Finding Home 5
He hadn't actually believed it when his mom told him who was back. Had stood stunned in the kitchen, heart dropping into his stomach at the mention of his long lost brother's name, a name he never thought he'd get a chance to hear again, let alone see his face.
It's been eighteen years, and there hasn't been a day gone by where he doesn't miss them both, terribly. Sure, life goes on, the sun still rises and sets everyday, uncaring as the to torment the hours in between leave behind, and their life continued, fractured in an irreparable way, damaged beyond fixing, but it did. He grew up knowing there should be two more plates at dinner, more stockings at christmas above the fireplace, more memories and milestones to be shared, but there wasn't any of that. For years he'd watched his mother slowly turn inward, hide from the world, a fraction of the person she once was.
It's better now, with Maleficent, not the same, but better. The dragon fills at least a part of the hole in his mother's heart, and she smiles more now, laughs a little more frequently, will even venture occasionally to Granny's if he begs her to. But this time of the year is always exceptionally hard, no matter the time that has passed, it doesn't get easier, knowing what they both lost. He feels the void, even today.
And while there is a plethora of male companions he can go to for advice, it's not quite the same, he's constantly left wondering what Robin would have told him, what words of wisdom, experiences and fatherly information he would have bestowed. Like how to muster up the courage to ask Violet out on a first date, or decide which university program was best, sneaking his first beer, how to fasten a tie, the necessities of wooing his lady love good and proper, what to do when things seemed to crash around him, how to make his mother smile when the world seemed to dark and dismal...he needed help, all these years, especially with that last thought.
Even Roland, that relationship he missed, terribly so. A younger brother to teach the ropes and ways of growing up. Being a confidant, a mentor, a brother to the enth degree. They could have had nights of hushed whispers under blankets while reading another story when they were supposed to be sleeping, learning how to shoot a bow and arrow together, Henry being the protector when kids at school decided to be bullies to his younger sibling. He could have taught him how to ride a bike, and figure out where Regina hid their christmas presents, proved that no matter what, he would always be there for him.
Neither situation got to play out. Was brutally taken from him in a matter of minutes, and left a family torn apart without even a band-aid to help it heal.
But the mention of his name, has Henry's heart doubling over, that small once dead flicker of hope reigniting in the pit of his stomach. And yet... she doesn't seem happy, or maybe that's not the word. Pained? In turmoil over it? Which is odd, because he is nearly bouncing on his feet at the thought of seeing Roland again, buzzing in excitement, a complete opposite to how Regina simply stares down into a cold cup of milky chamomile tea, eyes glazed over, head hung low, shoulders slouched.
He knows she blames herself for what happened, shouldn't, but does. There was no way any of this was her fault. Regardless of what other's might whisper, she has no part in the blame for what conspired in those three days. People can be cruel in their judgements. Talk too loudly over breakfast and what she could have done, or should have done.
But the difference is, they weren't there, staring actual death in the face, frozen to the spot, a half second too late before Robin had moved in the way, saving her like he always had. He'd love to see what they would have done, pretending to be all cool headed and confident minded, pathetic inconsiderate idiots. Regardless of how many times the real, genuine people in her life have promised it wasn't her fault, he still see's the uncomfortable guilt that clouds her eyes.
"So, how is he?"
Regina sighs, brushing back a lock of hair as Mal smoothes a palm across her back, gently kissing the crown of her head. "He's so angry with me."
"Why? He shouldn't be. You had nothing to do with what happened Mom!"
"Henry—"
"No, Mom. It's totally unfair to—"
"It's completely fair."
"What?"
"I was there when Robin died. I put him in that situation. I could have gotten us out of there."
"Mom, no. It wasn't your fault."
"I appreciate you saying that, but Roland still has a lot of anger, rightfully so."
They go silent, Regina shifting her cold tea away, Mal taking it with a sad smile and turning it down the sink, watching as the milky liquid seeps down the drain. They'd been doing well. Really well. But now, now she can barely get Regina to sleep for more than an hour, had to beg her to eat even a single meal or take a minute to breathe and assess what is happening, the sudden splitting of old wounds, bared fresh and raw.
