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Killian watched Henry with an appraising expression.
Emma had left the lad in his care while she went to speak to an old friend in preparation for their leaving New York. The trust she was showing him was monumental, and he was grateful, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to interact with this Henry. This lad was so different from the Henry he’d heard about over the past year from his extended family. This Henry hadn’t grown up in Storybrooke with a book of tales from the enchanted forest.
This Henry had grown up in the land without magic.
Killian had briefly panicked when he realized how alien he would seem to the boy. He’d grabbed Emma’s arm just before she went through the door, asking her to wait. She’d looked at him with those wide, green eyes, her breath catching at his nearness, and she had whispered that he’d make her late.
“What do I say to him, Swan?” he half-pleaded, letting his desperation show. “He doesn’t know me.”
“Just ask him about his favorite TV show,” she said with a mirthful smirk, “then he’ll talk all night.”
Killian nodded, still not releasing her. David had told him a little about this world’s entertainment, so he understood the term “tee-vee,” but the pirate still wasn’t convinced he’d be able to hold a conversation about such things with a precocious lad.
“I’ve gotta go,” Emma said patiently, looking pointedly at his hand on her bicep.
Killian reluctantly released her arm and stepping back.
“Be safe,” he said to her, meeting her eyes, willing her to understand the depth of his discomfort at letting her out of his sight again.
“It’s fine,” she said, smiling a little, “I’ll be back in an hour or two. I promise.”
Killian nodded. Emma smiled.
And then she was gone.
With a little sigh, Killian squared his shoulders and went back into the sitting room where Henry was sprawled out on a sofa.
The young man had some sort of magical (non-magical, he reminded himself) box in his hands. It was a shiny little thing, possessing a tiny picture screen. Henry touched the little box often and the picture changed, causing strange sounds to emanate from the device.
Henry didn’t seem concerned with Killian in the least. When Emma had introduced them and told Henry she’d be back later, Henry had just eyed Killian up and down and shrugged. Emma had vaguely explained that Killian was an old friend (which made Killian smile to himself) and that he was from someplace far away, but Henry hadn’t seemed overly interested. He’d let him mom kiss him goodbye and gone back to staring at his little screen.
Killian sank into a chair opposite Henry. After several minutes, he grew tired of watching the boy stare into the glowing device he clutched before him.
“Well, lad,” Killian said, “It seems we have some time to fill. What say you and I have a conversation?”
“About what?” Henry asked in a bored tone, his eyes flicking up briefly before returning to the screen.
“Your mother mentioned you have a fondness for a particular show,” Killian said. “Perhaps you could tell me about that?”
The glowing screen lowered fractionally, and Henry met Killian’s gaze for a moment. The boy looked mildly surprised.
“You really want to know?” the lad asked, cautiously hopeful.
“Seems a better occupation than sitting in silence,” Killian said, offering a friendly grin.
The little screen went dim in Henry’s hands as the boy cocked his head to the side and chewed on his bottom lip.
“You have a willing, captive audience,” Killian said. “Please, enlighten me. What is the show about?”
Killian folded his right hand over his stiff, gloved left and looked at the boy expectantly.
Henry’s face brightened by degrees, first one corner of his mouth curled up, then the other. His eyes squinted happily as he realized Killian was serious. Henry’s whole face lit up as a child’s countenance often does when he is asked about his favorite things.
“So,” Henry said in an excited tone, the device in his lap suddenly forgotten as he launched into the tale, “there’s this guy from another world, and he’s got these, like, really blue eyes, and he wears this leather jacket. It’s like his trademark or something.”
Killian grinned at the boy’s unbridled enthusiasm.
“And he’s a lot older than he looks, you know?” Henry went on, “He’s been alive for, like, centuries, but you can’t tell by looking at him.”
Wait, what?
Killian’s smile froze on his face.
“So, he’s got this ship—he stole it from his own people; he just ran away in it, isn’t that weird?” Henry continued. “And the ship is, like, well, it’s not magic, really, but it’s kinda magic? It can go places that a regular ship can’t go and stuff.”
