InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You are usually wrong"

While most were relishing the return to almost normalcy in the OC, Emma couldn’t quite shake of the near constant apprehension and stress that seemed to build right behind her shoulder blades. She was glad that things had returned to what passed as normal here, although she felt horrible about the cost of it. She might not’ve known who Lina was, but Neal did and he was clearly agonised over what had happened.

It was probably just as well that Neal was taking Henry back to Boston, getting himself out of the OC for a while, busying himself with Henry. As much as she hated to see him go, it was probably for the best right then. A distraction. Just like she’d been over the last week, heading out with Henry, just going around in the bug a few times. Anything to take Neal’s mind off the memorial they’d gone to.

And now it was Emma’s turn to find a distraction. And the ranch worked well enough, Emma having taken on a few of Neal’s duties in his absence, enough to keep her overly busy most days and exhausted enough to stop thinking about the fact that her son was once again hundreds of miles away from her. And when that had stopped working, well. Then there was magic.

From the surprise attempts during the apocalyptic storm, her impromptu lesson, Emma had sort of knew it would be coming. Attempting to learn under less dire circumstances would be better for her in the long run, she knew that. And what better time than when she and Regina both needed to stop thinking about Henry and Neal, back in Boston, possibly where Henry might stay.

“You are the master, I am the student,” Emma just attempted to clear out her head, shaking her shoulders out to try and shift the stress balls, “teach me your ways, oh great one.” And really, she could probably stop being a brat about it.

“How cheeky of you,” came out Regina’s dry (drier than Death Valley itself, let’s be honest) retort. Things went back to their own brand of normalcy thanks to a price paid, and she’d been grateful for her disappeared property returning back to where it was. That chunk of her lawn, her apple tree, the crypt glamoured with a veil of magic to keep it from unwelcome eyes (it also lessened property value having it visible) - all back to their rightful spots.

Now came the distractions. Distractions from the fact that Henry was, indeed, gone, and the couple days of bliss with him were over. His absence made her feel empty. It was absolutely fucking dreadful, and one of the reasons why she’d been so against going with Neal the first time to find him. Because she knew once she laid eyes on him, she wouldn’t want to let go.

And she didn’t. Regina really didn’t.

So for now, distractions consisted of having the Savior of the Enchanted Forest in her open yard, a protective bubble around them (because if magic was happening, she didn’t want her house damaged or her neighbors to see). It wasn’t terrible. Her and Emma’s relationship didn’t have to be so strained here - even if it was difficult for the both of them to separate the events of one world with another. It just came with the territory. Regina knew they’d endure - they did in the dreams, they’d do it here too.

“From what I recall, your magic’s very….raw.” Like Zelena’s in a sense, though she wouldn’t utter that name quite yet. Telling Emma about her insane batshit sister literally green with envy was too overwhelming. Eventually, she’d get there. “You do well when you’re angry. When you’re in danger. When you want to protect someone. It’s instinct for you.”

Instinct was all well and good, and apparently she’d done well enough with Regina’s help to shield the house a little during the storms, but it didn’t really lend itself to actually learning. She wanted to be more than just reactions, more than just an automatic response to a threat. But she had time, right now, trying not to think about other things, she could take the time she needed and make herself learn.

“You’re not gonna start calling me names to get me mad are you? Cause I got all those in school and I kinda built up thicker skin.” Which actually was sort of true. Emma could take name calling easily, but the whole ‘danger’ thing was a little worrying. Not that she thought Regina would really put her in danger.

Figuring out a way to use this was a priority though. Especially if things in the OC were going to carry on in the same vein as they just had. Where people needed to make certain sacrifices for the whole place. If Henry was coming back here, if they could work that so that they could keep him, then Emma wanted to know she was able to protect him just as much as Regina was. “How um… How do we make it not just instinct then?”

Name calling. Regina may have snorted. And there may have been a chuckle mixed with that snort, mouth shaping some sort of smile. “As someone who was responsible for the name calling in school, my arsenal’s ready. But no. If only things were that easy.” If all it took was calling Emma the juvenile term of ‘poop head’ and putting glue in her hair, she would have tried that already and call it a day. A job well done, break out the rest of Caroline’s French wine.

