Chapter Text
“A magical snowball fight competition?” Regina asks warily.
“Yeah!” Henry holds up the pamphlet, yet again, absolutely brimming with hopeful anticipation. “Well, no. It's not actually just snowball fights. Not… even mostly, but that’s one of them, because it takes place over the holidays. So, like, it’s on theme.”
Regina’s stomach churns at the thought of saying no to him, but she wants to. Desperately. “Henry… I’m not sure if—”
“You have to have an adult partner to participate,” Henry adds. “That’s the only way I can enter. It’s in pairs. We’d go up against about twelve other pairings first. Then the best six after that, then two teams pair up against two others, and whichever pair wins, those two fight for the winners!”
“Yes… you explained already,” she says, humoring him. “I’m just not sure if—”
“Mom, you and I can win. You’re the best fighter in the whole world. Your magic is amazing. This will be so fun to do together! This is what I want for Christmas.”
Well, she can’t really say no to that.
…
…
The competition—which Regina is not thrilled about, but frankly, is slowly coming around to the idea of—is being held in a magical town in Vermont. Regina didn’t know that there even was a magical town in Vermont, but it’s beautiful. Henry is exuberant, running up ahead of Regina and hollering out about various things that he finds before running back to her, and then he’s off again. Regina can’t help but smile; he hasn’t looked like this since he was about ten, and it’s nice to see the usually—slightly—sullen teenager enjoying himself.
It’s when they are scooping out the cafeteria, in Henry’s words, that Regina sees her sister and niece. She stops dead in her tracks, turns and stares over at Henry, glaring at him. He doesn’t even look the slightest bit sheepish. “Aunt Z told me about the competition, Mom. Obviously she was gonna be here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before we got here?”
“Because then you might say no. Because you and Aunt Z don’t fight each other anymore, and I thought it would be really fun. You can have fun fighting her that’s not actual fighting!” he exclaims, clearly trying to amp her up as well.
Zelena makes her way over to them, a deeply annoying smirk on her face. Regina opts to ignore her completely, and instead, bends down and opens her arms as eleven year old Robyn runs into them. “Hi Auntie Regina,” she says, burrowing into her neck. “I missed you!”
“I missed you too, cariño,” she says, smiling. After a beat, Regina looks up at her sister, tugging Robyn into her side. “Henry didn’t tell me that you two were coming.”
Zelena’s eyebrow quirks up. “Just us?” the smirk on her face turns a bit sadistic. “Or did he tell you that Em—”
“Mom!” Henry quickly interrupts. “We should check out which cabin is ours!”
Regina side eyes her son, but decides to leave it for now. Weird behavior has become common from him, lately. “Alright.” She kisses the top of Robyn’s head and gives Zelena a lighthearted glare. “See you two later?”
“Oh,” Zelena says with far too much glee. “Definitely. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
…
…
Regina can hear a young girl’s voice as they walk into their rented cabin. “Henry, are you sure this is the number that—”
A tiny blonde sprints into the front room and flings herself over the top of the couch, attempting some sort of horrifying black flip. Regina reacts on instinct—throwing up a bubble of air to cushion her fall, least she roll off the couch and break her neck. “Woah,” the girl says, in awe as she looks down at herself, suspended in the air. “When did you learn how to do that, Ma?”
“Do what?” a familiar voice calls out.
No.
That voice is not one Regina ever thought she would hear again. She has imagined it so many times over the years—she must simply be imagining it, now. That has to be it. Regina goes absolutely still, like prey. A primal instinct she hasn’t felt from herself since Mother was alive. Beside her, Henry grabs at her arm. “Okay, Mom, don’t be mad, please—” he quickly whispers.
Before Regina can strangle her son, or move, or run out of the cabin, Emma Swan walks into the room and jolts to a stop at the sight of them. “Oh,” she breathes out. “Fuck.”
“Swear!” the girl calls out happily. “That’s a dollar!”
“Emma?” Regina feels her whole body going cold with panic. She hasn’t seen Emma in almost thirteen years. Not since the divorce. Not since they agreed that Regina would have full custody of Henry. Not since Emma packed up her things and ran, never once looking back.
“What’s going on?” Emma asks, sounding nearly as baffled and upset as Regina feels. She’s never been particularly subtle with her emotions, or a good liar—not when it matters, not when it’s about her actual life—so Regina takes that at face value and turns towards her son.
“Henry Daniel Mills,” Regina hisses. “What did you do?”
“Okay! Okay!” Henry starts to yell, hands up in front of him. To his credit, he genuinely looks apologetic. “Hear me out, I wanted to meet my birth Mom.”
“You already knew her. I showed you the pictures of—”
“I know,” he cuts her off quickly, clearly trying to get a handle on the situation. Emma is still just… standing there, staring at Regina. Regina absolutely cannot deal with that right now, so she gives Henry her full attention. “But I was a toddler and I don’t really remember much. I know that we all agreed. But actually you all agreed. I was three. I wasn’t included in the conversation. And I saw that she was doing this competition with her daughter on accident, and then, I just thought… I mean…” he trails off helplessly, staring at Emma, clearly he did not think this very far through. Impulsive actions—it’s genetic. Unfortunately.
Wait. “Her daughter?” Regina breathes out, eyes flashing back over to the girl that her magic is still suspending in a protective bubble. She turns to actually study the girl, now—hair the same shade of blonde as Emma, soft curls and all, except it falls just a bit past her shoulders. Her eyes are a beautiful warm brown with golden flecks, expressive and warily trained on Regina. She could be anywhere between seven and a small eleven, but if Regina was to guess, she’s on the younger side of that. Regina finally turns back and looks at Emma. “You have a daughter?”
