Work Text:
Why a fuck-ugly tentacled sea monster took such an intense personal dislike to the shaved ice stand that evening, Emma couldn’t imagine. It was probably just another one of those weird things that came with living in a curse-created town full of fairytale characters.
Another thing she couldn’t fathom was why Regina Mills was so determined to save the rickety little hut, or why she didn’t bother to wait for the backup she called Emma for before rushing to the pier.
Raw fury radiated from the former Queen’s petite frame as she alone faced the gibbering twenty-foot-tall monster, sneering up at sixteen eyestalks and at least a dozen waving tentacles each as thick as an elephant’s trunk and seven times longer. Oddly-shaped multi-fanged mouths screamed in discordant, wavering tones as the creature's tentacles waved across the starlit sky. One grasped a nearby lamppost, ripped it from the pier and tossed it, and the shaved ice shack lost its remaining bit of roof.
“Regina, get back!” Emma shouted uselessly as she charged down the dark pier. Even if Regina had wanted to hear her, she probably couldn’t, given that the thing had even more mouths than eyestalks, each of which seemed busy criticizing shaved ice in some weird, bubbling undersea language. The shaved ice hut was a battered mess, the sign for the stand lay in pieces on the ground, and the menu board was impaled on a street light overhead. The good news was that the monster hadn't yet attempted to move away from the water's edge.
“This is MY town and you need to GET! OUT!” Regina bellowed, fire in her eyes and hands. The mayor moved like she was doing tai chi with swirling flames, blasting tentacles away as she drew and tossed fire with graceful rolls of her wrists. She looked magnificent in the light of the full moon, with the sea breeze whipping her hair and long coattails dramatically behind her, a vision of beauty and grace and power incarnate.
Unfortunately, while Emma was damn impressed with the sight of Regina Mills facing down the gigantic monster, the tentacled thing was not. Three different mouths burst into three different horrible wails, discordant and alien. Regina covered her ears, wincing, and barely ducked in time as two tentacles swatted at her head and thrashed near her. Still hunched low, she uncovered her ears to hurl two fireballs, one from each hand, into the base of one swinging tentacle while gracefully sidestepping the other. An awful stench like burning swamp mud filled the air as three more tentacles swung at Regina.
Emma fired her pistol into the largest collection of eyestalks, but the thing didn’t even blink one eye. “Fine. Be that way,” she growled as she emptied the rest of the clip into the creature. Two wiggling eyestalks exploded with sickening green goo. Emma holstered her empty gun and pulled out her backup weapon.
And because law enforcement in Storybrooke was the most insane job in the world, her backup weapon was her father’s old sword. Emma sighed and shook her head as she stepped forward. “Yeah, everyone facing nightmare creatures with forty-foot tentacles wants to fight them with a three-foot pointy stick. They do not pay me enough for this job.”
Two more tentacles swung at Regina, and she jumped back just in time as they slammed the ground where she’d stood a second ago. “Oh, you’ll have to try harder than that,” she sneered.
“Do you have to antagonize it, Regina?” Emma yelled as she swung her sword at the closest tentacle, nicking the side of it. It oozed pus-colored slime as it thrashed, lashing Emma's forearm and deflecting her sword sideways. Emma skittered back and swallowed; fuck, this thing was strong – it'd barely grazed her and yet she’d struggled to keep hold of the sword.
“Yes I do!” Regina spat as she tossed a fireball into an open mouth. The thing swallowed visibly, scrunched up five eyes, and coughed smoke out of three other mouths. A blackened tongue dangled out of the fireballed mouth. “I’m drawing its attention so it doesn’t go after the town!”
A tentacle snaked towards the shaved ice stand again, and Regina blasted it, then barely had time to duck a swing from another tentacle. Emma grimaced. That plan only worked as long as Regina stayed alive, and one small mistake here could cost Regina her life. “I dunno, Regina. It seems pretty focused on that old shack. Can’t we just back off, let it have the shack, and see if it goes away after that?”
Regina glanced at Emma, purple fire glistening in her eyes. “NO. This is MY town, and no pile of spineless nightmare goo gets to wreck any part of it!”