Alas.

“We can try studying by the book.” And Regina had plenty - one in particular, out of her collection in the crypt, was out. Dressed still from work - inky black heels, the penciled dress and light blazer - she walked to her iron little bistro table (more for decor than function), picking up a hard covered tomb scrawled with sigils. She thought of just walking over and handing it to her so she could take a look, but…

A poof of violet smoke, and the book went from Regina’s hands to Emma’s. “It was my original plan with you, on the other side. Our time was pressed due to the latest circumstances, so it was scrapped and we opted for more extreme measures.”

These extreme measures were sounding more and more likely and less and less fun. At least for Emma. The book was a sudden, surprising weight in her hands, but Emma managed to right herself and not drop what might’ve been some kind of expensive family heirloom (although with Regina’s family dropping it might not have been a bad thing), likely more dangerous than a gun.

“Reading? Really?” Emma wasn’t terrible at school, and she managed well enough to get qualifications here and there where she ended up. She even got her GED in the midst of dead parents and rebellion. Flicking through the few pages at first, Emma just raised an eyebrow because seriously? This wasn’t going to distract her at all.

“Okay, which one of these lets me do that cool poofy thing you just did, cause that’d be kind of awesome for when I need a glass of water but can’t be assed getting up to go get it. I wanna learn that.” And yeah, she was probably being a little bit difficult, but that was normal, right?

“Yes, reading. Magic’s a study, not a game.” Though with the way she’d been talking Emma seemed to certainly interpret it as such, and the tongue-in-cheek comments flared annoyance. And Regina wasn’t good at hiding irritation either. Frowny red lips, furrowed black brows, russet eyes slendering.

Well, if she thought this was so goddamn funny...

There was an oak tree nearby, and old one with gangly roots and long branches. Her arm stretched out, palm facing up, and those finely manicured fingers curled inward. Nothing came to be in her palm, but the tree became animated - those branches, roots, all moved, and decidedly reached over to tangle Emma and give her a ‘hug.’ While hoisting her in the air, a couple yards above ground.

“You may laugh, make your half-assed little comments but the truth is you might want to consider the more studious angle - because you know exactly what magic can do. You’ve seen me devastate an entire population, throw fire, cast curse after curse and you should know more than anyone what the damage can do. You’ve got the potential for all that and more, and if you want it to run rampant and wild and hurt everyone you hold dear, fine. But if you actually want to control it, tame it, then your best bet is to shut up. And pay attention.”

“Hey, hey hey. Lady, put me the hell down!” Okay, this was the way less cool way to be distracted. Emma didn’t like heights, at all and there was a fucking tree cuddling her. Not in the least bit comfortable. “Regina, I have tree in my crotch, put me down!”

So Emma’s automatic response to things was to downplay it, and sure, she was probably not that great a student -she wasn’t exactly winning awards for her school work in any lifetime. She was best at deflecting with quips and sarcasm, not actually buckling down and jumping into a book of all things.

“I swear to God Regina, I will cut down another tree of yours! I have a chainsaw, I will do it!” The panic was starting to seep in and Emma really, really, really didn’t like this at all. And maybe if she wasn’t being a brat she’d already know how to magic herself out of the problem, but she was pretty sure all that would do was magic her into the tree.

“That’s rude of you,” Regina deadpanned, arms crossed over her chest, looking everything but interested in Emma’s current arboreal dilemma. Did she really think she’d just drop her to the ground? The injuries would be minimum, and she had a couple potions stocked away for those ‘in case moments,’ but no. Her intention wasn’t to simply just drop Emma straight on her ass.

This entire ‘exercise’ may be costing her a tree (and some serious landscaping costs), but she stubbornly stood her ground. “Here’s the thing: you don’t have a chainsaw. Say this place loses it’s damn marbles and suddenly, nature attacks you - like this.” Those branches may have given her an uncomfortable squeeze, just a smidge. “You have a weapon you can’t see. Magic is, essentially, your will becoming reality. You can figure out your own way out of this one.”

