Regina takes a long, deep breath as gets out of her car and stares at the elementary school. She smooths her skirt and blinks up at the school, finding the window she knows to be Mary Margaret Blanchard's third-grade classroom–and her stomach flutters.
She'd stood in this exact spot countless times–she'd held meetings at the school hundreds of times over the years to discuss reading programs and math programs, to evaluate how the budget would be spent and to hand out honor roll certificates at the end of the school year. And, over the course of the past several months, she'd visited the elementary school in a new role as a parent. She attended class parties and school events, and every morning she dropped Henry off and every afternoon, she picked him up. He led her through the halls and pointed out his artwork when it was pinned onto the bulletin board outside of the art room, and tugged her into the library after tutoring to check out books to read during Silent Reading time and on the weekends.
But today, she was here for a cordial, casual visit, and she'd brought a gift basket– a gift basket for Mary Margaret Blanchard, the unofficial chair of the made-up Hospital Visitation Program she started in an effort to bring Prince Charming back to Snow White… a concept that, at times, befuddled even her.
Rolling her shoulders, she pushes herself forward, putting on a smile as she enters the school and makes her way to Mary Margaret's classroom–and she's only partially surprised to find her alone, sitting at her desk, grading and humming softy.
"Knock, knock," she murmurs in a voice that's too chipper as she taps her knuckles against the frame of the door and tries not to cringe at herself. "I think I'm a little early…"
"Oh, no, you're right on time!" Mary Margaret says brightly. "And today is a double specials day, so we have plenty of time to chat."
"Oh… that's… that's good."
Mary Margaret nods–and then her eyes widen and she gasps a little. "But before we begin our official business, I just finished grading Henry's math quiz and…" She pulls a paper from the stack and holds it out to Regina. "80! Not bad!"
"Oh, he'll be so excited," Regina says, taking the quiz and smiling warmly at eraser smudges that cover it–evidence that he's putting to use the strategies that Robin has been working on with him to check over his work. "Can I… can I have this?"
"Yeah," Mary Margaret says easily. "I was going to hand them back tomorrow morning, but…" she shrugs, "I don't see why he can't have it a little early."
"Thank you," Regina says in earnest. "I… uh…" Her voice trails off and she's not quite sure what to say. "Just… thank you."
"There's no need to thank me. He's doing the work, not me."
"I know, but it's hard for him and…"
"And he's got a great mom who's helping him through it." Regina feels her cheeks flush and her stomach flutters, and she's not quite sure how to respond to that– especially when it comes from the woman who was once her step-daughter, the woman she'd watched grow up and had turned on. Her stomach tightens and she looks back to the math quiz, and suddenly her throat feels dry. "Well, anyway, I guess we should move on to the visitation program."
"Oh… right…" Taking a quick breath, she swallows hard and tries to collect herself. "Oh! I, um, I brought this for you. It's…" Awkwardly, she shifts forward and hand the basket to Mary Margaret. "…just a little something for your efforts."
She watches as Mary Margaret's eyes widen in surprise. "You really didn't have to…"
"I know," Regina cuts in, nodding as she watches Mary Margaret sifts through the basket's contents, remembering how she'd gritted her teeth that morning as she'd put it all together in her office. "But I wanted to," she lies. "You've… been so… wonderful with this program."
"Ohh," she breathes out as she pulls out a little chubby stuffed bird–one that's not unlike the ones she used to let perch on her fingers as a little girl–immediately giving it a little squeeze–and laughing out when the bird chirps. "He sings!"
"Mm, yes… yes, he does…"
"Oh, this is adorable and it's filled with so many of my favorite things!" She looks up. "Is this pear!?"
"Oil, yes," Regina nods. "There's a little diffuser in there, too." A tight grin pulls onto her lips. "Something just told me that you weren't much of an apple lover, despite your profession."
"I love pears!"
Regina nods, and fights against her instinct to roll her eyes. She knows how much Snow White loves pears–and she still remembers the tantrums she'd throw when she didn't get warmed pears for dessert when she was a child. Putting the basket together hadn't been at all difficult, once she got over actually having to do it, and she'd filled it with things she knew that Mary Margaret would enjoy, even if only subconsciously. She included things reminiscent of her former life, a life she hadn't known she left behind and she hoped it might spark something. "There's a book of nature poems in there, too," Regina murmurs absently. "I thought you might… like that," she says, hesitating momentarily. "And, I thought that maybe you could share some of these things with your… patient."
"That's so thoughtful…"
Again, Regina nods–and this time, inhales a short breath. "On that note, I was…" Her voice halts as Mary Margaret takes a few steps forward, closing the comfortable gap around them as her arms wrap around her and she draws her into a hug. Regina tenses immediately, her shoulders rising as her back tightens–and she takes a short breath as her eyes sink closed before raising her arm to pat Mary Margaret's back with a stiff hand. "Um…" Mary Margaret backs away and Regina release her breath and blinks a few times as she bristles.
"I'm sorry. I'm a hugger, I…"
"Of course," Regina mutters beneath her breath, swallowing hard as she tries not to scowl at the unsolicited touch. "So, uh, about the, um… the program…"
"Oh, yes…" Mary Margaret murmurs, nodding as a wistful little smile tugs onto her lips.