“Hope,” Emma says, looking dazed.
“What?”
“My name,” the girl supplies. “Who are you? Are you the one who did—” she points down at herself, still partially immobile, “—this?”
“I didn’t want you to hit your head,” is all that Regina says in response, ending the spell.
“Henry,” Emma says, voice cracking. “You’re so big.”
Henry turns to her, grinning cheekily, but suddenly looking much younger. “Well, yeah. I’m sixteen now. And I had a growth spurt last year.” Regina’s lip purses as she looks over at him, still hating that she has to reach up to hug him, now. “Mom hates it,” he adds, gaining confidence from Regina’s reaction.
“Yeah,” Emma chuckles. “She would.”
Hope walks over to stand beside Emma, and the resemblance between them is staggering once they’re side by side.
“You have a daughter?” Regina exclaims, again. She can’t make her brain move past that, it’s easier to focus on than… anything else right now.
Emma loops an arm across the girl’s shoulders and grins, hip checking her. Hope rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue at Emma. “Yep,” Emma says, popping the ‘p’ as she turns back to Regina, looking… proud, casual, easily settled into motherhood. Gods, Regina tried to—
She turns on her heel, grabs hold of Henry’s arm and yanks him towards the door. “We’re leaving,” she announces.
“Wait, wait, Mom!”
“Regina, you can’t just—”
Regina whirls around and nearly levels a fireball directly at Emma’s head. “You don’t get to say a single thing about what I can and cannot do. You’re one to talk about running away from a conversation.” Her words have the intended affect; Emma’s mouth snaps shut and she looks like a kicked puppy. She also looks like a very guilty one. “Henry,” Regina says, voice nothing but steel. “Now.”
“But this is our cabin,” he protests weakly.
“Clearly, it’s not.”
…
…
Apparently, it is.
They overbooked. They are just so sorry, but it is one of our biggest? Perhaps you can share? Regina nearly commits three murders before Zelena finds them and shoves Robyn towards Henry as she hauls Regina off to a bar.
“Did you know this was his plan?” Regina snaps.
“Of course I did.” Zelena shrugs and orders them two shots, knocking her own back and then grinning at Regina. “Pretty great surprise, huh?”
Regina hasn’t considered actually killing Zelena for years, now, but she might have to do it. This might be the final straw. Zelena sees that thought settle on her face and pushes the shot towards Regina like it’s a loaded gun.
“In my defense, you have been a huge pain in the ass for the last decade, pining after her. I had to do something.”
“She’s been gone for thirteen years,” Regina snaps, knocking back the shot. Zelena orders two more. “You can’t even get that right. I swear to all the gods, Zelena—”
“I have my math just fine, thank you. The first three years you were a rage infested monster around anyone who wasn’t Henry. Then you lost all steam and pinned for a decade. I can’t believe that Mother thought you could access your anger better than me. Please, I can hold a grudge for longer than three years.”
“So can I,” Regina snaps. “Or does the entire twenty plus year curse, and the near decade of trying to kill Snow White that lead up to it count for nothing, now?”
Zelena waves her off and orders a third round of shots. “You can hold a grudge. I never said that you can’t. But your temper flares hotter and also quicker than anyone I know. Like a match striking, quick and over and done with. Mostly, underneath it all, you’re a total softie. Plus, you know… your step-daughter became your mother in law, after all that, so.”
Regina very carefully and skillfully burns off both of Zelena’s eyebrows.
“Ahhh!” she screeches. “You absolute bitch.” In retaliation, like a complete and utter grown up, Zelena punches her in the boob.
“Are you kidding me?” Regina hisses, holding onto her breast in shock—and pain. “Are you an infant?”
“You BURNT OFF MY EYEBROWS!”
“Oh, woah,” the bartender says, their fourth round of shots held up in each hand as he stares at Zelena’s face. “That’s… um, not really your look,” he says, not unkindly.
Regardless, Zelena downs the shot and then gets them summarily banned from the bar for life. Somehow, the bartender is still apologizing profusely for not thinking she looks great without eyebrows as he on no uncertain terms kicks them out.
They walk slowly back towards the resort, rows and rows of fancy cabins ahead of them. Halfway through, Zelena loops her arm into Regina’s—claiming they need to keep themselves steady—but all is forgiven. Eyebrow-wise, at least. Regina is still holding out on her end.
“Listen to me,” Zelena says, all trace of teasing and mockery gone from her tone. “You miss her. You’ve missed her for years, but you’re too stubborn and too afraid of rejection to do anything about it but pine away miserably. She made you happy. Gods, know why. I mean, she’s hot, I get that, but—”
“Stop talking,” Regina demands.
“Why don’t you just try?”
“Because she left me, Zelena,” Regina snaps. “She ruined my life, tried to take my son, forced friendship upon me, very clumsily wooed me, and then asked me to marry her. She broke half a dozen curses with me before casting another one herself, messing with all our ages, timelines, and lives to a degree of which I never could fix and then she left me. I got divorce papers in the mail and a toddler, again.”
“Toddler Henry 2.0 was adorable and you loved getting to do it all over again, don’t you dare lie.”
Regina pushes her sister into a snowbank rather than dignify that with a response. The two of them drunk together often tends to bring out their most base, childish impulses. There is a reason they don’t do this too often without some sort of buffer.
