadn’t been able to concentrate. Budget reports and planning an agenda for the next town hall meeting hadn’t held her interest and every time she tried to focus, all she could think of were Henry’s tears and her inability to stop them. She’d pushed her keyboard away and opened her desk drawer, impulsively pulling out a stationary set and a favorite ink pen. Quickly, she scribbled a note, her jaw tightening as her the knot in her chest loosened with the satisfaction of doing something—a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long, long while. For a moment, she stared down at it—wondering if she wanted to do this, wondering if this was necessary, wondering if it would really help—but then, she thought again of Henry and the difficulty he had trusting in safety, in believing that good things could he permanent, and the way his eyes fell away from hers that morning as he tried to hide the conviction in them, as he tried to hide his steadfast belief that he was somehow undeserving.

Exhaling a breath, she reached for one of the envelopes, then for her tote. Pulling out the box, she rummaged through the papers until she found what she was looking for—and for a brief moment, she let her eyes linger over the name, letting herself ruminate on it and letting herself decide.

And she decided a little pay back—a little discomfort for years of neglect—was in order.

Regina picked the pen back up, carefully addressing the envelope before tucking the note inside and sealing it. Easily, she tucked the paper back into the box and then tucked the box back into her bag—and a smile stretched over her lips as she considered the feelings her carefully written words would evoke, and she felt a wave of satisfied relief.

She’d been on her way to mail the note when she walked past Robin’s store, and caught a glimpse of him in the window. He was standing there with his John and she couldn’t help but laugh as they attempted to hang an oar in the window. Robin’s face scrunched as John hoisted up the oar, rolling his eyes when Robin shook his head and motioned to the left. John sighed and nodded, dragging the oar over and hoisting it up again—and he let out an audible sigh as Robin motioned back to the direction he’d just come from.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, stepping inside and laughing as John smiled brighter than Robin. “You two look busy…”

“No, no,” John said reassuringly. “Just working on the window display… which… really is a one person job.”

“I beg to differ.”

“It’d be done if there weren’t two of us…”

“And it’d look terrible,” Robin sighed. “The point is to make the merchandise look appealing… not like… we hung an orr from a noose.”

“Perhaps our customers would like to think they’re freeing the merchandise from our torture,” John replied as Regina giggled. “Madam Mayor,” he said, looking to her. “Please tell me you’re here to take your boyfriend to lunch… preferably lunch that’s away from here.”

“I brought sandwiches,” Robin said, looking back at him. “Egg salad.”

“Oh great… I can be annoyed and disgusted,” John sighed as he turned back to the window. “Perfect…”

“Well, I was actually just going to mail something, but… now that he mentions it, it is time for lunch.” A smile stretched over her lips and a few minutes later, they were walking toward Granny’s; but before even stepping inside, they could see that it was crowded and that there was a wait, and Robin had turned to her and grinned, and asked if she wanted to go somewhere a little more private.

They’d ended up at Robin’s and almost as soon as they arrived, his lips found hers and instead of eating lunch, they were falling into bed together…

“I could stay here all day,” he murmurs as his lips slide from her shoulder and then to her neck. “All day…”

“That’d be nice…” she sighs, letting her head fall back as his tongue flicks at her earlobe. “If only…”

“Why if only?” He asks, a low chuckle behind his words. “We could stay here for at least a few more hours.”

“No…”

“Give me one good reason.”

“Our sons have to be picked up from school.”

Pulling up his head, he laughs. “I asked for one. That’s technically two.” He pauses and a grin tugs onto his lips. “And they could take the bus back here and we could…”

“Whatever you’re about to say, I’d love to,” she says, sighing as she pulls herself up. “But I can’t. Not today.”

Robin blinks. “Oh, that’s right…”

“Henry’s appointment with Dr. Hopper is right after school.”

“I forgot,” Robin says, sitting up and pecking her cheek. “Another time though.” He laughs as she nods, and his arm hooks around her waist. “But we do have a couple more hours before school gets out.”