All three of them know, most of the town does in fact, is privy to just how hard Regina tried to get her family back, to bring Robin back, because dammit if Hook, the one handed idiot pirate could escape Hell why couldn't Robin, good hearted, pure and true Robin come back from wherever he is?. It was a heavy, dark sentiment that hung over Storybrooke as they watched their mayor, their once fearsome, unbreakable Queen, beg to the highest heavens through tears, nearly dying in violent swirls of magic, as she promised parts of her soul and heart if they could just bring them back.
Eighteen years later, they still hadn't answered.
The dragon sighs heavily, wishing there was something more she could do, something they haven't tried, an untapped magical source that could break the rules of life, just so she could see her love smile that smile again. The one that is locked away, peaking through in shy moments but running quickly back to its cage in the recesses of Regina's heart.
"I could talk to him."
Their eyes meet, shock versus certainty matching one another. Her heart skips a beat at the look of pure conviction in his hazel eyes, she swells, glows with pride at her little boy, not so little anymore, the fierce belief in her, and her happy ending, intangible or not. Her son has been one of the few to still hold the candle of hope for her, even if the wax drips to the floor and the barely there wick, so short now, nearly burns his fingers with dying flame, he holds it.
"You don't have to, Henry."
He smiles, shifts his chair across the tiled kitchen floor, reaching across dark hickory dining table, linking their hands together, "You forget, he wasn't just your son, he was also my brother." Regina nods, swallowing the burning lump in her chest, blocking her ability to take a real true breath. She knows he's right, and if she opens her mouth, the lump with burst and she will cry, again, so instead she simply nods, hoping he understands, and he does, she knows he does.
They bid each other goodbye at the door, a hug from the Dragon, one that has Regina's heart swelling over their relationship, and another for her, tight and filled with promise as he kisses her cheek, vowing to see her later for dinner so long as she is still making lasagna. She chuckles, hugs him one more time because a mother is allowed seconds, she tells him she loves him, he reciprocates with a quick kiss on her cheek and the door closes, shutting out the cold air, leaving her home feeling colder still.
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He sees him sitting on the bench, knees bouncing sporadically as the snow puffs about his boots. He looks the same, bigger, obviously, filled out like a grown man, and Henry pauses at the fact that this person, his brother, isn't the same boy he lost so long ago. Time changes people, and not always for the better. It's with hopeful hesitation Henry trails forward, tugging his scarf around his neck as the snow swirls from the sky, it's going to be a white christmas this year, that there is no doubt.
"Is this spot taken?"
Roland freezes, turning slowly to see Henry grinning down at him, and his heart burns as he looks into hazel eyes. It's not really anger that floods through him, but pain, bitter pain. Brothers are supposed to protect one another, be there when the boogey man threatens to come out of the closet, save each other from monsters under the bed, be tied together in a way no one else is. Regina told him Henry would want to see him, not that he really believed her anyway, but here he is, not really knowing what to say, though his body shifts over to the left slightly, leaving some room for Henry to squeeze beside.
It's quiet for a few minutes, Henry arching back into the bench, tugging his scarf around his neck, both watching the snowflakes gracefully float through the sky, landing on the peaks of the playground's tops, lining the slide, slick and wet, and coating the swingset on the far side.
"I remember skipping lunch to come here." He sighs heavy, "Before the first curse broke. I'd sneak off and just sit on the swings till night fell."
"Why?"
Henry shrugs, itching his nose, "Well, some stupid kid at school asked where my dad was, and I didn't know, and then they asked why I didn't look like my mom, er- like Regina. It messed with me." Their breath puffs out in unison as Roland watches his brother- his used to be brother- whatever, he watches Henry's eyes slip down, it doesn't pass his notice just how much older he looks, no longer a teenager, scrawny and yet to fill out, but a grown man, thicker jaw line, a slight five o'clock shadow, and it makes sense, if he does the math. Henry was 15 when papa died, he's nearly 33 now, with a wife and job, a family, something Roland himself clearly doesn't have. A pulse of envy bubbles deep in his gut as he adjusts his own coat, irritated at the tattered state and small patches on it that suddenly appear glaringly obvious compared to Henry's tightly woven, impeccably fitted navy blue peacoat. Just another thing he was denied growing up alone in the Enchanted Forest.
"I asked Regina about my dad and she froze, I remember the look in her eyes, the absolute fear in them when I asked why I didn't look like her or have a father like all the other kids."
"I take it that's when you found out you were adopted."