"I was curious how you feel it's going with… your visits to your John Doe." Her stomach flutters a bit. "I know you've got a difficult case."
"Oh… no, no," Mary Margaret cuts in. "It's not difficult. I… like him."
"He's in a coma," Regina says flatly.
"I know," she nods, her cheeks flushing in a way that's both endearing and annoying. "But…I don't know, there's just something about him." Her cheeks flush deeper and Regina's eyes widen as a soft giggle escapes her. "There's just something calming about being with him, just sitting there and reading to him and…" She shrugs. "And now I have some new poetry to read him."
A grin twists onto Regina's lips and she stifles the laugh that tries to rise into her voice. "If only i could cast some spell and wake him up for you."
"Oh," Mary Margaret breathes out. "If only."
"You really like him."
"Is that crazy?" She asks, leaning in a little as her voice drops. "I guess I've just… built him up in my head or something." Instinctively, Regina leans back a little to maintain a comfortable distance. "I guess that says a lot about my love life."
"Maybe, but it's… it's not completely crazy," Regina muses. "Stranger things have happened, I suppose."
"Maybe," Mary Margaret nods, again looking a little wistful as the conversation moves to more official–and comfortable–topics, like budgetary needs and support the Mayor's office or even the hospital can offer to its volunteers. And as they talk, a little flicker of hope rises into Regina's chest, and she can't see how Mary Margaret's little crush on her comatose Prince Charming can anything other than a good sign, and finally she feels like she making progress.
Regina leaves her office later than she'd hoped, and though the sun is still shining when she gets into her car to drive to Robin's cabin to meet him and the boys, it's nearly dusk by the time she gets there.
As soon as she turns the key in the lock and starts to push open the door, she smiles at the sound of Henry and Roland laughing–and her breath catches in her chest and she watches as they jump on Robin, knocking him back against the carpet. He laughs, too, as his his arms wrap around each of them, rolling back and forth as he tickles them.
Robin's head falls back as her heard her footsteps, and he offered her a sheepish grin. "I believe this is why rootbeer floats for dinner is a poor choice."
Regina's eyebrows arch. "You didn't…"
"He did!"
"I told him you wouldn't think it was a good idea," Roland calls out, as Robin sits up and shoots him a look. "Well, I did."
"Tattle," he returns, winking at his son as he lifts both boys under his arms and drops them down onto the couch as he stands. "I was doing my best Mr. Miyagi impression and… things got a little out of hand." Regina chuckles softly as she shakes her head, and Robin tosses Henry the remote. "Want to finish the movie?"
Henry nods and the boys settle in on the couch, still giggling as Robin jogs over to the kitchen to meet Regina. "You didn't have to stop. I can manage to figure out something that'll work as a proper dinner," she says, opening the refrigerator as Robin presses a quick kiss to her cheek, then leans back against the edge of the counter. "How does Roland feel about sausage?"
"He'll eat if if you tell him it's a hot dog."
Regina blinks and shakes her head. "Hm, sounds like a challenge." A grin tugs onto lips as she reaches for a package of Italian sausage. "And it's thawed."
"I… wanted to talk to you about something," he begins, glancing quickly back at the boys who are once again engrossed in The Karate Kid. "Henry had… sort of a rough day."
"What?" She asks, her eyes widening. "What happened?"
"At first, he wouldn't tell me much, but he was quite upset after school." He pauses and his eyes shift to the empty ice cream carton and the cans of root beer on the counter. "I managed to coax it out of him by offering up extra chocolate drizzle."
"Oh," Regina breathes out, turning to face him–her chest tightening at the realization that her son was upset and she wasn't there for him, opting to work a little later than usual to finish a few menial tasks. "So, what happened? I was just meeting with Mary Margaret and she didn't say anything."
"I think it happened after that… in gym class." He shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not even sure Mary Margaret knew anything had happened." He takes a breath. "Henry was pretty adamant about keeping it to himself."
"Ah…" Taking a breath, she bristles, not really knowing how she feels–after all, these sorts of things were common with kids, but understanding that didn't matter when it was her kid. "Did he tell you what happened?"
Robin hesitates. "So, he's mentioned his friend Matthew? The boy…"
"Who sits across from him," Regina interjects with a nod. "He talks about him sometimes."
"Yes, well, today in gym, Matty got to be a dodgeball captain, and whenever they get to choose teams, Matty always picks Henry first and Henry always picks Matty first…but… today, that didn't happen." Robin pauses for a moment and she feels her stomach tightening with the anticipation of more. "So, Henry asked him about it after class and Matty told him that his mom said she doesn't want him playing with Henry anymore…"
Regina's eyes widen and she feels heat rising at the back of her neck as anger bubbles up from her core. "And did Matty say why his mother would tell him something like that?" And then, her stomach drops when Robin hesitates. "Oh… it's… me."
Robin nods. "Henry didn't anything about the reason and I'm not sure that Matty supplied one, outside of his mother saying she'd prefer him not to play with…"
"My son…"
"Yeah…"
"Oh," Regina breathes out, her head tipping back as her eyes press closed–and the anger at her core intensifies as it shifts from some nameless, faceless woman to herself. "I assume that means she's… remembered something about me, something undoubtedly terrible."
