fondofapples | Inbox -- Genessia

Regina Mills
~~Queen~~ ~~Mayor~~ Mother
Sorceress
Fond of Plants

"You've reached the inbox of Regina Mills. Leave a message. If it's urgent, it's probably too late."

(text, voice, video, action, ooc planning if necessary for Genessia only)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

fondofapples

In the bedroom, Regina had already packed a bag for herself with several grimoires and magical texts, plants she used for fever, and other ingredients. Clothes she could summon if she needed them.

He had a go bag, so that was ready as well, and she'd already made the reservation at the SkyHigh, the key was simply a code on her phone, and all that was required was to get him there.

She took one look at him and all of her calm vanished. If he didn't need her to keep her head, nausea would have her running to the bathroom. He looked sick, swaying on his feet, flushed, sweating--not at all himself.

"Don't argue with me," she snapped. "As of right now, you do what you're told. I'm not losing you do this goddamned dragon fire. Clasp your hands together in front of you and don't touch anything. We're leaving."

From:

hellorhighwater

“I’m not delirious yet, Beloved.” He sighed, ignoring her and crossing the room to tug her into his arms for a hug. “Regina, listen to me, okay? Listen: I’ve done this before. I can do it again, but only if you help me—no doctors. Don’t let the kids know how bad it is. Just knock me out and keep me warm, and—“

He cut himself off with a groan as he felt the fire surge up in his veins—too close to the surface, too hungry, and he couldn’t feed it in his condition. Releasing her abruptly so he wouldn’t bleed her dry, wouldn’t burn her without meaning to, he tried to step back and ended up stumbling, falling to one knee as the room began to swim in his field of vision.

Reaching up, he rubbed a hand across his face, movements sluggish and unusually clumsy. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he began to pray softly in the dragon tongue, asking the Sun Goddess and the Ember to take care of Regina—and begging the Sky Maker for just a little more time.

From:

fondofapples

Since she hadn't expected it, she hadn't let herself melt into him. But if he'd had his arms around her for another three seconds, she might have lost the rigid posture that kept her upright when he spun away from her. As it was, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from letting out the miserable sounds gathering in her throat.

"No doctors," she promised him as she moved the several steps to his side. "Emma and Evie will take care of the kids." The only comfort she could give him just then was the hand in his hair, ignoring the damp to stroke it the way she did whenever he couldn't sleep.

"I'm teleporting us to a hotel now." She gave him long enough to acknowledge it and warn her if she shouldn't use magic around him. And when he didn't protest, the purple smoke curled up around their feet, rose up to engulf them and the bag Regina still carried, then swept them off to the hall right outside their room.

From:

hellorhighwater

The slow drag of her fingers through his hair that usually sent him into a near swoon of pleasure was, strangely, enormously grounding in the moment—familiar and sharp, something that drew him out of his head and back into the present. He could focus on it, let sensation keep him afloat.

Leaning into the touch, he met her gaze with eyes too bright with fever, losing their usual rock solid focus, and nodded his assent—magic wasn’t an issue. Especially not hers, cool and soft and soothing...Ember’s Balls, he was hot, and starting to hurt...that, that was important...something about pain...

He lost track of what was happening as their surroundings suddenly shifted. Reflexively, one of his hands flew to Regina’s shoulder with a sharp intake of breath, every muscle humming in readiness to take on some imagined threat...but then he remembered, she told him—hotel.

Letting his hand fall away, Neil took a breath and started to rise from his kneeling position so they could make it into the room.

“Heating pad.” He groaned as he got to his feet, his thoughts finding cohesion again. “Gonna need one. Or more...I need heat to get a handle on this...”

Edited Date: 2018-11-19 06:06 pm (UTC)

From:

fondofapples

"I know, love," Regina reassured him and ran a hand over the sweat-slick of his back as she opened the door to the high-tech suite she'd reserved. She didn't wince or let her distress show in her face, but she hated to see the sheets of sweat pouring off him like this. Getting enough liquid into him was going to be a challenge.

Keeping his brain cool while feeding his body more and more heat would be a challenge.

