Sometimes Henry would lay in his bed at night and think.
He would think about school, about his kind teacher that had given him his wonderful book. Or sometimes he would imagine himself in it as one of the characters with the happy ending.
But most of all, he would think about her.
His mother.
She was his adoptive mother of course but since she was the only parental figure he had ever known, the label "mother" had come naturally.
He had never known his real mother, but he allowed himself to dream of what she might be like. She would be sweet like bright sunshine and give him warm hugs and wipe away his tears when he got hurt.
She would be everytihing that his adoptive mother was not.
The little boys mother, Regina Mills, the Mayor of Storybrooke was a cold, hard piece of ice.
Henry hated her.
He hated the way her heels clicked on the floor when she was leaving for work. He hated her strong perfume lingering in the hallway in the mornings. He hated her stupid apple tree that she spent more time with than him. He hated the way she said his name as if she cared about him and she would always fake a smile around people in town. Henry hated finding her passed out in her office with empty cider glasses, or when the town sheriff would come over for late night "visits."
But most of all, he hated her eyes.
Dark. Piercing. Full of lies and secrets.
He had learned to stand up to her over the years, but for a long time, her eyes were a source of miserable fear for the little boy.
But way back in the far memories of his mind, Henry remembered that things weren't always this way.
He remembered when he was younger, when he was still under the impression that he was Regina's son, things were somehow different.
He did love her.
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Henry remembered sitting on her bed and watching her get ready for work.
He would watch, mesmerized, as his mother brushed her dark hair and prepared her makeup with little effort but great perfection. Sometimes she would let him pick out the lipstick she was going to wear that day. He always picked out the red one because it reminded him of her apple tree. She would tickle him under his chin, smiling with her freshly brushed teeth, and agreed that she would wear it for him.
He loved when she would give him hugs before leaving for work. She always hugged him like she never wanted to leave him and he loved smelling the sweet scent of her apple perfume that lingered in her brunette hair.
On occasion though, when things were slow in the little town of Storybrooke, she would meet him in his room, just as the sun was coming up, and snuggle beside him under the sheets. "I don't feel like going to work today. How about we have a lazy day together and stay in?" She would whisper in his ear, still half asleep. "Sounds good mom." he would whisper back as he nuzzled closer against her.
Their day would consist of a home made breakfast, reading books, and maybe a game of hide and go seek in the lush green yard behind the house.
One thing Henry was curious about was his mothers apple tree.
Sometimes, when she thought he was asleep, Henry would peek out of the curtains and watch her pick apples, studying each one like it was a precious jewel. A sweet melody would hum from her red lips as she went from limb to limb, placing the best apples in her basket.
Her dark hair swayed with the warm night breeze as the rhythm of her voice drifted in Henry's ears, blending with the lanterns and windchimes making him warm and drowsy and sometimes falling asleep at the window sill.
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One day, Henry decided to go out to the garden when he thought his mother was at a town meeting. He walked up to her apple tree and shifted his eyes from one deliciously red apple to the next. They were like red ruby's. Perfectly carved gems dangling before his eyes. He focused in on one apple and reached out his tiny pale hand to pick it. Before he could wrap his fragile fingers around it, a strong hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him around.
Two dark orbs met his own.
"What do you think you are doing." His mothers voice uttered deeply.
Henry's breath had gotten caught in his own throat, for this was the first time he had heard her voice used in this tone. She sounded angry.
Henry decided wo make up a different excuse than his actual reason.
"I-I J-just thought you would like one for y-your desk at work." Henry stammered.
She crouched down to meet his face with her own, still holding on to his wrist.
"Henry." her voice was deep and serious. " You must never touch these apples. Do you understand me?"
Henry was frightened at how she was suddenly speaking to him but gave a quick nod that he understood.
She lifted herself back up and let go of his arm. They both went back inside, his mother lightened the mood by telling him something funny that had happened at work today. Henry looked at his arm as she walked in the other room.
For at least five minutes, the marks of her fingers remained imprinted on his skin.
Over time, Henry started to noticed that things in Storybrooke were a bit strange. Especially the looks that people would give him everywhere that he went.
He knew that he got extra attention from being the Mayors kid but not like this.