Her eyes roll and though she shakes her head, ready to protest. But her lips brush over his as her fingers slide up over his stubbly cheek, and she finds it so difficult to say no. “Not today,” she murmurs, pulling back a little. “But another day. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he tells her, leaning in and capturing his lips between hers, sucking gently before pulling away as his stomach rumbles. “Can you at least stay for an actual lunch?”

“I think so,” she murmurs, watching as he gets out of bed and pulls on his pants.

A grin tugs onto her lips as she watches him—watching the way he moves and the way he bends, appreciating and getting lost in her view. He laughs as he picks up her dress from the floor, holding it out to her as she reaches for her bra at the foot of the bed. “I have left over shrimp scampi,” he tells her. “I’ll go heat it up while you get dressed,” he says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

Her heart flutters as she watches him go and reluctantly, she slips from the warm bed. She dresses quickly and tussles her hair, her head swimming with thoughts of Robin and the way he makes her feel, of Henry and his pending appointment, of Henry’s tears and the stamped note in her bag that’s waiting to be sent; she thinks of Roland and the curse and she thinks about the story book that’s tucked into the top drawer of her desk and how Henry will react to it when he inevitably finds it. She’s barely aware of Robin opening the bedroom door, murmuring that lunch is ready as he comes up behind her and kisses up and down the nape of her neck, slowly drawing up the zipper on her dress as her hand seeks his.

Together they go into the kitchen where two plates of scampi and re-warmed rolls await them—and she can’t help but laugh at the little candle between the plates.

“You’re adorable,” she says as he pulls out her chair. “You realize that, right?”  He laughs and shakes his head, then kisses her cheek as he sits down across from her. “I am also impressed that you got Roland to eat shrimp.”

“Well, you’ll notice there’s a lot of leftovers,” Robin tells her. “And… he enjoyed the pasta… more so than the shrimp.”

“Ah, of course.”

“My picky little eater,” Robin muses as he dips his fork into the pasta. “So, has Henry warmed up to the idea of seeing Archie this afternoon?”

“Well, he didn’t try to get out of it this morning…”

“That’s good. Maybe it’s a step in the right direction.”

“Or, he just… had other things he wanted to get out of,” she tells him with a sigh, recapping the conversation she and Henry had that morning about his math class. “Really, I think he just feels like having to see Archie is one more thing that makes him different than other kids. None of his friends see a therapist…”

“It’s understandable that this is hard on him.”

“I know,” she sighs as she pulls a piece of shrimp from her fork. “I just… hope that he’s open to it and that he’s not just going through the motions because I told him to.” She shrugs and twirls her for through the pasta.  “Sessions with Archie won’t help if he doesn’t want them to.”

Robin hesitates for a moment. “You’re… speaking from experience.”

“That surprises you?” She asks, arching an eyebrow in his direction. “It surprises you that someone like me would go to therapy?”

“Well,” he murmurs, obviously considering and obviously trying to choose his words carefully. “You’re… very private. You don’t open up easily. So, yes… a little bit.”

“I… sort of thought you’d point out my… more psychotic tendencies.” He offers a tight smile and she sighs. “But, I just… I reached a point where I had to do something.” She glances up to find his blue eyes soft and attentive, willing her to continue. “I, um… I guess I just… needed someone to talk to. I didn’t… want to get lost in my own head again.”

“That’s understandable,” he says. “And Regina, I didn’t mean to imply that…”

“That there’s something wrong with me?”

“Certainly not,” he’s quick to say. “Or that there’s something wrong with you seeking help.”

“I didn’t take it that way.”

“Good…”

Suddenly, her chest feels heavy and she can’t help but lose herself for a moment in the memory of that day she went to Archie’s office to make an appointment. She’d paced on the sidewalk for the better part of an hour, and still, after making the appointment, she’d cancelled twice before finally paying him a visit.

At the time, she hadn’t been completely sure of why she’d made the appointment—she still hadn’t been in a place to accept her crimes for what they were and she was still in the habit of making excuses; yet, the curse wasn’t at all what she expected and she was even lonelier than she’d ever been. Her fresh started quickly went awry as she fell easily into the old habits she swore she’d leave behind—and somehow, her sins in this world carried a greater weight.