Not panicking, watching her love fighting for his life... Why couldn't she be cutting a magic treasure from her former best friend's gullet?

"I know you don't usually want water, but there's a tub. Maybe soak a little heat into your bones before it gets worse?" A gentle suggestion, because she really didn't know where to begin and she needed a few minutes to order tea, soup, juice, and a couple of coffee pots to brew potions in, along with the heating blankets and either find the ice machine or work out how to get the robo-servers to bring it.

From:

hellorhighwater

"Regina."

Once he made it into the room, he immediately sat on the foot of the bed and rested his elbows on his thighs, fighting to keep his head clear. He'd burned so much time being stupid, not remembering, not realizing...if he'd caught it sooner, he could have prepared. Come up with some story about a bounty, holed up for a few days in a hotel of his own choosing, ridden it out in solitude. He'd made a promise to Regina, and he didn't want to break it--but this wasn't just getting sick.

There was every chance that this was the Sky Maker making good on the names in his box of souls--including his own.

Sweat pouring off his bare torso, Neil spoke Regina's name quietly, but firmly, extending an arm to her, silently asking her to come over. When she did, he threaded his fingers through hers and drew her to stand between his knees so he could look up at her.

"I trust you." he assured her without hesitation, making sure she could see the truth of it on his fever flushed features. "And until the fever takes me, I'm here. I'll tell you as much as I can before I can't think clearly, and when I go down? You'll pull me back up again. I don't believe it, I don't think it--I know it. Understand?"

From:

fondofapples

Regina knew she shouldn't give into it, but she also knew... No, she couldn't, wouldn't, think that way. Except...she knew better, didn't she. She didn't get happy endings, and...

The tears welled up, the lump in her throat swelled, so she stared up at the ceiling to blink it all back, but she couldn't breathe. She needed him.

"Neil..." Regina let herself sink to her knees and slip into his arms while she still could. "Tell me everything. Don't stop because I'm...just tell me everything."

Multitasking around emotional meltdown: her life story.

Eyes squeezed shut, she pressed her nose into the crook of his neck and took a deep breath. "And Neil, if you're lying to me, I'm going to kick your ass."

Edited Date: 2018-11-20 05:34 am (UTC)

From:

hellorhighwater

As she sank to her knees, Neil wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, burying his face in her shoulder for just a moment, just to breathe her in, to brand her into his lungs and the warmth of her body into his memory--deep enough to remember even in the grips of fever when the world began to melt and the only thing he could be sure of was the fire and its hunger.

It chilled his blood to realize he was more afraid of what the fever would take from him than he was of the Sky Maker...then realized that wasn't fear chilling his blood: he was cold.

Lifting his head, Neil drew her back just enough to take her face between his hands, resting his forehead against hers.

"Delirium will set in--you can't stop it, so don't try." he warned, trying to get a million things out as fast as he could. "Just keep me warm, and keep me unconscious if you can. I'm losing control of my powers--I won't burn anything down, but I also can't wick up heat fast enough to prevent burns or scalding, so don't let me do anything stupid. I may not speak a lotta Old Common--English, if it gets bad, I only ever used it when I traveled back home. Three phrases to remember: je siccu is 'I'm thirsty,' je dol is 'I'm in pain,' and jon uzan--'don't leave me.' If you can't make me eat, sugar water can help keep me from wasting, my metabolism's still gonna be goin' full speed. Most importantly, if I'm ever cold to the touch...then you get a doctor. That'll mean the fire's winning...and if I'm awake but I refuse to talk? Stay the hell away from me unless you can knock me out--it means I don't know who you are, and I'm probably gonna try and kill you."

He paused, then caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"Jon dahgo." He whispered against her skin. "Dahgo inguz, vir qui naz mori."

...no. That wasn't right, that was the wrong words...licking his lips, he tried again.

"The man without a heart...is the man who cannot die." That was it. Looking her in the eye, he wrapped both of his hands around her one and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

"Jon dagho. Jon uraidh dahgo. Dahgo inguz, vir qui naz mori." He needed her to believe it--maybe then he could be wrong.

