Chapter I: Maybe
It was winter in Storybrooke and the town hadn't been this icy since Elsa and the Snow Queen. Henry sat by his grandparents' fireplace, thumbing through the worn story book. He had memorized most of its contents but still loved immersing himself within the adventures that took place in the Enchanted Forest.
He loved to pretend that he'd been a squire, maybe, of his mother's, who was then the Evil Queen. As he watched her suffer through every tragedy between the pages, he'd only wish that he was already there. To comfort her and calm her, to tell her that her happy ending was coming. That if she would just stop hurting everyone, her day would come. He knew that that was not fate, and her path was set in ink. But it was still okay to imagine. He just wanted to be her hero.
"Hey kid, see anything new in there?" his other mom, Emma, picked at him lovingly from her place on the sofa.
She was curled up, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a cup of hot tea in her hands. She had papers strewn about, as she was researching a new mystery that had struck the town and its people. The dwarves had ranted that someone or something had been snooping around the mines, stealing tools, and even mining coal themselves. Whoever it was left sooty footprints that led into the town and around the properties of the townspeople's houses. Some people reported missing jewelry, food, and firewood. Which was pretty precious in this time of winter. They couldn't be a known resident there, because the folks of Storybrooke just don't do that to each other. Plus, they made the dire mistake of barging into Regina's home. Broke a window and everthing. Emma pretended to be annoyed, but she was actually a bit worried. Most of the new folks who stumbled into Storybrooke made a bigger entrance. This was just subtle enough to be almost creepy. But it wasn't that big of a problem compared to what had happened, so this wasn't too urgent of a thing.
"Don't you wanna play Xbox or something, or I don't know, be angsty and slam doors and tell me you hate me?" She reached out to ruffle his dark brown hair. He was growing. At an alarming rate. Turning into an awkward lanky teenager.
Henry laughed and looked up lovingly towards his mother, "Eh, there's already enough drama and monsters popping up around here for me to add to the mix. I'd rather be some kind of help."
"Well you're always a big help, kiddo," Emma smiled.
"I just…I just wish I could do more. Be a hero, you know?"
Emma leaned down and took her son's face in her hands that had been warmed by the hot mug, "But you are, Henry. Where would I be without you? Lost or…or dead. Remember that."
He cracked a slight grin and shook away from her touch.
"Okay. I don't really feel like I am. But okay." Henry reconsidered spending his time there on the floor with that old book that was rarely ever out of his sight. Maybe it'd be okay to leave it alone for a while. Maybe it'd be okay not to open it, think about it. Maybe he would shuffle upstairs to his room, and slam the door accidentally. Maybe he'd just let go for a bit.
So he did.