"Com'on buddy, let's go home."
Henry increased his pace, a small burst of energy allowing him to collide right into his father's side, where he was greeted with a small "oof" and a welcome embrace. The bright summer sun shone up in the sky, its warmth contrasting with the air, crisp and cool. A deep breath and his lungs were filled with the salty smell of the sea and he could feel the warm comfort of his father's hand on his back. This was life, this was the perfect combination of everything he had ever wanted, everything he could ever ask for.
Chatting a mile a minute about all the things they could do together, Henry looked up at the brilliant blue sky up above them, filled with the most beautiful stars he had ever seen. He could see Orion and Ursa Major and Libra from where he stood. All the constellations his dad was going to show him were twinkling in the midday sky above.
Looking up at the man he so adored, Henry asked, "When are you going to teach me to read the stars Dad?"
Neal looked down at his son with an ever present smirk on his face, "I could, but I thought Killian taught you that already?"
"He did, but it would have been better with you… he wouldn't have needed to anyway if you hadn't…" Something in the back of Henry's mind was trying to push forward, a connection he didn't want to make taunting him from the furthest reaches of his mind.
Stopping, Neal pointed up into the heavens, celestial bodies that shouldn't have made any sense in the sky instantly deciphering themselves beyond his father's reach. "See that one up there kid? That's your mom. That's Cygnus, the swan."
"Are you up there too dad? Which one are you?"
"Naw kid, I'm not up there, but I'll always be in here," he said as he placed his hand on Henry's chest, right over his heart. His dad wouldn't be here again, in this moment with him, but Henry shouldn't know that. He shouldn't know the future.
It was the feeling that remained as he watched his father walk ahead of him, a strange awareness that tried to settle itself into both his mind and his heart, like this was a moment outside of time, a moment meant to be grasped and held on to with all that his young heart could manage. As if this thing, once lost, would be gone forever. But how could you know something like that? That one moment, the feeling of the here and now only made significant by every moment that came before it, and every moment to come. His dad was here now, but he wasn't before, and would never be again.
Trying to avoid thinking about it the best he could Henry returned to prattling on about all the adventures they could have and all the things his dad could teach him. The closer they got to Granny's the more aware he became that something felt off, wrong even. It was almost like an after image trailed his father, one that evoked a feeling deep inside him that would vanish before he could remember, as if he had seen something that was now gone, but deep in his soul he felt an emptiness. It was like his dad was with him, walking with him, but when he looked up the after image would flicker, sometimes as a whole, sometimes nothing at all.
His mind tried to find ways to articulate the things it was seeing, the things it was feeling, but everything around him felt both so right and so wrong all at once. Had opening the door to Mr. Gold's shop always lead out to the beach? Had he always felt the sand beneath his feet while walking down Main Street? Had the sun always blinded him as he looked up at the stars?
Neal was a length in front of him when the pieces started to click. The memories rolled through his head showing scene after scene changing before his eyes. At the Cannery with Zelena, his dad hadn't been there. At the hospital, he hadn't been there either. At the diner when his grandparents had named his baby uncle Neal, again he was missing. All the places and things where his father should have slotted in perfectly had a missing piece where he should have been, where it made perfect sense for him to be, but instead there was an emptiness he couldn't describe.
Up ahead Neal was waiting for him, but Henry could only stop and stare as he tried to will his memories into submission, to put his dad back into his life where he belonged. His words were practically a whisper, tears already starting to sting the corners of his eyes. "You weren't there… You're not there anymore…"
There was a sad, knowing smile on Neal's face as he closed the gap between them and pulled his son into a ferocious hug. "I know buddy. I know."
Henry returned the embrace, clinging to him for dear life. "You're supposed to be here. We're supposed to have adventures. You're supposed to be my dad…"
His father released his grip, crouched down and looked him in the eye. "Hey now. I'll always be your dad, no matter what. Got that?"
Henry was starting to blubber, the tears streaming down his cheeks now beyond his control. "We never really got a chance to know each other…" All those possibilities, all those promises left unfulfilled. It wasn't fair.
The warm, strong feeling of a hand gripping his shoulder pulled him into another bear hug. "I know buddy. Talk to your mom. Talk to Emma. It won't be the same, but it will help."
Face buried in his shirt, his words were muffled slightly by the soft cloth. "I don't want you to be dead." The words themselves added a heavy finality to it. Dead was real. Dead meant goodbye.
He could feel his father stroking his hair with care, "I know… but just remember that I love you, and no matter how much time we had together, big or small, I will always love you."
Henry could feel the dream starting to fade, because really, all this had ever been was just a dream. He looked up to stare at Neal, trying everything in his power to stay in the moment, to not let it all fade, to go back to that point where it all felt real. "I love you dad."