Marian finds them, because, of course she does. “I can’t say that I’m surprised,” she laughs, crossing her arms as she levels a lighthearted, though reproving, look at Regina.
“She started it,” Regina says, glaring down at her sister.
“To be fair, this time, I did,” Zelena says, after puffing out a mouthful of snow. “However, burnt eyebrows and now this, I draw the line at anything else.”
“You burnt off her eyebrows!?” Marian’s reproving look intensifies as she moves over to help Zelena up, brushing snow off her clothes. Their relationship is… strange. Sometimes, it seems as though they were always the co-parents, not Marian and Robin. Regina has grilled her sister and Marian both about it separately over the years, but they swear it’s all platonic between them. Ever since the last curse, though… raising Roland and Robyn together has made her wonder. But perhaps she’s just shifting her own experiences onto them unfairly.
“Where’s Ro?” Regina asks, hoping to shift the subject.
Marian gives her a look that says okay, I’ll bite—for now. “Out with Henry and Robyn, gorging themselves on hot chocolate and Christmas cookies in the lodge.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Regina answers, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of her tone.
“Shall we go and rescue our children, then?” Zelena says with a wink.
Regina walks alongside the two of them down the lane, not at all sober. Technically, all three of them are single mothers, but they have each other. Their children are siblings. It’s a small difference, but it is a significant one. Despite it often feeling like it’s the three of them and their children against the world, despite technically all being family, there is always the slightest undercurrent of Regina and Henry being on the outside—of the four of them a separate unit in of itself.
She shouldn’t drink with Zelena, she is always far too morose whenever she drinks with her sister.
“How about the kids all pile into our cabin for tonight?” Marian suggests, once they’ve collected the sugar addicted monsters. “Then maybe you and Emma can talk about—”
“She has a daughter,” Regina says, cutting that idea off at the start.
“Oh…” Marian’s eyes blow wide with surprise. Apparently, Henry hadn’t dropped that bomb in her presence. From the looks on Robyn and Roland’s faces though, he definitely told his cousins about his new half sibling.
Henry has a sister, clangs around in her head. Emma had a baby with someone else. She is nowhere near drunk enough for all of this, not by a long shot. Regina is about to open up her mouth and tell Henry that they are simply going home. She is going to teleport them to the nearest realm portal and they are going. Christmas will be spent as usual, in Storybrooke, just the two of them. But Henry turns a pleading gaze onto her before she can open her mouth. She sighs. She’s never been able to deny him much, not when it’s something that she can technically give, that won’t hurt him.
(But it will hurt her).
“We should all just get some sleep,” is what Regina says instead. Henry’s face lights up and Regina’s stomach clenches even further.
She walks into the cabin like she belongs here, because she is paying for it—at a reduced price, she had been adamant about that, at the very least. It’s late enough that she is banking on Emma and Hope already being asleep. Hope cannot be more than thirteen, at the very most—simply time-wise—and Regina doubts she is anywhere near that.
“Your scheme gets you the delightful privilege of having to share a bed with your mother,” Regina drawls. “If you even think about kicking me, it will grant you the privilege of cushions on the floor.”
Henry gapes at her in horror. She wouldn’t ever put him on the floor, no matter how angry she is with him. The couch, yes; he’s young. She will not subject herself to sleeping on a couch at her age—regardless of how much her physical body has been affected by various curses over the years.
“There’s a picture,” Emma chuckles from her place on the couch. Regina nearly jumps out of her skin at the startling presence. “Especially now that he’s got those gangly legs. If I remember right, you told me he kicked at least until he was about eight, last time. Right?”
Regina does not respond. She is not sober enough to keep her wits about her. Instead, her plan is to ignore Emma’s presence entirely for the duration of this competition. She’s lived with people she hated and ignored before—direct relatives of Emma, in fact. She’s used to it by now. A bit out of practice, maybe, but she can manage.
“Bed, now,” Regina orders, gently directing Henry towards the second bedroom. “It’s late.”
Wisely, Henry goes without complaint, shooting Emma an eager but sheepish look as he passes by her.
“Night, kid,” Emma calls out softly.
Regina speed walks past her too. Or, she tries; she’s… still not sober and the coffee table jumps out and throws itself into her way. “Fuck,” she hisses as the pain radiates up her shin.
“Careful there,” Emma teases. “What’d it do to you?”
Regina does not engage. She hobbles angrily towards the bedroom.
“Regina, please,” Emma says, the exhaustion, hesitation, and pleading all evident in her tone. Regina used to love hearing those words come out of Emma’s mouth. Regina, please, more, harder, please, please, Regina, please. This context makes them come out sour and ragged in a way that is not pleasing at all. Regina quickly pushes into the bedroom and shuts the door on Emma’s expectant, longing face.
…
…
When she wakes up the next morning, she has to use magic to remove her massive hangover. There’s a small bruise blooming on her shin from a single hard kick from Henry before he woke up and rolled over, mumbling an apology. She’s alone when she wakes again for real, and she can hear soft voices coming from what must be the kitchen.
Part of Regina wants to teleport out of the house and escape any possible interaction, but she’s not going to abandon Henry like that.
She showers, dresses, and sucks in a deep breath before stalking into the room with her head held high.
“Mom!” Henry says, noticing her. “Emma made pancakes.”
“Hm,” Regina says, not bothering to look over at the stovetop. She’s seen Emma’s pancakes before—they’re not much to write home about. Instead, she pours herself a mug of coffee and only looks in Henry’s direction, despite the fact that Emma is clearly trying to catch her eye.
