We made it to chapter ten guys, yay! Thought I'd give you a Henry POV just so we see what he's getting up to. Quite proud of this chapter, personally, despite the fight I had with it (cough*Regina's POV*cough) but all in all I like how this turned out. Any questions ya'll can find me on Tumblr: regaloutlaws or regaloutlawswrites, either one will do. Hope you enjoy :)

He places the unlit candle on the chest of draws, reaching for a match and scratching it against the side before hovering the flame above the candle, watching as it attaches onto the stick and flickers. The last candle to set the room into an orangey glow as he drops the used match next to it and sits down on the bed, waiting.

It's strange how he's got used to this type of life now. Life away from big houses and electricity. Now it's just compact rooms and candles. Curtains making door frames and bedrooms in kitchens. It's home, though. Against everything, it's home. Their home.

He hears laughter sound from upstairs. Roland's laughter and Robin frowns- that isn't right, Roland shouldn't be here. Yet it feels right. Feels safe. It's summer now, the snow all cleared up, clearing the war up with it. It's safe to go outside, to not worry about being taken back to England. That's why Roland's here. He's here because it's safe and right and everything's fine. It's all fine.

Beside him, the basement door opens and his attention is immediately taken to it. He sees her. Her silhouette through the curtain, the wet strands of hair that hook around, ready to curl. Robin smiles. They'd removed the paint and bits of artwork out of the basement. She hadn't wanted to but Robin told her that it was for the best, the room below could become of some use then so she'd relented, allowed them to go and they'd sold them to people on the street, made quite a small fortune that Robin was proud of and paid someone to insulate the basement, turn it into a sort of bathroom for them to use instead of having to hide behind sheer curtains. Now they had privacy.

His smile brightens, widens, when the curtain is pulled back. He can't see her, though. For some reason, her face isn't visible and Robin feels himself frowning, his hand gripping the covers that belong to her. It's her house, her son that's sleep upstairs, she who saved him against everything, but he can't see her. He wants to see her, begs to see her.

"What you frowning for?" Her fingers ghost over his face like they're trying to remove his frown and even if he can't see what she looks like he can still feel her, that gentle touch that he's got to know over the years. His mouth follows her fingers, reaching up to grasp hold of her hand and kiss each finger. He hears her breathe out heavily and he shuts his eyes, rests his cheek against a soft fist, breathing out,

Regina...

When he opens his eyes again he can see her, see her face and the way the glow from the candles dance in her eyes, showing all the colours in there. He's stuck. Stuck staring into them as his heart doubles in speed, the space between each Lub quicker. The frown changes back into a smile, a lob-sided one, stupid and ridiculous, but one filled with love, so much love.

She gives him her own smile. Her own elusive smile that he rarely got to see yet remembered each moment he did.

"That's better," she whispers, leaning down to kiss him, lips connecting with each other as one of them hums- maybe him, he's not entirely sure- yet his eyes shut, savouring the moment like it's going to be their last and perhaps in another world, this is wrong, that they shouldn't be doing this, but that's for another world to deal with because, in this world, this is right. It's the only thing that's ever been right.

He falls back against the mattress taking Regina with him as she lets out a Hmpf, falling against his chest as their kiss is broken. Her hair's still wet, the strands soaking his shirt and fingers as his hand comes up to scratch her scalp but he doesn't care, just listens to the way she purrs quietly, eyes shutting briefly.

They hear another burst of laughter, this time from both Henry and Roland and it's amazing how much they enjoy each other's company now, amazing how there's a six year gap between the two yet they're like brothers, close as twins. The dog- Hope, Henry called her Hope- barks and perhaps he or Regina should shout up and tell them that it's time for bed, that they should have been asleep ages ago, yet either of them can be bothered to move from this curtain of safety, this bubble they've created for themselves. So they leave the three of them. They'll fall asleep in their own time, it's not going to kill anyone, not anymore.

