In fulfillment of a prompt received on tumblr requesting some TLC for Regina after Robin is attacked by the Fury. Heavy on Regal Believer and Dimples Queen.
She watches his chest rise and fall, half-afraid of blinking in case it were to stop, glued to his bedside in case there is damage to his body she can neither sense nor see. The easy rhythm of his breathing should lull her into relaxation, but she's taut to the point of snapping, and she straightens her spine as she reaches for her second cup of coffee, fuel necessary to keep her sharp during this self-imposed vigil.
"Mom. You need to rest."
She turns to face her son now standing in the door frame, not surprised to find Roland glued to his side, sucking his thumb as the child is prone to do when he's overtired.
"I thought you two were asleep."
Small feet rush to her side, and Roland practically propels himself onto her lap, burying his head into her chest as his arms wrap around her neck. She gathers him as close as she can, whispering assurances into his ear as she strokes his back through his soft, cotton pajama shirt.
"He's not going to sleep without you," Henry whispers, moving into her bedroom. Roland's sniffle tickles her shoulder, and she places a kiss into still damp curls that smell of baby shampoo. "Why don't the two of you just climb into bed with Robin?"
She hesitates, every muscle in her body wanting to stretch out on to her mattress and let it detach her from the worries of the day.
"Someone needs to keep an eye on him," she breathes, watching as Henry crosses his arms over his chest. "In case there's still something…"
"He's fine, Mom," Henry interrupts. "You know it. The doctors know it. And you were hurt, too. You need sleep as badly as he does."
"I'm fine," she insists as Roland winds his legs around her waist.
"That fury threw you against a tree."
"But it didn't try to suck my life away, Henry. It didn't leave me cold and practically…"
She stops, feeling Roland tense around her body at a word she calls back before it can solidify.
"Unconscious," she corrects, swallowing hard. "On the ground."
She and Henry stare into each other, each of them taking stock of this impasse they've reached.
"Then I'll watch Robin for you," Henry says with a shrug. "You and Roland can go sleep in my bed."
She's shaking her head before he can finish his sentence.
"That's what you're supposed to be doing," she reminds him. "Sleeping."
"I tried, but Roland can't settle down," Henry says, his arms falling to his side. "He doesn't want me right now. He wants you and his dad."
She feels tears on her neck, tears a child of Roland's age shouldn't be crying, and she rocks him back and forth in her chair, torn between the need to care for both the father and the son simultaneously.
"Please, Mom," Henry whispers. "For once in my life, let me take care of you."
Her heart melts at his concern as her arguments wither away under the weight of bone-crushing fatigue.
"Alright," she says, exhaling into the room. "But only for a little while."
A few minutes later, she's settled in his bed, snuggled up next to another little boy she will one day officially claim as her own, allowing this young man who'd somehow managed to grow up overnight to tuck her in and lean down to plant a goodnight kiss on her cheek.
"Come and get me when you get tired," she instructs, always the mother, always worrying over him, even when there's no need.
"I will," Henry states. "I promise. But only if you stay in bed and sleep."
She smiles at this, at Henry's stubborn streak, at this fusion of Charming hope and Mills pragmatism that defines this lanky teenager she loves more than life itself.
"You drive a hard bargain," she hums as Henry turns out the light and walks to the door, laughing as she hears him mutter Who do you think taught me how? Her eyes close the moment the door is shut, and she's asleep within seconds, blissfully and completely asleep, as is the curly-haired boy who snores softly into her chest, warming a piece of her heart he doesn't yet realize already belongs to him.