Chapter 11: Parental Units
When Jaime opened his eyes he found himself in an unfamiliar room and there was the sound of machines all around him—was he in the hospital?
Why was he in the hospital?
He tried to remember. The last thing he could clearly remember was Friday night. Regina had forced him to drink a glass of milk before going to bed—some stupid article she had apparently read about how children should have a glass of milk before going to bed for their bones or something.
Honestly, he didn't listen. He was ten, after all and Regina's voice was like nails on a chalkboard for him. He shook his head as he tried to remember anything else. He did remember waking up yesterday getting in a fight with Regina and then waking up and a haze and trying to leave—the details though, were murky.
And he had no idea who the man was that was sitting in the chair in front of him. He seemed to feel Jaime's eyes on him because he looked at him and Jaime was startled when he saw that the man's eyes matched his own.
And then he could vaguely recall seeing that man sometime yesterday when he had been walking down the street—was that real?
"Jaime?" The man said.
"Well, at least I don't need to correct you on my name." Jaime said.
It was weird. He shouldn't want to be called by his birth name, but he hated the name Regina had given him. There was just something creepy about that name, not that there was anything really creepy about the name Henry. It wasn't like he had been named Jason or Freddie.
The man smiled. "Do you remember me from yesterday?"
"Vaguely," Jaime said. "Honestly, it's all a blur. The last thing I remember is Regina giving me a glass of milk then thins get murky. You're my father, aren't you?"
"It's that obvious," The man said.
"I've heard how freakish my eyes are for the past ten years. Considering yours match mine exactly and you're in my—am I in the hospital?"
"Correct on both assumptions." His father said. "Except your eyes aren't freakish. They're just green with gold flecks. Just a genetic quirk."
"They're not assumptions, they're deductions." Jaime said ignoring the remark about the eyes. "How did I end up in the hospital?"
"Don't you want to deduce that?" His father asked. "You have all of the information."
Jaime gave him an odd look. "I don't see what this has to do with my eyes."
"The milk, Jaime." His father said.
"The milk—she—did she drug me?"
"Well, I'm assuming you didn't take that many Ambien yourself." His father said. "Though you did try to jump out of a window with Ambien and broke your arm. Now that wasn't smart."
"I was not in my right mind."
"Obviously." His father said.
Jaime frowned. "She must've locked me in my room, it was Saturday Shag after all."
"Saturday Shag? You're ten."
"God, everyone's been saying that lately." The kid snapped.
"Because you're ten," Harry said. "And you shouldn't know what shag is. Let alone, when Regina is shagging. Doesn't that make you want to use mind bleach?"
Jaime shrugged. "Most everything involving Regina equals mind bleach. I can't believe she drugged me and that I broke my arm. I'm surprised she's actually letting you in my room. She blew a gasket about Emma, I was sure she'd do the same about you."
"Regina hasn't answered any calls back," His father said. "And it's not quite visiting hours yet."
"Then why are you here?"
"I'm a patient here myself."
"You don't look injured."
He didn't. He wasn't wearing a hospital gown and there seemed like there no obvious bumps or abrasions on the man or the fancy suit he was wearing.
"A bump on the head," His father said. "Nothing to worry about, I'm waiting for the discharge papers now."
"A bump on the head? Please, tell me you're not clumsy. That would be highly disappointing."
"No, not normally clumsy. Just an altercation outside of Granny's. Apparently, the dishwasher thought it would be a smart idea to knock me out and steal my belongings. Alas, she lacked the brains to know that you can track an iPhone."
"Ashley Boyd knocked you out?"
Because really Ashley Boyd?
For as long as he could recall, Ashley Boyd had been probably one of the biggest idiots he knew in Storybrooke who appeared to be perpetually pregnant. Even though Jaime knew that he ex-boyfriend had only knocked her up around the Valentine's Dance last winter.
It just felt like for as long as he could remember Ashley had always been working at Granny's "washing" dishes. Most of the time, if his dishes were washed by her they were dirty. It was even worse if she was filling in for Granny or Ruby. Dear lord—but she didn't seem the type of girl to mug someone especially someone like his father, who seemed like he could take care of himself if he were to ever get in a fight.
"She apparently knocked me out with a frying pan," His father said. "I was texting someone when it happened. Otherwise, it would've never happened."
"Sure," Henry said.
