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)

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From:

fondofapples

Exhausted and still chilled to the bone, Regina's brain was sluggish, far too sluggish to argue with him even if she'd really wanted to. What she did manage to say before being wracked with an impressive shiver and chattering teeth was, "More of a conjuration." But then she was shaking and reaching out to him, as much for his arms around her as to put his heart back where she'd found it. Because it didn't follow that she'd taken nothing from him, even if the shape she'd taken it in didn't (whether in his mind or in actuality) exist.

"Come back to bed, love," she half-moaned through chattering teeth. They need to let the kids know he was all right, but they could do it from bed with her tucked close and tangled with him.

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil didn't hesitate to make sure both boxes were out of the way and slide into bed beside Regina. His temperature was back to normal--uncomfortably warm, of course, to anyone not chilled as she was. Pulling her against his bare chest, Neil quickly summoned a small ball of fire, then rolled it onto the back of his hand to sink into his skin, turning his hand into living coals that he immediately curled against the back of her neck.

"So tell me how all this happened while I warm you the hell back up." he instructed softly, shutting his eyes and channeling heat into her body through the hand at her nape. As he'd done in treating her headache a few weeks before, he followed his magic through skin and into her body, projecting his consciousness into her so he could work to raise her body temperature to something more comfortable.

"How the fuck did I get close enough to put you down? I don't remember much, but I'm pretty fuckin' sure I told you how to read any cues that said I was comin' to fuckin' kill you, goddamnit."

From:

fondofapples

"You didn't," she murmured, tucking her nose into the crook of his neck, equally to warm it and to enjoy the safety of the closeness his fever had robbed from her for four days now and almost forever.

Even the awareness of it was enough to set the tears sliding down her cheeks again; she might have held them back easily enough if she weren't so very, very tired. But then again, why should she? Why should she not let her mate see how much this had taken from her, how much she had missed him, how scared she had been of losing him?

"You were better. I took ten minutes for a cup of coffee and to clean up. When I checked again, you were cold. Doctors wouldn't be fast enough. You weren't conscious to handle fire if I made it. The only safe heat I had for you, real heat, was mine."

Heating blankets weren't the same, for whatever reason. The warmth couldn't be drawn from them the same way. Or it wasn't equivalent. It was something she'd learned. Heating blankets could keep him from getting colder, but they did very little to raise his overall temperature.

"I had to. I promised Charlie and Alice." I'll do everything I can to bring him home. If not in so many words, it had been implicit. "Call or text them...they need to know..." Her eyes had closed but tears still leaked from the corners; she pried them open. "...and Arya and Evie and Emma..."

Her lashes dropped again. Her mind wandered. How long had it been? Seconds or minutes? She forced them open again barely. "I missed you... I'm so so tired, and I missed you so much."

From:

hellorhighwater

Her voice was distorted filtered not through sound waves, but the vibrations inside her own skull. It lent a strange intimacy to her admissions, and talking about the kids...

As he channeled heat directly into her bloodstream, he felt the moment she nodded off and held his tongue, focusing instead on warming her blood, making sure the heart that slowed in sleep continued its steady, unceasing beat.

When she woke, he felt it, the spike in her pulse, the contraction of her veins that threatened to chill her again. It took some effort, deep as his awareness was in trying to manipulate her temperature, but he pulled at his limited control of his own body to tighten his arms around her, to hold her a little tighter as he made a decision and sighed.

“Tell me about the kids—how they’re handling this and how they’ve been when you talked to ‘em.” He asked softly. “Don’t worry if I get quiet, just...tryin’ something complicated to warm you up.”

From:

fondofapples

It was hard, so hard to stay awake. So hard not to cry when she was, from the weakness, the exhaustion, the misery of four days of watching the dragon fire try to kill him and having only the most rudimentary medicine and magic to help him fight. But there was... at least some comfort in him being here with her now.

It hurt when he asked about the kids instead of reassuring her, but she knew it wouldn't if she weren't so unwell. And he was trying to heal her, so really he was taking care of her first. But she had to tell herself that, and it felt small and selfish and she didn't like it.

Instead of indulgence the weakness and resentment, she forced herself awake to tell him: "Charlie's a wreck. She trusted me, but she knew if I wasn't letting her see you, it was bad. She asked me to explain what was happening, and I know you didn't want her to know how bad it was, but I couldn't lie to her. I explained the situation, left out the consequences she could figure for herself, and I've texted her here and there since to reassure her you were still alive. It's been... gods, I don't know, maybe six hours since the last time?

