Numb

She feels numb and shocked as she walks (more like runs) up the stairs to her porch. Jefferson has long ago grilled her right on the stop, in front of the sheriff, before he stormed out of the building, obviously disgruntled over something she's more than certain has no foundation. But there's no point in trying to make him see, not when their kids have hurt their trust so hard. No. So instead she's here, working out over the logistics of this, and just how, how did he find enough information to find him when the last thing Regina knew about him was that he lived in the same apartment complex of August back when the former lived in Boston. But August never knew of the man, and when Emma passed away, August moved into Maine.

So, yes, she definitely has no idea of where he could be, of where Henry could be.

Gods, Henry.

The mere thought of the teenager makes her stomach twist in anxiety, in nerves, and yeah, finally she's not feeling as numb as before, betrayal and anger settling low on her belly as she slips her key into the keyhole, but before she can even think of unlocking, her door swings open, a distraught August staring straight at her as he continues talking on the phone, giving details about Henry's height, hair color, eyes color and Regina swallows hard, preparing herself for another earful. She slips in, closes the door behind her and under another moon the image in front of her would've been funny, how a man so 'cool', a man careless about meek things like personal information and belongings has turned her living room upside down, papers and pictures and his laptop all scattered across the coffee table.

He's back to yelling over the phone and just when he starts cussing, Regina decides to intervene. Quickly, she pulls the phone from his ear and hangs up.

"Hey! I was—"

"He called," she says simply, her eyes wide.

"Is he okay? Where is he? Is he hurt?"

"He's okay. But, I'm afraid I don't know of his whereabouts."

"You're not making any sense about this. He's fine but you don't know where he is? How can you even be so fucking calm right now Regina? He's been out there for three days probably without a clue of where he—"

"Oh trust me," she chuckles darkly, "he definitely knows where he is."

August just stares at her wide eyed, anger written all over his eyes as he waits for her to elaborate, motions her so exasperatedly with his hands.

"I had a talk with Henry the other day," she swallows and nods. "I realize now that it was probably a mistake, but you know how much I wanted him to trust me, so I was sincere, as sincere as I ever could be, and it may have led into this mess."

"What?"

"He asked about love."

"I'm not understanding?"

"I'm afraid Henry's gone out looking for my," she scoffs and shakes her head before continuing, "lost love as he called it."

August just eyes her, nostrils flaring and one, two, three he's exploding, asking of his whereabouts, berating her for speaking of something so serious to a boy with enough determination to rule the world, and then she's also yelling at him, reprimanding him for everytime he talked about freedom and rebellious teen years and on and off they go until they've spoken their feelings, their frustrations, their fear, their sense of failure away and they're left with the bitter taste of their words and the sting of their screams.

"Look at us, bickering like an old married couple," and Regina recognizes that as what it is, a way of August giving her an olive branch, as always, scratching the back of his head before he's leaning forward and pulling her into a hug. Just like they always do when they have disagreements. Once upon a time this was a daily occurrence between them, always brawling and screaming back and forth trying to come with the best way to raise Henry, after being thrown into being the kid's legal guardians. But the more Henry grew, the less they fought, in fact, the last time Regina remembers fighting with August was two years ago, when Regina wanted to switch schools. Yet, no matter how much they fought, they always resolved their issues in the end.

"You're crazy," she whispers on a small smile. "I'd never agree to marry you."

"Ouch," August says on a chuckle, breaking the hug almost instantly, and then he's looking at her more seriously. "I'm sorry, it's just too stressful," August sighs as he stands back and Regina nods.

"I know. I'm sorry too. It honestly wasn't my intention to—"

"I know, I know. It just, it was easier to blame you rather than my constant talk about rebellion. I mean, if we're being honest, it's probably both our fault."

Regina nods before letting out a sigh and walking towards the living room, plopping herself on the couch.

"Emma's probably laughing at us right now," he says with a sad smile.

"Definitely," Regina says with a roll of her eyes and then she shakes her head. "We need to find him."

"I agree," August say before sitting down and taking a seat next to her. "The sheriff will hardly do shit."

"Ugh don't remind me. He suggested that Jefferson put Grace on the pill."

"Was Jefferson there?"

"Hardly. I'm pretty sure he passed out for a moment," she says back, slightly amused but then she's frowning and is staring at the contents on her coffee table, staring, looking for something, something that might give her a clue. But nothing does. She had checked her credit card, had checked his debit card, and no strange transactions had been made, nothing that could point her to his whereabouts. So he hasn't used his card, his money, or hers, instead he's…

"August?" She murmurs, frowning. "Do you happen to have the information on the gift card you gave Henry for Christmas?" She asks, hopeful.

"Yeah, what do you need it for?"

But the look she gives him is enough confirmation. Back then she had been flabbergasted at the more than generous gift he had given Henry, but today, today when information on his whereabouts is unavailable, Regina couldn't be more thankful for that gift. But then, just as she's grabbing her laptop and August is looking through his phone, the familiar sound of her ringtone alerts them, and Regina freezes for moment, remembering just the seriousness of their ordeal (while trying to come up with ideas on how to ground Henry), and knowing full-well just who it was, Regina answers her phone with a rough Hello, expecting the sweet voice of Henry.

But instead, a voice she hasn't heard in more than a decade graces her ears.

"Hello Regina," the slightly accented voice begins and her breath catches in her throat, feels her heart beat beat beating faster, and then he's talking again, quickly. "I believe I have two teenagers that belong to you."

And she grasps her phone firmly.