Henry Townshend is a ghost magnet (room_302) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-04-13 18:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, henry townshend, regina mills (evil queen) |
Who: Henry Townshend and Regina Mills
What: Regina gives Henry his heart back
Where: Henry's apartment
When: Yeseterday afternoon
Warnings: Minor feels and more hands in Henry's chest
Status: Complete!
Hiding Henry’s heart in plain sight. How clever of the scoundrel, really. Even beyond the grave Killian had this uncanny habit of rolling her eyes and making her sigh, and it was astounding how much she wanted him to do all that in the living world too - but she supposed that was how love worked. That desire of wanting to be around them even if they had this innate ability of (fondly) getting on your nerves.
Instead of wallowing in a pit of suffocating grief, Regina had honed that energy on another focus. A plan, inspired by Emma’s course of action in the dreams with necessary improvisations. It’d involve gaining access into the Underworld, maybe even haggling with Hades himself. A risk she was more than happy to take, but there were a couple things that needed to be done first.
Such as returning a stolen heart.
Captain Dark One had hid it in her own Vault of Hearts (nothing she collected here, it was merely a very bizarre dream gift that came with the crypt), a dash of glamour to conceal it - it was how she was able to detect it in the first place, because there was a zing of magic that didn’t quite vibrate cohesively with her own signature. He’d done it on purpose, she was sure of it.
Because despite darkness, it was still Killian.
With a box in her hands, the soft hum of a thumpthumpthump resonating from it, she knocked on Henry’s apartment door.
Henry had been doing a lot of thinking since losing his heart. Honestly, without the ability to have desire or derive enjoyment from things he normally would have done to pass the time, he hadn’t been really able to do much else but think. After days of pensive thought he had come to the conclusion that there were lessons to be learned from his experience. First: if someone you know is acting strange in Orange County, it was best to alert someone with magical know-how before agreeing to do errands for them. Especially if those errands involve dragon scales and blood. Second: do not make deals with anyone with the moniker Dark One. Third: if you do end up making a deal with anyone with said moniker, do not allow anyone to talk you into making adjustments to said deal. Fourth (and this somewhat tied into Lesson Three): stop being so goddamn helpful.
Henry had learned other things as well, mostly about the human spirit, it’s determination, how it could stand stalwart in the face of uncertainty, how loyal it could be, how twisted it could become and how it could still come through even after being swallowed up by absolute darkness. All were lessons he would not soon be forgetting.
The final conclusion he had come to just as Regina knocked on his door was just how fucking boring it was to be without his heart - how differently he was treated, how differently he himself had thought and acted. It had all become very old and very tedious. Henry could not have imagined continuing on the rest of his life like this and would have prefered death himself over continuing on. It was very fortunate indeed that Regina had been able to locate his heart in her crypt. Clever hiding place indeed. If Henry hadn’t known better, he would have said Kilian had wanted Regina to find it. Then again…maybe he had.
He answered Regina’s knock promptly, almost as if he’d been standing in his living room looking at his door since she had contacted him of her discovery. Immediately his eyes fell on the box in her hands. He could hear the thumping from within and it caused him to raise a brow and move his hand to his chest. “Is that it?” The question sounded more like a statement. “It’s...beating?”
Out of everyone, Regina knew what it was like. To exist without a heart - because she had ripped out her own to make her decisions easier, and to keep Zelena from using it as an ingredient for her time-traveling spell (though she’d gotten her hands on it, the green bitch). Without it everything felt hollow, and empty, and lonely, but without it she was capable of the worst things. Such were the things someone of the title of evil queen had chosen to live, until her enemies became her family and a semblance of happiness was reached.
“It’s beating,” she confirmed, a crooked smile on those berry-red lips. “And it’s yours. Killian never meant to hide it too well.” A part of him knew what he was doing, a part of him didn’t want to go to this extent but he’d been so sure he was doing what was best for them while he carried the mantle of the Dark One. “I’d rather return it completely within the confines of your apartment, however. Someone could walk into this hallway and I’m not exactly in the best mood to answer questions politely when it comes to strangers.”
