Swan Queen Week [July 2015 - Tropes & Cliches]: Day 1: Bed Sharing

SQ Week is here! Super excited to see everyone's creations and post some of my own. Prompt is bed sharing AKA my number 1 weakness in fanfic. Regina and Emma share a cabin on the Jolly Roger and Regina has a nightmare.

Feedback powers me and is greatly appreciated.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of torture.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Once Upon A Time.

"It's a rather long trip from here to Neverland," Hook announces, looking over the deck from the wheel of the ship. Henry's two mothers haven't stopped pacing for the last ten minutes, as if they think they only have a little time to kill. In reality, the trip is likely to be another twelve hours at the very least.

Regina stops her restless movement and stares at the pirate with a furrowed brow. "There's nothing we can do to speed it up?"

He frowns at her, hand and hook never leaving the wheel. "If there was, don't you think I would have done it?" he says, raising his voice to be heard above the rolling waves. "And - before you suggest it - it would be unwise to use magic. We don't know how far Neverland's magic stretches."

"Of course," the brunette mutters, gritting her teeth. She turns to begin her pacing again, but Hook grabs her attention again.

"I suggest you get some rest while you can," the pirate says, addressing all of them now. "We need to be in top form if we're to defeat Pan."

A huff of disbelief escapes Regina because how can he want to sleep when her son is missing? She wants to argue, wants to fight back, but she's suddenly aware of the utter exhaustion in her bones and of just how weak she feels after the recent events. Rest sounds unbelievably good, and she supposes there's not much they can do for Henry stuck on this godforsaken ship.

So with only a little resistance, the four of them - the Charmings, their daughter, and the Evil Queen - settle down to rest.

Snow and Charming share one of the three cabins, of course, and Regina takes another. Emma is given Hook's cabin and Regina suspects the pirate has his motives - no doubt he'd get a kick out of saying the saviour was in his bed.

Emma catches the brunette's arm before she heads down to her cabin. "Regina?"

"Can I help you?" Regina responds with weary irritation, looking at the hand gripping her arm as if it has personally offended her.

The blonde shifts. "Do you mind if I share your cabin?" When she receives a look that's a mix of annoyance and confusion, she hastily tries to explain. "I - I'm not sure I'll do so well on my own - with all that's happened recently - Henry and Neal and the whole thing with Greg."

Regina watches her curiously as the saviour unravels right in front of her.

Emma babbles on. "And do I really want to sleep in Hook's cabin, even if he's not there? Never know what I might find…"

"Miss Swan," Regina interrupts. "Do you snore?"

The blonde opens her mouth in disbelief, and gapes like a goldfish for a second before replying. "Uh - not as far as I know."

"And you won't talk to me all night?"

Emma shakes her head quickly. "Won't even know I'm there."

The brunette drops her head in allowance, waving one hand as if to say 'follow me'. She heads below deck, in the direction Snow and Charming had gone in.

Finding the door to the cabin she'd been designated, she pushes it open and heads into the small room.

And of course.

Of course there would only be one bed.

It's like some ridiculous rom-com, except they're on a pirate ship headed to a deadly island, and this is all very real.

She's very tempted to turn around and tell Emma that no, they are not sharing a bed and Emma is just going to have to find somewhere else to sleep.

However, a part of her pities Emma for being given the one-handed pirate's room - the part of her that's grateful for the blonde giving her Henry and being at her side when everyone else had been wild with rage and wanting her head. A part of her hates the idea of kicking Emma out like so many people have done before.

So all Regina does is exhale slowly through her nose and bite her tongue.

Behind her, she hears Emma mumble a sarcastic 'fantastic'. At least they're in the same boat.

Quite literally.

"We can work around it," Regina reasons as coolly as she can.

The bed seems a lot smaller when the two of them are in it, underneath the scratchy blanket, trying to maintain some distance between them. Regina is pressed against the wall and Emma is on the brink of tumbling onto the floor, and still their arms touch.

They manage, though.

Sort of.

Emma is something of a fidgeter, and it takes what feels like an age for her to finally get comfortable.

"I do hope you're not going to carry on like that all night," Regina grumbles.

"It's not my fault pirate beds are uncomfy as shit," the sheriff throws back, shifting once more for good measure.

"I'm managing just fine, aren't I?"

Emma huffs. "Yeah, well. Not all of us are as perfect as you, your majesty."

Regina turns to face the wall, squeezing her eyes shut in the hopes that it'll shut out Emma's stupidity. She acts like the mother of her son isn't an inch away, in the same bed, and instead thinks of anything but her missing son, his mother, and the crashing waves that toss the ship around like a bath toy.

Eventually, her eyelids begin to become heavy, and her muscles relax. Sleep tugs at her, and she follows willingly.

"Goodnight, Regina," Emma murmurs, breaking the silence and staring up at the wooden slats of the cabin ceiling.

Regina just grunts in response.

A little while after Emma finally falls asleep, she wakes again to the sound of a strangled whimper. It's soft and broken, like an injured kitten, and it's coming from somewhere in the tiny cabin.