"Maybe," Robin murmurs in reply as her head tilts back up to look at him, watching the way he stares at her and watching the way his lip catches between his teeth as if he knows whatever he's about to say will sting. "There's… a little more that I think is worth mentioning." Her eyebrows arch as she lets out a shaky breath, nodding for him to continue as a faint grin tugs up onto his lips. "Henry defended you."
"What?" Her breath catches–it's not at all what she expected to hear. "He… defended me?"
"He… said that you were a good person and if someone didn't like you or believed bad things about you, then he didn't want to be friends with that sort of person."
Her head dips forward and she reaches up to rub at her temple. "He shouldn't have to…"
"Henry defending your honor isn't a bad thing, Regina."
"Good or bad, it doesn't matter. He's a kid. He should have to defend the terrible things I've…"
"He loves you," Robin cuts in. "And he sees the good in you because, in spite of everything and in spite of what you might believe, there's a lot of good to see."
For a moment, she doesn't reply–and she finds herself wondering what it is that Matty's mother remembered about her. Her eyes press shut and she takes a long, deep breath–and the worst part is, it could have been any number of terrible deeds, each no better than the rest. She can't blame the boy's mother for not wanting her child anywhere near her because if the tables were turned, she'd do the same–she just hates that Henry's caught in the crossfire.
"Hey," Robin says, stepping forward and sliding his hands over her hips. "Why don't you go sit with the boys, and I'll handle dinner." He drops a quick kiss to her forehead. "He's okay, Regina. Don't beat yourself up over this. It's not your…"
"But it is my fault," she says with a tired sigh. "Everything is."
Taking the package of sausage from her, Robin sets it onto the counter beside them and tugs her into a hug. His arms fold around her as her head instinctively falls to his shoulder. He rubs her back and rocks her gently, offering comfort she doesn't deserve, but desperately wants–and for an all too brief moment, she melts into him and wishes she could feel like the person he believes she is.
"Okay," Robin murmurs gently, as he steps back. "Go on, go cuddle your boy. You'll feel better."
Regina nods and she can feel him watching her as she goes, joining the boys on the couch. A smile pulls onto her face as Roland stares wide-eyed and unblinking at the movie, barely aware that she's joined them, and Henry scoots back on the couch to sit up against her. Leaning down, she drops a kiss to the top of his head and she smooths his hair, smiling when he tilts his head back and grins at her.
"I heard you had a tough day," she whispers.
"Yeah," he says with a sigh. "It was kinda tough."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Henry considers, then shakes his head. "No. Matty was just being rude."
"Oh yeah?"
Henry nods, then looks back to the TV. "I'm better at dodgeball, anyway," he says easily. "My team won."
Regina smiles a bit uneasily. "Are you sure? How was he being rude?"
Henry shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders, making it clear that he didn't want to tell her and obviously unaware that Robin had already informed her about what Matty said to him. She sighs and kisses him again, as her arm folds around his chest–and she hates that he feels the need to protect her.
When the movie's over, Robin has dinner on the table, and everything feels normal. Roland refuses to eat the sweet potato fries until he sees Henry enjoying them and he puts so much mustard onto his sausage, it's easy to see why he thinks it's hot dog. Regina laughs when he insists on eating only the red peppers–remembering them from another dinner at her house, when they'd had fajitas and she'd made him try them–and Robin's eyes roll when Regina gets him to try some of the sauted onions on top of the mustard and sausage.
After dinner, the boys do their homework and she proudly shows off Henry's quiz score, making his cheeks flush and before he can recover, Robin scoops him up and tosses him in the air, telling him how proud he is of his progress. Henry helps Roland with his homework–a reading worksheet about Native American myths that has an accompanying coloring page, and her heart flutters as she watches Henry help Roland pick out the colors he should used based on the details in the story.
Robin comes up behind her, hugging her back against him as his lips find her jaw, leaving behind a trail of fluttering kisses. "Are you staying tonight?"
"Oh," she breathes out, looking back at him from over her shoulder. "I… don't know."
"You have clothes here and so does Henry."
"I know…"
"And Roland and I would love to have breakfast with the two of you tomorrow before school."
"He's not the only one…"
"So, you'll stay?"
Regina takes a breath, turning and linking her arms loosely around his neck. "I want to, but…" Her voice trails off and she looks back at Henry, listening as he explains why a reddish-brown color is a good choice for the picture, even though it's ugly, pointing out the terracotta pottery in the story. "He does seem content," she murmurs, as she looks back at Robin. "I… suppose we could stay the night… as long as Henry doesn't mind." She grins. "And I'm positive he won't mind."
She rolls her eyes as a victorious smile tugs onto Robin's lips. "You know," he begins, stepping back and leading her into the living room. "You never told me about your meeting with Mary Margaret."
Regina sighs and rolls her eyes, letting him pull her down into the armchair with him. "She hugged me."
Robin blinks. "I'm sorry?"
"Mary Margaret Blanchard hugged me."
"Why on earth would she do a thing like that?" He asks, practically snorting an in effort to keep from laughing. "Wasn't it a… business meeting?"
"Sort of," Regina nods, grimacing a as she looks up at him. "I gave her… a gift basket."
Robin blinks again. "Oh… that's…" His lips purse and it's evident that he's trying not to laugh. "Awfully kind."