Maybe then, if the Sky Maker was burning out his darkness, he might survive it after all.

From:

fondofapples

The man without a heart.

Her gaze flicked up to his, a spark of something wild in it. If it wasn't exactly faith, it was still warm and strong and certain. As soon as he lost consciousness, she'd take his heart and she could use it to control him. But she'd wait, because his faith would get him through this, and she wouldn't damage it by showing him the heart he still had.

Je siccu. I'm thirsty.

Juice would be better than sugar water, and soup if she could get him to drink it. If there was protein, even better. Sugar would burn faster than protein. But he would need water, too. Ordinarily, she'd give him ice chips, but he couldn't stand the cold, so it would be syringes and spoonfuls.

Je dol. I'm in pain.

She'd been thinking about this one since the first time. Aspirin had helped a little. She wasn't much of a healer, but she'd had time to visit the shops in Fayren, sample some of the potions, discuss strengthening some of hers.

Jon uzan. Don't leave me.

That one, she almost told him he could forget, but she turned her palm against his bearded jaw and glanced up to meet his eyes again. This one the only solution for was the only thing she could absolutely promise him, because neither of their hearts would let him. And he needed her, so every time he asked her not to leave, every time he said he was thirsty or in pain, every time he cried out, she would be here.

"Dahgo inguz, vir qui naz mori," she repeated for him, because she knew he needed her to believe it. "You're not going to die. Because Charlie will kill me, and Alice will cry. And Arya will try to find someone to kill. And..." I don't want to be without you, please. "I won't let you."

From:

hellorhighwater

He'd heard words fall from her lips before, but there was something about hearing her speak in the language he thought of as his mother tongue that was enormously comforting--something about it that made the words easier to believe, impossible to doubt.

Regina had his heart. The Sky Maker couldn't take him if she had his heart, right?

"I can't die. I have no heart." he agreed with a nod, still clinging to her hand...with fingers that were starting to shake, along with the rest of him. His skin was still hot to the touch, still slick with sweat, but he was trembling--he felt cold.

"Here we go." he sighed, releasing her hand to wipe his face with both of his hands. "This is gonna fuckin' suck. I mean, suck big, sweaty drake balls."

From:

fondofapples

Here we go.

Regina allowed herself one terribly shaky breath, and then she pushed herself to her feet, shoulders square and chin level. She took his hand, tugged gently to draw him to his feet, and then urged him toward the bathroom.

"A bath in yarrow root. The dragon fire can draw the heat from the water and the yarrow root will open your pores to help you sweat," she told him, repeating what she'd been told. "I know it's not a normal fever, but this will help." And it would get the first sick sweat off him.

"I'll order some juice and soup now, while you're still conscious and I'll bring you some room temperature water. Nothing cold, no matter how much you want it, until the fever breaks."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil let her pull him to his feet, pausing to pull her in for a kiss—hard, hungry, hot, just to feel her, just to remind them both that there was something waiting on the other side of this.

“Sounds like...a plan.” He agreed shakily as his teeth began to chatter.

True to her word, the bath did help. If nothing else, it got the sweat off him, and let him relax a little as she bundled him into warm warm towels after and tried to get some food into him. Thankfully she focused more on liquid—but that was already getting hard. His throat burned for something cooler than the tepid water she gave him, and not long after he’d bathed, the chills had faded into another wave of heat that felt like it was smothering him, scorching him...

Gradually, he started to lose track of things, of her. Some of it was simple unconsciousness, voids where there was nothing, other times he was never sure where he was or where to find her.

But when he called, he heard her voice. When he forgot all but the dragon tongue, she answered when he cried out or moaned.

Time passed. He didn’t know how much, but he awoke at one point, disoriented as he tried to lift his head and find her. It hurt, though—everything hurt, everything burned, he felt dried out and filled with sharp edges.

He couldn’t find Regina...but a face in the low light, radiant and so beautiful it hurt...

Looking into Regina’s face with awe and wonderment—and absolutely no recognition in his fever bright eyes—he could only stare for a long moment before his tongue snaked out to try and moisten dry lips before he croaked out a greeting.