"And all hell broke loose. Yeah." He chuckles sadly, "I had just gotten the storybook from Mary Margaret and everything suddenly got confusing. I pulled away from Regina, was so angry at her all the time, I felt like she didn't love me, she couldn't, the Evil Queen couldn't love anyone. I thought I was going crazy, at 10, had all this nonsense in my mind that felt like it made sense, by it was impossible, fairytales didn't exist."
"No they sure don't...at least not the kind you read at night before bed, everything ending in a happily ever after."
Henry stills at the iron in Roland's tone, the stone etched pain echoing across his face, and his heart sinks. His brother, long lost and found again, honestly doesn't believe in happy endings anymore. Gone is the effervescent bubbly nature that flowed through a young boy, the one who dreamed of becoming an outlaw, saving fair maidens, and fighting off dragons. There is no more wanderlust for adventure in the dark moody brown eyes anymore.
"Do you ever regret it?"
"What?"
"Going to find Emma?"
Henry frowns, because in truth there had been times where maybe regret wasn't the right word, but guilt perhaps, for when Emma came into the picture, Regina was thrown out, for a long time, has been left with wounds that still bleed from time to time.
"Yes and no." He swallows, trying to figure out how to best explain something he doesn't exactly understand completely himself yet, and may never. "I don't regret going to find Emma, but I regret how certain things played out because I brought her here to break the curse."
"What do you mean?"
He shuffles, brushing off a layer of snow on his pants, puffing out a heavy breath, this wasn't exactly the conversation he'd planned for when he sought Roland out. "If I never found Emma, if I had just learned to accept that I was adopted, there is always a small part of me that wonders if I could have spared Regina a lot of pain, maybe she and I could have been honestly happy just with it being the two of us."
"What about the storybook?"
"I was 10, I figure eventually I would have grown out of it and moved on."
"But then you wouldn't have your family."
"True, I wouldn't have this family, but maybe I would have had another."
They both go still, opting to stare out into the distance instead of looking into the sad entity of one another.
"Sometimes I wish you hadn't either."
Henry arches an eyebrow in question, but waits, watches as Roland tugs on a hole in his glove, he'll have to grab him a new pair at some point soon. "If you hadn't gone to find Emma, I might still have my dad."
It takes him a minute to connect the dots, how one decision he made when he was just 10, had so drastically influenced the life of another he'd yet to know, but it's there, in a thin finite glimmering thread he follows, the connection is apparent. Had he not found Emma, there would have been no curse breaking, no Neverland, no need to destroy Pan, no missing year, no Regina meeting Robin Hood and by default Roland, thus no love found between them all. Had he just chosen to love Regina all those years ago and be okay give up on fairy tales, maybe Roland would still have his father. It's a sour pit in his stomach. He had to find Emma. But suddenly, the results of his actions seem a bit too ugly now that they stare him right in the face, a sentiment his adoptive mothers once spat at his birth mother, taking action without thinking of the consequences, and those who get hurt and left behind in the wake.
"I don't blame you." Roland sighs, running his gloved hand over his face, scowling at their tattered state, thread tugged apart, gaping holes that let in the foul cold, "But sometimes I just wonder," He swallows hard, frowning at the snowflakes that fall, "If the good times were really worth going through the bad." Roland winces as he bites down on his lower lip, and Henry tenses at the expression. For a moment, he looked just like Robin, the same distant pained dancing across his face, one Henry had seen in the quiet moments, usually with Regina already fallen asleep on Robin's chest, his step father silently staring out the window as his fingers carded through her hair, with that look, the one he has come to understand as fear. Fear for what has already been taken unfairly, and what could still be torn apart, fear of not living up to a promise of never leaving again when the world can be so unkind. The memory burn hots in Henry's gut, how the usual bright blue had clouded over, slinking into a dark stormy grey, the desperate need to protect the same person, though from who was still unknown. Robin promised to do better by her, Henry still stiffened in defence of a broken heart he knew wasn't quite healed yet. They'd let it all go, one night in Camelot, had broken down the barrier, vowed that together, they would protect Regina.
"I had a family, we were a family, and then it was just gone." The defeated whisper tugs Henry back from the memory, shoulders slouch in unison, the need for a stiff whiskey incredibly apparent, as both men, no longer boys, try to swallow the taste of loss.