“When I… um… cast the curse, I told myself that it was going to be a fresh start for me,” she tells him, somewhat abruptly as she focuses down on her pasta. “Yes, I wanted to punish people but I also wanted to prove myself. For so long I was told that I was evil and that I could never do anything good, and…” she sighs, “I realize how crazy this sounds, but part of my victory was that I’d finally be able to prove everyone wrong.”

“That’s not crazy.”

“Well, I hadn’t been here a week before I… murdered someone,” she admits sheepishly as she looks to Robin, waiting for him to react. “This man and his son were camping in the woods when the curse hit and…”

“Kurt,” he murmurs as his brow creases. “And his son, Owen.” Swallowing hard, she feels her mouth go dry at the sound of their names.  A knot forms in her stomach and she drops her fork, suddenly losing the feeling in her hands as her body numbs and Robin’s eyes darken. “I… remember them. They came into my store. They were… looking for an auto body shop and the boy played with Roland. They talked about Star Wars and… he showed Roland the lanyard he was making. You…” His voice suddenly halts, and he can’t finish the sentence as his eyes widening with recognition.

Looking down, her eyes sink closed. “I was wondering when this would happen.”

“Wh-what?”

“I was wondering when I’d finally reveal something that you couldn’t for…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Robin cuts in, his voice rising over hers, “What are you talking about?”

“That look in your eye, that tone in your voice,” she murmurs, blinking back her tears. “I knew eventually it would…”

“No,” he’s quick to say. “Regina, I think you forget that I lived through your reign. I kept out of the way and I kept a low profile, but just like everyone else, I was well-aware of the body count.” He sighs as he reaches for her hand, and she barely feels his fingers slide up over hers. “I know who you are and I’m not afraid of you. I know what lies in your past and…” He sighs. “I still love you.” A low and somewhat uncomfortable laugh rises into his voice as she looks up. “I don’t like a lot of the things you’ve done, but I’ve accepted that my girlfriend has a murderous streak and…”

“How?” She asks, her voice shaky but sincere. “How can you just… disregard that?”

“Because that’s not who you are anymore,” he says easily. “I don’t have to love the things you’ve done to love you.”

“That seems… dangerous,” she says, taking a breath as she thinks of the note in her bag. “You’re taking my word that I’ve changed. How do you know that… I won’t just… go back?”

“Well, I… guess I can’t know,” he tells her. “But I love you and I trust you, and… over the years, I’ve watched how you’ve changed. And I don’t believe for a second you’d do anything that would lead to Henry getting hurt.” He pauses, giving her hand a quick and reassuring little squeeze. “I remember when you first brought Henry to Storybrooke. I remember how you looked at him and,” a soft grin pulls onto his lips, “The way you used to rub his foot to comfort him and… I remember how sad you were when you let him go.”

“How could you… know those things?”

“Like I said, I spent years working up the courage to talk to you and… I spent a lot of time… looking for an opportunity.” A small grin tugs up from the corner of her mouth. “And I know better than most how guilty you feel for what happened to him after you let him go, how much you love him now and…” He shrugs and again gives her hand a little squeeze. “I trust that you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. You’d never let anything hurt him.”

“That’s a lot of blind trust…”

“I disagree that it’s blind.”

“I… don’t think I’ll ever understand why you love me,” she says as a smile draws onto her lips. “But I’m glad that you do.”

“And you know that there’s nothing you could do or say to change that, nothing lying in your past that could change it.”

“You seem awfully sure of that.”

“I am,” he says with a confident nod. “When you love someone, you don’t just stop.”

“Ever?” She asks, her grin once again tugging up onto her lips, “Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy?”

“Even then,” he says with a soft laugh.

Her eyebrow arches, “Even when I’m the one rolling my eyes and calling you crazy?”

Laughing out, he leans over and drops a feathery kiss over her cheek. “Especially then,” he says pulling back and winking, “Most especially then.”

Sighing, she nods, reaching up and drawing him back to her. “I love you,” she murmurs into a kiss. “I… don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You won’t have to find out.”