Regina shifts, pushing herself away from Robin's chest and he mourns the contact, the warm of her leaving his body, his hand slipping out of his hair. She looks up at him and...her face is serious, the mood changing, but he can see a fear in her eyes, fear that wasn't there before, fear that shouldn't be at there at all.

Her words have him frowning, panic seizing him as he realises they may not be as safe as he thought.

"You have to get us out of here, Robin. We're going to die."

Everything around him begins fading. The candles, the curtains, Roland's laughter, Hope's barking. The room is slipping away but it's only when he sees Regina starting to drift away from him that he really cries out. Arms reaching out to grasp onto her but she's too far away, he can't get to her, can't move from his position on the bed that isn't there anymore. His hands fly up above him, clutching onto air, gripping nothing.

She's gone. Everything's gone. He's alone. All alone.

Light breaks into the truck. His eyes open slowly, adjusting to the offensive glare as he blinks a few times.

His heart sinks when he realises where he is. In the back of the truck, neck stiff from sleeping in a weird angle, on the way to his death, ripped from his dream.

A cruel, cruel dream.

He takes a glance towards Regina, still huddled up in the same position she's been since they first climbed into the vehicle. She's awakening too, it seems, also adjusting. Robin wants nothing more than to close his eyes, retreat to his dream, the part before everything began slipping away, see where else that kiss takes them. He does shut his eyes, briefly, before the second door his yanked open, he shuts his eyes, tries taking himself back to that moment. What had she said? He needed to save them. How the hell was he supposed to do that?

He doesn't have time to ponder on it, though. The second door is being opened and Robin is being pulled from the truck.

He lands on his legs awkwardly- both from sitting down for too long and for his bad leg in general. Regina's right behind him, however. It doesn't exactly warm his heart to see them treat Regina with a bit more care, surprising considering their criminals from this point onwards, both scum in the eyes of those around, so perhaps it's just insult that Peter holds out his hand for her to help her jump down from the vehicle. He sees her take it gingerly, unsure, but does so anyway. That or she tries to find another, less shameful way, to hop off the truck.

With a pang of sadness he realises this may well be the last time he ever sees her and how he wishes it was any other moment than this. The journey hasn't been any kinder to her than it has to him. It's left her own limbs stiff, worry and fear clouding her expressions, an emptiness in her eyes, hair matted and frizzy. It's against the rules (and possibly even the law, Robin doesn't know) for women and girls to wear their hair down, a stupid rule, but she hadn't exactly had much time to throw it up before these soldiers came barging in, forcing them out of their home (their home. Heh, when had he began thinking of Regina's house as their home?) He expects someone to say something, make a passing, degrading comment but maybe they don't notice which makes you think why it's even a rule anyway.

(Why is he even worrying about this, he's about to die. Well, maybe that is the reason, anything to take his mind off death)

It only then, actually, that Robin takes in his surroundings. It's quiet, he guesses most people are inside and that's when he looks to see what exactly inside is and his heart sinks, fear gripping him truly now as he turns to the building, taking in the iron gates with their barbed fencing, derelict building, all grey and dull and it couldn't be could it? Surely not, Robin only knew of a few, mostly what he'd overheard; Poland, the Netherlands, even one in France. He knew they'd have them in Germany, but was this one of them? Really? In...wherever they were?

He takes a glance towards Regina again, sees her looking at the building and that's when she catches his eye, the same question highlighted in her looks. As subtlety as he can, Robin shrugs. Maybe it's not. Maybe it just looks like one. He hopes to God that that's the case.

"Don't worry," Peter says, a smirk across his face when his voice catches Robin and Regina's attention. "It's not what you think. Sadly we couldn't use one. Shame really, don't you think?"

Robin chooses not to answer. Regina, too. Maybe it's best they don't speak at all, it could only make things worse.

"We should probably get them inside." A brown-haired man says, the one who went down to the basement during the first visit. "Get that one locked up," he nods to Regina who only gives him a stone-cold look. "We should probably get talking to that one," he looks towards Robin. "see what he wants."