If she just stopped bullshitting and concentrated, maybe.

Flailing around was getting her nowhere and that was absolutely another little clench from the tree and seriously Regina? Trees weren’t meant to just suddenly hug the shit out of people, and sure, vampires weren’t meant to roam around on the streets or the end of the world come spewing out over Orange County, but that was hardly the point right now. Regina was just… Urgh!

It didn’t matter if Regina had a point or not, it wasn’t about who was in the right or not, you didn’t just attack people with trees, that was rude, that was far more rude than someone cutting off a few branches and stuff. This? This was overkill on the ‘let me teach you a lesson like you’re a four year old’ thing. “But I don’t know how.”

That was the crux of it really, wasn’t it. Emma was fine with hands on things, she was totally good about learning through watching people, even just a sort of ‘do what I do’ thing. But applying theory? Not so much. And magic, well, wasn’t that all theory? In theory, she could stop the tree. In theory she could use the magic for protection. In theory she could burn the tree to the ground and singe herself in the process. Or worse. “That’s what you’re meant to be showing me,” squirming a little more, because there was definitely a branch uncomfortably close to her crotch now, Emma groaned a little in frustration, “I’m gonna end up slicing myself, or dropping your tree in the house or screwing up somehow.”

Throwing her on a collapsing bridge was appearing to be more appealing as the seconds passed because at least there, the instinct kicked in, magic cast. “You’re not,” Regina spat, exasperated. “If you’re going to be whining about how afraid you are about actually using your magic, then maybe we shouldn’t even do this. No one should be afraid of their gift - embrace it, harness it, control it. Otherwise it controls you.”

Sure, there’d be a hiccup or two. Regina was prepared for those. When hers surfaced she killed every single goddamn window in her house and then some; she knew how it went.

“Listen to me.” A finger rose, meant to be a focus point for the flailing woman currently ensnared in nature’s grip. Any motions with that lively tree seemed to have ceased, for now. “You’re in a tree. It’s stopped moving. Your task is to get it to let go of you. I’m not asking you to set it on fire. Concentrate. Focus on it. You can do it - but if you’re not going to shut up and at least try and work through it, then I’m going to leave you trapped in that goddamn thing until you’re feeling halfassed to do it. Because don’t think I won’t just carry my sweet darling self inside and cook me a bit of dinner with a glass of wine and while I watch Desperate Housewives and while you spend the night in my yard, Swan.”

Emma was decidedly glad that Regina wasn’t an educator at all, because her tactics were seriously messed up. But there wasn’t really a trace of a lie in her voice either, and Emma was pretty sure she was still good at cold-reading people. And Regina wasn’t even a cold-read. It was in her nature to just leave Emma there until she got herself out. Even if she had to eat her way through a branch.

With everything finally stopping moving though, Emma could at least take a breath and calm herself down, trying to figure out just what kind of instincts she was meant to be listening to. Since her initial ones were to panic and freak the hell out.

So, if magic was just this whole ‘extension of will’ thing, and Emma wasn’t buying it, not really, because then it’d be easy, and nothing this powerful was easy. But she’d give it a go, since the alternative was hanging out with the tree all night and whining at Regina from a distance. She just needed to want to be on the ground? Or… no, she needed the tree to put her on the ground, to let her go.

If the tree would just put her down, she’d be fine. So here she was, in the tree, willing it to let her go. Just… put her down. This was so stupid. She’d never done something this ridiculous, not even during her hippy phase in Arizona. Trying to communicate with trees by magic. “Regina this…”

Opening her eyes, Emma was prepared to be several feet in the air, instead of being just a little off the ground as she was right then. “What the--” so, it wasn’t let her go, but the tree had definitely lowered her a good few feet. “Um… I actually don’t know what I did.”

Perhaps her methods of teaching were a bit unorthodox but she’d insist, over and over, that her style of was more merciful than Rumple’s. His way of doing things were words intricately woven in lies, deceit, games for his own gain. Regina would be stern. But she wouldn’t be ruthless.