“Morning,” she says, tentative.
“Henry,” Regina sips her coffee, ignoring Emma. “I think it would be best if we went home.”
“What!?” he blanches, caught off guard since they slept here last night. “No, but you said—”
“I said that I would think about it, and I’ve thought about it.”
“You don’t have to do that, Regina,” Emma says.
“Pack up your things,” she says, entirely ignoring the fact that Emma is even speaking.
“But, Mom—”
“Regina, can I talk to you in the other room?” Emma asks.
“We’ll leave in twenty minutes,” Regina says, eyes on Henry and Henry alone.
“Regina,” Emma stresses. “Can we please talk?”
“I’ll meet you outside,” Regina says to Henry, and then turns on her heel and walks out onto the small porch.
True to form, Emma follows her.
“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” she says, voice clipped and full of annoyance. “You don’t have to take Henry away just because—”
“I didn’t want to do this in the first place,” Regina says, cutting her off. “I’m certainly not going to subject myself to this nonsense now.”
“Regina, come on let’s just talk about—”
“Last I knew, you weren’t interested in talking about anything with me,” Regina snaps. “I got the message loud and clear when the divorce papers and relinquishment of custody appeared in the mail. Nary a single actual word from you. Legal jargon and nothing else. Your cell disconnected—it was crystal clear.”
Emma flinches as though Regina has hit her. “I—” she sucks in a deep breath. “Regina, I’m sorry.”
“I am not having this conversation with you.”
“Please—”
“Henry!” Regina calls out, “move quickly, please!” She is doing fairly well maintaining a facade of steely calm, but it’s not going to last much for longer.
Emma reaches out and grabs at Regina’s forearm, and they both freeze at the contact. For her part, Emma seems utterly surprised that she’s even done it, staring down at her hand resting on Regina’s arm like it’s not connected to the rest of her. Regina wants to yank herself away and she wants to throw herself into Emma’s arms.
“Ma!” Hope calls, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “Can I have three donuts?”
“Huh? Oh… uh, sure,” Emma sputters, still staring down at her hand.
“What?” Regina jerks back to life. “No, she cannot have three donuts on top of five pancakes, she’ll get sick.”
“I won’t!” Hope protests.
“Um… wait,” Emma turns and looks at Hope, finally finally moving her hand away from Regina. Her arm feels like it’s been scalded but she misses the contact immediately. “Where do you think these donuts are coming from?” she asks. “I didn’t know we had any,” she sounds disappointed by this, as though someone has been hiding donuts from her. Typical.
Hope rolls her eyes. “There in the lodge.”
“Oh,” Emma nods. “Okay.”
“Not okay!” Regina says.
Hope turns to her with a frown. “My mom said yes.”
“No… I… wait,” Emma shakes her head, looking back and forth between them.
Henry appears behind Hope. “Can I have three donuts too?”
“Absolutely not. Are you packed?”
“No,” he says, glaring at Regina and crossing his arms. “I want to stay and compete. You promised.”
“That was before I learned that this entire scheme was all an elaborate lie.”
“I didn’t lie!”
“Mom, you’re the greatest fighter in the world. I want to fight with you and me together. It will be so much fun. This is all I want for Christmas,” Regina says, pitching her voice deep and cracky to sound like her son. He has the good sense to look guilty.
“Oh, kid… that is kind of a low blow,” Emma says, looking disappointed at him.
“I meant it! It wasn’t a lie!”
“Is she a good fighter?” Hope asks, looking Regina up and down curiously.
“Yes!” Henry says. “The best! I wasn’t lying! I just… had other reasons why I also wanted to come here.”
“That you conveniently left out.”
“Because you would have said no!”
“Yes, I would have. I am saying no.”
“Why is everybody so tense?” Hope asks, looking between the three of them.
“I… it’s complicated,” Emma says with a sigh.
“Your mom left my mom and now everything is awkward,” Henry supplies.
“Henry!” Emma sputters. Regina is both pleased and saddened to see that Henry is sort of glaring at Emma. He might want to see her, might want to fix things, but he is still on Regina’s side, above all else. Emma left him, too. Their lives have been vastly different, this go around—Regina has been honest with him from day one.
Hope scrutinizes all three of them. “Left?” she asks, looking at Emma in confusion. “Is this your wife? You told me that you two just broke up?”
Regina scoffs, she can’t help it.
“I… look,” Emma starts, trying to somehow placate all three of them.
“Henry,” Regina interjects, “we’re leaving.”
“Mom, please. I want to stay.”
“You can stay, Regina,” Emma says. “We’ll go.”
“What!? Ma! I want to compete,” Hope protests. “This is the first year that I’m old enough!”
“Not this year,” Emma says, looking contrite but firm. “We’ll go, Regina. You two can stay.”
Before anyone can say anything else, Hope starts to cry. She looks furious and embarrassed by her own reaction, but she doesn’t argue any further, just turns away and runs back into the cabin in tears. It tugs at something awful inside of Regina's gut.
“No,” she croaks. “You don’t have to leave. Let her stay.”
“Regina—”
“We’ll all stay,” she says. “We can ignore each other and be civil for a week. And then go home.”
Emma looks horrified by that prospect. “But—”
Regina sets her now empty mug down on top of the porch railing, and walks down the steps to find her sister.