Henry nodded and stepped back. He motioned Regina inside his apartment and once she was safely within, closed the door behind her. Inside the apartment was clean and tidy. No signs of guests, no random articles of clothing on the floor. If asked, he probably would admit that once Kenzi has been spirited away to what was believed to be safety, he had been lonely. Baring death as an option, Henry had been prepared to shut himself away as that last remaining reminder of what Killian had turned into, had been preparing to do and at the eleventh hour sacrificed himself to stop. It had seemed like the proper thing to do so others could carry on with their lives, grow, move on. Henry had accepted his fate. Just him and Satan’s Ass Hole. Not an ideal situation, but logically, the best for everyone.
He was lucky there were those, like Regina, who would not let him resign quite so easily.
“What do you need me to do?” He asked. Killian hadn’t been quite as polite when he’d taken Henry’s heart in the first place. He’d just sort of strong armed his way into Henry’s space, taken what he wanted and left. Henry wondered if it would be the same in reverse.
Well, Regina half-expected to a mess to greet her - boys in her experience were messy, always somehow losing bits of their laundry around her house and in the oddest of places (like a sock in decorative vase, what the hell?). But all that apartment examination to the side, she sent the small chest down on the coffee table and unlatched it. Revealed inside was a heart, but it wasn’t bloody or fleshy like someone would initially assume. Its rhythmic beating was more succinct, and the glow was a harsh, bright red.
“Stand there,” she instructed nonchalantly, gently scooping it into her hands as if it was made from glass. Henry had been an innocent in all this, dealing with their very complicated bleed over when it came to their dreams. Perhaps Killian couldn’t bring himself to hold the heart of anyone else hostage? He had a complicated relationship with all of them while consumed in darkness, and he couldn’t even bring himself to harm Emma despite the bubbling rage towards their rotundly pregnant savior. “It’ll feel uncomfortable, maybe a little painful in an odd way, but I’ll make this quick.”
Which she did, as promised, right as she uttered those words - her fingers curled over the heart, then she literally fisted his chest to lodge it back in there. Nothing gory, nothing morbid, nothing that would create permanent damage, and once it was in, her hand was pulled right back out.
And just like that, he was whole again.
As screwed up as it may have sounded, by now Henry was used to having hands in his chest. There were ghosts in his dreams who drained his energy by shoving their arms all the way up to their elbows inside him. Then there had been the two headed monster he and Revy had fought in the Fog, who had seemed determined to squeeze his heart like an overripe tomato if he hadn’t come to the conclusion Silent Hill believed he should. Then Killian stealing his Magic Heart - as Revy put it - before he’d even had a chance to react and now...this.
Henry did as Regina instructed and stood perfectly still where he was. He watched her lift his heart from the box. It was so…weird to see it in her hands. An actual physical representation of...his soul? His emotions? He still wasn’t entirely sure what it was. It had been easy to just say it was his emotions since they were what seemed to be missing.
Henry stared at the object in Regina’s hand. It was hart to believe that the object, red and glowing, beating as though it were alive was what made him Henry. Did everyone have something similar inside them? Or had Killian simply given it a physical form when he’d reached in and taken it? How long would it have been able to survive outside of Henry’s body? How much longer would he have survived without it?
Henry had so many questions he did not dare ask. He wanted this over as fast as possible. He looked up at Regina and nodded, bracing himself to receive his heart back finally.
Henry sucked in an involuntary breath when Regina shoved her hand with his heart into his chest. It didn’t hurt, really. The two-headed monster had hurt him considerably more when it had done the same thing. It was uncomfortable more than anything else. At least Regina’s hands were warm, which was more than Henry could say for anything else that had stuffed their hands inside him recently.
What may have been classified as painful was the sudden feeling of not being able to breath. It was similar to the sensation of having your breath taken from you while out walking in a high wind, or maybe more extremely described as having something lodged in your windpipe in such a way that sucking air in was impossible. For a brief moment, panic settled.