His father frowned, "Regardless, you should be glad that I'm alive. I could've died because of Ms. Boyd. It's not funny, Jaime."
"It sort of is if you look at the two of you, you have at least a foot on her. Although, I am glad you're okay. And it's nice you're here. Though, I should ask about the schematics. I'm guessing Emma called you? I didn't think—"
"The two of us were together?" The man said.
"Yeah," The boy said. "I mean, you're not, right?"
"We're actually married," His father told him making his eyes bug out.
Yeah, he wasn't expecting that.
Since Jaime had found out he was adopted, he had done some research. Of course, he looked up Emma's name. She was listed on the birth certificate, but his father—he wasn't. And he suspected that Emma didn't want to talk about him. She seemed almost relieved the other day, when they were interrupted by Regina when he was trying to pry information out of her. Yet, here was his father apparently in town and married to Emma.
"It's complicated," His father said. "Emma and I were planning to keep you, but there was an accident. I—we only recently found our way back together."
"That doesn't make sense, she was arrested. Surely, you saw that in the papers?"
"I'm not from the US, Jaime." His father said. "If I knew—I'm just glad that Emma was able to get out of that situation. Nothing though was what we planned."
"Obviously," The boy said. "Emma was in jail and I ended up getting raised by Regina."
"Jaime." His father said, "I know."
"No, you don't." The boy said knowing he was being silly.
He had learned a long time ago that emotional outbursts were pointless, unless thou name was Regina. But something in him, something had snapped.
Dr. Hooper had always told him that he shouldn't repress his emotions. Personally, Jaime thought he never did repress his emotions he just learned that it wasn't wise to make a spectacle over oneself when there was Regina—who had to be the center of attention. Sure, he talked about his feelings with the doctor every Thursday night around eight like clockwork, but those talks were more or less rehearsed.
He knew it was wrong, manipulating Dr. Hooper like that. But it was usually the only way he'd get Regina to back off. To be fair, when he first started visiting the psychiatrist he didn't know he could use him to his advantage. He didn't lie to the shrink when he told him that being locked up in his room scared him.
As long as he could remember, Jaime had been a bit claustrophobic. It didn't help that when he was younger, Regina would lock him up in his room for long periods of time whenever he got in trouble. It could be something as simple as spilling grape juice or not picking up his toys, she loved to lock him in his room and Jaime hated it. It didn't help that it seemed like Regina would forget about him. No matter how much knocking, pounding, or scratching that Jaime did she'd ignore him and let him out whenever she felt fit.
He remembered one such incident when he was younger was what led to him being sent to Dr. Hooper's office. Regina had locked him up for not learning to adequately tie his shoes.
Yes, he got in trouble for not knowing how to tie his shoes and it wasn't like he was that old or not even trying to tie them. As usual Regina thought a good visit in the bedroom would give him the boost he needed to be able to make the perfect set of bunny ears that would keep his Nike's tied.
Obviously, she hadn't heard of Velcro, which would've been a much easier solution than forcing him to hyperventilate in his room all weekend. By the time he was let out, Jaime's whole body was shaking and all he could think of was how much he hated Regina who was smirking as she towards the flight of stairs that lead to their living room and hoped that she would fall down—and sure enough, she did.
Jaime couldn't help but to smirk, and Regina of course caught it and sent him to Dr. Hooper.
"Of course, I didn't want her hurt." He remembered telling the doctor. Though to be honest, he wasn't so sure. He had wanted Regina to feel something for what she did to him, other than satisfaction, and it did make him feel slightly giddy when he found out she would have to be wearing a cast for the next several weeks.
Archie nodded. "I believe you, but Regina said that she thought she saw you smiling when she fell."
Jaime sighed, "I—I was locked up all weekend. I was so scared. I didn't fell like I could breathe. When I got out, I—I just wanted Regina to feel the hurt I did. And then she fell, and I got scared. I thought—I thought maybe I hurt her."
"Don't be ridiculous, Henry." The doctor said. "You didn't push Regina, she fell. Is that why you ran away?"
"Yes," He said. "Yes. I didn't smile though, I really didn't smile. I was scared."
Truth be known, he did smile. And he ran away because he wanted Regina to feel how it felt when no one came to your cries for help, but of course he couldn't tell that to Dr. Hooper. He saw the way the man looked at him, like he was some budding serial killer if he dared say that he wanted Regina to be hurt.
