Meant to Be Yours

by grayautumnsky13

On a weekend trip to New York City, Regina Mills finds a little boy named Henry living on the street after running away from an abusive foster home.

30. Chapter 30

Regina takes a breath as she feels her eyelids twitch, and though she's not quite ready to wake up and face a new day–particularly the one awaiting her–for just a brief, feeling moment, she feels completely at ease.

Henry is tucked beneath her arm, his head resting against his shoulder as he sleeps–safe and secure. Every now and then, she feels him move–shifting himself, but never quite pulling away from her–and it makes her smile. She does her best not to think of how close she'd come to losing him mere hours before, and she does her best not to consider what that would have been like–for his shoes not to be scattered on the stairs or his toothbrush creating a little puddle on the counter, for his jacket not to be tossed carelessly across the back of a chair in the living room and the coffee table not to be littered with his favorite comic books. In months since Henry had come to live with her, he'd turned her world upside down– he gave her life purpose and meaning, and he added so much life to an otherwise lifeless existence.

She smiles softly to herself as she cuddles him a little closer, hugging her arm around him and nuzzling her cheek against his 's warm and his rhythmic breaths remind her that he's really there with her, that she didn't lose him and that no matter what happens when the sun rises, she'll still have Henry–and really, that's all that matters to her.

Drawing in a long, deep breath, she breathes in in the soft smell of his shampoo–it's a distinctive soapy smell mixed together with a subtle hint of coconut and pineapple.

And pine…?

Blinking her eyes open, she lifts her head and squints, trying to focus in the dark–and, just barely, she can see Robin, hovering at the threshold of Henry's door.

"Hey… what are you doing here? I thought you weren't going to back until morning."

"Well, it is morning," Robin whispers as he comes into the room. "Technically."

"It's still dark."

"I know, and I didn't want to wake you, but I–"

"What time is it?"

"About half past four," he says, lowering himself down onto the edge of the bed. "I just wanted you to know I was here, in case you woke up and h–"

"You haven't slept," she cuts in, lifting her head as she pulls herself up a little to get a better look. "You haven't slept since you left here."

Robin draws in a tentative breath. "No…"

"Robin…"

"But the important thing is that you and Henry were able to get some sleep," he tells her, grinning softly as his fingers press into her hip. "You two were long overdue for a full night's sleep." For a moment, she hesitates, unsure if she actually wants to know and not quite ready to give up the content little bubble she and Henry have created. "Go back to sleep," he says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "Roland's sleeping in his room, and I'm going to go downstairs and… figure out how to make those butterbeer pancakes I mentioned yesterday."

Nodding, she bites down on her lip. "How bad is it?"

"What?"

"The curse breaking… I assume that's why you haven't slept."

"Ah…" he murmurs, sighing as he shakes his head. "People are confused."

"Is that a nice way of saying angry?"

"No, they're… mostly just really confused by everything," he insists. "It's a lot to take in and those memories just… hit them unexpectedly. It's a lot to process and a lot of people are trying to find family and friends and…" He grins as his fingers knead at her hip. "Granny stayed open all night, and people have been using it as a sort of meeting place."

"That's… good," she says, not quite understanding the feeling that settles in pit of her stomach. "That's good that Granny can… offer that."

He nods. "Were you serious about having a town hall meeting today?"

"I… think so," she replies, blinking a couple of times as she remembers suggesting it in a passing comment that she'd given very little thought to. "I hadn't quite… decided what to do about all of this, but I guess time is a luxury I don't really have."

"Well, I think it'd be a good idea," Robin tells her in a plain voice, as if giving an opinion on what earrings she might wear. "I think it'd be helpful for people to see you, and be reminded that you broke the curse and wanted this to end… that you're not the same woman they feared in the Enchanted Forest all those years ago."

"Henry broke the curse."

"Because of ,you," he says, his fingers pressing into her hip as a grin edges onto his lips. "Regina, you made him believe in love and magic and… he could never have broken that curse if it weren't for you." She nods–not pointing out the irony in statement, not pointing out that there wouldn't have been a curse at all had she not chosen to cast it, not pointing out that their wrath is deserved. "Okay," he sighs, pulling himself away. "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you guys up when breakfast is ready."

She nods again as he leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips, and she smiles as he waits for her to lay back down. Robin pulls the blanket up around her and Henry, and her heart warms as he quickly strokes the back of his fingers over Henry's cheek before offering her a quick wink before disappearing down the hallway.

Drawing in a long breath, she tries to relax–but no matter what, she can't shake the growing sense of dread that fills her. Her neck and shoulders suddenly feel tight, and there's tightening knot at her core as she thinks of all the people she hurt in her quest to get revenge on Snow White.

For months, Robin has insisted the curse was never really that bad, and that because everyone had the basics or the essentials–a place to live, a job that allowed them to pay their rent and buy goods–their lives weren't as miserable as they could have been. He argued that while people might not have known who they were–not exactly–they had their family and friends, and that even though, every year, when the curse reset itself, they had to start over, most people were able to live fulfilling lives. And maybe, for some, that was true–but it didn't take away what her intention had been, that she'd wanted to hurt them–and she of all people knew just how painful and empty it felt to completely lose your sense of self.

After all, that's what had happened to her.

When she'd been forced to marry the king, it hadn't mattered to her that she had maids to take care of her or that there was a roof over her. She hadn't been grateful for any of that–she hadn't wanted it, and came to resent it as she felt identify slipping further and further away from her. She became someone she didn't recognize and her life became one she'd never imagined herself living. Her choices stopped being her own, and she'd come to a point where she didn't even recognize her own motivation. For years, she'd been lost in a fog–trapped and constantly fighting.

She understood what everyone in Storybrooke was feeling–and she doubted it was really confusion. They were angry, and their anger was justified. She'd taken something from them that they could never quite get back. She'd taken their identities and twisted them, and they hadn't gotten a say. She'd took from them what was taken from her, and for years, she'd stood back idly and done nothing to help them.

It was painful, almost, to see the way Robin had looked at her when he insisted that Henry was able to break the curse because of her–and while, she could concede that to be true, her intentions weren't nearly as pure as he made them seem.

