The Jolly Roger rocked on the water as the ship sailed towards Neverland and Henry. The crew had survived the passage through the portal and weathered the mermaid's storm. Though the island was in sight, there were still a few hours between them and the shore.
"Why don't you lot go below deck and rest up," Hook said. His eyes fixing longer on Emma than the rest of the group. Her head ached from its encounter with the broken pully.
"We can take it in shifts," David said. "You three take the first one." Looking from woman to woman, David could feel the irritation from their gazes stab at his skin.
"Fine," he continued. "If none of you are tired, I'll gladly go. I just didn't think any of you would appreciate my snoring." Rolling her eyes, Regina was the first to turn and head towards the stairs. Emma followed while Snow took a step towards her husband.
"You walk a fine line between chivalry and sexism, Charming. A fine line," she said and then kissed him on the cheek.
"Three hours," Hook called after the last woman as she made for the stairs. "That's all we can give you. It'll be around midday when we reach the reef. It'll be all hands on deck break those waves."
The three women reclined in the captain's quarter of the ship in silence. Emma, though she refused at first, was allowed the only bed on the ship.
"Only one of us had a near-death experience today," Regina had said. "That makes you eligible for the bed. So lie down and shut up." Snow couldn't help but smirk. If it had been not twenty-four hours prior, Regina would be the one getting the bed. However, unspoken rules were still rules.
The once Evil Queen and Princess made makeshift beds out of stray pillows and extra coats found in the cabinets around the room. Snow set up camp next to the bed while Regina curled up in the corner at the other end of the room. Facing the wall, she hugged the blanket of Henry's she'd brought from home. None said it aloud, but not a single one of them was able to rest easy. Regina's head spun with images of the terror Greg and Tamara could be inflicting on her son. Emma's head filled with the same thoughts but intermixed with thoughts of Neal. Snow did everything she could to keep the darkness of fear and worry from clouding her mind. They pretended to sleep for nearly an hour before a voice broke through the suffocating quiet.
"This resting thing isn't going to work," Snow said.
"No kidding," Emma responded. "I could kill for some Aspirin right about now." With a subtle flick of Regina's wrist, a bottle appeared in Emma's hand.
"Oh, right," Emma said with a hint of humor. "Magic."
"I'm sorry I hit you," Snow said to Regina. Turning over to face the mother-daughter pair, Regina gave up all hope of getting any rest.
"It's fine. I've had worse. You could take a lesson or two from Miss Swan. She hits quite a bit harder than you do." Sarcasm mixed with a lighthearted jab to create a tone only a political figure could perfect.
More silence engulfed the room like a thick fog. The three women had barely held a civil conversation together in Storybrooke. How were they supposed to do it now? Henry was the key…
"Regina, I think it was really nice of you to bring that blanket of Henry's," Snow began. "I noticed he has trouble sleeping at the loft sometimes. I assume that blanket is the reason why."
"I just thought he would like something from his room for the journey home." Pausing for a moment, Regina's voice softened. "He has trouble sleeping?"
"He says the blankets are too thin or too thick," Emma scoffed. "We even had to buy the same detergent as you because the blankets didn't smell right."
The three women broke into smiles. Regina couldn't help but chuckle as she remembered memories of small Henry.
"When he was small, maybe four or five, I bought the wrong kind of detergent and he threw the biggest tantrum I'd ever seen. Screaming, crying, kicking, everything!"
Laughter filled the room.
"I know just where that comes from," added Snow. "And his name is David!" While Emma and Snow continued with their giggles, Regina found herself quiet.
"Oh Regina, I'm so sorry. I wasn't even thinking. I - "
"No, it's fine," the dark-eyed woman interjected. "Genetics don't lie." Tension became palpable in the room. A decision was to be made and only the Mayor of Storybrooke could make it. She could be willing to admit that her son did not just belong to her anymore or she could block out the truth.
"He's quite a bit more like your family than you may realize."
"You think so?" Emma asked. She couldn't help but see the similarities between Neal and Henry. The way their eyes sparkled the same at certain times or the way they both laughed at the same dumb jokes. Most of all, though, Henry knew the importance of people and loving them. Henry and Neal were identical when it came to that unteachable quality. She'd never thought to look for similarities when it came to her parents, though.
"Disregarding the similar taste in diner foods, very much so. For one, I've never been able to run a lie past him for long. Even from a young age, he always knew something was up." Regina's memories of Henry's childhood were colorful and vibrant. They seemed to glow through her whenever she spoke of them.
"You know, it's strange," Snow said. "I have memories of Henry at every age, but they all feel like they happened at once. I can't separate them."
"You were cursed," Regina explained. "You lived the same day over and over. Henry didn't, though. He grew and aged and lived a normal life." Nodding with some sense of understanding, Snow worked hard to comprehend her cursed life. Emma's thoughts were somewhere else.
"Regina?" she asked. "What was he like as a baby?"
"Oh, you know how babies are," the woman responded. She was met with two blank stares. Neither the sheriff nor the princess knew what it was like to live with a baby or raise one.
"Oh…uh… well." Clearing her throat, Regina searched her memories of her son and began.
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