It's late. The moonlight streams though the window and illuminates Regina's path down the hallway. She's quiet, making sure not to wake Henry as she steps carefully into his room. To the untrained eye, it is the same as always. Same blue walls she had painted in anticipation for his arrival. Same bookshelf they had bought when he started school and developed his love of reading. Same toys, scattered throughout the room. But the boy snoring quietly in the bed couldn't be any more different. He had grown distant and resentful. The photo that always sat on his desk of him and Regina on his fifth birthday has disappeared, replaced by that cursed storybook.

She sighs and runs her hand along the cover. A wave of nostalgia washes over her as she flips through the pages, seeing pictures of her old home. She doesn't know where Henry got it, but the pictures inside don't even begin capture the true beauty of the fairytale world. Much like everything else in this world, they are dull and flat. She closes her eyes and tries to remember. She can see the trees with leaves bigger and brighter than she'd ever seen in this world. She can almost feel the wind that is so much more alive in the fairytale world, dancing through her hair as she walks through the forest. And the people- well, she tries not to remember the people.

Henry cries out in his sleep, breaking her train of thought and causing her to hastily drop the cover of the book closed. She creeps over to the bed and sits beside her son's sleeping form. He is clearly having some sort of nightmare, as he begins to thrash under his covers. She holds him, trying to comfort him as she's done countless times in the past. She can hear him whimpering, calling out for something, or someone she can't hear. She pulls him closer and strokes his head, trying to coax him. His eyes fly open mid-cry and he looks at her for one second, before he throws his arms forward, pushing her away. She knows he didn't mean for it to be so harsh, but now there is no doubt in her mind what his nightmare is about and the look on his face says everything that he doesn't. This look of horror, of disgust. It's not unfamiliar.

She knows that she deserves this, for everything she's done. But not from him. Never from him. Henry is her redemption. A chance to forget her past, and do something good. But apparently that was only a temporary reprieve. He watches her slowly get up and back out of the room. She waits until she has reached her own bedroom, and shutting the door behind her, she submits to the tears brimming in her eyes. She cries that night, harder than she's ever cried before because she knows that this is the end. Despite all her loss and all her sacrifice, that void is still empty. No matter how hard she tries to love and receive it in return, it's impossible. She is evil, and evil never gets a happy ending.