“God, Regina,” Emma groaned. She stepped forward and swung hard, chopping off the last eight feet of a tentacle. The amputated tentacle jerked and twitched, flailing wildly, and Emma leapt out of the way as the convulsing tentacle lashed where she’d been standing.
In the meantime, Regina had tossed fireballs into two more mouths, causing two eyestalks to erupt in flames, and did so while looking beautiful and fierce at the same time. Emma puffed a stray strand of hair out of her face and sighed in frustration as she tried to dance past the amputated tentacle, tripping as it thrashed into her feet.
She staggered and recovered, then stepped forward again, swinging at another tentacle. She missed, and two tentacles swung back. She jumped sideways, barely missing the still-convulsing tentacle on the ground.
Swallowing down her sense of inadequacy, Emma watched the snarling queen spin magic into a glowing purple lance. Regina pulled her arm back, spat a series of magical words, and hurled the lance into the largest mouth. Eyes blazing, she shouted, "Take that, you slime-filled ball of rancid pus!"
Purple flames shot out of five of the sixteen eyestalks, and streams of goo ran down the monster's sides. Every mouth on the creature wailed, and six tentacles raised skywards as if in surrender. The noise was horrific and deafening. Emma covered one ear with a hand and raised the shoulder of her sword hand to cover the other, hoping the thing had had enough and would just leave.
Regina wasn't waiting to find out. Her hands crackled with purple lighting as she began to form another lance. Six tentacles swept down directly towards her. Emma yelled and charged, swinging at one tentacle as it swung towards Regina.
She connected and the tentacle flinched, spurting smelly goo as it retracted. Regina threw magic up and out, and purple shields appeared in the air, blocking four of the tentacles with loud clangs.
The one remaining tentacle snaked along the ground and wrapped around Regina's ankle several times. Emma swung at it, but it jerked back, yanking Regina off her feet. Her head hit the concrete with a nasty thump, and her body went limp.
Something vital inside Emma twisted sharply. "No! Regina!"
The monster lifted the unconscious Regina into the air by one ankle, waving her around. The monster's skin shifted and rippled. Several of the mouths moved together, sliding along the monster's skin to merge into a giant, slime-dripping maw. Emma couldn't help it - she screamed in horror. "What the fuuuuuuck!"
The huge tentacle holding Regina bent towards the gaping mouth. Screaming incoherently, Emma slashed wildly at the closest tentacles, trying to get in sword range of the body of the creature. The monster banged Regina's helpless body against the outside of the large mouth repeatedly and the mouth shifted shape, apparently trying to figure out how to fit Regina in.
After several tries, the thing seemed to give up. Other tentacles grabbed at Regina's wrists and other leg and began to pull her body in different directions. One of her shoulders gave a sickening pop. Regina was about to be pulled apart.
Emma screamed again and dropped the sword, tense panic racing through her body like a flaming fuse. "Fuck you! Fuck you! FUUUUUUUCK YOOOUUU!!!!!" She aimed her palms towards the monster and channeled her magic into one huge blast. All of her magical power, every bit of hope and love and joy and compassion and a whole lot of panic for Regina, every bit of magic Emma possessed in her soul erupted out of her hands and shot towards the monster.
A blinding white surge of energy lit the entire port, a crack and a deafening thunder-like boom rolled across the town, and the monster screamed from every mouth.
Emma fell to her knees, drained. She coughed, tasting blood, and stared at the three-foot gaping hole she'd blasted completely through the creature. Weirdly, if she looked past the dripping lines of viscous fluid streaming down into the open wound, she could see the lights on the far side of the bay and the shapes of two docked ships through the hole.
Such a horrific injury would have killed anything else.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to kill monsters that hate shaved ice stands, but it did make it drop Regina, who fell limply to the ground. The creature raised every tentacle and waved them at the stars, still emitting deafening wails. It wrapped four tentacles around the shaved ice stand, lifted it thirty feet into the air, and squeezed. Rubble fell to the ground.
