Homeless 5: Meeting Henry -

Homeless OQPromptParty - Roland, Robin and Regina visit Henry's grave -

She thought walking towards the cemetery was terrifying. Having to actually focus on putting one foot in front of the other lest her heart leap from its cage and take off at a sprint in the other direction. Flight or Fight, the instinctual response of the body to panic in fear, to either stand and face it or hightail it the other way.

And Regina is all flight inside. Or at least she was until the adorable calvary arrived.

Coming here for the first time - walking through the iron gates whilst hanging onto the hand of a four year old and his father, it was one of the scariest moments of her life. The way her heart pounded in her ears, throat running dry, knees wobbly and weakened at the mere thought of being brave enough to be here, that was fear. Even sitting outside the cemetery had her panic-stricken. But she had done it. Looked the fear in the face, though without making eye contact, she's not that brave, and fought back against every firing nerve telling her to flee.

But it is nothing compared to closing the distance to those two headstones on top of the hillside. The closer they get, the smaller she feels and the more petrified she becomes. It has her heart skipping every third beat, the air getting hotter and harder to breathe in, and she would run, but Roland is holding her hand. A palm that is sweat slickened and trembling though she grips onto him, tiny as he may be, she holds onto a four year old boy for strength because he doesn't feel the same dreading anxiety she does, he doesn't know the fearful apprehension gripping her with every step. He's pure and innocent and holding her hand.

He's babbling about him and his papa going to play in the park later today, and then they'll go for ice cream, and feed the ducks in the pond because it's what his momma liked to do. Regina finds herself nodding absently, unable to really focus on anything else but the fact that they are not even fifty yards away now. She is so close to them. Roland asks her what her favorite flavour is and she mumbles Rocky Road, but it's a lie, that was Henry's favorite. He wasn't allowed to have it in the hospital, the sugar content too high, his dying body unable to break down the dairy proteins, it just made him sick, or sicker. She hasn't actually eaten ice cream since Henry died. Hasn't even had the slightest craving for it, even when years ago it was a regular Sunday tradition for her family.

She can feel the burning of tears when Roland asks if she will come for ice cream with them later. A sting so hot her eyes clamp shut, and her feet stop moving. Roland tugs her arm softly, unaware she's stopped walking. A quiet, "Regina?" is whispered curiously, sweet and concerned, but if she opens her lips to answer she will no doubt break down and cry, which would probably scare Roland and that is the last thing she wants. Her heart pangs in her chest, jumping from the pit of her stomach into her throat, pounds in her ears as the images of Daniel and Henry begin to swim around her.

This should have been them with her, talking about ice cream and holding her hand on an afternoon walk. She was supposed to have this, have a family, her husband alive and running a hand along her back like Robin is right now. She is supposed to have her son here with her, with dark hazel eyes, dotted freckles along his cheeks, a smile so bright it could rival the sun. That's what she is supposed to have. Not this. Not being frozen to the concrete in fear of seeing their names etched into stone.

A hard, sharp inhale hits her lungs. Henry would be wearing his Spider-Man costume still; underneath all that dirt and grass is her little superhero, sleeping soundly beside his father in matching uniforms though no one aside from her knows it.

They are there. Underneath her, or if she'd take the last twenty steps they would be. How is she supposed to stand? On them? Above them? In front of them? It feels wrong. They were everything, a warm light every morning, hugging her tight. She can't do it. Be here. See them. She just - she needs to go.

The moment she turns to run, Robin's voice catches her. A strong arm wrapping around her waist as her back turns away from her family. He holds her, securely enough that she won't fall nor tear off in escape, but giving her space to breathe.

Minutes of time pass where her tears flood down her cheeks, and her knees shake beneath her. She hears Robin whisper something to his boy, a resounding, "Okay, Papa," in answer before his free hand smoothes over the expanse of her back, and she feels his chest press against her shoulder, chin on top of her head, and releases a heavy exhale.

Her pulse pounds away in her ears, thumping hard and heavy behind her eyes. It's been over three years since Henry died, since she lost everything and everyone, and the shame washes hotly over her. Not once has she come to visit her family. What kind of mother doesn't come to see her baby boy? It's a flare of guilt that pulses low in her gut, swirls and crawls its way up her throat.

"It's okay, Regina. You're okay."