"I needed to give her some things that might… help jog her memory a bit." She pauses and her lip catches between her teeth. "I included some pear-scented oil that might be laced with something to… help with that."
"Laced with something," he repeats. "You're going to drug her?"
Regina's eyes widen. "You make it sound like I roofied her drink." Robin laugh out and his arms tighten around her–and she sighs, audibly annoyed as tears begin to seep from the sides. "What?" She asks, sighing as she jabs at him. "Why is that so funny?"
"I'm sorry," he answers, his voice breathless. "I just… I can't get over this." Her eyes widen and he takes a breath in an effort to compose himself. "You, the Evil Queen, mixing up love potions to…"
Rolling her eyes, she pushes at his chest. "Shut up."
"You are adorably terrible at this evil thing," he laughs. "Did you include apples, too?"
"No," she scoffs. "It'd be waste of a perfectly good apple."
Robin presses a kiss to her temple and his lips flutter against her skin as he laugh. "Of course it would be…"
Rolling her eyes, she cuddles into him, letting him hold her as she continues to tell him about her meeting with Mary Margaret. She tells him about the poetry and already growing attraction Mary Margaret feels for David, despite his comatose state. Robin laughs softly and shakes his head–and every now and then, he remembers the laced pear oil and heartier laugh rises up from his chest. She rolls her eyes and scoffs at him, playfully swatting at him–and for just a little while, the guilt subsides.
"Are you sure you don't mind staying here tonight," Regina asks as she pulls out the trundle from beneath Roland's bed. "Because we can always…"
"Mom," Henry cuts in. "I'm absolutely sure." He grins. "Just like I was the other two hundred times you asked me about it."
"Well, I just want to be sure," she says, sighs as she sits on the edge of the bed, "I know your had kind of a rough day and sometimes, especially after a bad day, it can be kind of nice to curl up in your own bed and…"
"Mom, I like being here," Henry says, sitting down on the bed beside her in a pair of Captain America pajamas they leave at Robin's for occasions like this . "Just like I like when Robin and Roland stay with us." He shrugs. "We're kind of like a little family and I like that."
A lopsided grin pulls up from the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, we kinda are, I guess." Reaching out, she combs her fingers through his hair. "Are you sure you won't miss reading Harry Potter though? You keep saying a good part is coming up."
Henry giggles. "A good part is always coming up," he says. "Besides, we can always read double tomorrow."
"How did I know you were going to say that?"
"Maybe you have a sixth sense!"
"Yeah, maybe I do," she says, a soft chuckle rising into her voice. "So, you're really sure you want to stay?"
Henry's eyes widen a little and a grin twists onto her lips. "Do you remember how Emma said she had that superpower… you know, how she can tell when people are lying?"
"I do," she replies, a little caught off guard by the mention of Emma Swan. "Why?"
"Well… I think that… maybe I have something like that, too?"
Regina's brow arches. "You can tell when people are lying?"
"Not… exactly," Henry say, shifting a little as he fumbles with his fingers. "It's different for me," he says slowly, still trying to work out the details. "But I can tell when people have a good heart." He blinks as he looks up at her, and suddenly, he looks so serious. "I can tell if a person is a good person or a bad person," he says as her chest tightens as her heart beats a little faster. "That's how I knew I could trust you that night you took me to dinner in New York and that's how I knew inviting Roland and Robin over for a movie was a good idea."
"Oh," she breathes out, not really knowing what to say and not really understanding the feeling that surges through her–an odd mix of relief and guilt that warms her heart but causes a knot to form in her stomach. Taking a short breath, she forces a smile–a smile that she does it's best to conceal what she's thinking and feeling. "Is this your way of telling me I need to stop checking with you whenever Robin invites us to stay?"
"Kinda…" Henry admits in a sheepish voice as his shoulder shrug. "He's not going to hurt us, Mom. Trust me."
She sighs a little wistfully as she looks at him, nodding as she takes a breath. There's something so bittersweet about the moment–his need to reassure her and his steadfast belief in her goodness; but she knows that soon, that belief will be tested and he'll no longer be able to look at her as simply as he does now. Soon, he'll see her for who she really is and hanging onto the notion that she's the person he believes she is won't be an option–and her stomach churns as she hopes he'll be able to reconcile it and move on. Reaching out, she gives his hand a soft little squeeze as a mix of emotion surges through her–and wants so desperately to be the person he thinks she is and it breaks her heart to know she'll never live up to his expectation.
"I wonder if I have any other powers," Henry murmurs through a giggle, pulling her back into the moment. "Harry didn't find out he was a wizard until he was eleven," he says. "So, it's possible…"
A warm grin tugs onto her lips and she laughs, watching the way his grin brightens at the thought of magical powers–and for a brief moment, she lets herself imagine what it'd be like to introduce him to magic, real magic that he doesn't know exists all around him. She knows he'd be enamoured by it, drawn to it through his natural curiosity, and she wonders which spells and potions would become his favorites. She imagines him conjuring cupcakes and using it for a proper game of quidditch, and she imagines him using his powers for good, for the reasons she once was naive enough to think she'd use it.
