"Don't slam the door in our face," Henry requested.
Neal briefly considered wishing Emma a happy birthday, but when the shock and horror on her face melted into hard anger, he thought better of it.
"What—how—" Emma sputtered. "What are you doing here?"
"He found me," Neal replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Said he was my kid. Didn't believe him at first—never thought you would keep something like that from me." He hadn't meant for his tone to sound accusatory, but the bitterness still slunk in.
Emma's eyes widened in anger. "You have absolutely no right to—" She halted briefly, noticing Henry had shrunk back from her tone. Neal watched her swallow her rage and force a reasonable tone.
"You don't have to be mad," Henry said mildly. "It's not Neal's fault we came here. I made him. I took a bus all the way from Maine to come." He promptly pushed past Emma into her apartment.
"Henry," Neal called after him, starting to follow. For a second, Emma blocked him, glaring daggers at him, letting him know through one expression that he was not nor ever would be welcome in her home. But she stepped aside, deciding that pursuing Henry was more important.
"You should get your stuff," Henry announced, flopping on a very uncomfortable looking couch. "We need to get going."
Emma took a deep breath. "Give me a minute," She disappeared into the hallway and Neal let out the breath he'd been holding.
"She sure hates you," Henry observed.
"Yeah, I noticed," Neal glanced around his surroundings. There didn't seem to be much in her apartment—no photos, no art, no signs that she was in any way attached to this place. The furnishings seemed unlike her too, cold and heartless, as if they'd been picked out by a commercial designer.
Emma reappeared, staring them both down. She cleared her throat. "Okay. Kid, I'm calling the cops to take you home."
"Then I'll tell them you two kidnapped me," Henry said firmly and Neal winced. Emma saw the movement and her lips pursed.
"Got you with that line, did he?" Emma said bitingly. "Figures you wouldn't come here unless you were blackmailed into it."
"How would you know," Neal snapped. "Since you never told me I had a kid?"
"Stop fighting or I'll tell the police you hit me too," Henry said grandly and both Emma and Neal silenced.
She looked hard at the resolved ten-year-old before her and something of a half-smile appeared on her face. "You're pretty good. But here's the thing—there's not a lot I'm great at in life. I have one skill. Let's call it a superpower. I can tell when anyone is lying and you, kid, are." She went to the phone receiver and Henry threw Neal a panicked expression.
"You really wanna chance that?" Neal folded his arms. "How's this gonna look to the cops? Estranged birth mother and father, who previously lived states apart, suddenly reunite with a kid in tow?"
Emma ignored him entirely, beginning to dial.
"Please don't call the cops!" Henry burst out. "Please…please come home with me. I need you both!"
Emma hesitated. She threw another hateful look towards Neal and set down the receiver, turning towards Henry.
"Where's home?" She wanted to know.
"Storybrooke, Maine."
Emma snorted. "Storybrooke? Seriously?"
Henry nodded. "And you both have to come with me," He pleaded.
She exhaled noisily and Neal shrugged towards her. It was hard to get a read on Emma—obviously he knew she was seething towards his presence but somewhere in between the chaos, she'd closed off all emotions towards him, refusing to acknowledge everything that was unresolved and unsaid. Frankly, he'd rather she scream at him then endure this ice.
"All right," Emma said decidedly. "We'll take you back to Storybrooke. We'll take two cars," She jerked her finger towards Neal. "I'm not riding with you. Then the kid goes back to his house quietly. Got it?"
"Got it," Henry affirmed. "I'll ride with you, Emma!"
"Fine," Emma brushed past Neal to grab her keys. "Though don't be surprised if Neal ditches us halfway. He's good at that."
At that precise moment, Neal's head began to pound. This was going to be a long night.
XXXX
At around midnight, Neal's tan Civic crossed into Storybrooke, Maine, on the heels of a yellow bug.
The yellow bug.
The moment he crossed into Storybrooke, something crept up the back of Neal's spine. There was something strange about this town. He could feel it in his bones—it was like walking around on cold medicine. Everything simply felt fuzzy. Unreal. In stasis. The town itself appeared charming, wholesome even, with a sort of center square, cute kitschy shops, the sort of place that thrived on bed and breakfasts for old married couples.
Things weren't always what they appeared. No one knew that better than Neal himself.
He parked behind Emma's yellow bug, watching her and Henry exit the car. He exhaled slowly, trying to shake the impending sense of doom that shadowed him.
His father could be in this town.
Neal exited his car and joined Emma, who was currently demanding Henry provide his address.
"Forty-four Not Telling You Street," Henry replied and Neal leaned against the yellow bug, throwing Emma a significant expression. She'd actually kept the bug.
Emma ignored the glance. "Look, it's been a long night and it's almost—" She looked upwards towards the clock tower. "8:15?"
"That clock hasn't moved my whole life," Henry told them. "Time's frozen here."
"Excuse me?" Emma crossed her arms.