The world tilts and wobbles as she shakes her head, because she isn't okay, none of this is fine. It's horrible, riddled with pain and disgrace at the person she's become. Daniel wouldn't be proud of who she is, Henry would lose all faith in his mother if they knew how low she'd sunk.

"Do you want to leave?" Robin's warm breath ghosts around her cheek, "You can come back another day. It doesn't have to be right now." He's smiling, something sad and remorse-filled when her eyes finally blink out the tears that blur her vision. She stares at his lips, feeling ashamed that she can't even face seeing her own family and yet he is here, sliding a soft palm up and down her bicep, telling her it's okay to leave - or leave for now. She has to come back. Which means she'd have to come back alone because there is no way she is going to beg Robin to come with her again. They don't even know one another, at least not well enough for a favour like this.

Sniffling hard, Regina wipes away the wetness on her cheeks with the back of her hand, sighing and letting her forehead drop into his shoulder for a moment. "I have to," she mumbles against the dark cloth of his coat, "I have to stay."

"Alright. One step at a time, right?"

He ducks down, meeting her eyes as she tilts up. "I'm right here with you. I promise." It's his smile that has her nodding, feeling no less fraudulent as a mother and wife, but at least there is some sort of security in having him here, an odd sense of courage Robin lends her silently. Linking their fingers together, she turns, fixing her gaze on the headstones in front of them, exhaling a thick breath, and takes the first step.

The tears fall of their own volition with every fraction of space closed, and Robin has already seen her cry - more than anything else really - so she figures there is no point in hiding it now, just focuses on trying to keep her breath going, in and out, as smooth as possible. It takes no less than twenty steps before she is standing in front of their names, the sun warming the stones. Careful not to step on top of either of them, Regina slides herself between, settling down on her backside in the middle of the two headstones, uncaring at the slight scratch of stone against her temple as she leans into Henry.

"Hi, baby."

Robin turns, letting her have a moment alone, smiling softly as his boy comes running up the path, treasures in tow.

He understands loss, the blinding pain that hits first, a vast dark emptiness that follows. Nothing feels fair, there is an anger that swirls beneath the surface - one that nearly ate him alive when Marian died. But he had Roland, or rather had friends and family that threatened to take him away if Robin didn't let the whiskey go. He had to choose. His son or the drunken stupor he'd been drowning himself in for months.

What pierces him the most about this entire situation is that she lost her child, too, and he cannot fathom the hole in someone's heart that would leave behind.

He wants to kick himself for not trying to help her sooner. For walking past her everyday for three years with only two dollars exchanged between them. If he'd known...well there isn't much point in wondering about the past what if's anymore, but he will make sure the future ones are something he can control, decisions that will make her smile.

Scooping Roland up, he sways his boy back and forth, pressing a kiss to his curls, as his eyes lift to Regina, squarely seated between her family. She's talking quietly, murmuring something he can't hear, nor does he feel entitled to. This is for her, a step towards healing. Instead, he walks to the side, setting Roland down, and unleashing a blanket from his knapsack. Roland is quick to settle beside him, tugging out his crayons and a few pieces of paper, content enough to laze in the grass for a while with his dad.

She wishes she could hear his voice, feel some part of him touching her, see his chubby-cheeked front teeth-missing smile beaming up at her. It's just silent, and silence means there is no one to talk but her. Even if they don't answer, she hopes they can hear her.

"I'm sorry I haven't come to see you." The lump grows thick in her throat. "I've missed you both." Her eyes burn as she lifts her face to the sky, closing her lids and trying to escape the feeling of drowning.

She thumbs along the ridge of Daniel's stone, dejection riddling through her, "I'm sorry I wasn't a better mother to our son."

He'd have done more, found another doctor, some sort of drug trial they could have tried, he would have saved him. It's not that Regina didn't try. They'd gone through three pediatric doctors, two surgeons and more insurance meetings than she could count. It just wasn't enough. Money was running out, and Henry's time fading even faster than she could keep up with.

"You could have saved him. I know you could have. I just - I didn't know what to do anymore, and you weren't there." She scowls at the tears puddling on her shirt. "I had to do it all alone. Watch our son come closer and closer to death everyday, by myself."