Before Henry it never occurred to her that she could somehow break her own curse–mostly because she didn't care enough to consider it–and even now, her motives were selfish…

With a sigh, her eyes open and once more she looks to Henry, cuddled into her side and sleeping soundly. She smiles a little as she slowly starts to pull away, careful not to wake him.

The cool air hits her legs and she shivers a little as she readjusts Henry's blanket before padding into the hall toward her own room. She grabs her robe and ties it around herself and slips her feet into a pair of backless slippers–and as she does, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

For a moment, she just stands there, staring at her reflection and wondering if what Robin said is actually true–wondering if she's really not the same woman who was so feared in the Enchanted Forest. It was true that the curse had tamed her–year after year of a dull existence had tamped down the anger, and making the choice to give Henry when he was just a baby had humbled her. It had made her realize her inadequacies and it gave her the push she'd needed to reach out for help–and those therapy sessions had helped her to cope with her difficult and painful past, had given her options other than lashing out, had taught her to quell the darkness that lived inside of her–and it had brought her to a place where she could finally accept love back into her life.

Yet, all of that was under the fog of the curse–and now, that fog had been lifted.

Looking away, she pushes herself out of the room and down the stairs, and she smiles gently at the sight of Robin hunched over a cookbook, looking unbelievably confused.

"Am I interrupting?"

Blinking, he looks to her. "Never."

"I suddenly can't sleep…"

"I knew I shouldn't have–"

"No," she cuts in. "It's not because of you," she tells him with a sigh as she joins him on the couch, smiling as his arm folds around her shoulders. "It's… me."

"Uh oh, that sounds like a bad break-up line."

Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head. "Don't even go there…"

"Okay, okay," he says, a chuckle rising up behind his words before he presses a quick kiss to her hair. "How about you tell me why you can't sleep then… tell me what's bothering you. I assume it's something to do with… facing the world again?"

She nods as her eyes fall to his coffee cup baring the logo of Granny's diner. "You were there," she murmurs softly. "You were at Granny's."

"I was."

"So, you saw people…"

"I wanted to help, however I could…" He shrugs. "I'm not sure I was much help, but I wanted to try."

"And on a scale from one to I should expect to be burned at the stake tomorrow, how bad is it?" She hold her breath as she turns her head to look at him. "Be honest." He nods and for a moment, he doesn't say anything. "It's that bad," she breathes out as she looks away.

"No, it's just… they want answers."

"Answers from me."

"Yeah, mostly from you…"

"Mostly?"

"Well, there are… different camps of people," Robin says in a tentative voice. "There are people who are angry and want to hear from you, then there are people who are just sort of lost and confused by the whole thing… and also want to hear from you, and then… there's… there's a group that thinks Snow White should be helping in some way."

"They always loved her…"

"Maybe," Robin murmurs. "But she's not there."

"What?" Regina turns, looking back at him. "What do you mean she's not there?"

"She and David are… at the hospital."

"Well, they just found each other again, and… I'd imagine that after laying in a hospital bed for almost thirty years hasn't exactly been good for David's muscles."

Laughing softly, Robin shakes his head. "That's probably true… and… you're defending them."

"Well… to say they should be dealing with the mess I created…"

"…in their names…."

"Regardless, to say they should be dealing with it seems unfair."

"I agree, but not everyone else does." Taking a breath, he presses a kiss to her temple. "Regina, not everyone is angry about the curse. There are some people who are just glad it's over and want to focus on getting their lives back–and I think, no matter how anyone's feeling, what they want now is leadership."

"From me?" She asks, arching her eyebrow skeptically. "They never wanted me as their queen. Why would they want me now?"

"Because you're a good mayor and they know that."

At that, she scoffs. "Planning a few fun town events doesn't exactly erase years of terror."

"And that's why you need to show them how much you've changed–meet them head on and listen to them, answer what you can and show them you can be the leader they need right now."

"What if I can't be? What if… I haven't changed, or haven't changed enough?" Her breath catches in her throat and she feels her jaw tighten. "What if I walk into that town hall meeting and I lose my temper? What if… my magic becomes uncontrollable or I can't resist making some snide remark? What if–"

"Regina," he interjects. "You have changed. You wouldn't be so worried about this if you hadn't." Blinking at him, she nods. That's something she hadn't quite considered before. "Besides, I'll be there the whole time."

"I was… sort of hoping you'd stay with Henry. I don't want to leave him and–"

"Granny has already offered to watch him."

"What?"

"She said she'd watch him for you… that we can bring him by the diner and she'll make him a milkshake and some chili-cheese fries, and let him play whatever he wants on the jukebox."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because," Robin begins in an easy voice, "Like I said, not everyone in this town is against you. You have allies. You have people who are willing to hear your side of things, who haven't assumed the worst and are willing to give you a second chance."

"And… Granny is one of them?" Robin nods as a grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. "And… you'll be there to make sure the…I keep it together and don't do something crazy?"

"I'll be there."

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me," he murmurs as she shifts again and settles back against him. "But there is something I want to ask you."

"Okay, go ahead…"

"What is butter extract?"

She blinks and then turns, looking at him with narrow eyes. "What?"

"Butter extract," he repeats. "Every single recipe for these pancakes calls for it, and I have no idea what that means." He blinks. "And I already told Roland this is what we're having, so I regular pancakes would just be a complete and utter disappointment."

"Oh," she murmurs as she feels a laugh bubbling up from her chest. "It's just butter flavoring."

"Why not just use butter then?"

"You could… you'd just need to add a lot of butter."

"Oh… well… how much is a lot?"

"Too much," she tells him with a little laugh. "You can usually substitute it for vanilla extract. I have some in the cupboard." Settling back against him, she shakes her head and suddenly, her eyes feel heavy. "I'll help you make them," she says as a soft yawn escapes her. "I just… need to do something before breakfast."

"Sleep?"

"Well, yes, but… I had something else in mind."

"Oh?"

"I need to go see David and Mary Margaret."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No," she murmurs back in reply. "This… this is something I need to do on my own."