“The hour feels late. You should...be with your Sky Maker, my Goddess.” He blinked up at her, fear taking hold of his features.

“You...haven’t come for her, have you? Regina...my mate—is she okay?”

From:

fondofapples

Time passed. She knew from how he drifted in and out of consciousness, he had no idea how much. But she did. She felt every second in her bones, each slower than the last, and dragging all her years behind them.

If she hadn't sat through Henry's childhood fevers with him, or his red room nightmares, she didn't think she could have made it even this far. Because nothing else in her life had prepared her to exercise compassion so far past her own breaking point, to wait upon another being's every breath, to watch sweat bead on their skin and wipe it away before the air could snatch it and cause them the slightest chill, to levitate them to change sheets mere hours old to keep them dry, to whisk away blankets when fever soared and return them the instant she heard words or sounds or simply sensed I'm cold.

She began to long for the moments when he lost consciousness, as much as they scared her. She'd taken his heart after the first, and now she saw them as moments of release for him, moments when he didn't hurt, which were few and far between. She used them to prepare for the next wave of fever, boiling potions in coffee pots (and ruining more than a few to go to him the second he so much as whimpered), ordering more juice, tracking the timing so she'd know better what to expect if it happened again, marking everything that seemed to make a difference for good or ill, and occasionally to pour half a cup of scalding hot coffee down her own throat to keep herself sharp.

Since the charm she'd used had helped a little, she'd scoured grimoires for others like it, and not finding anything that she liked, she'd pulled apart a bonebreak torture spell and tried to rebuild it. It hadn't worked, and Neil had been unconscious long enough this time for her to pull out her spell notebook and begin working on something else using the properties of some of the healing herbs.

It wasn't a word, or even a moan, just a crackle in his breath when he inhaled that drew Regina's gaze to the bed as he tried to lift his head. And she dropped the spell book to the end table along with her pen and climbed, sore muscled already and headachy, to her feet. She took a glass of juice with her to his side, one she'd poured before she sat down, and immediately set it down again at the nightstand, seeing the fever-bright gleam and blankness in his eyes.

He spoke, voice cracking, but with more clarity than before, and every word...cut like bone shards through her heart. He thought her his Sun Goddess... and worried for her.

She reached deep and found a smile for him, made her kinder than it had ever been, and stroked the hair back away from his face, while she told him, "I'm exactly where I'm needed, dragon knight," and then kissed his forehead. "Rest, and heal. Your mate is well, but she--" Her breathing hitched but she fought past it. "Needs you."

Was it wrong? Did she care? Anything she could do to get him through this, she would do, and if it meant swallowing the biting, slicing pain of non-recognition in his eyes, and letting him believe she was his goddess instead of his mate? Regina would do it without scruple. In fact...

She lifted the glass from the nightstand and quickly glamoured it to look like a deep, jeweled chalice, the orange juice giving off a celestial glow. "Drink this. Every drop. It will help you heal."

It wasn't a lie, was it? Keeping him hydrated would help him heal. Or at least make the convalescence shorter.

From:

hellorhighwater

The use of his title drew a deep, shaky sigh of relief from him—for a moment his head sank back into the pillow and his eyes fell shut, but he opened them again at her bidding and drank from the chalice she held out to him. His body struggled to obey him, ravaged and trembling as he struggled to prop himself up on one elbow, but the nectar she bid him drink was sweet on his tongue, soothed the papery feel of his parched throat and lips when he lay back down again.

His goddess had to have spoken to Regina to know his title. All was well.

“I pray...my arrogance is forgiven.” He replied, eyes still riveted to her face. “For being...less surprised to see you here, helping her. I gave her name to your Sky Maker. I asked him...to tell you about her. To save her. I know...I didn’t need to. But...she needed me to...”

He trailed off, eyes drifting shut for a second as a big, secretive smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

“I know...I know what she is.” He whispered. “I’ve seen...I’ve seen her heart. She showed me—she showed me what your son made for me...the only heart that could ever love me...one made from his own...dragon’s breath...”

