She tries not to think about the logistics because if she does, she'll have to admit to herself that she's made something of an impossible promise to him, and though he's only just come into her life, the thought of letting him down is unbearable to her.
He takes her hand as they wait for a cab and she smiles down at him, her heart fluttering as he offers her a lopsided grin.
She knows that she can't just ignore that there are legalities involved; after all, somewhere out there is the foster family that he ran away from, a social worker who is assigned to him, other people who have likely wondered whatever happened to him; and despite all of the ways those people have failed him, they're still legally obligated to him and have much more of a claim on him than she does.
She'd be lying if she said that it hadn't occurred to her how easy it would be to just disappear with him—to take him back to her own fantastical world and never be seen or heard from again—but deep down, she knows that it's not a viable option because, if anything, he deserves better than a false sense of security.
He swings their hands back and forth, peering down the busy street as he watches for a cab. She takes a breath and smiles softy at him—if she's going to do this, she's going to do it the right way. She won't be yet another adult who lets him down and his sense of safety won't be threatened because of her brazen mistakes. There's little she's done in her life that she considers to have been the right thing—and usually, that doesn't bother her—but she's going to do this the right way. She's going to be better—because he deserves her to be.
He waves his free hand and a yellow cab pulls to the curb, and quickly they're inside of it, speeding toward her hotel just a few blocks away. She watches Henry carefully, watching as he watches New York City fly past them, his eyes wide and innocent as he takes it in as if he's experiencing the city for the first time. She can't remember the last time she had someone in her life who made her feel this way—who made her smile, who she wanted to love, who she'd do anything to protect. She'd forgotten what that felt like, but she hasn't forgotten what it felt like to lose it.
So she tries not to think about what will happen when they return to Storybrooke where nothing is as it seems. Her life there isn't real, it's all an illusion and the people in it are shells of who they used to be. Deep down, she knows that by bringing him into that world, her carefully crafted façade is going to crack. But as the cab slows as he once again takes her hand and she decides that's another battle for another day. The cab pulls away from the curb and she takes a deep breath, slowly exhaling it as she looks down at the little boy at her side—and when he smiles shyly and bats his eyelashes at her she finds that keeping her secrets don't really matter much to her. She's always been resourceful and she's always been determined, and she has no reason to believe that the impossible can't be possible.
"Are you tired?" She asks, as they step into the hotel's lobby.
"No," he says, shaking his head as his eyes widen. "Wow, this place is…amazing."
"It's not too bad," she agrees, grinning as he tugs him toward the elevators. "So, if you're not tired, what do you want to do when we get up to the room?"
His cheeks flush a little as he chews his bottom lips, looking up at her uncomfortably. "Can I…take a bath?"
"Oh…" She breathes out, her eyes slowly trailing over him. The light is brighter here and she can see that his hair is oily and his skin discolored. His fingernails are dirty and his clothes are stained, and she decides that it's safe to assume there's not a change of clothes tucked into his backpack. "Of course you can," she says, looking around the lobby, smiling softly in the direction of the gift shop. "But first, I have an idea…" She leads him toward the gift shop and they stop in front of the entrance. "How about getting some pajamas to change into after that bath?"
His eyes widen, "Really?"
His excitement is both endearing and heartbreaking. She licks her thumb before reaching out and rubbing a smudge of dirt off of his cheek, "So, you go in and take a look around. I'm going to take our bags to the front desk so someone can take them up to the room, and then I'll meet you inside, okay?"
He hesitates, but nods, and she watches as he disappears into the shop. She keeps a watchful eye on him as she makes her way to the front desk, checking the bags and instructing the concierge to have someone take them up as she peruses the brochures on local events and shopping and dining available in New York City. She smiles as she selects a few and tucks them into her purse.
Looking up, she sees Henry through the gift shop's window—and immediately, her shoulders tense. He's hugging a sweatshirt to himself and his jaw quivers as he looks up at a tall man standing in front of him—he looks so scared. She moves quickly, practically running in her too-high high heels and a moment later, she's sliding her arm around his small shoulders and pulling him back against her legs.
"Is there a problem?" She asks curtly, her eyebrow arching as she sizes up the hotel employee and prepares for a verbal assault only an Evil Queen could deliver.
