The Previous Night….

Robin walked out of the diner shortly after the Charmings left, he had no specific destination; all he needed was a walk. He felt as if his head was about to explode; Marian was back, but he's with Regina. Regina….the woman who confided in him that she was too scared of getting hurt before, that she did not take another chance on love. The woman who just told him about the pixie dust…..the woman he just told that he would've walked through hell to be with Marian.

He did not even know where to begin to fathom the situation, let alone come up with a solution to it? How was he going to explain this to Marian? What was he going to say to Regina?

He was at a loss for words, not only to tell Regina or Marian, but to explain it to himself.

The sounds of arguing pulled him out of his thoughts, and when he took a look around, he immediately recognized his surroundings. After all, it had only been a few hours.

He was outside Regina's house, hidden behind the bushes, giving him the perfect opportunity to listen to the angry bantering. He recognized Tink's seething growls, as well as Emma's defensive squeaks.

"She cried herself to sleep, as she desperately clung to him," Tink's angry voice reached his ears, and he closed his eyes in pain.

He had never wanted to hurt Regina. Hell, he had promised himself, and her, that he never will. He hated seeing her in pain, or upset, let alone crying. But alas, it seemed that fate had a cruel sense of humor, especially where Regina was involved, and had decided to throw her yet another curve ball.

He was still trying to decide whether it was a good idea to show his face to Tink-who was, at the moment, more dangerous than Regina was at the height of her reign-when he heard approaching footsteps.

One day, when he looks back on tonight, he will call his reaction good judgment, but at the moment, he attributed it to instinct. He ducked behind the bushes, and out of sight, watching as the Charmings followed their angry daughter, as they headed to their cars. He waited a few more seconds till the fairy's angry stomps reached his ears, and he saw her walk away from the great white building, as she shook her head sadly.

He idled for a few more mintues, though he was not sure of the reason himself. Was he waiting to see Regina? Tink just said that she cried herself to sleep, so there was no way she would be moving around. But he had to see her….he needed to see her.

And so, seeing as old habits die hard, he made sure that no one was around, before he snuck into the garden. He stood in the middle of the footpath, trying to think of the best way to go about this. Should he look for an open window? Should he try one of the doors leading to the garden? The back door?

Then suddenly, an idea came to him. If Regina cried herself to sleep, as she clung to Henry; and Tink just told Emma that Henry was asleep in her arms as well, not to mention that Tink let herself out; then the front door should be unlocked. And so, with that conclusion in mind, he walked up to the front door, careful not to let his footsteps echo through the eerily quiet night.

He stood on the porch, staring at the knob. Should he do this? Should he sneak into her house like it was any of the many castles he raided back in the Enchanted Forest? Has it come down to this?

The pain in his chest; the sadness in her eyes as she told him about Daniel; the anger in Henry's voice, and that in Tink's voice from mere mintues ago, all served as motives for his actions. He won't wake her, he won't even leave any trace that he had been there; he just had to see her for himself.

He slowly reached for the knob, took a shaky breath to calm his shaky nerves, before he turned it, praying to the Gods above that his conclusion will be correct. He sighed in relief when it turned, and he pushed the door open.

The house was deathly quiet, an overwhelming gloom filled its rooms, almost as if the ghost of despair roamed it room by room. The glow of the dying fire in the living room only served to add to the hauntings of the surroundings, a striking contrast to the warmth it added to that same room mere hours ago.

He listened for any sounds, anything that indicates that his presence was detected by Henry, or worse, by Regina. But when the graveyard silence remained the same, he ventured for the stairs. Taking care with each step not to make a sound, his experienced ears listening for the faintest sounds coming from the direction of the master bedroom, or any other room for that matter.

The walk up the stairs was completely different from the one that morning, he wasn't excited about what he will find in the room, he was not looking forward to seeing Regina, his heart was not swelling with affection, but rather heavy with dread and sadness.

