Title: Caught Painting a Dotted Line… (1/?)
Fandom: Once Upon a Time
Pairing: Swan Queen (Emma Swan/Regina Mills)
Spoiler/Warning: Up till 1.21 – An Apple Red as Blood. Canon till 1.21 with slight AU happenings, veers off canon after 1.21.
Summary: Regina is pregnant. And there is angst, and forgiveness is not really on the horizon right away. Or something like that. I've never written a worse summary in my life.
Disclaimer: This is purely fictional. I own none of it.
[…]
A/N: I don't even know what this fic is, I dreamt it. No, not kidding, I literally dreamt it and woke up with it half-written in my head and said to myself 'what a story it'd make if Regina was pregnant when Henry ate the turnover and there was a plotline steeped in oodles of angst and anger'. So here it is. Feedback would be appreciated. Title from the song 'Moving Pictures, Silent Films' by Great Lake Swimmers. And these lyrics seem strangely relevant:
I took it for love
Or at least something beautiful
Out there in the spotlight
But I turned around suddenly
Turned around squinting
And saw that it was headlights
And then the truth, the truth was unbearable
Oh, and imminent
Bearing down on these two shadow animals
Caught painting a dotted line…
[…]
Regina's first mistake was allowing Emma Swan to stay in the town.
Her second mistake was failing to control her own feelings and urges where Emma Swan was concerned.
Her third mistake was giving in to said urges and sleeping with Emma Swan one dark night which was promptly forgotten and ignored the next day by the both of them.
Her fourth, final and biggest mistake was baking that apple turnover in a fit of rage, handing it to Emma Swan and not making sure that her son stayed home, safe and away from the damnable woman as she prepared to leave town, and consequently away from that cursed turnover. If she had done that, this wouldn't have happened.
The queasiness she had been feeling for the past few weeks returned full force as she watched the doctors pump her son's little chest. He was so small and it seemed so fragile, she was afraid they might break a rib or two. She felt her own heart stop with every beep that the machine skipped. She could feel pain begin to spread in her body from somewhere deep in her stomach but she disregarded it, her breath stuck in her throat as she tried to come to terms with the fact that once again she had destroyed what little chance she had left at a happy ending. This time she had no one to blame but herself. The weight of the realization crushed her inside out.
And then Regina felt a hand grab at her elbow and turn her around forcefully. Sudden nausea and dizziness gripped her as she clawed at the wall behind her to try and steady herself. Emma's face ebbed in and out of focus for a moment and her furious voice seemed to be coming through a tunnel.
"What the hell did you put in that fucking turnover, you fucking bitch!"
Regina recovered a little only to find Emma's face inches from her own, eyes burning with fury, and the hospital staff and patients staring at the two of them. Emma must have noticed them too, because she grabbed Regina's arm and banged open the door to the nearest storage closet, pushing Regina inside the room and into the metal rack full of spare hospital supplies. NG tubes and disposable syringes rained down on to the floor.
Regina felt a tug deep behind her navel as the dull pain increased tenfold in intensity and spread out deep in her abdomen, making her legs shake and her head dizzy. She could hardly make out the words of Emma's furious diatribe, except for the last ones which rang in the room and seemed to resonate in her whole being.
"If he dies, so do you!"
Regina wanted to laugh at that, she wanted to shout at the other woman; she wanted to say, "Do you think I'd want to live if he dies?" But she didn't.
The dizziness increased and the pain seemed to spread, growing more intense as Regina made herself walk out of that room behind Emma, straight-backed, matching the other woman's quick step even though the edges of the world were fuzzy and getting fuzzier still with each passing moment.
The next hour was a blur of old memories, newer regrets and Emma's harsh voice, the weakening beep of her son's heartbeat, the talk of curses, and of breaking them. Emma's disbelief and shock, Emma's tears, Emma clutching at straws, ready to do anything, believe anything to save Henry's life. And pain. Oh, the pain! The pain in Regina's heart, the pounding in her head. The knife-edged pain in her abdomen increasing every second. But her son was dying, she could manage to ignore this pain.
And then it was too late. The savior's sword and the witch's magic could not do anything. The harsh, staccato beeps rose to a frenzied rhythm before stopping altogether. Regina heard the machine flat-line. She heard Emma sob, and bend over Henry's still form and kiss his bloodless, white cheek again and again.
"Henry! I love you, Henry!"
Regina forgot the pain that had been threatening to take over for the past hour as her reality seemed to break down around her. She rushed forward, her hands covered Emma's cold fingers as she cupped Henry's face with the last bit of strength she had left in her. Her head bumped into Emma's as she bent down to place her lips on her son's icy forehead. Tears fell down and were absorbed in his dark, matted hair.