…
…
Per the rules of the competition, every pair has to practice at least two hours in the arena, under the judges supervision, before everything officially starts. Regina can’t think of a better way to avoid Emma and grabs Henry and makes for a secluded part of the—incredibly vast—multi-level arena. Vermont's budget is far superior to her little town in Maine, it seems. She spent the majority of the morning at Zelena’s shared cabin with Marian, cooking breakfast for Robyn and Roland and ignoring both Marian and Zelena’s constant pointed looks.
This week is going to be exhausting.
Regina isn’t above poking at Henry just a little, now that he’s old enough to both know better than to ambush her like this, and talented and secure enough in his abilities and in their relationship to take it. She makes him dodge endless fireballs for the better part of twenty minutes until he is sweaty and properly chastised.
“I am sorry,” he says, again, once she’s decided that he’s had enough, pressing a water bottle into his hands.
“I know,” she sighs. “I forgive you. I’m not angry at you, sweetheart,” her brow arches. “Not anymore.”
He grins, now that he knows for a fact it’s Emma and not him where her ire lies. “But… I mean, it’s not terrible to see her again, is it? You… I mean, you two were in love. You raised me. You got married!”
“And then Emma left and sent divorce papers after another curse was enacted,” Regina says, cutting off his romantic dreams of conducting some sort of parent trap. He watched that stupid Lindsay Lohan film too many times. She should have known.
“Right,” he frowns and looks affronted on both their behalves. “I’m not thrilled about that, either,” he admits. “But… from everything you’ve told me, And Aunt Z and Marian have said, and Grandma, I just—”
“There being an explanation for her actions doesn’t excuse them, corazón.”
“Right. I… I know that, I just…”
“Want to know her, I understand,” she says it with a sigh. The problem is, this all feels inevitable. It has since the moment they walked into the cabin and she heard Emma’s voice. She always knew that she would see Emma again one day—their lives have been intwined for too many years to expect otherwise. She just… she thought that she would be more prepared. That enough time and distance would temper the hurt. She’s never been able to deny Henry much of anything, especially with this second go around. And she knows that his life is improved with Emma in it. She sucks in a thick, ragged breath. “Henry, you can spend as much time with her this week as you want. I’m not going to keep you from her.” His face lights up and she quickly adds, “however, I will not be. And you need to respect that, too.”
His face falls, instantly. “But, Mom, maybe there’s—”
“No, Henry.”
Her clever son changes tactics. “What about Hope?”
“What about her?” Regina asks, as though every waking minute that she’s been here when her thoughts weren’t spent on Emma, they haven’t been on the little blonde girl who looks so much like her.
“I mean, she’s your—”
“Nothing.” Regina quickly cuts off that line of thinking. “She isn’t my anything, Henry. She’s your half-sister, and you can have as much of a relationship with her as you like, but she isn’t my anything.”
(She can’t be. Regina cannot even entertain that thought, or she’ll never survive it).
Henry looks mollified, but only for the moment. There is a glint of determination in his eye that worries Regina, but there isn’t much that she can do about it for now.
“Back to practice?” she asks.
“Sounds good,” he grins. “I really do want us to win, and think this will be fun.”
Regina knows that her smirk is downright devilish. “Oh, we will.”
…
…
The thing about sharing a space with Emma again is… it’s easy. Even going out of her way to try and avoid Emma, Emma is not doing the same with her—Emma is trying to make Regina’s life easier. Coffee is made in the morning just the way that she likes it. Eggs and pancakes are cooked before Regina can move to do it. Towels are hung and washed instead of thrown on the floor. Shoes and jackets are stowed away. Emma is trying to make a considerable effort to make Regina comfortable and taken care of.
It’s infuriating.
Regina sits at the kitchen counter, sipping her—perfect, annoyingly—coffee while Emma struggles with the poached eggs. Her cooking doesn’t seem to have improved much over the last thirteen years. Henry offers helpful suggestions while Hope sits up on top of the counter beside her mother, sneaking glances at Regina out of the corner of her eye in between complaining about how hungry she is.
She whines again, a pathetic little whimper that solidifies in Regina’s heart and Emma curses as she burns herself on hot water, again. Regina can’t take this anymore.
“Move aside,” she says, reaching out and putting her palms on Emma’s waist and shifting her before she even realizes that she has done it. Both of them react at the same time; Emma making a straggled surprised noise and Regina sucking in a sharp breath before quickly removing her hands. She dumps Emma’s third terrible attempt into the trash, then asks Henry to pass her some more eggs.
“I was getting better,” Emma mumbles.
“You’re starving the children,” Regina retorts, but there is a teasing lilt to her voice that she can’t quite seem to help. Habit.
“You are, Ma,” Hope pops in to add. “I’m dying.”
Regina quirks an eyebrow in her direction without missing a beat in her cooking. “So, I see that she is just as dramatic as you are.”
“Hey!” Hope protests, glaring at Regina. She doesn’t look angry, though. She looks calculating; wary and curious. There’s a lot going on behind her eyes and she is clocking every interaction between the three of them.
“We are pretty dramatic,” Emma says with a light chuckle.
“And Mom’s not?” Henry adds with a scoff. Emma bursts out laughing and Regina turns to her son, aghast.
“Do you want to be fed today?” she asks.
“Yes!” he quickly says. “Sorry,” he’s grinning at her, though. “But Mom, you are dramatic. It’s not a bad thing!”
“You did chuck a fireball at my head once when I told you that we had to have dinner with my mom,” Emma says, trying to tease.
“It was deserved,” Regina says. “If any of you want to eat an edible breakfast today, you will all stop picking on me.”
