Chapter Text
Prologue
“Emma Swan don’t you dare –”
Emma stopped mid-stride to lazily pivot around, “Regina Mills,” she mimicked Regina’s use of her full name, as if some silly, little power play like that was going to dissuade her, “if you know me as well as you say you do, then you should know I’m pretty good at finding people.”
With the dark, heavy curtains drawn, Emma could just barely make out Regina’s fading figure across the room.
“Suns coming up,” Emma quipped, as if Regina couldn’t tell by the way her hands were quickly becoming translucent.
“Why are you doing this? You can’t even remember…” Regina’s defeated voice trailed off as it reached Emma’s ears. She was tempted to snark about never having had somebody do something nice for you but as visions of an Evil Queen from Henry’s book flashed in her head she realized, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that for Regina it was probably true.
“I promised my…” Emma paused, if she was going to do this, if she was going to…believe, she might as well jump in the deep end. She’d never really liked the shallows anyway, so she cleared her throat softly, “our son…I promised our son that I would.”
Emma saw the flash of hope in Regina’s rapidly fading eyes and the tingling in her hands and feet told her that she would soon be waking up as well.
“No matter what it takes Regina,” Emma held Regina’s gaze as she disappeared, “I will find you.”
Chapter 1 – New York, New York
Christmas was, undeniably, Emma and Henry’s favorite time of the year.
Christmas in New York City was, as Henry put it, “pretty much the best thing to ever happen.”
So December 24th found them at their favorite bookstore, Mills Books, a tradition they’d started last year, though it seemed like they’d been doing it for years. Every holiday (or any celebratory day really, birthdays, good grades, good paycheck in Emma’s case) they would walk the 3 blocks or so from their apartment to the little hole-in-the-wall shop touting new & used books and Henry would pick out a present for himself.
Emma had a hard enough time keeping up with what size clothing to get Henry, much less what his wildly, imaginative brain craved for reading so she allowed him to choose this occasional gift.
Henry would always head straight for the back of the store where the used books were kept. When Emma had asked him why he would want some ratty, old, hand-me-down book instead of a new one, he had proclaimed with a sense of wisdom beyond his years, “The new books have stories that you can read, but the used books have stories you can smell and touch and feel.”
Emma had always wondered where he got that brain of his because she was pretty sure it wasn't from her…or his father, for that matter.
The bell over the door jingled as Henry and Emma hurried into the store, escaping the flurries of snow coming down outside. As always, they greeted the shopkeeper and received a welcome, warmed with the familiarity of many visits, in return.
Henry, of course, dashed off to the back of the store where the used books were kept. Emma exchanged a bemused look with the shopkeeper before greeting him, “Hey Gramps, got anything new in the kid might like?”
The kind old man smiled warmly with a knowing twinkle in his eye.
When Emma and Henry had first started visiting Mills Books, Emma would generally keep to herself but would almost always find herself drawn to the back of the store only to find Henry sitting cross-legged in front of the shop keeper, entranced by some story or another. His warm affection for Henry was evident from the way his hands gestured grandly - trying to imitate some mythical creature more often than not - to the way he would slap his knee and laugh boisterously, fondly recalling a certain moment that was especially dear to him. A moment he was so genuinely thrilled to share with Henry.
Emma would lean against a shelf, not wanting to interrupt, and simply watch as her son became engrossed with the magical words the old man weaved together.
One particular day, after they’d left the shop, Henry clutched a new-used book in one hand, Emma’s hand in the other and as they waited patiently for the light at the crosswalk to change Emma had noticed Henry looking up towards her curiously.
“What’s on your mind, kid?” She asked, bouncing lightly on her feet to fight the slight chill of the fall air.
“If I had a grandpa…” he’d started and Emma felt her chest clench slightly. She so wished she could give Henry the family he deserved, but she simply couldn’t, she was an orphan and Neal was totally out of the picture. She only hoped she was doing right by Henry so far, giving his hand a tight squeeze as he continued, “I’d want him to be just like the old man at the bookstore.”
Emma managed a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Oh yeah?”
Henry had nodded enthusiastically.
“Well, maybe you should tell him that next time, I bet he’d really like that.”
Henry nodded again in agreement as the light changed, signaling for them to safely cross amid the everyday mosh of New Yorkers.
As it turned out, the old man had been delighted when Henry had told him. They would soon come to learn that he had lost his wife and only daughter in a tragic car accident many years ago, and so had never had any grandchildren to dote upon. It was during that conversation that they would discover that he too, was named Henry.
It seemed, to Emma, that the universe had a funny way of doing things.