The door was only pulled half way, and he could see mother and son wrapped in each other's arms. And judging by the lack of movement from Henry, the boy had fallen asleep as well.

The closer he got to the room, the more details he could make out; the distraught look on Regina's face, the tear tracks on her cheek, how tight her arms were around Henry, the occasional whimpers that escaped her lips, the slight frown on her forehead. His heart leaped in his throat, his gut wrenching at the sight of a once again broken queen.

He hated that all the pain she felt was at his hands; he had seen that broken expression on her face in the Enchanted Forest, when she was about to put herself under a sleeping curse. He had begged her to reconsider, to find another reason to live, to not give up hope. He didn't know why he had been so desperate to stop her crazy quest, but now he knew. The mere thought of her getting hurt pained him, the look of absolute desolation was gut wrenching.

And now, now that he's seen her smile; heard her laugh; seen life, happiness and hope creep back into her eyes; it hurt even more to see her so broken. Even more, that it was at his hands.

He stood for a few moments, looking at the woman who was wrapped in his arms earlier; looking at the room that witnessed their laughter; their breathless gasps of pleasure. The room that once had a healing queen, and her outlaw; now housed a broken mother, and her ever growing son.

And despite the gloomy nature of the situation, he could not help but reflect on how natural it looks, how peaceful. He couldn't help but smile, smile because despite how hurt Regina was, her arms wrapped instinctively around her son, how they adjusted to his movements.

With one last heavy sight, he turned around and headed back for the door. He had to leave, he had to leave before he loses his resolve. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her, to soothe her pain. But he did not even know where to begin; what was going to say? How was he supposed to take it away?

He tiptoed back out of the house, slumped his shoulders and walked towards the woods. The woods that housed his now living and breathing wife, the woods that housed his persistent and stubborn son. The one who would no doubt ask about Regina, and ask to see her.

He huffed out irritably at the complexity of the situation…how was he ever going to solve this?

Where we left off the previous chapter...

Regina dried the last of the pots, as she walked over to the oven to check on the food. She stowed the pot away, and put the towel where it belongs, before making her way out of the kitchen. She found that the table was already set, and she couldn't help but smile at how easily Henry settled back into his previous routine, that he did it before she even asked.

She figured that he must've gone to his room after he was done, so she made her way towards the stairs.

"Henry," she called softly as she climbed the stairs.

"In here," she heard him yell from the first floor, and if her ears aren't deceiving her, he was in her study.

She walked back down the few steps that she climbed, and headed for her study, wondering what in the world could her son be doing inside.

She pushed the slightly ajar door open, and peered inside. She found him sitting on the floor, his legs crossed in front of him, with a small box, one that she knew all too well, open in front of him, with half its contents scattered around him on the floor.

It was a box of his things that she had gathered through the years; she had started it when she first brought him home, and kept adding to it. She saved the onesie he was wearing when she first brought him home; the blanket he was wrapped in; the first pair of shoes she ever bought him….etc. but her most prized possession was a baby book that she had started the first day she brought him home; starting with his birth certificate. It had pictured of the two of them together; of him alone, standing on his own for the first time, his first steps, and many more memories that she cherished.

She found him sitting with the blanket and baby book on his lap, as he looked through the pictures in the book. He looked up from the book, and found her standing in the doorway, smiling softly at him.

"How did you find this?" she asked curiously, as she made her way over to him, and sat down facing him.

"I was taking a bit of a walk down memory lane in the house, when I decided to look for my baby albums. I haven't looked at them in a while, and I missed some of the pictures in them, so I came here to look for them, but found the box instead," he explained, "how come you never told me about it?" it was now his turn to ask.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," she replied softly.

"Well, it was," he chuckled, and she laughed softly as well, "I can't believe you kept this," he added, waving around a stuffed seal that he was inseparable with when he was a toddler.

