Summary: Henry left Storybrooke and his family at fifteen. He didn't intend to be gone for so long, but it's been ten years. Going to Storybrooke was not an option. If they wanted to see him, they would have to come to him. But something keeping them from leaving, and only Henry can save them from a life without knowing each other. He is the only one that can save them.

Posting to see if anyone is interesting. If not, I'll understand and probably delete it.

This story is set somewhere after the show ends, but with my own twist. Henry, at fifteen, left his family, and Storybrooke, to live a normal life. He needed real friends that weren't fairy tales, even if he would have much rather preferred to live in the Enchanted Forest. Emma and Regina thought that he was only going through a phase, and let him leave. But now it's been over ten years, and Henry is pissed because his family hasn't even come to get him.

This idea literally came to me out of nowhere, within about five minutes of sitting in Study Hall with nothing to do, and as I started writing it down it just became awesome. Not many people have Henry stories, and even mine is OOC. Heads up, I'm actually calculating the time lapse's, so everyone will know. The beginning- no, scratch that- the whole story is going to be odd. Henry doesn't know how to save his family, mostly because I don't know how to write it! I will over time, though, promise.

Before we start, I'd like to point out that this has Captain Swan and Outlaw Queen, just to let everyone know. Swan Queen is alright, but the show already proved that Regina's True Love is Robin, so she's with him. The first chapter is showing the readers how Henry has changed, and how he thinks now. But don't worry, he won't be OOC for long.

Boston, Massachusetts. August, 13th, 2026.

Henry Mills had once been a believer. When he was ten, he was a miserable kid with an evil adoptive mother. It had taken him years to find his biological mother, and at ten, he finally did it. He found her and brought her to Storybrooke to save the people there. Somehow, the kid knew that only the Savior could save them from a horrible and clueless immortality. So many things had happened since then, and so many had changed. Evil queens turned good, suspicious bail bonds persons became open minded, beasts and pirates became heroes, the scared grew confident and safe, and the worrisome were calmed.

They had gone on so many quests, but after their lives had settled down, nothing happened. They stayed in Sotrybrooke, because it had somehow become their home.

That was when Henry grew up, and yes, he had believed, but he didn't want to. Not anymore. He had been a kid. Kids weren't supposed to get kidnapped, almost killed, and see those things, lose the people he loved. His childhood had had adventure, but he realized that he wanted to know what a simple life was.

His mother, Emma, had always wanted that for him. She had always wanted him to return to New York after that missing year, where he had believed that fairy tales hadn't existed. She was right; it had been his best year. People always wanted what they couldn't have.

Though Henry knew he couldn't have it, he still strived for it. He left that life behind, and built a new one. Of course, his family had wanted to come with him, but he had told them that he just needed some space. A week, he had told them.

Ten years later, Henry still believed. He just wished he didn't, because then life would be so normal. No, it would be easy. Easy was never a possible for people like him, for Storybrookers.

His new life wasn't as great as he thought it would be. By now, he had hoped that he would be living in a house, paying off all the mortgages, not worrying about any debts or bills. Yeah right. Instead, he lived in a shitty apartment with a roommate- Steve- that was rarely home, so he pretty much lived alone. As to be expected, Steve still had all his crap everywhere. Henry assumed that the two of them were never home at the same time. Steve did work nights, and Henry days.

The fridge was the place where they told each other where they were. They texted, too, but since phones were frowned upon at work, it rarely happened. Henry got the occasional drink with Steve at the bar down the street, and when they were both home at the same time Steve was an excellent cook. Other than that, Henry never knew where the guy went unless he wrote it on the fridge. The notes mostly consisted of:

Mills

My friend from New York, the hot redhead? She's in Boston for the night. I'm staying the night, so you have the place to yourself.

Why don't you call up that chick from work? Stacy?

She's into you, man. Take a break for once. Enjoy life.

Trenton

But Stacy had a boyfriend now. It's not like Henry pursued that type of relationship anyway. He felt like, if got attached, and his family finally contacted him, that he wouldn't go to them, because he would have family here. That he would be torn.

Thinking of his family always turned Henry down bad roads. He needed a drink.

It was at the bar that Henry saw him.

Henry worked as a bookkeeper down at the local library. The pay was good there, but not enough for him. So he made extra cash at the bar, playing others at pool. Over time, he had become popular, and people showed up just to see if they could catch him playing, or even try to play him. Others made bets, and at times, so did Henry. The cash was good, and enough for him to go out every night instead of cooking.

It was only on the weekends that people showed up to play him, but on Thursdays, the place wasn't as crowded. Sometimes, it was even dead.