People would go out of their way to do things for him. Sometimes if he and his mom went to the grocery store, people would start to walk down the same aisle as them and turn right around as if they were avoiding some great fear.
He would overhear people say things about his mother. Terrible things.
But not as terrible as what he overheard one afternoon at school. This one word would change Henry forever. Inevitably lead him on a search for himself and his future. One word.
Orphan.
Henry had heard one of his classmates at school talking amongst the other kids. They kept saying that Henry's mom, The Mayor, wasn't his real mom and they were teasing about the obvious difference in appearance.
When he approached them about it they all looked him up and down and walked away.
This bothered Henry all day. He didn't believe them because his mother would never lie to him.
Although, they had never brought up the subject before.
Whenever Henry had asked about his father, his mom always simply said that he didn't have one and didn't need one because he had her. Henry had never pressed the matter further.
Now that Henry thought about it, he didn't even think he had a baby album.
That night, Henry planned to approach his mom about the matter. He didn't know what he was expecting but his stomach twisted just thinking about the possibility that his mom wasn't really his.
He found his mom sleeping soundly on the couch by the lit fireplace. The light from the flames flickered softly against her sleeping form.
Judging by the empty cider glass on the table, it looked like it had been a long day for the mayor.
Henry turned to walk away, deciding against bothering her right now.
"Henry?"
He heard a tired mayor call to him from the couch.
He turned around to see her shifting and making room for him to lay down with her.
She patted the extra space for him and he obliged cautiously.
They both snuggled on the couch as Regina put her arms around her son, sighing and letting herself relax.
"Mom?" Henry spoke.
"Yes dear?" Regina breathed closing her eyes.
"Am I an orphan?"
Regina's eyes opened and she sat up, meeting her eyes with Henry's.
"Where on earth did you hear that?" She said deeply.
"Some kids at school were talking about it."
Regina was dreading the day where she would have to tell him the truth. She always considered herself his true mother because she had adopted him at birth. She loved him more than anything in the world.
Henry stared at his mother is disbelief as silence filled the room. He could see her mulling over the aweful truth in her head.
"You...you lied to me?" Henry stood up, tears welling up in his eyes at the very thought of what was to come next.
"Henry, I was going to tell you, but I was afraid that you wouldn't understand.."
Regina went on and on about how it was in his best interest but Henry wanted to block her out.
"I hate you." A red faced Henry uttered sharply.
He could immediately see the great effect that those three words had as soon as he said them.
He expected his mother to cry, collapse on the couch, beg for his forgiveness. Instead, her eyes darkened and a malicious grin swept across her face.
"Well my dear, there is nothing you can do about it. You are stuck with me. And do you know why? because that sad excuse for a woman didn't want you. I have given you everything, you ungrateful child, and what do I get in return? A spoiled brat that denys the woman who has taken real care of him since day one." Regina started to move in closer making Henry extremely frightened. He had never seen her this way. He almost wished he could take the words back, just to get rid of the expression that overtook his mother.
"I don't care if you hate me Henry. You belong to me, and you are never leaving."
Her final words left Henry unable to take it any more. His anger overcame his rational thinking and he bolted for the front door, forcefully pushing his adoptive mother out of his way.
But before he could reach the door, a strong hand grabbed his upper arm, stopping him hard in his tracks. A sharp pain forced its way to his shoulder from the harsh gravity of the tug.
He looked up at Regina through a stream of hot tears as she dragged him up the stairs and into his room with almost no effort.
She threw the kicking and screaming little boy onto his bed where he grabbed his pillow and hugged it tightly, sobbing loudly into it.
"This changes everything Henry. But in time, you will come to appreciate everything I have done for you."
With that, she slammed the door, locking it from the outside.
Henry could hear her footsteps walk to her room along with a stream of thumps and banging.
She was right though. This did change everything. He would never look at her the same. She had lied to him for all of these years, pretended to be his real mother, and he had believed her.
From then on, Henry started to pick out all of her flaws as if a spell was lifted. He no longer saw her as perfect and enchanting.
She was now a monster to him.
All that she wanted was him to herself. As a pet.
She didn't really love him and he would never love her again.