Killian felt a tightness in his chest as the boy spoke.
Emma had once told him that he was a character in a story in her world, but could he really be in Henry’s favorite story? And how could the storytellers know so much about his life?
“So, the guy, he meets this blonde girl from our world,” Henry said, beaming, “and they have this adventure together, and the guy realizes that maybe she’s special, so he invites her on his ship. And they go on adventures, and they, like, flirt a lot, but nothing happens—you know, happens-happens—but then they go on this one mission where they have to save the world, and they both change, but in different ways.”
Killian felt his mouth fall open, so he forced it closed, trying to keep his composure.
“So, the guy changes,” Henry said, “and the girl is kinda suspicious at first, because he’s all different from how he was, but they still go on adventures, and they flirt more. And the guy meets the girl’s parents—well, he’d already met her mom, but, anyway—her mom doesn’t like him at first, but his dad kinda does, and he helps the mom and the dad get back together, because they were stuck in different worlds from each other. And the girl’s old boyfriend comes back for awhile, but then he goes to another world and they never think they’re gonna see him again, but they do later, and everyone is really surprised—Oh! And the boyfriend’s name was different in the other world. Isn’t that weird?”
“Mm,” Killian said noncommittally.
Killian was having trouble keeping his face neutral as he listened to the tale. The boy couldn’t still be talking about him—He couldn’t be talking about him at all, that was ridiculous. There must be some other explanation. How could their tale be a story in this world?
Could it be part of the memories that Regina had given the boy? Could she have slipped their tale into his mind as a work of fiction, a way to stay connected to the lad?
But why would the queen have given Henry his story?
Killian focused on listening to the boy instead of worrying about the reasons.
“But then this big bad thing happens in the girl’s world,” Henry said, his brow crinkling as he recalls the details, “and the guy realizes that they’re gonna have to, like, seal the worlds away from each other so he’ll never see the girl again, but she doesn’t want to go. In the end, she and the guy get trapped in different worlds, and the girl’s really sad, and she’s crying when they finally say goodbye, but they can’t touch each other, which is really kinda sad, you know?”
Killian swallowed the lump in his throat, leaning forward, his attention focused entirely on Henry as the boy looked at him to make sure he was still listening.
“That is sad,” Killian whispered, his voice cracking a little as he remembered bidding Henry’s mother farewell: Emma’s vainly-fought tears, his attempt to draw a smile, their veiled declarations. “It is quite sad.”
“I know, right?” Henry said enthusiastically, clearly thrilled that he still had Killian’s attention but unaware of Killian’s distress, “so the girl was stuck in the other world, and she and the guy were kept away from each other forever. Well, it seemed like forever, but maybe it wasn’t that long. I think it was a different amount of time for each of them, though.”
“But they were reunited?” Killian asked, enrapt.
“Yeah!” Henry said, his eyes lighting up at Killian’s interest. “The girl needed the guy again, because there was this big danger. She sent him a message, all the way across the worlds, like a dream; something only he would understand. So, he went looking for her, all the way across the worlds, and he found her. He figured out how to find her and he went to get her.”
Killian smiled, his lips pressed together, his brow creased. He’d had so many dreams about Emma, about what she’d said to him. She’d told him that it was good that he would think of her. In his dreams, it meant she wanted him to find her. But how could that be in a story in this world? Regina couldn’t have known it. He’d never spoken it aloud.
“And is that where the story ends?” Killian asked, his voice raw and wistful.
“No, not even,” Henry said. “There’s lots more!”
“R-really?” Killian stammered, blinking, trying to keep the shock from his face.
“Yeah,” Henry said. “Several seasons, and the show’s still going, too.”
“Is that so?” Killian said, eyebrows rising. “Then what happened after the man found his blonde companion in the other world?”
Henry grinned, happy to have an interested audience.
“Okay, so, when he found her, when they saw each other again, they were both so excited, and they ran toward each other and I think they were probably going to kiss and stuff, but then an alien showed up and it shot the guy—blam!—and he was dying!”