With at least ten horribly discordant wails from ten different mouths, the monster slid back into the sea. Gurgling bubbles and a line of sickly foam traced the monster's retreat into the deep.
The former queen lay in an undignified heap on the concrete pier, terrifyingly motionless. Emma swallowed bile and rushed over, yanking off her jacket as she ran. “Regina! Regina, don’t be dead, don’t be dead, please don’t be dead!”
Emma skidded to a stop beside her and knelt, her heart pounding. One of Regina’s shoulders was painfully odd-shaped and her eyes were closed. “Fuck, Regina, you stubborn asshole. You damn well better be alive.” She dashed away sweat or some other liquid running down one cheek and reached for Regina’s neck to check her pulse. “Come on, Regina, wake up. No one dies today - the mayor outlawed it. Wake up.” Regina’s pulse fluttered faintly under her fingertips, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief and draped her jacket over Regina's torso to prevent shock.
Regina stirred minutely, so Emma leaned closer and murmured, “Wake up or I’ll paint Town Hall fluorescent pink.” Regina’s eyes fluttered, then closed again, so Emma continued, “And my mother will cover the interior walls with Spongebob murals.”
Regina dragged one eye half-open, mumbling, “Do that and I’ll haunt you forever.” She blinked and both eyes focused on Emma. “You’ll never eat an unburned grilled cheese sandwich again.”
Emma smiled. “Welcome back, Your Majesty.” Regina grimaced and started to shift, trying to sit up, and Emma placed a hand on her uninjured shoulder to stop her. “Don’t try to move. You're hurt.”
Regina scanned blearily around. "Is it gone?"
Emma nodded, speaking gently but urgently. "Yeah, it's gone. Is anything broken? Where do you hurt?"
"Everywhere.” Regina groaned. “Did we save the stand?"
Emma shook her head. "No, it smashed it to pieces before it left."
Regina glared at her in outrage. "Why didn't you stop it?"
Emma snapped, "Because, Regina, I was too busy stopping it from pulling you in half! You were about to die! Fuck the shaved ice stand. We're both alive, it's gone, and that's all that matters." She pulled out her phone. "You probably have a concussion so I’m calling the ambulance. We need to get you to the ER.”
"No," Regina groaned. "I'm not going to the hospital."
"Oh yes, you are," Emma growled. "Fuck this shit. Fuck all this shit."
Summoning up the tiny bit of magic she had remaining, Emma teleported them both. As they landed, darkness swam in and her head spun with exhaustion. The last sensations she was aware of were sterile white walls and the lingering disinfectant smell of Storybrooke General's emergency room.
Hours later, Emma sat on the edge of a gurney, phone to her ear, and rolled her eyes. "Mom, I'm fine–"
"Your father will be there in ten minutes, and I can follow with Henry in fifteen."
"NO, Mom. I'm not injured at all, just a bit tired."
"It's no trouble, honey – we just want to make sure you're okay."
Emma ran a hand through her hair and groaned, "Please, don't disrupt Henry's bedtime–"
"Emma, how do you expect us to sleep not knowing if you're okay?"
Emma gawked at the phone. This was absurd. "I'm an adult, Mom. You need to trust my judgment! I know whether or not I'm okay, and I'm not injured, just tired. Please listen–"
"And we, um, we care about Regina, too. Just because our relationship is a bit awkward at times doesn't mean she's not, well," Snow drew in a deep breath, "Regina is family. And we need to not forget that, Emma!"
The self-righteous tone in Snow's voice was too much, and Emma burst out, "God, Snow, will you PLEASE LISTEN TO ME?” She gritted her teeth; if she sounded too upset, Snow would ignore her and come running. Emma reined in her temper, forcing herself to sound calm and steady. “I'm not injured, just a bit tired. And Regina's sprained ankle and dislocated shoulder are going to take time to heal, but they've put the shoulder back in place and bandaged the ankle, and she'll be fine. She just needs to rest to take care of the concussion, give her body time to heal. I’m fine, she’s going to be fine, and we don’t help."
"Emma, are you sure you don't need backup dealing with her?"