Regina grinned at him, her face softening a bit when her eyes landed on the washed up toy, "how could I not? You couldn't live without that thing! I took it with me everywhere, cause God forbid it left your side for a fraction of a second," she reminisced, "I used to wash it every day after you fell asleep, it would have stains of food, drool and God only knows what," she recounted, smiling at the rueful grin on his face.

"In that case, you must've gone to the washer once or twice yourself," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

The throaty laugh that escaped Regina, was one Henry hadn't heard in a very long time.

"During the first year, I think I used to shower every time you dozed off," she quipped, "not to mention that you ruined half my wardrobe," she added playfully.

"No one told you to wear expensive things when you're caring for an infant," he retorted cheekily.

"It was worth it," she said softly.

"Can I ask you something?" he inquired, and she nodded.

"Why did you adopt me?" he asked, and she cocked her head in confusion, "I mean, why did you think about adopting a kid?" he elaborated.

"I always dreamed of having a child," she said, "I gave up on it when I became the Evil Queen, I mean what kind of a mother would I have made? But when I came here, I was miserable. Separating Snow and David was not enough, I still felt empty. And so I thought that I'd give it a try. I mean, this curse was supposed to be my second chance at a happy ending. So why not try," she explained.

"How come you didn't have a child when you were married to the King?" he asked, and she averted her gaze.

Henry immediately knew that something was up with his mother, he saw how her entire body went stiff at his question, and he could almost hear the gears clicking in her head as she thought about what to tell him. He abandoned the baby book that he was looking through, and moved closer to her.

He took a hold of her hand, and watched her shoulders slump under a weight that she had been carrying for a while.

Regina didn't know what to tell her son, should she tell him the truth? Or should she change the subject? She wasn't going to lie to him again, not after he was finally looking at her with so much love, and trust.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly, as she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She sighed deeply, before she blurted out the answer, "the King didn't want me to."

The simplicity of the answer shocked Henry, and the implication behind it had him staring at her, unable to articulate a coherent word, let alone form a sentence.

"What?" he finally found his voice, and that was the only word he could think of.

All Regina could do was smile sadly at him, she felt the tears pooling into her eyes, and she willed them not to fall.

"Why?" he finally whispered in horror. He had been racking his brain for a reason why his great grandfather would not want to have more children, especially with a woman whom he claimed fit to raise his daughter; but for the life of him, he couldn't come up with a single one.

"Just in case it was a boy," Regina mumbled tearfully, and Henry looked even more confused now.

"If I had a boy, by law, he will be the heir to the throne," she elaborated, and saw a hesitancy in his eyes that she knew all too well. It was a natural reaction to knowing something bad about a person you thought was good, she knew he understood what she didn't say, but his young mind was still having some issues actually believing it.

"And he didn't want your child to be the ruler," he finished her sentence in horror, and she looked down at the floor once more, pleading with her tears not to fall, but they seemed to have a mind of their own.

Henry watched her bow her head in sadness, and watched as she closed her eyes in a futile attempt to stop her tears from falling. Up till now, he did not know his mother's whole story, but right now, he knew this much; between Cora and the King, he could not blame her for turning evil, nor could he blame her for holding on to him as hard as she did. He was the last person, no, the only, person she had in her life. He was her son, the one she raised and took care of for ten years, and she was losing him. How was she supposed to react? Happily let him slip away? Was she supposed to hand him off to Emma herself? She ventured a risk with him, took him in, opened her heart to him and loved him, and how did he repay her? By turning his back on her when it mattered the most. He never gave her a second chance, a second glance, or even a thought. When Emma told him she killed Archie, a voice within him told him it wasn't true, but he ignored it, and didn't even try to stick up for her.

"Why did you wait for eighteen years to get a child when you got here then?" he wondered. If she always wanted children, then she should've tried to get her hands on one the second she came here.

He saw her lips tremble, as she took in shuddered breaths. He knew that she was thinking about her answer, fully knowing that she probably wants to find a simpler, or a less harsh answer. If the answer was something easy, she would've said it by now.