"I know you'd be upset with me." - He wouldn't, he never really was. - "That I gave up." - She didn't, the doctors just said there was nothing else they could do for Henry. - "I'm sorry, Daniel, I wish you were here instead of me. I wish I never told you to get on that plane."

The memory of seeing it on the news will haunt her forever. January 9th, eleven twenty-two in the morning. She'd been chopping up strawberries for Henry's lunch, munching on a few herself. It had been weeks since they could indulge in the fruit, Daniel was allergic, so it was like a special dessert that she and Henry could have when he was gone. It was just a weekend trip. Gone Thursday back by Sunday night type thing.

A friend from high school was getting married, Daniel was invited to the bachelor party and whilst he said he had little interest in getting slammed on tequila and going to the strippers, Regina insisted he go - let loose for a weekend with his friends; she didn't care so long as he had a good time and brought her back something. He'd kissed her cheek that morning, nuzzled into her neck affectionately, saying he was a lucky man having her, and promised he'd call as soon as they landed safely.

Which had never happened. She'd been chopping up fruit, the news mindlessly buzzing in the background until it cut sharply to the scene of a horrific accident, a plane had gone down over Yosemite National Park, a blazing inferno smoking into the sky, plane parts strewn about a five mile radius. Time had frozen as she stared at the screen. United 614 - engine failure - total wreckage - bodies scattered - no survivors found - police investigating - no survivors found - Plane headed from Portland to Las Vegas - no survivors found - all presumed dead.

Daniel never phoned.

Running a hand over her face, she sighs, pictures his perfect face, slight sharp features, grey hazel eyes, gentle smile. He would have known what to do for Henry. It was as simple as that in her mind. "I lost everything, Daniel. All of it. Henry, our house, my job, everything." She whimpers to herself, crestfallen in self anguish. "You'd be so embarrassed of who I am today." Turning from him, unable to picture his eyes saddening at the state she's put herself in, Regina blows out a hard, wet breath, grimacing at her son's name.

"Oh, Henry. There isn't enough in this world I wouldn't give to have you back." She sighs, "You are everything to me and I am sorry I haven't come to see you sooner. We both know you were always braver than I was." She thinks of his Spider-Man costume, the one she buried him in because she told him quietly one night before he died the angels would need a superhero, and there were none as brave as he was.

"I remember the day you were born, you were so tiny and pink, wailing like a little bird. I fell in love with you harder than I had anyone in my entire life. I never thought that I could be someone's mother. That I'd be good enough, but you were so kind right from the start, so giving and full of love even if you could barely open your eyes. You gave me the chance to be a mom and I feel like I failed."

She swallows hard, biting down on her lip as the tears blur her vision, "Losing you was like losing my breath and never being able to catch it again."

"I know I should have been here. I just was afraid. I got lost without you, and I let everything slip away." She fiddles with the hem of her coat, one that is a bit too big in the shoulders but it's all the women's shelter had to offer before her interview tomorrow. "I'm trying to figure everything out, but there is this hole in my heart that I don't know how to fill."

Tears fall in a flurry, splotching down her cheeks as she curls into herself against his headstone.

"I miss you so much."

Robin can hear her, barely able to pull in a breath as she cries, and for all the reasons to not intrude on this moment for her, the anguish that radiates from her body leaves him incapable of simply pretending she isn't there. He stands, grins at his boy whose brow is creased, tongue poking out in concentration over his drawing, and moves to sit beside Regina, or rather behind her, his shoulders leaning against the back of Daniel's stone. He reaches for her calf, squeezes gently and lets his palm linger on the denim. Simple reassurances, that's really all he can give her right now. Enough to let her know she isn't alone.

Sparrows flit overhead, whistling away between oak branches, the sun warm against his temple as he turns to find Regina sniffing and wiping away her tears with a sad dismal smile sent his way.

"When Marian died, I didn't come here for nearly eight months."

His confession catches Regina off guard, her bewilderment written clearly across her face as he shrugs, running his hand along her shin for a moment. "I was wrecked when the cancer finally took her, and instead of being a proper father for my son, I decided that whiskey was a better choice." She can see the flash of embarrassment cross his face, the slight self disgrace he still holds.