First it's Regina is family, and now Emma needs backup just to sit in a room with a grouchy mayor. Emma sighed. She was too tired to deal with her mother in overprotective mode at the same time she was dealing with an injured Regina being, well, Regina. "No, absolutely no backup needed, no help needed, I'm fine. Thanks for taking care of Henry. Goodnight, Mom." She hung up, stuck her tongue out at the phone in a moment of childish irritation, then turned back to the argument still going on between Whale and Regina.
"No," Regina stated firmly. "If it's just for observation, then you don't actually have a reason to keep me and I'm going home."
Whale scowled. "We need to keep an eye on your concussion, Madame Mayor," he snapped.
Regina crossed her arms. "I'll keep an eye on it myself at home."
Whale drew in a long breath, visibly frustrated. "If a problem arises, you won't necessarily be able to keep an eye on it yourself. You may be unconscious or incapable of good judgment."
"My judgment at its worst is better than anyone else in this town's best judgment," Regina stated flatly.
Emma snorted and choked back a laugh.
"What?" Regina glared.
Emma held up her hands in defense. "You're really smart, Regina, but occasionally you do get a bit... impulsive."
Regina's voice rose. "I do not."
After the conversation with her mother, Emma's tolerance was gone and apparently so was her filter. Instead of backing off as she knew she should, the next words out of her mouth were, "Oh come on, Regina. Your temper is legendary."
"My temper has nothing to do with my judgment," Regina bristled.
Emma spread her hands wide. "That's kind of my point, actually. It’s one or the other with you."
Regina snarled, "Well, you're about to find out what–"
"I hate to interrupt the latest episode of absurd Mills-Charming drama," Whale interrupted. "But peace, ladies, please; this is a hospital. No more fights here tonight at least, please?" He scribbled on a clipboard. "Against medical advice, patient is hereby released into the care of the town sheriff."
"Wait, into the care of HER?" Regina sputtered.
He whipped the paper off his clipboard and handed it to Emma. "She's your problem now, Sheriff. Have a good night!" He wiggled his fingers in a farewell wave and ducked out of the room.
There was a long moment of awkward silence, then Emma shook her head at the door. "You know, tonight Whale was an unimpressive human even for the low standards I normally hold him to. He could not keep his eyes off our boobs. Such a creep."
"I have to agree with you on that," Regina grumbled as she eased to the side of her bed, apparently accepting Emma's attempt to move past the previous conversation. "You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to recruit decent physicians for hospitals in towns that don’t exist. Believe it or not, there actually are worse physicians than him out there, and I won't have them in my town." She lowered her right leg to the floor and hissed in pain.
Emma stepped near Regina as she stood, ready to support her. “Regina, you can barely walk, you can't lift your right arm, and you have a concussion. You can’t go home like this. Why don’t you let them admit you?”
Regina rose, her jaw tight with pain. “I am not letting Victor Whale touch me one time more than absolutely necessary, thank you very much.”
Emma edged closer to Regina’s side, giving Regina room to move while placing herself in a better position to catch if necessary. “Okay, valid. How are you going to get home? If you had the energy left to poof yourself, you’d be gone by now.”
"I can walk home," Regina said, trying to take a step and nearly falling. Emma caught her with one arm, and Regina shoved away ungracefully to sit back on the side of the bed.
"I don't think you're walking anywhere, Regina, not on that ankle," Emma stated. "And if you do manage to somehow get out the door and make it home, you'll have set back your recovery for days."
Regina snarled half-heartedly, “I’ll bribe or threaten someone into giving me a ride.”
Emma raised her eyebrows, and Regina huffed in exasperation. “Fine. Sheriff Swan, would you mind giving me a lift back to my house?”
Emma crossed her arms and smiled. “What’s my bribe?”
Regina sighed, grumbling, “There’s leftover chicken parmesan in the refrigerator.”
“Sweet. I’ll get a wheelchair.”
Emma loaded Regina into her cruiser, pocketing the bottle of pain meds the nurse handed to her and carefully settling the seat belt so it didn't disturb the ice pack on Regina's formerly-dislocated shoulder. The drive to the mayoral mansion was silent, Emma glancing occasionally at the woman huddled in the passenger seat. Regina stared morosely out the side window.