Regina stands at the end of the long hallway that leads to David's room, firmly rooted in her place as she stares forward and into the quiet corridor. The sun's just barely risen, marking the official start to morning. It peeks through the windows, shining and glistening down on the white tile floors, and making the stark and sterile hospital feel warm and inviting. There's no one around, the halls are empty–even Nurse Ratched has left her post. Looking around, she assumes that behind the closed doors, patients are still asleep–asleep and completely unaware of the new reality they'll be waking up to. For a moment, she lets her eyes linger on one of the doors–trying to remember who occupies the rooms and why, and for the life of her, she can't remember… perhaps the patients represent some of the countless hearts in her vault, she wonders…

Drawing in a long breath, she shakes away the thought, deciding she'll deal with that particular dilema at a later time. Now, she had to deal with Snow White and Prince Charming–or whatever that meant.

Still, she finds herself rooted in place at the end of the long hallway, wringing her hands together as she contemplates what she's supposed to say to them. Robin tried to talk her through it and in the car, she'd tried to rehearse it the things they discussed. Yet no matter what. everything she could think to say fell flat, sounding hollow and forced or crass and insincere–and deep down, she knew that no matter what she said, it'd be met with deserved skepticism or even outright rejected… and that sentiment would be deserved.

Taking another breath, this time shorter and more decisive, she takes a tentative step forward, reminding herself that the reception of the apology didn't actually matter. It was something she had to do, something that would help her to move on. This wasn't about them, it was about her–they didn't have to accept her apology, but she did need to offer one.

For so long the two people at the end of the hall had occupied her every thought. She'd been jealous and so filled with hate for them that it clouded her every decisions. For years, she'd wanted them dead–or at least, that's what she let them think–and she'd set out to destroy their happiness. It'd been a game of cat-and-mouse, and she supposed, something that passed the time–and sadly, something that had given her some sort of twisted purpose.

As queen, she knew Leopold's subjects would never accept her. She wasn't the queen they wanted–and they'd long been indifferent toward her. In some ways, that had worked in her favor–she could go unnoticed. But then, slowly but surely, Leopold's grasp on her tightened. It was so odd to her how he could be so generous and caring toward everyone else, yet so cruel to her–and she'd spent years watching as he groomed his daughter to be queen. It was an odd thing to watch–a girl that was so much like her, so adored and cared for, and her cast aside and ignored. Looking back, she could see that her anger was displaced–she hadn't hated Snow White, she hated the circumstances she was in. But she couldn't lash out at a circumstance…

She smiles faintly at the sight of them as she reaches the doorway, but remaining just out of sight.

Mary Margaret is laying in the small hospital bed, her head on David's chest. His arm his folded around her and his cheek rests atop her head. They're cuddled up together, looking so comfortable as they sleep–and for a split second, she considers not waking them.

But that would defeat the purpose of being there–and that would be taking the easy way and she'd made a promise to herself that she wouldn't do that, not anymore…

Clearing her throat, she holds her breath and waits for them to stir–but the sound goes unnoticed. She does it again, and again, each time louder, but still neither David nor Mary Margaret wakes. With a loud sigh, she feels herself growing impatient as she shifts on her feet, just wanting this moment to be over… to be over so they can all move on.

Rasping her knuckles against the frame of the door, she watches as they stir–first Mary Margaret and then David. Biting down on her bottom lip, her heart starts to beat faster as their eyes flutter–and then, David flunches, gasping as he presses himself back against the pillows and hugs Mary Margaret tighter.

"Stay back," he calls out, struggling against fear and grogginess. "Don't take another step."

"I won't," she's quick to reply, holding up her hands. "I'm not here to make trouble."

"It's okay, David," Mary Margaret says, pressing her palm to his chest as she lifts her head and looks directly at Regina. "She doesn't have magic here. No one does."

For some reason, the comment stings–or perhaps, it's just the tone. But she shrugs it off and tries to smile as a show of goodwill. "Actually, I do, but I'm not going to… use it on you or… anyone… and… that's beside the point," she murmurs, grimacing as she fumbles with her words. Taking a breath, she tries again. "I… just wanted to see how the two of you were doing… and…"

"Bedridden and in need of intense physical therapy," David cuts in in a biting tone. "Thanks to you."

"Right…" She feels her jaw clench, but again, pushes away the impulse to lash out and say something she'll only regret later on. "Look, I know that you two have no reason to trust me, but I… I just… I wanted to say that I'm sorry and…" She sighs as her voice trails off, and she shifts uncomfortably. "I tried to ruin your lives because I… I was jealous and miserable and… I realize now that you weren't to blame for–"

"But you also brought us back together," Mary Margaret says in a small, barely audible voice. "You're the reason I found him again. Had you not done that I'd be… out there, searching."

"Well, my intentions weren't… completely pure," Regina says, as a little smile tugs up at the corner of her mouth. "I was hoping that… maybe you two could break the curse."

"Your curse," David scoffs, looking skeptically between Regina and Mary Margaret. "You wanted to break your own curse."

"I did… for my son." She shrugs her shoulders. "I wanted to give him… a normal life, and… well… that's not really something that's possible… or something that was possible here, as things were."

"You have child…"

"Henry," she says with a nod, not ready to say anymore about who her son really to them, not quite ready to share him. "He… changed me."

"That's not true," Mary Margaret says as her eyes meet Regina's. "You changed before you adopted him."

"Maybe…"

"No, it's true. You're not the same person you were when you cast the curse," she says, almost breathlessly as she shakes her head. "I remember now. I watched you change from… an angry, hateful person to…" a soft smile draws onto her lips, "The sort of person who actually listens to each and every person who speaks at those long, boring town hall meetings you hold and the sort of person hands out snow cones to kids at the Fourth of July Fireworks… and the sort of person bakes cupcakes for a bunch of third graders on the first day of school." She nods. "Sort of like the person you used to be."

Regina nods as she feels a lump rising in her throat. "Well, regardless, I just… I wanted you to know that I am sorry for what I did to you… and all the things I tried to do to you." Swallowing hard, she reaches into her pocket, slowly pulling out an envelope. She holds it up so that David's skeptical eyes can see that it's harmless and takes a few tentative steps forward. "I know that there isn't anything I can do to make it up to you, but…" She sighs as she holds the envelope out to Mary Margaret. "I hope this can help."

"What… is it?"

She feels a soft grin edge onto her lips–unforced and genuine. "Inside that envelope, you'll find the contact information–a phone number and the home address–for your daughter. Her name is Emma Swan and she lives in Boston. And, I know that it's not the same as having raised her, but there are a few pictures inside of her over the years and…" She shrugs as Mary Margaret takes the envelope. "I hope it'll… help in someway."