Panic. The first goddamn thing Henry had felt in over a week that wasn’t hunger, pain or sheer tedium.
Thankfully, Regina withdrew her hand as quickly as she had thrust it in. An emptiness Henry hadn’t even been aware of suddenly felt full again. He was whole. Complete. He looked up at Regina as a whole slew of emotions hit him at once. Relief, gratitude, anger, guilt and grief all fought for control over his expression. He opened his mouth to say something and when nothing came forth, closed it. He tried again, opening his mouth to speak, but again the warring emotions refused to let him do so, so he closed it again. The action made him look a little like a fish dragged out of water.
“It’s odd, the first time it happens,” Regina deadpanned, biting back a sigh as she dusted her hands off. Heart returned. Mission accomplished. But she thought it best to stay for a little bit until Henry felt…better? Maybe not so at lost for words - having that part of yourself back was intense after it’d been missing for awhile. “Take a seat, take a deep breath, relax. You’re fine.”
His heart hadn’t been tampered with in any way; it’d been safe throughout their whole Dark One debacle. “Would you like me to get you a glass of water? Something?” Kenzi would probably come by sometime in the near future to make sure he was alright - they were close, and she had been concerned about the wellbeing of her friend.
Henry finally found his voice. “Water, yeah.” He said breathlessly. “Glasses are in the cupboard...next to the sink.” Then he thought he should do as Regina said and sit down before he fell down.
He didn’t stay seated for long before he was on his feet again. He started pacing around his living room trying to sort out his reacquired heart and everything that had been shoved back into him. His feelings were weird, conflicting, physically painful. Gone was the logic and in its place was confusion and chaos. He wanted to yell and scream and make accusations and demand answers. However, Regina didn’t deserve to be dumped on or raged at. Not while Henry had no control over what was going on inside his head and less control over what would come flying out of his mouth. This wasn’t her fault.
After another pass around the coffee table he stopped suddenly and turned towards Regina. “Rum, actually,” he said. “There’s a bottle in uh...in one of the cabinets near the stove. I think...I need that more than water right now.”
Hm, well. Obviously there was a lot he needed to sort out and compartmentalize - hence the restless pacing - and Regina made sure to stay out of his way while he expelled all that extra rush of energy, mainly by entering the kitchen. “You need both,” she insisted, locating the glasses. Three of them. One for water, two for rum.
Now, rum wasn’t her drink. This queen didn’t do rum, and she’d even told that to the pirate all the way back during their, ah, adventures in Neverland. It’d been his poison of choice there, and he’d been acquiring more of a taste here as the dreams progressed. For once she found herself wanting a glass. Just one. Perhaps in his honor.
“Drink the water first,” Regina advised after handing him the two cups. One was to herself. “Do you have any questions? Comments? Concerns? I know you’ve been in the thick of it in one of the most unfortunate ways.”
Henry stared at her. As much as he didn’t want to take anything out on Regina, keeping everything pent up inside him was proving to be far more difficult than he would have liked. He honestly felt as though he were going to explode.
”Concerns?!” he snapped at her. “Yeah I got a couple of fucking concerns!” It took a lot for Henry to get truly angry. Hell, Revy could smack him in the nuts and give him purple nurples all day long before he got to any kind of breaking point. However, being left without his heart, forced to sit on the sidelines, waiting and wondering what was happening? Not being able to offer the support his friends needed? Being the useless human in a world wind of fucking magic? Wondering if he was going to spend the rest of his life as some kind of cold robot? Yeah, that made him angry and that anger seemed to be winning out over all the chaos going on side him. “First off, where the hell is Kenzi? You dragged her out of here to somewhere ‘safe’ and her brother gets fucking killed in front of her!” The second the words were out of his mouth Henry regretted saying them, a look of same was plastered all over his face.
As quickly as it had overwhelmed him, the anger left Henry and took all that pent up restless energy with it. He sat heavily on the edge of his couch and pressed his hands to his face for a moment. In a much quieter and calmer voice he said. “I’m sorry, Regina. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you did what you thought was right.”