After parking, Emma hurried to the passenger side and opened the car door, offering the hospital-provided crutches.
Regina pulled herself to one foot and tucked a crutch under her good arm. She tried to hobble forward, but since both the right arm and right ankle were injured, she wobbled unsteadily, leaning heavily to the left. “Damn it, these things are defective.”
Emma suppressed her chuckle. “I think what you really need is one of those scooter things you can rest your knee on. I can look for one at a medical supply store tomorrow when they’re open.”
“That can’t be worse than these things,” Regina muttered, pouting.
Emma set aside the crutches as Regina clung to the car door. As Regina glared in obstinate silence, Emma slipped Regina's good arm over her shoulders.
"You need help, Regina," Emma murmured.
“I do not!” she snapped, hopping forward slowly, but clinging to Emma’s shoulder in defiance of her words.
Emma pulled her closer, and Regina didn’t resist. “Everyone needs help at some time in their life. It’s not a character flaw.”
"Yes it is," Regina argued, staring at the ground as she hobbled down the walk, leaning on Emma. "Looking weak is just an invitation to... problems."
Emma glanced sideways at the woman clinging to her. "You never look weak, Regina. Ever. You're the fiercest person I've ever known, and you can intimidate grown physicians from a hospital bed." Regina just grunted and handed her the keys to open the door.
Emma led her into the dark house, switching on lights as they crept along. Regina never complained about the pain - just occasionally stifled grunts as they ascended the stairs one step at a time. They shuffled in silence across the upper landing, and Emma's gut clenched as she realized she was about to enter Regina's private bedroom. As they reached the closed door, she opened her mouth to say something, maybe ask permission, but Regina swung open the door without hesitation and hobbled in. Emma helped her to the side of the bed, where Regina eased down with a soft groan.
The mayor's bedroom was luxurious and warm, softly elegant, and nearly the size of Emma's entire former apartment in Boston. She even had a damn fireplace with two elegantly upholstered chairs in front of it in her enormous bedroom, and a fancy velvet loveseat in what Emma thought might be Queen Anne style? Knowing Regina, it was Queen something style.
Suddenly the fireplace burst into a warm blue and yellow flame, perfect and even.
Emma turned to glare, hands on her hips. "Hey! No magic, Regina," she scolded. "Doctor's orders – you need to rest."
Regina pointed to a switch on the wall. "It's gas, Emma. I turned it on when we came in. It just takes a moment to light while the gas travels through the line."
"Oh. Um, a gas fireplace is cool,” Emma responded, then winced at how awkward she sounded. Regina shrugged, morosely dusting off invisible flecks on her pants. Emma bit her lower lip, feeling utterly hapless as silence filled the room like a dark fog.
Trying to look upbeat but compassionate at the same time, Emma took a big breath and smiled broadly. “Um, in the hospital, you said you wanted a shower, so how about we take care of that before those pain meds take hold. I don't, um, don’t want you to fall.” Emma ran a hand through her hair, panic building as Regina didn’t even twitch in response. “Yeah, showers, uh, showers are hard. Hard surfaces, not like difficult-hard. It’s bad to fall and hit them. No hitting hard surfaces..." By the time Emma trailed off, cringing inside, she could feel her “upbeat” smile fading into a strained grimace. Tension twisted painfully inside her. Somehow, often just looking at Regina could send Emma spinning emotionally.
Fortunately Regina was staring at her sling, picking at a loose thread, and she didn’t seem to notice Emma’s awkwardness; possibly the pain meds were beginning to affect the petite mayor. She nodded slowly, and Emma went into the bathroom in search of a towel as Regina began to shakily undress. Emma turned on the shower to warm up the water and picked up a thick, fluffy peach-colored towel. Heading back into the room, she kept her eyes chastely on the wallpaper and held up the towel for Regina to wrap herself in.