For a moment, she just stands there, watching as Mary Margaret and David stare at the envelope. Both of them seem speechless and even a little stunned, and both are completely overwhelmed. She can only imagine that once their memories returned, once they'd had their little reunion with each other, that one of the first questions they had was about their long lost daughter. Her chest tightens a little thinking of it, thinking of the absolute terror she'd felt the day before when it seemed that Henry might be lost to her forever, and she can't fathom years of it or waking one morning to realize she'd missed out on his entire life.

"I should go," she murmurs quietly, suddenly feeling even more out of place as Mary Margaret slips her finger beneath the envelopes seal. "I have a town hall meeting this afternoon that I'm sure will be… quite lively." At that, she nods and turns away.

"Regina," David's voice calls just as she reaches the threshold, forcing her to turn back into the room. "Thank you for this," he tells her in a soft, sincere voice as he holds up one of the pictures of Emma. "I mean it… thank you."

She nods again as her breath hitches in her throat, and she feels something indescribable stirring at her core. She offers them both a slight smile that neither of them see before continue down the long corridor as her thoughts once more shift.

As soon as she steps into the house, she can smell the butterscotch–and a soft smile edges onto her lips as she thinks of Robin and the butterbeer pancakes he was so determined to make for the boys. She kicks off her shoes and takes off her suit coat, rolling her neck and shoulders as she pads toward the kitchen. Her stomach is still in knots, but it helps to be home–home and near Robin and the boys, home and doing something completely normal, like making breakfast. Though her meeting with Charmings was quick and felt a little forced and awkward, it went better than expected–and she she hoped that would set the precedent for the rest of the day.

On the way home, she'd replayed it over and over again in her head, considering and over-analyzing every detail of the interaction. She thought about the tentative way Mary Margaret had spoke to her–not angry or accusing, but also not condoning–and she thought about David's sincere thank you at the end. She thought about all of the things she didn't say–things she wanted to say and maybe should have said–and even then, after all was said and done, she couldn't quite find the words.

It was frustrating, in a lot of ways, to feel so unsure–to grapple with absolutely every decision and to struggle with absolutely every word, to feel as though everyone were watching and waiting for an opportunity to find fault and attack. She wasn't used to this. Never as Queen had she cared much about what anyone thought and as mayor, it hadn't mattered because no one would remember any of it anyway.

But now, everything she did and said carried a particular degree of weight, there were consequences now–and in just a few short hours, she'd have to find the right words and say them to a crowd of more than two…

Henry's laugh rings out and she can't help but smile as she hears Robin reply in a teasing voice. She can't make out whatever it is that they're talking about it, but it sounds light-hearted and happy and so, so normal, the sort thing she'd hear on any given morning–and she finds herself clinging to it as she wonders if, just for a little while, she can manage to shift her attention to Robin and the boys and ignore the rest of the world, if only for her own sanity.

A warm smile edges onto her lips as she steps into the kitchen and spots Roland, leaning across the counter on one of the stools as he watches Henry and Robin making the butterscotch batter. His hair is messy and he's wearing a pair of Superman footed pajamas–and looking decidedly concerned. Peering around the corner, she watches as Robin helps Henry to measure out some flour, carefully ensuring that it's leveled before dropping it into a glass mixing bowl–and then, he hands Henry the measuring cup to do it again on his own.

"Do you want to help?" She asks as she comes up behind Roland, rubbing her hand over his back as Robin looks up and grins. "You can if you want to."

"I sneezed in the first batch of whipped cream… twice," he confesses as he turns to look up at her, offering her a guilty little lopsided grin. "They had to remake it… twice."

"Are you feeling okay?" She asks as her hands move to his cheeks, pressing her fingers against them to check for warmth. "You're not getting sick, are you?"

Roland's cheeks flush and he shakes his head, looking away bashfully. "No, no, nothing like that," Robin tells her as a chuckle rises into his voice. "He sneezed because he tried to smell the powdered sugar and breathed in a little too much… and then, he did it again." At that, Henry giggles and Roland's cheeks deepen to another shade of red. "So, he's done helping for now."

"But the third batch tasted the best," Henry tells them as he uses his finger to level off the measuring cup. "So, it wasn't all bad."

"I guess that's true…"

"And I got the lick the spoon the second time…and the third," Roland tells her. "It was best the third time."

"Where were you?" Henry asks, as drops in the second cup of flour, looking up as his eyes meet hers. "It's so early." His lip catches between his teeth. "I was worried that… that something… might have happened."

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, offering an apologetic grin. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"It's okay," Henry says. "Robin was here. He said you just had to run an errand." Henry blinks up and Robin and his brow creases. "At six-thirty in the morning."

Scooping up Roland, Regina pulls him into her lap as she settles onto the stool he'd been standing on and watches as Robin hands Henry a container of ricotta cheese to be measured, pointing at a specific mark on the measuring cup. "I… wanted to go and see Ms. Blanchard," she begins in a tentative voice. "There was something I needed to talk to her about."

"Oh," Henry murmurs as he pulls off the lid. "Is she still at the hospital visiting her friend?"

"She is…"

"Is he better?"

"He is," Regina says with a nod. "He's practically back to his old self." Her eyes shift to Robin as his brow arches curiously. "It was a… nice enough visit."

"That's good," Henry says easily as he carefully pours some cream into the bowl and takes the whisk that Robin hands him as his brow arches in her direction. "And I'm glad that her friend is doing better."

"Me too," Regina says as her fingers push through Roland's messy curls as the knot in her stomach begins to tighten. "But I don't want to talk about that now," she says decidedly, leaning in to press a kiss to his hair and grinning as he tips his head back so that her lips brush over his forehead. "I'd much rather make the butter syrup for those pancakes you two are working on." Her eyes shift to Robin and she laughs a little. "And if Roland promises not to sniff any of the ingredients, can he help?"

"I suppose so," Robin says, eyeing his son. "But if you have to sneeze…"

"I know, I know," Roland mumbles. "Look away and sneeze into my elbow."