"Henry," The man said. "It's okay if there was a part of you that was happy that Regina fell. I get it, you were locked up for awhile."
"For two days," He remembered saying. "I—I didn't think I'd get out. But I never wanted my mom to get hurt."
Even then, it pained him to call Regina mom. While it was true he had only learned he was adopted a few weeks ago, he never felt a close kinship for the woman who raised him. Though raising him might be pushing it. Regina more or less made sure he was food and clothed, and yell at him. In all, he was treated not much better than the pet Cocker Spaniel Regina had reluctantly bought him after Dr. Hooper insisted that animal companionship might help Jaime since he didn't have many friends.
"You're responsible for that shit producer." Regina snapped at him when they went to the pet store.
Jaime remembered that he had wanted to go to the pound, since pet stores by their general nature were unethical, but Regina had insisted that he didn't end up with a fleabag mongrel.
He was actually surprised that she had agreed to buy him a pet since she had an infinity for hating all living creatures as she kept pointing out at the store.
Jaime rolled his eyes as he picked up the puppy. "You don't have to get me a dog, Regina."
"Oh, if I don't you'll whine to Hooper, and that's the last thing I need. Besides, he told me it might actually teach you some responsibility. God knows, you need to grow up."
"I'm only eight."
Regina glared at him. "Exactly."
Jaime frowned wondering if the dog, aptly named Lady, had been fed. Regina hardly paid attention to the dog since she bought her. Except to yell at her when Jaime conveniently forgot to pick up her droppings—usually when she snuck into Regina's bedroom and Regina had been particular bad. He did miss Lady though now.
"Jaime?" The man—his father asked.
Jaime looked at him and shook his head. "Don't. Apologizing is the last thing I want to hear right now."
"Apologizing?"
"Yes, you know for leaving me with that witch of an adopted mother and all that jazz."
The man sighed, "I wasn't going to apologize. Not because I'm sorry you grew up with Regina, but because I know it wouldn't do you any good. I was just going to explain, that I know how it can feel growing up with someone as cold hearted as Regina."
Jaime gave him the good old stink eye.
"My bedroom growing up was a broom closest," His father explained. "My parents died and I was raised by my aunt, she didn't like me very much."
"But she didn't drug you," Jaime pointed out.
"No, but I slept in a cupboard. But I don't think this conversation should devolve into who had the worst upbringing. Regina sucks, you being in that hospital bed is proof enough of that."
"Excuse me!"
Jaime groaned as he spotted Regina who was still wearing her Saturday Shag wear—a tight cocktail dress with an ostentatiously large necklace. At least it wasn't as embarrassing when she first met Emma. She didn't have an outright mustache, just the beginning of one.
"He said you suck for drugging me." Jaime said giving her the stink eye.
"I didn't drug you, Hen—Jaime." She said frowning as she said his name.
"Well, someone gave me sleeping pills. And since you were the only one to have access to my food it doesn't talk Sherlock Holmes to figure this out."
"You and your stupid books," She hissed. "Mr. Potter, I wish to have a word with my son. You can leave now."
"I don't think so." The man said, "There was a large amount of Ambien found in Jaime's stomach."
"You have no legal rights to my son." The woman hissed looking at him.
Jaime was surprised that his biological father rolled his eyes, like Regina's rage didn't bother him at all. "It's good that you finally decided to answer our messages, Ms. Mills."
"Mayor Mills."
"Whatever," He said. "I think it's better if we have this discussion outside."
"I don't think so," Regina said. "As far as I'm concerned we have nothing to discuss. Obviously, Emma didn't relay the message but I'll make it clear to you, you have no legal rights concerning Jaime."
His father stared at Regina and stated, "I never consented to any adoption."
"It doesn't matter." Regina huffed. "The adoption was finalized and—just get out of here."
"Jaime, do you want me to leave?" His father asked.
"I was actually going to ask for popcorn," Jaime said. "I have a feeling this could be mildly entertaining."
"Oh, it's just going to be us bickering back and forth. That's hardly entertaining. Regina will undoubtedly state that her legal claim is superior to mine, and try to kick me out. Which is ridiculous since I have at least eight inches on her."
Regina glared at him.
"Well, that's how it's going to go down, isn't it? It's hardly thrilling."
Regina finally spoke, "If you're not going to leave, we'll discuss this outside. And then I'll have a word with my son."
