Chapter Text
Regina slid into the driver’s seat of the Benz. She glanced at the booster seat secured in the back through the rearview mirror. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. She remembered what it was like to suddenly be treated as Snow’s mother, but Snow had liked her, loved her even. This child, this little girl, would not love her immediately, maybe not ever. Regina drove past the Entering Storybrooke sign. She sighed. She knew that she didn’t deserve to be loved or forgiven. She was lonely and maybe she could finally do something good with her life. She could take a child that needed a home, a mother, and give that to them. It was a long drive to Boston and Regina went over how she would introduce herself the entire way.
“Hello, Emma,” she murmured to herself on I-95, at the gas station, at the stop light, and finally in the parking lot of the adoption centre. She’d been there before, of course, to sign the papers and read over Emma’s file. Regina slid out of the driver’s seat of the Benz. She walked through the doors in the waiting room. She approached the front desk.
“Hello, Ms. Mills,” the receptionist said. Regina bristled.
“Mayor,” she corrected, firmly. The receptionist nodded, quickly.
“Emma will meet you shortly. You can go into room two-o-three.”
“Thank you,” Regina said. She walked down the hallway and into the room the receptionist had indicated. It was set up like an office. Regina sat down in the chair across from the desk. She noted the basket of children’s toys in the corner and wondered how long Emma would have to play silently in the corner. There was a quiet knock at the door.
“Come in,” Regina called. The door opened and a short, brunette woman stepped through.
“Hello,” she said. “My name is Debra Tolinski. I’m Emma’s social worker.”
“Yes, we’ve met,” Regina said. Debra nodded. She pushed the door open further and gestured for the little girl in the hallway to enter. The child had long, blonde hair. She was wearing a green t-shirt and overalls. Regina thought she looked sweet, like a girl that would be found in a L. M. Montgomery book.
“Hello, Emma,” Regina said, bending down slightly. The child frowned up at her.
“Say hello, Emma,” the girl’s social worker said. “Regina is your new mom.” Regina frowned slightly. She didn’t want Emma to be forced to accept her as a parent just a few minutes after meeting her. She wanted Emma to know that she cared about her, but she didn’t want to force closeness.
“I don’t want a new mom,” Emma retorted. “I want my real parents.”
“It’s alright, Emma,” Regina said. “I don’t have to be your mom. Can you wait while Ms. Tolinski and I finish up some paperwork?” Emma glanced at the basket of toys.
“I’m bored of those,” she said. Regina opened her purse.
“I brought a book for you, if you like to try that,” she offered. Regina took the book out of her purse and held it out. Emma scrutinised her. She reached out slowly and then snatched the book from Regina’s hand.
“The Boxcar Children?” she read.
“Yes, dear,” Regina said.
“I’ve read this one,” Emma said. Regina pressed her lips together.
“I’m sorry.”
“I like it though.” Emma sat down in the chair next to Regina and tucked her knees up to her chest, balancing the book on them precariously.
A little while later, Regina, Emma, and Ms. Tolinski walked out the Benz. Emma clutched the book Regina had given her to her chest. She scuffed her trainer’s toe against the pavement.
“Alright, Emma,” Regina said, turning to her and finishing her conversation with Ms. Tolinski. “Can you get in the car for me?” Emma peered around her and looked through the open car door.
“I’m not a baby,” Emma snarked, pointing at the booster seat.
“I know you’re not, my dear. It’s to keep you safe. Get in.”
“Go on, Emma,” the social worker said. Emma glared up at her and stomped past Regina into the car.
“Thank you for bringing her to me,” Regina said. She had decided that this social worker would never have a chance to see Emma again. She didn’t want the child to be told that each new foster family were her new parents. That wasn’t right. Emma didn’t know her yet and might not want to stay with Regina after she got to know her.
“You’re welcome. I’ll come by your house for a check-in in a few days,” Ms. Tolinski said. Regina knew that wasn’t true. Storybrooke was closed to outsiders afterall.
“We’ll see you then,” Regina lied.
“Remember, you can always send her back. That girl is a bit of a menace.” Regina fixed her glare on the social worker. Ms. Tolinski shrunk back slightly.
“I will not be sending her back. Good day.” Regina spun on her heel and got in the car. She sighed.