So, brushing a few flakes of snow from her coat, Emma followed Henry, the shopkeeper, to the back towards Henry, her son, who smiled over the top of a short shelf as they came into view.
“Hi Henry Senior!” He exclaimed happily, coming around the shelf to give the old man a fierce hug. They’d picked up nicknames for each other shortly after learning that they shared the same name.
“Well, hello there, Henry Junior,” he replied, ruffling the young boys hair a bit.
“Got anything good in?”
Emma glanced towards the old man at her son’s question and he met her gaze with a wink.
“As a matter of fact, I have something I’ve been saving especially for you,” he said, lightly pinching the tip of Henry’s nose.
The boy’s face lit up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree as Henry Sr. disappeared into the store room, only to re-emerge seconds later with a large, leather-bound book clutched in his worn and tired hands.
Henry Jr. gazed at the book in awe as it was delicately handed to him. He ran his fingers reverently over the gilded, gold writing on the cover.
“Once Upon A Time,” he murmured to himself, before gently opening the book and leafing through the pages.
“I think we’ve got a keeper,” Emma said with a smile, pulling some cash from her pocket, “how much do I owe you?” She started rifling through the bills but Henry Sr. stopped her short with a wave of his hands.
“No, no. This is my gift to Henry Jr. to celebrate the one year anniversary of you two walking into my shop and bringing some much needed joy into my life,” he said, smiling fondly down at the boy.
“Really?” Henry Jr. asked, placing the book down gently and after an affirmative nod from Henry Sr. he launched himself at the old man, wrapping him in a tight hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Emma beamed at the two of them, her eyes prickling slightly, ‘thank you,’ she mouthed towards the old man, who simply nodded in reply, his own eyes gleaming with unshed tears.
Henry pulled back suddenly, turning towards his mother, “Oh! Mom can we ask him now?”
Emma blinked dazedly, still caught up in the tender moment, “What? Oh. OH! Yeah, you want to do it or you want me to?”
Henry grabbed the book and went to stand beside her; he grasped her hand tightly, looking up towards her, “You do it.”
“Ok,” she chuckled. They looked towards the old man, who had a curious smile on his face. “Well, we were wondering…” she trailed off, nervously bouncing on her the balls of her feet, but as Henry’s hand gripped hers just a little tighter she found herself relaxing. Really, she didn't understand why this was so difficult for her.
“We were wondering,” she repeated, “if you would join us for Christmas dinner tomorrow.”
At this, tears started to leak from the old man's eyes and the grin on his face seemed to stretch from ear to ear. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, rough with emotion, “I…”
He glanced between Emma and Henry, before clearing his throat, “I would love to.”
Henry gave a small ‘whoop’ of joy and wrapped the old man in another hug.
“Great,” Emma replied, wiping discreetly beneath her eyes, “I’ll write our address down for you, it’s just a few blocks from here.” She glanced around, turning in a small circle, “um, pen and paper?”
Henry Sr. nodded towards the front of the store, “There should be something of use up by the register.”
Emma smiled and made her way towards the register. Henry’s animated chatter reached her ears as he led Henry Sr. along to the front. Her chest constricted as she took a shuddering breath, letting it out with a smile. She might not have been able to give Henry the family he wanted but she’d sure as hell do everything she could to give him the family he needed.
Emma grabbed a business card from the little holder where they were kept next to the register. She’d actually never looked at one before, never having needed it, so she glanced curiously at the front.
Her eyes scanned over the calligraphic type, Mills Books, before taking in the black silhouette of what looked like a knight seated on a rearing horse to the left of the text. On the right was an apple, colored the most deep and luscious red. Emma’s mind flashed with a vision of full lips, painted ever so carefully, with the same color.
“Mom,” Henry tugged at her sleeve.
“Huh…” she responded distractedly.
“Are you going to write it down or just stare at the card all day?”
Emma blinked her eyes a few times, realizing she’d been staring at the card without really seeing it for several moments; her right hand hovered over a pen on the counter. She shook her head slightly, “no, I got it.”
She quickly grabbed the pen, clicking the end to reveal the ballpoint before scratching out their address onto the back of the card. She held it out to Henry Sr., “It’s really close, just head left for a few blocks, round the corner and you’re there.”
The shopkeeper took the card, pausing for a moment when he noticed that it was actually two stuck together. He separated them and handed the blank one back to Emma.
“I’ll um,” she swallowed heavily, unable to really regain her train of thought since looking at the card, “I’ll tell our doorman to be expecting you so just tell him your name and that you’re there to see us and he should let you right in.”
