The doors of the orphanage creaked open, and a familiar click of heels filled the quiet halls. It had only been a week and a few days since Regina Mills had walked out with Henry in her arms, proud and resolute. Yet now, as she returned, her steps carried hesitation, dark eyes and her poise cracked at the edges.
Henry squirmed in her embrace, his cheeks blotched red from crying. His hazel eyes were glassy with tears, his fists curled tight, his little voice filling the entryway with sharp wails that refused to be soothed.
Regina held him firmly, jaw clenched, trying to bounce him into calmness but her patience had worn thin. For all her elegance, she looked tired, truly tired.
Nathan, who had been in the corridor tidying toys, froze when he heard the sound. His eyes flicked up, instantly recognizing the Queen-like woman. Messy hair framed his face as he tilted his head slightly, watching.
Regina saw him too. She remembered. This boy had been there on her first visit silent, watchful, unusual. She had noticed how infants seemed quieter around him, how even Henry had stilled for a fleeting moment in his presence. She had dismissed it then as coincidence. Now, with Henry screaming in her arms no matter what she tried, the memory cut sharper.
The adoption social worker, Ms. Greene, met Regina in the sitting room. "You're back earlier than expected, Ms. Mills. Is everything alright?"
Regina's reply was clipped, though her voice trembled beneath its usual strength.
"No, it is not. He cries day and night. He won't sleep unless I pace for hours. He rejects me at every turn. I…" She exhaled, a rare slip of emotion in her tone. "I don't think this is working."
The words hung heavy. Nathan's small chest tightened as he overheard. Is this the moment I've been waiting for!
"You're thinking of giving him back?" Ms. Greene asked carefully.
Regina looked down at Henry, who wailed harder as if sensing her doubt. Her grip shifted, not loosening but conflicted. "Perhaps I was too quick to believe I could…" She shook her head, the admission trailing off.
Nathan stepped closer without realizing it, his gaze fixed on the Henry. Every instinct in him wanted to reach out, to help show Regina how to handle him.
Before Regina could finish her thought, Ms. Greene interjected softly. "There may be another option, before you make a final decision. One of the children here has shown… an unusual gift handling the children."
Regina arched a brow, sharp even in weariness. "A gift?"
Ms. Greene gestured toward Nathan. "Nathan. Infants calm in his arms. Even those no one else can soothe. You saw it yourself once, Ms. Mills."
Regina's eyes shifted back to Nathan, narrowing slightly as if piecing a puzzle together. Yes she had remembered him. How Henry had gone quiet for him that very first day, however briefly.
"Coincidence," Regina muttered, though the uncertainty in her tone betrayed her doubt.
"Perhaps" Ms. Greene said. "But perhaps not. It might be worth trying before you decide on something… final."
Henry wailed louder, and Regina's patience snapped just enough for her to extend him toward Nathan. With a bit of scepticism. "Fine. Let's see this miracle child."
Nathan's hands trembled, heart pumping thinking this might be finally away to Storybrooke, as he received Henry just like magic that moment Henry settled against his chest, the cries softened. Nathan rocked him gently, whispering soft nonsense words only meant for the infant's ears.
The tension in the room shifted. Within moments, Henry's sobs dwindled into hiccups, his little body relaxing against Nathan as if exhaustion had finally caught him.
Regina stared, frozen. The transformation was undeniable.
Henry had not calmed for her once in over a week. Yet in this boy's arms, he lay still, even sleepy.
Ms. Greene folded her arms knowingly. "See? Sometimes the right bond makes all the difference."
Nathan glanced up, meeting Regina's eyes with a steady look. He didn't gloat, just gave a small soft smile, he only held Henry with gentle determination.
"Give him back," Regina said softly, extending her arms. Nathan obeyed, carefully placing Henry into her grasp. Predictably, Henry fussed again not wailing as before but whimpering, uneasy.
Regina's lips pressed thin, her pride warring with curiosity. "How do you do it? Why does he quiet for you and not for me?"
Nathan hesitated, then shrugged shyly. "I just… listen. Babies don't always cry because they're upset. Sometimes they just want to be held different or hear something soft. You have to… notice the small things."
Regina tilted her head, studying him. His words were simple, but the way he spoke carried weight beyond his ten years. "And you learned this here?"
He nodded. "I help with the little ones a lot. They… trust me."
Ms. Greene about to suggest something when a couple of children were loud enough arguing over a toy could be heard fighting over a toy.
She excused her self to settle the children, left Regina and Nathan together.
For the first time, Regina allowed herself to sit, Henry cradled carefully as Nathan stood nearby. She asked question after question about soothing, about different ways too hold him, about what Henry might need when he cried. Nathan answered each one patiently, explaining small tricks he had noticed in the orphanage.
The conversation stretched on far longer than Regina intended. At some point, Henry dozed against her chest, worn out. Regina looked down at him, her expression softer, quieter, though a storm of thought churned in her eyes.
By the time the evening sun began to filter through the windows, Regina rose, Henry nestled against her. She looked at Nathan one last time.
"You're… different," she said carefully, not quite a compliment, not quite suspicion. "You've done in minutes what I've failed to do in days. You've given me much to think about, Nathan."
Nathan lowered his gaze shyly, though inside, his chest fluttered. He was surprised by the praise mostly coming from his favourite character.
Regina turned to Ms. Greene who came back to the sitting room after realising there talk was over, her decision sharper now. "I'll keep Henry. But…" She paused, glancing back at Nathan, the crimson streaks in his hair catching the light. "I'll take the boy too."
The words struck like lightning. Nathan's eyes widened. Did he actually manage to get Regina to adopt him.
A shy, almost disbelieving smile tugged at his lips. His small hands clenched into fists at his sides, not from fear, but to stop them from trembling with excitement. For the first time, he felt seen. Wanted. Even if she was really choosing him because of Henry, it didn't matter. Someone wanted him.
Ms. Greene blinked in surprise but quickly nodded. "If you're certain, Ms. Mills. It'll take some time but should have all the paperwork ready soon."
Regina's eyes never left Nathan's as she added, "I am."
The boy's fate shifted in that moment.