"Hey buddy, wanna come with me to feed the dogs at the shelter?" Despite the fact that his wife and daughter were still missing, David was having one of the best days he'd had in twenty-eight long years. The people of Storybrooke had risen up admirably after his stirring speech at the city limits, throwing themselves into the task of rebuilding the town. Their town, no matter that Regina had cursed them all here in the first place. They would make work, so long as they were all together. And he would get his family back.
At the moment, however, he had hungry puppies and a brand-new grandson to take care of.
"Cool Grandpa!" Henry had been calling him that every other sentence, as if he still couldn't quite believe it was real. David grinned as they both piled into his truck, leaning over to make sure Henry's seat belt was secure.
"Mom never lets me ride in the front." The boy was practically vibrating off the seat with joy.
David winked at him. "It'll be our little secret, okay?"
Soon enough they were at the animal shelter and David let Henry help him unload bags of dog food from the bed of the truck. If the boy struggled a little bit with some of the heavier sacks David pretended not to notice. There was no need to embarrass the boy unnecessarily by taking the load away from him. He'd certainly been overprotected for far too long by his adoptive mother.
"Just put about this much in the bowls, okay? And don't go into the cages for the big dogs; I'll take care of that. Just the puppies."
"But-"
"I'm sorry Henry, it's just not safe. Feeding the puppies is more important, anyway. They can't take care of themselves yet so they're relying on us, right? I'm trusting you to make sure they're okay."
Henry nodded determinedly. "I can do it."
David smiled, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. He was adjusting amazingly well considering he had almost died a few days ago. "I'm gonna go into the office for a second to check things out."
David still didn't even know what happened. There was a sharp yip and a high, boyish yell and then he didn't really remember anything until he was double-parking the truck at the hospital.
"Is he okay?" Dr. Whale didn't look too concerned, but then again, it was hard to tell with him.
"Henry'll be fine. It looks like one of the puppies got a little too excited and nipped his hand. We've bandaged him up but I still want to give him a rabies shot, just to be on the safe side."
"Is that necessary? We test all the dogs when they come into the shelter-"
Whale sighed. "Probably not, no, but I'm not going to be the one to explain to his mothers that we took any chance with his life, no matter how remote."
Oh. David sighed. He had a point.
"You can go visit him, if you want. I'll get the vaccine ready."
Mutely David made his way to the small examination room. He was suddenly, uncomfortably reminded of how close Henry had come to losing his life in this very hospital and the lengths Emma – his daughter – and Regina had gone to to save their son's life.
"David?" Henry looked young and scared on the bed. His face was blotched and snotty, and the smudged remnants of tears still rimmed his wide brown eyes. "Could I – Can you call my mom?"
Probably not, David thought, and then, fuck it. It wasn't like Henry was hooked up to any of the machines in the room anyway.
"Regina?"
He heard her voice high and frantic over the line. Of course she would assume the worst. He never would have called if there wasn't a problem.
"Henry's fine. Or he will be. There was a little incident with a puppy at the shelter and he needs to get a shot just in case." David paused, taking a breath. "He wanted to talk to you."
He didn't wait for her response and didn't expect one either, simply handing the phone to his grandson.
"Mom?"
David sat down heavily in a very uncomfortable plastic chair, listening to the one sided conversation.
"I'm okay mom, really."
"It was my fault. I should have waited for Mr. Nolan."
Henry pursed his lips and frowned, dark eyes – so much like Regina's own, funny how David had never really thought about how much he looked like her – narrowing in displeasure.
"I'm not a kid anymore, I don't need that -"
"I was four!"
"Aw, c'mon Mom, please don't sing...I'm fine. I'm hanging up now."
A moment, where Henry closed his eyes and David didn't need to hear it to know that Regina had just said 'I love you.'
"Phones down boys. This is still a semblance of a hospital, after all."
Dr. Whale had always had impeccable timing.
