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The explosion rocks the entire town.
Henry leaps out of bed – well, the couch – and runs straight into Charming’s bedroom. He feels sick to his stomach, certain he knows what has happened without being told.
Charming is already awake, of course. Henry wouldn’t be surprised if every citizen of Storybrooke was woken, judging by the violent shaking of the walls and furniture that is only just starting to subside.
“Are you okay, Henry?” Charming asks as Henry flings himself at his grandfather’s solid torso and clings on for dear life. “Shh, don’t cry,” he soothes, which is odd, because Henry isn’t aware that he’d been crying – but oh, yep, he definitely is now.
“That was her, wasn’t it?” he sobs into Charming’s shirt. “The explosion. It came from her house, I just know. Is she dead? Did my mom just die? You can’t let her die!”
“Henry, calm down. I’m sure Regina’s okay,” Charming says, but the panicked look on his face as he looks towards the window gives his fear away, and Henry starts breathing even faster.
He runs with Charming to the window, helps him fling open the curtains – and both of them let out a cry at the sight revealed. There’s a billowing cloud of purple smoke curling up into the night sky, and its source is Regina’s mansion – or rather, what remains of it. The rest has been reduced to a pile of rubble.
“We have to go, now!” Henry shrieks, and Charming lunges for his sword before running with Henry out of the house.
They push and shove their way through the gathered crowd, and Henry is reminded of the last time he had to do this. It was just as urgent, and his mom’s life was in danger then, too – but Emma had been there, so he knew that everything would be okay. This time, he doesn’t have that comfort.
He doesn’t know what’s worse, though – a bloodthirsty crowd like last time, out to kill Regina, or this bunch of cowards who are standing around watching his mother die and doing nothing about it.
Henry climbs over what used to be the front door, hardly hearing Charming’s roars of Regina’s name but listening intently for any noise his mother might make. “Mom,” he cries out, “Are you there? Can you hear me? Mom!”
It seems like hours pass before he finds her, trapped under a slab of concrete and lying on a chunk of off-white carpet that slowly stains red, but it couldn’t have been more than a minute. Henry screams out for his grandfather as he crouches down beside Regina. He tries to hold her hand, but he finds that she is clutching a worn piece of fabric tightly in her thin fingers. The material seems to tingle in Henry’s palm, so he quickly stuffs it into his pocket instead of throwing it away.
(Later, he’ll be glad he kept it, once he learns it is a piece from the hat that might bring Emma home.)
“Mom?” he whispers to her, over Charming’s grunts as he drags away the rubble keeping Regina trapped. “Are you awake?”
Regina makes a small noise of acknowledgement without opening her eyes, and Henry almost laughs in relief. His smile fades, though, when he gets a proper look at how much blood she actually lost in the explosion now that the rubble has been partially cleared. The flood of red has soaked through her shirt and all the debris surrounding them, and it isn’t slowing down.
“Keep talking to her, Henry,” Charming shouts, “because I can’t move her until I’ve cleared all this. You have to keep her conscious!”
So he tries again, leaning in closer and clutching tightly to her shoulders. “Mom? Look at me. Please, Mom!”
Regina’s eyes slowly flutter open, and it takes her a moment to focus on her son.
“Henry,” she says, and it’s barely a whisper. “You came.”
“Of course I did!”
She clears her throat once, and fights to keep her eyelids open. “I was just trying to bring them home,” she croaks. “For you, Henry... so you’d believe me.”
Henry cradles her face, now, and tilts her face towards him. “Believe what? Stay awake, Mom. What should I believe?” he cries, panicking more when he notices the tiny flecks of blood gathering in the corners of her mouth.
“Believe that... that I love you.”
Regina’s eyes droop closed, and her breathing becomes more erratic. Charming tosses away a final chunk of concrete, then, and stoops down to pick her up. “No!” Henry wails, and stumbles after them. He clings on to Regina’s arm that hangs limply by her side. “I believe you, Mom. I know you love me!”
Henry trips over a broken floorboard then, landing painfully on his knees and elbows, but he crawls on, desperate to tell her in case he never gets another chance. “I love you too,” he sobs. “Please don’t die!”