A Curse Upon Thee 2-17

“I simply do not understand you.”

Regina stood behind the scarred excuse for a desk, manicured fingernails tapping a restless rhythm against the fake wood. For Regina Mills, who had spent the better part of three decades surrounded by the aroma of polished mahogany and floral arrangements as fresh as they were breathtaking to view, simply breathing in the Pine-Sol scented room felt like an insult.

She stood behind her current chosen target of the morning, arms crossed tightly over a charcoal-grey blazer as she watched the self-proclaimed hero of the Enchanted Forest struggle with a staple remover.

She had little else to do today after all.

She’d left Henry behind at David’s apartment this morning after their little breakfast together, her son waving back at her as she left, the sight of him actually smiling her way enough to nearly break her heart all over again. 

Things had been better between them, of course. 

Marginally. 

Ever since the horrific, ash-stained nightmare with Daniel in the stables a few days ago, the ice between them had begun to thaw. They were actually speaking again, Henry looking at her with something closer to the affection she hadn’t seen from him in over a year.

But even still… Regina bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to kill the sigh rising in her throat. Even still, he went home to you.

To distract herself from the hollow cavern in her chest, she chose her favorite pastime: needling the prince.

“You call yourself Mayor…” Regina drawled, tone a silken ribbon slicing through the stifling quiet of the station.

“Don’t think I have actually.”

“You possess the title of Mayor…” She allowed him that much, aware the man didn’t exactly revel in the role. “Ridiculous as that is.”

“First time I’m hearing that from you.”

And it won’t be the last. Dark eyes rolled in her skull at the lazy mutter of sarcasm the man shot back her way. “Yet you insist upon sequestering yourself in this drab little closet. What is the point of stealing my crown if you refuse to use the perks, Charming?”

David Nolan didn’t look up from the stack of incident reports, Prince Charming looking every inch the misplaced shepherd trying to decipher modern bureaucracy.

“An entire expansive office awaits you at City Hall,” Regina pressed, heels clicking on linoleum as she leaned over his shoulder to almost whisper in his ear. “Vaulted ceilings. Natural light. A desk that doesn’t wobble every time you sign a simple form. And you have yet to even step inside it.”

“I’m sure I’ll get to it eventually.” David paused his writing but he didn’t bother to look up from the paperwork. “Besides, I don’t believe this job is about the perks, Regina.”

“Oh, please.” Regina sneered, eyes rolling upward again — this time so high she could count the water-stained ceiling tiles. “Spare me the honor and humility, my prince. You were terrible at holding court then and just as bad at it now. It’s exhausting to listen to.”

Blue eyes met her properly as Charming finally turned his chair, his expression oddly hard and almost completely devoid of the hero’s usual and frustratingly optimistic warmth. “And you could spare me your presence, my queen. Yet here we both are.”

“Well, well, well.” A slow smile curled the edges of Regina’s painted lips, the sheer novelty of the son of the sheperd actually throwing a decent barb back at her almost refreshing. “Look who finally has some bite to him.”

David just rolled his eyes, turning his chair back around and picking up his pen to assault the paperwork once more.

Silence stretched at length again, but the venom just wasn’t there anymore. The former mayor allowed herself a sigh as she watched him scratch a signature across a form, the last flare of anger in her chest sputtering out to leave behind something cold and hollow. 

 Fighting this man over desk space was a waste of breath so she decided to take pity on him. 

…Am I? Being truthful, she wasn’t sure if she was simply taking pity on herself, desperate to talk about the only person in this miserable town that actually mattered to both of them.

“How is he?”

The question slipped out, her poised rhythm abandoning her as her voice went soft; almost humiliating in its rawness.

David’s pen paused again. “Henry is… he’s good. He really is, Regina.” 

That was something, at least. “And?”

He didn’t turn around this time, but his posture softened just a fraction; broad shoulders easing as the question caught up to him. “He’s picking out new books to read every couple of days from the library.”

“But?” Regina prompted, her sharp instincts catching the hesitation in his tone.

“But…” A sigh spilled out of him as punctuation, the prince rubbing a heavy hand over his face as he leaned back in a chair that creaked its disapproval. “He’s confused. About what he did that day.”