As Emma helped Regina into the bathroom, she could feel Regina's gaze flicking to her repeatedly, and she hoped she wasn't being creepy. Helping an injured... friend? Were they friends? Helping someone in pain wasn't a sexy moment, whatever the movies might think, and even if it had been, Regina had taken pain meds and wasn't capable of full consent. Plus in Emma's experience, if you feel like shit, you really don't feel sexy.
As Regina stepped into the shower, Emma hung up the towel where Regina could reach it. "Are you okay in there? You aren't going to fall, are you?"
Regina shook her head. "I'll be fine, Emma. Besides, there's a built-in seat."
"Oh. Wow, that's nice," Emma mumbled awkwardly, and hurried out of the bathroom, both relieved and, embarrassingly, secretly a bit disappointed that Regina didn't need her help in the shower.
She trotted downstairs to fetch a glass of water for Regina and hurried back, then sat on the loveseat. After texting Regina’s secretary that Regina probably wouldn’t be in tomorrow, she played phone games until she heard the shower shut off. Emma hopped to her feet and hurried to knock on the door. "Hey, you okay?"
Regina cleared her throat. "Yes. Could you please bring me some pajamas? Third drawer down in the dresser."
Emma nodded nervously, then realized Regina couldn't see her. "Uh, sure."
The dresser was full of silk and lace, some in black and red styles that made Emma's heart race. She swallowed, then studiously ignored the images trying to run rampant in her mind. This was a very inappropriate time for those thoughts. She selected a soft blue pair and hastily shut the drawer.
She knocked and stepped into the bathroom, keeping her gaze carefully on the corner of the room. In silence, she helped Regina gingerly pull on the pajamas. Regina was slow and a bit clumsy. Massive bruises covered the mayor's back, and a huge purple blotch covered her right shoulder.
She grimaced. "That shoulder looks painful."
Regina nodded. "It is, but the x-ray didn't show a fracture. It'll heal just fine."
So nothing was badly broken, at least, but Emma wondered. "How old is that x-ray machine?"
"State of the art for the 1980s. I'm working on it. Updating an entire hospital that's 30 years out of date takes time, and that project, among many others, fell behind during your mother's tenure as mayor." Regina spoke slowly, with a bit of slur, and moved with exaggerated dignity.
Emma didn't know how to respond, so she finished helping Regina dress, wrapped fresh ice packs on her shoulder and ankle again, and eased her over to the bed in silence. Regina flinched as she sat, so Emma helped her lift her legs into bed and pulled the covers over her.
As Regina settled, Emma asked, "What was that thing, anyway, and why did it hate the shaved ice stand so much?"
"No idea," Regina grunted, shifting her pillows around.
Emma scrunched her brow. "Really? It seems like a pretty memorable creature, what with all the mouths and eye-things.”
Regina glanced up at her, and in the light from the bedside lamp, Emma could see her pupils were getting tiny. The pain meds were definitely kicking in. "There's a number of sea monsters that we know very little about. That one obviously was quite frumious, so–"
"Wait, frumious? As in a... jabberwock kind of thing? Isn't that just a poem about imaginary creatures?
Regina scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Imaginary? Miss Swan I would think you'd know better by now."
"Oh shit. Really?" Regina blinked at her disdainfully, and Emma groaned. "What about the banda-whatevers?"
"Bandersnatches are quite real and are actually very, very frumious. You should definitely beware them." Regina waved her index finger at Emma aimlessly as if to touch her; Emma's face was out of reach, so Regina ended up sloppily poking her in the leg. The mayor didn't appear to have a high tolerance for pain meds, Emma reflected. Regina should at least get some good sleep.
"Really? Wow." Emma passed Regina the glass of water. "That sea monster felt like something out of a nightmare. I didn't really want to know that ugly thing was real."
"You need to know it if you ever encounter one. They’re very..." Regina continued, apparently still on the banderthings. She waved her hands in a motion like she was about to cast a spell, and Emma sucked in a tense breath. Regina was in no condition to begin casting spells. Fortunately, her hands dropped harmlessly. "Like that." Regina gazed expectantly at her.
Realizing Regina was waiting for a response, Emma cleared her throat and nodded slowly, trying to figure out what to say. "Oh... okay," she responded haplessly. "I'll definitely beware them."
