"Are you–?" Regina cleared her throat attempting to get the words out. Back in her adolescence she once wore her heart on her sleeve, but now she had a hard time letting her mouth say what her heart wanted for fear of the answer. "Are you still upset with me?"
The soldier released an amused chuckle but quickly reassured the brunette. "We're okay."
"We still need to talk."
"Just talk?"
Regina rolled her eyes hearing the implication behind Emma's words. If the blonde was right there in front of her, no doubt she would pull out the waggling eyebrows and the knowing smirk. Regina grinned nonetheless at the mental image and rolled a coy shoulder. "I'm sure there are much more amusing things we could do," she purred before sobering immediately. "But, yes. We do need to talk."
"Okay," Emma agreed readily. "But after that. . ."
Regina laughed out loud, and though she knew she shouldn't continue to play the none-too-innocent vixen, the memory of Emma pressed against her had happened far too long ago and their cat-and-mouse teasing was just too delicious after months of separation. "I'm all yours," she agreed almost breathlessly, and it took half a minute for either woman to register the words and implications Regina just presented.
"Me too," Emma said firmly and with every bit of sincerity she could muster. "Hey, can you do me a favour?" She asked quietly, suddenly cautious of the volume of her voice.
"Of course."
"If anyone asks, Henry's my godson, right?"
Regina squinted and looked at her phone, wondering if she had misheard, but the static on the line was blessedly minuscule. The gears in her brain turned, and through the line Regina could detect just the barest hints of fear in Emma's otherwise jovial voice. "Of course he is," she answered easily. "Why do you think he already calls August Uncle yet you by your name?"
A breath of relief released from Emma before she chuckled. "Because he already has a blatant disrespect for me?"
"Quite the opposite, in fact." Furrowing her brow, Regina questioned more intently. "Emma, is someone bothering you?"
There was half a second of silence that was interrupted by the imminent static on the line, but the blonde spoke, cutting it off. "It's just–it's nothing I can't handle, I swear."
Regina bit her lip, not necessarily believing Emma but trusting her nonetheless. What other choice did she have really? "How much longer will you be gone?"
"Probably a few months."
She scowled audibly.
"Hey." Emma interrupted the complaint that was sure to leave red-stained lips. "I'll be back before you know it."
December 30, 2004 – Storybrooke, Maine
Regina grunted as she somehow managed to push open the door of the mansion with the weight of a very muscular August Booth leaning against her side, his arm strung around her shoulders for support. Carrying a wounded soldier while her son sobbed behind them as he brought up the rear, his skates dragging in a tangled knot behind him, was not something she had planned for when she, Henry, and August had left that morning so Henry could show Uncle August how he could go really, really, really, really fast on ice skates. Apparently not that fast unless he was losing his balance and colliding right into August's prosthetic.
Regina was impressed with herself that she had managed to bear the brunt of August's weight from the rink to her car and from her car to the mansion. Call it adrenaline or perhaps those yoga tapes she had an affinity to watching when Henry was knocked out for the night actually came in handy, but whatever it was, Regina managed to carry him into the foyer.
August growled in his attempt to suppress any and all pained sounds, but they escaped in his hissed breathing, in the flare of his nostrils, and in his talon-like grip on Regina's shoulder.
"Gently," Regina soothed as she slowly removed his arm from her shoulder to lead him to the first few steps. August didn't listen and grunted as he fell in a heap of limbs onto the ground, his growling more insistent as he somehow managed to shimmy his way onto a sitting position at the top of the step. "I said gently," Regina reprimanded before turning to scoop a still whimpering Henry into her arms, but the boy resisted as he stood in the middle of the dipped foyer, his training skates left discarded by his side, and his hands lying limply at his waist as he just continued to cry and look solemnly at Uncle August.
After a few deep breaths and physically lifting up his prosthetic leg to stretch it out, August's breathing evened out giving Henry a half-hearted smile. "You can skate really, really fast."
Shamed, Henry clung to the back of Regina's leg and wiped his wet face and runny nose against the cotton. In all his winter clothing, he looked like a crying blue marshmallow as he shook from fear. "I, I–I'm sooorry!"
August reached out a hand, and with much persuasion from both adults, Henry ran from his hiding spot and into August's arms where his crying became more pronounced, and from the sounds of his snotty sniffling, more wet. "It's not your fault, kid. My hard drive was acting up anyway when you fell into me."
Henry sniffled and pulled back hopefully. "Yeah?"
"I just gotta get rewired again and grease up my hinges." August nodded, patting him once on the back before ushering him off. "You got any more of that ice cream we're not supposed to tell your mom that we've been eating?"
Excited and oblivious to Regina's frown, Henry ran off, already happier than he had been in the last few minutes. As soon as he was out of earshot, August allowed the pained expression to fill his face once more as he hurriedly pulled up his pant leg, plastic and metal catching on the denim fabric before he examined the remaining stump of his leg to find it reddening and bruised.
"I am so sorry." Regina knelt down and examined his leg, careful not to touch anything.
"It's fine," August gruffed, massaging the limb and and exhaling between clenched teeth. "Kid's kinda boney even with all those layers."
Regina grimaced at his reddening flesh that didn't look like it was going away anytime soon. "Did . . .parts get lodged further?" She asked uncertainly.
August chuckled good-naturally, his boyish charm returning as the pain receded at a snail's pace. "Despite Henry's implications I'm not actually a cyborg." He looked up to the ceiling in thought. "At least that's what they programmed me to say in the mothership."
Regina rolled her eyes, August's comment making her forget her need to be embarrassed for her ignorance. "I still think you should go to the hospital."
"I'm fine," he insisted with a huff as he grabbed onto the wall to stand up.
"You fell on the ice and then a three-year old body slammed you. I don't think you're fine."
"To point out, he's almost four," the grunting man argued.
"If you're worried I'll tell Emma that Henry beat you up, you can rest easy at night."
August tilted his head to acknowledge her statement but promptly ignored it, choosing instead to focus his energy on getting upright.
"You were grunting yesterday as well," Regina noted as he managed to press his back against the wall and slide halfway up.
"It wasn't a grunt," he insisted, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment before placing his lip between his teeth and shooting the rest of the way up. His momentum overshot, and he ended up losing his footing and collapsing against the foyer's side table.
"God!" August yelled out as Regina rushed to his aid, grasping his forearm in her hands and moved to right him, but he shook out of her hold with a curt, "I'm fine."
Regina took a step back and raised an eyebrow at the hunched over man who had the decency to look a little sheepish.