Her thoughts quickly shift to other things as Roland and Robin join them in Roland's bedroom–and Robin ushers both boys into their beds, tucking the covers tight around them. Regina grins as she watches–she loves watching Robin with them, watching how sweet and soft he is–and once they're nestled beneath the covers, Robin flicks on the nightlight and turns off the lights. She settles on the edge of Henry's bed and Robin sits at the foot of it, telling them another story that leaves them wide-eyed and gasping for more rather than making them want to sleep–a story that's likely another adventure of the real Robin Hood.
But eventually, their eyelids grow heavy and Robin and Regina say their goodnights.
Robin's fingers lace through hers as he leads her to his bedroom–quickly turning down the bed while she brushes her teeth and takes off her make up. She can't help but grin when she steps back into the bedroom, finding him sitting up in bed, waiting for her. She chuckles softly as he pulls back the corner of the blanket and pats the open space beside him, and she shakes her head as she climbs in, sighing as she leans back against the pillows.
"I'm glad you decided to stay," he says, looking over at her.
A faint grin pulls onto her lips. "I am, too."
"How's Henry doing?" He asks, sliding down on the bed and rolling onto his side to face her. "It seemed like you two were in the middle of a pretty serious chat when Roland and I came in."
"Oh, no…" she murmurs, staring up at the ceiling. "We were just… talking about magical powers." She blinks as her head turns on the pillow. "He… says he has the power to tell when people are good-hearted."
"I believe that," Robin says easily. "He's a good judge of character. You should see him in my shop. He knows exactly who's serious about buying something and who's just… browsing so they can order it cheaper online." He chuckles softly, his blue eyes shining in a way that never fails to make her heart flutter. "I wish he could train John to do the same."
Regina's eyes roll. "I'm glad he can be useful."
"Very much so."
She lets out a shallow breath as she rolls onto her side and tucks her hand beneath her cheek. "I'm going to let him down," she says quietly. "And prove him wrong."
"What?"
"He… told me that he used his superpower–his ability to tell if someone had a good heart–when he met me. He said it's how he knew that he could trust me, that's why he let me take him to dinner and… then…" She sighs. "Everything he thinks he has with me is… is based on a lie."
"That's not true, Regina."
"It is," she says, her voice shaky and hushed as she feels herself nearing the verge of tears. "He's going to be crushed and… it's my fault."
"You… don't know that," Robin says, his hand falling over her hip and kneading gently. "You can't know."
"He's already hurting…" Robin's brow creases and she can tell that he's not quite following. "What happened today in gym class, that's all because…"
"No," Robin cuts in. "Yes, Henry was upset about that, but that's hardly your fault."
"Whatever Matty's mom thinks I did… I probably did."
"Maybe," Robin says with a curt nod. "But she doesn't know that." Regina's lips part to argue–to insist that that hardly matters–but Robin's fingers press more firmly into her hip and he leans in a little. "Regina, what she does with that information–information she doesn't know is true, even if it is–is her choice. And it was her choice to use that information to…"
"She was trying to protect her son."
"From what? Henry?" Robin blinks. "We're not talking about saying he can't attend play dates and slumber parties at your house. We're talking about playing dodgeball in gym class. That's hardly the same." Regina sighs and tries to roll back onto her back, but Robin holds tighter, stopping her. "I'm not saying you're completely blameless, I'm just saying that… you can't shoulder all of it."
"But set it all into motion, Robin. None of this would be…"
"You didn't, though." She blinks and her brow creases, not understanding–she's the one who cast the curse and she holds the blame for any resulting fall out. "Regina, you didn't act alone."
"Yes, I did," she cuts in. "I don't know why you'd…" Robin sighs as he rolls away, reaching over the edge of the bed for something she can't see on the floor. She sits up a little, craning her neck a little as Robin pulls himself back up, dropping the leather-bound storybook that had appeared just after Christmas onto his lap. "Where did that come from?" She asks, her eyebrow arching as she tips her head.
"Your office," he replies plainly, opening the cover and thumbing through the pages.
"Obviously, but why is it here?" She asks, sitting up.
"I snagged it the last time I was in your office."
"You know you don't have to steal it every time you feel the need to look at it."
Robin shrugs and offers her a grin. "I know, but it's more fun this way." Regina sighs and her eyes roll, but she rests her chin on Robin's shoulder, watching as he quickly turns the pages. "It's also handy when I have to prove you wrong about your own story."
"I don't think that's possible. It is my story, after all."
Robin turns to look at her, a smug grin tugging onto his lips. "We'll see about that." Again, her eyes roll as he turns to a page, pointing down at an image that makes her wince, an image of a unicorn writing in pain as she held its heart in her hand. Her eyes pinch closed and Robin shifts himself so that he can slip an arm around her. "You have a good heart," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You didn't want to use magic to hurt anyone, not even an animal."
"But then, I… did." Robin nods and her eyes open as he turns the page. "I killed that girl. I… reached into her chest and I ripped out of her heart and I did it because…"
"You were trying to prove yourself." At that she scoffs. "Regina, you aren't innately evil. You never wanted to be the person you became, but you didn't see another way." She rests her head on his shoulders, letting him hold her as she remembers–remembering how trapped she felt, how alone she was, how her pleas for help fell on deaf ears and how she thought magic–even dark magic–could bring back the one person who'd ever shown her real love and kindness. She takes a breath in an effort to keep her eyes at bay, remembering the way Jefferson explained it, remembering how she'd told herself that end would justify the means. "You didn't act alone and I know you don't like to think of yourself as a pawn…"
"Because I made the choices. In the end, everything I did, I chose to do."