Regina's chin lifted. "We had three attack my kingdom once, and after I dealt with them, the nearby villages threw a celebration in my honor. Other than the murdering, I was a damn fine ruler."
Other than the murdering.
The pause was awkward. "That's what my mother said once," slipped out of Emma's mouth before she could stop herself.
Regina snorted. "Don't lie to me. Snow doesn't compliment me."
Emma raised her brows. "I'm not. Mom doesn't like to talk about it, but she said she learned a lot from you." Snow had said she learned more from Regina than from her own father, but Emma knew better than to bring up the king to Regina. "She also said she appreciates that you cursed everyone to a place with modern plumbing and childhood vaccination programs."
"She should be grateful." Regina nodded haughtily, then met Emma's gaze wryly. "Honestly, it wasn't all that benevolent. I had to live here, too."
Emma smiled. "Well, since I live here as well, I'm also really grateful for the power and running water."
Regina inclined her head graciously. "You're welcome."
Emma sat on the edge of the bed so she could look Regina in the eyes more levelly. She dragged in a breath. "Listen, next time something like this happens, don’t just poof over into the fight alone, okay? It’s a crappy little shaved ice stand! It’s not worth getting killed over."
Regina sputtered in outrage. "My town does not have crappy little businesses, and you shouldn’t denigrate their product unless you’ve sampled it first."
"You could just say 'don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,'" Emma grumbled.
Regina sighed and lay back, staring at the ceiling in silence for a long moment. Despair crept over her face. "We failed. There’s no shaved ice stand any more." She reached for a tissue and dabbed her eyes.
Emma studied the woman before her, looking for signs of deception. But this reformed, or reforming Regina, while just as prickly as before, appeared to have given up her scheming and manipulating. This was just a genuinely upset woman, grieving the destruction of a ramshackle junk food stand. "Why is this so personal for you? Other disasters have happened to the town that resulted in a lot more damage and you just glared at the rubble. What's so special about shaved ice?"
Regina studied the tissue in her hands for a quiet moment as the heat from the fireplace massaged Emma’s back and brought a touch of color to Regina’s cheeks. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and fragile, as though she was about to break. “Henry and I used to go there on hot summer afternoons, back when he still liked me.”
Oh. Of course. She should have realized this was about Henry.
Emma sat on the edge of the bed. “Henry still likes you, Regina, he’s just… figuring things out. And he never stopped loving you.”
Regina sniffed and gave her a skeptical glance, and Emma nodded slowly, certain of this fact: Henry loved his adoptive mother. Regina was having trouble seeing it because it takes time to rebuild trust.
Regina sighed. "It was the last place I did something with Henry that made him smile. I'd hoped this summer we could..." she trailed off and closed her eyes, struggling for control.
Emma laid her hand on the back of Regina's. “We’ll rebuild it, and it’ll be up and running before school is out. Promise.”
Regina huffed dismissively. “How can you promise anything like that?”
“We’ll rebuild it if I have to hammer in every last nail myself. You’ll arrange for the replacement equipment. We’ll do it together.” Emma squeezed Regina's hand reassuringly as Regina's gaze lifted.
Regina cocked her head, eyes darting back and forth across Emma's face. “Together? You and me?”
Emma nodded, smiling. “Yeah, together, unlike how we fought that squid thing. We each tried to do it on our own, and it was a mess and you almost got killed. We do better when we work together.”
Regina exhaled, slow and low. "You're serious."
"Yep." Emma nodded once.
Regina studied her, searching for something, then sighed and stared back at the ceiling. "You may be right, but I'll never admit that in public."
Emma chuckled. "Never thought you would." She scooted closer and laid her hand on Regina's bicep. Screwing up her face, she focused, staring at the shoulder.
Regina's brows crunched together as she scoffed, "Don't strain yourself thinking too hard, Sheriff."
Emma huffed. "I'm trying to heal you. I started to do it on the pier, but I'm still so new at healing, I was afraid I'd make it worse when I didn't know what type of injuries you had."