Neil trailed off then, his muddled thoughts calling up the memory of his box of souls. Refocusing on her face, his smile faded and his brow furrowed with worry.

“My Goddess...I shouldn’t ask, I...I don’t have a right, but...I did something.” He huffed humorlessly, eyes shutting again. “But you probably know...your Sky Maker, he...he must have told you...I gave him my name...”

From:

fondofapples

"Good boy," she whispered when he finished the juice, and her chest ached with longing to see his eyes open and focus on her, know who she was and hear him murmur to her my Regina, my mate.

But she pushed that thought aside, sat beside him on the bed and took his hand and held it gently between hers while he spoke. As much as she wished he never had to suffer like this, there was something beautiful and humbling to hear him talk to his goddess about her. The way he loved her, it felt like nothing she'd ever imagined; not even Robin had loved her so much he'd shaped his faith around it. She felt she understood him better, understood his faith better, also, hearing him.

She almost missed it, tired as she was and as much as she'd let herself relax for a few moments. But she heard 'ask' and, if he needed something, she didn't want to miss it.

I gave him my name.

It took a moment for her to catch on. Gave him my name. In the box. The box they'd buried. The names of people who had hurt her, given to the Skymaker, to be punished... him.

One by one, the pieces ticked into place. Other things he'd said, or rather croaked, in his delirium, things she'd passed over as the sort of things someone who thought they might be dying would say.

And abruptly she wasn't scared, tired, hurt, she was livid. He'd given the Sky Maker his name and he believed, rightly or wrongly, that this fever was the Sky Maker come to take him.

Oh. Oh. Her gaze narrowed and she shook her head. If he weren't deathly ill and in the throes of fever, she would have slapped him. As it was, she nearly fireballed him, since the dragon fire would steal the heat anyhow.

"You gave my mate your name," she said flatly, keeping to the role to put the fear of the goddess into him. "After you pledged yourself to me. Asked him to take you. After you gave yourself to me, and to her. I should let him take you for that. But I don't give up what is mine. You owe me your service, dragon knight, and I will</em have it."

From:

hellorhighwater

"...that's not what I did."

Something felt...not quite right about her anger, something that his fevered mind couldn't latch onto. The Sun Goddess was benevolent, but filled with passion--and she wanted his soul for herself. It gave him hope, banished all fear...maybe he had a chance.

"I gave him my name...'cause...'f what I did." he slurred. He felt hot again, but remembered shame kept him from kicking away the covers to get cool--he didn't deserve comfort. "What I did...to Regina. I treated her...like her mother did. There's no...forgiveness for that...only hope I had was to ask him--ask him to take my darkness, so she could have the light she deserves."

He swallowed thickly, shutting his eyes and shifting restlessly with a moan of discomfort, shaking his head.

"But there's none...I got no light, it's just darkness...it's all darkness..."

From:

fondofapples

...he did what? Because one time he'd let his passion overwhelm his usually perfect sense of how to talk to her?

Idiot.

Sweet, impossible idiot.

The anger faded into a dull ache in the hinge of her jaw and the blur of tears behind her eyes. She bought herself a moment to speak by dabbing away the sweat from his brow, but when she turned her hand over to take his temperature, correcting his idiocy slipped from her mind.

She leaned down to kiss his forehead and murmured, "Let me be the judge of that," and then stripped the covers off him to help him cool down. "Drink what your mate gives you. As much as you can. Whether you want it or not."

How she knew, she couldn't have said, but things were going to get worse before they got better. Much worse.

From:

hellorhighwater

When she leaned in to kiss his forehead, Neil’s gaze never left her—and his hand darted out to catch her wrist to keep her close.

“Please ask him to give me more time.” He pleaded in a whisper. “I got...I got no right, but...I just need more time...time to find the light...”

His eyes were drooping, but he fought to keep them open. He was so tired, but this was so important...

“...just need...time...”

The words were slipping away from him as his grip on her hand slackened and the fever pulled him back into unconsciousness again.

