Do you remember when I used to bring you here? We'd feed the seagulls. You were always so afraid of them. And I wondered, "How did I raise such a scared little boy?"

Do you remember the second grade when you were afraid of the monsters under your bed, or the dark… or that old creaking oak tree? Who made you face your fears? Who didn't tolerate your crying and toughened you up?

Henry trailed after his mother, as fast as his chubby six-year-old legs would allow. Regina was a fast walker and was not accustomed to slowing down for anyone else's benefit so Henry had learnt he must keep up early in life. The cell phone attached to her ear and the ongoing fight with Sydney about the need for new seating in the council room did nothing to remind Regina of the boy who was following her or even where they were going.

"I've had a backache all week. I am sure it is because of those chairs…Well, fine then, Sydney, don't replace all the councilmen's chair. Just replace mine."

The boy trailed further behind the woman in the power suit. His breaths became more and more, jagged as he attempted to catch up. His small chest heaving up and down desperate to find a steady rhythm and his sight blurring with tears of exertion, making the boy finally stop. He slouched his hands to knees and took in some deep breaths.

They were on the outs of Storybrooke, close enough to see the water as it lapped the rocky shore. Today he and his mother were feeding the ducks. Archie, Henry's therapist, and bestestfriend, had suggested it. He said it would be fun for Henry to spend time with his mom and maybe it could give Henry the opportunity to talk to her. Henry was skeptical of any idea that put 'fun' and his mom in the same sentence but he trusted Archie so he thought he'd give it a shot (and it's not like he really had a choice to say no anyway).

Henry sat on the curb for a moment, watching his mother's figure grow smaller and smaller against the horizon. He wondered how long it would take her to realize he was no longer following her. He counted to sixty 5 times, but when he didn't see Regina turn around, he got up and kept walking.

When he arrived at the beach Regina was still on her phone call, but when she saw him her eyes widened with remembrance and she told Sydney she had to go. She reached into her purse and pulled out half of a wholemeal baguette (it was the only bread they had in the house as Regina was strict about grain and fiber intake).

"Here, Sweetie. Go feed the ducks." She said, in that voice she used when she was trying to be nice.

Henry took the loaf from her hand and nodded his head. He scanned the sea line for ducks but saw nothing. He tugged on his mother's suit coat.

"Mom, there are no ducks here."

Regina looked at the sea frowning. Under her breath she muttered to herself about how stupid Archie was to send her to an ocean to look for ducks. She sometimes wondered if he was purposely trying to sabotage her relationship with her son, before reminding herself that he did not have the balls to do something so devious.

The once queens eyes landed to a formation of rocks, which several birds circled.

"Over there, Henry. Go feed those birds." She said pointing towards them.

Henry looked at her for a second and she smiled to encourage him. Nodding his head he took a few more steps towards the birds, before one let out a loud squawk. Henry jumped at the sounds and then remained frozen in place. Regina resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Go on." She said.

Her son approached the animals once more, this time much more slowly. He held out the loaf of bread and several of the birds hopped over to see the boy. Filled with renewed bravery the six-year-old walked closer to the birds, giggling with relief. He did not look where he was walking. He tripped on one of the beaches sandy hills just at the seagulls approached him for the bread. One the ground it looked like he was now surrounded by the foul bird, each of them starring at him with beady eyes and squawking louder and louder. He held on to the bread tighter as if it could protect him but instead received more than a few harsh peeking's from the birds.

Terrified and well into tears the boy picked himself up and ran back to his mother.

Regina looked over the boy with confusion. His hair was sticking up the fresh clothes she had just picked out were now covered in dirty and sand.

"Henry, what happened?"

The little boy's lip trembled. "The bird..They-they're..they scared me."

"Oh Henry, don't be ridiculous. They're just birds and you're a boy. How can you possibly be afraid of them?" She asked him, her frown etched into her face. She worried about him, she really did. Surely it was not normal to be so scared of little, winged pests. She was a strong, confident, queen who had managed to take down dragon women and even the Dark One himself. How could it be possible that she had raised a child so weak? So pathetic.

She heard her son sniffle again, and brushed her hair away from her face. Kneeling down, she briskly brushed the dirt off of her son before standing up again. Henry keeps his head down.

"Well, you've already dropped the last of the bread. I am sure the birds have eaten by now. Let's go home and you can change out of those dirty clothes." She points her head in the direction of him.