"I was so angry with her for leaving me, with the world for taking her, I just decided to tell it to fuck off for a while, and I drank. Morning till night, thinking in some way it would help fill the void she'd left behind. It went on for almost six months." His brow cinches as he swallows thickly, "My parents, they took Roland one night while I was out on a bender, said they wouldn't be giving him back until I smartened up. Which only ended up with me tossing back another half bottle and finding myself the next morning in a jail cell with a bloody miserable hangover and no son to go home to."

His eyes creep over to find Roland still nose deep in his colouring, and he should probably call his folks again soon to give them his eternal appreciation for the hundredth time that they didn't give up on him. "By the time I had gotten sober and they'd decided I was fit to be his father once more, it had been over eight months since Marian died and I hadn't once come to visit her. Probably more out of my own guilt as to who I'd become in the past year, and I was terrified of facing her."

"I'm sure she'd understand." Regina breathes out shakily, meeting Robin's gaze for the first time, "You lost her and losing someone you love can make people go crazy."

He nods, blinking back his own guilt, "I think it would be the same for Daniel and Henry."

He sees her body tense, stilling in the grass as she shakes her head dismally, "I have a hard time believing they would forgive me."

"Why? Were they unkind?"

"No! God, no." She sniffs hard.

"Did they hold grudges?"

"Never."

"They loved you and you them."

It's not a question, she knows that, but the mumbled out, "Yes," escapes her anyway as Robin smiles tightly.

"Then they would find nothing to forgive you for, Regina. Like you said, loss of a loved one, especially a child no less, it's a miracle you're even still here." He's looking at her as though he is seeing colour for the first time and yet completely baffled about the new pigmentation around her. "I know right now it's hard to be here, and trust me, it never really gets any easier, but perhaps less painful. I've never really believed in the time heals all wounds thing, but I think time allows you to process and understand that what happened isn't your fault."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I do." Robin nods, flicking his gaze over to his son, "I have to believe in the possibility that hope still resides in life for me."

Lamenting on his words for a moment, her heart squeezes tightly, "What do you hope for?"

"That my son is happy, that I am being a good father."

"I think you're doing a fine job with him already."

"I appreciate that. But there is an entire life ahead of both of us, milestones to achieve, and I worry everyday about not being enough for him. I want to be the kind of dad that has the answers, the kind that Roland won't be afraid to come to with the hard stuff down the road."

"Robin, you are a good father and Roland is amazing. The two of you will be just fine."

He smiles a quiet thank you between them, his eyes dropping from hers, his voice low enough Regina can barely hear him muffle out rather shyly, "I guess I hope for love someday still. That there is a second chance for me."

She hums at that, can't really even fathom the thought of a second chance, not when everything in her life is in such shambles. "I'm not sure that's possible for me."

"To be happy again?" Robin frowns, reaching for her hand as another couple of tears fall from her eyes. "Regina, I know it doesn't seem possible right now," he leans in to thumb away the wetness on her cheeks, "but there is always hope, a chance for happiness to find you again."

She sniffs hard, shaking her head sadly, and leaning into his palm, "How can you be so certain?"

"Because I have faith in it." He smiles softly, something so genuine it reaches his eyes and stills Regina's heart for a moment.

She chuckles wetly, "Do you run a hope commision or something?"

He laughs mutedly at that, lets his hand slide from her face and down to link into her fingers in her lap. "I have hope that Marian would want Roland and me to find happiness again. And I think that Daniel and Henry would want that for you as well. I know it's hard, but you have made great strides, no path is easy."

It jogs her memory that she has that interview tomorrow. One she has barely spent any time preparing for today. Odds are they aren't going to hire a woman who's been homeless for the past three years, circumstances aside. Her losing everything only proves that she can't keep it together, at least in her mind. It's a long shot.

Roland has taken their moment of quiet to saddle up beside Regina, a piece of paper in his hand he triumphantly stows into Regina's lap. He juts his chin out to her son's headstone quizzically, flicking his gaze between her and his father in silent question. Her hand wraps around his belly, securing him tight as she shifts in the grass, squaring herself to Henry's name.

Stealing her nerves, she bends down into Roland's curls, leaning her chin to the top of his head, "Roland, I'd like you to meet my son, Henry."

"Hi, Henry!" He bubbles happily, "I'm four!"

Regina smiles though a shard of pain slices through her. She remembers Henry at that age. All adventurous and full of life. "Henry is six." She comments quietly, reaching her hand out to trace the letters engraved in the marble. "You would have liked him."