Peter turns towards Regina, "Ready, my lady?" In full mockery, he offers his arm out to her but she doesn't take it, just moves that same expression from the brown-haired soldier to Peter and Peter drops his arm, reaching to grip Regina's as he half-pulls, half-drags her inside.

"I'll get this one settled in," he shouts before he enters. "I'll come back for the other one. Don't want to miss the fun after all."

Robin watches the two leave, clenches his hand into a fist and bites the inside of his cheek, fully prepared for whatever this pathetic excuses for men want to throw at him.

.:.:.:.:.:.

Her heart is hammering. Beating against her chest at a rapid pace. She spares a thought to Robin, the wondering of where they're taking him, what's going to happen to him, yet her own predicament has her thoughts solely on herself.

Her palms are sweaty, can feel it in her clench fist as she's led down the corridor. Not for the first time, she wonders how they let it get to this stage and not for the first time, does her mind wander back to Henry. Regina almost as the impulse to ask again where he is, how is he, is he in good care, but it's futiless, she knows it is. She'll just get the same answer she got the last time.

But how she hopes he's okay, hopes he's being treated well. None of this is his fault, after all, nobody can blame a ten year old, not even these heartless bastards. It was a mistake. An innocent mistake put into the wrong hands. Though if it's anyone's neck she wants to wring, it's Sid Müller's; she never liked the child in the first place, his parents had no control of him (at least his sister turned out to be alright somehow) She doesn't condemn violence, at least when it comes to Henry anyway, but half of her also hopes for him to do what he did to Neal Nolan- only this time not result in him getting suspended from school.

"You can wait in there."

Peter's voice has her coming back to now. Now, where she is and she's actually surprised to find the cells around her empty. For some reason, that doesn't set right in her stomach but she says nothing, waits for Peter to let go of her arm and walks herself into the cell, turning around just as he shuts the bars and locks in her.

There was never a moment in her life where she thought she'd be imprisoned, never for this reason or any reason even. Cora would never live through it. Regina can almost hear her voice now, telling her how much of a disgrace she is to this family, how she's tarnished their name (their name was already tarnished once she was added to the family) but she pushes Cora away, now is not the time for her mother to make herself known as Regina's subconscious.

"Be interesting to see how long you stay in here. From what I heard the likes of you don't stay every long."

Regina frowns at that, unsure what type of 'you' he was preferring to. The fact that she's now a criminal or that she's not part of the 'pure' race. Either way she says quiet, an amazing feat for her, if the circumstances were different perhaps she'd congratulate herself.

"Quiet one, aren't you?" Peter says, his head cocking to the side. Regina feels a shiver run through her as she studies her, the way his gaze lingers on certain parts of her. The dress she chose to wear isn't the most revealing. Hidden in the basement, between old corsets and floor length dresses she wore as a teenager, are clothes that would certainly get the word 'whore' thrown around whenever she walked through the street but the dress she wears today is a little low cut, not much, but still enough to have some prudes raise their eyebrows and scorn, and yes, the middle button does strain a tiny bit but there was nothing she could do about that. In all honestly, she doesn't wear this dress to catch anyone's attention, not even Robin, she wore it because it was practical, still stuck to the rules that were thrown upon them once Hitler became in charge, and she even likes it, as crazy as that may sound.

"We'll soon have you screaming for your life...or death."

The smirk he gives her as Regina desperately trying not to show her distaste. She's amongst animals, creatures who don't know how to behave around others, would willingly attack a group of people because they were a certain religion, so Regina has no qualms about why she'd be begging for her death. The thought should repel her, and it does- the last thing she wants is any of these people near her than necessary.

She's grateful when he leaves, means she can now just sit alone, cry, scream, do whatever she wanted to and keep her thoughts away from Robin, what they would- will- do to him.

