Henry awoke in the middle of a forest.

He was lying on his back, some hard rock pressed into his spine. Lights flashed behind his eyelids, his head spinning as he stared up at the canopy of trees stretching into the sky. The strong sense of confusion and the necessity to vomit lingered at the back of his throat, and eventually he lurched forward to spill the remains of his lunch onto the ground next to him.

His breathing irregular, his heart beating so fast his chest ached, his brain spinning and his surroundings unfamiliar. His body was in bad shape, battered and bruised as though he'd been flung onto the ground. He barely remembered anything of how he ended up like this - Nothing apart from chatting to Killian and his mum, the townspeople gathering to find out what was causing the rumbling, him not being able to see above the towering people, and eventually everything just disappearing.

Everyone, and everything, was gone. He knew that much.

When he'd first awoken, he'd assumed that everything around him was completely foreign. Nothing was instantly familiar, no sense of home reaching for him. But, now that he'd taken a moment to gaze around him, he realised that he had been here before. It was the very same forest that surrounded his home, the shrubbery and tree type identical to that of the woods he'd played in when he was younger.

He attempted to stand, stumbling a little as he moved. The world tilted around him. It took several tries to get on his two feet, resting against a tree as the urge to vomit overcame him again. It felt as if his internal organs were trying to escape through his mouth, his stomach agonisingly sore. He swallowed several times, and the hollow feeling in his throat faded away, leaving him breathless and gasping.

It felt like forever before he could stand on his own, swaying gently, taking uneasy steps. But his brain wasn't exactly focused on walking at that very moment. The fact was, he was alone in the middle of a forest. His home had basically disappeared, and where was a simple teenager like him expected to go?

He, fortunately, had quite some experience with running off, and knew exactly where to head. A big city had lots of resources, and not many people took a second glance at a fourteen-year-old when they were just another head in the crowd, another cog in the machine. And where was a bigger city than New York? He had an entire year of experience there, after all.

He trudged along for what had to be a good mile before a glinting made him turn his head. Not far off was a slate of metal, fallen flat. He walked over to it cautiously, lifting it up and rolling it over.

" Welcome to…. " He read to himself, staring at the sign. The word below it was ripped off, as if something tore it off. But it was undeniable.

This was the Storybrooke sign.


There was only one thing for Henry to do now. As he walked his way along the road, head bowed, he realised the best way to reach New York. He needed to get to a place where he could catch a bus or a train. The nearest place was Portland, but even that was a fair ways away.

He didn't have anything in the pockets of his jacket – Henry wished he'd at least had a small amount of money, or coincidentally had his phone on him. But his luck wasn't that great, as his rumbling stomach kept taunting him. He'd thrown up all of the sustenance that could fuel him, and his body was begging for energy.

The berries that grew on the shrubbery lining the road looked tempting, but he wasn't exactly keen on trying them. He'd heard tales from Killian, of men who'd gone insane on deserted islands. Not from hunger, or loneliness, but of the berries they had consumed out of desperation. Whilst they might be Enchanted Forest berries, he knew there must be some here. He wasn't keen on proving that theory - He'd fallen into an enchanted sleep once already.

His hand was closing in on a bunch of berries despite his mournful thoughts, when a rumbling made him halt. Henry's head whipped around. A clunky old machine was churning its way towards him, slowing to a stop near the boy.

The window rolled down, and Henry gave an audible gasp.

There, sitting in the driver's seat, was Robin of Locksley.


Henry stared at Robin, and Robin stared at him.

A good minute passed before the man opened his mouth. " I'm sorry, but you're awfully familiar. Have we met before? "

Henry's heart sank to the bottom of his empty stomach. It was another curse – It had to be. Robin obviously didn't know who he was, but his intuition told him he had seen Henry before. It was other curses all over again. Storybrooke had disappeared, and the citizens had lost their memories. It was like someone pressed a replay button.

" Um… " Henry mumbled, looking down at his feet, then back up to the familiar face. " Yeah, we have. A long time ago, but you wouldn't remember me. Do you think I could get a ride back? "

" To Portland? Of course you may, young man. " Robin flashed him a grin, and nodded at him to get into the seat next to him.

The car was itself was completely foreign, but the little touches were not. It was personalised with Robin-like items – A bow and arrow on a chain hanging on to the mirror, little bulls-eye stickers decorating the front of the car, a tree-shaped object propelling the scent of fresh earth into his face. It was familiar and welcome, but where he sat was an old worn seat, speaking tales of many travels. He felt as if he were intruding on a life he had watched but only recently joined, like he was joining a television family.

The car kicked into gear, chugging its way to a steady pace, occasionally giving a little huff or grunt.

" So, what's your name? " Robin asked, breaking the eerie silence.

" Um, Henry. You're… Robin, right? " The man glanced at him, incredulous, but nodded all the same. " Yes, that's my name. "

Silence befell the car once more, until Robin's knuckles tensed then relaxed. " So, Henry. What were you doing walking all alone out in the middle of nowhere? " His voice was light and airy, but the look he shot him was worried. It occurred to Henry that it might have been a bit strange - a filthy boy of fourteen, walking alone in a forest where no known town lay for miles, coincidentally knowing the name of his rescuer.

Best move? Play dumb.

" I… Don't really know. I sometimes lose my memories. And, uh, sleepwalk. " Henry mumbled. Real smooth. His excuses were weak, but they were still something. Robin snorted, but said nothing on the matter. " Right. And where are your parents? "

Henry paused. " I don't know that either. I was going to Portland to see if I could… " He trailed off, eyes widening. His brain began whirring, an epiphany occurring to him.

Many curses had happened, and many of them had been fixed with a simple True Love's kiss. Robin and Regina pretty much had True Love, right? And where Robin was, then…

" Do you know a woman named Regina Mills? "

The accelerator jolted a little, Robin's whole body tensing then relaxing, giving off a little chuckle. " I know a Regina, but her last name isn't Mills. "

Henry looked at him, frowning.

" Then what is it? " He said quietly, confused. What happened to his mum?

Robin grinned. " Locksley. Regina is my wife. "


Surprised? So am I. Well, not really, but you know what I mean. Drop a favourite for a penny, drop a follow for a dollar, and drop a review for a leprechaun (Colin? I can give you Colin) dancing on your doorstep.