I swear, this website and I are having issues cause it's always screwing up the format on me. Anyway, thank you to those that informed me!

"Mom, I don't feel good."

Henry had stood in the doorway, his face pale and grim, with his backpack sliding off his left shoulder only to be shrugged back on lazily. Of course Regina hopped off the kitchen island barstool so quickly it gave Emma whiplash, but the blonde wasn't so convinced.

She had been a normal kid once. A kid that didn't travel by horse or have tutors in her palace or poop in a hole. She grew up with cars and the system and the government forcing you to drudge to class every day. So she was a master at the art of skipping school. Her foster parents never cared whether she got an education or not, or whether she was dying of pneumonia or not. They let her do her own thing. So faking an illness occurred on the regular. She was book smart. She hated authority and being told what to do. School was a nightmare for her.

But Henry generally enjoyed school. He was a freak of nature. He was always up on time, dressed, teeth brushed, and books in his bag. He would come home, full of excitement, ready to tell his moms of all his adventures that day. All Emma knew, was thank god nurture took over academia. Otherwise Henry would be in big trouble, especially with Regina, who expected greatness from her son. Emma, on the other hand, expected lies and deceiving. Isn't that what normal teenagers do? Not that she was totally normal but she was pretty close.

"What's the matter, kid?" She unceremoniously bit off a piece of rolled up pancake, syrup and all. Through her concern, Regina managed to grimace at the syrup dropping onto her counter top.

"My stomach hurts." Henry placed a hand on his belly for emphasis, his big eyes practically melting his brunette mother. Emma snorted, causing all eyes to turn to her.

"Oh, please. What's due? An essay? Maybe you got a quiz?"

"Emma, I'm not faking!" The kid was convincing, Emma mused. Regina threw a glare over her shoulder, to which Emma simply lifted her hands in defeat.

"So take him to the doctor. That way he'll have a doctor's note and the absence won't count against him."

Regina nodded as she reached for her keys. Henry pouted, "But I hate going to the doctor. Whale takes forever!"

"Well, kiddo, it's school or go to the doctor." Henry grumbled as Regina lifted his backpack off his shoulder and set it on a barstool. She grabbed Emma's wrist and pulled her forward.

"What?"

"You're coming."

"But Regina-"

"No 'buts'. If he's going to be immersed in that game boy thing he has, then you're going to keep me company while we wait an eternity for Whale to gel his hair before making his rounds."

Emma doesn't bother telling her that they're supposed to be working because her girlfriend has a rebuttal for literally everything. You can't win an argument against Regina Mills, especially when you're distracted by the straining button on that burgundy blouse threatening to reveal all.

So they drove to the hospital, where Whale took on all of Storybrooke's patients, young and old. They say in the waiting room for about two hours, Henry sluggishly tapped away on his hand held device while Regina and Emma talked about the weather, Henry's schooling, Snow, and even the fact that they wanted to spend more time together, possibly taking up a hobby like pottery (Regina's suggestion) or joining the kickball league in town (Emma's suggestion).

When Whale finally got to them, he took Henry's temperature, listened to the heartbeat, and all those doctor-y things before simply asking the boy what was wrong.

"He's got the stomach flu." Emma rolled her eyes, receiving a small slap to her abdomen from Regina.

"Are you sure, Doc?"

"Yeah, pretty sure. He's nauseous and has had soft stool."

"Ew." Another smack to her abdomen.

"Stomach flu means it'll right itself in a few days, correct?"

"Yes. Unsalted crackers and Ginger Ale help with nausea. He can't go to school until the symptoms are gone. This is easily spread to others. So washing hands would be a good idea."

"If he gave me the stomach flu, I'll rage."

"You idiot."

Henry pouted the entire way back home, mumbling that they accused him of lying and "how dare you? I've always been a good boy". And that's how they were guilted into watching The Avengers for the umpteenth time. As they watched the heroes defeat Loki, again, Emma peered at Regina to see the brunette smiling lightly, looking extremely content.

Emma kissed her temple, knowing the brunette was enjoying have her son home. It gave her a chance to fawn over him once more, something that had become sparingly because the boy claimed he was too old to hold his moms hand or too mature to need a hug.

Emma couldn't help but chuckle as she watched Henry shoveling popcorn into his mouth, only to wash it down with soda. She lifted a brow and he smiled guiltily, knowing Emma had been right all along.

He pretended to be sick, not to avoid school, but to spend time with his mom. He and Regina had drifted apart during the curse and the relationship was still healing. With the boys insistence that affection "wasn't cool", Henry had to find a reason for his mom to watch over him, to kiss his forehead, to make him his favorite soup and for him to be able to hug her, tighter than ever before.

He looked for it in small ways. He did his homework early so that she'd smile and run a hand through his hair. He'd study extra hard to ace an exam so that she'd cradle his face, kiss his cheek, and plaster the exam on the fridge.

He'd pretend to be sick so that Regina had the chance to coddle him again. He'd pretend to be sick so that he could feel his moms arms around him without having to groan and tell her he was a man, not a boy.

So Emma smiled brightly. She'd be willing to let this one slide.