Regina laughs as slides off of the stool and sets Roland back down on top of it. She gathers together the ingredients that Robin set aside for the syrup, making a quick quip about the butter extract and how he'd left it for her to use. He only rolls his eyes as she laughs and grabs a bowl from the cabinet, but as she turns, Robin catches her arm.

"Did things really go alright?" He asks in a low and barely audible voice. "Are you really alright?"

"It was fine," she tells him as she leans up onto her toes to peck his lips. "We'll talk about it after breakfast." Robin nods and his hand rubs gently over her arm before turning back to Henry and the butterscotch batter. She lifts Roland onto the counter and lays out the ingredients, smiling as he carefully examines each of them and his brow furrows at the butter extract–and thoughts of the Charmings and the looming town hall meeting drift away…

Despite a few hiccups with the food processor, the rest of the breakfast preparations go smoothly–and breakfast itself is filled with light-hearted laughter, and even a little bit of magic that had made the boys eyes go wide.

Magic felt different in this way–lighter and safer–and she liked that it could make Henry and Roland smile.

After breakfast, the boys settled in the living room with a video game–and she and Robin returned to the kitchen to clean up the butterscotch-y mess.

For awhile, they didn't say much, focusing instead on the washing out bowls and dishes, wiping down countertops and cleaning Roland's fingerprints off the refrigerator door. When she reaches for the last of the plates, she feels her shoulders tensing and her stomach starts to churn, not quite ready for the little bubble of breakfast with her family to burst.

"You've been washing the plate for ten minutes," Robin murmurs as he comes up behind her, his fingers pressing into the small of her back. "Even if it was Roland's, I think it's clean now."

"The whole thing was covered in syrup," she says, grinning as she looks back at him from over her shoulder.

"As were his hands…"

"The pancakes seemed to be a hit though…"

"Mm, well, I'd expect nothing less from a recipe that included both copious amounts of sugar and Harry Potter," he says, as his fingers press a little more firmly at the small of her back. "It's after breakfast now," he tells her. "So, tell me, how did things really go at the hospital with…" He stops as she turns to him, and his head tips to the side. "Do we call her Mary Margaret still? Or is it Snow White again."

Involuntarily, her eyes roll. "I'm sticking with Mary Margaret, for now," she says as she turns off the water. "I never could stand her real name."

"Is is rather…"

"Stupid?"

"Well…"

She sighs and shakes her head. "It was fine, though," she tells him, as she turns herself and leans back against the edge of the sink. "I think David thought I'd set him on fire at any moment, but… I apologized and gave them Emma's contact information and some pictures, and…" She shrugs, "Then I left."

"Short and sweet…"

"And uncomfortable."

"Well…"

She sighs, "It was better than I thought it'd be." A little grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. "I… said that Henry changed me and Mary Margaret disagreed… she said that now that she has her memories, she can say that it started before Henry and…"

"She's right."

"Is she?"

"Regina," Robin cuts as she draws in a breath. "You haven't been the Evil Queen for a very long time. Storybrooke gave you a fresh start and you… took advantage of that. You worked through some things and you did your best to make amends where you could, to be better this time around." Her lip catches between her teeth as her eyes shift to meet his. "This whole town watched it happen."

"This whole town also watched me terrorize…"

"So, they've seen both sides," he interjects, not letting her finish the thought. "There are people on your side. Rely on them."

"You sound so sure about that."

"I am," he tells her easily. "And unlike you, I've actually spoken to a few of them since the curse breaks."

She sighs in concession and nods. "I'm still surprised I didn't run into anyone when I went to the hospital."

"Are you sure you didn't magic yourself there or… find an invisibility cloak or…"

She laughs a little and shakes her head. "No… I'm… trying not to do that."

"Not to use magic?" He asks as his brow creases. "Why not?"

"Well, it's… kind of addicting and…" She sighs and shakes her head, remembering how it had slowly but surely consumed her. "And I don't always like the person it makes me."

"Magic doesn't make you the person you are, Regina. It's just… a part of who you are." She looks away, shaking her head, thinking back to those early years of the curse and what a struggle it had been not to have magic. She remembers how her fingers would curl as she'd sneer at someone when she didn't get her way or something proved to be especially difficult, remembering the way she'd daydream about launching a fireball toward them or reaching into their chest and forcing things go her way. "Not all magic is dark."

"Mine is."

"I don't agree."

Blinking, she looks up at him. "I have a collection of hearts from people that…"

"You magic can be dark," Robin cuts in, shaking his head. "That doesn't mean it always is." Shaking her head, she tries to look away, but he tips her chin back and smiles. "Yesterday, your magic wasn't dark. Yesterday, when you saved your son, you weren't using dark magic. That came from a place of love, Regina. Not hate."

"I don't know. I certainly was feeling a lot of hate for some of the people in that room."

Robin nods. "But was that hate stronger than the love you felt for Henry?"

"No," she says easily as a soft grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. "You certainly seem to know a lot about the difference between dark and light magic."

"I've… done a bit of reading here and there."

"Stolen library books?"

"Borrowed."

Rolling her eyes, she laughs and shakes her head, then takes a step in. He pulls her into a hug as she draws in a breath. Her head rests on his shoulder and he rubs his hand over her back, and she finds herself wondering how she'd have gotten through the last weeks without his support.

"Okay," he murmurs as he takes a half step back. "Let's go relax for a little bit and… maybe figure out what it is you're going to say this afternoon?" She nods as his fingers fold down around hers, tugging her gently toward the living room–as thinks she's glad she'll never have to know what going through this without him would have been like.

Regina's breath catches in her chest as they step into the diner, and Robin and the boys walk to the counter. She stands there, watching as Henry and Roland climb up onto stools at the counter, and Robin leans against it as Granny comes out from the kitchen.

The diner isn't crowded–especially considering that it's lunchtime–but the few patrons have all stopped eating. Instead, they're all staring at her–as though waiting for something to happen. She tries to smile as a gesture of goodwill or perhaps a little reassurance, but she can't muster it–instead, all she can do is focus on their wide, fearful eyes. She looks at each of them and it's not until her eyes fall to a boy in Henry's class that she recognizes one of the faces. Her heart clenches when his hands start to tremble, and she finds herself wondering what she did to him…

"You might be a queen," Granny calls out, snapping her back into the present moment and turning her attention away from the boy. "But I call the shots around here, and I'm not paying to keep the sidewalk cool. So, it's in or out, no lingering in the doorway."