Regina flinched, shoulder brushing the edge of a filing cabinet as she stumbled back.

David didn’t address that, simply sighing again louder and slower. “We haven’t really talked about it, but he’s still trying to process… everything.”

Everything. Regina nodded despite herself. Of course.

She could still see the blinding light pouring from her son’s small palms, searing through the necrotic flesh of the Revenant that was once her Daniel. She had spent a large portion of her youth mastering the dark, years studying the corrosive, transactional mechanics of magic, and yet she was at a loss. 

Not a curse or a spell, all she had seen and felt was pure unadulterated light.

She didn’t even know what that light was. She barely knew what it had done, only that it had burned with a purity that made her feel like sludge. 

The closest she could compare it to was the complete opposite of a curse, almost the reverse.

She hadn’t had the courage to bring it up with Henry during their brief meals over the last few days. How could she? How could she ask her son to explain a miracle when she was the author of every nightmare he had ever faced?

“I know.” Hands curled tightly into the fabric of her blazer as both words left her in a half-choked whisper. “I am… I’m trying to understand what it is, too.”

David grunted, a low rumble of agreement. He picked up a piece of paper, stared at it blindly for a moment, and set it aside. He cleared his throat, changing the subject with the grace of a swinging broadsword. “For what it’s worth… I wouldn’t mind too much if you spent more time with him. In the evenings.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed instantly, defensive walls slamming back into place. “Is that Henry’s request, or yours?” she shot back, her tone sharpening. “Are you simply tired of playing the doting grandfather, David?”

“No. It’s Henry and no, I’m not.” David scoffed, shaking his head as that warmth came back to his eyes, the prince looking at her with an unapologetic honesty that made her want to hit him. “I know you won’t hurt him, Regina. I really do. But Henry’s still… I guess you could say he’s a little bit iffy.”

“You could say?”

“I do say.” David’s response landed with the authority of both offices, his voice flat and honest in a way that she knew he wouldn’t back down from. “Especially considering you tried to kill Emma, and you know… accidentally almost killed him in the process.”

Shame, hot and absolute, burned the back of Regina’s neck as she looked away. The sting in her eyes was hard to ignore but she managed it regardless, swallowing a knot of grief that almost choked her on its way down. He’s right… 

David and Henry both.

She hated it of course, hated that David could even say something like that to her face; whether he meant any malice by it or not.

More than that, she hated that her own son had to be wary of her. 

And she hated exactly who it reminded her of, another mother that acted just the same.

“W-well,” The slight tremble in her voice was buried under a laugh she forced out, a brittle smirk on her face she hoped was stronger than it felt. “I’ve told that boy a thousand times not to eat everything he sees.”

“Yeah.” David let out a breath of his own that could have been a laugh. “Yeah. He is a growing boy. They tend to do that.” He tapped his pen against the desk, tension in the room finally deflating into something manageable. “What else can I do for you, Regina?”

Before she could formulate a suitably biting exit line, the heavy glass doors of the sheriff’s station practically exploded inward. “Stop!”

Glass rattled violently in its frame as Ruby Lucas burst into the lobby, the girl a hyperventilating mess, chest heaving as she dragged something—someone—behind her. “Stop fucking everything!”

David burst out of his chair, the heavy wood scraping loudly against the linoleum. His hand instantly dropped to his hip, his fingers locking around the leather pommel of the broadsword the dwarves had forged for him. The steel sang a sharp note as he drew it a clean three inches from the scabbard. “Ruby, what the h—”

Regina rolled her eyes, sneer firmly back in place as she turned toward the commotion. “Oh, do put that ridiculous thing aw—”

The word died in her throat, air suddenly sucked from her lungs. Regina took a staggering step backward into the cabinet again, one perfectly manicured hand flying up to cover her mouth.

Ruby wasn’t alone, a tall broad-shouldered man stumbling through the threshold right behind her in a mess of dark denim and unkempt hair.

It was impossible.

She knew it was impossible.

She had stood in the depths of her vault, glowing heart pulsing hard in her fist, and squeezed with all her remaining magic and might until it turned to dust.

With eyes wide open, Regina stared at the dead man standing in the lobby.

“Graham?”