"Maybe," he murmurs, "But you were led to those choices–that was done purposefully. You can't shoulder all of the blame for everything that happened because of them."
"Still…"
"Regina," he cuts in. "You were made into a what Rumplestiltskin needed you to be, to serve his needs, to meet his desires. No one told you that though. You were kept in the dark and starved of hope and love and anything that might save you and… and it wasn't until it was too late to go back that you realized it."
"So, what does that make me then?"
"A good person who made mistakes."
Again, she scoffs–but he presses a kiss to her hair as he closes the book and pulls her into a tight embrace. Part of her wants to pull away, part of her wants to fight it and insist that he's wrong–that she wasn't a pawn in someone else's game, that she hadn't been duped into doing terrible, unforgivable things. But instead, she curls into him, letting him hold her and comfort her–accepting the support she'd never before been offered.
When her eyes flutter open, it's morning.
Regina stretches out on the bed, extending her arms and legs as she yawns, feeling more rested than she usually does when she wakes. Rolling onto her side, she inhales deeply, taking in the soft, comforting scent of Robin's pillow–and as her eyes finally fluttered open, she realizes how much brighter the sun is.
Her eyes widen as she sits up, realizing that it's later than her usual wake-up time. Running her hands through her hair, she sit up, suddenly feeling a little panicked and disoriented. She can hear Robin talking to Henry and Roland and she smell eggs frying as she shove away the covers and scrambles out of bed, scrunching her hair and adjusting her pajamas as she pads toward the kitchen, where she's greeted by three warm smiles.
The boys are already dressed in their uniforms–wearing matching gray sweaters with their slacks–and ready for school, and Robin's standing at the stove, making them breakfast.
"Good morning," Robin calls, as he flips an egg. "We weren't sure if you'd be joining us."
"Well considering it's now two hours after I was supposed to get up," she replies, eyeing Robin as her hand brushes across Henry's back, "I can't imagine why not."
"You needed sleep," Robin says flatly, as bagel halves pop up from the toaster.
"And how would you know that?"
"Because you didn't sleep well last night," he murmurs, absently as he layers Canadian bacon and sauteed spinach onto the bagel halves. "And I know that–not only because I was lying right beside you–but because you slept right through your alarm."
"You could have woken me…"
"I tried," Robin muses as a grin stretches into his lips. "You grunted and rolled over."
"Oh…"
"And once I finally got your alarm to stop screaming…"
"It was really loud," Henry cuts in as Roland nods. "It woke us up."
She looks down at him. "Oh, and I just…"
"Rolled over at grunted," Robin says, as a grin tugs into his lips. "So I figured that meant you wanted to sleep, and when I was turning off your alarm your calendar popped up and said you didn't have anything scheduled until ten and," he drops an egg into the spinach and tops it off with the other half of the bagel, "I figured it was fate." Momentarily, his attention shifts to the boys. "Fried egg for you," he says, setting one of the plates in front of Roland and then the other in front of Henry. "And sunny side up for you."
A slight grin pulls onto her lips as she looks down at the breakfast sandwiches, thinking of the ones he gets at Granny's on days he has to open the store and remembering the sandwiches she made for him the first time she'd–albeit inadvertently–stayed the night.
"So, did you figure out my sauce?"
Robin blinks up at her as a sly grin edges onto his lips. "I… did not. Mine's not bad, but… it's not yours."
Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she nods. "It's horseradish mixed into the mayo."
Roland's eyes widen and he looks up at them, mid-chew. "Is that from actual horses?"
"No, sweetie," Regina laughs.
"And even if it were, it's not on that sandwich."
Robin turns back to the counter, quickly assembling two more breakfast sandwiches–and she reaches for the coffee, pouring a cup and inhaling the steam. She takes a long sip and closes her eyes, savoring it as she feels her annoyance over waking up late quickly dissipates.
They eat breakfast with the boys and Roland chatters on about it being scooter day in gym class–his favorite activity because he can pretend that his scooter is the Batmobile. Henry grins and giggles, explaining about the double block of language arts which means plenty of time for reading his new library book, Chasing Vermeer. When breakfast is through, Regina clears the plates while Robin helps the boys with their coats and backpacks–and she can't help but notice the way Roland watches Henry sling the backpack over one shoulder, and the does the same.
Henry gives her a quick kiss and Roland hugs her at the waist, then Robin ushers them out the door, promising her a quick return and urging her to take her time getting ready and ease into her day. She rolls her eyes but nods, stepping up to the window and watching as Robin lifts the boys into his truck–and a smile pulls onto her lips as she watches them go.
Taking a breath, Regina sips her coffee, not really knowing what to do with herself–she's never done well with downtime, preferring to keep herself focused and busy and not allow her thoughts to wander too far.
She ends up in the bedroom, curled up with her coffee on Robin's bed and with the storybook in her lap. She lets her fingers trail over the gold leaf lettering and she thinks back to what Robin said to her the night before not being solely responsible for the curse and the inevitable fall out–and she takes a breath, and opens the book, flipping quickly to a familiar story. Her breath catches in her chest, getting stuck as tears form in her eyes and she looks down at an illustration Daniel smiling in her direction. She's wearing her favorite blue riding jacket and long braid, and though her face isn't showing, she remembers how brightly she'd smiled and how light her heart felt–so light, she was certain that had she not been holding onto Rocinante's reigns, she'd have floated away.
