AN: Hey guys, sorry for the hiatus! I was on vacation, and then working full time as a waitress at a summer camp for a month. I had about two days off the entirety of my working period, and I was so tired there was no way I was getting any chapters up. I really thought I would be able to update while I was away, but I overestimated my physical abilities, so I'm very sorry for getting your hopes up. I hope you all understand--enjoy the chapter!

The next morning, Regina finds herself at the only place she could think of, hand poised to knock on Snow and David's wooden door. She suspects--knows--that Emma will be here, and though the last thing she wants to do is further embarrass herself and come crying back to the blonde, she needs her to overcome the next obstacle in her path. And this obstacle looks pretty and is currently messing around with her son. With that last thought, she pushes past any last hesitation, and quickly raps on the door. It's a surprisingly short time before Snow opens the door, sees who it is, and her mouth slowly morphs into the shape of an o.

"Regina--!" Is all she can manage, and Regina can hear the omitted what are you doing here? Not for the first time, Regina feels extremely unwelcome, and she pulls at her fingertips as she wordlessly asks to be let in. Snow moves to the right, and Regina strides in with much more confidence than she feels.

She sees her as soon as she makes her first glance around the room--there she is, sitting on the floor with Charlie in her lap, her back against the couch. In the brief moments before they lock eyes, Regina has the chance to wonder how Emma feels about having the new knowledge that she's a big sister. She wonders if Emma feels replaced--that's how she would feel, whether she'd like to admit it or not. Looking at her now, Emma has an unreadable expression, and Regina hates the urge within her that wants so badly to see into Emma's heart. But then Emma's green irises make their way to hers, and they darken slightly. Not many people would notice the change in her sparkling eyes, but god, Regina does, and she has to shut her eyes in a longer blink than necessary before feeling brave enough to keep the eye contact. This time, what Snow had wanted to ask doesn't remain unsaid as Emma rises from the floor and crosses her arms in one fluid motion. "What are you doing here?"

Regina takes a step closer, spiked heel clicking against the wooden floors underfoot, as her palms outstretch in a surrendering gesture. "I thought we should talk about Iris."

Emma scoffs lightly and rubs the toe of her boot on the floor, leaving scuff marks. "What, the girl who's dating our son?"

Regina barely feels the relief and emotion that washes over her at the sound of someone else besides herself acknowledging that she too, is Henry's mother. The blonde seems to bring out annoyances in her that hardly ever reach the surface, and she struggles against the urge to roll her eyes. She loses the battle and her eyes rake across the ceiling for a moment or two before they reach Emma again. "Yes, and I was saying, how we're meant to clear her memories of the town now that there's this new complication."

Emma doesn't seem to see the problem as she shrugs. "Just give the kid the potion you gave me. He'll understand."

Regina sighs, and her hand absently reaches up to rub against one of her temples. "I can't, not now. His potion still needs a day or two to finish setting, and the sooner Iris leaves, the better. I don't want him getting more hurt than he needs to."

Emma sighs as well and she shrugs again. "Okay, well...what's the harm of giving it to him early?" Her mind and heart are pounding and each second she's forced to talk to Regina is another inch bile is rising in her throat from nerves. Everything was a lie, everything was a lie, everything was a----

"I can't-! Tampering and being careless with memory potions is a very dangerous game. If I don't follow the book completely--I could mix up his memories, or worse, wipe them completely, until he's left with nothing at all." Tears brim in the brunette's eyes at the mere thought of such a fate sentencing her little boy, and her wet eyes lock with Emma's, now wide and seemingly even more vividly green than before.

Hurt feelings aside, the mention of Henry being in any sort of danger momentarily brings Emma out of her emotional slump, and her mouth opens, stammering out a reply. "Oh..oh I didn't know."

Regina's lips begin to curl into a sneer, ready to condemn her the way she used to so many years ago, but her face falls when she sees the genuine worry and raw emotion in the blonde's face--eyes sparkling with unshed tears, cheeks flushed--and all Regina can see is the woman she loved--loves. Her shoulders slump and she leaves every word at the tip of her tongue unsaid. Instead she just looks at Emma, and there they share the first moment since the memory potion where they both seem to be at peace. No words are needed to finish the conversation, so Regina finally breaks the eye contact by flicking a piece of hair out of her eyes. "So, what's the plan for Iris?"

Hardly twenty minutes pass of them staying in their awkward standing positions facing each other, assembling something that can hardly be called a plan, before there's a loud, startling rap on the loft's wooden door. Emma's cut off mid-sentence, and their eyes flick towards the other's, wide and curious. Neither can think instantly of who could be rather demandingly requesting a visit. Emma shrugs, and makes the first move to walk towards the door, pulling it open.

"Henry?--" Regina hears Emma say, and panic rises in her throat as the brunette takes a step backwards. Henry is so angry at her--so angry--and Regina is a strong woman, she's been through hell, but she knows she can't handle seeing this version of Henry look at her in the same way he had last night.