Emma simply needed a bit of a harsh...nudge, so to say.

“There you go,” she chuckled, huskily. Mouth stretched into a satisfied smile, white teeth exposed. “Magic doesn’t necessarily always have to be violent. And I’ve seen you move something much bigger than a tree, be assured.” Like a moon, for example - it was a joint effort, but still impressive. For a rookie. “Now, do exactly what you did - and make it let go of you. You can do this, Emma. Trust me. You just have to actually try.”

And maybe, just maybe that last bit had been uttered in a more nurturing tone. Like a comforting pep-talk. Brief, but it’d be dropped quick if she retaliated with sass.

How did you do exactly what you did, when you didn’t know what you were doing in the first place? Emma didn’t think she was making it more complicated than it needed to be, she thought that magic should be complicated, right? It wasn’t like learning to drive a car, was it?

But she got the feeling that Regina was ready to just leave her there, so Emma wasn’t about to push matters with her usual wit. So she needed to work out what it was she did, and … well, she’d just sort of hoped that the tree would put her down, preferably without dropping her too hard. Or at all, that’d be good.

When her feet touched the ground, the branches unwinding from her and the tree shifting away from her, Emma tried to play off the discomfort and anxiousness by fixing her clothes, righting herself to at least appear moderately put together again. “Okay, that sucked. Magic or not, it’s mean and not fun.” Seriously, she didn’t like being stuck up trees. “I mean, the magic thing was kind of cool, cause you know, I did that, but… don’t do that again.”

Now it was appropriate to drop that ‘mean bitch’ facade, Regina’s face expressing a degree of exasperated amusement. “I could have teleported you over to a collapsing bridge and made you save yourself like I did there,” she told her, making her way to that little bistro table with the elegant iron-designed chairs, and sat. “But we’re not pressed for time. Just wanted to show you that you are a natural at this, Emma. You’ve got a lot of potential and you need to learn to control it before you blow something up.”

Or hurt someone she didn’t want to hurt. It was a very real potential, one that Regina hoped she could help eliminate. Magic was still magic, and even in the hands of the heroic ‘Savior,’ still dangerous if not tamed.

“My teaching methods might seem a bit questionable, but…” Her hand stretched out, palm faced upward and in a puff of violet, another book came into her hands, black and etched in silver. “I can assure you my ways are actually much more kinder than the way I was taught. Everything I’m going to throw at you, you can handle. You’re made of tough skin.”

Strolling over to join Regina at the table, Emma hugged herself a little -less because it was cold and more because she still wasn’t used to that whole ‘belief’ thing that people kept just lobbing at her. Even if it was Regina and it was just the magic thing. It made a little sense though, if Rumple had been the one teaching Regina, that she went a little bit off the rails. Having that little creep clogging up everything with his riddles and manipulations must’ve been bad enough.

“Well, I appreciate not throwing me off a bridge, this time.” She wondered just what insanity in Storybrooke meant she’d needed to learn her magic that fast. “And um… Sorry for just assing around at first.” But if they weren’t pressed for time here, and Emma was a natural, a little more faith in the how would probably help her learn faster.

“So… seriously, can I learn how to do that cool poofy thing?” A grin broke out on her face as she sat herself down beside Regina, “I’ll even do the reading thing.” Because hello, never losing her keys again.

How odd, to think that she could find some sort of comfort in Emma’s presence. There was a budding friendship on the other side (though the thing with Marian had the redeemed Queen a bit cross with her), and there was one here too. Regina didn’t see why not. A couple months ago the idea would have absolutely revolted her - so much rage had leaked, seeping into her very bones - but as the Queen’s heart softened, so did hers.

Life was too short to hold grudges of mistakes made in another life. No point in harboring all that baggage of anger and vengeance, when she needed to focus on her life here. Her happiness. Right now, it was Henry. It’d probably always be Henry.