“Send me back if you don’t want me,” Emma said, misinterpreting the sigh. Regina examined the hard expression on the girl’s face in the rearview mirror. It was one she herself had worn many times; an expression meant to protect a person’s true hurt from being exposed.
“I want you, Emma. I’m not going to send you back. Ever.”
“Oh.”
They arrived at the mansion a few hours later. Regina let them both inside. Emma dumped her backpack on the floor with a thump.
“Do you want to come into the kitchen, my dear? There’s a cake waiting for you. It is your birthday, correct?”
“Yeah. It’s my birthday.” Regina hated the dead tone of Emma’s voice. She wanted the girl to be excited for her birthday. It wasn’t fair that this day was so tumultuous.
“Come along, then.” Emma followed Regina into the kitchen, leaving her bag on the landing’s floor. Regina dug a box of candles and another of matches out of a drawer.
“You’re seven today, right, my dear?” Emma nodded. The child climbed up onto a barstool and leaned on the counter, watching Regina. Regina arranged seven candles on top of the cake and lit a match. When all the candles were burning, she pushed the cake toward Emma.
“Happy birthday, Emma Swan,” she said. Emma blew out the candles and looked expectantly up at Regina. The mayor plucked the candles out of the cake and handed them to Emma to lick clean. Emma giggled to herself as she sucked frosting off of the wax. Regina smiled privately and sunk a knife into the cake.
“How big do you want your piece?” she asked. Emma looked up and furrowed her brow.
“Bigger.”
“You can have ice cream too, remember that.”
“Still bigger.” Emma watched her face, testing if Regina would cave to her demands. Regina moved the knife a bit to make the first piece bigger.
“Bigger. Please.” Regina moved the knife again.
“Bigger,” Emma repeated. Regina frowned a little. Emma giggled.
“I’m kidding,” she whispered. “Sorry.” Regina smiled to soothe her and cut her slice of cake. She placed it on a plate and slid it toward Emma. She turned to hand Emma a fork and saw the child shovelling cake into her mouth with her fingers. Regina put the fork down.
“What ice cream flavour do you want? I have vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and cookies and cream.”
“Cookies,” Emma mumbled, her mouth full. Regina set to scooping some ice cream into a bowl.
When Emma had finished her birthday treat, she jumped off her barstool.
“I wanna see my room now,” she said.
“Follow me then, dear,” Regina said. Regina led Emma up the stairs and pushed open the door to Emma’s room. Emma stepped into the room and looked around. Regina had left the walls white and filled it with things she thought a girl of Emma’s age would like. There was a bed pushed up against one wall. It was a loft bed with a bookshelf and desk underneath. Emma climbed the small flight of stairs and crawled onto the bed.
“Emma, I need to do some paperwork in my office,” Regina said, wanting to give Emma some time alone to process. “If you need me, call for me or come find me downstairs.”
“Ok,” Emma said, gazing around the room. Regina left the room and shut the door gently. Emma straightened her legs out over the mattress. She took in the room.
There was a window with thick white curtains and beneath her bed was a white rug. The walls were white; the bed frame was white.
White, white, white. Emma wanted to scribble all over it. It was too plain, too empty. It was going to swallow her whole.
Her gaze drifted as she clutched herself. There was a bin of stuffed animals in one corner along with a doll house and a tub of Legos. There was a window seat next to her bed, blue gingham cushions atop it. Emma glanced back to the bin of stuffed animals. She scurried down the stairs of her bed and went over to the corner. She picked through the bin of stuffed toys, trying to find one she liked. There were none on the bed; surely Regina was trying to leave space for her things, but Emma didn’t have things. She grabbed a cat near the bottom of the bin and dragged it out. It was faded yellow with soft fabric, clearly well-loved. Emma wondered if this had been Regina’s toy cat. She decided it was hers now.
Emma went back to her bed and set the cat on her pillow. Now all she needed was her baby blanket. It was downstairs. Regina was downstairs. Emma didn’t know how to feel about Regina. She said she wanted Emma, but Emma had been told that too many times to take it at face value. The woman had sighed when she got in the car, surely that meant she wasn’t happy with Emma.
