Chapter Text
As we drive, Mom asks questions. A lot of questions. At first it is things about the curse. Who everyone is, what happens when it breaks, if people remember who they really are. I answer what I can without getting too off track.
"Do they all remember?" Mom asks.
"Yeah," I say. "When the curse breaks, they remember everything."
She is quiet for a second. "Everything."
"Pretty much."
"And you said Emma breaks it."
"Yeah."
Mom looks over at me for a second before looking back at the road. "How?"
"True love's kiss." I shrug. "Me and her."
Mom's hands tighten on the steering wheel.
I don't really know what to say to that, so I just look back out the window. The trees are going by fast. There aren't as many buildings out here, just the road and the woods and cars passing us. Mom keeps asking questions, and I keep answering them. She asks about Snow White. She asks about David. She asks about Mr. Gold. She asks about what happens to Storybrooke after the curse breaks. I tell her about magic coming back. I tell her about everyone knowing who she is. I tell her about how things don't get better right away.
"Do I lose you?" she asks.
I look over at her.
"No," I say. "Not really."
She nods like that is enough, but I know it isn't. About an hour into the drive, I start remembering that I hate car rides. At first it is not that bad. I just move around in my seat a little. Then I start feeling cramped.
The car feels too small.
The seat belt feels too tight.
I look out the window, but that doesn't help. Everything just keeps going by, and I can't get out. I know that is stupid because I can get out. Mom would pull over if I asked her to. But I still start feeling like I can't breathe right. Mom notices.
"Henry?"
"I'm okay," I say.
She gives me a look. "You don't look okay."
"I just need to get out for a minute."
She doesn't ask any more questions. She just puts on her blinker and pulls into the next gas station. The second the car stops, I get out. I stand next to the car and stretch my arms over my head. Then I bend down and touch my toes. My legs feel weird after sitting for so long. Mom gets out too, but she doesn't say anything. She just watches me.
"I'm fine," I tell her.
"I know," she says.
I look at her.
She smiles a little. "You can still need a break."
That makes me feel a little better. After a minute, I head toward the gas station store.
"Can I get a snack?" I ask.
Mom looks at the store, then back at me. "Yes."
I smile and head inside. The store is small and kind of gross, but they have a lot of snacks. I go over to the candy aisle first and pull down a couple candy bars. Then I grab a few bags of chips. I get salt and vinegar chips, barbecue chips, and regular chips because I don't know which one I want yet. Then I go over to the cooler and grab a Coke. When I get up to the counter, I put everything down. The cashier looks at all of it, then looks at me.
"Big appetite," he says.
"I'm growing," I tell him.
He laughs a little. Mom comes in behind me. She looks at the pile of candy and chips and Coke. I wait for her to say something. Normally she would. She would probably tell me I can get one candy bar and one bag of chips. Maybe she would let me get the Coke if I promised not to drink all of it. But she doesn't say anything.
She just pays.
That is when I know she is more rattled than she is letting on. Mom would normally say something about me getting all this sugar. The cashier puts everything in a bag and hands it to Mom. She takes it, then hands it to me when we get outside. I grab the bag with one hand. Then I grab Mom's hand with the other. She looks down at me.
I squeeze her hand and smile up at her. "Thank you."
Her face softens a little.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
Then we head back to the car. Mom starts driving again, and I put the snack bag between my feet.
"Can we listen to music?" I ask.
She glances at me. "Music?"
"Please?"
She reaches over and turns on the radio. The first song is something slow, and I make a face. I start messing with the buttons until I find a station I like better. Mom doesn't stop me. I lean back in my seat and dig through my bag. I pull out the Coke and the salt and vinegar chips. The chips are gone pretty fast. I only drink about a fourth of the Coke because I know if I drink it all, Mom will probably say something. Even if she is distracted. We drive in silence for around ten minutes. The radio is playing, and I watch the road go by. Then the song ends. Mom turns the radio down. I turn to look at her, but she keeps her eyes on the road.
"Tell me about Emma," she says.
I knew she was going to ask eventually.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
I take another small drink of Coke.
"Okay."
So I tell her. I tell her about the first time I knocked on Emma's door. I tell her that she didn't really want to listen to me at first, but she did anyway.
"She was living in Boston," I say. "She was a bail bondsperson."
Mom raises an eyebrow. "A what?"
"She finds people who skip bail."
Mom looks like she is trying not to have an opinion about that.
"She came back to Storybrooke with me," I continue. "She didn't believe the book at first. She thought I was just a kid who needed help."
"Did she?"
"Yeah," I say. "She did. She just didn't know what kind of help I needed yet."
Mom is quiet.
"Emma always said I was your kid," I tell her. "She knew you raised me. She knew you were my mom."
Mom's hands tighten on the steering wheel.
"She didn't try to take me from you," I say. "She knew you were my mom. She just wanted to be my mom too."
"Mom," I say quietly, "you were scared."
She doesn't say anything.
"I know why you were scared. I do." I pick at the edge of the chip bag. "You loved me. You didn't want to lose me."
"I still don't."
"I know."
I look back up at her.
"But Emma is my mom too," I say. "She gave me up because she wanted me to have the best chance. She thought someone else could give me a better life than she could."
Mom's face changes a little at that.
"She had a hard life," I continue. "She didn't have parents. She was alone a lot. She didn't think she could be a mom, especially not when she was in jail and she didn't have anyone."
I remember Emma telling me some of it. I remember how she looked when she talked about it.
"She loved me too," I say. "Even before she knew me."
For a while, neither of us says anything.
"I love you with all my heart," I tell her. "I would never leave you. You're my mom. But Emma is my mom too, and you have to accept that."
Mom doesn't look at me. For a second, I think maybe I said the wrong thing. Then she nods a little.
"I know," she says.
I don't think she really sees it yet. But she will. She reaches over and turns the radio back up.
The next three hours are practically the same as the first hour. Mom asks questions. I answer them. I tell her about Emma. About the curse. About Storybrooke. About things that haven't happened yet. I try not to tell her too much at once.
Soon enough, we get to Boston. There are more cars here than in Storybrooke. More people too. Mom drives slowly, checking the address a few times. It takes around thirty minutes for her to find the apartment Emma is staying at. When she does, she pulls over and parks the car. Then she just stares at the apartment building. I look at it too.
This is it.
Mom's hand is still on the steering wheel. I reach over and pat her hand. She looks down at me.
"It's okay," I say.
Then I look back at the building.
This is it.