“I’ll teach you,” Regina promised, thumbing through the parchment pages of the book. “Let’s make sure you learn the more simple things before we throw the more complicated tricks your way, hm? I might even teach you a lot quicker if you sass me a bit less.” No, she wasn’t all that offended by Emma’s snark, not in the grand scheme of things - she even passed her a genuine grin with a dash of amusement. “Henry’s going to want to be interested to see what you can do.”

Dream wise, Emma was still putting it all together. She’d yet to figure out what the hell was going on with Gold, dealing with Tamara and everything attached to that can of worms while working herself through Henry’s discovery of her lie and the feelings that were attached to that Emma and Neal. It was ridiculously complicated and Emma wasn’t really thinking about it if she were honest.

Her dreams tended to be a rollercoaster anyway.

And if she got to learn some magic while ignoring it, the added distraction from everything, that was enough to keep her from getting too sassy with the former Evil Queen. “Starting out simple, okay, how simple?” Realistically, simple was a good idea, since she was still largely overwhelmed by it all. But then the mention of Henry looking to her for the magical tricks was laughable.

“I think you’re going to be the cool mom that does magic, I’ll just be the one that feeds him junk and plays video games with him.” Magic with Henry nearby? Not until she knew for sure she wasn’t going to do something that made things spontaneously combust.

The cool mom that does magic. A title that rendered the her iron heart into a puddle of goo; it eased her into a fond smile, a throaty chuckle. “Simple enough to build you up, trust me,” Regina insisted, even if that suggestion may be a bit hard to stomach - she assumed Emma still had some conflicting feelings about her, and who could blame her, with everything she dreamt? It was all a work in progress and all she could do was exercise the concept of patience.

A challenge itself, but she’d been working on it.

“Thank you, by the way. For letting me be involved with him.” A deep breath of air was sucked in, then loudly exhaled. “You didn’t have to - but you don’t know how much I...appreciate it.” Maybe Henry didn’t know how important he was to her but maybe, one day, he will. He’d understand. “Ever since I first dreamt about him, I...couldn’t get him out of my head. Or my heart, if we’re going to painfully honest with a dash of cheesy.”

Emma gave a soft smile. Yes, things with Regina were difficult to really put aside sometimes. After dreaming about the poison, the curse she had to break from Henry before he died, Graham. It was hard to put it to one side and remind herself that this was not that person. And even then, it was very clear that Regina was trying. “I never intended to take him away from you, you know.” Not in the dreams, not here either. If they had Henry, they all had Henry. “And Neal said you’ve been really important to him. And lets face it, you were his mom before I was.”

The idea that she could barge in, claim rights that weren’t really hers. It didn’t sit entirely well with Emma. She knew that she just wanted what was right for Henry, and sometimes that was being away from Regina. But it didn’t change the fact that Regina was ‘mom’ too. “I’m sorry you need to be ‘aunt’ Regina just now. But… you’re about as equipped for this as I am and… you know more.”

They were parents, and even if it was just in one world, they were Henry’s parents. Surely they could make the three-parent-team thing work. “I mean, it’s not like you poison him again or anything, right?” Okay, so she was still a little bit bitter about that.

“That poison wasn’t meant to be for him,” came Regina’s retort, and, yes, the look she was giving Emma signified that she was not fucking amused, but that memory had likely been a fresh imprint still. It was all during her downward spiral into darkness, on the verge of losing and Henry proved to be more clever than she liked. Granted, there was really nothing Regina could do to justify what happened - but she’d never knowingly do anything that would hurt Henry. Ever.

The killer look eased, though, replaced by something similar to exhaustion. “Trust me, every time I think about that I’ve got a little more self-loathe to pile on.” A consequence of dreaming with so much hate and blind vengeance. “But I’m okay with being ‘Aunt Regina.’ There’s one point where all he calls me is ‘Madam Mayor’ and it was…hard, not having him see me as even a part of family. I just...want to make sure he’s okay. And help to make sure that he stays okay. And grows up and is happy. That’s all we could ever want for him, especially if we’re bringing him here.”

