Goodness Gracious
The Evil Queen.
Regina Mills was many things, and, being an incumbent leader in both lands she had resided, calm and composed were one them. She was a master of feigning fake smiles and empty laughter, so good she should be given an award.
So of course, she acted like it was an acceptable fact when people called her names on the streets. Deep down, she thought, maybe it was.
After all, no deed could completely wash the blood off her hands.
No atonement could completely strip the 'Evil' from her title.
"Is that not the tyrant?"
"Sometimes I wonder why she's still alive."
"The Savior's too kind. She's a monster."
The Queen—or rather, the Mayor, in this world—kept her chin up high and her steps firm as she passed the streets, paying no attention to the whispers she had heard. A part of Regina scoffed at the two women who were loudly whispering towards each other about her. Please, with this volume, might as well scream your words across the realms, she thought, trying to shrug away the accusations.
But, as always, it stung. Like a stab wound, spreading through her nerves, reaching the tips of her fingers and the brink of her eyes. There were always going to be talks like this. Talks that antagonized her, belittled her, condemned her existence. For some, she would forever be the bad guy, the villain, the one that should not be named, no matter how much she'd redeemed herself.
"Maybe she's just acting nice, trying to find the perfect timing to pounce back and throw us into misery once more."
Sometimes she thought that her atonement would never be enough.
If only I was Emma, this won't happen.
Regina blinked, once, twice, trying to shake off the dark thought from her head. Hatred towards the Princess was unfair, especially for something she did not do.
But it's true! You're just as human as she is. She strayed, too. Only difference was that you started off your career as a villain, and she was first known as the savior.
Guess first impression really do matter, huh.
Shut up.
She sighed, composing her thoughts. There was no points on dwelling reality. Regina realized this early on at life. It was better to acknowledge that life was going to always be shitty for her, and move on. So she walked faster, away from the salacious comments. After all, she had more pressing matters than petty sideway talks, even if they were about her.
Storybrooke High School was a big complex, a contrast to other educational institute. Perhaps due to the fact that folklore fairytales were always about youthful prince and princesses in their teenagers. Regina entered the building with firm steps, eager to reach the principal's office as soon as she could.
"Ah, Mrs.—Ms. Mills?"
The principal, a cheerful-looking chubby woman, was Mrs. Kettlepot. She was, true to her name, a kettle pot in the realm of enchanted forests, one of the magical equipment that Rumplestiltskins used to have. Upon seeing Regina, however, Mrs. Kettlepot's smile faltered, as if she was disappointed.
"Mrs. Kettlepot," Regina, pretending not to notice the lack of interest from the principal, offered a hand, which Mrs. Kettlepot took warily. Regina couldn't find herself to care enough, though, once her eyes had finally landed to her son and the growing bruise over his right knuckle.
What happened?
The Principal cleared her throat. "When Henry said that he was going to call his mother, I was, uh, expecting Mrs. Jones." She said, tone somewhat displeased.
You're not his mother, was all that Regina could hear. You don't deserve to be his mother.
"I have two moms. You can't just assume which one will I call." Henry spoke for the first time since her arrival, his tone annoyed and defiant. He glanced away when Regina and Mrs. Kettlepot turned at him. Regina's smile bloomed at her son's defense over her eligibility.
"Of course," Mrs. Kettlepot was seemingly eager to drop the subject, and she turned back to Regina's attention. "Mrs. Mills, we have contacted you today due to a very unfortunate incident in which your son was involved." She struggled to find her next sentence, "He had... attacked... one of his peers."
Regina turned to Henry, then to his blue-ish hand. Henry, who would never hurt a fly even if he was paid for it, actually gathered up the willingness to punch someone? "Who did he punch?" Regina asked, curiosity getting into her. There must be something grave for Henry to actually resort into physical means.
"Prince David from Atlantia." Seeing Regina's confusion, she hastily added, "Ariel's son."
"Oh." Regina said to herself. She did not recall much of the mermaid and her prince, so she couldn't really make any pictures on how their son would be like.
"Yes. It appears that the blow was pretty severe, enough to send Dave to the hospital." Said Mrs. Kettlepot timidly. "We condemn this act of violence and we do not know where did Henry pick this up from..." The tone of Mrs. Kettlepot's words were clear, then, to Regina; it was a quiet accusation, and indirect form of speech that roughly translated as, 'You taught him things like this, didn't you? you tainted him, didn't you?'
Regina fought the sinking feeling on her stomach and instead focused on Henry. "Did he hurt you, Henry?" She asked, softly, eyes looking straight into Henry's. The boy shook his head. "Did he hurt anybody else that needed your defense?" Again with the shake. "Did he—"
"Ms. Mills," Mrs. Kettlepot interrupted rather impatiently, "Once again, we do not encourage this behavior regardless of what his victim had done—"
"He insulted you, mom." Henry suddenly spoke, surprising both women. "So I lost it."