His father smiled, "I'm glad you sought reason. Now if you would please allow Jaime to rest for the rest of the day, I think he would appreciate it. I'm sure whatever you have to say to him can wait until he gets well."
A weird look came over Regina's face, but she nodded as they went outside the room to discuss whatever it was they were discussing.
His father looked at him as he got up, "I'll be back. Rest. You need it."
"Haven't I rested enough because of her?"
"Hey," Regina glared at him.
"You need to get the drugs out of your system." His father said before putting his hand on his shoulder. "I'll be back soon."
"Sure you will," Regina said glaring at him as if she was really saying over my dead body.
Oddly enough, Jaime didn't hear them fight and had felt really tired. He soon found himself falling back to sleep and when he opened his eyes again, Emma was there.
"She actually let you in," He said.
"HJ?" Emma said still using the name he gave her to call him since he knew it felt weird for her to use his birth name—or variant on it since his name was actually James on his birth certificate.
"Regina," He said.
"Oh," She said. "I don't think, Regina, won't be a problem for awhile."
"She was here earlier, she made him leave." Jaime said before he added. "I didn't even get to ask him what his name was?"
"Are you talking about Harry?" His mother asked. "I—I didn't even know you met him. He didn't say anything."
Jaime raised an eyebrow. "You've never mentioned him before now."
Emma sighed, "It's complicated, kid. How are you feeling?"
"Groggy." He said, "And pissed. I can't believe I broke my arm. I'm not usually clumsy."
"I'm sure you're not," His mother said with a sigh. "I'm sorry you fell out the window. Do you remember what happened?"
"No," He said. "Well, not everything. I remember being sent to my room. Regina always locks me up in my room, I hate being locked in rooms."
"I hate locked places too," Emma said. "It reminds me of—never mind."
She stopped and shook her head. She was obviously thinking about her time in prison.
Jaime had pulled up all the stories he could about his mother's incarceration that could online. It was pretty horrifying thinking of how an innocent woman was locked up for the better part of a year, and finding out that she hadn't had the choice to give him up even made it more horrifying.
"You're thinking of your time in prison, aren't you?"
"I'd rather not discuss it," Emma said.
Jaime frowned, "I understand, but what I don't understand is Harry. He said he didn't realize you were in jail."
"He didn't," Emma said. "He lives in another country, Jaime. Back then the internet wasn't anything like it is today, and—well, until my case was overturned no one really paid much attention to my case. Except for Ford, that is."
"Ford?" He asked.
"My friend," She said. "The one who sent the roses. He saved me."
There was an odd look on her face, one that Jaime couldn't pinpoint it almost looked as if there was some sort of affection, which really didn't make sense since she and Harry seemed to be together.
"Why?" Jaime found himself asking.
"Why did Ford save me, because that's what he is." Emma said, "He's a good man. He is a close friend of mine, HJ, and I don't know what I would do if he hadn't helped me."
"Those were some fancy roses he sent." Jaime said seeing if he could find out anymore information about the enigmatic Ford.
"He sends them every year," Emma said with a shrug. "He's a good friend."
"What about Harry?" He found himself asking.
"Harry?" Emma said caught off guard. "What about him?"
"What's the deal with him?" The boy asked. It seemed all confusing to him, by all accounts Emma appeared to be single. It seemed like she almost had a thing for this Ford guy too—though, she hadn't confessed as much.
"He's your father, HJ." She said.
"But you haven't seen him for years? Why now? I mean, I'm assuming you two weren't living together when I looked you up in Boston. I didn't see any guy stuff."
"We're married," Emma said. "There are some things, that are my private business."
"But he's my dad." Jaime said.
Emma sighed heavily as Harry walked in. "He's awake. Good."
"I was just asking Emma questions about your relationship," Jaime said. "Do you care to fill in any of the blanks."
"I was just telling our son," Emma said. "That some things are only adult business. Such as our relationship."
His father gave her an odd look but nodded. "So you told him about the TRO against Regina then?"
Emma frowned, "I haven't brought up the subject yet."
Harry rolled his eyes. "He's going to find out sooner or later. Especially with Whale releasing him from the hospital."
She shook her head. "Still there—"
"Is there really a right way, Emma?"
"A right way for way for what?" Jaime found himself asking.
"You're coming home with us," Harry said.