He inched closer to her, and used one hand to cup her chin and lifted her head up. His green eyes looked into her sorrowful brown ones, and his heart broke. He saw her love, her need to protect him from the big bad world, from her dark past; but also the need to let go of a tremendous burden that has been there for a very long time.

"Mom, why didn't you adopt a child as soon as you came here?" he asked once more, this time a little bit more confidently. He wanted to show her that she can count on him, that she can trust him with a secret, and that he won't divulge it, that he won't judge her for it.

"Because I didn't think I could be a good mother," she choked out, and his mouth dropped open.

"What made you think that?" he wondered, almost squeaked.

"I didn't have the most affectionate mother, and the King constantly criticized how I did things with Snow; I didn't think I could be a mother, let alone a good one," she ranted, then realizing what she was telling her twelve year old, she shook her chin out of his grasp, and avoided her gaze once more.

"No, Mom," Henry called pleadingly, "don't," he added, once she looked at him.

She smiled tearfully at him, before she moved closer to him and pulled him into her arms. He gladly welcomed, and reciprocated the hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, and rested his head on her chest, as she rested her own on top. He knew she didn't do this to change the subject, but that she need the support as she talks.

"I thought this curse will be my second chance at a good life, I thought that separating Snow and David will be enough, that I will be happy again, but I was wrong. It got lonely pretty fast, and soon enough, I started dreaming of children again. I've always wanted one, and the more I tried to quench the need, the more it rose. I spoke with Archie about not being happy, and he asked me when was the last time I felt happy? And I told him that it was when there was a child around. He suggested that maybe it is what I need. And for the first time in a very long time, I thought why not?" she recounted, "however, I do believe that I was meant to wait that long, so that I would have you," she finished adoringly, as she placed a soft kiss on the top of his head.

"I'm glad you did," he mumbled against her chest, and tightened his arms when he felt her smile.

They sat like that for a few moments, enjoying each other's company, and the warmth provided by their embrace. He missed her terribly, and he missed the times when he would stay like this for hours. And judging by the few content sighs she released, she missed it more than he could ever imagine.

With a final content sigh, Regina decided to break the silence, "do you want to talk about what happened at Snow's apartment?" she asked softly.

Henry stiffened slightly at his mother's question, and only relaxed when she rubbed his back soothingly, "Henry?" she called lovingly once more.

All Henry could do was shake his head, he knew he had to talk to her about it, at least tell her what happened in a nutshell, but right now he didn't feel like it. He didn't want to remember what they said, because it enraged him just to think about it.

She kissed him on the head once more, as she rubbed his back, "that's alright, whenever you're ready," she cooed, "why don't you go wash up? The lasagna should be done by now," she suggested, loosening her arms a bit when she felt him pull back. She couldn't help but chuckle at the wide grin he was giving her, "you made lasagna?" he asked, and she nodded.

"God, I missed it," he exclaimed happily, as he leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek, "thanks."

"You are more than welcome baby," she said in adoration.

And with one final squeeze and a kiss, Henry got up from the floor, and offered his hand to help her up. Once they were both on their feet, she draped her arm over his shoulder, and guided him over to the kitchen.

No sooner did they leave her study, the door bell sounded through the mansion, making both of them frown.

"Why don't you go switch off the oven and I'll see who's at the door?" she suggested, and he nodded.

She watched him walk into the kitchen, before she made her way to the door. She was afraid that it will be the Charmings, coming to claim Henry, and she wanted him out of their sight for as long as possible.

She walked briskly down the steps, prolonging the inevitable moment of opening the door. Shook her head to clear her thoughts, and with one last deep sigh, she pulled the door open.

The sharp gasp that was meant to leave her lips, caught in her throat, and whatever sound left them instead was drowned by Henry's angry growl, "you!"

MUHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA! Who could it be?! *Evil Grin*

Anyways, thank you all for reading and reviewing.

I will re-read this tomorrow for any spelling mistakes, so excuse them for now :)

You know what makes me happy, so keep'em coming people