Back in the familiar territory of magic, Regina's confidence returned. Her voice was clear and strong. "It was wise not to try anything at the time. Start with the shoulder and stop immediately if I tell you to. And stay away from my head – I'm afraid of what'll happen if you try to 'fix' my brain."
Emma rolled her eyes, but Regina reached over to move her hand higher, settling it onto the place where it visibly hurt, and gritted her teeth. Emma winced in sympathy and started to pull away, but Regina shook her head, so Emma swallowed and left it there.
With Regina's hand on hers, Emma concentrated.
Suddenly warm light, gleaming red and gold strands suffused in a white glow, rippled across Regina's body. Regina gasped and stared at Emma, eyes wide. Her breath came faster, and Emma narrowed her eyes as the healing magic settled in, working as she focused, as if something tangible was solidifying and forming beneath her hands. It lasted a handful of seconds, Regina's gaze scouring Emma's face the whole time, then Emma's head began to spin and the glow faded away.
Emma sagged in exhaustion. "See? Together is better. We're stronger that way."
Regina didn't respond; she simply stared at Emma, breathing like she'd run a race. Emma pulled herself together and returned the gaze, curious at the mayor's response. Regina's expression was a mixture of bafflement, awe, shock, and... was that hope? Regina cleared her throat and looked away before Emma could decide.
Emma sat on the bed in silence, her nerves and her pride tumbled together with confusion from Regina's reaction. "That, uh, felt like it worked. Are you okay? Did it work?"
Regina nodded quickly. She swallowed and took a deep breath, still looking at the far wall. "Yes, that was... definitely successful healing magic."
Emma tried to rise, but her knees began to buckle; she wound up plopping heavily back on the side of Regina's bed, almost falling sideways over Regina's body.
"Emma, lie down before you fall down," Regina grumbled, draping her good arm across her face. “You've exhausted your magic and you're too tired to drive safely." Emma froze, staring. Regina lifted her arm from her eyes and glared. "What?"
Emma blinked. "I was expecting you to try to throw me out, regardless of what the doctor said."
Regina examined her fingernails. "I'm in a hospitable mood at present." She turned to glare at Emma. "You haven't managed your magical energy use well and you're a wreck. Get some rest, and you won't have to arrest yourself for driving while impaired."
Emma nodded. "You're probably right. I'm pretty tired."
"Of course I'm right," Regina retorted irritably. "Besides, given both our physical states, I hardly think either of us will be murdering the other overnight. That’ll have to wait until morning.” She looked up at Emma warily. "There's, um, a guest room down the hall... if that suits you."
Emma smiled. Of course Regina couldn't just invite her to stay. It had to be we're too tired for murder, so I guess you can stay. "Thanks. Magical exhaustion is something else. I think I could fall right over."
Regina's head snapped towards Emma, and she stared with an unfathomable expression. Her voice was flat. "You don't think you can make it down the hall?"
"No, that's not it. I need to keep an eye on you tonight – doctor's orders, so I'll take a nap on that sofa by the fire."
Regina's face was a mask of perfect control. "If that's what you want... It's not the most comfortable for sleeping."
Emma rose gingerly. Her knees held this time, so she took the few steps over to the sofa. "I've had a lot worse napping spots, trust me. I'll be fine. And this way when I need to check on you in the middle of the night, I don't have to wake you."
Regina nodded slowly. "If you're sure, well, I... won’t object. And," she paused and drew in a long breath as if bracing herself. "Thank you." She reached with her good arm to turn off the light, and darkness settled into the corners of the room.
Emma kicked off her boots and curled up on the small loveseat. Her feet dangled off, but she could make this work for a few hours. "Plus, it'll make Henry happy, knowing you're safe. Goodnight, Regina."
The reply was so soft she could barely hear it. "Goodnight, Emma."
What was this relationship evolving into? A confusing mess of emotions tangled inside Emma, and her heart pounded in her chest as she tucked a throw pillow under her head. Sleep was going to be a long time coming.
By the light of the flickering fire, she could see the mayor's eyes on her, astonished, wary, oddly gentle, and deeply speculative.