The story should have been a comfort–that had been such a happy morning spent riding through the fields on her parents' estate and picnicking on the bank of a shallow little stream that ran through it. But that story, just like every other story with Daniel was tainted by its end. Her stomach lurches as she remembers that last look–when his eyes met hers and she'd seen the fear that resonated in them at the realization that he was about to die at her mother's hand, that he was about to die for having committed the crime of loving her.
A shaky breath escapes her as she blinks back her tears and she closes the the book, shoving it away from her as she struggles against her tears and memories. Daniel would have hated the person she became and she hates herself for the way she's sullied his memory.
Opening her eyes, she look around the room, looking for a way to distract to distract herself, not wanting to slip too far into the self-loathing that so easily found her. She finds a picture on Robin's dresser, tucked away in a corner, behind some lotion and a hoodie that should probably have been tossed into the hamper. Slowly, she reaches for it, staring at a picture that she only has a vague memory of taking, but nonetheless, a smile draws onto her lips as she remembers Roland holding up Robin's phone as they'd all sat in her kitchen, waiting for the oven timer to go off. They were huddled together and Robin's arm was around her as Henry leaned back against her and Roland's tongue poked through the gap where only a day before, a loose tooth had been.
She focuses on Robin–he looks so happy. His blue eyes are bright and his smile is broad, and he just looks so content, content to do something perfectly mundane, like make dinner with her on a Tuesday night. Sighing softly, she sets the picture back in it's place, pushing the lotion out of the way and tossing the hoodie into the hamper–and she finds herself thinking that Daniel would have liked Robin, and then she thinks what a strange yet comforting thought that is.
They rest of the day passes easily.
Robin returns from dropping off the boys, just as she's getting dressed and they spend the rest of the morning in what feels like slow-motion. He sits in the bathroom with her as she does her makeup flat irons her hair–which somehow managed to curl itself during the night–and he tells her about the upcoming events at his store he thinks Henry would enjoy. She nods and smiles, offering the occasional monosyllabic response as he suggests archery lessons now that the weather was improving, remembering how he'd enjoyed it the first few times he tried it in the fall.
And, it proves to be a wonderful distraction.
They drove together into town, parking in a lot between City Hall and Main Street–and Robin almost gleefully pointed out this meant she'd have to drive home with him, and at that point she and Henry should stay for dinner, and then, at that point, they should again stay the night. She'd laughed softly and nodded, pecking his lips before turning in the direction of her office–and once more, she was reminded of how lucky she was to have his love and support.
Her meetings quickly and before she realizes it, it's the end of the day–or what she decides she'll call the end of the day.
Regina's heels click against the tile as she heads back toward her office, ready to grab her jacket and be done for the day. She sighs as she sees her secretary perk up and a pink note sheet, waving toward her in an effort to catch her attention.
"Something tells me I have a phone call," she murmurs, her eyebrow arching as she plucks the paper from her secretary's fingers. "From… the elementary schools?" Her brow creases. "Is this about Henry? Why didn't you pull me out of the meeting?"
"Oh, well, Ms. Blanchard said that it wasn't urgent…"
"Whenever it's about my son," Regina says, her voice dropping an octave in a way that's almost chilling. "It's always urgent."
"She, um… she left a voicemail…" Regina blinks. "I think it's on your personal…"
"You think?"
"I…"
Regina sighs, audibly annoyed at her secretary as her heart rate quickens and she turns away from her office. She walks quickly as she dials her voicemail. She's nearly out of the building when it connects and she can feel her mouth going dry with anticipation. She glances in the direction of the clock as she exits the building, noting that it's just after three and the school day has ended–and then, when it finally connect, her annoyance piques because all she hears is static and a few muffled words.
Her pace quickens as she walks in the direction of the elementary school, her stomach churning with worry as worst case scenarios bounce through her head–and by the time she arrives, she's convinced she'll find Henry sitting in the nurse's office with a broken arm and a bloodied lip.
But when she arrives that's not at all where she finds him.
He's sitting in the library at a table, working through math problems using brightly colored blocks. There's a little girl sitting with him–Paige, maybe–and they're she's helping him, pointing to blocks and as Henry looks between them and his paper. And he's fine–he's absolutely fine.
She feels her shoulders relax as relief washes over her and a soft grin pulls onto her lips, and for just a moment, she's content to just stand there and watch.
And then, she hears the high-pitched laugh of Mary Margaret Blanchard.
Her lips part as she watches Robin's arm cross over his chest, as he nods, obviously in the middle of a conversation with Mary Margaret. She laughs again and this time, so does he–and she feels an odd feeling stirring in her chest, noting how familiar and comfortable they seem with one another. She's quick to realize that it's not jealousy she feels–Robin is one of the few things she's sure of in her life–but it's something else altogether, something else that feels uncomfortable.
Robin's head dips forward and his finger press into his brow as Mary Margaret's cheeks flush a bit–and it's clear this isn't a random conversation about curriculum or a student, but a personal conversation and the sort of conversation one would have with a friend. And again, she feels that odd sensation stirring in her chest.