She sits on the metal bench (guesses that's to be her bed for the night) resists the urge to pick at the skin around her nails, Cora's voice being heard once more; It's such a dirty habit, Regina; one a lady shouldn't do. The state of your fingers, Regina, seriously. Instead she stares at the wall and tries to make herself as numb as possible.

.:.:..:.:.:.

The place is swarmed- men and boys running everywhere, lines spewing from tables near the back. Everyone is hoping to gain a place in the army- any army- anything to fight for their country.

And now it was Robin's turn.

"We should go home," Marian says, adjusting Roland on her hip. The boy is dazed, tired from being woken up early in order to get here, eyes trying to take in the recruitment station, all the people there. Yes, they should go home; she and Roland.

"You go," Robin says, sighing. "You don't need to be here."

"Neither do you." she counters back, keeping her voice low and Robin rolls his eyes. He's lost count of the amount of times they've had this argument. Marian wanted him to stay, Robin wanted to go. He did want to go, the posters had no affect on him, this was his choice. Something Marian clearly didn't understand.

"Nobody's forcing you to be here, Robin."

"I know," Robin says through gritted teeth. He was told the first time that war, the discipline, would help him with his 'anger issues'. It was the orphanage staff to told him that and out of stubborn-ness, he didn't believe them and actively told them to "fuck off" before packing his bag and leaving the place, leaving it for good.

Now he'd had some thought about it, and now the chance to join and fight has came again, and this time he's taking it.

"So why are we here?"

"Because I want to be here, Marian. I want this."

Marian scoffs. "What? You want your son to grow up without a father?" Her voice raises a little and those closest to them turn their heads, eyeing them. She, at least, has the decency to look at bit ashamed when she notices their glances. A recruitment station isn't the best place to have an argument, after all.

Lowering her voice, she carries on. "Because that's what happened to me."

Yes, Robin knows the story. Knows how Marian's father joined the army, fought in the war, and never returned home, but that won't happen to him. Sure, he's not the scrawny little kid he used to be but he's still not about to be put out on the front, leading the army into battle, he'll be on the sidelines- helping as much as he can. That's what he wants.

"I can't stay here and do nothing."

"You're not staying here and doing nothing, you're caring for your son."

Robin sighs again, running a hand over his face as the line begins moving.

"Go home, Marian."

"No."

God, how did he end up marrying someone so stubborn?

"Fine," he says. "If you won't go home for yourself, go home for Roland. Get him to bed."

She looks towards the child still in her arms, gives one look at his hanging head and drooping eyes.

"Fine," she says, adjusting him once more. "Guess I better start preparing your photos, least he's got some memory of you."

He watches as she leaves, making her way through the crowds of men, even pushing some of them out of the way.

Robin shakes his head. He's going to come home, he'll fight to come home.

Why that memory, Robin wonders. Is it because what Marian says has now ended up being true? Or maybe it's the irony of it all. He's not out on the front, he's on the sidelines, just as he wanted to be, yet here he is, still about to die.

Yes, it's the irony.

And Roland...Roland who'll have no idea of his death. He's on his way to becoming an orphan, just like his father.

Like father, like son; isn't that what they say?

He focuses on his fingers. His ankles are tied to the legs of the chair but least they let his hands be free. He glances towards the soldier; the brown-haired on and the old one who'd escorted Regina to the truck back home. They're talking German; his German was never too advanced, he knew the basics and the basics only but even if he was fluent in the language, he'd still have no idea what they were saying, the only words he can remember are Danke and Ich liebe dich either useful in this situation.

He wonders where Peter's gone. Knows he took Regina to her cell. Regina...He hopes she's okay, hopes she isn't fretting over him. Her worries are too good to be wasted on him, he's the reason she's here. Not at home, cooking Henry's food and Henry! Has someone told him what's going on? What's happened? Is the boy hating himself, blaming himself? Or is he left in the dark, worrying about where his mother's gone.

He'll never know. None of them will ever know.

God, this is all his fault.