The blonde groans and rubs her eyes with balled fists before propping herself up against the head of the bed. It's then she realises how close to Regina she shifted during the night - Emma's front is practically pressed against Regina's back.

Regina who is shaking like a leaf and damp with cold sweat.

The weak cries were not in fact from a cat that had somehow got onto the ship, but from the former queen herself.

As if to punctuate Emma's realisation, a cracked, wordless shout slips from Regina's lips.

Something inside Emma breaks. The haughty woman sounds so feeble and afraid, and so young. In this moment, it's easy to forget that this is a woman who has killed many and definitely does not need protecting.

It occurs to the blonde that Regina would never risk displaying this sort of vulnerability if she had a say in it, which means she must be asleep and unaware.

"Regina," the saviour finds herself murmuring. "Regina."

No response.

Emma places a hand on the brunette's shoulder and shakes her gently. "Wake up," she says a little louder. "C'mon, Regina."

The former mayor twitches, and then her muscles tighten and she sits bolt upright, gasping. She pushes blindly at Emma, shoving her back with shaking arms in a fit of hysteria, as if she's not really here or aware of where she is. Her breaths come in heavy pants, and her forehead is beaded with sweat. Wide, wild eyes flit around the room quickly, trying to process the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Hey, hey," Emma interrupts, trying to pull her out of her fear and anchor her to the real world. "It was just a dream."

The brunette pauses, taking in the words and making sense of them. She comes back to herself after a minute and stammers shakily, "Emma?"

A small, reassuring smile forms on the saviour's face. "Yeah," she breathes. "You're safe, Regina."

Regina swallows and works her jaw. She catches her breath and then realises the level of vulnerability she'd just displayed. Without warning, she throws the thin blanket off, climbs hastily over Emma, and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. One hand pressed to her stomach, the former queen flees the room without even bothering to pull her boots on.

Regina finds herself on the deck of the ship, at the end furthest to the pirate still at the wheel, sitting on a wooden crate with her head in her hands. The cool air helps calm her nerves a little, and the soft, repetitive sound of the waves rolling against each other is soothing.

It's not enough to take the images out of her head or wash away the darkness left by the dream though.

It had felt so real, like she was back in the cannery again, strapped to that table, weak and powerless. Every sensation - the cold metal, the slick sweat on her skin, the sound of Greg's slimy voice, the pain - had felt as intense as they had in reality. Regina can still feel the burn of electricity in her muscles and the utter fear that struck each time Greg moved towards the dial.

She swallows down the sudden nausea and panic, forces herself to think of anything but that time in the cannery.

"Regina?"

Wonderful.

It must run in the Charming family to not know when to leave things well enough alone.

The former queen straightens, donning a stony mask and a cold, flat voice. "What is it?"

"You ok?" the sheriff asks, approaching slowly as if Regina might bolt if she proceeds to fast.

"I'm fine," Regina lies. Her voice slips and cracks the slightest amount halfway through the word 'fine' and she curses herself silently.

Emma nods. "Right." She reaches the edge of the ship and rests her forearms against the wood, just leaning and staring out at the sea.

A moment of silence passes before the blonde murmurs in a noncommittal voice, "You wanna talk about it?"

Regina doesn't - she really, really doesn't - but something inside her knows she can't carry this shit around with her the entire time they're on this island. Her mouth opens against her will and she says almost inaudibly, "It was the cannery."

It makes sense. With all that's going on, everyone's managed to overlook Regina's torture, but it's still agonisingly real to the brunette.

"I can't imagine what that must have been like," the blonde says lowly, unable to relate - she thinks it's more respectful to not even try to when nothing she can think of even comes close.

Regina makes a short noise somewhere between a forced chuckle and a pained grunt. "Then you're lucky."

Emma exhales, drops her head regretfully for a second - she can't help but feel like she, the saviour, for christ's sake, could have done something to stop it - before speaking. "We'll get them, y'know. Greg and Tamara - we'll catch them and we'll make them pay."

"For what they did to me or for what they did to Henry?"

The sheriff shrugs. "Both."

Regina chuckles. "That we will. No one messes with our son and gets away with it."

"I'll drink to that," Emma agrees, producing a dusty glass bottle from her pocket. She'd swiped it from the kitchen on her way up, figuring they might need something to take the edge off. She takes a swig and cringes internally but swallows the swill anyway. It's vile - true pirate's rum, clearly - but comforting enough. She holds the bottle out to Regina and chuckles at the distaste on the brunette's face.

Regina takes the bottle anyway, grimacing a little before throwing back a healthy amount. She splutters. "That is truly horrible," she groans but smiles anyway.

Taking the bottle back, Emma shrugs and smirks. "Yo ho, a pirate's life for me," she jokes wearily, taking another mouthful.

A laugh bubbles out of Regina, and she shakes her head at the ridicule of it all: on the way to Neverland aboard a pirate ship, sharing a bottle of rum with the saviour who is trying to comfort her after all they've been though.

Regina begins to relax a little as the rum does its work and Emma continues to chat nonsense. In this moment, they're not the saviour and the evil queen - they're simply Emma and Regina.

An alliance between the two might be possible after all.