She thinks about turning around and going back outside to wait for Henry to finish–there's no real reason for her to interrupt any of it; but then, she remember that fuzzy voicemail and her curiosity is piqued because while Henry appears to be fine, the voicemail was left and it was left for a reason. Her stomach flutters bit and without thinking, she steps into the library, wondering if there was another situation with Matty or perhaps another child or maybe he'd really struggled with the math lesson or…
"Mayor Mills!" Mary Margaret calls out, her voice a little too bright as she waves. "It's so nice to see you."
Regina bristles as a tight smile pulls onto her lips. "Ms. Blanchard, hello." Her eyes slide to Robin and he looks too amused.
"What brings you by?"
"Well, I got your voicemail… sort of." She pauses, glancing toward Robin as her eyes narrow. "But if you're in the middle of…"
"No, no," he cuts in, his blue eyes glittering with amusement. "You're not interrupting anything. Mary Margaret was just telling me how much she's enjoying visiting her John Doe and how wonderful you new Hospital Visitation Program is." He nods. "I think she's trying to rope me into volunteering."
"I see…"
"She could just hug you for selecting her to be a part of it."
Regina's eyes remain fixed on Robin and Mary Margaret smiles brightly. "I think he liked the poems."
"I'm… so glad."
"Oh! But the voicemail," Mary Margaret says, her cheeks flushed and her voice flustered, obviously wanting to shift the conversation away from her crush on the comatose patient. "I just wanted to let you know that Henry had a better day."
"Oh… I'm… I'm so glad to hear that," Regina says, her demeanor changing as she glances back at Henry.
"In fact, I think he's made a new best friend." Regina blinks as she turns back to her. "Paige is adopted, too," Mary Margaret confesses, her voice dropping slightly. "I think she can Henry bonded over that. They've always been friendly, but…" Regina feels a grin forming on her lips. "Today was different and it was nice to see."
"Paige is… the girl he had to dance with."
"Yes!"
"He likes her."
"She's a sweet girl," Mary Margaret confides. "Funny and smart… a wonderful student."
"And you… just called to tell me about it?"
Mary Margaret nods and Regina feels her heart flutter with appreciation–and before she can offer her gratitude or even fully process it, Mary Margaret's eyes shift past her as she notices a student raising his hand, needing her attention. She takes a step toward him, and then stops turning back as warm grin edges onto her lips and she glances between Robin and Regina. "I know we don't know each other very well, Mayor Mills, but I just wanted to say how glad I am to see you so happy these days."
"Henry's brought more joy into my life than I ever knew was possible."
A grin twists onto her lips and her eyes slide to Robin. "I don't just mean Henry," she says as she looks back at Regina. "It's always nice when good people find happiness together."
Regina's eyes widen as her and her brows arch and even beneath his stubble, she can see his cheeks slightly flushing. "Why do I get the impression you weren't just talking about her crush on a certain John Doe?"
"Well, today that's all we were talking about…"
"Today," she repeats. "There have been… other conversations?"
"Several, actually…"
"Oh…"
"And you… might come up every now and then." Robin chuckles softly as her lips purse. "We work together, Regina. It's only natural that we'd talk. It's nothing."
"I realize that I just… didn't realize that you were… so friendly with her."
"You're not jealous…"
"No," she's quick to say. "I just… need time to process… that you and Mary Margaret are friends and that you failed to mention that for so long."
He nods as a tight smile pulls onto his lips. "We also went on an absolutely disastrous date once upon a time," he offers, somewhat abruptly as her eyes widen. "You should ask me about it sometime. I think you'd be amused." Robin laughs softly as he reaches out and gives her hand a soft, reassuring squeeze. "Okay, well, I've got to make rounds and make sure everyone's on task," he says, his fingers rubbing over the back of her hand. "Are you still planning to come over for dinner?"
She nods. "I just have to stop by my house and grab a couple of things."
"Oh?"
"Your spice cabinet is awfully sparse."
"It is," he admits, as a chuckle rises into his voice. "But you've met my son, so you can understand why."
She nods and grins, turning his hand in hers and giving it a tight squeeze, silently reassuring him that she's not upset. Leaning in, she presses a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek and slips out of the library, unnoticed by Henry. She laughs a little as she wonders just how disastrous that date was and she thinks of wide-eyed Snow White singing to birds and telling dull stories about horseback riding. As she leaves the elementary school and heads toward Main Street and eventually Mifflin, her head swims with thoughts, mostly surrounding what to make for dinner on a warm spring day.
When she reaches her house, she fishes out her key, unlocking her door as she decides on some sort of toasted sandwich and a pasta salad. She steps inside and drops down her keys on the table in the foyer–and just as she steps away from it and moves toward the stairs, her shoe slides against something on the floor. She manages to keep her balance and her heart leaps, and when she looks down, she notices a piece of folded paper sticking out from underneath her shoe. Muttering a slew of hushed expletives, she crouches to pick up the paper. Her brow creases as she looks at it, turning it over in her hands as she examine the unfamiliar note–an old parchment-type paper that's sealed with wax. She feels her jaw tighten as her finger slips under the seal, ripping it open and unfolding it–and then, her heart beat quickens, beating wildly, as a sharp gasp escapes her and she reads the single line written in ink on the page. "Cora would be disappointed," it says.