Huge shoutout to Brittany for killing me with reactions to this chapter - I'm still laughing. Chapter 3 of awesome Evil Charmingness. A certain someone wakes up this chapter...

It's been a week since reading to David became a regular thing. They're almost finished with his childhood favourite, much to Henry's liking since he's been eyeing up the sturdy book and it's colourful illustrations for a couple of days now.

Emma's great - better than great - and with quite the sense of humour about her as well; it's a clumsy humour, little trips and bumps followed by colourful expletives that make Regina snort. Emma and Henry are two peas in a pod, they could be siblings with how they bounce off of each other, even sharing similar body language and the exact same eye roll whenever Whale mutters something about the room being crowded under his breath.

"Finished yet?" Emma asks, walking into David's room with two very full brown paper bags - from Granny's of course, the only place in town to order lunch, but Regina will take that over anymore alien looking, lime flavoured jello.

"Not yet," Regina exhales softly, closing the book and balancing it against her leg cast. "Henry made me promise not to get too far ahead without him." She nods towards the bag that's soaked a little on the bottom corner, asking, "Let me guess, another greasy mess of cheese and carbs?"

Emma chuckles, shaking her head. "I bring you lunch and you have the nerve to nitpick at my eating habits?" Regina laughs gently, shrugging away the accusation playfully when Emma sasses her back with a simple raise of an eyebrow. "Don't worry, I brought your rabbit food."

"You're a saint," Regina praises, happily taking the container and fork. It's nothing overly fancy, but Granny can make a mean club salad. She takes a bite and hums happily. "This is so good."

"I'll never understand it," Emma sniggers, tucking herself into the chair across the bed, taking a hearty bite from her soggy bread and cheese, and with her mouth full, mumbles a barely decipherable, "Grilled cheese soothes the soul."

"What's David's favourite?" Regina asks, nervous about maybe overstepping; she's so curious about the man who saved her life but hates the idea that she might press too hard with questions.

"Burgers," Emma nods firmly, barely a beat between the question and answer. "Though, he does love Granny's lasagna. Me? Well, I think it could be better."

"I make a great lasagna," Regina tells her, sighing into the plastic container on her lap. Cooking has become a bit of an escape for her - something to keep her hands busy when she wasn't slaving around at her mother's every wish, not that that's much of an issue anymore.

"You should make it for him when he wakes up," Emma says, nonchalantly muttering off that, "He'd probably fall in love with you." Regina chuckles, a soft thing at Emma's ridiculousness before they fall into a comfortable silence while enjoying their polar opposite lunches.

"You know, you haven't told me much about yourself," Emma says with her mouth half full, nearing the end of her sandwich. "Please tell me your favourite food isn't lettuce because my greasy heart couldn't take it."

Shrugging, Regina takes another small bite after an exhale. "There isn't much to know about me." She's lying. Right to her new friend's face, but it's much easier than rattling off the complex life she actually lives on a day to day basis.

"I doubt that's true," Emma begs to differ. "What do you do for a living?"

"Ah," Regina huffs a stressed breath out into the air, "that's a little complicated."

"Complicated isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"Well, in my case complicated means recently unemployed." Regina isn't sure if what she said came off too harshly, but Emma's eyes bug open while her face begins to drip with guilt, an I'm sorry falling off her lips in seconds. "It's okay," Regina assures, waving any and all unnecessary guilt from the room. "Truly. I made a decision that I thought was best for me, so I suppose it's not all bad."

"That you thought was best for you?" Emma presses curiously, but is startled and interrupted by the loud opening of the door. Henry has come to Regina's rescue, but if only his face was as bright as she's grown fond of. He looks distraught, almost close to tears. "What's wrong, kid?" Emma asks.

"Ask Whale," Henry grumbles, climbing onto the edge of David's bed carefully, huffing into slumped crossed legs.

Regina notices how Emma's face drops as she discards the remains of her sandwich into the brown paper bag on the floor. She leaves the room wordlessly with a squeeze to the shoulder of a very upset Henry sitting mere inches from Regina.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Regina asks him kindly, careful not to tip him over the edge where those glistening tears in his eyes are concerned. "Or we can continue reading and not talk about it?"

Henry curls his knees up against his chest, "My new treatment isn't working..."

"Oh, sweetheart," she frowns sadly, "I'm sorry." Regina rests her hands on the leather face of the book still perched on her thighs after shifting her barely touched salad onto the side table. "Dr Whale doesn't even have the guts to tell me."

"If he didn't tell you then how do you know it's not working?"

"Because nothing's different," he moans. "My charts are the same and it's been two weeks. I'm still sick."

"That's not a very long time. Maybe it's just being stubborn and waiting until the last second to work," she says hopefully. She rolls in her wheelchair so she can reach his ankle, giving it a light squeeze. "There's still time."

Henry drops his chin to his knees, making sure to keep his eye contact with her, pondering, "Are you not asking because you're being polite?" Regina tilts her head at his question, then he explains, "You haven't asked me what I have, and you haven't asked Emma because I checked."

Regina would be lying if she said she hasn't been curious, but something in her gut kept it at bay. "I suppose politeness is up there on my list of reasons. But I also think that your health is something very personal and that if you wanted me to know, you would tell me when you were ready."

"That's fair," Henry nods.

"Do you want to tell me?"

"Nah, not yet." Regina doesn't know if the pang in her chest is merited, but it dissolves immediately when he explains, "I like that you don't look at me with those pity eyes."

Regina chuckles, "Pity eyes?"

"You'll see," Henry smirks ever so slightly, and a warmth spreads through her chest - a smirk beats the pained frown that was painted there before.

And like clockwork, Emma wanders back inside, with those pity ridden eyes that Henry warned her about. "Sorry, kid," Emma offers, rubbing against his back while Henry rolls his eyes playfully for only Regina to see and mouths told you in her direction. "You know, treatment doesn't always work right away. Your body needs time to let it work its magic."

Henry sits up again, "That's what Regina said."

Emma smacks her knees as she sits down again, "Well then, it's settled. Two amazing minds can't be wrong, can they?"

"I guess not," Henry grins hopefully, and then out of nowhere he jostles a little in front of them, as if something caught him by surprise. He doesn't say anything at first, but then it happens again.

"Whoa…" Henry comments, looking at the end of David's bed, startled, and back to the pair of them with his mouth agape. "He just kicked me."

"What?" Emma asks, standing up immediately to tower over David's face, running a comforting hand over his forehead.

Regina holds her breath, her heart ceasing a few beats, and just as Emma straightens up again, sighing defeatedly as if it would be all too good to be true, Regina catches a twitch in David's hand, his fingers clenching to a fist and then relaxing. "Look," Regina breathes, pointing at his hand, and it does it again.

"David?" Emma asks, "David, can you hear me?" He groans and the room erupts in a relieved sigh. "David?" She's asking him question after question, desperate for any answer, any sound. "He's opening his eyes…"

He croaks an inaudible sound, and he coughs quite violently, obviously parched, but Emma's coaxing him all the way.

"Is she okay?" David asks dryly, coughing again slightly. "Regina?"

Emma sobs a cry through a smile, smacking a loving kiss to his forehead. "See for yourself," she tells him giddily before running off to get Whale.

Regina fights through the healing aches in her body desperately, pushing off her chair with Henry's help until she's standing straight and looking down at her saviour. "Hi…" she says softly, staring down at him gratefully and he replies breathlessly with the same sentiment.

And finally after almost a week of waiting, her plaguing question has finally been answered; "They're blue." She smiles down at him, chuckling almost when his eyes narrow in confusion. "Your eyes. They're blue."