But he cowers down and takes a step back. "I…didn't know he was with someone."
"He is," she confirms, her voice softer as her fingers press gently into Henry's shoulder and she circles around him, kneeling down so that they're eye-to-eye. "Are you okay?" He sniffles and nods, and his arm loosens around the sweatshirt. "I shouldn't have left you alone."
"He thought I was trying to steal this," Henry says meekly, averting her eyes. "He said he was going to call security." Her heart clenches and her jaw tightens, and for a moment, she stares past him to the counter where the clerk stands. She knows how it looks—this unkempt little boy wearing a thinned out red winter coat in the middle of August, alone and browsing the sweatshirt selection in the gift-shop of a five-star hotel—yet she can't help the anger that bubbles within her at the accusation. She takes a breath and pushes it away, instead focusing on Henry.
"So this is it, huh? This is the one you like best?" She tries to smile as she squeezes his hands reassuringly, trying to distract him from what just happened. Gently, she takes the sweatshirt from him and holds it up, smiling softly at the cobalt blue hoodie with lime green and white letters that spell out 'New York City.' "Do you like blue?" she asks.
He nods, but just barely. With a sigh, she reaches out and tips up his chin and before she can say anything, his face crumbles. "I wasn't going to take it. It was soft and I just wanted to feel it, so I put my hands in the sleeves. I promise I wasn't going to just take it." Her heart clenches and she feels another rush of anger as she briefly looks past Henry to the sales clerk at the counter. "I wouldn't do anything to purposely make you mad."
Her eyes dart back to him and for a brief moment, she thinks of herself at his age and the way she pleaded with her mother not to be upset with her. It didn't matter what she'd done—intentional or not—the punishment was always the same, and when it was over she found herself just a little more cautious than she'd been before.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Henry," she says in a firm voice as she gives his hand another assuring squeeze. "And I am not mad at you."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"I just…don't want you to change your mind," he tells her, his voice a hoarse whisper as his eyes look tentatively back at her.
Shaking her head, she sighs. "I know we don't know each other very well and I know this is all very sudden, but Henry, if there's one thing you should know about me once I decide I want to do something, I do it. I don't give up very easily."
He has no idea what an understatement it is and he has no idea that this isn't the first time their paths have crossed. She smiles gently and things of the wiggly, colicky little boy she held in her arms and loved so dearly—loved so dearly, she that she let him go. She'd spent the last eight years trying to convince herself that she'd done the right thing, that she could never have been what a child needed, that she was too broken and damaged to properly love a child; and he has no idea that tonight, she'd been slapped in the face with the reality that she'd been wrong. Eight years of guilt had come rushing back to her, and he has no idea how desperately she wants to right that wrong.
"So, Henry, I want you to know that there isn't anything you could say or do that's going to make me change my mind about this." She takes a breath and swallows the lump that's rising at the back of her throat. "Okay?"
He nods and slowly a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he looks away shyly, focusing on the sweatshirt. "Blue's my favorite color."
"Is it?" She asks, a soft grin forming over her lips as he nods again. "So, I suppose we should probably get the matching blue pants then?"
"I can get both?" She laughs a little and nods, as he reaches for a matching pair of sweatpants, his small hands running slowly over the soft fabric. Slowly, he turns his eyes up to meet hers. "Thank you."
She nods and her smile deepens, knowing that he isn't talking about the sweatshirt. Once more she squeezes his hand and stands up and together they walk toward the check out. On the way she grabs a pair of cargo shorts that look about his size and then a blue t-shirt that reads 'NY's Finest', making a mental note that tomorrow morning, they'll have some proper shopping to do.
Clearing her throat, she sets the items on the counter. Her jaw tenses as she looks at the clerk across from her and things of Henry's trembling jaw and teary eyes.
"Did you…find everything okay?"
She offers a curt nod, smiling coldly as she holds her tongue. There's a part of her that wants tear into him, to make him feel as small as he made Henry feel, to inquire if it's company policy to grill the children of their guests to the point of tears, but she chooses against it, knowing it's not what Henry needs to hear.