Emma and Henry immediately both go quiet and sit over at the table, sharing grins that has Regina thinking of the same scene, twenty odd years ago, with a pang in her chest. Hope watches all of this with a curious gaze. She remains up on the counter, feet kicking back and forth as she sits beside Regina now, instead of her mother.
Regina feels Hope’s eyes on her all throughout breakfast.
…
…
The competition starts in full. Regina and Henry are up against Drizella—who apparently prefers to go by Ivy, now—and Anastasia Tremaine, first.
Ivy sets her gaze on Regina and never wavers. Regina isn’t sure what she remembers, now. What actually is in this new reality the most recent curse has granted them. For everyone in Storybrooke, memories weren’t really affected in the same way, not for anyone who didn’t regress in age. But Ivy and Anastasia were’t in Storybrooke then; they still look the same ages as they did the last time Regina saw them, back in Hyperion Heights.
Ivy still looks like she would very much enjoy kicking Regina's ass, but not quite as single minded about it.
The buzzer goes off and Regina engulfs Anastasia in a circle of fire without taking her eyes off of Ivy. As predicted, Ivy hisses out a curse and redirects focus, freeing her sister as Henry rushes her, scribbling quickly in his book. A dragon appears in front of Ivy, blocking her path and Regina smirks.
She has to dodge a blow from Ivy—she did teach her a thing or two, Regina would be insulted if this was an easy fight, honestly—and then things start to get fun.
Regina is laughing as she and Ivy trade blows. Anastasia is holding her own against Henry’s inventions, but Henry is clearly stronger, and they all know it.
“Regina, three o’clock!” Emma’s voice rings out from somewhere in the stands. On instinct, Regina turns and pulls up a shield immediately. Just narrowly missing a vicious blow that clearly took every bit of strength Anastasia had. Henry takes her down a second later, and Ivy charges in a rage. Regina doesn’t have time to dwell on how immediately she clicked into following Emma’s lead. She knew, objectively, that Emma was in the stands with Hope, waiting on their turn to fight in the lineup. But it’s another thing to be confronted with how instinctually her body and mind reacts to Emma.
(With the fact that protecting and helping Regina is still Emma’s first instinct, as well).
Regina takes Ivy down perhaps a bit too harshly, with that swirling around in her brain and the buzzer goes off again, signaling their win.
“You didn’t have to singe my hair,” Ivy complains as she walks over, her sister in tow to shake hands.
“Accidents happen, dear,” Regina says, trying to appear unflappable. Ivy quirks an eyebrow. She remembers; Regina realized that in the arena. Which means that she knows Regina better than she’d like. Particularly right now.
Regina grabs hold of Henry’s elbow and drags him over to sit beside Zelena and Marian. She kisses Robyn for good luck as the two of them pop up to go against a pair of sisters who look familiar. Elsa and Anna; Regina rolls her eyes. She never liked Elsa.
Marian’s arm slips around Regina’s shoulders and pulls her in tight. Whispering in her ear, she says, “Emma doesn’t want to date Elsa.”
Regina scoffs. “What?”
“I know what you look like when you’re jealous,” she retorts. “Also, you told me all about her crush a million years ago.”
“I couldn’t care less about who either of them dates,” Regina says.
Marian kisses her temple. “Yes, you do.”
“Marian—”
“I’m angry at her, too,” Marian says, a sudden bite to her tone that has Regina turning to look her in the eye. “She left you without a word in the middle of the night. I already yelled at her for about twenty minutes straight.”
“You did?” Regina asks, shocked.
“Two days ago. And back then. After she left.” Regina can only stare at Marian in shock. She’s… far calmer than most of the people in Regina’s life, but Regina has seen her furious before, and it’s not something that she ever wants to be on the receiving end of again. Marian clicks her tongue, exasperated. “I love you, querida,” she rolls her eyes. “You think I’m not going to defend you?”
“I…” Regina sighs. “No, that’s not… I’m just surprised. You always liked Emma.”
“I did. Technically, she was my friend before you were.”
“Don’t remind me of that time, please,” Regina says, groaning into her hands.
“What time?” Marian asks, her voice full of teasing mirth. “That time when you were sleeping with my husband?”
“Marian!” Regina pinches her side.
“Is everybody here weird and dating each other?” Hope’s voice suddenly interjects.
Regina jumps about a mile, head whipping around to see Hope sitting in the seat behind them. Her head is tilted to the side as she studies Marian and Regina. For her part, Marian looks surprised and chastised that Hope overheard them. She recovers far more quickly than Regina.
“Weird, yes,” she says affably. “All dating each other… no. Though, I’ll admit there has been quite a bit of crossover and confusion among all the various curses, personalities, and memories.”
Regina looks behind Hope. “Where’s your mother?” she asks, in lieu of actually saying Emma’s name. She’s… been avoiding it so far as best she can.
“Over there,” Hope points down closer to the stands and sure enough, a blonde head of loose curls is right there. Henry and Roland beside her as they watch and cheer on Robyn and Zelena.
“Not enjoying the fight?” Marian asks. Regina has no idea how much of their conversation Hope overheard. Apparently, she is much better at being stealthy than Henry ever was. Better at concealing her thoughts, too. Henry’s emotions are written all over his face.
(Same as Emma).
Hope simply shrugs in response.
Marian looks between Regina and Hope quickly and Regina grips her arm tighter in case she gets any bright ideas about giving them space. But Marian just smiles warmly at Hope. “Want some of our popcorn?” she asks, holding up the bucket. “We got too much.”
Hope looks like she would very much like to say yes, but she presses her lips together and sits on her hands, instead. “Um… I’m not super hungry.”