"And I can't help but think, every time you were taken away, or separated from Regina, she tried to find you, didn't stop holding onto you, even if it was just fractions of you, at least she tried."
Roland's heart hammers hard in his chest, the pang of jealously ricocheting around, as he shifts, disturbing the snow on the bench, biting back the green monster inside while sitting next to the child that was worth the fight to get back echoes about him, resonating deep in the crevasses inside. What was so special about Henry that he didn't have, or wasn't worth. Everyone knew Regina would walk through fire and hell to get Henry back, but Roland… well for a woman who claims to have missed him so much it tore her apart, as she had put it back at the diner, it still sank like a brick, one child was good enough and one simply wasn't, words be damned, actions always speak louder.
They sit, side by side, quietly contemplating the next move. Henry can tell Roland is tense, ready to run, his knee has yet to cease bouncing up and down, and the hole in his glove has grown twice in size. He's honestly not really sure how to navigate these waters. Sure, he's dealt with painful loss, but this hits so close to home, iron branded burn in the meat of his heart, he feels disconcertingly caught between consoling a lost brother, and defending a grieving mother.
She didn't mean for it to happen, for her entire world to come crumbling down within a matter of seconds. Seconds that have replayed over and over in her mind for hours on end, the torturous continuing stream of what if's, and why didn't you's. It took the town quite sometime to come to that realization, that in the end, magic be damned, Regina is still just a person, and sometimes the unthinkable can happen even to the most resilient of people.
"You know Roland, she did try." He shakes his head sadly, knowing the scars from magic that now lace her heart and soul, "For years. Harder than you probably even understand." They fall back into a quiet silence, and though it may not be his story to truly tell, this fracture between his mother and brother isn't going to be solved if either party are too afraid to ask the hard questions and hear the even worse answers. "I think that you should talk to her."
"I did."
"What did she tell you?"
Roland shuffles, making little footprinted snow angels in the ground, which makes Henry smile, because it's there, hidden deep down, the wonderment of a young boy, trapped inside the hollow bitterness of a grown man.
"She said that my dad died trying to save her from Hades." Henry nods, cause it's true, and sits muted. "She said that she made a mistake in the underworld giving my sister to that woman, and when they got home, she'd given her to Hades, and then Regina and Dad went to go save her." It doesn't pass Henry the unmention of Zelena's name, understandable given everything she took from him, the lies, the terror, the death. "Hades went to use the Olympian Crystal on Regina, and Dad jumped in the way."
His heart burns at the thought, that without even thinking his Papa made a snap decision that would ruin Roland's life effectively. The pit in his stomach scorches, eats away at the small dim nuggets of hope, swallows them whole. How dare he! How dare he just not think and leave him behind. It's not fair. None of it is fair. Papa should have been thinking about what he was doing, stepping in front of that crystal. But he didn't, and once again the actions lead to the worst, most heartbreaking consequences.
Henry can feel it too. The anger that radiates from the other man. The dark painted scowl that blows through dark brown eyes, devastating, overwhelming feeling of being lost, forgotten, unloved. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have birthdays, and Christmases together. Spend summers out by a lake camping, learning how to shoot bow and arrows, roast smores, go on trips, have lazy sunday's in pajamas watching cartoons and stuffing themselves on pancakes.
"I know it's not the same, and I never want to take anything from you," Henry clears his throat, tugging his coat back around his shoulders as he stands, "but I hope you realize that I lost a dad too that day, a second dad, one that had actually been in my life for more than a few days." Their eyes meet, and Henry passes a small sad smile, "We both lost parents that day, and not just a dad."
It's with that Henry turns, patting Roland on the shoulder as he stares off into the distance, frown lines hard set against the chill of winter, and Roland waits, listens to each and every step Henry takes away, till the rumble of a car engine sounds and the forest around him finally goes quiet once more. We both lost parents that day, and not just a dad…. For whatever reason, Henry's parting burns hot in his stomach. He lost a mom and a dad, Henry lost a step-dad, how was that even the same? It's not, he has no right to compare them. Where he was allowed to stay, live in the mansion, with Regina, with a mother, and feel loved, and wanted, the same certainly didn't go for Roland. The Merry Men did their best, sure, but it's not the same as a mother, as the constant affection he'd come to know under Regina's love.
She chose Henry, not him.