Henry Sr.’s eyes watered as he smiled, “Is there anything I can bring?”
Emma shook her head with a shrug, “Nope, just yourself.”
“Then I shall see you both tomorrow.” He ruffled Henry’s hair affectionately as he walked them out of the store.
Henry was bouncing with every step, clutching his new book tightly to his chest. Emma just couldn’t seem to shake the fogginess that had settled in her brain.
“Are you ok, Mom?” Henry asked, peering up at her, his face scrunched slightly in concern.
“Yeah,” Emma responded quickly, “yeah, I’m fine kid,” hoping to appease him. She saw his head bob out of the corner of her eye.
“So…” he dragged the word out, “did you just really like Henry Sr.’s business cards or what?”
Emma felt her feet hitch as she nearly stopped walking, “What? Why do you ask that?” She felt her pulse quicken and a warmth rose in her cheeks.
Her mind was racing with a million things yet nothing all at once and she couldn’t for the life of her figure it out.
“You’ve still got it,” Henry gestured towards her hand; the small card was clutched securely in her fingers.
“Oh,” Emma stuttered, “I guess I just forgot to put it back.” She offered it to him, “Here, use it for a bookmark or something.”
Henry seemed to contemplate whether or not the card was worthy of bookmark status before shrugging slightly and taking it, sticking it securely in the front of the book.
They walked the rest of the way to their apartment building in silence but as they stepped onto the elevator Henry spoke up again.
“Hey Mom…”
“Yeah Kid?”
Henry paused, turning towards her, “Thanks for inviting Henry Sr. to dinner.”
Emma wrapped one arm around his shoulders, pulling him into her side and dropping a kiss onto the top of his head.
“No problem kiddo.” She leaned her cheek against his hair until a small ding signaled that they’d arrived at their floor.
The next evening Emma moved swiftly about the kitchen, checking the temperature of the turkey in the oven, stirring the gravy on the stove and tossing some green beans in a pan.
It was surprising really, how effortlessly she moved about the kitchen. Before she’d gone to prison, an average meal had consisted of a bag of chips and whatever microwave meal she had on hand, but getting out and having Henry seemed to have changed her in someway.
The phrase domestic goddess came to mind, as if she’d suddenly seemed to know all the right things to do and cook so that she could take care of, not only herself, but her newborn baby as well. Not that she’d actually cooked him full meals when he was a baby but still the knowledge was just there. She chalked it up to all the books she’d read and television she’d watched during her time in prison.
A knock at the door pulled her from her cooking zone.
“Henry, grab the-,” she called out but realized he was already on his feet and nearly to the door.
“Merry Christmas!” She heard him exclaim from the hallway.
Henry Sr.’s deep, rumbling laugh came next before he replied, “And a very Merry Christmas to you, young man.”
As they came into view Emma glanced up from the stove, “Merry Christmas,” she smiled widely.
“Merry Christmas, Emma,” he replied, breathing in deeply through his nose, “Why, it smells absolutely delicious!”
Emma’s smile grew even wider, “Thank you. It’ll be twenty minutes or so; would you like a glass of wine?”
The old man removed his red scarf from around his neck and unbuttoned his pea coat, “You wouldn’t happen to have any apple cider would you?”
Emma laughed, “Oh no, not you too.” She glanced towards Henry, who was taking the scarf and pea coat to hang up.
“You like apple cider too?” He asked excitedly, as if he knew of no one else on Earth who liked apple cider.
Henry Sr. leaned down, “It’s my favorite,” he whispered conspiratorially.
“Mine too,” Henry, mimicked his hushed voice.
Emma rolled her eyes fondly, “Why don’t you grab him a glass.”
The boy complied before leading the old man towards the couch.
Henry’s Christmas present sat on the coffee table; its golden letters gleamed brightly.
“Are you liking it so far?” The old man asked, easing himself down onto the couch.
“I haven’t actually started it yet,” Henry replied, grabbing the book and pulling it onto his lap, “I was hoping we could read it together. You always make stories sound so much better.”
Henry Sr. chuckled, “of course,” he took pulled the book so that it was half on his lap, “Once Upon A Time…”
Henry listened attentively as the shopkeeper read the book aloud. He brushed his fingers across the intricate illustrations. A few pages into the story he gasped softly.
“Mom!” He called over the back of the sofa.
“What’s up,” she called back.
“There’s a character in here named after you,” he replied excitedly.
“Well it’s not exactly an unusual name, kiddo,” she responded, pulling the turkey out of the oven to let it rest.
“I know,” Henry gave her a look that clearly said, how stupid do you think I am Mom? “It’s just not a name you usually see in fairy tales.”