Emma looked down at her clothes. They weren’t pretty, not like the mayor’s impeccable home. She was wearing a ratty green t-shirt and frayed overalls. Maybe Regina had wanted a girly-girl and not a tomboy. But Regina had still given her cake and ice cream and smiled at her and not yelled when Emma had joked about the amount of cake she wanted.
Emma went downstairs. She could hear Regina speaking to someone in her office, probably over the phone since Emma couldn’t hear the other half of the conversation. Emma grabbed her backpack from the entryway and took it upstairs. She dumped it in the corner of her new room and got out her blanket. She arranged the purple and white yarn carefully on her bed and went to find something to do. In the bookshelf beneath her bed, Emma found the complete set of a series she had wanted to read before she had to move. She grinned to herself and brought the first book with her when she got back on the bed.
Regina knocked quietly.
“What?” Emma called, not rudely. Regina opened the door and found the girl sprawled out on her bed, a book resting on the pillow.
“I thought we could go to the park for a few hours. It’ll give you a chance to meet some of the town’s children before school.” Emma wrinkled her nose.
“I don’t care about the other kids.”
“Ok. Do you want to go to the park anyway?” Emma sat up and narrowed her eyes at Regina.
“You better not make me talk to anyone I don’t wanna.”
“I won’t, Emma. I want you to have fun. That’s what the park is meant for.” Emma met her eyes and seemed to be searching them for lies.
“Ok,” she said, finally.
Regina helped Emma into her coat and took her out to the car. She pulled the car door open. Emma turned to her and glared.
“ I told you last time, that’s for babies.” Emma pointed at the booster seat.
“Emma, you’re too young to be riding without a booster seat.”
“I didn’t have to with the last family,” Emma argued.
“Then they didn’t want you to be safe. I want you to be safe. Get in the car.” Emma pointed her gaze at her feet and climbed into the car. She buckled herself in and Regina shut the door.
“Emma, I’m not trying to be mean,” Regina said when she started the car. Emma crossed her arms and stared out the window. Regina’s heart sunk a little in her chest. She had snapped at the girl and now Emma was upset with her. No matter; Emma had to be safe and if Regina had to snap, so be it.
When Regina opened the car door, Emma jumped out of her seat and rushed past her. Regina followed at a slower pace and sat down on an empty bench where she could see Emma playing. The child was swinging herself across the monkey bars, a smile on her face. Regina let a soft smile of her own cross her features. The tap of dress shoes and a cane made her look up.
“Gold,” she said, coolly.
“Madame Mayor,” Mr. Gold said.
“What do you want?”
“To give you a warning.” Regina scoffed and went back to watching Emma.
“I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say,” Mr. Gold said. “It pertains to that little girl.”
“Emma?” Regina asked, turning to face him. He smiled smugly.
“Yes. Emma.” Regina’s hands curled into fists.
“What about Emma?”
“Do you know who her parents are?”
“Of course, not. She was left on the side of the road as a baby.” Mr. Gold hummed.
“Well, I know who they are.”
“Are you going to tell me?” Regina hated speaking to Mr. Gold. It took ages for him to get around to his point.
“Emma Swan’s mother and father are Snow White and Prince Charming,” Mr. Gold said. Regina felt a swath of hate wash over her. Then she smiled.
“Well, isn’t that the cruel hand of fate?”
“Not if you know who she is.”
“Who do you think she is?”
“I know she’s the Saviour.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Regina asked, crossing her arms.
“She’s going to break your little curse. She wasn’t supposed to break it until her twenty-eighth birthday, but you went and brought her here early.”
“She doesn’t know anything about the curse. I’m not concerned.” Mr. Gold hummed again, tapping his cane on the ground.
“Who’s that?” Regina looked up to see Emma standing firmly in front of her with her arms crossed, a frown on her face.
“Nobody, Emma. Go play.”
“Liar,” Emma accused. Regina reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind Emma’s ear.
“Dear, you don’t have to worry about him.”
“Who is he?” Emma asked again. Mr. Gold knelt down so he was eye-level with Emma.
“My name is Mr. Gold, dearie.” Emma glared up at him and pressed closer to Regina.
“Make him go away,” she said. Regina turned to Mr. Gold.
“You heard her,” she said, jerking her chin at him. Mr. Gold gave a fake smile and walked away. Emma spun and ran back to the playground.
