Henry stared at the artistic rendering of his birth mother that was on the last page of the book.
It certainly was one Emma Swan, sword-wielding, leather-jacket-wearing, fierce and determined Emma Swan.
The Savior.
A deep frown etches wrinkles into Henry's forehead, his mouth contorting. "No way..." he breathes and his hands skitter to the edge of the pages. He has read this book hundreds of times. Perhaps more. Why had he not seen this before?
It had been right in front of him, right under his nose, all this time.
He knows each page so well, knows where every story is located, that he finds the one he is looking for in a matter of seconds.
The Evil Queen.
His mother.
She doesn't look like herself in the drawing. A long, regal dress and her hair in some elaborate up-do, her lips painted a brilliant shade of red. Only her eyes look the same.
And Henry's chest does that weird thing again, when it feels like someone hugged him too tight or like that time when he jumped off of the swing set and landed wrong and got the wind knocked out of him.
Those eyes have looked down on him, soft and earnest, while his mother tucked him into bed, read him books, and sung him to sleep.
But in the book, this very book sitting in his lap, those eyes have given orders and murdered whole villages of innocent people.
Henry's hand closes and his thumb crinkles the corner of the page with how hard his fingers clench.
Evil can't love.
Henry flips back to the last page and his brown eyes flick over the blonde woman in the drawing, her weapon drawn, ready to spring into action and kill a dragon or whatever else it is that knights do in the Enchanted Forest.
The Savior. The Evil Queen.
And all along he had thought that the answer was to defeat her.
Henry closed the book and set it aside. He had to tell them. He had to let them know.
This was big.
This would change everything.
Screw Operation Cobra.
This would save Storybrooke.
He ran down the winding marble staircase, past the elaborate victorian-esque household décor and the baby photos of himself on the walls.
There is no one in the kitchen. There is no one in the office.
Henry stares out the back door at the apple tree, but the yard is empty as well. He swings the door shut and heads for the parlor.
He stands in the doorway, his mouth open around the words he needs to say, and nothing comes out. He whips backwards, stumbling a retreat into the hall.
His mom- No, his moms. They were... kissing. His moms were kissing. Each other. They hadn't even noticed him standing there, his jaw on the floor.
When the shock fades and he gets over the ew factor, Henry's face splits into a wide smile.
He grins and goes back upstairs to his room quietly.
It's not what he thought at all.
The Savior is teaching the Evil Queen how to love again.
No one has to die or be defeated.
The curse will be broken.
"He totally saw us," Emma said, looking over Regina's shoulder at the now empty doorway and hall.
"I know, dear."