Chapter Text
"I don't like it here, Father."
This came suddenly over a bowl of oatmeal as they sat in a booth at what the locals call "Granny's". He had made his son wait until most of the regulars were gone and out of sight. He was very adept at being unnoticed now, and that was exactly how he planned to stay.
"And why is that?" he asked as he took a bite of his own oatmeal.
"It makes you quiet," said his son. That made him pause, mid-bite. He swallowed his food and wiped at his mouth with a napkin before continuing his questioning.
"It makes me quiet, does it?"
"Yes. You're always looking over your shoulder. Are we in danger here, Father?" His son looked up at him with large, worried eyes. Apparently he had not been quite as adept at being unnoticed as he thought. His son knew he was on edge, and that was bad.
"Maybe," he replied. He would not lie to his son. Among all of the other vows he had made since his son had been born, not lying to the boy had been the one he managed to keep up with the most. "I'm not yet certain."
"If we're in danger, we should go home." Home... where they had been for the last thirty years or so. The Land of Untold Stories. He and his son had run away to there before the Queen cast her curse, escaping it and other potentially less than desirable outcomes. They hadn't intended to ever leave. He had been completely content where he was... to forever have his son that he would never lie to, never hurt, never abandon. And for his son to stay a happy child for eternity. But that wasn't fair to his son. While he hadn't planned to come to this... Storybrooke, he realized this was a better place to be. For several reasons.
"We were frozen back home," he replied, moving back to his cooling oatmeal.
"But we were happy."
"Who is to say we cannot be happy here?"
"You aren't," said his son. The boy moved the oatmeal around in his bowl, not even attempting to eat his breakfast.
"I'm nervous. That does not mean I am unhappy."
"But you are unhappy."
He smirked. His boy was so insistent.
"At the moment. But I believe I could be happy."
"Really?" His son finally looked up from the food he wasn't eating, some hope coming into his voice.
"Aye, I believe so."
"How?"
"Well... I've a story that needs playing out."
His son looked confused. True, it's not the way he would have worded it last week. That boy, Henry, the one with the storybook gave him the phrase. The boy was the Mayor's son, from what he could tell. And the Savior's. That bit was rather confusing, but he would not openly question it. The boy had come around to him, asking his name. He wanted to help him play out his story, apparently. He had said his name was Eli. Henry said he would try to find his story in that book, and that perhaps they could finish his story so they could move on. He hoped the boy didn't realize his deception. There were plenty of others who deserved assistance. He wasn't one of them.
And he wasn't entirely certain that the boy would wish to help him once he discovered who "Eli" really was. Especially not with the company he kept. Not with the Queen that would likely kill him once she saw him. Not with his happy family that would look down on anyone such as him. Not with his mother and her one-handed lover. If it played out the way he had thought it would a week ago, happiness was the last thing that would be in store for them. Death. Torture. Pain, loneliness, and a long list of other unpleasant things would be more likely. However... what he had seen here had given him hope. Nervous hope, but still hope. Would he forgive him? Would he allow himself forgiveness? He looked happy here... should he even reveal himself? Should he potentially burst that bubble?
"Eli" had been too deep in thought to hear the bell chime above the door, had been too focused on his inner musings to look to see if someone he did not want to encounter had entered the establishment.
"So, I still can't find your story," said Henry as he slid into the booth beside Eli. He started, surprised to see the boy. Ashamed he could not protect himself from notice.
"I... very much doubt you would find it in there, my boy," he insisted, forcing a pleasant smile onto his face as he acknowledged Henry. His son beamed at the older boy.
"Hi Henry!" His son liked the boy with the book.
"Hey! Right, so like I was saying. I can't find it. But I think I know why," said the boy.
"And why is that, lad?" he asked, both amused at his son's excited face and wary.
"I don't think your name is Eli." Henry didn't look upset or accusatory. He simply looked as if he was stating fact.
"It's not," said his son. "Father just thinks it's safer to lie."
"Oi," said Eli, frowning at his son. "That is hardly it. Eat your breakfast."
His son didn't appear to be at all chastised and simply shrugged as he took another bite.
"Yeah, I get that," said Henry. And for a moment, Eli thought perhaps he might. "But you can trust me. Promise. I just want to help."
"Helping me will likely land you in trouble, lad. Best not worry on it."
"I find trouble whether I want to or not," Henry stated with a laugh. "It's sort of what my family does. That and find each other."
"Find each other?" asked Eli.
"Yeah. Sort of our family motto."
"Do you lose each other often?"
"Umm... yeah. Actually." Henry laughed. Eli didn't think constantly losing your family, so much so that finding each other became the family motto, was particularly funny. He wondered if that included his entire family, even the ones he wasn't related to. It made him wonder if the motto extended to those he didn't even realize he could be related to. He wondered a great many things in Henry's presence. He wondered about his parentage - the boy had two mothers, who was the boy's father? Did he have two of them as well? - his curiosity, his hope. The lad made him wistful. At least if the boy continuously loses his family, isn't it wonderful that they at least find each other? Eli thought it would be a wonderful thing to get as much of his back as possible. It likely wasn't possible for him, though.
"Anyway," Henry interjected, interrupting his thoughts. "You can trust me. My mom, she's the Savior. Returning happy endings is what she does."
"Happy endings?"
"Yeah! And you can get yours once your story plays out."
"That's what Father was just saying!" his son exclaimed. He moved his spoon rather quickly in his excitement and flung his oatmeal against the window.
"Liam!" he scolded, reaching for a napkin to clean up his son's mess. He wished he hadn't said it in an instant. Anonymity was what would keep them safe.
"Sorry, Father."
"Liam, huh? That's my Uncle's name," said Henry. He seemed happy by that fact.
As Eli cleaned, Liam grinned. "It was my brother's name! He's dead though."
"So's my Uncle."
Eli stared at Henry for a moment. For that moment, he wondered yet again. He set the soiled napkin on his plate as he leaned back.
"So! What's your name? I'll have an easier time finding it with that," insisted Henry.
"Lad-"
"Father, you said we could be happy once the story finished!" his son exclaimed. So eager for everything to be over.
"Son, you don't understand."
"I do! Are you afraid to be happy?"
Eli sighed. Henry grinned. Eli found himself a bit irritated at the boy for bringing this up again in front of his son. He didn't appreciate the assault from a small child with so much hope in his eyes.
"It may not... We could be. But it could also end poorly."
"But we could try."
"Yeah!" agreed Henry. "We could. And if we help, maybe it'll end the way you want it to. So... I just need a name." Henry smirked in a way that was too familiar. Eli wondered where he had picked up that habit. The lad held a pen between his fingers, poised over a pad of paper and ready to write once he had the answer he sought. Eli felt he would regret this. It was going to get bad before it got good. But... that was how things needed to be, wasn't it? The worst of the storm always happened just before the eye passed over.
Of course, then the worst of the storm occurred just after the eye came as well, but that portion wasn't quite necessary to remember at the moment. With a reluctant sigh, and a glance at the two hopeful, young faces watching him and waiting for what they wanted, he relented.
"Brennan."