She takes the bag and hands it to Henry, smiling warmly as they make their way out of the shop and toward the elevators. She grins as he swings the bag back and forth as he watches the numbers light up on the elevator, and when the elevator door opens, he takes her hand and she feels her heart swell.
They make their way down the hall, and quickly she swipes her key card and opens the door. He goes in first and she can't stop the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth as he sees the sparkling cityscape in front of them.
"I've never seen New York like this," he murmurs as he takes a step closer as his backpack falls from his shoulder.
She chuckles softly as she closes the door, dropping her purse down into a chair. Her arm slips over around his shoulders as she leads him to the window and crouches down beside him. "Do you see that build there? The one with the all the lights at the top?" He nods. "Do you know what that is?" He looks back at her with wide eyes and shakes his head. "It's the Empire State Building and you can go to the top—to the Observation Deck—and look at the city. It's usually pretty crowded, but you can have lunch up there, looking over the city…"
"That's so cool."
"You've never been?" He shakes his head and looks back at the open window. "Would you like to? Tomorrow?"
"Really?" He turns back to her, smiling broadly at the prospect.
"Yeah, I thought maybe tomorrow we could…spend a day being tourists. We see the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty, do some shopping, go to Central Park…" She pauses, and her voice trails off. Admittedly, she has no idea the sort of activities that would appeal to a boy of his age, but he eyes are wide and he looks excited. She feels a fluttering in her chest and she's taken aback by the way his smile makes her feel—how it makes her feel things she once thought she was no longer capable of feeling. "I don't know…maybe we can just see where the day takes us and…have fun."
"I like that idea," he tells her with a decisive nod and a toothy grin.
"I was thinking maybe it could be…a pre-birthday celebration." Her eyebrow arch and she laughs as his eyes grow even wider and he starts to fidget in place, practically squirming with excitement. "But first, you need that bath."
Standing up, she takes him by the hand and leads him to the bathroom. She sets a few towels on the counter and sits on the edge of the tub as it fills with water. From the mirror she watches as Henry looks at the bottles lines on the counter, his small fingers running over the labels. When the tub is filled she stands, smiling as she tells him to call her if he needs anything. He nods as she leaves, leaving the door open just a crack as she passes through it.
She changes quickly into pajamas and at the dresser she removes her make-up, smiling at the soft subtle noises coming from the bathroom. It's nice to not be alone, she thinks as she reaches for her purse and pulls out the brochures from the front desk. She glosses over the first, noting attractions she thinks a small child might like, and before she gets to the second one, Henry's head is peeking out of the bathroom as he offers her a lopsided grin.
"That was quick."
"I got lonely," he tells her, shrugging his shoulders and he steps into the room wearing his new sweats. His cheeks are rosy and his hazel eyes look even brighter than they were before, as his fingers twist around the too-long sleeves of the sweatshirt. "And I was getting sleepy."
"Oh," she murmurs, as she tosses the brochures onto the nightstand and pulls back the corner of the blanket. "Then I suppose it's time for bed."
"But that's your bed."
"It's yours tonight," she tells him, patting the mattress as his brow furrows.
"But where will you sleep?" She gestures toward the arm chair beside the dresser and he shakes his head. "But I'm smaller. I'd fit in the chair better."
"But I've slept in a bed more recently." Again, she pats the bed. "It's your turn."
He hesitates for a moment and then steps forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tightly. Her arms slowly fold around him, her hand cupping the back of his head. "Thank you," he murmurs, his small voice cracking. She can feel his tears against her pajamas, as she pulls him closer. Her breath catches in her throat as she strokes her fingers through his hair, holding him until his tears stop and he slowly withdraws.
He smiles shyly averting her eyes as rubs his back and helps him into bed. She tucks the blanket around him, folding it around his shoulders before wiping away the remnants of his tears with her thumbs. "I'm glad you're here, Henry," she tells him, as she kisses two of her fingers then presses them to his cheek. "Good night."
"Good night, Regina," he says quietly, his eyes fluttering as he burrows back against the pillow and a smile stretches over his lips.
She smiles gently and takes a deep breath as she reaches for the light—and if there's anything that she's sure of, she's going to find a way to make this work.