Henry looked towards Neal. "I explained to her about the book," He said importantly. "The Evil Queen stopped time here. She sent everyone from the Enchanted Forest here."
Neal shivered—that would include Rumplestiltskin.
"Okay, the Evil Queen sent a bunch of fairytale characters here," Emma said skeptically.
"Yeah, and now they're trapped," Henry explained.
"Frozen in time, stuck in Storybrooke, Maine. That's what you're going with?" Emma asked dryly.
"It's true!" Henry protested.
"Then why doesn't everybody just leave?" Emma asked in exasperation.
"They can't," Henry said seriously. "If they try, bad things happen!"
"You left," Neal pointed out and then considered. Henry wasn't born in the Enchanted Forest, nor was he conceived there. Maybe that made a difference. But did that mean now that Neal was in Storybrooke…that he couldn't leave? His stomach lurched.
Henry opened his mouth to respond but someone interrupted. "Henry!"
The three turned to see a bespectacled man trot up towards them, walking a Dalmatian. He had curly red hair and approached them all a little warily.
"Henry, what are you doing here? Is everything all right?" He asked, his eyes flicking between Neal and Emma.
"I'm fine, Archie," Henry said nervously.
"Who's this?" Archie asked, gesturing towards Neal and Emma.
"Just two people giving him a lift home," Emma broke in before Neal could answer.
"They're my parents, Archie!" Henry said eagerly.
Archie's eyes widened. "Oh, I see," He said softly, taking both Neal and Emma in.
"You know where he lives?" Emma asked pointblank and Henry flinched.
"Yeah, sure," Archie responded, a little taken aback at this turn of events. "Just, uh, right up on Mifflin street. The Mayor's house is the biggest one on the block."
Emma whirled towards Henry. "You're the mayor's kid?!"
Henry scuffed his foot. "Uh, maybe…"
Neal reflected—that made a lot of sense. If the Evil Queen had cast the curse, she'd give herself the best life possible, a life with the most control. As mayor, she'd rule everyone's lives.
"Hey, where were you today, Henry?" Archie asked suddenly. "Because you missed your session."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, I went on a field trip," Henry answered quickly and Archie sighed in response.
"Henry, what did I tell you about lying?" He asked reprovingly. "Giving into one's dark side never accomplishes anything."
Tell that to Rumplestiltskin, Neal thought to himself dryly but suddenly stilled. Henry hadn't been lying—the Evil Queen was trying to make him think that he was crazy. That's why Henry saw a shrink. He sucked in his breath. He was suddenly looking forward to meeting this queen—sounds like they had a few things to settle.
XXXX
They arrived in front of a large white house, obviously the fanciest and most elaborate home in the entire town. Neal hadn't spoken much since they'd arrive, but he was jumpy—perhaps afraid that his father was going to spring out of nowhere.
But did this mean Rumplestiltskin was under the curse as well? Had Rumplestiltskin forgotten who he was? Did this mean…instead of the Dark One, if Neal were to run into him…would he be the same man Neal had loved? A poor spinner, afraid of his own shadow, but kind at heart? Or perhaps a tailor in this world…Neal shook the scattered thoughts aside briskly. There was no time for this.
Henry halted. "Please don't take me back there," He begged, suddenly appealing to Neal. Neal swallowed hard. He looked at Emma worriedly and a brief shadow fell over her countenance, before she hardened.
"I have to. I'm sure your parents are worried sick about you," Emma replied, doggedly heading towards the house.
"I don't have parents!" Henry burst out. "Just a mom and she's evil!"
"Evil? That's a bit extreme, isn't it?" Emma asked wryly.
"She is! I told you!" Henry reached for Neal's hand. "She doesn't love me. She only pretends to. Please, Dad! I don't want to go back!"
Neal looked gravely at Emma, who bit her lip. It was clear she was thinking the same thing as him, worrying about Henry's safety. Worse still, if she were an Evil Queen from the Enchanted Forest…had she hurt Henry? Had she been cruel to him? Suddenly, Neal wanted to throw the entire con away, confess all, and take Henry away from here, far from the dangers and evils of his world.
"Kid…I'm sure that's not true…" Emma said weakly.
"Emma," Neal said quietly. "Maybe we should—"
"Henry!"
The door to the house opened and a woman rushed out. She was beautiful, in all honesty, with dark hair and expressive eyes, wearing a classy dress. She flung her arms around Henry, nearly sobbing with relief. Neal watched her carefully, his eyes flicking towards a cop who ambled up to them.
"Henry!" She gasped. "Are you okay? Where have you been? What happened?"
"I found my real parents!" Henry snapped, shoving away from her. He darted inside the house, leaving her alone with Neal and Emma.
She gaped at them, fear flooding her face. Neal scratched his nose, suddenly feeling awkward. He'd expected something of an evil witch, but at the moment…she seemed an ordinary, concerned parent…
Looks can be deceiving.
"You're—you're Henry's birth parents?" Her voice shook as she stared at them both.
