seriousfic

Title: Not A Fairy Tale Romance
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,338
Characters/Pairings: Regina/Emma, Mary Margaret/David
Notes: This fic is an AU as of 1x07 - The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter
Previous: Part 2
Summary: After a home invasion, Regina finds herself grateful that Emma is there to protect her. Care for her.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“This is Regina Mills, I’m at my home, 315 Clark Street. There’s a man in my house. I think he has a gun.”

“A unit is on its way.”

“My son is with me!”

***

Emma had one slice. And yes, it was warm and gooey and other things that weren’t vagina-adjectives. But that was it. She’d let Graham have the rest of Regina’s pie.

She was just reheating another slice when the call came in. The 911 Dispatch usually only got fender benders and people calling for movie showtimes, but tonight, it was Regina Mills. “She says there’s someone in her house,” the operator said.

“I’m on my way.” Ten seconds later, Emma was in her car, on the radio with dispatch. “Put her through to me,” she ordered, smashing down the pedal. “Regina, you there? Answer me—“

“I never thought I’d be so glad to hear your voice, Emma. Or for your right hook.”

“My right hook is seven minutes out.” Images of Regina and Henry and blood kept flashing into Emma’s mind. Regina’s voice was a match in the darkness, driving it away. As pathetic as it sounded, she needed comforting as much as Regina. “Are you in a safe place? Is Henry with you?”

“We’re together. I have us in the sewing room. The intruder’s downstairs.”

“Look around. Is there anything you can use for a weapon?”

“Knitting needle. A pair of scissors.”

“Take the scissors. If he comes in, go for his throat.” Emma suddenly remembered she was a cop now. She hit her siren even as she ran a red light.

***

She’d underestimated how small Storybrooke was. In four minutes she was parked on Regina’s front yard. Drawing her service revolver and flashlight, she went to the door (the lock was splinters) to ease it open. The house had that emptier-than-empty feel you got with home invasions. “This is the police!” she shouted. What came after that? “We have the place surrounded! Come out with your hands up!”

Regina and Henry appeared at the top of the stairs. Henry had his hands up. Emma gestured them over and they flew down the stairs, Regina tightly holding Henry’s hand. As they ran past her and out the door, Emma caught a fleeting sideways look from Regina. It was the first time she’d seen Regina without suspicion, anger, or the kind of protective fear you got when what you loved was threatened. There was just gratitude. Regina had never looked more beautiful.

Emma backed out of the house, gun covering the shadows. “Officer in need of assistance, send back-up immediately…”

***

Graham showed up with the volunteer fire department as reinforcements, but by then the intruder, if he hadn’t left already, was definitely gone. Emma covered the Mills family like a blanket, sitting on the other side of Henry from Regina as the men swept the house. As much as Emma disliked the cliché, she wanted to stay with Henry and the bench felt so safe with them protecting Henry on both sides.

Graham came to them, hat in hand, to ask for Regina’s statement. His eyes ran furtively between the two women, but he was a good cop—he took down the statement and excused himself. By this time, the lack of adrenaline had knocked Henry out. His head laid on Regina’s lap. She petted his hair like she’d wanted to touch him for a long time and this was the only way she could.

“I would’ve thought you’d be the one to lull him to sleep,” she spoke with the same lack Emma had seen in her eyes earlier. Without her claws out, the emptiness in Regina was totally obvious. Like a hole in the middle of her chest.

“I’m sorry,” Emma replied.

“Again?”

“No mother should have to feel that her son is someone else’s.”

“He’s mine,” Regina agreed feebly. “I just want to hold onto him.”

“There’s such a thing as holding on too tight,” Emma reasoned. “Henry’s not gonna leave forever if you give him some leeway. He’ll just come back.”

“Is this still the voice of experience talking?”

“I did have some good foster-parents,” Emma said, mock-offended.

Regina turned to hide her smile and saw that they were alone. The firemen had left and Graham was keeping a respectful distance. She waved him off. With a nod, he got in his cruiser and drove off, a little slower than necessary.