Once again she had failed.
She felt darkness gathering in front of her as her strength gave away. The last thing Regina heard before her vision went black was her own voice sobbing out her son's name and the frantic but steady beep of the EKG machine. The last thing she saw was Henry's green, confusion-filled eyes before she slid down to the cold, tiled floor into a pool of something dark red and sticky.
[...]
For Emma the world seemed to have ended the moment the bright green spikes on the little screen morphed into a straight line. In a daze, she heard herself sobbing, and kissing her dead son again and again, telling him over and over that she loved him, wishing he could hear her finally saying it.
She felt rather than saw Regina's wordless shout, Regina rushing into the room, face as pale as Henry's lifeless one. She felt Regina's fingers cover her own as the other woman cupped Henry's face in her hands. She felt her head bump against Regina's as they both bent down to kiss their son. She felt Regina's tears drip down and disappear into his hair, and she felt her heart split open with grief.
And then Henry opened his eyes, and Regina's grip on her fingers was loosened, and then it was gone. The EKG machine beeped back into life, filling the room with steady, frantic heartbeats. Emma saw the color being pumped back into Henry's pale cheeks, and she heard herself laugh as she bodily picked up her son and crushed him to herself.
It was a while before she was ready to let him go a little to look at his face. He seemed fine and in control of all his senses.
"Don't you ever do that to me again, you hear me!"
She saw him nod, and hold on to her and it was only when she held him tightly again, her lips coming in contact with the salty wetness of Regina's tears in his hair that Emma realized Regina had slumped down to the floor and never gotten back up.
"Hold up, kid," she reluctantly parted with Henry, laying him back down gently like she was afraid he might break or fall down again, and rushed around to the other side of the bed only to stop in her tracks halfway and grip the frame of the bed to steady herself as she stared in shock at the sight in front of her eyes. Regina lay in a pool of blood, her face drained of any color, as deathly white as the marble tiles that she lay upon.
Emma felt the panic that had just subsided a few moments ago claw its way back up her chest.
"What is it, Emma?" Henry's voice made her snap out of her shocked silence.
Her hurried, 'Don't look down, kid!' went unheeded as he sat up and peered down from the bed and gasped, his eyes widening.
"Did you kill her? Did you kill the Evil Queen?"
"Oh, Henry, don't be ridiculous," Emma said, her voice wavering a little as she rushed forward, kneeling down and gathering the unconscious woman in her arms. "She just — I dunno — collapsed." She didn't add 'just as you woke up', afraid that might exactly be the reason. This whole magic and curse-breaking thing was new to her, she didn't know if it was a side-effect or not of the so-called magic that Regina was like this right now.
Regina's skin was damp and ice-cold as Emma tried to feel for a pulse on her neck. She found one, thready and weak, but it was there. Relief, immense and almost dizzying in its intensity, flooded her whole being.
"She is alive," she said.
"But why is there so much blood?" She heard the slight note of panic in Henry's voice and it made her look up and take stock.
"Kid, I have no idea. Keep an eye on her, let me call Dr. Whale, okay?"
He nodded, eyes wide with fear, as she lay the mayor down gently, unconsciously reaching out to brush back a lock of dark hair plastered to the damp, cold forehead, and ran out to call the doctors.
[...]
They rushed her to the nearest OR right away. Henry was shifted into a smaller room, already drowsy from the all the medication that had been pumped into his bloodstream earlier.
"Will she be okay?" he asked her, voice small, almost scared.
"I hope so," said Emma. God, I hope so.
"I know she is the Evil Queen, but I don't like seeing her like this," he said, gripping her hand.
"I know, kid," Emma said, smoothing back his hair and planting a kiss on his forehead. "I know, neither do I."
She sat with him until he fell into a deep sleep. The rest of the hour Emma spent pacing the little room, her feelings swiveling between rage at the scheming woman and worry at her state, not entirely sure why, and alternately holding Henry's hand because she still couldn't believe he was alive and safe. Finally there was a knock on the door and Dr. Whale entered the room, his face grave. She felt her heart sink.
"How's she?" she said, standing up to talk to him.
"She's not out of danger yet. She lost a lot of blood."
"But what happened to her?"
"I believe the stress of Henry's taking ill, and all the running about was too much for her in her condition."
"What do you mean 'her condition'?"
"Oh, I thought you knew."
"Knew what?"
"She's pregnant."
[...]