But there's nowhere to go, and she's rooted to the spot as he pushes his way into the room. She barely hears Emma ask what he's doing here over the rush in her ears, but, god, she can see the way he looks at Emma with so much love as he pulls her into a hug. Regina watches the blonde's fingers curl into he fabric of their son's shirt, and the way she nuzzles her face into his chest, nose drinking in his cologne.

"I was worried about you," Henry murmurs into the hair on the top of her head, "did you even come back to the mansion last night?" Emma opens her mouth to give a muffled reply, lips brushing against his button-down shirt--

And then Regina's shaking legs somehow keeping her upright cause a loud creak to reverberate across the wooden floor. Her heart, pounding full of jealousy at watching Emma receive such affection that has been lost to her for nearly seven years, quickens its pace even further as she watches Henry furrow his brow and look over, momentarily distracted from his mother.

Green eyes rimmed with thick eyelashes first widen with sheer surprise then narrow a moment later. Henry's long arms distractedly release Emma and fall to his sides as he takes a few steps forward. "Why are you here?" He asks, just short of a demand. Regina draws her eyes up to Emma, who is watching the encounter with a quizzical look that slowly begins to fade as she puts pieces together in her mind, realizing why Henry is so upset.

Regina, still rooted to the spot, doesn't get a chance to reply before Emma does the last thing she expects her to: she jumps to her defense.

Emma strides over and places herself as a roadblock between Regina and Henry, arms outstretched towards each of them. "Henry, it's okay. We're fine," she tells him, and it's a goddamned lie, but then Emma's extended arm reaches further towards her, and then she's grabbing Regina's hand---

Regina's all but frozen for another moment, but she catches Emma's wide, anxious eyes, giving her wordless instructions; soft, beautiful eyes that are asking for her trust--and then Regina's curling her fingers around Emma's. Their fingers lock against the other's the way they have a million times in the past, as if they're two pieces of a puzzle, and Regina doesn't realize she hasn't been breathing until she's very nearly out of air.

Emma continues to act seamlessly, and if Regina didn't know so much better, she would think Emma wasn't pretending, and that they really did kiss and make up, that it was possible. But, god, she knows better. Still, Emma continues to squeeze her hand and moves so she's standing right beside Regina, looking up at their son with a smile. "It was just an argument--we're fine." She repeats the last sentence, and she looks over at Regina with a close-lipped smile, asking for confirmation, though her green eyes are speaking volumes about how much this kills her.

But then Regina's finding her wine-colored lips to stretch into a matching smile, and she's nodding, the movement causing her raven hair to fall over her face. "It's true. I'm sorry about earlier, Henry." She punctuates her sentence by sidestepping closer to the blonde, and their shoulders rub together.

He looks skeptical for a moment, but his hard features finally begin to soften, and Regina allows her heart to soar for the quickest of moments, celebrating the way his vivid eyes look upon her with nothing next to anger. "I'm sorry too," he admits, and they share a calm, healing glance before he breaks it by looking at his shoes, toeing at the ground. "I think I'll go to the library--you know, if you want some..." his voice breaks off, and underneath his wavy brown hair, Regina catches a furious blush on his cheeks, "..alone time, or...whatever." He mumbles, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

Regina almost answers him, but stops herself just in time, remembering that she's not his mother in his mind. Almost subconsciously, she turns to Emma, waiting for her to say what she thinks is right. Emma notices this, and her cheeks begin to hue more vividly pink before she looks at her son with an adoring smile. "That sounds like a good idea."

As soon as the door shuts, and their son is safely on the other side, they spring apart, hands burning from the other's touch. They don't talk for several seconds, unable to look the other in the face. Finally, Regina brings herself to ask, "what did you mean, 'good idea'?" Her mind is stuck looping over the words, alone time, and Emma's answer to that, which seemed to make no sense, and blind hopes are pushing their way to the surface----

Then Emma unwittingly crushes them as she finally looks at Regina. "It will give us time to do our....thing with Iris. We don't want Henry around for that, right?"

It makes so much sense, and Regina hates it for that, but she forces a tiny smirk onto her lips that even she knows looks fake. "Right."

---

Henry's black converse shoes slap the pavement as he saunters in the general direction of the library. His mind plays the scene back at the loft over and over, brow furrowing as he tries to sort out what had happened. Arguments are strange for them--they hadn't exactly had one since he'd told Regina off at her apartment. They'd seemed.....happy for nearly the entirety of their relationship. Almost so much so that he could gag, and if it were possible, both their mouths would probably be filled with cavities due to the overly sweet things they told each other. Actually, he can't honestly remember the last time he'd seen his mother so damned happy before Regina had entered their lives.

But, Henry's far from stupid--he knows that there's such thing as a Honeymoon Phase in a relationship, and it's possible that they're dying down from their sugar high. At the same time, it seems implausible because they'd really only been together for about four months before they'd come to this godforsaken town.