Soon enough, they were alone with the moon and stars and their sleeping boy. It was a cold night and the natural direction was to the nearest warmth. And to Regina, Emma burned so hot, not cold and sinister like her. They were so different, far too different… Regina imagined she could feel the heat on her skin, like they were touching already.

“I should go,” Emma said, and Regina desperately wanted to know how her thoughts paralleled her own.

Her lips pinched in the middle, with many things she had to say to that and none she wanted out loud. “If you think it’s best,” she said, the thing she wanted to say least of all.

Emma stood, stretching, and Regina saw beneath her leather jacket in places. It occurred to her that she’d seen because she’d looked. “You could stay at a hotel tonight. I know a good bed and breakfast. Or Mary Margaret has a ridiculous assortment of love seats, if…”

“Here’s fine,” Regina assured her. Everything she said was rushed by the sudden knowledge that what she felt for Emma wasn’t lust or the vague, elusive need she could only define by its void, most keenly felt when she saw happy endings and happy feelings (she’d taken care of that). Somehow, Emma combined the worst, hungriest parts of both.

Her words sped. “Henry will sleep in my room. I’ll keep my taser on the nightstand. I’m already expecting the locksmith tonight, and I’ll have a new security system put in tomorrow morning. You have no reason to worry.”

And yet Emma stood there, looking at Regina like she was trying to prepare herself for the hurt of losing everything. Maybe it’d happened before.

“I’m a phone call away if anything happens. Anything.”

“A whole phone call away? If this was all it took to teach you about boundaries, I would have been burglarized a lot sooner.”

Emma said nothing. But she didn’t leave until Regina had carried Henry inside and locked the door behind her.

***

It was happenstance. Maybe a little less, maybe a little more. Now that Graham knew the truth, everything had an odd taste of predestination, a kind of déjà vu. Henry would think so, but he’d never been in the fairy tales. They were messier than he thought, messier and bigger and faster. So maybe it was just random.

But driving through town, hoping to get lucky and see a suspicious character he could haul in for the home invasion, Graham instead saw a lonely shape on a park bench, huddled like a shadow at midday. He parked around the block and walked over. Without the hum of his car engine, he could hear her sniffles carrying like crickets. It was a tiny, broken sound—like she’d cracked and the tear was slowly widening.

“Ma’am?” he said, looking at her full-on. It was Kathryn. David’s wife. And not David’s wife. She looked pale and fragile, her blouse too thin for that time of night, her bare arms coiled around her own chest as she let the sobs drain out of her.

“Sheriff,” she said, and wiped her face. He wished he had hung back a little, called her name sooner. Given her more time to compose herself. This felt invasive. “I’m fine, I’m alright—“

“Well, I know you weren’t mugged or anything,” Graham said, now shrugging off his jacket. He settled it around her and she made a token noise of protest before wrapping the still-warm material around herself. “Doesn’t mean you’re fine.”

“I’m not sure marriage counseling is in the sheriff’s job description.”

“It’s more of a hobby.” He sat down beside her, keeping a foot of difference between them so she didn’t think he was some kind of sleazeball going for a quick feel. “Might as well talk about it with someone.”

Kathryn was quiet, but he could feel her on some animal level, warming up in his presence. People didn’t do things all at once. As much as society tried to rush them, they happened at their own pace. Most of the time, you just had to stand back and let them.

Finally, she said “Have you ever lost someone?”

“In a matter of speaking.” She looked at him, eyes insisting on explanation. “There was someone I thought I… I don’t know what I thought. We were together. That’s what I thought. But it turned out she was using me, or I was using her… I’m not sure which it was, at the end. She thought I had something she needed. I didn’t.”

“It’s worse when you get them back,” Kathryn said, dead certain. “I thought I couldn’t be anymore alone than when David was gone. But now that he’s back, it’s like he’s further away than ever, because he’s right there and I still can’t…”

He could feel her slipping away, a shadow passing over her face. He smiled reassuringly to her. “Someone once told me that not having anyone was the worst curse imaginable. She was wrong. There’s no such thing as being alone, because somewhere in this world, there’s always someone going through the same thing as you. But having someone, and it being the wrong person?”