Henry didn’t necessarily need to walk on eggshells with her, because if there was someone who could take an astounding amount of emotional beating, it was her. Dreams had taught her she could endure anything no matter how cracked it caused her to be, and there was a part of her that believed his words. That blamed herself for what happened in both illogical and logical ways.
The Dark One’s curse had chosen her. It was precisely how it all began, too - tendrils of darkness encasing her in a funnel, a storm overhead, yet Emma indulged in her cliche brand of heroics and took it upon herself. Those same heroics had caused her to tether Killian’s soul to the freshly forged Excalibur, making him a slave to the curse as well. None of those events happened here and yet, he suffered for them - his life the ultimate price.
If only things had worked out perfectly here, if only certain things didn’t happen and other things did. If only. Regina could torture herself with speculations, or force herself to accept the hard truth - she had to kill him, even though letting him die as Killian Jones was the hardest decision of love she had to make - and move on to bringing him back.
Absolutely fucking splendid thing she had some kind of liquor in her hands. Rum, with hints of caramel, and sugar cane sweetness. A sip was taken while the boy threw his tantrum, she could have sworn she swallowed glass with it too - cutting up her throat, making it hurt. Everything was raw, but she did well putting forth a very collected facade while most around her crumbled. Keep it together, your highness.
“Kenzi’s home,” she calmly told him, an answer to at least one of his questions. “Safe and sound. He was after her heart, Henry.” Gods, it almost sounded as if she was talking to her son when his name rolled off her tongue. “He almost got to it, too, before he realized what he was doing - and we did what we had to do.”
“I know you did,” Henry said quietly. He was looking at his feet, unable to bring his face up to meet Regina’s. Speculation and self doubt had taken over where the anger had been a few moments earlier. If he’d been paying attention. If he’d just said something sooner. If he had been stronger or smarter. If had had been anyone other than himself, the squishy pathetic little human who had just wanted to help his friends. If he had been any of those things, maybe he could have done something to change this. Maybe things would have turned out differently for all of them.
Maybes weren’t going to solve anything, and maybes weren’t going to bring Killian back or make Kenzi feel better. Henry sighed miserably and raked his fingernails over his scalp.
“I know you did what you had to do,” he repeated, “I’m sorry for what I said and I’m sorry I screwed up. I just wanted…” he shook his head. Good intentions meant nothing. He had to be strong and keep everything together for Kenzi, his friend who refused to leave him. And for Regina to, even if she didn’t want it. It was the least he could do. Besides, it was just the way he’d always been and would continue to be.
He looked up at her finally, tired and emotionally drained. “Thank you for bringing my heart back, Regina.”
“You wanted to help, I know,” she finished for him as she ambled to the couch, where she joined him but kept herself close to the edge. It was natural instinct. See a friend in danger, drop everything you’re doing to lend a hand - she’d done it herself, especially now that her friends here had become family. Nothing hurt more when you couldn’t help and everything went to absolute shit. “You’re not the first person that was fooled in all this. We can think of all the ways we could have handled the situation differently, but nothing will change what happened. For what it’s worth, me tricking him wasn’t intended to hurt you in the process, and I’m sorry he did.”
In truth, Regina needed to get his attention somehow. Killian had been dodging all sorts of contact, and this way it worked - at a cost she should have anticipated. Poke the beast hard enough and he’ll bite. But he retained a sense of self throughout all that; it was something to take comfort in, sort of.
Her hand rested over the glass, waiting before she took another taste of such a token pirate drink. “We’re going to do a seance. To see if he’s in a limbo.” Right now, she didn’t want to indulge details about their Underworld expedition - she was scared enough to have let Kenzi known about it, and she didn’t want to ignite false hope and have it shattered if there was no answer on the other side. “If you want to join, feel free. Kenzi might benefit from having a friend involved, one who knows firsthand what happened.”