It was getting easier to think, anyway, if not to stay awake with him so warm and so close, and everything pulling her down down down again. She fought it, pulled her eyes open again. "Arya didn't ask questions. She doesn't. I think she didn't expect you to come home. Because in her world and her life, you wouldn't have. She didn't fuss or try to see you, because she knows this was nothing she could fight, and the best she could do was let me.

"Evie... I think Evie was more worried for me than you," and of course she would be, because as much as she liked Neil, he wasn't her father yet. But also... "She knows about Robin and Marian, and about Daniel, so... But I think... I think it would matter to her to know if anything happened to me you would still think of her as family..."

She was rambling, four days without sleep did that to a person, she knew, but it was frustrating when she tried so hard to be precise in speech. Less chilled, at least, the arms she'd had crossed over her chest, keeping her breasts close together for warmth, now slackened and slipped free to wrap around him instead.

"Alice was very scared you wouldn't be coming home. She asked me if we were... I couldn't lie to her any more than Charlie, but I promised I'd do everything I could. I know she heard what I didn't say, and she's a good, smart, sweet child, so she didn't push... But she's going to need a lot of comfort, even if she doesn't know it."

What she didn't do complain or protest how hard it had been. That was her job as a mother, but she never wanted to handle their fears alone if she didn't have to. Because as their father, that was his job, too. Just then, she heard it in her thoughts, the change--mother and father, something had knit them all closer in fighting to keep him alive. And that? She relished.

"I really hope I did all right by Charlie. I promise I tried."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil focused on her voice, anchoring himself to it as he pushed more heat into her body, more of his magic to follow into her veins, through her tissues...and deeper still...

He hated going this deep, hated drifting beyond the safety of blood and muscle and bone. Here, within the core of all of them, the cells of her body, he couldn't hear her words, nor feel them through the resonance of bone. Here, he could see them in the core of every single one, in that spark of energy that existed to tell them not merely to continue growing and multiplying, but told them why. It had a light he couldn't describe, a function he could barely comprehend well enough to define, but it was the spark that generated the essence of the heat he stole to feed his power.

That spark echoed, shimmered, danced with every word, with desperation and joy and love--and exhaustion. That spark still burned, but it was burning low, drained by what he'd done and what she'd been through, caring for him.

Even now, he had to fight the urge that made him hate this place--made it so he didn't venture down this deep unless he had absolutely no choice. That spark, that heat...some form of fire lived in this, because he could feel the metaphysical muscle he would need just to pluck it out, to hold it in his hand...

"I know." he whispered, the only words he could muster as he focused all his attention on resisting that urge--because some gut instinct told him if he ever took it from anyone, just one person, he'd never be able to stop.

Gathering a single spark of dragon fire, a fleck of the crimson shower his flames produced, he planted it into that shining core, then laid his thoughts against it with careful attention to what he wanted to happen, what Regina needed and how she had to heal.

The moment he was done, he ran.

The effort it took to pull out of her cells as fast as he could made his breath catch, his body tense as his mind raced back to the safety of her veins, her muscles, her bloodstream. Once he was there, safe where he couldn't hurt her, he made sure his magic took before he withdrew again, finally opening his eyes and pulling her closer, huddling around her and pressing his face against the top of her head.

"I'm sorry you had to do that--I'm sorry this happened." he murmured. "But you did good. You saved my damn life--even if I kinda wanna shake you for lettin' me hurt you. Made up for it, though: you'll warm up now. If you start to feel feverish, take a cool shower, it'll pass. For now? You're gonna fuckin' sleep, and I'm gonna call the kids and let 'em know we'll be home in the morning--and that tomorrow, you're spending the damn day in bed. Fight me, I dare ya. I'll win--it's my turn to take care of you."

From:

fondofapples

Regina fell asleep halfway through his 'fight me' declaration, too tired even to muster rudimentary sass in response. She woke again less than two minutes later, because this was what she'd been doing for the past four days: pulling herself awake every single time she started to fall asleep.

And it was obvious what she'd done, because as soon as she woke, her pulse spiked and she pushed herself upright--only to be stopped by the arms locked so tightly around her. Then she remembered where she was, that he'd pulled through it, that she didn't have to stay awake anymore--and all the crying she'd done up until now was just pre-gaming for the sobs that wracked her now.

If she'd been a hitter, she'd have been punching him for what he'd put her through, never mind that he hadn't done it on purpose and it wasn't his fault, or that he had more right, since she had done this on purpose and put him through nearly losing her. Since she wasn't a hitter, and did try not to be a hypocrite, she only curled into a ball against him, drawing her knees up to her chest to try to stop the ache and the tears.