Both Regina and the headmistress were quite speechless at the revelation. "Insulted me on what, Henry?" Regina coaxed him once more, but Henry was once again silent, turning to face the other side. To him, the discussion was finished.
He ended up with three week's worth of detention. Regina shook hands with Mrs. Kettlepot before hastily leading Henry away from the school.
"You didn't bring your car?" Henry finally spoke when they passed the parking lot straight onto the exit.
"Well, look who's decided to talk," Regina replied, "It broke down, Honey. One of Robin's merry men decided to tinker it without my knowledge." She looked at the boy, now a teen, who refused to look back at her. "Now, can you tell me what happened?"
"What's there to tell?" Henry said, eyes still facing the street. "He insulted you. I punched him. End of story." He shrugged nonchalantly. But Regina could see the square shoulder and the tense pose. She'd been his mother for more than fifteen years, after all.
"Henry, people insult me all the time." She said lightly. "It's not as if this is a new fact for you." She stopped, gently took Henry's chin to turn his face at her. "You know you can tell me everything, right?"
It was a long silence before he finally replied, quietly, "He was congratulating me, mom." He looked down to his shoes, fingers fidgeting. "Said now that my birth mother has a husband I can finally be freed from the devil—he meant you—and have a real, normal family." The last part was murmured so quietly that Regina barely caught it.
But she did, and, even though the statement was coming from a barely-teenage-boy who didn't know any better, it still tore her heart into tiny little pieces. "Oh, Henry." She said, hugging him, "I'm sorry you had to hear that." She said, the rest of her apology went unspoken. I'm sorry my past got into you. I'm sorry you would have to deal with this because of things I caused a long time ago.
"No, mom, I'm sorry." Henry's words were muffled but it got into Regina just right. She released the hug, confused. "I'm sorry that you have to endure things like that for so long that you have to get used to it." He sighed, "hearing him say things like that... it got me so very angry." He went quiet for a moment, before adding, "and kind of guilty."
Regina caressed his head affectionately. He was just as tall as she was now, give or take a few inches. But for her, he will always be that little boy in his blue baby blanket, just wanting to be loved. "Sweetheart..." She spoke, softly, "what are you feeling guilty for? These talks are not your fault. If anything, it's the consequences of my past actions."
"But that's it, mom. It's the past." By this they had resumed walking, Regina attentively listening to her son. "You saved this town countless times with mom, and yet people refused to see the good heart that you have." He ruffled his hair, "reminds me of myself, really."
"Yourself?" Regina said, incredulously. Her son, who was very loving and caring, who always made sure that she had eaten and always gloated to people about the fact that he had the Mayor as a mother, felt like he was just the same as people who were feeding the gossip mill about her?
"My ten-year-old self," Henry clarified, "who looked past your kind smiles and midnight snacks just because some lousy old magic book told me you were the Evil Queen realms away. I ignored your love to me and categorized it as brainwashing." He looked down to his feet, not wanting to meet her eyes. "For that, I am forever guilty."
Speechless, Regina was at loss on what to say.
"Sometimes I hate people so much because of the things they talked about you. You proved yourself over and over and over again to them, and yet they still turn a blind eye." He huffed, frustrated. "People here talk lots about unity and second chances. Well, if there's anyone deserving a second chance, it's you, mom. I just—" He gritted his teeth, "can't see why people won't see that."
If it was possible, Regina's love for her son just bloomed a thousand times over. "Henry, love, I am grateful that you feel like that." She said, brushing his head, "But none of the people really forgets the first impression I gave to them. I still raided their houses. Stole their properties. Hurt their loved ones." She explained, taking his hand. "You can't heal that kind of scar, Henry. The mark will always be there for the rest of your life. So I have learned to live with it."
Henry finally looked back at her, incredulous. "You're... okay... with people dissing you?" He said, surprise coloring his tone.
"Whether I agree or not, it will always be there. So I compromised, as long as it's not my important people like you—" She poked his nose playfully, "I can tolerate it."
Henry smiled, the first smile she'd seen this day. "You're a really nice person, mom. Everybody else can go home if they say otherwise." He grinned, and Regina snaked an arm around his shoulder.
"Aw, baby, thank you," She said, grinning as well. "You're still grounded, though."
"Ah, mom!"
fin.
A/N: I fixed some of the grammar and spelling errors. Forgive me, readers, English isn't my first language.
For vivaciousregal, thank you for the review! I really appreciate you complimenting my story :)))