“Good,” she says, sucking gently at his lips and willing herself to forget about the note in her bag and enjoy the moment. His tongue slips between her lips and she smiles into the kiss. She hadn’t meant to confess what she did or for their conversation to take the turn it had—really, she’d only meant to tell him that it was her sessions with Archie that helped her to decide that she wanted to adopt a child, that it had been her sessions with Archie that propelled her to New York, that it’d been those sessions that taught her how to love—but she was glad for the turn it had taken, glad for his understanding and his empathy and his steadfast but undeserved faith in her.

And she could only hope that she wouldn’t disappoint him and prove herself unworthy.

_____

Henry clutches her hand tightly as she leads him into Dr. Hopper’s office. She can feel his little fingers pressing into her skin and tightening with each step they take; nonetheless, he follows her lead and he doesn’t protest. She signs in his name with his secretary, then they settle on two chairs in the empty waiting room—and still, he clutches her hand.

“How’d that math test go,” she asks, in an attempt to break the silence, hoping to distract him for a couple of minutes.

“I… don’t know,” he says, looking up at her. “I answered all of them, but…” He shrugs. “I never know.”

“Did you check your work like we showed you?”

“It’s just… harder without the blocks that Robin uses,” he tells her, sighing a little as he looks up at her. “Mom? Can I… ask you something?”

“Of course you can.”

“Do you think… I’m… crazy?”

“What?”

“Because of my nightmares? Because they… won’t stop.”

“Henry, no,” she says, her heart aching as her eyes meet his. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“I went to a therapist once before,” he says, looking down at his lap. “In New York. And the… the school psychologist used to call me in and talk to me sometimes.” He pauses and she watches him take a breath, watching as his little shoulders rise and fall. “They… they didn’t believe me.”

“What… didn’t they believe?” She asks in a careful voice, her jaw tightening at the thought of Henry literally crying for help, desperate to get out of a terrible situation and being ignored and cast aside again and again.

“Things that I said happened,” he murmurs quietly. “Nightmares that felt real… almost too real.” Again her jaw tightens, but her thumb rubs gently at his palm. “I think they always thought I was making stuff up.”

“This won’t be like that,” she says, wishing more than anything he’d open up and tell her more, that he didn’t keep things bottled up or make vague mentions of things, that he wasn’t so concerned with everyone else’s feelings, that wasn’t concerned with hers. “I promise.”

“How can you know for sure?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“No,” he murmurs quietly as a little grin pulls into his lips. “You haven’t.”

“Then why would I start now?”

He nods as his grin stretches wider. “Mom, can we make a big dinner tonight?”

“A big dinner?” She asks, smiling as he nods. “Even though it’ll just be the two of us?”

“Yeah, I… just… that’s always fun,” he says, giving her a bashful look. “I really like cooking with you.”

Leaning in, she presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I love that you like cooking with me,” she tells him. “We can make whatever you want for dinner.” Pulling back, she gives his hand a little squeeze. “Anything specific you have in mind?”

She watches as he considers and she can’t help but smile when his eyes light up. “You know that kind of chicken that has ham and cheese stuffed inside of it and covered with bread crumbs?”

“Seriously?” Regina blinks. “You want… chicken cordon bleu?”

“Is that chicken with ham and cheese stuffed inside of it and covered with bread crumbs?”

“It is,” she says with a little laugh. “Are you sure you’re really eight and not sixty-eight?”

Henry giggles. “We should make mashed potatoes, too. And those syrupy carrots you make and for desert…” Regina laughs out and again presses another kiss to the top of his head. “…we could make apple pie with vanilla ice cream.”

“Well,” she beings as she pulls back to look at him. “We don’t have carrots or ice cream, but I could always swing by the grocery store and pick those things up while you’re with Dr. Hopper.”

Henry grins. “Then we could get started as soon as we get home.”

“We could.”

“And can we… not make it all about fractions and adding measurements today?”

“Deal,” she nods as Archie’s door opens. “But don’t think we won’t be back to practicing fractions tomorrow.”