They all had regrets, right? And the hard part was probably reliving that over and over, never learning from it. Emma couldn’t imagine it, mostly glad that she hadn’t had to rehash things she was dreaming yet -once was enough in her opinion. And she wasn’t the villain of her own life either.

“That’d be rough, yeah.” And while Emma wasn’t holding out hope for ‘mom’, not so soon, she knew that eventually she might be able to get that, just the same as Henry called her in dreams, she got Emma and ‘mom’ at time and… that was pretty cool. But Regina was going from mom to ‘aunt’ and that would likely still suck, even if she was still a huge part of Henry’s life.

“Well, there’s still sleep-overs, and I guess if he’s here, you know, the utter insanity that happens here like all the time, he’ll definitely need the magical element of assistance. And… you’re better than me.” Regina’s protection, even if she had in the past been what needed protecting from (in some regards) well, that’d help everyone transition to bringing him here, with everything that could potentially happen. “And… I guess it depends on if we tell him too. About the dreams and stuff…”

Which was a possibility, eventually.

“I’m always available for babysitting,” she quipped, trying to bring back a sincere smile - and she did succeed, but was teetering on the edge of jaded. All of this had made her feel significantly older than she was, maybe a tad bit wiser. Raising Henry would be a group effort. Definitely much easier than being a single parent - which was what she exactly was, in Storybrooke. All the feedings, the diaper changes, spit ups and restless fevers. Regina remembered every single thing, every detail. The teething, his first steps, first words.

Regina could yearn for the time she had with him in another life or focus on him here, and the last option seemed to be the most productive. And the healthier mindset. “I think he can stomach it, but needs to get a bit more acclimated before we drop the ball. It’ll just reinforce the fact that no matter what, he’ll never be alone - and I don’t think there’s anyone quite as loved as he is.”

It was getting late, and soon the sun would completely set. Hues of blush, lavender and orange all swirled, twilight soon approaching. A glance went to her wrist watch (encrusted with a couple diamonds like the refined little snob she was), before she lift those eyes to Emma. “You’re by any chance hungry? I hear your cooking skills are kind of lacking, and I think I’m a bit proficient in that, too.”

Easing Henry into things would be the best option, and it seemed like everyone around here shared the same kind of sense that there was in a way in Storybrooke. It wasn’t like Henry would really be alone -he’d have extended family, his father’s friends, Regina’s friends, Emma’s too. They’d likely end up with a big group, because Henry was exceptionally easy to love.

“You know, it’d be great for my ego if you could be bad at something. Just one thing, that’s all I’m saying.” She was teasing, really, it was a little comforting that Regina was constantly ridiculously put together and capable -less so when Emma was dreaming about trying to outsmart her, but here it was better that way. “I’m starved, and I missed out on actually tasting your cooking in Storybrooke.” Since she was aware that the dwarves had scarfed the lasagne Regina made for the Welcome Home gathering they’d had after she and Mary Margaret got home from the Enchanted Forest.

“You’ll learn,” Regina insisted and rose to her feet. She’d poof the books back into her vault in a minute. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be able to have your own cloud of purple teleportation and be proficient in the art of toast.” Two very valuable skills - so Emma could get her box of cookies even from the couch and avoid burning down her apartment. Worse than a bachelor, that one.

The company wasn’t minded, though. Cooking and baking proved to be very therapeutic and it was a productive outlet, too - and much more sane in comparison to ripping out hearts and choking people. “I think we’re making progress, though. You eating my cooking.” A flare of both those eyebrows, a hint of amusement. “I can prove to you I’m actually not planning to poison you, if you’re willing to take the risk.”

Hah, hah. Regina could make jokes about it too sometimes.

See, and Emma had been avoiding that particular dig. “You know, when we’re joking about attempted murder, people might get the wrong idea.” They might need to watch that when Henry was around, but really it was the same thing as having an inside joke, right?

But it was progressing to the point where it was just that, joking. Emma was all for them being friends and getting along, not just for Henry’s sake either. “Let’s work up to an apple turnover though. Stick to safer things for now.”