A\N: lrion-aria and I were discussing how Henry is a bit of a brat. After all, he opens by stealing his teacher's credit card and running away, and in the last episode he climbed into an abandoned mine, which, to someone from Nevada, is about as bratty\stupid as it gets. So Graham gets to play daddy. Enjoy.
"I can't handle this."
Regina had brought Henry home alone. A mistake, maybe, but Graham didn't particularly feel like sharing his...relationship...with anyone at the moment, let alone to someone like Swann, who he (good lord, he was pathetic,) actually wanted to approve of him. So he'd filled out paperwork and shared coffee and laughed with Swann until she'd gone home, then braved a fine coastal thunderstorm to find his lover. (Mistress? Who knew at this stage. It got...tangled, especially in his mind.)
And when he'd walked into Regina's icy world, hoping to comfort her and maybe reassure himself that his lover's son was all right, she'd simply spoken.
Graham walked up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist.
"You're nervous." Regina always could read him.
"Apparently," Graham said, trying to lighten the mood, "You're a psychopath."
Regina laughed. It was short, sharp, sudden; it made the lightning flash-no, that was stupid, he was losing his sense of reality again. But it was so easy around her. "Let me guess." Regina mused aloud, sipping from her glass. "Hopper."
"Well, there aren't a lot of certified psychologists in town..."
Graham's gaze followed Regina's. She was looking at her apple tree. Injured, seemingly frail, it stood in the storm as if it were a sunny day. Graham wondered, in this world of beautiful, deadly metaphors, if he was the only one to see the weakness in that apple tree.
The apple tree...what did it feel? What must it be like, to be caught in the storm? Did it never want to lash back or fight or...
The thunder rumbled as, a few seconds late, Graham caught up with his own thoughts.
Oh.
He sighed inwardly. Henry wasn't his job. Yes, the poor boy was terrified, and yes, Graham probably should give Regina a stern warning or two, but really, there wasn't any proof of abuse, so his world was still stable. Still calm, as if nothing could ever shake it.
He tried to ignore the still, sturdy apple tree. The one nothing could kill.
"Graham..." Regina's tone was pleading, and she set her glass down, turning and clinging to him. Graham could feel her trembling. "I can't..." She laughed, a sad, bitter sound. "Oh, look at me," she said, clasping her hands in front of her face, a gesture that must have been a purely womanly one, because Graham had seen Mary Margaret make it too. "I'm so stupid. It's just a temper tantrum. I can handle-"
Graham caught her wrists.
"Regina. Love." He spoke softly, gently. "You're tired, you're angry. Let me talk to him."
Regina raised an eyebrow.
"Well, he is a boy." Graham teased. "Have you ever heard of a fairy tale where the hero stopped just for his mother? Let me try. It can't hurt."
Regina thought. Then, slowly, she nodded. "When you're done," She ordered, reaching out to trace his jaw as she walked away, "Come upstairs."
Graham smiled.
Regina left, and Graham looked out of the window again. The tree was still there. In its branches, you could almost see how it lashed out. How it hated the storm, the pain, the defiance...
Graham tried to remember his father's talks. It was a different era, and Graham wasn't going to say that children should be seen and not heard. But he had something of a plan.
He walked up to Henry's room and knocked on the door.
The boy didn't reply. Graham pushed open the door, and saw Henry laying facedown on the bed in his pajamas, sniffling. Graham had to steel himself to keep from melting. Henry was a sweet, adorable child. But it was about time he heard the word 'no'.
Graham sat beside Henry and rubbed his back.
The boy didn't acknowledge him. Graham gave him a moment before speaking. "I know I'm not your father."
"Then don't try to be!" Henry was in a wild mood, sitting up and kneeling on the bed to shout at him. "Go away! I don't want you!"
Henry tried to swing a pillow at Graham, but he caught it, grabbing Henry's wrists. "Henry...Henry. Stop. Now."
Henry sat down and glared.
"Henry, what's your world called again? The one all of us are from?"