It really didn't take more than a minute to realize that wouldn't work, not when what she wanted was him. If letting him in (such a strange thought when he'd been inside her cells only moments before and he was inside her body any number of different ways on a regular basis) meant opening up her small, self-protective ball, and if opening up that crystalline casing meant crying more and harder for longer, then so be it. She needed him more than she needed oxygen anyway.

Awake again now, at least until she cried herself to sleep, she told him through fits and starts of tears, "The worst part was that I missed you so much and you were right there. I don't think I realized how much we talk to each other every day until I could taste your magic and your skin, but most of what I said went unanswered."

From:

hellorhighwater

The way she huddled in on herself was one of the most painful things he'd ever endured--how she tried to retreat into herself to escape the pain, how she tried to cut herself off even within the circle of his arms just to protect herself. It hurt, and his weakness had done that. If he'd been more aware of the coming fever, if he'd been able to slip away and spare her all of this...

"For what it's worth...I don't remember much of it, but what I do remember? I heard you." he assured her, resting a hand on her hip to pull her closer, sliding down her thigh and kneading with firm, even pressure to try and urge her to relax into him--and because she was tense as fuck. For good measure, he added a little magic by channeling some heat into his touch for good measure.

"I remember asking for you and you being there. I remember...more than a couple terrifying fucking delusions and nightmares, and your voice, your touch--it banished them. I remember just...moments when I wasn't asleep or awake, just there and burning up, and you'd kiss me or talk to me and I couldn't crawl outta the fog fast enough to answer you. I heard, though, Regina. I think even when I was flat out unconscious, I heard every word you said."

From:

fondofapples

Her jaw ached from the strain of biting down on the tears, not so much trying to stop them as just slow them enough to keep from choking on the sobs and nauseating herself with it. Her face hurt from the pressure in her sinuses when she nodded, acknowledging him.

"It's all right, Neil," she managed to say and hugged him tighter in gratitude for him trying to comfort her now. "I'm okay. I needed to be with you, for both of us. I just..." She rubbed her face against his shoulder, scrubbing away tears without letting go of him. "Missed you. Needed you, because you're who I talk to when I'm scared. Don't feel guilty, please. I'm just...catching up with you." And processing her own feelings.

From:

hellorhighwater

"Too late for the guilty thing." he deadpanned, kissing the top of her head as she pressed her face into his shoulder to wipe away her tears. "And don't say I shouldn't feel that way: I fucked up. Got complacent and I missed all the signs. So I ended up springing this shit on you...I got sloppy."

He shook his head, holding her a little tighter and staring into nothing with his nose pressed against her hair with a sigh, still berating himself for the whole thing.

"I thought I was safe, and I lost a whole day I could've spent makin' this easier on you." The one thing he promised he'd never do, the one thing he swore he'd never do when the Night Dragon made him his personal guard: he'd assumed everything was going to be fine.

And every time in his life Neil thought he was safe, the world bit back to remind him otherwise. Maybe this really was punishment from the Sky Maker--a reminder that his life wasn't meant to last, that every second for a human wielding dragon fire was borrowed time.

From:

fondofapples

"Easier on me?" she demanded, anger flaring beneath the tears and she pulled one hand free to smack him. "Easier on me?" she repeated angrily. "I'm not the one who spent the last three days trying to die every ten minutes."

The tears started to wane and she scrubbed them away with the back of her hand she'd swatted him with. "How do you think you were going to make this easier on me? And if you're even thinking 'by not telling you,' you can sleep on the couch for a month."

More even than that, if he tried to do this without her ever, she would unleash the kind of hellish fury he only imagined she might be capable of.

From:

hellorhighwater

...which, of course, was exactly what he'd been thinking, but now wasn't the time to admit to a goddamn thing. Maybe not ever.

"By talkin' you through more of it." he replied instead, praying he could dodge that bullet--since he hadn't been able to dodge or block her blow in his present state. "Help you talk to the kids in advance, give you a better rundown of Rueni, shit like that."

Narrowing his eyes, he caught the hand she smacked him with and roughly meshed his fingers with hers.

"And don't fuckin' hit me, it ain't like I'm conspiring to die in the slowest, most pathetic way possible." he growled, bringing their joined hands to his lips so he could kiss her fingers before he pulled her closer, huffing testily as he pressed his face against the top of her head, an annoyed string of muttering in the dragon tongue half muffled by her hair.

From:

fondofapples

Too exhausted to listen for deception, too hurt to want to known if he truly thought it would've been easier, Regina accepted what he told her. Instead of arguing more, she collapsed again into him. "M'not hitting you. I'm trying to knock some sense into you," she muttered, voice still rough and achy from crying so hard.

