"Uh… Mr Gold?"

It was the boy again. Hadn't he managed to scare him off already? He couldn't be alone with the boy, he couldn't be. But Emma and Bae were above deck, piloting this vessel, which hummed with its own magic, while his remained quiet. Just him and the boy. His undoing. He could do it now and no one would stop him. He could… he could.

The boy was speaking again, "I thought you might like this." It was the book. He waved his hand dismissively, he knew all the stories. For crying out loud, he was in most of them.

What was the boy doing now? He was flicking through the pages, "There's one story I think you don't know…Here it is." He turned the book towards me, displaying the writing… and the picture.

Wordlessly, he took the book from the boy and raised trembling fingers to the image. His hand halted mere millimetres from the page. He was still a coward. He couldn't touch, should never be allowed to touch, but he could stare. Slowly, he took in every detail, drinking in every brush stroke with an unquenchable thirst. He realised he could lay there forever, quite happy, just staring at that illustration.

But there were words. So he read. He read of her bravery, her quick wit and her ability to see good in all. He hated and loved her new friends. The hate was easy, he was used to it. It was jealous and angry and dark. The love hurt.

Then he read her words, her oath and he broke. She was going to come back. He could have had a second chance in that world. A chance to apologise and explain and… forbid her from ever kissing him again. No, it wouldn't have worked. It never could.

But she said she would never stop fighting for him. For him. She saw something good in him. She said so. He believed her. He could change. He could be the man she deserved. She said so.

He looked over at the boy, standing nervously before him. Prophecies were difficult things. Maybe he would lead him to his death, maybe to his redemption. One thing was for sure. Killing him would drive away them both, Bae and Belle.

This boy was his blood. "Thank you, Henry."

This boy was remarkable. "You were right, I didn't know this one."

This boy was his grandson. "You can call me Grandpa, if you like."