"Enchanted Forest." Henry muttered sullenly.
"All right. And in the Enchanted Forest, there's two leaders, right? Prince Charming and the Evil Queen?"
Henry shrugged, calming a little. "Yeah."
"So who's side are you on?"
Henry looked up sharply. "Charming's, duh." There was a hint of curiosity in the words, though.
Graham took it, raising an eyebrow. "Really? Because after today, I'd have said you were on the Queen's."
"What? But I'm-"
"Stealing, lying, trying to get yourself killed, and that's what I know about, Henry." Graham let go of the boy's wrist, letting firmness creep into his voice.
"But I never did that!"
"Really? Let's see." Graham began to list off the boy's recent 'adventures'. "You stole your teacher's credit card, ran away from your mother more times than I can count, and you just ran into an abandoned mine. Henry, I understand your mother isn't always a good guide for what you should do, but you ran into an incredibly dangerous situation, and you could have died." He fixed Henry with a stern look. "That doesn't sound like you're on Charming's side to me."
Henry looked down.
"Hen." Graham lifted the boy's chin. "I know you. You're a good, sweet boy. But this..." He sighed.
There wasn't a way to explain it. That Henry was just the apple tree, caught between his mother's storm and his own pain, lashing out because he had nothing else. The way Graham thought of it didn't work, and maybe that was where Hopper and Swann kept going wrong. You couldn't think in adult terms with Henry, couldn't think in any terms but his.
But he could try Henry's.
"Hey. Did the Evil Queen ever capture Snow White?"
Henry frowned. "I dunno. I guess."
"So how do you think she felt?" Graham tried to keep an image of Mary Margaret and Regina having a catfight out of his head, because he did not need that image right now. "Sad? Lost? Maybe angry?"
"Why angry?" Henry asked with the innocence that meant you were on the right track.
"Well, she couldn't save herself, could she? And she was hurting very badly. So she was probably angry." Graham set his hand on Henry's. "And maybe, sometimes, she'd try to do things just because she was angry."
Henry thought about it.
"Henry, can I tell you a secret?" Graham leaned in, saying conspiratorially, "If I lived with the Evil Queen, I'd be angry too." He leaned out, raising an eyebrow. "But if you're right, Henry, you're a prince, remember? And princes don't get angry by stealing and running away."
"So what do they do, then?" Henry demanded, still a touch defiant.
Graham was very tempted to say 'homework'. The look on Henry's face would have been priceless. "They tell the truth. They find their friends. And they make sure that when they help, it's actually helping, not giving the rest of us more work to do." He paused. "And above all, the prince remembers that he is ten years old. It's not his job to fight the Evil Queen. It's his job to grow, and learn, and get big. The Evil Queen is someone for the adults to fight. And the prince needs to trust the adults."
Later in life, Henry would look back on this day and realize it was the first time he'd ever heard the word no. Regina's manipulations and everyone else's humoring didn't leave room for real authority in his life, and when he did realize it, he would realize it was the first time the word 'father' had ever meant anything at all.
But for now, the realization was made without any words at all.
"Can...can you really fight her?"
Graham nodded. "Promise."
Henry launched himself at Graham and hugged him.
Graham was...all right, 'surprised' was putting it mildly. But the next instant brought relief and a touch of joy. It was easy to see why Swann wanted to claim this boy. Something in him inspired protectiveness.
He patted Henry's head as kindly as he could, breathing out a sigh of relief. "So it's settled, then? No more stealing, going on missons, running away?"
"Promise." Henry said, sitting up and holding out a pinky.
Graham took it as the solemn oath it was.
Henry yawned and Graham smiled. "Come on, let's get you in bed." He held the covers back for the boy, letting him scramble in, and tucked him in.
"Read me a story?" Henry asked quietly.
Graham picked up the book, sitting on the edge of Henry's bed. "All right, let's see...here we go, The Changeling."
As he read, the storm slowed. It wasn't noticeable until the end of the story, when finally, both tree and boy fell fast asleep.