Henry shrugged. It had crossed his mind once while he was heartless that Regina may have used him as bait. Not being Killian’s sibling or lover, he could be considered expendable. But even without his heart, Henry had quickly dismissed the idea. He’d volunteered for the ruse and that was that as far as he was concerned.
“It’s not like you twisted my arm,” he said. And yeah, maybe Regina should have known what Killian was capable of, but Henry had gone with the plan knowing full well that Killian was dangerous. “We both kind of screwed the pooch with the blood.”
He picked up his glass finally and gulped down a couple of healthy mouthfuls of rum. The anger was gone, depression and loss sinking in. It was kind of ironic, now that he had his emotions back he looked to numb them. Just a little, though. Take the hairy edge off of what he’d been through and keep from thinking about wouldas, couldas and shouldas.
“A seance?” He questioned with raised brows. All Henry knew about seances was what he’d seen on TV or in the horror movies Kenzi had him watch. He had no idea if seances actually worked like they did in those works of fiction, but it was worth a try. After all, he dreamed of ghosts all the goddamn time. Moaning and groaning and sucking his energy dry. Not to mention a plethora of other weird shit that could clearly be classified as paranormal. So why the hell wouldn’t it work? And he wanted to be there for Kenzi. Like Regina had aptly pointed out, she was his friend and she may need him. “Yeah, sure. Of course I’ll join. Just tell me when and where.”
A seance was the easiest way to refer to it. It was a simple ritual, technically - she performed it in the dreams to contact her mother for intel on her batshit sister of the Wicked West, and the prime components of it were the ‘special tea’ (a venomous concoction meant to summon a wormhole into the other side), the murder weapon, and murderer. Getting those last two in the same room for the ceremony presented some difficulty across the board, but she was able to create a variation of it to see if Neal’s friend was on the other side of the line or not.
At least for this round, they’d have two out of the three. The tea, and the murderer. It’d work, somehow.
“I’ll let you know, then,” she promised and removed her palm from the glass - just to stare into the amber drink. “If all goes well there, then we’ll set another plan in motion. But that’s yet to be announced. It will take place at my house.”
Another plan. What did Regina mean by that? There was a part of Henry that wanted to know, but he stopped himself before he asked. He had only just met Regina, but he got the impression she was a woman who did not share things easily. Henry understood that, he was similar. Besides, she had no reason to share her plans with him, it wasn’t as though he could lend her any kind of help, especially the magical kind. It didn’t stop him from wanting to.
Henry sighed. Help. That was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Why did he want to help? Killian had robbed him of something valuable in a way that was more invasive than any home invasion and then left him to rot. Even if he had left Henry’s heart in Regina’s crypt in hopes that someone would find it, what if the queen hadn’t found it? What if something had happened to her to keep her from finding it? Would somebody else have found it? Would anyone have even thought to look there?
Henry could feel his face growing hot as anger pushed its way back to the forefront. Anger at Killian for what he had done and anger at himself for being upset with Killian in the first place. The guy was still his friend and Henry didn’t give up on his friends easily. That was what made this particular bout of anger all the more painful and confusing.
Henry finished off the rest of his drink in another two gulps and set the empty glass down on the table. “I’ll be there,” he promised. “For Kenzi.” He could at least do that if nothing else.
Might do Henry some good too, to perhaps communicate with Killian while the Dark One’s curse wasn’t ravaging his mind and heart and distorting everything and all he was. Because the spell corrupted, ate away at you and everyone you ever loved; it was a destructive force, and they all felt it to varying degrees. From being in danger of death to losing someone you loved - magic’s consequences had a wide-range of effects.
Regina chuckled mirthlessly, then finished the rest of her drink in one impressive gulp. “Good. I trust your stomach isn’t weak. Contacting the dead isn’t always the smoothest of rides,” she warned. “But if you’ve survived this place so long and that stupid fog, then you’ll be fine.”
