We Can Love Again

Against the Darkness

Just as he had promised, Will stayed with her the entire night. He didn't get much sleep, but he did it for Regina's sake. The night before almost didn't seem real to him as he thought about it; the scene with her and the knife stuck in his brain like a distant nightmare.

Then he remembered Roland was there. Will couldn't even begin to think about what was going through his mind, his small, innocent, narrow minded thoughts. He had already seen his mother beaten and tortured.

When Will was four years old, he certainly didn't have to endure things as heavy as that.

With care, he lifted Regina's head off his chest, just enough so he could wiggle out from the bed. She didn't wake; she only mumbled something inaudible into her pillow and faded back into sleep. Will started for the door, gently shutting it closed on his way out. He just hoped Roland hadn't told Henry about anything yet- now that would ruin everything.

To his relief, Henry was still completely knocked out in his bed. Roland was asleep as well, but for some reason his feet were facing the headboard. Will almost found it funny- his initial response was to laugh.

"Roland, wake up buddy," he called to the boy softly, eventually causing his eyes to open halfway. It was obvious he still needed more sleep. Will reached under his arms and pulled the boy up and over his shoulder. Roland was so tired he didn't even try to protest- he simply hung limply over his shoulder and let his uncle carry him out of his and Henry's bedroom. They went down the stairs and towards the couch where the two of them took a seat.

The subject of last night's encounter wasn't something Will wanted to bring back up, but he knew if he didn't, things would only get worse.

Something Henry had told him a while back resurfaced in his mind- he likes to be held. So that's what he did; Will held him securely in his lap and rubbed his back.

Roland had to be nudged again; he had fallen back asleep on the way down the stairs.

"What do you remember from last night?" Will asked, gently imposing the question.

Yawning, the child rested his head on the man's chest. "Mommy was very sad. She said we can't hold knives because they hurt and that's what she was doing."

Taking a deep breath, Will looked down at his small face. That was a start, at least.

"Well you're right, she was sad. Did you know that... Being sad can make you sick sometimes?"

Roland's eyes immediately grew wide. "Is mommy sick?!"

"No no," he reassured, desperately wishing their conversation could go by faster.

"Not the coughing, sore throat kind of sick anyways. Sometimes the things in your mind can make you do things you wouldn't normally do."

Somehow, the four year old already knew that her mind sickness had something to do with his father, the man that had practically vanished from his life.

"Oh," he said simply, peering down at his blue Captain America pajama bottoms.

"Your mother is going through something hard, so I need you to be happy for her- I promise it'll make her feel better."

Roland scowled. "That would be lying. I'm not happy. Henry's sad too... So are you."

"You'll just have to trust me... Do you want your mom to be happier?"

Everything was pounding in his four year old head; things he was sure was wrong was fuzzy now, undetectable and confusing.

"I will try and make her happy." He finally got out, feeling exhausted and miserable.