"Oh," she murmurs as she takes a step into the diner and lets the door close behind her. "Uh, sorry about that."

Granny offers her a quick wink as she makes her way to the counter, doing her best to ignore the other patrons eyes following her as she goes. After what seems like an eternity rather than just a few feet, she reaches the counter and Robin's arm slides around her as Granny grabs two menus and drops them down in front of the boys.

"I know I said milkshakes and chili-cheese fries," Granny begins. "But I was thinking you two should pick out some burgers or sandwiches to go with that." A grin pulls onto Regina's lips as Henry and Roland exchange smiles. "And for you," she says, turning her attention to Regina. "I've got something for you–on the house." Before Regina can even ask, Granny pulls a large styrofoam coffee cup from beneath the counter. "A little liquid courage for your town hall meeting."

"Thank you," she returns sincerely as she wraps her fingers around the warm cup. "But I have a feeling I'll need something stronger than coffee for this one."

A smirk edges onto Granny's lips. "Who says that's just coffee?"

Regina's eyes widen a little and she takes a sip–and immediately tastes the whiskey.

"Nothing for me?" Robin asks, chuckling softly as he looks to Granny. "I've got a town hall meeting, too."

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Help yourself," she tells him. "You usually do anyway." At that, Regina chuckles around Robin shrugs and rounds the counter, helping himself to a cup of coffee and some flavored creamer as Granny turns her attention to the boys. Regina watches as she carefully takes down their orders–and when she reaches into her purse to try to pay for the food and coffees, Granny shakes her head. "It's on the house," she tells her, offering a quick wink before disapearing back into the kitchen to start on the boys' orders.

"Come on," Robin murmurs softly as he comes back to the other side of the counter and takes her hand, "We should be going."

"Yeah," she says reluctantly. "I guess we should." Leaning in she presses a kiss to Henry's cheek, the another to the top of Roland's head as Robin reminds them to behave–and Granny tsks loudly and rolls her eyes, as if two little boys could never misbehave.

"That wasn't so bad," Robin says, as he holds the door open for her and they step out onto the sidewalk. "Granny was… Granny."

"Yeah," Regina says with a nod, looking back over her shoulder at the wide-eyed boy sitting with his mother, still watching her with terrified eyes. "But did you see everyone else? Did you see that little boy?" Robin's gaze follows her and she sighs. "He looked absolutely petrified."

"He probably only knows you from stories he's heard."

"Or…"

"Regina, don't do that," Robin says as he turns her away from the window. "Don't beat yourself up over things that may or may not have happened three decades ago." She nods and takes another sip of the coffee, breathing it in and holding it in her mouth as they make their way toward City Hall.

With each step her stomach tightens, and little by little, she feels her resolve dwindling. Her hand tightens around Robin's as they reach the front entrance, and just like she was the hospital earlier that morning, she feels rooted in place.

Turning to her, he takes a breath and with his free hand, he cups her cheek. "You can do this."

"I don't have much of a choice," she says, as her eyes meet his. "The whole way here, I've been thinking about that offer you made… the one about leaving Storybrooke if the curse didn't break, and starting over again somewhere else, just me and you and Henry and Roland…I keep thinking about that."

"Ah," he murmurs softly. "If I recall, I suggested that a few times, and each time, you were adamantly opposed to it."

"I'm known for my poor decision making."

A little grin edges up onto his lips. "You made the right call, Regina."

"It doesn't feel like it."

With a sigh, he pushes his hand into her hair and draws her closer, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "The sooner we go in there, the sooner this will all be over."

"Over sounds nice."

"Come on," he says, as he pulls back, giving her hand a gentle tug. "Let's go."

Reluctantly, she follows him in–and her mouth goes dry as she hears the loud buzz of voices coming from the meeting room. Just by the sounds of it, it's a full house–a full house of people waiting for answers she only hopes that she can provide and a full house of people waiting to lash out at her. She feels a warm tingling at her fingertips, and she takes a breath, doing her best to ignore it.

Drawing in a long breath, she pushes against the door and swallows hard as she steps into the room, once more thinking of the boy in the diner, looking at her as if he were looking at some kind of horrifying monster. Looking around, she notices a few faces–people she's seen everyday for the past few decades, people who delivered her mail and rang up her groceries, neighbors and city workers, and people she'd just merely crossed paths with. Each of them, though, have the same hard-eyes and tight jaws, no longer offering a courteous grin or nod to their mayor.

"Regina!" Graham's voice calls as he steps out of the crows. "What the hell!?" He takes a few long strides and aimless strides toward her, eyeing her as he near, and once more, she swallows hard, thinking back to all the terrible things she did to him–especially before the curse, things he now has a memory of. Again, she feels that familiar tingling in her fingers and she balls her hands into fists in an effort to stop it–and in an effort to stop herself.

Her eyebrows arch as Robin steps forward, putting a physical barrier between her and Graham. Graham only scoffs as shakes his head, and she sighs at the smell of rum–his favorite coping mechanism. "What is this?" He asks, looking past Robin and directly at her. "You brought a bodyguard?"

"Does she need one?"

"Robin, it's… it's okay… he's just…"

"Entitled to be angry," Robin cuts in, looking directly at Graham, "But not entitled to drunkenly berate her in front of a room full of people."

"What do you know about it?" Graham demands, shifting his attention to Robin. "She's entitled to nothing, not after what she–"

"I want to hear from her," an unfamiliar and faceless voice pipes up from the crowd, causing everyone's attention to shift, and giving her the opportunity to slip away from Graham.

Nervously, she makes her way to the front of the room and her jaw tightens as a lump rises into the back of her throat, and she has to remind herself not let her emotions–or her magic–get the best of her. For a moment, she just stands there, letting her eyes linger over everyone before they finally come to rest on Robin, who gives her an encouraging little wink and a nod.

"I know that a lot of you are… confused and angry, and probably have a thousand questions that you want me to answer," she begins as she leans back against the edge of the table where the town council usually sits at these sorts of meetings. "And, I promise you, I'll try to answer them, but…"

"Can we go back?" Someone calls out. "Can we go back home?"

Catching her lip between her teeth, and shakes her head. "I… I don't think so."

