Waking up with a start, Jefferson curses as he's pulled rudely from sleep by his own unconscious nodding. Glancing over at Gold, who lies stretched out on the sofa, he rubs at his dry lips pensively and stifles a yawn. The bed in the other room is a double, and the Sheriff is hardly one to take up much space, but the notion of sleeping beside her - drugged or not - had been completely out of the question according to Gold.

He himself shares no such gentlemanly concerns, but he is wise enough not to have pushed the idea of sleeping next to the blonde given the Dark One's air of finality over the subject.

As such, he now groans as cramps course through his sleep-stiff body. After listening to Gold's take on things, he's unsure exactly what to make of the Sheriff, and before settling down to rest - a bottle of whisky, numerous questions, and only an empty house to go back to having kept him in the company of the pawnbroker - he had looked in on her several times.

She had refused the tea presented to her, to begin with, but after Gold had threatened that if she were to continue doing so he would simply physically force her to drink it, she had silently complied. The effect of the potent leaves had been swift; dusky lashes fluttering heavily closed while tense limbs had visibly relaxed.

Since then, they've heard nothing but silence from the other room.

Sitting awake now, the hatter finds he is having a hard time corralling his thoughts. Gold's words make sense to him, of course they do, but it's hard finding himself cooped up in such close quatres with the woman prophesied to be the very key to ending his misery without taking action.

A part of him wishes he'd gotten rid of her when he'd had the chance.

I'll bet she'd have put up quite the fight, too... Pity.

He had asked the pawnbroker as they'd settled in for the night what might happen if they were to simply kill both the Saviour and the Queen. To rid themselves of Regina, and thus avoid her potential wrath for the death of the Sheriff. Gold had pondered over the thought for only a second before shaking his head.

"No... No that won't do. The Saviour owes me a favour, and I plan to keep her to her word. Death is a brilliant excuse not to do what is required of you... She lives. At least, she lives for as long as it takes to fulfil her debt to me."

Exactly. To you. But what about me? What reason do I have not to take matters into my own hands?

Jefferson grits his teeth restlessly. Cocking his head to the side, he frowns as he becomes slowly aware of a soft thumping sound from behind the wall. Throwing a quick glance towards Gold, he pushes himself up and creeps stealthily towards the bedroom.

"Henry?"

Regina speaks softly as she slips into the darkness of the boy's bedroom. Finding her way over to his bed with practised ease, she perches on the edge of his covers and runs a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

"Mom?... What's happening?"

Henry murmurs groggily.

"Were you asleep?"

"No... I don't know... I-... Did you speak to Emma?"

The boy's question is tinged with bitterness and the brunette sniffs as she shakes her head; moving lightly beneath the covers to lie alongside her son. She's surprised when he places his arms around her waist and she swiftly wraps her own around him, resting her chin on his crown.

"No. I didn't."

"Did you look for her?"

"Of course I did... Henry... I don't think Emma's missing because of your birthday... I think-... I think something's happened."

"Like what?"

Henry asks curiously, and the Mayor laments the blind innocence of youth.

"Something not very good..."

"You think Emma's in trouble?"

Curiosity swiftly evolves into something else - something grittier - and Regina wishes there was a way she could keep this all from him.

And she could.

But the boy has a right to know that the woman he brought back here with him all those months ago and has placed so much faith in hasn't run out on him once again and left him to deal with his wounded feelings alone.

And there's the other thing.

The fairytale thing.

Henry's book.

"I think that it's highly peculiar that the town's Sheriff is nowhere to be found."

She whispers glumly.

"But... Where would she have gone to? Who would try and get my mom into trouble?"

Henry asks, frowning against the soft wool of the brunette's sweater, and Regina winces as she knows the part of that sentence he has neglected to say.

Apart from myself? That's what you're wondering, isn't it, dear?

"I'm not sure yet. But I promise you something, Henry, and I need you to believe me... Whatever might have gone on between Miss Swan and myself in the past, I wish no harm to come to her... I will find out what's happened here today... I will find her."

"Do you think she'll be mad at me that I got angry she wasn't around?"

The boy murmurs uneasily, and the Mayor hugs him tighter as she assures him

"No. I don't think she'll be angry with you at all, sweetheart. I think Miss Swan understands better than most the feelings you can get when you think a parent has let you down."

She places a kiss on the crown of his head as she muses silently that it's not just the blonde who understands such hateful things. Playing soft patterns over the clean cotton of her son's pyjamas, she clears her throat and continues warily

"Henry... Can I ask you something?"

"Uhuh?"

"What does-... What does your book say about Rumplestiltskin?"

"He's a bad man..."

"As bad as the Queen?"

The boy moves in her arms slowly and peers up at her through the shadows, his eyes narrowed and his lip caught between his teeth in a way she decides must be genetic, in spite of it being a learnt mannerism.

"Mom...?"

"Can I see the book?"

She whispers, feeling Henry tense up against her immediately, and her heart beats painfully fast in her chest. Regarding blown green through the darkness, she lets out a low sigh as the boy reaches down to pull the heavy book out from beneath the bed.

"Why do you want to know about Rumplestiltskin?"

Henry asks her quietly.

"I'm curious as to how the story might be told, dear."

"... Is this to do with Emma?"

"Your book?"

"... Has Mr Gold tried to hurt my mom?"

Henry asks timidly, swallowing at the hidden magnitude of the question, and the fact that dark coals meet his own without the slightest hint of confusion.

"I don't know yet, Henry."

"You-... Are you-... Are you really-"

"-Shh. Try and get some sleep, dear. I'll put this back by your pillow when I'm done, okay?"

"Wait! What's-"

"-Henry, please. Trust me... Can you do that?"

"... You're really going to help Emma?"

"I'm going to try."

She offers him a thin smile and slips from the room, not sure she can stand having him look at her with wide, troubled eyes a moment longer.

Gold wakes with a start, frowning as he tries to place what has caused him to return to the land of the living, before he notices a thin sliver of light shining from the bedroom door which stands ajar. Pushing himself up, he grabs his cane and limps over to the other room with an angry twist to his lips.

"Jefferson!"

He growls irritably, before freezing in his tracks as he reaches the doorway; eyes wide as he takes in the madman's crouched stance as the latter hovers over the blonde.

"Step away from her! Now! I warned you about the repercussions of endangering the Saviour!"

Gold hisses, taking a hesitant step towards the bed as he glares at the Hatter warningly.

"I'd say that doesn't really matter anymore..."

Jefferson shrugs without looking up, his attention focused solely on the Saviour.

"What? What do you mean?!"

The pawnbroker demands.

"Come see for yourself."