From:

fondofapples

"You'll have as much time as you need, dragon knight," she murmured, trying to sound goddess-like, hoping the summoning spell wouldn't pull him from unconsciousness. She didn't use his name now, because it definitely would.

As soon as his grip slackened, she slid down the side of the bed with a sob she could no longer contain. She lay her head on her knees and cried until coughing threatened the minimal contents of her stomach.

Then she was up on her feet: testing his temperature, changing the sheets, cleaning him off with a barely damp sponge, laying a fresh, dry heating blanket over him. All the while, she ignored the burn in her stomach from acid eating away at it, the sore muscles in her calves and thighs, and the awareness that the potion she'd been working on had burned to the bottom of the coffee pot and she'd have to start it all over again.

She let renewed anger and frustration fuel her and keep her moving, when she to get into bed with her lover and hold him until he woke, fever broken and body on the mend.

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil drifted between sleeping and waking—fitful slumber plagued by nightmares when he did slip under and waking moments where he saw strange and terrible things when he wasn’t in terrible pain.

Sometimes Regina was there. Sometimes she wasn’t. It blended together in a stream of heat and pain and guilt for what Regina was suffering to care for him.

It was Regina he was thinking of the next time he woke, lucid and shivering. Something felt wrong, something was...

“”Regina,” He croaked, teeth chattering, head lifting to try and find her with his gaze, “Regina...je isa......”

I’m freezing. Even as he said it, he knew what was wrong—what was causing the chill.

He couldn’t feel the fire. He wasn’t chilled—he was cold.

And if Regina touched him, his skin would feel like ice beneath her hands.

From:

fondofapples

Over the past few hours, the sweating had stopped, the moaning had quieted, and Regina had started to believe the worst was over. She'd switched from potions to broth, trying to get a bit of warmth and salt into him instead of the sugar she'd been giving the fire to burn before.

She'd let herself sit for ten whole minutes at one point, drink a whole cup of coffee, brush her hair and touch up her makeup because she didn't want to look a mess when he woke this time, text the children--no promises, but making a point to sound a little more upbeat.

And she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was that cup of coffee, the five minutes looking in the mirror that made her miss it, miss the turning point from lowering temperature to cold.

He'd said to get the doctors then, but there was no time. The time it would take to explain, even if she teleported him in, he'd freeze to death.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," she whispered to him as she cranked up the heat on the heating blanket and piled on a weighted blanket it would be hard from him to spill off if he shuddered too hard. She cursed herself while she waited for the water to boil to make tea.

It wouldn't be enough, and she couldn't trust him to stay conscious to deal with flame if she gave it to him. So when she put the tea in his hands, she did the only thing she knew that would be. She stepped into the living room, and without looking at herself in mirror, plucked her heart from her chest. Then she put it in a box beside his.

She returned less than a minute later with another blanket from the couch, showing nothing on her face, and then draped the blanket around his shoulders. And for as long as he stayed awake, she gave him tea, broth, offered him a hot bath, anything she could think of to warm him even a bit.

The second he dropped off to sleep, she traded her clothes for a thin silk shift and slid into bed beside him. Even though he was cold to the touch, she wrapped herself around him. Layer by layer, she constructed in her mind the feeling that she was fevered, dangerously hot, focused everything on needing to be cool.

And then, heartless, she told him a lie.

"Neil," she called softly, so softly, just loud enough to activate his summoning spell, and let him feel how much she needed to be cool. "Please. I'm so hot. Help me." And then she slumped against him as though she'd passed out.

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil...

Neil’s eyes snapped open, the summoning spell pouring visions of fire and heat into his head, burning skin and fever beyond his own. Turning his head, he saw her there, felt her body slack against his...

In his fever mad mind, she was glowing, a hearth for him—a promise of relief.

With the little strength he had, Neil rolled over on his side, arm draping across her waist. Bending his head, he pressed dry, fever chapped lips to hers with a shaky sigh. His skin was still cool to the touch, his breath chilled as it feathered against her face.

“Jon uraidh ahn.” I’ve got you.