Emma nodded her head slightly, “I guess you’re right about that.”
Henry returned his attention back to the book as Henry Sr. continued reading.
It was during a story about The Evil Queen that the old man paused; he gazed fondly at the illustration of the character.
“What is it?” The boy asked, taking in the change in Henry Sr.’s demeanor as he sighed.
“You know Henry, these stories…” he trailed off quietly, “…they are quite black and white.” He glanced towards the boy to see if he was following. “They depict good versus evil, light versus dark, but the world…it isn’t really like that.”
The boys face scrunched curiously before he spoke up, “I know. Mom actually talks about that a lot, about how there’s a lot of grey area around things and stuff and how you just need to be the best person you can be and hope that other people are doing the same thing. But that sometimes good people do bad things and bad people do good things and really it’s not so much one versus the other but a sliding scale and people can fall any place on there.” He glanced over his shoulder towards his mom. “She says to always put yourself in the other persons shoes; see things from their point of view.”
“Your mom is a very smart woman,” Henry Sr. replied. He angled the book towards Henry, “What do you see in this picture?”
Henry glanced at it, “The Evil Queen.”
Henry Sr. nodded, “and…”
The boy looked at the picture again. There weren’t any other characters and really not much in the background besides some trees. He studied the character, this woman in the intricate black dress with an extravagant feathered collar. Her long, dark hair was pulled up to the top of her head and flowed off to one side. Her face…
“She looks…” Henry started, tracing her facial features, “…she looks sad.”
The old man nodded, “These stories are told from the heroes perspective but the pictures capture things the words cannot.”
“Why is she sad?” Henry asked.
“Why do you think she’s sad?”
Henry contemplated the picture, tilting his head slightly in thought, “Maybe she doesn’t like doing these bad things. Maybe she was hurt and is taking it out on Snow White and Prince Charming.” He looked up to Henry Sr., his forehead crinkling sadly, “maybe she wants to be good…but she can’t.”
The old man took in a shuddering breath, his eyes watering slightly.
“What is it?” The boy asked, his brow furrowing even more.
Henry Sr. wiped at his eyes, “It’s nothing,” he said softly, “You just…you remind me a lot of my daughter sometimes. You make the same facial expressions. It’s quite uncanny really.”
“Dinner!” Emma called from the kitchen, surprising them both slightly.
Henry glanced at her before turning back to the old man. He smiled before giving him a tight hug and bouncing off the couch towards the dinner table.
The meal was, ‘simply exquisite,’ as Henry Sr. put it and it truly surprised Emma how easily they all conversed. There were no awkward silences and Henry’s bright, bubbling laughter filled the room more often than not. Henry Sr. had enough stories to fill a hundred lifetimes it seemed.
After dinner the two Henry’s cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher as Emma cleaned up the kitchen.
“I’m going to hazard a guess,” she started, flinging a towel over her shoulder, “and say that you enjoy apple pie.” She fixed the old man with a friendly stare, arching an eyebrow at him.
“You would be correct,” he replied jovially, glancing towards the oven where indeed an apple pie was nearly finished baking.
“I’d ask you if you shared Henry’s obsession with books too but I think that answer is pretty self-evident,” she laughed and soon the other two joined her.
Later that night, after Henry Sr. had left with a full belly and even fuller heart, and the younger Henry had been put to bed, Emma found herself lying in her own bed, her eyes unfocused as she stared up towards the ceiling.
As wonderful a life as she and Henry had lived, she had to admit they didn’t often experience as much joy and happiness as she’d felt that evening. There was just something about that old man, and his kind eyes. She saw a little bit of Henry in him, as odd as that seemed but as she closed her eyes to drift off to sleep that night she did so with a smile on her face.
She’d never understood the idea of ‘family holidays’, getting together with the ones you love to celebrate. It had always just been her and Henry but for the first time she truly felt like they’d had a real family Christmas.
The next week passed quickly, with Henry enjoying all his new gifts and Emma enjoying simply spending time with him, although if she were honest with herself she would be glad when school started back up.
New Year’s Eve rolled around and Emma was doing paperwork at her desk when Henry came bursting out of his bedroom.
“Mom can we go down to Mills?” He asked. His eyes were wide and verged on frantic.
“Hold up kid, what’s the matter?” She responded, turning in her chair to face him.
“I just…” he clutched his book tightly to him and shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, “…I just have some questions for Henry Sr. about this book.”
Emma threw him a sympathetic glance, “sorry kiddo, I have to finish up this paperwork,” she glanced towards the huge stack of papers on her desk, “serves me right for saving it for the last day of the year,” she muttered.
