Noise drowned out as she stared down the barrel of her gun. She had always thought that near-death experiences were accompanied by freak flashes of your life, but as she saw his finger move to the trigger, all she could think in that one split paralyzed second was Regina and Henry sitting on top of that damn horse as they sang that lullaby that never failed to calm Emma down. She stared the man down nearly daring him to do it. It'd be quick, and she'd be anywhere but here. His finger twitched and a gun shot, but then blood trickled down the middle of his forehead as a bullet lodged itself there. He fell to his knees, dropping the M16 before falling limply to the ground.
Her head started to pound nimbly like a heartbeat as if the organ itself had traveled through her chest and up her lungs to shield her brain from damage. Her mind slowly returned to her enough that she was able to turn herself over onto her stomach and slide across the sand and stone toward her gun. Before her fingers could even touch it, a final bomb so close that the heat from the blast felt like it would melt Emma's flesh went off. And then another. And another.
Each explosion coming closer and closer as if they were heading straight for her like she was their only target. One by one, buildings fell around her like dominoes. She curled her body inward, tucking her head into her chest as stones buried her under the ashes and flames and bodies.
Arrorró mi niño, arrorró mi amor, arrorró pedazo de mi corazón.
October 26, 2004 – Storybrooke, Maine
Regina took a relaxed breath as she read the final lines from Emma's letter. The blonde had made it safely overseas but was uncertain when she'd be able to call Regina again. Apparently they were keeping everyone busy in the Middle East, and after following every newspaper and media coverage, Regina was certain of it as well. Like nearly the entire country, Regina had been on board with sending their military to Iraq after the horrific events of 9/11 but as the years progressed and more and more soldiers were being shipped away and more privacy was being stripped in the name of homeland security, Regina's views shifted.
Especially since she got to know Emma.
Back then, the younger woman was a faceless friend whom she had grown to care about deeply. Every letter held a degree of anxiety while she was on tour since Regina was acutely aware that it could be her last. But the blonde had been nervous enough for the both of them and Regina had remained the one to keep her grounded. Now with Emma as more than a friend – they never did quite talk about what they were to each other – with Emma as someone who made Regina feel things she hadn't felt in years, the agitation built up inside her like a tidal wave constantly crashing over her.
But for now with Emma's letter in her hand claiming a safe trip and a safer arrival, Regina could keep her head above water before the next high tide hit. She smiled fondly at the letter before placing it on her foyer table on top of a care package that would be Emma's birthday gift already filled with another jar of cocoa, some toys and school supplies to give to the children there, and a book, along with a discman and a few CDs that August chipped in for Emma's coming of age. The fact that Regina had missed this year's birthday drove her anal retentive nature crazy, but neither women were a hundred percent sure which base camp the blonde would be stationed at, and Regina didn't want to send it as a shot in the dark.
"Pa-choo, pa-choo!" Henry's playing reminded Regina that she had promised her son to paint his face in preparation for Halloween. Though the holiday was five days away, Henry had the tendency to constantly wear his Halloween costume for a week straight. Last year Regina was faced with the predicament that Henry wouldn't even take off his costume for bath time. Batman Henry got sufficiently soaked that night as the boy saved Gotham, claiming the city was flooded. In all honesty, Regina was preparing herself for months in advance for this year's costume through online searches and visits to the lone thrift store in town while steadily avoiding the pawn shop for her disdain of the owner. With Henry's love for Treasure Planet and his recent obsession with growing a rat's tail, Regina had scouted out jackets, shirts, and even a fake clip on earring for what would have been his Halloween costume all ready to go hidden in the back of her closet. But to Regina's surprise, though it really shouldn't have been when she thought about it, Henry went an entirely different route.
Private Henry Mills was in his playroom, crouched on his belly and forearms as he hid under the child-sized picnic table with Rexy Junior and Sea Turtle. For two days after returning home from pre-school, Henry had run up to his room, clothes left discarded in his wake, to change into his army uniform. It was nowhere near professional as Emma's with the thick insulated materials and the desert camouflage, but to Henry it was perfect. Jungle-style dark green and brown camo was the print of his button up shirt with Private etched onto the breast, and his cargo pants with real thigh length pockets were just like Emma's (plus he could hide small toys or cookies in there). The outfit also came equipped with a utility belt holding a walkie-talkie. A tiny plastic machine gun had been included, but before Henry had even seen the costume Regina had tossed the weapon away. She was all for her son having the best costume, but she was still a mother, and the last thing she wanted was for her son to play with guns. Ironic still from her choice in lover. However, the helmet he was sporting was entirely a Regina-creation. She had taken his old Playhouse construction worker hat and after a quick paint job to match the jungle camo, it was ready for military use. She couldn't wait to send Emma pictures of him.
"Les go, boys," Henry said into his walkie-talkie before taking Rexy Jr. and Sea Turtle by the limbs and crawling out from under the table. Regina refrained from stopping him when Henry suddenly started rolling toward his tent then stood and attempted a somersault, though it was really him just placing his head on the ground and walking his body to the opposite way. He twitched dramatically before falling into the tent. "Ahh, they got me! They got me! Save me, Mommy!"
Regina shook her head affectionately, walking the distance from the entrance to his tent and pulling the Velcro away that attached the roof to pick Henry up into a tight snuggle.
"Phew," he said wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "Thassa close one."
"That was a close one," Regina said dutifully, giving his nose a gentle tap with her finger.
"We gonna paint my face now?" He asked excitedly.
Regina said nothing and simply placed him down onto his feet and walked the few steps to his art table where she left the face paint.
"And Rexy too?" Henry asked holding up Rexy Jr. in one hand and squinting one eye in hopeful persuasion. "He has to match his Daddy."
"I don't recall Rex being in uniform."
"He's with Emma," reasoned the boy as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
To Henry's credit, Regina could see his logic, but face paint on toy fabric was a recipe for disaster. Tucking a hand under her chin in thought, Regina bargained with her son. "We can't paint Rexy, but I think we can make him match Daddy."
October 28 2004
Emma,
I'm so glad to hear you've arrived safely. I admit, I was getting more than a little worried since I had gotten used to expecting your letter more frequently.