Regina hadn't meant to hurt Emma, not really. She'd responded with panic and instinct, the way she did when anyone tried to work their way past her barriers.

She was like a loaded pistol in the hands of a jittery war veteran, poised to go off at the slightest provocation. And go off she had. She'd driven the knife into Emma's heart where she was weakest and then twisted it. Yet, unbelievably, she really hadn't intended to do real lasting harm. But from Emma's total avoidance of her for going on a week and a half, Regina could tell that's what she'd done.

And she had no idea how to fix it.

When you've spent your entire adult life trying to crush people the ability to put them back together again isn't one you concentrate on cultivating. Every idea she came up with seemed wrong somehow. Too trite, too shallow, too sentimental, too cavalier, too self-indulgent.

She found herself wishing, not for the first time, that she had a friend in the tiny town she'd created. That's what friends talked about right? Mistakes, fears. They gave advice and counselled courses of action. So far the only person in all of Storybrooke who seemed to fit that bill was the one she needed advice about.

Regina was at the end of her rope, ready to try anything, when Henry showed up on her front porch.

He rang the bell, feeling awkward at behaving like a guest at his old home. Regina had swung the door open quickly, as if she'd been hovering in the foyer awaiting a guest. For the first time in his life Regina looked disappointed to see Henry, clearly hoping to have seen another face at her door.

This initial disappointment was quickly replaced with a look of fondness and finally of confusion.

"Henry! What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too Mom," he said cheekily.

She opened her arms and allowed her son to walk into a loose hug.

"Of course it's good to see you. I just wasn't expecting you. Are you here by yourself?"

Henry stepped back and nodded, his little face growing solemn.

"Emma doesn't know I'm here."

At the mention of Emma's name Regina could feel herself flinch. Henry was a perceptive boy who didn't miss much. He didn't say anything but Regina could feel his watchful gaze taking in her body language.

"Why didn't you tell her?" Regina wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"Because she's mad at you." Now Regina was sure she didn't want to hear the answer.

Things had been going so well for the three of them. Regina had almost started to think that they could function as a little family. And now she'd ruined it. Emma would never speak to her again which meant that Henry would want nothing to do with her either.

Henry watched the hope slide out of his mother. He saw the slow, steady stain of resignation permeate her every movement. She dropped her eyes from his gaze, as if ashamed to look at him.

"So can I come in?"

Regina looked up, bewildered. He wanted to come in? As if in answer to her unasked question Henry spoke again.

"Look, you obviously did something that made Emma upset. But it's okay. I'll help you. We can fix it."

Regina could feel tears welling up in her eyes but she choked them down, not wanting to make a scene in front of Henry. Her little boy. Who wanted to help her.

"I'm not sure we're going to be able to fix this one sweetheart," she said gently, her heart straining.

His smile widened, he was practically beaming.

"Of course we can. True love breaks any curse. Now can I come in?"

This time he didn't wait for a response, striding across the threshold of his old house, leaving a stunned and silent Regina in his wake. She heard him making his way through the house and followed in a daze, trying to comprehend his grand declaration.

She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Henry clambered onto a stool and began going through the pantry. He looked up, slightly sheepish.

"Sorry, is it okay if I get myself something to eat?" he asked.

Regina still felt off kilter and answered him absentmindedly. "Of course, this is still your house Henry."

He gave a satisfied grunt and began pulling out the makings of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He was just taking his first bite when Regina seemed to recover her powers of speech.

"Sweetheart, what did you mean by true love breaks any curse? What does that have to do with me upsetting Emma?"

"I get what you mean," he started. "A fight isn't exactly a curse. Maybe we should change it to "True love overcomes all obstacles." Better?"

"So you think that Emma and I…."

"Are true loves," he finished matter-of-factly. He might as well have been telling her the weather forecast.

"Henry…."

"Mom, you don't have to explain it to me. I know what happened. Emma saved you. She saved you even when I couldn't. Who else but your true love could have done that?"

Her mind still reeling, Regina latched onto the one part of the conversation that seemed the least frightening to approach.

"You tried to save me?" Emma had never mentioned this to her.

Henry nodded slowly, clearly not wanting to elaborate. At her continued stare he reluctantly shared the story.

"I tried to break the curse with true loves kiss. But it didn't work." He became impassioned then, almost desperate. "I don't know why it didn't work because I do love you! Honest Mom I do!"

"I know you do sweetheart."

"Then why didn't it work?" He sounded hopeless and devastated. A child that's just been told there's no Santa Claus. It was in these moments that Regina remembered just how young her precocious little boy really was.

"True love is different Henry. In order to truly love someone you have to know their soul. And they have to know yours. I've always kept you at a distance because I thought that's what I had to do to be a parent. But I was wrong. I kept you from really knowing who I am. And that's why you couldn't save me from the curse."

Henry seemed to be taking it all in, considering her words very carefully. And, as always, he came out of it with an optimistic perspective.

"I can get to know you now though can't I?"

Aware that she was quite possibly overstepping the quota for the amount of affection Henry would allow to be bestowed upon him in a single day, Regina pulled him into a tight hug.

"Yes you can."

He allowed her to hold him for a few seconds before pulling away.

"Okay, okay, enough mushy stuff!" he declared. "We have a plan to make!"

Regina felt all of the buoyancy in her deflate as she remembered the predicament that brought her son here. He ploughed ahead anyway, not needing her encouragement.

"You did something to make her mad. Now she's not talking to you. So all you have to do is say you're sorry and make it up to her."

If only the whole word worked on that kind of logic, Regina thought longingly.

"Henry, I don't think it's going to be quite that easy."

"Why not?" he asked defiantly.

"Because I hurt Emma, a lot."

"Did you mean to?"

"No."

"Well just explain that."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Henry!"

"What?"

Regina took a large breath in and tried to calm herself. The last thing she needed right now was the be snapping at the one person who seemed to be, for the moment, on her side.

"Henry, this thing between Emma and I. It's very complicated."

Henry adopted a look of total distaste. "Adults always say that when they don't want to do something and don't want to have to explain why."

Regina ran a hand over her face, a tension headache beginning to spread outwards from her temples. Though she loathed admitting it, Henry had a point. When it all boiled down to it Regina had feelings for Emma and Emma had feelings for Regina. Regina had gotten scared and pushed Emma away.

So now she had to apologise and…what was it Henry had said? Make it up to her?

"Okay," she said, humouring her son. "For arguments sake let's say Emma lets me speak long enough to apologise. What do I do to make it up to her?"

"Well," he said mischievously. "In all the stories a kiss usually does the trick."

At the look on his mother's face he quickly amended his advice. "Or you know, you could start with a hug. A handshake. Whatever."

Regina was quiet for so long that Henry thought maybe he'd upset her. She seemed to be struggling under the enormity of what she was about to do. Or more to the point, the enormity of what it was she found herself wanting to do.

Finally she looked up and gave Henry a small smile.

"Okay," she said. "Let's do it."

See, Henry can be an okay sort of chap when he wants to be. Next chapter will be sealed with a kiss but will it be a kiss with a fist?