Henry lifts his head, still sniffing his nose but glad to have his freedom from the obstruction of his shaggy reaches a hand out for Regina's but puts it down again when he sees that her arms remain crossed against her chest.

In silence the two walk home.

Henry sat outside Dr. Hoppers office kicking his feet against each other. He still wasn't tall enough to reach the ground from his seated position, but often he would slouch in the chair and imagine what it would be like when he was taller.

From inside of the office he could hear his mother and Archie talking. Well, Archie was talking. His mother was yelling.

"Something must be wrong with him. He is scared of everything. Seagulls, the dark, monsters under the bed even the oak tree on our nature strip. It just can't be normal." She said and Henry felt his inside sink.

"Madam Mayor, I assure you, at Henry's age childhoods fears like the ones you mentioned are completely normal. He will outgrow them." Archie's voice was deeper and far more soothing on Henry's ears.

"When? I don't want to let these things go and have Henry grow into some kind of…some kind of coward or sissy. I have high hopes for him in this world and these silly little fears don't make a strong man."

Henry fiddled with his fingers and tried to block out what his mom was saying in the other room. His eyes tinged with tears, which he forcefully blinked away. He knew that his mom didn't like it when he got scared but he couldn't help it and it wasn't like it happened all of the time – it was only when something scary happened.

"If you can't do anything to help him, maybe I should find someone who can." Regina threatened. Her voice was even clearer now, telling Henry she was close to the door.

He sat up straighter and wiped the lingering tears out of his eyes, readying himself to see her.

She didn't stop to look at him. She walked to the buildings front door with just a loud command for him to follow her.

Regina decided she had had enough. The night she tucked Henry in, pulling the covers tightly around him and turned the lights off, including that damn swan-themed nightlight the boy kept on his bedside table. She stood at the door for a moment, looking at her son, evaluating him, before walking towards her own room.

When she was halfway down the hall to her she heared a small voice call out to her.

"Mom!"

She sighed and turned back to her son's room.

"What is it, Henry?"

"Mom. Can I please leave the light on."

"No, Henry. You get the best sleep in the dark. Everyone does. And I don't want you tired for school."

"But mom, I need the light on. I need it to keep away the monsters."

"What Monsters?"

"The one's that live under the bed and in the closet."

Regina walked closer to the bed. Her head pounding with a headache brought on by the tall tales her child was spewing.

"Henry, this nonsense must stop. It isn't cute anymore. There are no monsters living under your bed. Do you understand that?"

Henry nodded his head and thinking the matter was finally settled Regina stood up and made to exit the room.

"Mom, just the nightlight? Please, mom?"

Fuming, Regina turned back around to her son. She pulled back the covers he was wrapped in and pulled him out the bed.

"We end this now. Where are these monsters supposed to be?"

"Under the bed." The boy mumbled out, frightened by how quick his mother had moved.

"You're going to face this fear and you going to do it now. Go under the bed."

Henry looked under the bed and then back at his mother. He shook his head, tears once again rising to his eyes.

"I don't want to."

Regina ignored the look of fear in the boy, knowing that such a worry was silly and preposterous. There were no monsters in this world, at least none that she hadn't brought here.

"You have to Henry. This is the only way you won't be afraid anymore."

When Henry just stood there in the dark looking up at Regina, she spoke again, "Go."

Trembling, the boy nealt down and crawled up the small space between his bed frame and the floor. It was dark under there, even darker than it was in the already dark bedroom. He could make out a black mass and flinched thinking it to be a monster. Taking a deep breath he summoned his courage and reached his hand out to touch it. His chest fell in relief when he felt that it was only an old sweater that had fallen under the bed.

"Well, Henry, are there any monsters down there?" His mother called.

"No."

"You may come out now." The boy climbed out from under the bed and sat on top of it instead. "See how silly such ideas are Henry? Now that you've faced your fear don't you feel better?"

Henry thought about her question for a while. He guessed he felt a little bit better. He wasn't afraid of the monsters under the bed anymore, but he felt kind of stupid and little embarrassed and very tired now. Pushing away his conflicting emotions he looked up and nodded at his mom.

Regina smiled in return and left the room, saying good night. Curled up in his blankets and on the very edge of sleep, Henry closed his eyes to visions of knights and heroes. Men and women who were never afraid of anything and never felt stupid. He smiled at the idea. One day he wanted to be just like them.