Henry shrugged again. He was doing a lot of that it seemed. The rum was doing its job and dampening his anger and feelings of loss and grief and guilt for the most part. Shrugging seemed to be his default response at the moment. “My stomach’s strong enough,” he said. “My Dreams have seen to that. I’ve seen some pretty disgusting and god awful things. I watched a dude set himself on fire and burn alive in front of me. Burning hair and flesh stinks. If I can handle that without puking, I think I can handle anything.” He’d also seen the Twilight Princess skewer someone with her hair and Revy shoot a couple of thugs in cold blood only a month ago and had kept his shit together. Hell, the entire scene had been down right fascinating and at the time, he’d even wanted to document just how fucking cool Midna had looked in her full glory among the wreckage of the old adult toy shop.
Henry was tougher than he looked, despite all the crazy he’d endured he always managed to come through on the other side unphased. Sometimes he wondered if the reason why he hadn’t been driven insane yet was because he was already a little bit insane. That would explain a lot, actually.
“You not puking while we make contact with the other side would be much preferred,” Regina deadpanned, a raven brow arched. But she trusted he’d be fine, really - he managed to keep his lunch on the inside when it came to having his heart ripped out and returned. It should go smoothly. Killian wasn’t a hostile spirit in theory, and he wouldn’t have it out for them, and with Neal’s information on what things were like when you were dead, there was a window for the pirate to come up and make his presence known.
In pleasantly obnoxious ways, she was sure of it.
Rum finished, she stood from the couch. “I’ll leave you be, then - I’m sure you’ve got some things to sort out?” Mentally, emotionally. Maybe have someone who knew him enough to provide company come around. “And I’ve got preparations to take care of.”
Henry had a lot of things to sort out and it was probably best he do so in private. When it came to personal shit like feelings and whatever, Henry preferred to keep to himself. It was safer for him that way, so life had taught him. He was also exhausted physically and mentally. Sleep would do him some good. Some dreamless sleep if he could at all get away with it. Once he’d rested and got his head (or heart as the case were) screwed back on correctly he’d send Kenzi a text to see how she was doing. He’d text Revy and Rapunzel too to let them both know he was back to normal.
“Of course,” Henry got to his feet to walk Regina to the door. He paused once he reached it. He wanted to tell Regina how sorry he was that everything had turned out the way it had and that he’d been angry - still was to a degree. But the word “sorry” just wasn’t strong enough. After he stood there a few moments awkwardly looking as though he had more to say, Henry sighed, cursed himself and opened the door. “I’ll talk to you soon, Regina. Thank you again for returning my heart.”
Regina figured as much. Recent events proved to be emotionally, physically, and mentally taxing. It was best for him to wind down and reflect, or drink, or however he decided to cope with what happened to him and around him. If this were any other day there could perhaps be a cup of coffee, one of those ‘getting to know you’ talks considering how close he and Killian’s sister were (and everyone knew how fiercely overprotective he was of his younger look-alike), but her mind continued to races a million miles per second. Refusing to accept what happened as a finality, an end to this story arc - and coming up with a tentative blueprint to fix all that happened.
Mouth tilted into what seemed like a smile, she stepped through the exit. “We weren’t going to let you coast through life without a heart, Henry. We’ll be in touch. If there’s anything you need, I’m sure you can get ahold of my number.”
Henry nodded slowly. Regina’s number was in his phone. He’d be able to get a hold of her again when the time came. In a few days, after he’d made sure Kenzi was going to be alright, and he wasn’t the wreck he currently was, he’d reach out to the queen, follow-up on the date and time of the seance.
“Goodbye, Regina,” he said as she stepped out of his apartment. He watched her go for a moment before closing the door carefully behind her and locking it. He stood there alone in the small little foyer of his apartment and just stared at his door. A cold hard lump had formed in his throat. One of the windows in his living room behind him began to rattle, followed by a deep hum in the air that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. Henry glared over his shoulder with a dark frown. Sure, now that the danger had passed the hauntings were apparently again free to resume at will.
Henry wanted to scream. He was so angry. His mentor, his friend, hell maybe even a brother, gone, taken. Henry turned from the door. He went back to his couch and while his windows rattled and the air hummed, he had himself a cry.