“David’s not the wrong person. He’s just… maybe he’s not the same person… Or maybe I’m not the same person. Sheriff—”

“You can call me Graham. You’re not a teenager, it won’t come off disrespectful.”

“Graham,” Kathryn said, carefully enunciating it. “Do you know Mary Margaret well?”

“We’re friends. Not close, but it’s a small town. Everyone gets a general idea of ya, eventually.”

“Is she the type that would… well, that would lead a man on? A man that’s taken?”

“I don’t think so,” Graham said, not saying that he’d seen worse done by better. People were never what they appeared to be. “Look, it’s getting late and while the streets may be safe, if I do say so myself, I can’t say the same for the weather. Let me give you a ride home.”

“No,” Kathryn said, quick and firm. “I don’t want to talk to him right now.”

“Why? Did he do something?”

“It’s not anything he does… just the way he works so hard, and I work so hard, and it never seems like enough…”

Graham nodded. “Then how about a ride to the police station? You can just sit down, I’ll give you some coffee, you can sort this all out in private.”

She thought it over, but not for very long. When you were drowning, you didn’t spend time eying rope. “Yes. I would like that.”

***

Regina couldn’t sleep. She looked down at Henry, held in her arms like a stuffed animal he himself might’ve slept with. He wished she could steal his innocent sleep for the night. No. Not his. Graham’s or Archie’s or Gold’s, but never Henry’s.

Untangling herself from his little boy need to be comforted, she stood and found a heavy housecoat to put on, one with a pocket for the taser. With one hand magnetized to it, she patrolled the first floor, checking that the doors and windows were locked, never leaving earshot of Henry. She knew she was being paranoid, and was just berating herself for being rattled by such a tiny offense when she saw the car parked across the street. It wasn’t one of the cars that belonged in her neighborhood. She’d know; it was her business to. Then she realized it was a VW Bug. Regina could’ve headbutted the wall.

Putting on a heavy coat and tying it over her nightclothes, she checked on Henry one last time. Then she went out to see Emma.

***

“I don’t recall putting overtime in the police budget.”

Emma rolled down her window, letting out the smell of coffee. “I’m doing this pro bono.”

“That’s for lawyers. What you’re doing is called vigilantism.”

Emma exaggeratedly furrowed her brow. “Like Batman?”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Are you going to be out here all night?”

“Crime doesn’t have a curfew.”

Regina rolled her eyes harder. “Come inside. I have better coffee.”

“Are you sure?”

“No. Hurry up while it’d still be rude to send you packing.”

***

Henry was awake when they went back inside, at the top of the stairs, peeking down through the banisters.

“Oh no,” Regina said firmly. “Bed, Henry. You have school tomorrow.”

“You have being a mayor tomorrow,” he argued.

“I’ve been to college. I can handle staying up all night.”

”I think he’s a little young to hear about that,” Emma stage-whispered.

“Up studying.”

Following into the rhythm of children everywhere, Henry appealed one parent’s decision by turning to the other. Still speaking to Regina, he gave Emma his puppy dog eyes.

“If Emma’s having a sleepover, can she watch my Scooby Doo DVD?”

“No!” Regina said, crossing her arms now. “You need to get to sleep.”

Emma gently prodded Regina with her elbow. “C’mon, Regina, read him a bedtime story or something.“

“Yeah!” Henry said.

Regina sighed. Now they were both giving her the puppy dog eyes. It must’ve been genetic. “One story, then you’ll go to bed?”

“I promise!”

“He promises, Regina,” Emma chimed.

“Fine,” Regina growled. She forced her voice to lighten. “Get in bed and I’ll be up in a minute.” She looked at Emma, already knowing the deputy would be tagging along. “But no comments from the peanut gallery.”

”I’ll turn off my brain like I’m at a Michael Bay movie.”

***

After last week, Regina had sworn off wine, but even AA would say that a home invasion called for a drink. She allowed herself one glass, then washed it out and put it up to dry. When it was sparkling, she went up the stairs. By the time she got to Henry’s room, she saw Emma had already tucked him in. It physically struck her how right the two of them looked. Like a family. Emma looked up to her from her son’s bed, smiling with hateful forgiveness at being interrupted in her familial bliss. “Tell us a story, Regina.”