“Well…can I go?” Henry asked cautiously. She’d never let him go by himself before and as short a distance as it was, New York City wasn’t exactly the safest place for a 12-year-old to be walking around by himself, especially on New Year’s Eve.
“I dunno kid, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“I’ll be ok!” Henry piped up, “I’ll take the cell and call you when I get there and when I’m on my way home and I won’t go anywhere else or make any detours.”
Emma arched an eyebrow at him. She hadn’t seen him so worked up in a while.
“PLUS,” Henry added, “Mom I’m almost 13 and no matter what you say, it is not cool for a 13-year-old to have his mom walk him to school.”
Emma had to give him that one. It’s not like she had a lot of experience to draw on, but she imagined had she had parents that hovered and escorted her to school when she was a teenager, she would think it was pretty ridiculous too.
“Okay,” she relented, “but you call me!”
Henry was already taking off down the hallway, “Ok!” He called over his shoulder.
“I love you!” Emma called after him. His reply was cut off by the door shutting behind him. She shook her head and went back to her paperwork, though her leg bounced nervously, waiting for the phone to ring.
Henry sprinted down the hallway; he tapped the elevator button repeatedly, as if that would make it show up any faster. People must have thought he was crazy barreling down the sidewalks and more than once he sprinted across the crosswalk at the last second. His mom would be pissed if she saw him but at the moment he didn’t care, he had to get to the shop.
The bell jingled loudly over the door as he pushed it open, his chest heaving, gasping for breath.
“Henry!” The old man looked up from where he was bent over the register. He took in Henry’s wind-whipped hair and tousled appearance before straightening up, a strange look of calm resolve taking over his features.
Henry took a few deep breaths before marching up to the counter and slamming the book down. He opened it to a page, bookmarked with the shop card, and jabbed his finger down on the image depicted on the page.
“You’re in this book,” he said firmly. It was no question and quite frankly there needn’t be. The man in the book was Henry Sr., there could be no doubt; it was a picture perfect illustration of him. “Why are you in this book?” Henry questioned.
The old man came around the counter and gestured to the back of the store where a few overstuffed chairs sat. As the boy made his way to the back Henry Sr. locked the shop door and turned the 'open' sign to 'closed'.
When he got to the back of the store he was greeted by Henry, who fixed him with a steely glare as he sat on the edge of one of the chairs. His arms were crossed stiffly with the book resting on the small table in front of him.
Henry Sr. lowered himself gently into the chair opposite him.
“Henry, I’m going to tell you something and if may seem unbelievable but well…” he trailed off, “it is quite unbelievable but I’m asking you to believe me and trust that what I’m telling you is the truth.”
The boy nodded but held up a hand to stop Henry Sr. from continuing. He silently pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed.
“Hi Mom,” he said into the phone after a few moments, “yeah I’m here.” He paused as Emma spoke. “Mom, yes I’m actually at the bookshop, where else would I be?” He sighed dramatically before holding the phone out to Henry Sr. “She wants to make sure I’m really here,” he explained.
The old man chuckled before taking the phone and putting it to his ear, “Hello Emma…yes…yes he got here all right.” Henry could hear his mom’s voice but couldn’t understand what she was saying, “Why don’t I walk him home when we’re done, save you from worrying? ...It’s quite alright.” He smiled and handed the phone back to Henry.
“Satisfied?” He asked with a roll of his eyes. Emma must have been because he quickly said goodbye followed by a quick, “I love you too Mom.”
After putting the phone back in his pocket he once again fixed Henry Sr. with that stare that implied he knew much more than he was letting on.
“Spill it.”
Henry Sr. took a deep breath, “All these stories,” he gestured towards the book, “are true.” Henry narrowed his eyes suspiciously but didn’t say anything. “The Emma in this story is your mother.” At this Henry’s eyes widened in surprise. “Snow White and Prince Charming are your grandparents and just like the story says, they placed your mother in an enchanted wardrobe to save her from the curse The Evil Queen cast.”
“You don’t have to call her that,” Henry said quietly after a moment.
“Who?”
“The Evil Queen, you don’t have to call her that,” Henry answered, “If what you’re saying is true then that makes her your daughter. You shouldn’t have to call her The Evil Queen.”
The old man smiled gently but continued on, “Your mother arrived in this world, appearing abandoned on the side of the road. You know that she grew up an orphan and eventually met your father and…well…” he trailed off suddenly quite uncomfortable.