He should have listened to Marian, he thinks. Two years ago, he should've listened to Marian, should have gone home with her and Roland when she said.

He wouldn't be here, dragging Regina and Henry and god knows who else into this mess.

It was a mess to begin with. Henry should have left him to die in that field.

His fist thuds against the table, perhaps the wrong move to make as it as the soldiers stopping their conversation, looking towards them, but Robin doesn't care. He angry, can feel his restraints wrapped around his feet, unable to move. It's frustrating it, driving him crazy. All he can feel is anger, anger tightening in his chest. They never train you for these situations surprisingly, never train you for capture, or at least never trained him. His fist thuds the table once more, teeth biting in his lip to keep from screaming.

"Getting angry, are we?"

It's the old one who speaks and Robin spares him a glance, a hate filled glance, before turning away and looking down at this fingers once more, the side of his hand budding with pain.

"Can you blame me?" he says, still focused on his fist.

"So you have a voice? No longer the mute husband stuck in bed?"

Robin lets out a sort of heh at that, not a laugh or a scorn, somewhere in between. The lie, Regina's lie to keep them from getting into trouble earlier. A waste, Robin thinks. They were never getting away with this.

The man moves towards the chair and Robin prepares himself for the interrogation, the questions he's sure to be asked but the brown-haired solider has the man stopping, speaking in German, he asks a question.

"He'll want us to start," the man answers. "And no need for German, Isaac. English will suit us just fine. We'll need it so he can understand us."

Maybe that last part was supposed to be an insult, the man has no idea that Robin's at least a little educated in the language but he guesses he could take it as an honour, be grateful that he's not being forced to speak a language he doesn't know.

"Let's start with the easy questions, shall we?" the man says and his friend- Isaac- takes the seat next to him, all eyes on Robin. "Why were you sent here?"

Robin shifts, letting out a breath and begins. Begins telling the story of why he's here, who saved him, how he ended up living in Regina's house, where he works, how he got work, even the German lessons.

He leaves out one crucial part, however. In fact, he leaves out two; his son back in England and another, not so necessary part but one that could be used greatly if in the wrong hands.

He leaves out the part where he fell in love with his rescuer.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The knock against the door has his fist clenching, teeth gritting. Don't these people understand he just wants to be alone? He doesn't want to have anything to do with these people, they're nothing to him. He wants his mama and Robin. His ball and house and Mama's potato soup. He doesn't want fancy meals, three course meals that he only eats half of, big houses with big rooms that just make him feel lonely. He wants that he had. He wants what he knows.

"Henry?" Her voice is cautious, hesitant to disturb him and good, it should be. "Henry, you can't stay in here forever."

"Go away!" he shouts back. His back is to the door, sitting on a bed that isn't his bed, staring at a wall that it isn't his wall.

Maybe it's a little unfair, she's only trying to help him but...she can't bring back Mama, so there's no point in her being here, she might as well just go away.

"I know you blame yourself for what happened to your mother-"

Fury serges through him, none he's felt since he punched Neal Nolan. Whipping his head towards the door as tears begin forming in his eyes, he shouts, "Go away! You don't know anything about that!"

There's a sniffle from him, fighting back those tears that haven't stop coming since he was dragged away from the office. He turns his head back to facing the wall, wiping the tretcherous tears that won't stop forming.

There's a pause outside. Maybe she's listened and gone away...

"Please Henry," No, she hasn't. His head falls into his hands, slouched over. "Please just let me in."

Henry bites his lip, frowning, calming down that anger. Mama wouldn't want him being rude, she'd tell him she raised him better, and she definitely wouldn't want him being rude to girls. With a sigh, giving one last wipe to his blood-shot eyes, he calls back to her with a sigh.

"Fiiinne."

He hears the door being opened slowly, shutting his eyes as he allows someone in for the first time.

"Oh, Henry..."

