Henry wonders if this is how his mom felt when he thought of her as the Evil Queen and spent all his time trying to get away from her. If so, he definitely needs to figure out a way to make it up to her. Because it sucks.
It's been four days since he walked in on his mom and Robin Hood making out, and he's barely seen her at all in that time. Tomorrow he goes back to Emma's place and he's not quite sure what to tell her about why he's back to seeing Archie every day instead of the Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule he'd been on his last week at Emma's.
His mom isn't making it a secret that she's seeing Archie again, too. In fact, it's one of the ways she's avoiding him. Between the extra hours she's working, his therapy, and her therapy, he only sees her for a few minutes in the morning and at night, and while part of him (the embarrassed part) is glad, a much bigger part misses her.
He knows he shouldn't have asked her to stay, shouldn't have jerked off looking at her. His sessions with Archie made that pretty obvious. But he can't help but keep coming back to the fact that she stayed.
Of course, now she's gone, all the time, and he's not sure if it was worth it.
Sighing, he looks over at his desk, at the picture of the two of them, missing the way she used to hug him.
"Henry, I'm home."
Henry jumps off his bed at the call and opens his door, seeing his mom walking down the hall toward her bedroom. "Mom!"
Regina tenses, and he feels a pang of guilt. "Yes, Henry?" she asks, not turning to look at him.
"Um…" Henry hesitates, not sure what to say. "Tomorrow I go back to Ma's."
"I know, dear," Regina replies, nodding. Her back still to him.
Henry wilts, looking down at the floor. "I… I miss you," he says softly. "I'm sorry. About, you know, that day Robin Hood was here. I don't… it's hard," he whines. He sees her tense again and quickly corrects, "No, I don't, I mean, it's difficult."
Finally, Regina turns around, and Henry lifts his head to look at her. She doesn't return his gaze, but it's a start. "Henry… this is… it needs to stop. This, all of it. It's not right."
He has to fight the urge to argue, but can't quite bring himself to agree. Instead, he asks, "Because I'm your son, or because I'm twelve?"
"Henry." Her tone is full of warning.
"I'm not… I don't mean like… I just, I need to know. I-I need to know if it's me or… I dunno, circumstances."
Regina sighs and steps closer to him. Her hands lift, cupping his cheeks and she hesitantly meets his gaze. "Henry," she whispers. "You are a wonderful boy. Kind, loving, and so brave." Her smile wavers, but for some reason, Henry doesn't think it's a bad thing. "My little prince." Leaning forward, she presses her lips to his forehead, then rests her own head there. "One day you'll be a man. But you'll always be my son."
The smile she gives him as she pulls away is sad, and makes his heart ache. When she turns back to her room, his face crumples, and he retreats behind the security of his bedroom door, punching his pillow as frustrated and heartbroken tears course down his cheeks.
For all his grandparents' talk of True Love and how perfect and wonderful it is, it sucks in his case. All he wants is his mother, and it seems that through his actions, he's lost even the most familial of connections with her in his quest for a more romantic entanglement.
"Morning, Mom." Henry shuffles into the kitchen, yawning and scratching his sleep-mussed hair. He stops as he catches sight of his mother, her hands bracing herself against the island, looking too serious for her next words to be anything but bad.
"Henry… I think it would be a good idea for you to stay with Emma."
Henry's eyes narrow slightly. "Well it is my week with her," he says, denial running deep, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach.
Regina shakes her head. "Not just for the week. I think it would be good for you to live with Emma — indefinitely."
"No!" Henry bursts out, shaking his head. "Mom, no! Don't make me go away again! I'm sorry! I won't do it ever again, but please! Don't send me away!"
"Henry," Regina says pleadingly, her face creasing in pain. "I'm not sending you away, sweetheart. This will be better for both of us, I promise. Everything is too fresh right now, we need some time apart to process it all. You'll still see me. And you can come visit me at the office any time, you know that."
Henry's chin trembles and tears come to his eyes. "Please, Momma. I don't want to go."
Regina closes her eyes and bites her lip, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Henry," she whispers. "This is for the best right now."
There's a knock at the door, and Regina turns her head away. Henry swallows hard at the defeat radiating off his mother and hates himself even more. Emma knocks again, and he slowly moves from the kitchen to answer it, feeling like his world has ended — again.