Henry couldn’t help but purse his lips and give a slight roll of his eyes, “I’m not a baby, I know about the birds and the bees or the stork or whatever you want to refer to it as.”
“Right, right,” Henry Sr. replied, “well yes they…did that and then your mother gave birth to you. Now…” he met Henry’s eyes to make sure the boy was listening carefully, “this is where you may have some trouble believing me.”
“Because believing that fairy tales are real was so easy?” Henry asked incredulously.
The old man shrugged slightly, “Well you have a point but still, this is the important part.”
“Wait,” Henry interrupted again, “how did you get here? To our world?”
“I will get to that point, don’t you worry,” Henry Sr. replied, “So your mother gave birth to you and here’s where the story changes. She…” he paused again, presumably to gather his gumption, “she put you up for adoption Henry.”
“What? No she didn’t!” Henry broke in.
The old man held up a hand, “Henry I’m going to be telling you a lot of things you, more than likely, will not believe are true and if you keep interrupting, we will likely not finish this until next year.” He chuckled slightly at his own joke but Henry remained stoic.
“That’s only 8 hours away,” he replied, deadpan.
“Well you can’t blame an old man for trying,” Henry Sr. cleared his throat, “like I was saying your mother gave you up for adoption,” he glanced towards Henry to see if he would interject again but the boy was silent, “now the curse that my daughter, Regina, cast, it transported the people of The Enchanted Forest to a small town in Maine called Storybrooke.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Henry shrugged.
“Yes, well you wouldn’t as it was created along with the curse and was enchanted to be invisible to the outside world. The people of the town, save for Regina, all lost their memories of being fairy tales and went about their new lives in town, every day was the same as the last and no one could tell you really how they came to live there or when they started whatever job they had been cursed with.” He paused to clear his throat before standing, “I’m going to make some tea, otherwise I fear I will lose my voice before this story is over. Would you like some?”
Henry’s eyebrows were furrowed as he stared down at the book, leafing through and looking at the different pictures.
“Ok,” he said quietly and it nearly broke Henry Sr.’s heart to hear the underlying sadness but it was tinged with a bit of resolve as acceptance crept into the boy. After coming back with the tea Henry Sr. sat back down again, glancing at Henry Jr. to see if he was ready to run out the door or not. “So,” the boy started, “the fairy tale characters were transported to Storybrooke and no one remembers who they are but Regina.”
“That’s right,” the old man nodded, smiling slightly, “now Regina thought that this curse would bring her the happiness that she had always wanted but it didn’t, however that took her many years to realize. But 12 years ago she adopted a baby, whose young mother had just given him up for adoption.”
Henry’s eyes snapped up at this, “me?” The word slipped through his lips on a whisper and Henry Sr. nodded.
“Regina adopted you and for 11 years she raised you and loved you as if she had given birth to you herself but, much like her, you were unhappy in that small town where nothing seemed to change until one day your school teacher, Mary Margaret who was actually Snow White, gave you a book.” He tapped his finger on the page before them, “This book.”
Henry nodded as he took in the information but his brow was still furrowed, unconvinced.
“You read this story and you believed it. You believed that Regina was not your birth mother so you set out to find the woman who was and eventually you did. You found Emma and she returned with you to Storybrooke because, as the book says, she is The Savior and she was destined to break the curse.”
“Did she?” Henry asked excitedly, scooting further up in his seat, nearly falling off. This was, after all, where the book had left off.
Henry Sr. nodded, “She did eventually. Now a lot of things happened in Storybrooke and Fairytale Land and other worlds that Emma and Regina and some of the others traveled to and your mothers didn’t get along very well for quite some time.” Henry wrinkled his nose slightly at this prompting the old man to ask, “What is it?”
“It’s just weird to hear you say 'mothers' is all,” Henry responded, “Not bad weird, just different.”
“Well it’s true,” Henry Sr. continued, “they got to a point where they accepted that they were both your mother and started to parent you as such. Now, as I said a lot of things happened and they all fought many battles, some against each other, some teamed up against other enemies but eventually one enemy got the best of them.”
“Who?” Henry asked, his interest starting peak as he was sucked into the story, however true it may or may not have been.
“Peter Pan.”
The boy snorted with laughter, “You’re kidding right? Peter Pan? He’s like a kid.”
“Well, remember how I was telling you that fairy tales don’t always get the story just right?” Henry nodded. “It’s very true when it came to Pan. He was very devious and managed to get off Neverland and come to Storybrooke and when he did he stole the curse that Regina had used originally.” He paused with a sigh, “I know this must sound very confusing but-”
“No, it ok!” Henry interrupted him, “just…keep going.”