He hates it. Hates hearing the pitting in her voice. Though it shouldn't surprise him, the curtains are closed shut blocking out all the light, the canopy curtains around his bed are shut around him, encasing him in his grief.

He hears her footsteps approaching him, quells the urge to shout at her to go away. He let her in after all, didn't he?

A hand grips onto one of the curtains, pulling it back and he turns his head, catching sight of the girl for the first time since this morning. She's changed her clothes, no longer wearing those formal dresses he saw Mrs Nolan or Emma wear. Instead she's dressed for bed, a blue nightdress and her hair tied back. Maybe she was on her way to bed before stopping to see him, it is late after all, later than Mama let him stay up.

Mama...

Will he see her again? He doesn't think he'll see Robin again, Robin's English, he's not supposed to be here. Now they'll take him away because he said something he wasn't meant to. And Mama...Will they take her too? This is all his fault.

He can't help himself then, his lip quivers no matter how much his tries to stop it, to be brave like Mama taught him to, his eyes swelling up with tears. He's stupid! A stupid little boy...

"Henry..." She climbs onto the bed, the girl- Wendy, that's her name, she has two little brothers; John and Michael. Michael offered him his bear when they first met this morning but Henry had thrown it, telling the boy a little bear wasn't going to bring back his mama. He hadn't cried then. He wanted to, but he hadn't. He wasn't going to cry in front of these people. But now...

Wendy wraps his arms around him, bringing him towards her and it's nice. Nice being held and allowed to cry. Mama did it a lot, when he was younger and when his father ran away. He thought that was his fault, too, thought he did something wrong and Papa didn't want him anymore. Mama had seen to that though, calming him down and telling him that Papa had important business he had to do. It must be important; Henry hasn't seen him since.

"I just want her back," he cries, inaudible almost by the lump in his throat. God, he sounds and looks like a baby; eyes red, salty tasting tears running down his face, nose snotty. Wendy doesn't seem to mind, though- Mama didn't mind either, even when Henry got snot and slobber all over her nice clean dresses, she didn't mind, telling him she'd had worse on her.

"I know," Wendy says, her hands rubbing his back and it's comforting, really comforting. He feels his eyes beginning to droop, unable to keep them open. Will he sleep, though? He hopes, he's usually a good sleeper, but that's with Mama in the house- he knows that if Mama's home then nothing can hurt him. Knows that if Mama's home everything is fine and safe and happy. But it's not any of these things, because Mama's not home. He's not home.

He pushes himself away from Wendy and Wendy removes her arms from around him.

"It's going to be all right." she says as he looks up. "You're Mama will be fine."

"Will she?" he asks. He doesn't believe that- the men took her after all, the bad men who take people they don't like. They don't like his Mama.

"Of course she will, you just have to believe it." She hopes off the bed then, a smile on her face as she asks, "Do you want me to tell you a story before bed? I used to tell one to my brothers all the time to help them sleep, what about you?"

He frowns again. Mama used to tell him stories all the time when he was little and he really liked them, more then he'd like to admit. He was the one who stopped them, when Mama came into his room and Henry had blurted out I'm a big boy now, Mama. I don't need stories! Mama had smiled but it hadn't quite reached her eyes now when he thinks about it but she'd smiled, asking if she at least gets to kiss him goodbye which he'd proclaimed him a Yes! before leaving and the bedtime stories stopped.

He misses Mama's smile...

Maybe a story will help him sleep. Maybe he's not too old after all. So he nods, settling into bed and Wendy climbs back onto it, sitting in front of him with her legs crossed as she begins her stories, using silly voices that make Henry laugh and even acting some parts out. She finishes, telling her that John and Michael shall join them tomorrow night and Henry nods, his eyes beginning to close. He likes Wendy, and though his heart is still heavy, he's still feeling guilty, still missing Mama and Robin, he falls asleep easily, almost away as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Something does stick out to him, though. The princess Wendy mentioned in her story, it reminded him of Mama and if the princess can get out of whatever situation she's in, so can Mama.