“Are you sure that you’re Emma’s child?” Regina asks without thought.
“Yeah. Dunno who my dad is, though,” she says, answering a question that no one has brought up in front of Regina so far. “Maybe I get it from him.”
“The not liking popcorn gene?” Marian asks, popping a small handful into her own mouth. “Well, what a cruel thing to pass on.”
“I like popcorn,” Hope protests.
“Oh, well then, did you want some?” Marian offers again.
“You’re a stranger,” Hope says, half glaring.
“I’m not big on poison,” Marian says easily. “Especially not when kids are in the equation.”
Hope turns her glare onto Regina. Perfect. So Emma has probably told Hope every terrible thing she’s ever done, then. She’s not about to get another sanctimonious Charming lecture. Certainly not one from a nine year old. She may have grown, but not that much. “Everyone that I’ve ever poisoned deserved it,” she says, haughtily looking back at the arena. She immediately thinks of Henry in a hospital bed—an image that still haunts her memories, more than most. “Except once,” she amends. Regina scoops her own handful of the popcorn, pointedly eating it as she watches the fight. Zelena and Robyn are dominating; it’s nearly over.
“Also,” Marian says. “Technically, we’re not strangers.”
“ I don’t know you,” Hope says. “That makes you strangers.”
“You’re currently living with Regina,” Marian counters. Phrasing it like that makes Regina suck in a harsh breath. Hope, ever observant, catches it.
“Yeah…” she trails off.
“I’ll buy you you’re own bag of popcorn and you can watch them make it, if you want,” she offers. Hope clearly wants some. She has Emma’s face. Henry’s. It’s not a face that Regina is built to say no to very easily, and some part of Regina is glad that she is suspicious instead of gullible.
“No,” Hope says. “That’s okay. I don’t need my own.” Hesitantly, she reaches down and scoops a small handful, eating them one by one, the same way that Regina does. Emma and Henry shovel handfuls into their mouths like animals. Something about the gesture has Regina looking away quickly. She doesn’t know how to do this. She hates Emma for putting her in this position.
The buzzer sounds and Zelena and Robyn are victorious. “Elsa might need to be consoled,” Marian teases.
“I will kill you right here in front of everyone,” Regina says back. When she turns automatically to hold the popcorn up to Hope again, she catches her twisting up her nose in disgust as she looks over at Elsa. And just like that, her mood soars. It’s petty, but Regina has never claimed not to be.
“Are you really my mom’s wife?” Hope suddenly asks her.
“No,” Regina says.
“Yes,” Marian answers, at the same time.
Hope looks between them, frowning. “Which is it?”
“Ex-wife,” Regina says, through gritted teeth. “Ergo, no. Not anymore.”
“But you were,” Marian says. “So, technically, also sort of yes.”
Regina sends a spark of flame at her feet and Marian yelps even as it’s already going out.
“Why aren’t you wives anymore?” Hope asks, taking this all in stride.
“Why don’t you ask your mother that?” Regina says, doing her level best not to snap at this child simply for asking questions that she has the right to know.
“I already tried,” Hope says.
“And what did she say?” Regina asks, like an idiot. Like an addict, desperate for a tiny glimmer of something that she knows will only hurt her in the long run.
Hope gives her an inscrutable look. “That relationships are complicated and grown ups make mistakes all the time.”
Marian makes an impressed face. Regina's eyebrows bunch up. “Hm,” she says. “Surprisingly astute of her.”
“Is it, though?” Marian asks. “She’s always been honest. Maybe too much so.”
“Perhaps,” acknowledges Regina.
“So,” Hope asks, growing impatient and finally showing her age. She might have a better poker face than Henry or Emma, and she might be stealthier, but she’s still a nine year old who wants answers. “Are you going to give me a real answer, or not?”
“I don’t think it’s my place to,” Regina says.
“But you were both married,”Hope protests. “It’s about both of you”
“I’ll rephrase, then,” Regina says. “I don’t think that my version puts Emma in a particularly kind light, and I don’t really want to damage how you view your mother. My relationship with Emma is not yours.”
“Henry said that she left,” Hope says.
Regina sighs. “What else did Henry say?”
“A lot,” Hope says, unflinching. “I wanted your version.”
“Another time, perhaps,” Regina says, thankful as she sees the lineup shift up on the display. “You’re up.”
Hope looks up at the screen and scowls. She stands up and starts walking down to meet her mother all the same. “Promise,” she says, sticking her hand out for Regina to shake.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“Because you won’t keep it?”
“Probably not,” Regina admits. “I’d rather not make a promise to you unless it’s one I can keep.”
Hope sighs, but instead of looking defeated, she gets the same determined look that Henry gets when he receives an answer that he doesn’t like. She isn’t going to let this go. “Wish me luck?” she asks, changing tactics. There is a cocky grin pulling onto her face, so reminiscent of Emma that it hurts.
“I have a feeling that you won’t need it,” Regina says, a smile forming on her own face. She likes Hope. Too much, probably. Already.
“You don’t even know who I’m fighting yet. You didn’t look up at the screen.”
“I don’t need to,” Regina says. “Emma wouldn’t raise a daughter and bring her here if she wasn’t capable. Plus, I can sense your magic.”
Hope’s eyes widen. “You can?”
“Go knock ‘em dead,” Marian says. “Not literally, though. That’s against the rules.”
“You’ll stay and watch?” Hope asks, looking only at Regina.