And truthfully---

Henry's eyes narrow and he watches the ground pass by more quickly as his feet unconsciously move faster. Truthfully, everything had begun to go downhill from the time they'd set foot in this place. He's sick of creepy stares from residents, secretive whispers behind closed doors from Regina and her extended family, saying things they don't want him to hear. And something seemed wrong about the way Regina and his mother had acted back at the loft. Henry has seen thousands of interactions between the two of them, and he thinks he knows enough to know when something's off.

His mind continues to cloud with these thoughts, so engrossed in theories that he barely hears a man yell, "Hey, watch out!" before his nose collides with a street lamp. He steps back hazily, rubbing his sore nose as he looks up at the metal pole he stupidly ran into.

"You alright?" The same man asks, and Henry swivels around to meet the owner of the voice.

"Neal," Henry sputters, blood running cold. Ever since his conversation with his mom last week about Neal, when she'd so unceremoniously shut down any questions, Henry had been trying to figure out who the hell this guy is. His mother's fierce green eyes had blazed, skin paling underneath the faint splaying of freckles across her cheeks, caused only by the sound of Henry mentioning Neal Cassidy.

Henry had recently shut the whole situation out of his mind--he'd come to a distressing conclusion that he almost didn't dare to entertain--but now, looking into the very man's face that showcased so many features nearly identical to his own, he steps back shakily, splashing water up from a puddle and soaking the back of his legs.

He doesn't feel his lips forming the words at first. It's only a suspicion--god--why is he blowing this up in his face? But the accusation flows out of his mouth before he can stop it, icy veins pulsing as fast as his racing heart. And then, "You're my dad. Aren't you?"

But then, all the doubts that had previously swarmed Henry's mind about his accusation are wiped clean the moment he stares down into Neal's face from his superior height. The man's eyes widen, the color drains from his face, and his mouth drops open, hands shaking beneath his wrists. "Who told you that?" He demands, eyes needlessly darting from side to side, as his mind clouds with the sole thought of how Emma's going to kill him, and oh Jesus, this kid thinks I abandoned him. Well. I did, but Henry doesn't know the whole story. His mind ramblings are cut off by Henry's green sparkling eyes narrowing.

"So it is true." He states, voice lowering.

"Henry--" Neal begins, the words I can explain dying out before they reach his lips. Because really, how can he explain? There's nothing that he can dish out that would make a lick of sense to Henry, and not for the first time since confronting an amnesiac Swan, he wishes fervently for the ground to come alive and swallow him up.

Henry doesn't give him a chance to say much else though, because he's uncrossing his arms and beginning to pace in a circle around him. "All this time--all my life I've never met you? Did you even know I existed? God help you if you did know and just didn't give a shit--" he breaks off, digging his palms deep into his eyes, cursing the emotion that causes them to prick beneath his squinting eyelids. "And my mom--what did you do to her? What did you do, just knock her up and leave her to fend for herself and have me in jail? Yeah, I know about that. You didn't stick around to help her raise me either? Well, no thanks to you, I turned out fine. I owe everything to her, so if I see you hurting her ever---"

"Henry, stop." Neal cuts him off, trying hard to ignore the guilt pounding in his heart at the emotion-filled words Henry's throwing at him. He can tell that his son had planned out exactly what he would say if or when he ever found his dad, and Neal would rather not imagine his young son staring up at his bedroom ceiling, blinking back tears and wondering why his dad didn't want him. Henry stops talking and pacing, and he's standing now right in front of him, looking down into his face with indignant tear-filled vibrant eyes, coated in thick dark lashes. Neal can't begin to decide what to say to Henry's righteous anger, but he settles on what he does know, what he had just cut off his son from saying. "I would never hurt Emma, you don't have to worry. I'm so sorry," he begins, and realizes he has nothing left to say; nothing that would mean anything.

Henry waits for the rest of his explanation, and when it doesn't come, he scoffs in disbelief and disappointment, an almost sarcastic smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He rolls back on his heels, staring down his nose at his father as he crosses his arms. "Wow. After all this time, after I'd imagined a thousand different ways of finally meeting you, and a thousand different explanations how you were never there for me----this is it? I'm sorry?" He scoffs again, sniffing despite himself. He repeats it, the words leaving an acid-like taste on his tongue. "I'm sorry?"

He doesn't see the way Neal's face falls, tears pricking his eyes before Henry turns away, slowly walking in the direction of the library once more. There's a ringing in his ears, a numbness to his senses, a fog circling his brain as he pulls his jacket tighter around himself, walking faster and faster.

He thinks he hears his father calling his name.

But god, he wouldn't be halfway surprised if it was his own damned imagination.

AN: it feels great to be writing again! I hope you all enjoyed. Originally, more was supposed to happen this chapter, but I ended up writing so many emotions for Regina, and then a very intense scene at the end for Neal and Henry, that it just didn't happen. Still, I hope you guys love the drama as much as I do.

Sorry for the whole subplot with Neal, I just thought it would be a deliciously interesting and dramatic dynamic to explore, and I'm very glad I did. However, we're nearing the climax of the story at a very fast rate, so I would call this the end of the Neal drama for the time being. Thanks for sticking with it!

Vote and comment, it would make my day. :)