Killian leaned back, his mouth popping open again.
This was not a turn he had expected.
“But he was able to use his regeneration power to not die,” Henry went on, “and it actually ended up making a, like, copy of the guy, so there were two of him.”
“Two of the blue-eyed man in the leather coat?” Killian asked, bewildered.
“Well, no, he’d changed, I said. He didn’t wear the leather jacket anymore after he changed, and he didn’t have blue eyes anymore; they were brown. But, anyway, there were two of the guys then, and they helped the girl and everyone to save the world again.”
Killian felt more than a little sheepish at his vain assumptions. Had it been coincidence? Wish fulfillment? This story wasn’t his, and he felt daft for being egotistical enough to think it was. He shook his head at his own foolishness.
“What happened then?” Killian asked, eager to keep the boy talking and curious about the tale.
“Okay, so, they had to seal the worlds apart again, so they went back to the place that they said goodbye before, and the girl asked the two versions of the guy if they loved her. Well, the first one—the original one—kinda wouldn’t answer her, but the second one did, so she kissed him and he stayed with her in her world while the other one left in his magic ship.”
“He just left her there?” Killian asked, aghast.
“Well, yeah,” Henry said. “She had the copy version of the guy and her family and everything, so he left her there so she could have a happy life.”
“And did she?” Killian asked softly.
“Well, I guess?” Henry said, his face crinkling a little as he shrugged. “They don’t ever show her again—well, only one time, but it’s not really the same cuz it’s in the past—No, wait, twice, but that one shouldn’t even count, and it didn’t really make sense, and it’s not really her… But, anyway, the show is about the guy, so they follow him as he keeps going on adventures.”
“He just keeps going, alone?” Killian said, frowning.
“For a while, yeah,” Henry said. “But then he has to change again, and he becomes funnier instead of sad—which is way better, you know?—and he meets new friends to travel with, like, this guy that waits a thousand years to protect his wife. How cool is that? And this really cool lady that’s kind of crazy—she was actually trained to kill the guy, but then she fell in love with him. They get married.”
Killian sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, his brow furrowed. Henry watched him expectantly, hoping he’d ask more questions. The boy seemed worried that he’d overwhelmed the strange man.
“What is it about the story that draws your fascination, lad?” Killian asked.
“Well, the show’s exciting, with monsters and adventures and stuff,” Henry said, “but the guy—the main character guy—he’s like, he’s good, you know? I mean, he’s done these really horrible things in his past. He’s killed people and left people behind. He betrayed his whole world and ran away. He’s alone, really. He doesn’t have anyone from his old home. They’re all gone, dead for centuries. But even with all that, he still tries to be a good man. He makes mistakes, and he does stuff wrong sometimes, and he has a really bad temper, but he just keeps trying. It’s like… It’s about hope, you know? Even after years and years of mistakes, he can still be the hero. That’s just… I like that. It’s cool, you know?”
Killian’s chest felt tight again as he looked at Henry. The boy had the heart of the truest believer, and his favorite story was about a centuries-old pirate that wanted to be a hero.
“You don’t think it’s too late?” Killian asked, searching the boy’s face. “You don’t think hundreds of years of villainy would render one unredeemable?”
“Well, it wasn’t villainy, really,” Henry said, cocking his head to the side. “I mean, he did do some really bad stuff. He killed, like, entire races of people, but he always thought he had good reasons. I mean, sometimes he was just selfish or did stuff for revenge, but most of the time—it was like he had a, uh, like, a code, you know?”
“Aye, lad,” Killian said with a dark little chuckle, “I’m familiar with the concept.”
Killian ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head and looking wistfully out the window into the strange, beautiful world without magic.
“So what do you think?” Henry said after a moment, sounding tentative. “Will you maybe watch it with me sometime?”
Henry looked up at Killian with, big, wide eyes full of hope and wonder.
“Aye, lad,” Killian replied, “that I will.”
Henry’s answering smile warmed Killian’s heart.