“Well, he recast the curse and he would have succeeded in creating a new terrible world for you all but your mother, Regina I mean, figured out a way to save you,” he paused and set his chin in his hand, tapping his cheek with his index finger as he pondered something. “Well, figured out isn’t exactly the right way to say it. She…saw it. She had a vision of what needed to be done. She would need to completely undo her original curse. You see Emma didn’t break it completely; she simply made it so that everyone regained their memories. If the spell had been undone all the way, everyone would’ve been transported back to Fairytale Land.”
“So, Regina was going to send everyone back to save them from the new curse?” Henry asked.
“That’s right but you see the way it had to be done, only those people originally from Fairytale Land would be transported back, which was everyone except-”
“Except me…” Henry answered softly.
Henry Sr. nodded, “Except you, Henry. Now the only people who could cross the town line were you and your mothers so you could have escaped but without Regina there to undo the original curse they would have all been doomed to whatever horrible nightmare life Pan had planned for them. So, your mothers had to make a choice, although they both agreed really there were no other options. Regina would stay behind and make sure everyone got back to Fairytale Land and The Enchanted Forest and Emma would take you and be saved.” The old man paused to take a long sip of tea, his voice already becoming raspy with use.
“So, why don’t we remember any of this?” Henry questioned.
“When Regina undid the curse it didn’t just take the people back, it erased Storybrooke completely. No,” he caught himself, “not erased. It made it so Storybrooke had never even existed, and when it vanished so would your memories of it.” He swallowed thickly, “So as a final gift to you and to Emma, Regina gave you memories, mostly her own actually. Memories where you were never put up for adoption; where Emma had always been your mother and you had been happy all your lives together.”
“So, my memories of like learning to walk and talk and stuff were actually with Regina, not my mom?” Henry’s mind was spinning with all of this information. It was too much really but for some reason, a part of him, however small, believed it.
“That’s right. Granted they’re not exactly the same as what happened but she made sure you were happy.”
“Ok…” Henry said slowly, then once again with more resolve, “ok. How do you come into this? In the book you die, Regina has to kill you to make the curse happen, so how are you here?”
The old man smiled sadly, “I’m glad you asked.”
“Like I had a choice,” Henry said, good-naturedly.
“I was somehow revived when the curse was undone, since it was as if it had never been cast in the first place. I just woke up in bed one day. I remembered everything; every unfortunate detail but still, I remembered. A few hours passed as I reacquainted myself with, well, living. Before I knew it there was the sound of sharp footsteps echoing through the castle halls. It was Regina.” He paused to wipe at his eyes, which had started to water, “I have never been happier in my whole life than I was in that moment.”
“But weren’t you angry with her? Mad or frightened or anything?” Henry asked, and the old man had to contain himself because this was one of those times when Henry was perfectly mimicking Regina’s facial expression of you can’t be serious right now.
“There was a moment of fear, yes,” he explained, “but from the moment I saw her face I knew she had changed. I didn’t know how of course but she took the next few days to explain everything to me. For some reason, all the people from The Enchanted Forest retained their memories of Storybrooke. We could never reason how but it never mattered much.” He smiled fondly towards Henry, “She told me all about you. She loves you so much Henry, I hope you remember and know that someday soon.” Henry glanced away, still unsure of how he felt about having another parent, another mom and rightfully so. “She regaled me with stories of how her and Emma had been at each others throats since the moment they met but it was just because they were both strong, and yes, stubborn women and they both love you fiercely. She told me what she had to do, to give you up and really that’s why I’m here.”
The boy sighed lightly, “It’s a good story and all but I just…I can’t remember it. I don’t know if I’ll ever really be able to accept it.”
“Henry,” he grabbed the boy's hands in his own and leaned towards him to gain his full attention, “if there is one thing I’ve learned it’s that if you believe something, truly believe it in your heart and you love or care about something deeply enough, anything is possible. Anything.”
Henry was a bit taken aback by the old man’s fierce intention but nodded that he understood.
“She misses you, Henry.”
“Who?”
“Your mother, Regina, she misses you so dearly. I know that she thought she was being discreet about it, but I could hear her cry herself to sleep every night. She has no love for life anymore. Even in her darkest times she still had that spark of life in her eyes and now…well it is no more. I couldn’t stand to see her like that Henry, it broke my heart everyday and…I think it was breaking hers too. Slowly and painfully, like a wound that would not heal. So you see Henry, I had to come to this world; I had to find you.”
“To find me?” Henry asked.
“And Emma,” the old man added, “to help you remember and hopefully to help you somehow get to The Enchanted Forest, back to your families.”