Back at the house, Regina laid out several menus from local restaurants for Emma to look through.
“That one,” Emma said, finger pointing at Granny’s menu.
“Alright. What do you want?”
“A grilled cheese and fries and a chocolate milkshake,” Emma said. Regina nodded and went to the phone to order. She got a burger and a side salad for herself. Several minutes later, Regina and Emma got back in the car to pick up the order. Once they were back home, Regina laid out the take-away containers.
“Can I watch tv?” Emma asked, bouncing on her toes as Regina transferred her sandwich to a plate.
“No. It’ll rot your brain.”
“But I want to!” Emma whined.
“I know you want to, but you have school tomorrow.” Emma threw herself on the floor and shrieked.
“Emma Swan,” Regina said, firmly. “Get up right now. The floor is nasty and I will not tolerate your screaming.”
“No!” Emma cried, red in the face. Regina crossed her arms and looked down her nose at Emma. The girl teared up and sniffled. Regina felt guilty for yelling. She knew this transition would be hard for Emma. Maybe she needed to be more flexible.
“Emma, you are testing my patience and I do not appreciate that. Get up or you will eat dinner and go straight to bed.” Emma pulled herself up to sit.
“What do I get if I stop screaming?”
“You can watch tv before you go to bed.”
“But you said it rots my brain.” Regina sighed, crouching down next to Emma. She cupped the child’s hot cheeks, thumbing away tear tracks.
“This is hard for both of us. I’m willing to let you watch tv if it will help you settle down and feel comfortable.”
“Ok,” Emma said, softly. Regina let go of her face and stood back up.
“We’re still eating at the dining table, my dear.”
“I know. Can I have my plate now?” Regina handed the plate to Emma.
“Come back for your milkshake.” Emma nodded, heading for the dining room. Regina followed with her own plate and glass of wine. When Emma settled in her seat, placing her milkshake carefully in front of her plate, she wrinkled her nose at Regina’s wine.
“That stuff makes your breath smell icky,” she informed her.
“Good thing I’m not breathing in your face then,” Regina responded, taking a sip.
“You can’t give me goodnight kisses if you drink that.”
“Ok. I won’t, dear.” Emma nodded and dug into her sandwich. Regina took a bite of her burger and then wiped her lips daintily. Emma ate her sandwich ferociously, grease and crumbs getting all over her face.
“What’s your favourite colour, Emma?” Regina asked. Emma paused.
“Yellow,” she said. Then took a huge bite out of her sandwich.
“Use your napkin, dear. Would you like to paint your room that colour?” Emma wiped her mouth and immediately went back to eating. She took a break to answer Regina’s question.
“Yeah. I don’t really like the white.” Regina nodded. They both ate in silence for a while.
“I don’t– I don’t want to sleep in the white room,” Emma said, eventually.
“Why not?”
“It’s too plain.” Regina nodded again. She had a feeling that Emma didn’t like the room since it didn’t feel like it belonged to her. They would have to change that.
When they were done eating, there was only about an hour until Emma’s bedtime. Regina sent her upstairs to brush her teeth and change into pyjamas. Then she set her up on the couch and turned on a Disney movie. Emma snuggled under a blanket, thumb in her mouth. Regina sat at the other end of the couch, a few inches away from Emma’s feet. Emma’s eyes were drooping sleepily by the time the movie had finished. Regina started another one and stood up.
“It’s time to go to sleep, Emma,” she said, quietly. Emma mumbled something around her thumb and rolled onto her back. Regina sat on the edge of the couch and smoothed Emma’s hair.
“Say that again, dear.”
“Blankie n’ the yellow cat,” Emma murmured.
“Are they in your room?” Emma nodded. Regina got up and went upstairs. She picked the scruffy cat. She pressed it to her chest, her heart aching and her stomach clenching. She inhaled the scent of the stuffed animal and then snatched the purple and white blanket off of the bed. Regina brought both items downstairs. Emma was asleep when she re-entered the living room. Regina tucked the blanket around Emma and the cat into her arms. Emma blinked her eyes open sleepily and gave Regina a small smile. Regina pulled Emma’s thumb from her mouth gently and smoothed her hair one last time.
“Good night, Emma,” she whispered.