Regina would just show her. There was one fairy tale she knew intimately.

Towering over the two of them in their bed, she began. “Once upon a time, in a far-off kingdom, a wise king and his beautiful queen had a daughter. In another story, the princess would be beloved by all her subjects, but she didn’t get a happy story. The nobles of the land knew that if they killed her, the king would have no heir. So the young princess’s first memory was of assassins and danger.”

Emma patted Henry’s arm. “Regina, are you sure this is such a great story for tonight?”

“Of course I’m sure. You love fairy tales, don’t you, son?”

Henry nodded mutely.

“Many would be broken by such a childhood, but the princess grew strong. To survive her enemies, she became crafty and ruthless. She found that trust was a luxury.”

The world had seemed so big when she’d realized it. She must’ve been tiny. It was funny; she couldn’t remember learning she was going to die, or that she was royalty, or anything else. But, clear as a bell, she remembered sneaking out of the castle to play in the little grove, chasing piglets with the farm girls. A week later, a little boy had started playing with them. After two days, he told her he had something to show her and in the woods, he’d taken out a knife.

She still had the scar on her lip. Magic couldn’t shrink it any further.

“But the princess’s life was not an unhappy one, for all her troubles. She learned all the courtly arts and all the most powerful magic. Her favorite lessons were with the court musician. The musician taught many young girls, and so for the first time, she was around children her own age. One of them was even younger than the princess, and she looked up to her. Also for the first time, the princess felt what it was like to be admired, respected, idolized… all the things a princess should be. What she didn’t know was that the little girl was really an ugly monster in disguise.”

Emma had her hand under Henry’s shirt, rubbing his back to relax. It looked like such an unpracticed gesture, coming so naturally to her, coming through the blood. It incensed Regina. So she smiled.

“One day, the princess returned from her music lesson to find her mother kissing someone who was not her father. She didn’t know what to do. She trusted her parents, but she couldn’t tell them about this. So she told the little girl. Why couldn’t she trust a little girl?”

And now she stopped smiling. The memory got into her lungs like tobacco smoke. She could’ve vomited it up. It was filthy, what her mother had been doing. Filthy and disgusting and wrong. She’d never debase herself like that. Sex was just a way of having power over someone, of taking pleasure from them, and Regina had much better ways of being powerful. Of taking her pleasure. She’d tried it, of course, the dark arts weren’t partial to purity, but it was nothing next to the power of walking down the street and knowing that everyone’s existence had been shaped by her without them even knowing it.

“The little girl knew that this was her chance. She told the king, and he… he sent the queen far, far away, where the princess could never see her again.”

She remembered the coffin. Glass, so she could see where her father had returned the favor, stabbing Mother through the heart. Later, she’d given Snow White the same courtesy. But of course that bitch couldn’t have just taken a quick death and run with it.

“The little girl grew up, and she tricked the people as she had tricked the princess. But the princess grew to adulthood as well, and she knew the truth. She swore to stop the little girl from hurting anyone else. But no matter what she tried, the girl was too powerful. Finally, the princess decided her vengeance was more important than herself. She gave up all her magical powers and sacrificed everything she had ever known, but she finally imprisoned her nemesis in a prison she would never escape from. And she lived happily ever after.”

“How?” Henry asked immediately. He wasn’t as cowed as Emma had feared.

“Well, she… founded a new kingdom. And all the people there liked and respected her.”

“Did she get married?”

“Of course not. She could never trust someone not to betray her.”

”The princess doesn’t sound very happy. She should fall in true love with a brave knight.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Emma said.

“Fine,” Regina gritted out. “The princess fell in love with a fearless knight and they got married and had a kid who always went to bed when he was told.”

Emma clapped and Henry followed suit. Henry gave up staying awake just to be stubborn and curled up on his pillow. Emma patted the bed on the other side of Henry and Regina gave in just so Emma couldn’t say she wouldn’t and no sooner had Regina laid down than the boy snuggled into her.

“I’ll go check the house again,” Emma got up with a protest of bedsprings, leaving Henry’s little hand on the mattress, unconsciously reaching for her. Regina took hold and squeezed it.