Henry sat in a partial state of shock. Him? Going to Fairytale Land? Grandson of Snow White and Prince Charming? It was all so much to take in. There was a muted buzz coming from his pocket and after a moment his dazed state was broken. He pulled the vibrating phone out and checked the screen.
“Hi Mom,” he answered.
“Hey kid, dinner’s cooking. You gonna be home soon?”
“Uh, yeah,” Henry stuttered slightly, “yeah we’ll start heading there now.”
“Ok, see you soon.”
“Ok, bye mom.”
He hung up and glanced up from the phone to look at the old man across from him. He had turned the book to that first picture of The Evil Queen, his daughter, Regina.
My mom, Henry thought to himself in disbelief.
He watched as tired, wrinkled fingers reverently traced the drawing.
“I want to believe,” Henry said quietly. “I don’t want you to be sad anymore; I don’t want Regina to be sad anymore.”
Henry Sr. smiled sadly, “I had only just gotten her back but…I had to leave, I had to try to find you.”
Henry placed his hand over the old man’s, “Then we’ll find a way,” he said, with more resolve than he felt but there was this strange inkling in the back of his mind. Like when you smell a certain scent and it reminds you of something from your childhood but you don’t know what, but it’s there, somewhere.
Henry felt that.
“Well I’d better get you home,” Henry Sr. said, lifting himself from the chair.
Henry nodded and they made their way out of the shop in silence, locking it behind them.
The walk back home was slower than usual with Henry Sr. but it gave Henry time to think. Like usual, his hugged his book tightly to his chest. Every once in a while he would rest his chin on it and sigh, trying to muddle through all the stories and pictures floating around in his head.
As they stood in the elevator he had a sudden epiphany, “Wait,” he said turning to the old man, “if Regina adopted me and she’s my mom then…you kind of are my grandfather aren’t you?”
The elevator dinged and Henry stepped off but Henry Sr. remained inside, he didn’t really need to escort the boy all the way to the door after all but before the doors closed he leaned in, tapped his nose with a finger and whispered, “Where do you think you got your love of apples from?” He straightened up as the doors closed and gave Henry a wink.
Henry couldn’t help but smile. There was just something that felt…right about everything the old man had told him and if it was true then his mom, well his other mom, was horribly depressed without him. He pictured a woman in a crisp pantsuit, pacing worriedly in a large mansion. He didn’t know why but he did.
That’s my mom.
He slowly made his way into the apartment, calling, “Mom, I’m home.”
“Hey kid,” Emma replied, sticking her head out from the kitchen, “where’s Gramps? I was gonna invite him for dinner.”
“Oh,” Henry set the book down heavily on the table, “he had to get back to the shop.”
He didn’t know if that was true or not but it sounded reasonable enough.
Emma shrugged and went back to finishing the food, “So what was so important?” She asked lightly.
Henry’s head spun. What was so important? Everything. Everything was so important and there was no way his mom was going to believe him.
“Just nerdy book stuff Mom, you wouldn’t get it,” he played it off, hoping she wouldn’t question him.
“Oh, ok,” Emma said sarcastically but gave him a smile as she set his plate down in front of him, “Made your favorite.”
Henry glanced down at the lasagna on his plate and wondered if it was Regina’s favorite too.
That night, after staying up late to countdown to the New Year, they both lay on Henry’s bed. It was tradition; they would reflect on the year and talk about their resolutions, hopes and wishes for the new year.
They were also absentmindedly leafing through Henry’s book.
Well, Emma was absentminded, Henry was anything but.
She flicked the card bookmark between her fingers, pausing every so often to run her thumb over the embossed apple, “So what do want this year to bring?”
Henry paused, his eyes trained on a picture of a baby blanket with the name Emma sewn onto it.
“I wish this year would bring us a family,” he said resolutely.
Emma smiled sadly at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “I wish I could do that for you kiddo.”
“Really?” Henry perked up a bit, “Do you really wish that?”
Emma glanced down at him in confusion, “Well,” she started, “sure kid, why wouldn’t I?”
“You wish we could find our family?” Henry pushed. It may have seemed crazy but he just felt like if he could get his mom to wish that, to really wish that and if he wished it, well…maybe wishes do come true, maybe they could get to Fairytale Land somehow.
Emma hugged him tighter, leaning her head against his as she yawned, “Yeah,” which, of course, caused Henry to yawn as she finished, “I wish we could find our family.”
Within minutes they had both fallen asleep, fully clothed on Henry’s bed, to the sound of New Year’s fireworks still crackling in the distance.