hunnyfresh - Letters from War

She lifted her rucksack and rifled through it, smiling fondly at the letters and pictures she guarded with her life, the beginning of it all, really. The newer photographs were an addition to her bag that she was excited to bring back with her. No longer would her walls around her cot be bare save for a schedule or itinerary of upcoming events. She now had a collection of pictures, her friends immortalized on film to look after her on those nights she'd be away from them.

The few pictures she already possessed of herself, August, and Neal were among the top of the small stack, but as she flipped those to the back, her eyes clouded with moisture as the movie reel of her memory played snippets of each still.

Regina had snuck a picture of Emma and Henry one rainy April day, the third day Emma had been in Storybrooke where Regina had taken the rest of the week off. Emma was holding an umbrella and guiding Henry by the hand down the mayoral pathway, the boy decked out in a blue rain coat, red rain hat, and yellow rain boots, resembling a humanoid version of Paddington Bear. Neither Emma nor Henry were aware of the shot. Henry had been too distracted by the puddles underneath his feet, and Emma had been careful to make sure he was properly shielded from the light shower. Regina had been on the porch when she quickly grabbed her camera to capture the moment.

The first few were of her and Henry with the boy usually stationed on her lap, hugging her around the neck, or one where he was sitting high atop her shoulders. Regina nearly had a heart attack at that one, but when both Emma and Henry promised to be extra careful, Regina relented, allowing their fun. It was their little secret that one time Emma miscalculated the height of the doorway and Henry accidentally bumped his head against the frame.

It started with the picture from Henry's birthday party where Regina began making appearances in the photographs. Emma had taken quite a few pictures with the birthday boy in their matching armour, though Regina had kept those. The older woman, however, made doubles of this particular photo where after Emma had made Regina her own crown, the trio had got their picture taken by the base of the stairs. Henry was on Regina's hip, a toothy grin on his face as he reached to wrap an arm around Emma who had her sword swung across her shoulders. Despite the paper crown and the ribbon trailing down her collar bone, Regina looked every bit the Queen she was teased to be.

Every picture held a story, a memory Emma promised to keep with her forever. Some pictures were as recent as her own birthday party where she was sitting on the couch with Ruby and Tina, or the more comical image of the entire group of guests, apparently slanted and dim save for a red glow around them as they were positioned around the dining room table, grinning at Henry behind the camera who insisted he wanted to try. Regina wasn't surprised to find that Henry had kept his thumb on the lens when she was scrolling through the Canon's library later that night.

Finally she got to the last picture where her heart clenched in her chest. It was just Emma and Regina, taken two days after her party when they were going through the digital camera's library and Regina had noticed they hadn't had one of them alone together.

"Let's fix that," the blond had said before grabbing the Canon and holding it above their heads. Regina had smirked at the gesture but pressed into Emma's side all the same, her head nestled just above Emma's shoulder and settled into the crook of the blonde's neck, both women sporting matching grins.

Regina made doubles of that picture too.

It killed Emma to leave all this behind. It was ironic, really, when she thought about everything that got her to this point. Without being orphaned, she'd never go into foster care; she'd never get treated differently by the other kids who saw her holey shoes and too-large shirts as a sign of her poverty. She'd never have a stubborn attitude or a problem with authority and a knack for constantly getting into trouble with the cops until one day it mattered. Without enlisting, Emma would never in a million years had found Regina and Henry, and now all she wanted to do was turn her back on the institution that gave her a second chance in more ways than one. She could stick it out for a few more years, she decided. Only five more to go before she was released completely. Maybe after her next tour she could inquire about the National Guard.

She snapped her head up when she heard Henry screaming and crying, and without further thought, Emma stashed her pictures back in her rucksack and sprinted out the door. Taking the stairs two at a time, she followed his crying to the playroom where she was ready to sooth any boo-boo or scare away any monsters that may have frightened the child, but all she found was Regina, kneeling by the entrance of his pop-up tent with a grimace on her face.

"Sweetie, please don't cry," Regina soothed, raking her nails up and down the polyester as if that alone could sooth the boy within it.

"What's wrong?" Emma asked confused, crouching beside Regina and peaking her head into the mesh window of the tent. She was met with a plush pillow nearly to the face as Henry threw a cushion at it when Emma had tried to look in. "Hey," she scolded instinctively. "You don't throw things, mister."

His body thrashed against the padded floor of his tent, no doubt trying to make as much noise as possible as he continued to wail.

"Why's he crying?" Emma asked again, looking at Regina for the answer this time.

Regina bit her lip and tilted her head apologetically. "I told him he's staying home from daycare today."

"I thought he knew that?" The blonde questioned confused. "Is it arts and crafts day or something?"

"Yes, but that's not the point." Regina leaned closer and placed her palm over Emma's, squeezing affectionately. "I said that you're returning back to work, which is why we'll be going out and later bringing you to the airport."

Emma's lips parted in understanding as she turned back to the tent, Henry's near-scream crying turning into breathless sniffling.

"He doesn't want you to go," Regina provided, though it wasn't necessary as Emma already had a similar frown set on her face. She stopped the blonde with a press of her hand when Emma attempted to lift the flap of the entranceway. "You can't go into his castle unless he allows you to."

Squinting, Emma lifted the flap regardless of the warning but promptly dropped it when a high-pitched scream erupted as soon as the smallest sliver of Henry was revealed. She nodded sheepishly when Regina gave her an I told you so look before moving onto her stomach and crawling to the other entrance where the play tunnel was usually positioned. "Henry?" Emma called out tentatively, knocking at the flap to signal her presence. His sniffles quieted but didn't falter. "Buddy, can I come in?"

"No."

"How come?"

"Don't wanna go to the airport."

"But I want to see you before I go," she reasoned.

"You stay." His tone was firm and insistent.

"I wish I could, Henry." If there was ever any promise she could make to Henry, right now she wished she was able to make that one.

He sniffled once more before peaking his head to the window, his eyes red-rimmed and his nose snotty. "Just say you're sick?" He offered hopefully.

Emma gave a watery laugh as Regina half smiled adoringly half mentally scolded her son for the idea.

"I have to be super duper sick for them to give me a day off."

"Sweetie," Regina encouraged softly, positioned outside her own entrance. She said nothing more, but her voice drawled on in silent communication with her son, and without anything more than simply pushing out at the flaps from inside, the women were granted entrance into his safe haven.