Bright eyes flicker up hesitantly as the brunette takes a seat at the dining room table; a strong black coffee cupped in her slender hands. Henry looks back down at his Cheerio's awkwardly, chasing the little O's around the bowl with his spoon. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his mother open and close her mouth a few times as though trying to find the right thing to say. Eventually the Mayor's eyes drop to her coffee and she lets out a defeated sigh.
Henry is astonished to find that the brunette looks almost sad, and his first thought is unkind; sure that Regina is simply manipulating him into feeling guilty for last night's outburst.
"The thing about real life, kid, is that things tend to be a hell of a lot more complicated than 'good' and 'evil'..."
Emma's surprising statement... And he supposes that he does in fact feel a little guilty, regardless of the Mayor's possible motives. He has spent so much of his time engrossing himself in the undeniable, unquestionable- hell- documented fact that the woman sitting opposite him is pure evil, that he has perhaps lost sight of the person beneath. He is still skeptical about Emma's sudden blasé trust towards her supposed enemy, but the blonde's hushed voice as she had sat with him on his bed and demanded he realize his mother's evident love for him haunts him in a way that is almost comforting.
Looking back up at the brunette, he speaks in the low, polite tone the Mayor had believed lost towards her since long before the Sheriff's arrival.
"How do you feel?"
Regina glances up, startled, regarding the young boy with pink tinged eyes. Faltering momentarily beneath her glittering coals, Henry simply does what comes naturally and offers her a smile; small at first, but then wide and genuine. The brunette stares down at her coffee hastily, swallowing as she feels tears prickling beneath her lashes. Running a slender finger thoughtfully over the mug's handle, she reciprocates with a small smile of her own.
"I have felt worse, but I have also felt a lot better..."
"Would you like some water?"
"That... Would be lovely."
She watches as Henry slides from his chair and pads over to the kitchen, his jeans looking suspiciously crumpled and drowning in the grey hoodie bestowed upon him by the blonde. She glimpses the small rip in the sweater's sleeve- a remnant of his rather chaotic adventures with the Sheriff in the woods- and muses with a sigh on just how much he reminds her of Emma with his hair mussed and his clothes falling about his body haphazardly.
Henry returns to the table with a tall glass of water. She had heard the tap running, despite her preference for bottled water, but she doesn't mention this. She simply takes a delicate sip before regarding Henry with tentative sorrow.
"Henry... What happened last night... I should never have-"
"-It's okay."
The small brunet shrugs as he looks up at her, his expression childishly casual as he goes on to explain his discussion with the blonde. He reasons that his mother must be aware that Emma had stayed over, and so referring to the fact is unlikely to get the Sheriff into trouble, but he offers the Mayor an abridged version none the less, and in this version he had come across the blonde downstairs while getting himself a glass of water.
"Emma said you were drinking because you were sad..."
"Trust Miss Swan to tell a child that liquor is the way to solve their sorrows..."
Henry ignores her statement, her rich tone absent from it's usual scorn when speaking of the Sheriff. If he didn't know any better, he would even go so far as to say he'd detected a hint of amusement as the words fall from her lips.
Of course, he does know better than to believe something like that.
"Are you sad?"
"Oh, Henry, of course not..."
"Because if you are, you can say."
"...I was upset last night, sweetheart... I did something I wished I hadn't, and thinking about it made me very upset because I regret the thing I did very much... I should never have dealt with it that way- alcohol solves nothing, you best remember that, Henry- and I should never have allowed myself to talk and act the way I did to Mr Glass, especially with you in the house... I'm sorry."
"It's ok... I guess I was kind of a jerk too..."
Dark eyes sparkle with a mixture of irritation at yet another adverse term added to her son's repertoire, and amusement. Reaching for her son's hand across the table, she squeezes it lightly, her heart breaking a little at his ill-concealed flinch before he relaxes his fingers in hers.
"You were right to be angry, Henry."
"I... I wasn't very angry. Emma said I shouldn't have talked to you like I did... And I'm sorry I called you evil."
The breath catches in the brunette's throat at the magnitude of that small statement. Her son's constant witch hunt at the mercy of that wretched book leaving her having heard the word muttered and whispered so many times, and yet the pain of the word coming from him never dulling with the hateful repetition. Clearing her throat, she carries on lightly, once more diverting her attention carefully down to her coffee.
"Miss Swan said that?"
"Yes... She... She told me... Why didn't you tell me you helped Emma in the storm?"
"... Hmmm?"
"She told me you helped her by letting her stay here so that she wouldn't get hurt... Why didn't you tell me?"
"...I suppose I didn't think it was a matter of concern."
"You helped Emma. You made sure she wouldn't get hurt... That's not something the Evil Queen would do..."
Regina bites her lip, blinking furiously as she feels her lashes laced instantly with moisture. Glancing up at the boy cautiously, she carries on in a voice not quite steady.
"Things are never as simple as 'good' and 'evil', Henry... Not even in your fairy tales... But that means more to me than you know that you think that way..."
Henry blushes, shrugging sheepishly before offering a tentative grin which the brunette repays in kind. Slipping from the table, he turns to collect his empty bowl and spoon before padding softly out into the kitchen. His mother's voice has him returning to stand in the doorway once he has placed the items in the dishwasher.
"Come here."
He sidles up to her curiously, his eyes wide when she pulls him onto her lap in a way he hasn't allowed her to do in years, her arms wrapping warmly around him. Twisting a little, he settles his own arms around her neck and closes his eyes as slim fingers play out gentle patterns on his back. Kissing him gently at the crown of his dark locks, she pulls back, studying him genially.
"Did you sleep in your clothes?"
The boy stiffens in her embrace nervously, but the brunette merely brushes his hair away from his face as she murmurs quietly.
"It's ok, you weren't alone."
Henry gapes at her comically and she sighs, letting him slide gently from her lap. Fussing with the rip in his sleeve with a sniff of disapproval, her tone is brisk and businesslike when she speaks.
"Look at the state of you. Go on, upstairs and in the shower, I want you on time for school, no excuses."
He nods, hurrying off up the stairs.
But not before he glimpses the brunette smile at him warmly as she sips at her cooling coffee.