And yet...the way Henry said it, not just a dad… it's just off, the tone in his voice a distant and fractured, pained distress coating each decibel, maybe something happened with Regina, after losing Papa? Perhaps his resentment was clouding his judgement, voiding another layer, a more important layer of her's, he'd been blind too. He know's they were soulmates, has heard the tale from many parties, Regina and Papa included, and maybe that's it, the piece he can't seem to grasp just yet, maybe losing a soulmate damages the survivor irreparably, maybe she couldn't come find him.
"My guess is that she didn't tell you about the state of her heart now."
Roland frowns, turning to Henry who stares out into the distance sadly. She hadn't. He had gotten up and left before she could. It was too much, hearing how Papa died. He didn't want to know anymore. He'd stormed out of the diner, leaving her with watery red tear stained eyes and a cold coffee.
"You should ask her."
"Why?"
"I think you'd understand better. And I think, if you really know the truth of just how hard she tried, what she has given up, the prices she has paid trying to get you both back, I honestly believe it will bring you both some needed healing."
Henry stands, patting Roland on the shoulder, wishing to the highest of heavens that it could bring him some sense of security, though he knows until his brother knows the whole sad truth, that desperate feeling of safety will never wrap its arms around him again.
"You should come to dinner tonight."
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The mansion is quiet, as usual, the light acoustic melody playing in the background, bouncing off the walls that don't hear much happiness normally. Mal is in the kitchen, flicking her gaze between the pasta sauce, bubbling merrily away on the stove, and Regina who stares miserably down at the second mug of tea, now gone frigidly cold. She barely saw her love when the front door closed early in the afternoon.
They'd talked about Roland all night, Mal finally convincing Regina to go back and find him, she wouldn't heal the bleeding wounds without doing so. But now, it seems as though those lesions have only cratered further, tugging the brunette down a dark spiralling hole. Even Henry, who had come home earlier hasn't really been able to rouse her out of the despairing state she is in.
"You need any help Mal?"
"I'm good, thanks Henry. Why don't you get your mom a glass of wine, and set the table." She wipes her hands on the purple apron, one she had absolutely refused to wear a few years back. Funny how things can change. "I'm almost done here anyway."
He nods, grabs the bottle from the liquor rack and four glasses, the addition has Mal's eyebrow cocking at the young man, who simply shrugs, sheepishly smiles as he looks towards his mom twirling her spoon in the cold tea, "I'm hoping."
"Me too."
It's nice. Dinner. Mal and Henry do everything they can to get Regina to talk. Pulling her into the conversation about where Henry and Violet are planning for a summer trip. He is thinking Amsterdam, his wife would prefer the south of Italy. He will go wherever she wants really, is happy to just spend time with his girl exploring.
"I've always wanted to see Romania." Mal quips through a gulp of wine, "They have some pretty impressive history."
"Dragons and Vampires?" Henry jabs back, chucking as Mal rolls her blue eyes, shrugging it off with a wave of her hand. "What about you Regina?"
"What?"
She reaches across the table, lacing her fingers into Regina's who frowns at the both of them, her mind clearly somewhere else, with someone else, and it makes Mal's heart ache. "If you could go on vacation anywhere, where would you choose?"
"Oh. Uh. I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."
They grow quiet, Henry forking another mouthful of roasted pepper linguini, and he has to hand it to the dragon, her cooking skills, while usually on the spicier side, is actually quite impressive. Regina doesn't really cook that much anymore. Does when no one is home, he is quite frequently granted with her leftovers, but he's rarely gotten the opportunity to watch her in the kitchen. It's another sore spot. She was teaching Robin to cook, before he died. They'd spend hours there, covered in sauces and doughs, his bewildered uncertainty at most of the appliances had Regina laughing that sweet pure sound Henry so solemnly gets to hear anymore. The toaster was a complete no for Robin, who'd claim it was unnatural, though they all knew the contraption had scared the piss out of him one morning, he'd never touched the thing since.
"What about Australia?"
"Oh, the warm weather and beaches. Good one. Or maybe Egypt."
"Rome?"
"Costa Rica?"
The two of them go back and forth for a few minutes, debating where the best spots would be, where had the most culture, the greatest food, most spectacular landscapes, both deciding that a beach was a necessity, given the frigid cold winters Maine always is thrust into, the thought of hot sun and warm sand a definite must.
