She lets out a deep sigh, when she closes the white wooden door, the only thing on her mind being Henry and a very big amount of sleep. While she's slowly taking the stairs up to her room (their room now, she supposes), she thinks about peeking in and checking on him. Her head replays the scene which only happened moments before. A strong and broken Henry, trying to hold back his tears in front of his mother , asking her to give him some space and repeating that he'll be fine for the third time.
He took the steps two at a time after that and tried to muffle his sobs by pressing his hand to his mouth. Regina wanted comfort her little prince so badly, but still had to accept what he asked for: space. Space and time she supposes as she walks by his door and can still hear him crying softly from the inside. The stinging in her heart is strong, so very strong and maybe, maybe she'll be able to sooth it tomorrow, when she knows Henry will be okay.
She's almost at the end of a hall when she hears it: "Mom?" It's whispered by a raspy voice. A voice she would notice everywhere. She turns around and is faced with the tousled brown hair of her son, his face is hidden, a slumped figure, standing behind the small crack of the door.
It's the familiar position of his hand on his stomach which catches her eyes at first. And it makes her smile, because he seems so much like her, when she tries to prot.. No, no, that can't be happening. He can't shield himself from her. Her eyes look sadder now when she lays them upon him again and she's hesitantly walking closer to him, but when he drops his hand and lifts his face to let her see his pain, she knows she's allowed to crush her boy in a big hug.
His arms lift to her shoulder blades, tightening his grip on her even more. She hears him inhale deeply, when he hides his face in her neck. Her familiar scent filling his nostrils. As a kid he always searched for the right words to describe it. It's been vanilla, apple, cinnamon and often times even lasagna. But now he realizes it. Home. She smells like home and he never wants to let go.
She loosens her grip and takes a hold of his hand, leading him to his bed. When she lays down and pats the spot beside her, he immediately crawls close to her and lifts his head to lay upon her chest.
He got heavy. She won't say anything, because right now this is more important than her being crushed, but yes he got heavy, her little prince. Even heavier now with all what rests upon his soul and she promises to herself, that she'll to everything to lift these worries and have him lighter again.
He notices when she drifts of into her mind and he doesn't want her to worry so he speaks again, even if it's only four words.
"I love you, Mom". It's mumbled and still raspy when the words leave his mouth, but when she lifts a hand to his hair and presses a kiss on his forehead, he knows she heard it. He's almost asleep when she answers him. "I love you so dearly as well, my little prince" and it's with another kiss to his forehead that he finally rests and finds his sleep, giving him peace for at least a few hours .
They will handle this tomorrow, but right now this is enough.