"Why not?" Someone else yells out, as a loud murmur overtakes the room. "You brought us here! You should be able to take us back!"

"It's not that…"

"We didn't choose this place. You did. Why should we be stuck here?"

"You owe it to us to–"

"I can't do the impossible," she said, elevating her voice over the crowd. "But I can help you all to make the best of the life you have here."

"Good, I don't want to go back," Ruby says, loud enough for everyone around her to hear it. "I like Storybrooke… and electricity and aspirin and…" She grins, "Not having to chase down my food."

Another murmur goes through the crowd, and a appreciative grin edges onto Regina's lips as she makes eye-contact with Ruby.

Clearing her throat, she pushes away from the table and does her best to ignore the tightening knot at her core. "Listen, I know that you have questions, but before I try to answer them, there's something I need you all to hear." Taking a breath, she waits for the room to quiet and when it does, she again finds herself looking to Robin, who once more offers her an encouraging nod. "I need you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you all got caught in the crossfire. For most of you, this wasn't personal. I wasn't trying to hurt you, but that doesn't mean you didn't get hurt–and for that, I'm sorry. I was…" She sighs and shakes her head, closing her eyes momentarily as she thinks back to the night she cast the curse and how desperate and alone she felt, how she just wanted to start over. "I guess it doesn't matter what I was thinking or feeling back then–and I'm sure you can all fill in the blanks with whatever colorful adjectives and expletives you choose–" At that, a little chuckle vibrates through the crowd, and she feels a little grin tug up at the corner of her mouth and the knot in her stomach loosens. "What does matter is that… I'm not that person anymore, and even though I can't undo the curse and I can't take you home, I can try to help you build a new life here."

She nods as she looks around the room, and she can't help but notice that people–even the angry man who challenged her a moment before about returning to the Enchanted Forest–seem to be listening. "It won't be easy, and we're all going to have to make adjustments, but we can muddle through it together." A soft smile forms on her lips as her eyes settle on Robin at the back of the crowd. "If there's one thing this curse has taught me, it's that it's a lot easier to get through the really difficult times if you have someone helping you, if you have someone you can rely on, someone who's in your corner…" Taking a breath, she looks back at the crowd. "Let me be that person for you. Let me help you. Let me make it up to you."

"And why should we trust you?" Calls a voice she only faintly recognizes as one of the dwarves. "Of all people, why do you deserve our trust?"

Her lips part to respond, but before she can, another voice replies. "Because you and I both know that she's changed. We all watched it happen, slowly but surely, little by little." Mary Margaret says as she steps into the town hall meeting room. "She's not the Evil Queen anymore and she hasn't been for a very long time."

Once again, Regina feels a lump rising into her throat and this time, she feels warm tears brimming in her eyes as she stares at Mary Margaret for a moment–and then, taking a breath, she looks back to the crowd.

"You said you had questions," she begins, this time feeling calmer. "So, let's have them…"

The town hall meeting finally ended just after six–and by the time they got to Granny's to pick up the boys, she was completely exhausted. The plan had been to pick some take out from Granny's and eat it while they all watched a movie and relaxed–but the boys had other plans, and she could hardly say no their big smiles and wide, hopeful eyes… or request of fajitas and rice.

Chuckling softly at her lack of resolve against the boys, Robin ordered them pieces of flan for dessert. Regina gathered the boys' things and thanked Granny, who nodded and winked, and told her the boys had been a pleasure. It seemed like she wanted to say more–likely to ask how the town hall meeting had gone–but she didn't, and then they were on their way.

It was an easy enough meal to prepare–and one that Roland smothered in too much cheese and sour cream. After dinner, Robin plated the slices of flan and sent the boys into the living room to choose a movie, and it took her only a couple of minutes to accept that using magic to clean a messy kitchen was innocent enough–and would allow her to finally sit down.

Henry and Roland chose Homeward Bound, and after everyone's desserts were finished, they climbed up on the couch between Robin and Regina. Roland laid across Robin's lap and Henry cuddled into her side–and as they watched the movie, she couldn't help but realize, for the first time in what seemed like forever, she wasn't worried about anything. There weren't any secrets looming over her or an impending sense of dread washing over her whenever she wasn't distracted. She was calm and at peace with herself–she was simply there, present within a moment, enjoying time with her family–and it was such a relief.

"I think they're asleep," Henry whispers as he looks up at her.

A grin tugs onto her lips as she looks to Robin and Roland on the opposite end of the couch. Robin's head had fallen back against the couch cushion with his mouth open and his arms loosely folded around Roland–who's leaning back against him in an adorably similar position. "Yeah," she murmurs as a chuckle rises into her voice. "It appears so." Leaning in, she presses a kiss to the top of Henry's head. "We should get you up to bed."

"Do I have school in the morning?"

"No…"

"Oh," Henry murmurs with a frown. "I was kind of hoping we did."

"I… think people need some time to adjust before they just jump back into the lives."

"That makes sense," Henry says with an easy nod. "But I miss my friends and we were in the middle of a really good book that Ms. Blanchard was reading to us. It was a murder mystery… kind of. I'm not sure anyone actually died, but all the characters think someone died." He grins. "It's kinda cool, but really confusing."

"Ah… well maybe we could pick up a copy and you could finish it here?"

He nods agreeably at the idea. "I don't miss math though," she tells her, dropping his voice a little lower as he glances to Robin. "But don't tell Robin that." Henry looks back to Regina and offers a lopsided little smile. "I think it might hurt his feelings."

Laughing softly, she shakes her head–and for a moment, she just stares at Henry and his sheepish little grin and bright eyes. "I really love you, you know that, right?"

"I love you, too," he tells her as his smile brightens.

"I spent my whole day today talking about all the bad choices I've made in my life, and I just thinking about how glad I was that when it came to you, I finally got something right. That you got to be the one thing I seem to have gotten right." Again, she leans in and presses a kiss to his hair, breathing in the soft smell of his shampoo. "So, what do you say to two chapters tonight?"

Henry grins. "I say yes!"

"Okay, let's go up and…" She looks to Robin and Roland sleeping soundly beside them. "Once we get you to bed, I'll come back for them."