Henry nods and sighs, as he looks to Archie who smiles warmly. “You must be Henry,” Archie says, extending his hand to Henry. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve known your mom for a long time.”

“You have?” Archie nods and Regina squeezes his hand, and slowly, he lets go of her to shake the doctor’s hand. “I thought you just saw him a couple of times.”

“I did,” Regina answers, giving him a quick wink. “A couple… hundred or so times.”

Henry giggles. “We really have to practice your wink.”

“Among other things,” Regina tells him as he slides from the chair.

She watches him follow Archie into his office and she feels something stirring inside of her. Though she knows that this is something between Henry and Archie, she hates not knowing and she hates that something regarding her son is out of her control.  Letting out a shaky breath, she stands and looks to the woman behind the front desk. Hesitating for a moment, she tells her she has a couple of errands to run and that she’ll be back before the end of her son’s appointment. The secretary nods and she feels a tightening at her core as she walks out of the office.

As she collects the necessary groceries for Henry’s dinner menu, she wanders through the store, unable to stop thinking about what he said in the waiting room. It breaks her heart and makes her blood boil that he spent his earliest years enduring so much trauma; and that when he asked for help, in the only way he knew how, he’d gone to the right people, but all of those people had ignored him.

The guilt she feels is overwhelming and as she makes her way to the checkout, she can’t help but remind herself that it didn’t have to be this way. Had she kept him, he would have grown up in loving home and he’d have wanted for nothing. Pressing her eyes closed she takes a breath, remembering how she’d cried for days and days after giving him up, how she’d known in her heart it’d been the wrong decision, and how she hadn’t trusted herself enough to believe that.

When her groceries are bagged she reaches into her bag in search of her wallet and when she does, her fingers touch to note she’d written out that morning. Slowly, she draws it out of her bag, looking at the name on the front and the address beneath it—and again, she feels that familiar rage bubbling within herself. Quickly, she pays and grabs her bag, all the while caught up in Henry’s tears and his nightmares and the unwavering belief he’d grown up with—the belief that everything he’d endured was his fault and deserved. Smiling curtly at the cashier, she walks back toward Archie’s office—and this time, she drops the note into the mail.

_____

Regina can’t help but smile as Henry kneels on a stool at the counter, hammering pieces of chicken.

He hasn’t told her much about his session with Archie, only that it was okay and better than expected. But he didn’t protest when she’d scheduled an appointment for the following week and he chattered on and on about the dinner they’d be making, double checking that they had enough syrup for the carrots and that she bought ice cream for the pie and giggle when she’d replied that of course they had apples at home to make the pie.

She took the pieces of chicken as he flattened them and layered in slices of ham and cheese, then passed them back to him to roll. He giggled as he stuck tooth picks into them, and then he lined them up on a tray as she mashed the potatoes. Carefully, he followed her instructions as he made pie crust—and it was well-past seven when they slid the pie into the oven and sat down at the table with their meal.

Henry quickly launched into a story about school—leaving out any details about his math test—and explaining that that they’d learned about mosaics and would be making one the following afternoon. She grinned as he told that he wanted his mosaic to be of a fish—and when she asked him why, he giggled and said he didn’t know; then, he continued on, recapping recess and story time, and telling her about his new tablemates.

Once dinner was done, they cleared away their plates and packed all of the leftovers into containers. Henry made his own lunch—a sampling of everything they’d had for dinner—and then, turned his attention to the oven. As she put away the leftovers, a smile stretched over her lips as he reached up and turned on the oven light, watching as the pie finished baking.

“Do you have room for that?” She asks, coming up behind him and pulling him back against her legs. “You ate quite a bit at dinner.”

“I always have room for pie,” he replies, blinking up at her as if she’d asked something that was completely ridiculous. “And ice cream.”

Sighing, she shakes her head. “What was I thinking?” She feels Henry watching as she moves to the cabinet, pulling out two small plates before reaching for forks. When the oven timer buzzes, Henry’s practically bouncing and he hands her her oven mitts and watches as slowly withdraws the pie. “So, do we let it cool or…”

“Why would we do that?”

