Once One Shots

Sick

"Mom, I don't feel too good."

Henry walked into his mother's room, his hair rustled and face pale, his mother, looking at him, could see that he wasn't well.

"Come see sweetheart." She spoke softly, tossing her comforter and sheets off of her and swinging off of the bed. She placed a hand on his forehead, then his cheek, "You're burning up!" In response Henry fell into a coughing spell, his mother comforting him, then bringing him into her bathroom to give him some medicine.

"Here," she said, "drink this." The boy took the pink cough syrup and downed it. "Good job." She said smiling, "Come, you really should get some sleep."

They went together to Henry's bedroom, where she tucked him into his bed, sitting at his side and trailing her fingers across his brown hair, gazing into his chocolate eyes that looked so much like her own; it was easy to mistake the two as kin.

But no, they weren't. And it ate at Regina's heart each and every day. She loved him, more than she'd ever loved anyone. She loved him more than she'd loved Daniel or her father, far more than she'd felt for her mother, regardless of the love that they did share, far more than any inkling she'd felt for Leopold.

But of course she loves him, she is his mother.

Henry let out a soft rasp, his throat sore, a cough muffling his words. He gave up on trying to speak and instead simply gestured to the bookshelf. She knew what he meant.

She softly pushed herself from the side of his bed, bending down to the height of the bookshelf that sat against the wall. A book. He wanted her to read him a book.

A book, her little boy was so smart, so brilliant. He was as sick as a dog and he was still craving the knowledge of whatever lied in these pages, and he trusted her enough to allow her to choose what he'd learn today.

Why not, Regina thought to herself, let him hear a biting his past?

She pulled a golden bound and cardboard covered storybook entitled Snow White from the shelf. She may not agree with how the story painted her, but for her son she could put up with a few moments of injustice.

She smiled as she turned back to her son, who had been watching intently as his mother was picking the story from the shelf, a smile tugging at his cracked pink lips.

"What about," Regina said, plopping herself into the bed beside Henry, "Snow White?" She smiled as her son let out a giggle. She turned her face to him, locked eyes with him, and then turned to the book.

"Once upon a time..." She started reading, her son's head on her shoulder, snuggled up to her.

The two of them, family.

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So....two updates in two days....yep, I'm in the groove again I think. Let's try not to go on a multi-month break again...

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