She knows why Hope is asking. Truthfully, she hadn’t been planning on staying and watching Emma fight. But Hope’s wide, shy gaze is boring into her. She clearly hates asking for things almost as much as Emma does. But she is asking anyway. Too much. Too much, already. Regina forces a gentle smile onto her face. “I will,” she promises.
Hope breaks out into a grin. “Okay,” she says, and takes off skipping to the ring.
“You’re screwed,” Marian whispers.
Regina sighs. “I know.”
…
…
“Celebratory dinner?” Regina asks, eyes narrowed at Marian and Emma.
“We all won our first matches and we’re all hungry,” Marian says, sweetly looking over at Regina. She pulls Roland and Robyn in front of her and crouches down, placing her face between theirs as she taps their shoulders. Instantly, the three of them make puppy dog eyes up at Regina—a dirty trick. It works nearly every time. Regina rolls her eyes, but everyone in the room knows that she is about to cave and say yes. “Wonderful,” Marian says. “Let’s go!”
The children all cheer, even Henry, and Regina can’t really feel annoyed by the forced interaction. Her son is beaming. Hope is chattering away at him as they walk side by side and he can’t seem to stop looking down at her fondly. Something hot and sharp flashes inside of Regina's chest. She knows that Emma has slinked up beside her before even she says anything—it’s like a sixth sense. It doesn’t seem to have dampened with disuse.“They seem happy,” Emma whispers softly.
“They do,” Regina agrees.
“He fought really well.”
“He’s an incredible person.”
“He is.” Emma swallows, thickly. “Thanks to you,” she adds.
“I’m not doing this now, Emma,” Regina tells her, fists balled tightly.
Emma’s hands flinch like she might reach out for her, but thinks better of it. “Regina, please—”
“The children want a celebratory dinner, and they want to hang out together without tension. Don’t bring tension.”
Emma chuckles dryly, all hint of amusement gone. “It’s there whether we pretend it is or not.”
“Who’s fault is that?” Regina turns her head, leveling Emma with a glare that would send anyone else running. With Emma, she only sighs and looks down. Chastised, but remaining beside Regina.
“I know,” she whispers.
Regina maneuvers herself so that she is sitting in between Robyn and Marian, despite Emma clearly trying to stick closer to her side. Marian pinches her thigh—the only indication that she is displeased with Regina that she shows all evening.
She enjoys herself far more than she thought she would, when Marian first brought it up. Dinners with the three of them and their children are common, now, and tend to happen at least once a week if not more. It’s… discomforting how easily Emma and Hope both fit into their group. Emma, in particular, seems to almost pick right back up where she left off in her relationships with Marian and Zelena. Perhaps some of Zelena’s barbs hit a little harder than they usually do, and it warms Regina’s heart, in that small part of her that delights in seeing her sister sticking up for her. Marian, it seems had her words with Emma and now accepts her back with little issue.
Regina spends a lot of the evening quiet, just observing. Roland and Robyn are excitable and loud, but not overly so—aware of the fact that they are in a restaurant and not wanting to disturb others. Hope seems to go through bursts of excitable loud energy and quiet observation. Regina spends almost as much time studying her as Hope spends studying Regina throughout the night. Emma gives Henry the majority of her attention, and watching the two of them together again is… frustrating. The problem is, she wants this. This is all that she has wanted for years. She had it and trusted Emma, and then Emma pulled the rug out from underneath her, and Regina simply does not know how to deal with this anymore.
When she looks back up, Robyn is pressing against her side, whispering to please be let out of the booth so that she can use the restroom. Regina shifts and takes the opportunity to go up to the bar and get herself a drink. When she turns back around, drink in hand to head back to the table, Hope is standing in front of her.
“Hi,” she says, not quite smiling up at Regina, but clearly doing her best to reign one in. Regina’s own lips turn up at the sight almost instantly.
“Hello,” she responds. “Are you having a good time?”
Hope nods quickly, bouncing slightly up and down on her toes. “This is really fun! Ma and I never have dinner with this many people. It’s usually just us and pizza on the couch.”
Regina clucks her tongue in disgust. “I hope she at least orders vegetables on the pizza.”
“Um… sometimes.”
“I’ll be sure to cook some you real food,” Regina says, not thinking.
“Really?” Hope looks at her with anticipation. “Ma says that you’re a really good cook.”
“I am,” Regina says simply.
“Can you teach me how to make Pad Thai? That’s one of my favorites.”
“Um… I… could, yes.”
Hope flings herself at Regina. One moment she’s just standing there, looking up at Regina—well, hopefully—and the next it’s like a switch was pulled, and she is in Regina's arms, squeezing tight. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cheers. “Tonight?”
“Um,” Regina's arms had moved and to catch her on instinct, and some part of her hates how easily Hope fits there. She smells like Emma. “It’s a bit late, tonight. We’d need quite a few ingredients. And we’ve already eaten tonight.”
“What about for Christmas?” Hope asks. “You and me could make it for Christmas dinner? We’re all celebrating together, right? I mean… we’re sharing a cabin…” she trails off, biting her lip and looking a little unsure.
“I’m not sure that’s the plan,” Regina says. “But I promise that sometime this week, I’ll teach you before you leave.”
Hope looks disappointed, but only slightly. “Okay, deal!” she squeezes Regina tighter again and then, surprisingly, tugs herself up and kisses Regina’s cheek. “Thank you!” she says, and then she is gone. Regina watches her run back over to their table, catching Emma’s eye. Emma smiles at her, soft and fond and warm, and Regina knows that she saw the whole interaction.
Yep, she is screwed.