She tucked her head again, put her nose and lips against his neck to feel his pulse while he warmed her. Time passed, she didn't know how much, since she drifted on the warmth and sense of safety that came with being in his arms, but at some point, a thought surfaced.

"Why did you give the Sky Maker your name?"

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil didn't answer for a long time--simply lay there, nose pressed to the top of Regina's head, her hand still caught in his with his thumb drifting back and forth over hers as he held on. He stayed silent long enough that it might have seemed he wasn't going to respond, that he had chosen silence instead of any explanation...

"Same reason you thought I needed to give him yours." he replied quietly after a moment. "But I didn't--I didn't ask him to come for me, I just...I gave him my darkness. I thought I needed to--and I did need to. I fucked up bad enough to remind you of your mother, I needed to."

He paused, frowning a little as he lifted his head and drew back just enough to look down into her face with some confusion.

"But...Regina, how'd you know I gave him my name?"

From:

fondofapples

Still and quiet, pressed close to his renewed warmth without concern for how sticky he was or how clammy she must feel to him as they were well beyond that now, she simply waited, drifting, for him to answer her. There would be time to push later, if he chose not to answer.

She had no idea how long it took for him to answer, but when he did, her head popped up fast enough to nearly catch him in the chin. Her weary gaze narrowed, brows drew together, in marked confusion. "When did you...?" Slowed to molasses and just as thick, her thoughts dragged when she tried to recall what he meant. It was some few minutes before she came up with a night on the patio, the night he'd told her about the ritual.

Deep in her gut, anger churned, but she lacked the will or the energy to vent it. Instead, she sighed quietly and shook her head. "It was one time. A few words. You made a mistake, Neil, and I forgave you as soon as you apologized."

If she'd heard his question, she'd forgotten it by the time she answered him.

From:

hellorhighwater

Of course she forgave him--she could forgive anything. It wasn't faith in her goodness or naivete that made him so certain, but her darkness: she'd done the unspeakable, so she understood it...so of course she could forgive it.

Yet she'd said it herself, more than once: she had to hold herself to a standard or she'd slip. He'd heard that, knew penance needed to be paid if he was going to follow her on this path to redemption--he just didn't understand it well enough yet to articulate that soul-deep shame he felt, how far he would go to keep his heart in her hands, how long he would follow her into light or dark...how badly he wanted this thing he could finally see in front of him without a beating heart to distract him.

"I didn't forgive myself." he replied simply, shaking his head and sliding a hand along her cheek to cup her face as he looked into her eyes, something else stirring in the back of his head, not a memory and not quite a dream, just a nagging sense of...

"Regina: how did you know?" he repeated softly.

From:

fondofapples

I didn't forgive myself.

That she understood even with her thoughts as slow and stretched thin as they were. She lifted her cold-chafed lips to his and kissed him once in acquiescence and benediction. "As long as you know, it was a minor offense," she whispered against his lips, already drifting away again.

The softly urgent question pierced her consciousness, drawing her back to him. She blinked and tilted her head, gaze narrowing while she tried to remember what he was asking about. A moment passed and then another, and then-- "Oh." She ducked her head and shrugged. "You thought I was the Sun Goddess. I... let you believe it, so I could get you to drink and you kept talking, confessing..."

From:

hellorhighwater

He didn't remember it, not really. Neither memory nor dream, his fever was filled with long stretches of nothing, of dark and dim and pain...and when he was able, when he had strength enough to think and to understand, he prayed.

In all his other fevers, he had prayed to the Sky Maker for the strength and fortitude he would need to fight, to survive. This time, he had turned not to the one he asked to purge his darkness. He'd been too afraid of tempting him in his weakened state, that he would not survive his penance...so he had turned to the Sun Goddess instead.

He'd prayed for the will to live--to be filled with her light, so he could survive his penance from her Sky Maker. He knew more than remembered, and he knew there had been peace in the wake of prayer--the stillness and certainty of being heard, a pleasant respite from his suffering.

His urgency and confusion left him, letting him relax with a soft smile as he bent to kiss her softly.

"Good." he replied simply, tucking her head underneath his chin. "S'all good." He paused, and not knowing if she was still awake to hear it...

"You were right where she needed you to be."

The more he thought about it, the more sense it made--the better it fit. Yes, it was fitting--the Sky Maker came for him through the ravages of fever, and when he prayed to give his name to the Sun Goddess, the source of all light, his prayers would reach Regina instead.

The greatest source of light he had ever known.

From:

fondofapples

Neil tucked her in with his over hers and his voice sounded okay, happy, pleased, not mad.

"I'm glad it's okay," she murmured, voice fading as she drifted into much-needed sleep. "I didn't know... Just wanted... needed you to keep on..." Drinking... I love you, Neil...