“I don’t know,” she laughs, as Henry pulls open the freezer and leans up onto his toes to grab the ice cream. “I’m full of all sorts of silly questions today, I guess.”

“You really are,” he nods as he climbs up onto the stool beside her and pulls off the top of the ice cream container. “Mom,” he murmurs, looking up at her with wide eyes as she cuts into the pie. “Dr. Hopper told me that there’s something I should tell you.”

“Oh?” She murmurs as a knot suddenly forms in her stomach. “What’s that?”

Henry takes a breath. “That I didn’t know what it was like to be happy until I met you.” He offers her a sheepish grin as he fumbles with his hands. “He asked me what makes me happy and I said you.” Her chest clenched and she could feel warm tears brimming in her eyes as a smile stretched across her face. “He… said it would mean a lot of you know that.”

“It does,” she manages to say, taking a breath and blinking back her tears—and cutting him a even larger piece of pie.

For the rest of the night, they cuddle up on the couch together, eating their pie and ice cream, and nearly finishing The Prisoner of Azkaban. Henry falls asleep on her lap, his cheek pressed her shoulder and she’s perfectly content to hold him and stroke his head, and listening to his rhythmic breathing as she sleeps. Regretfully, she wakes him up for a quick shower, then she helps him into his pajamas and tucks him into bed. He falls asleep easily and she hovers, sitting at the edge of his bed caught up in how much she loves the little boy in front of her—and in the back of her mind, wondering how it was possible that anyone could not love such a sweet and beautiful child.

Finally, she gets up, turning off his Thor lamp and flicking on his Captain American nightlight, and murmuring one final goodnight before going down the hall to her own bedroom. She showers quickly the dries her hair before changing into her pajamas. She considers her options for the remainder of the evening—the work she didn’t accomplish that day at her office or reading more about the curse she desperately needed to break.

She chose the latter, padding down the hall to her office and pulling a scroll from her desk. Blinking down at it, she felt a mix of emotion, remember how she’d yearned for it, how she’d practically lusted after it, the way she’d believed so surely that it was the answer she’d been searching for. Off and on for weeks, she’d been painstakingly been translating the scroll, hoping that in some detail in the instructions for casting the curse would be a hint of what was needed to break it—or what would happen when it did. She knew that it was working—it had been the scroll that made her wonder if the Savior was really needed and it was the scroll that made her realize that getting the Savior’s son to believe in something magical was the first step in toward her ultimate goal. But since then, her progress seemed to have stalled; and every time the clock on Main Street ticked, she was reminded that was running out of time.

She flinched as her cell phone buzzed on her desk, suddenly jarred back into the present moment.

A grin stretched over her lips as Robin’s name flashed across the screen.

“Hey,” she said, swiping her finger across the screen. “I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight.”

“I know, and I know you wanted tonight with Henry,” he murmured easily. “But I just finished tucking Roland in and reading him a story, and I realized that likely meant that you’d just finished tucking Henry in and reading him a story, so… I figured I might not be intruding.”

“You’re not,” she confirms, leaning back her chair. “I’m glad you called.”

“How did things go today?” He asks, in a tentative voice. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Fine,” she murmurs back. “Henry didn’t say much, but he seemed to like Archie and was… very excited about making dinner with me.” She laughs a little. “He requested chicken cordon bleu.”

Robin sighs and chuckles softly. “Why is it that your child requests food like that and mine requests dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets and fries… then scowls when I make sweet potato fries and will only eat them if they’d covered in cheese?”

“I have plenty of leftover food,” she tells him. “I could… bring you lunch tomorrow.”

“Lunch as in actual lunch or lunch as in lunch,” he asks, his voice dropping an octave on the word and she can practically see his eyebrows shrugging suggestively. “Because I wouldn’t say no to either of them, but both would be especially nice.”

“Actual lunch,” she says, a smile stretching over her lips. “Thanks to you I have a ton of work to do.” For a moment, she pauses, letting her thoughts drift back to that afternoon. “Hey, did that oar ever get hung up?”

Robin sighs and long groan escapes him. “Don’t even get me started,” he tells her, as she laughs again.