Chapter Text
It happened randomly one night when Regina once again couldn’t sleep. She awoke with a gasp clutching at her sheets. Rolling to the side in the dark she reached out to grab for her phone. 3 am again. It took the poor woman ages to fall asleep and like clockwork each night she’d find herself awoken at three from a frightening nightmare for which she had no memory.
The brunette set the phone back down. Sitting up, she wiped her forehead of sweat with one hand, then lay her head on her knees, focusing on calming her rapid heartbeat with deep breaths as she had been taught by Archie. He seemed to think it was the relentless needs of the populace that were keeping her awake every night. But that was nothing new. Regina believed that something else was going on. She’d investigated all means of magical maladies and tested for potential curses, but to no avail.
Sighing, she rose and headed for her bathroom to wash her face and grab her bathrobe. She could tell already she would not be going back to sleep.
After cleaning herself up, the brunette slowly made her way downstairs. She was currently in her home at 108 Mifflin, having decided to spend the holidays in Storybrooke that year. With the news of Emma’s divorce, even Henry had agreed they should all be nearby for Christmas.
Regina made certain to tread quietly as her son and his family were still sleeping soundly in the guest rooms. Unsure what to do with herself, she found herself aimlessly walking through the rooms downstairs, before her brain caught up with her, and she realized that she was now standing in her pantry.
Furrowing her brow, the tendrils of something from her memory settled just outside of reach, but then a familiar smell drew itself to the forefront of her mind. Gazing around the shelves, she spotted the smashed edges of a white cardboard box shoved in the back of a lower shelf.
Crouching, she reached out and pulled the box from what might have been meant as a hiding space. Reading the front label, the brunette scoffed. No doubt this was indeed the case, as she’d never in a million years buy something this processed for her family.
Leaving the pantry she approached the garbage intending to throw the offending item away, but something gave her pause. She stood staring at the foul cardboard. She knew it housed sugar and preservatives attempting to pass themselves off as sustenance, but for some strange reason she could not bring herself to throw it away. Instead she found herself opening the top and inhaling the tantalizing smell of cinnamon and sweetness and something else, something not quite identifiable that just tickled the edges of her memory.
Later she’d blame her sleep induced state for what followed, but her body acted on autopilot, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet, a spoon from the drawer and the milk from the refrigerator. Now seated at the dining table with a bowl of the children’s cereal set out in front of her, Regina lifted a large spoonful to her mouth. The taste was not at all what she had expected nor was it, honestly, that enjoyable. The cereal had a slight cardboard-y stale aspect to it and the cinnamon was a bit more pungent than it should have been. It was definitely sweet, but not cloyingly so. It almost made her sneeze, with all the powder it produced.
And yet, the next thing she knew, she had finished the bowl and gone back for a second. It wasn’t until the remains of the box had been emptied and discarded in the trash, and Regina had rinsed and set the dishes into the dishwasher, that the brunette realized the odd food had brought her some level of comfort. It settled heavy in her stomach and she found herself yawning. Heading back to her room with a slight smile on her face, for the first time in weeks she got back in her bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.