Henry nods as he rolls away from her and as they start toward the stairs, he reaches for her hand. Her breath catches in her chest as Henry leads her up the stairs. He changes into his pajamas quickly and brushes his teeth, and then he and Regina crawl into his bed. She lays on her side and he lays against the pillows and she reads until his eyes are heavy.

"Mom," he murmurs softly as she slides the bookmark into the page. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Are you still mayor?"

She blinks a couple of times as he looks up at her, and then a grin edges onto her lips as she nods. "I am."

"Good," he says decisively. "I'm glad. You're a good mayor."

"I'm glad, too," she murmurs in sincere voice as she slides off the bed and leans in to kiss his cheek. "Good night, Henry."

"G'night, mom," he mumbles back as his eyes close–and before she she even reaches the door, he's asleep.

She goes downstairs and carefully scoops up Roland, carrying him up to his room and tucking him in. For a moment, she lingers there–watching as he sleeps and thinking of the promises she's made about redecorating the room for him, and though she knows it could easily be done with a wave of her hand, she wants to see the excitement on his face as they go through the department store and pick things out. She imagines it'll end up looking a lot like Henry's room–just perhaps with more Superman than Captain America.

Grinning, she flicks on the nightlight and closes the door, and she considers the possibility of taking the boys shopping the following afternoon. Henry could use a few new things–and though socks and underwear are hardly as exciting as superhero bedsheets and posters, she thinks it'll make for a nice afternoon.

She makes her way back to the living room and picks up the plates from the coffee table, quickly taking them to the kitchen and putting them in the dishwasher. She takes her time making sure all the doors are locked and all of the lights are turned off, and as she makes her way back to Robin, she can't help but think of how good it feels to be this comfortable and this at ease in her own skin.

For a moment, she hesitates, not wanting to wake him–and she considers just grabbing a blanket and cuddling up against him. But she knows that if she does that, they'll both wake up in the middle of the night with sore necks and shoulders, and they'll both have a miserable morning.

Taking a breath she sits down on the edge of the couch and places her hand on his thigh, pressing gently in an effort to wake him–but it goes unnoticed. She whispers his name a few times, each time in a louder voice, but still he doesn't wake up, and for some reason it makes her laugh. She slides closer and leans in a little, pressing her hand gently to his chest, and again, she says his name. His eyelids flutter and he shifts slightly, and a grin tugs onto her lips–and for an all too brief moment, she feels a bit overwhelmed by how much she loves him.

For months, he's been a constant source of comfort for her. He's been there whenever she needed someone, even when she wouldn't voice that need, and he's never asked for anything in return. He was simply there, because he wanted to be, because he loved her–and she's never quiet had that. With Daniel, they'd been so young and their relationship never really got the chance to start–and then, after him, for so long, there'd been no one. She'd gotten used to being alone and somehow convinced herself that she preferred it that way. But it's been nice to have someone to lean on and rely on, someone she could talk to and confide in without worrying that she'd be judge or lectured–and just like with Henry, she can't help but think that maybe everything else needed to happen in order for this to happen. And if that was the case, it was all worth it. They were worth it.

"Mm, did I fall asleep?" He murmurs as his eyes open. "I just meant to rest my eyes."

"You did. So did Roland."

Robin yawns and rolls his shoulders–and then his eyes widen a little. "Did all of the animals survive? I was pretty sure that Chance and Sassy would, but… I was worried about Shadow."

She blinks as she processes his question, and then she starts to nod. "Yes, they did–even Shadow."

"Good…"

She laughs a little as her fingers strum absently over his chest. "We should get to bed."

"We should," he agrees in a groggy voice. "I need to go into the store and… make sure John didn't flirt away half of my inventory."

"I need to go into my office tomorrow, too. I… don't actually remember the last time I was there. I'm sure my desk is a nightmare."

He grins a little. "I'll take the boys to the shop with me."

"Okay," she agrees easily. "We should meet for lunch at Granny's, and then I want to take the boys shopping. Henry needs some things and I've been promising Roland we'd decorate his room, so I figure tomorrow would be a good day for that and…" She takes a breath. "I really want to focus on doing something normal."

"Normal is good…"

"It is…"

Pushing himself forward, he takes her hand and tugs her up from the couch. "Just try to make sure they're back by six," he tells her. "They have plans."

"They do?" She asks, as her brow arches. "Our children have plans."

"Yes," he says easily.

"Plans that… include us?"

"No…"

She watches as he struggles against the urge to smile. "Do I get to know about these plans?"

"Their plans?" He asks, almost rhetorically as they reach the top of the stairs and she nods. "John is going to take them out for pizza and then watching The Chronicles of Narnia and… having a little sleep over." He grins. "He borrowed some camping equipment–tents and the like. I think he's more excited about it than they're going to be."

"So, they don't know about these plans…"

"Not yet."

"And, what will we be doing while our children are otherwise occupied?"

"Ah," he breathes out as they step into the bedroom. "That's the part I can't share."

"No?"

"No," he says as he closes the door. "That part is very confidential."

"Do the boys knows?"

"And risk you bribing them with candy and baked goods?" He asks, shaking his head as a sly little grin edges onto his lips. "I don't think so."

Her heart starts to flutter as she stares at him, and though she wants to be annoyed with his coyness, it makes her smile. "So, you're not going to tell me?"

"You'll find out tomorrow night," he says easily as he steps around her and opens a drawer, pulling out a pair of pajama bottoms. She watches him change and then climb into bed and he only grins at her as he pats the empty space beside himself. "Come on, you've gotta be exhausted."

"I am," she murmurs. "But I also want to know what you're up to."

"Oh, I'm going to bed…"

Rolling her eyes, she reaches for her own pajamas, quickly changing into them before joining him in bed. She turns off the light and rolls onto her side–and again, she feels her heart flutter when he reaches for her.

"Just a hint…"

"Regina…"

"Come on…"

He chuckles softly and pulls her closer. "I… think you know what's going to happen tomorrow night," he whispers softly as her head settles on his shoulder. "But I do want some elements of it to be a surprise."

She feels tears welling in her eyes and she nods and cuddles a little closer, glad for the confirmation and glad to wait for the surprise, but most of all glad to be able look forward to their future together–a second chance at life and happiness, not only for herself, but for all of them. And a second chance she can't help but think was meant to be.