"I like him already!" Roland babbles, scrambling from Regina's lap and reaching behind her to search blindly through his backpack. "Look, we can play with my race car." He throws his hand up excitedly, rolling the tiny toy across the grass and over to the base of the headstone. "It's really cool and can go super fast." She feels the onslaught hit her once more, a fresh batch of tears spilling over as she watches Roland race around Henry's name, making his best race car noise, screeching over humps, and roaring through tall grass.

Feeling Robin slide up beside her, it's unconscious that she leans back into his chest, but he doesn't seem to mind, just lands a hand on her thigh and rests his head against hers. It marks her as odd, how comfortable she is with him. A man she's only been having actual conversations with for a single day. Three years of eye contact sure, but this is different. It feels like a soothing balm almost, sitting with him and his son. And for a half moment she swears she can feel Daniel's hand finding her own, squeezing tight as the weight of her baby boy climbs into her lap. They are here. Even if she can't hear them, or see them, she knows they are here.

"Oh, Regina, I drew you a picture." Roland abandons his toy and stampedes over to his pack once more, digging deep before returning with a half crumpled sheet of paper, and if she thought she'd cried enough for one day, this might just set a new record as she stares down at the messy drawing of three people standing under a tall tree, hand in hand with massive smiles. "It's you, me, and papa!" He squishes his way into Regina's arms, pointing out himself on the paper between her and his dad. "And we can leave it here for Henry so he knows that you have friends."

Behind her she hears Robin's breath catch, his hand tightening on hers around Roland's stomach. How he can even fathom he isn't raising a perfect little boy Regina has no idea, because it's clear as day, as the colours on this piece of paper, and the smiles drawn widely, Roland is pure to the core, just like her Henry had been.

"I love it. Thank you." She presses a hard kiss into his cheek, smiling at the way he's wiggling back into her with a deep dimpled grin.

"Could we go get ice cream now?" His big brown eyes peer up at hers, and she was always a sucker for puppy dog eyes, Henry had a great pair of them. Smiling, she wipes the last few tears away and nods, her heart thumping happily at his triumphant shout. They stand, Robin helping Regina up as she folds the drawing in her hand, finds a rock and places Roland's picture underneath, sandwiched between Henry and Daniel in the grass.

She lets her palm linger on their headstones, silently promising she will do better, that she will be back to see them again. Soon. Tomorrow in fact. She promises it before finding Roland's awaiting hand and starting off down the path, leaving Robin behind for a moment. She turns, cocking a curious brow at the pensive expression drawn across his brow.

"I'll keep her safe. You have my word." His hand slides across Daniel's name.

He quietly nods his head at her family, smiling as he joins Regina and Roland. "Ice cream then?" He walks beside them, feeling a bit lighter as they pass Marian's headstone, all three waving goodbye for now as they go, hitting the iron gates of the cemetery.

"Thank you."

He grins at the quiet sentiment Regina whispers out. "You are more than welcome, M'lady."

"I never would have done that if you and Roland weren't here."

"While it was my pleasure, I think you are stronger than you believe." He squeezes her hand thoughtfully, his heart pumping hard at the blush that rises in her cheeks.

"I have a job interview tomorrow."

"Oh? With who?"

She scowls, toys with her hair shyly, "It's a law firm, but I don't think I'll get it."

"And why's that?"

"Well," Regina shrugs dismally, "I don't have a penny to my name, and I haven't worked in three years. It's a long shot they will even want to hire me."

Robin stops them then, turns so he can face her head on, reaching to tip her fallen chin up to have her eyes meet his. "Anyone would be lucky to have you." She scoffs at that, but Robin persists, "Regina, you are without a doubt the most resilient woman I've ever met. They'd be idiots to not want you."

"I think you give me too much credit."

"And you don't give yourself enough."

Sighing, she blows a heavy breath out of her nose, glancing up to see his gaze holding steady and true, "Is this your hope commision talking again?"

Robin beams, chuckles and wraps an arm around her shoulders as they start off walking once more, "We are always open for business. How about you come for dinner and we can go over the interview?"

"You'd do that?"

The pink rises in his cheeks as he bites back a smile, "If it means I get to spend more time getting to know you, then of course."

TBC.