Henry sat at the bar, waiting for anything interesting to happen. He thought about playing pool, but no one around seemed to be into it. The bartender was nonchalantly wiping down tables, the TV was on in the corner, showing some rerun of a soap show. An elderly man sat at the other end of the bar was eating some chicken wings. Nothing was really happening.

Henry though that maybe luck would turn in his favor if he found the dice alley, where low lives from across the city gathered to make money. Henry chuckled, feeling his own die in his pocket. He had been down there a few times, and had even become well-known there. He didn't look menacing, but over the years, he had been in enough fights to learn to take care of himself. His jacket even had a cut in it from a knife fight a few years ago, one that almost cost him his knife. Luckily, there had been others that stood up for him.

The former Storybrooker could make easy money down at dice alley, especially since he had his own set weighted. Killian had taught him it years ago, despite Henry telling him that it was cheating. Now, it had saved him from poverty a few times.

But the name Killian once again spoiled his mood. What parents didn't call their son, not even to check up on him? The first year, he had at least assumed that they would have called a month later, or even for the holidays, but no. Weeks turned into months, months turned into a years, and years turned into a decade. His family had abandoned him just as much as he had them. If they wanted to see him, they would have to come to him.

Henry ordered a drink from the bartender. He had told himself that he didn't need them, not when he lived like so many other Americans. If they could do it, so could he. He didn't need a family, and he didn't need magic.

The bartender silently set a glass down in front of him, then returned to his work. The TV continued to buzz in the background, and as he lifted the glass, the ice clinked inside, stirring his bourbon. There wasn't really anymore noise in the bar but the occasional sigh or cough.

A ringing of bells sounded at the door, alerting the bartender of another customer.

Henry didn't bother to look. In a city this big, it wasn't as likely that he would know who it was. The man- as Henry could tell by the voice- spoke to the bartender, who had silently asked him if he needed anything. "I'll take whatever kind of soda you have."

The bartender grumbled as he nodded and moved behind the bar. Henry scoffed in amusement. This person was either underage or drove here. Who doesn't buy a drink at a bar? Or he was a recovering alcoholic. Either way, he found it funny.

However, he didn't find it funny when the newcomer came up to the bar and sat two seats down from him. Henry instinctively shifted to the edge of his seat. Out of all the stools at the bar, the man had to sit pretty much right next to him.

Henry took a swig of his drink and took a glance at the newcomer out of the corner of his eye. A black pea coat, Henry saw. Who wore pea coats anymore?

The bartender set the brown soda down in front of the newcomer, but he didn't immediately take it. He thanked the man, and Henry could see that the newcomer kept glancing towards him.

Henry once again shifted, but this time to position his feet on the bar stool. If he needed to get off it for any reason, he was ready. What he wasn't ready for was the newcomer to know his name.

"Henry Mills."

He said it like he knew him, like the two had been old friends and he was….

Henry looked up, the words Do I know you? about to roll off his tongue before his gaze landed on the man's face. He looked exactly the same as he had ten years ago. He didn't even know if he looked like he aged. The same curled brown hair, stubbled chin; he even had the same weird scarf around his neck, the loose strands tucked into his coat. Henry thought he'd ever see this man again, but here he was. Jefferson: the Mad Hatter.

Henry got over his surprise quickly. "What the hell are you doing here? You finally get to see your daughter again, and you're here?" He turned with an appalled laugh and swallowed the rest of his drink.

The man glanced at Henry's now empty glass. "You've really let yourself go, kid. I never pictured you as a drinker."

Henry glared. "I'm not a kid anymore. And really, I'm not the one that stalked his own daughter for-"

An unamused laugh escaped the Hatter's lips. "You don't get to talk about my daughter, not when you up and left us for ten years." He glared back, and that popped a bubble of anger inside the young man. "What's it to you?"

Jefferson glanced around, to see who was listening, when he lowered his voice. It was laced with anger and betrayal. "You don't even know what happened. When you left, things got bad. Another curse was cast, and everyone lost their memories. Even the Evil Queen and Rumplestiltskin. All expect me. Again." His glare deepened, and he knew that Henry was now listening.

"It gets worse. He has my daughter. It's been teen years. I thought you would have come back, but ten years! Last time I at least got to see my daughter, but now I have no idea if she's okay. Trust me, I've tried everything. The Sheriff even threw me in jail a few times when I tried to convince her that he was the Savior and needed to save me daughter. I am only "mad" after all."

Henry stared blankly at the man. A curse had been laid upon Storybrooke again? Was that why they hadn't contacted him? How could it have happened? "Holy shit."

"Holy shit is right," Jefferson said as he stood. In a swift motion he pulled out his wallet and set a few bills down next to his untouched drink. His voice still remained angry as it returned to normal vocal volume. "You're coming back to Storybrooke because you're the only one that can save them. My daughter's life rests in your hand, Truest Believer."

Anyone interested?