"Jasper."
The word is so low, they both nearly miss it, but Regina sighs, runs her hand through her hair, lets her fork clink down onto her plate as she reaches for her wine, letting the dark red liquid swirl a few times before she takes a grateful sip.
"Like Jasper, Canada?" Henry questions, not really knowing why she'd pick there of all places.
She nods, licks her lips and lets her eyes roam to a photo he knows it right behind him. A picture Mary Margaret had captured one day, his mom and Robin wrapped up in each other's arms, her forehead resting on his chest, a quiet moment of peace frozen in time, surrounded by the forest in Camelot, thick full tree's covering the skies, if looked at closely, her smile is visible, happily buried underneath a curtain of hair, Robin's own breathed into her head. It's one of the only pictures they have together.
"He had mentioned one time that the landscape here was abysmal compared to the Enchanted Forest, and he missed it." She swallows thick, sniffing the onslaught of tears that burn the backs of her eyes. "I bought him a book, uh, The Top 10 Forests in the World. He probably read it a good ten times before deciding he wanted to see Jasper National Park." Her smile is feeble, melted away by the tremble in her lower lip, the pain palpable in the dining room.
"Maybe we could still go?" Henry shifts, reaching across the oak table to grab her hand, holding her slender palm tight in his own. How small is mother truly is, hasn't ever really escaped him. This quote on quote All powerful, mightier than thou, wielder of dark and light magic, is really nothing but his compact mom. Can gain some serious respect in a well tailored suit and high manicured arched eyebrow, but he can fold her into his arms like a child, The Great and Mighty Queen.
"I don't know. Maybe." She replies completely non-committal, knowing it won't actually ever happen, because she couldn't go without him. It wouldn't be impossible to walk through the evergreen without his hand locked into hers. Can't fathom the thought of sitting around a campfire at night, counting constellations without his warm timber voice nestled into her ear. It just wouldn't be right without him.
The talk a little while longer, mulling over what to do for the weekend, Christmas is coming, the town is preparing its annual holiday fair, one Regina makes a single Mayoral attendance to, and then retreats back to the house where decorations are sparse. A knock at the door, breaks their conversation, and the recoil in Regina's shoulders is visible, her hands tightening around the near empty wine glass. Henry stands, waving her movement to answer it, and jogs lightly to the door.
It leaves Mal and Regina at the table alone for a moment, a sweet kiss pressed into the brunette's temple, "We can always go to Jasper if you want, you know that right?".
"I know. I just…"
"I know. Whenever you're ready." Maleficent kisses her love one more time, and settles back into the wooden chair, and her heart skips a beat when Henry walks back into the dining room, grinning from ear to ear, and it seems his hope has won out.
"Is there an extra plate?"
Regina spins, jaw dropping, soul jolting as both, not just one, but both her boys stand around the table. She finds his eyes, timid and scared, and yet they hold strong, and something long forgotten flickers in the bottom of her heart when his dimples flash quickly through a hesitant smile. Mal nods, conjures up a quick plate, and Roland saddles beside Regina, not once looking at the meal in front of him, just only at her.
"Smells good."
"Mal is quite the chef these days." Henry chuckles, sending a wink towards the Dragon.
"You don't happen to have some more wine do you?"
It takes Regina a second, as her hands shake grabbing the second bottle, hovering it above his empty glass, and there is a hundreds things she wants to say to him, a thousand more she needs to tell him, and yet, the only thing that escapes her has the entire table bubbling over in laughter as she questions out "Are you old enough to drink?" The mother in her flourishing for a half beat before she realizes what she just did, flushes with embarrassment, and hands Roland the bottle, who pours himself a glass.
And she can't stop staring at him, at her family who sitting at her table, the pulsating in her heart erratic, ricocheting about her chest as she listens to Henry ask Roland where he'd go on vacation if he could pick. His answer "I dunno, but here seems like a good start." flooding Regina's eyes with fresh tears she desperately tries to blink away, but his hand grabs hers, under the table, laces them together and squeezes tight. She holds onto him for dear life, fearing if they part she will float away, and she lets her gaze drift back to the last vacant seat at the oakwood dining table, one that sits deserted beside her, and it hurts, brutally so, but her hand is still locked into Roland's, and that puts the first bandaid on her broken heart.