"I love you too Henry."
His senses began returning to the land of the living, the last of the dream slowly fading away to reveal the tangible objects surrounding him. His father's chest against his cheek was just his pillow. The strong arms around him simply the heavy quilts at Granny's. The blissful afternoon out with his dad nothing but a dream. The only real thing left from the experience were the warm tears streaming down his face, his usual teenage shame of crying ignored over the gaping hole in his heart. Feeling the memory of the dream starting to disappear Henry willed himself to remember anything and everything he could. He had enough false memories in his head, what would be a few more? After all, he had so few memories of his father in the first place, at this point having fake memories were better than having none at all.
He tried to muffle his sobs into his pillow, the weight of the dream finally settling on his young shoulders. Moments ago his dad had been with him and it had felt so real, so true. But that, like so many other things in his life was just a second of happiness that was not meant for him. A wonderful feeling of normality that was so unusual in his life, one he was not meant to keep.
Burying his face deeper into the bedding Henry tried to will his heart to stop pounding, his eyes to stop stinging. He hoped beyond reason that if he were to close his eyes and fall asleep once more that his father would be waiting for him, but sleep would not come and the pain of loss was slow to pass. He would even brave another burning room for just one more moment… if only…
Something pressed down on his back, the circular motions it created bringing a sense of comfort and connection that helped to quell the sadness in his heart ever so slightly.
"Shhhhhhh…" A voice soothed. His mother's voice. "It's okay Henry. It's okay. It was just a bad dream. It isn't real."
Shaking his head slightly, he buried his face further into the pillow to hide his tears. That's not what is was at all. She didn't understand, but the only response he could voice was, "No."
"Huh?" she questioned.
"Not bad," he tried to explain. "It wasn't bad. It was dad, and we were together and everything was perfect, but now he's gone and I don't want it to be a dream." He'd had dreams before and things that had felt like dreams but turned out to be real. Why couldn't this be one of the latter? Why did it have all be an illusion?
"I want to go back. I want to stay there because he was there."
The circles on his back continued, briefly stalling when he revealed the subject of his dream. His mom was getting better about talking to him about his dad, but during the day he could still see a lingering pain in her eyes at his name. Back before they'd gone to New York he had hoped so much that they could have been a real family one day, but then he and Emma went away and he had forgotten everything and everyone who had been important to him. Everyone except Emma. And things were good, but then his seemingly normal life had turned upside down and then next thing he knew he was was standing in front of the grave of Neal Cassidy, a stranger who had helped to bring him life. But now he remembered and he missed his dad for all the moments they would never have and all the times he hadn't remembered him at all.
His mother's hand on his back stopped, instead moving up to his head to stroke his hair. It was silly and childish, and he would never admit it to her, but it made him feel safe and loved and it helped.
His mother's ministrations were beginning have their desired effect as his eyelids once again felt heavy. "Do you think dad is really watching us from somewhere?" he asked, voice groggy as he stood on the doorstep of sleep.
His body shifted slightly outside of his control and he found himself partially in his mother's lap, her awkward half body hug trying to bring him some sort of comfort as she stroked his hair with her free hand. "I don't know Henry, but if anyone can find a way, it would be be your dad."
"It hurts so much sometimes…."
His words hung in the air for a moment before his mother replied. "I get it kid. I really do. I've had dreams about your father on and off your whole life, but now they hurt that extra little bit more where I never thought they could. He'll always be with us, but it never stops stinging a little because he's not here and there's so many 'what if's'. But you'll get through it. We'll get through it. I promise."
"But I don't want to forget…. he was in my dream and he said things and and we did things, but now I don't remember all of them. I just remember feeling…" he paused as he tried to hold on to the scraps of memory that had seemed so clear not long ago.
"I just don't want to forget…", his sleep addled mind continued. "He deserves to be remembered… I want to remember him…" His voice faded as the gentle caress of his mother's hand lulled him back to sleep, and hopefully back into the the waiting arms of his father in the one place they could still be together.
He could barely feel his mother's lips on his forehead, or hear the words she spoke as sleep claimed him once more. "I'll never forget him Henry. Never. And if anything, I'll remember him for the both of us."
An - Back in June I awoke from a dream very similar to this one. Through my tears I opened my tablet and began the framework for what would become this fic. It was just dialogue for the longest time and the further I got from the actual dream the harder it became to write this, to get those feelings and sensations of lucid dreaming down on paper (as I'm not a person who remembers their dreams often). So I sat on this for months, not knowing how to describe the things I had forgotten. Hopefully I've done a sufficient job. Sorry for all the sad…
All the love in the world to DSB for being my editor, brainstormer, and occasional wall to smash my head against when my fics drive me to insanity. Thanks for putting up with all my sad. 3