It's Complicated

Chapter 13

AN: I was able to find time to write so yayy fast update, Enjoy! (drama ahead, you guys. Shit is real.)

Emma's hands unclasp from the broken shards of the once-fine china, staring in almost disbelief at the hard lines settling into her son's face. Disbelief that he had heard, but what had she been expecting? Damn the brunette for always sneaking her way past her skin, making her forget where she was or any of the consequences of her actions. A glance towards the accused shows that Regina's just as shell-shocked as Emma is, but the shock soon turns to anger as she turns towards the blonde, pure fire blazing in her dark eyes.

"Congratulations, Miss Swan. Your theatrics and unnecessary loud, foul tones earned you getting our son involved. Are you quite pleased with yourself?" Her voice is dripping with sarcasm, a dainty hand clutching the side of the soapy sink, squeezing hard enough to allow her knuckles to grow white.

"Moms-"

Emma lets out a loud bark of laughter just then, her subconsciously clenched fist causing a deep red bead of blood to erupt from the tip of her finger, the small cut made by the jagged edge of the plate smashed in anger. "This is how it's always gonna be right? How nothing is your fault and I'm always the one in the wrong? You can't own up to the fact that you're a bitch, Regina, and that I usually react in a shitty way like now because of something you did!"

"MISS SWAN!" Regina actually yells out, then clamps her mouth shut, biting her cheek to bring her seemingly unfeeling persona back into her features. She begins again, much calmer, but it's a fake, unsettling calm. "I would appreciate it if you would refrain from using such language around my son. He does not need to hear--"

"Oh, we're doing that now? 'My son'? Nice. And you know what? Quit acting like he's a child." She snaps, the tone of her voice slowly climbing higher.

"Moms!" This time his voice is sharper, more exasperated; he takes another step into the kitchen, with a hand out in front of him as he approaches them, but neither seem to take notice of him.

"He IS a child! And one who doesn't need to hear his mother being called a bitch!"

Emma's silent for a heartbeat; having realized that she stepped much further out of line than she meant to, but there was no way she could back down now. "You just keep playing the victim don't you?" There's a red hot fireball of anger settled in the pit of her stomach, the memory of Regina mocking her rape all too fresh and feeding her lividity.

"Oh, my fucking god, STOP!!" Both mothers turn, blinking at their son, his outburst ringing in the air seconds after he'd said it.

Regina's heart, though beating heavily as anger rolls off of her from her and Emma's heated conversation, temporarily pauses as she stares at her son, gaping even. It doesn't matter what type of situation they could have been in; hearing her son emit such a word--one she previously couldn't even imagine his lips forming--scares her. So, she turns to the only thing she knows how to do in situations such as these. "Henry Daniel Mills--" she begins, her son's full name leaving her painted lips with authority and a tone she hadn't used since he was much younger.

"No." He counters, and with one word he sounds so much older, leaving her wondering if she should say anything, if he wants her to. She's so unbelievably angry with the blonde next to her, but she somehow can't stop herself from stealing a glance. Emma's standing there, looking a taken aback, but somehow hardly surprised. The bead of blood from her fingertip now adorns the tiled floor with a single drop of red, directly beneath her bony fist. She has a moment to wonder about that, before Henry's continuing again, and she flicks her eyes back to him, almost afraid of what he's about to say.