Kissing her, Neil drew her body heat into himself, warming his own body from hers...and once he started, he couldn’t find the strength to stop.

From:

fondofapples

It took every ounce of her will not to pull away or shiver, and instead remain pliant in his arms as though she were unconscious and burning with fever--until it wasn't difficult at all, because she lost consciousness.

In the moments between feeling her life bleeding away with her heat and feeling nothing at all, Regina noticed Neil's body warming. She opened her eyes to see him and smiled. He'd be all right, now. And without her own heart, she faced the unknown of what would come in calm and relative peace.

I love you.

From:

hellorhighwater

The lips against his were turning cold, dangerously so--but Neil couldn't stop. He was warm again, and he couldn't think around it, or the exhaustion, or the comfort of Regina's body tucked safely against his, where it belonged...

Pain ripped through him--a snap of agony as something in him severed, then a chill that shook him with such force that he let her go, falling on his back as his body seized.

Then there was heat--heat like he'd never felt before, heat flooding skin and muscle and filling his blood as the fire released its grip on him and greedily set to devouring the meal he'd given it.

With a shudder, his eyes rolled back into his head and he lost consciousness--and for the first time in nearly four days, finally entered a deep, healing sleep.

* * * * *

Neil's fucking head was killing him.

Groaning, he covered his eyes, groggy and sore and still wrung out. Everything was a haze, but he could think straight, at least. Maybe the fever hadn't been as bad as he thought? He'd dealt with short ones before.

With a grunt, Neil rolled over to fling an arm around Regina's waist--and was dragged from the hazy, sickly fog of sleep by the chill of the body at his side.

Sitting bolt upright, his entire body protested with pain and the noisome lurch of his stomach--both of which he ignored as he looked down in horror at the limp, cold body in bed with him. There were hazy things floating around in the back of his head, but nothing he could piece together with any certainty...

"No...ohhh, no no no--Regina? Regina, wake up." The words were a moan a he cradled her cheek, patting it gently, thinking far too clearly for the fear he felt. It more resembled the place he killed in, the white noise where he comfortably took life and dipped his hands in blood for love of king and kingdom...and sometimes, merely for pleasure.

Slipping his hand under the strap of her shift, he laid his palm against her chest and reached for his fire, channeling heat directly into her body without care for how hard his own was working to accomplish it. Beneath his skin, the veins and capillaries in his hand and fingers glowed like magma beneath his skin, his heart racing with the effort it took to force heat into her body, not merely channeling but forcing it in as deep and as fast as he could.

"C'mon, Regina...c'mon, wake up...mighty Ember, hear me--exaudi me Sol Dea, mighty Sky Maker...I have given you my life, my blood, my salvation--don't ask me to give you this woman..."

Leaning in, he kissed her, quick and desperate, resting his forehead against hers. Her skin was warming...but it still felt too cool.

He kept pouring the heat of his dragon fire into her.

"Beloved...wake up, Beloved. Wake up...I can't be the one to kill you. Don't let me be the one that killed you..."

From:

fondofapples

Cast deep into the recesses of her own mind, Regina had no awareness of time passing. She floated through one nightmarescape after another, no meaning to the sequence, and only the most minimal awareness--

She'd lied to Neil to save him and he wouldn't forgive her.

She wandered a wasteland scorched by dragon fire and couldn't find him, or Maleficent, and the sun neither rose nor set.

Henry called to her across a wreath of flame and she couldn't reach him.

Evie cursed her at what must've been a funeral.

Alice and Arya slaved over shoe leather in a factory.

Emma married Neil and took him home to Storybrooke. Zelena killed her and took Neil for herself.

And those were only the coherent torments. There were nightmare shadows, cthonic deities, blazing goddesses, Fairy Godmother riding a flame lion in the shape of Robin's tattoo. The stench of burned herbs and flesh and coffee pots that never came clean. Sweat turning to ice and choking her to death.

At one point she heard Neil wailing, voice echoing in canyons of ice. She tried to go to him, but the passes were melting, leaving her trapped.

But outside her mind, she remained cold, stiff, and still.