"Yeah, but we're not together," Emma said hastily. "He just—found us both."
"Neal Cassidy," Neal introduced, extending a hand. She did not take it but her eyes narrowed towards both of them. Calculating.
"I'll just—go check on the lad. Make sure he's all right," The cop edged away from the awkward encounter, retreating into the house.
There was a long pause before a smile broke out on the woman's face.
"My name is Regina Mills," She said graciously. "How would you two like a glass of the best apple cider you've ever tasted?"
"Got anything stronger?" Neal and Emma asked in unison.
XXXX
Regina's house was immaculate. Too immaculate. It looked like something out of a magazine for furniture. There were no crumbs on her counters, no scattered toys, no roller blades to trip over. Everything was perfectly precise, more like a photo shoot than a home.
Neal didn't like it.
She led them into her parlor and poured them both a glass of cider. Emma took a large sip but Neal only held his. He knew better than to down a drink from his land.
"How did he find me?" Emma wondered aloud, taking in her surroundings.
"No idea," Regina said smoothly. "When I adopted him, he was only three weeks old. Records were sealed. I was told the birth mother didn't want to have any contact." There was the barest hint of judgment in Regina's tone that made Emma's expression flicker.
"You were told right," She said flatly.
"And you?" Regina turned towards Neal.
"I've known about Henry's existence for approximately eight hours," Neal replied, a little coolly. "And honestly—I would have wanted contact."
Regina stiffened. "Unfortunately, that is neither here nor there," She said coldly and Neal bristled. Emma shot him a warning look but he ignored it.
"Oh, yeah?" Neal said challengingly but before Regina could retort, the sheriff interrupted, coming downstairs.
"Madam Mayor, you can relax," He announced. "Other than being a tired little boy, Henry's fine."
"Thank you, Sheriff," Regina's gaze never left Neal's. The cop exited and she took a deep breath.
"Unfortunately, Mr. Cassidy," She said matter-of-factly. "I'm afraid you'll find that under Maine law, you are not recognized as a legal guardian and you have no obligation or responsibility towards Henry. I do appreciate your concern, but as it stands, you're free to go back to wherever you came from."
Neal rose, fists clenching. "Yeah? We'll see about that," He snarled. He turned from the room, leaving Emma and Regina alone.
He stormed out of the obscenely perfect house, trying to control his temper. To his surprise, the sheriff was waiting outside, leaning against his car.
"Is there a problem?" Neal asked warily.
The cop shook his head. "Not at all. I do know that Regina's drinks can be a little poisonous, though. I wouldn't recommend driving." His accent was foreign—in this world, it would've been Irish. Neal wondered who the sheriff actually was.
"Nah—I'm not leaving," Neal ran his fingers through his hair. "At least not yet. You know of a hotel I can stay at?"
"Try Granny's," The cop advised. "Just down the road."
"Great," Neal muttered, starting on his way. He paused for a second, turning back towards the sheriff.
"Hey, uh…" He tried to remember if the cop had introduced himself.
"Graham," The sheriff smiled. "Something else you need?"
"Yeah—you know any lawyers in this town?" Neal asked.
Graham's brow furrowed. "Lawyers, hm?"
"Uh huh," Neal glanced towards the house. "I, uh…didn't know that I had a son. Till today, actually. And, well…just wanted to know if I have any rights."
"Well, for legal representation, you'd probably want to ask Mr. Gold," Graham suggested. "But I warn you, he's not exactly cheap."
"What lawyer is, right?" Neal grinned and the two men exchanged a smile.
"Well, he's also a pawnbroker. You'll find his shop across from the library, in the town square," Graham directed. "I hope things work out for you."
"Yeah, me too," Neal said distractedly. He waved at the sheriff and started down the road.
Granny's Bed and Breakfast turned out to be a charming place, though a bit outdated. There was no wifi, no internet at all, it seemed—and while Granny, the concierge was obliging and gracious, he couldn't help but feel disquieted. He requested a forest view, thinking it would be less distracting. In any case, something about this damn town gave him the creeps.
Well, not something. There was no doubt about it—this town was under a curse. He also had the sinking suspicion that his original theory was correct—that Rumplestiltskin had crafted this curse. But if he had, why would he allow himself to be cursed? He must have included some sort of loophole, something that would allow him to remember who he was. Neal exhaled, flopping on the bed in exhaustion.
He wondered what had become of Emma and Regina. He'd been too angry with them both to pursue their conversation—but reflecting, should he really blame Emma for not telling him about Henry? He had left her. He had done it with good intentions—this damn destiny August had gone on about—but he'd still left her. Despite how much it hurt leaving her, hadn't there been even the slightest moment of relief for him? That he wouldn't be caught up in the magic he'd spent so long hating? She had no reason to tell him anything anymore. She was right. He walked out of her life, she'd moved on. It was unlikely she even wanted anything to do with him anyway.
But Henry…Henry was in danger. They had to keep him safe—they had to break this curse, if only for him! Neal's promise to August to stay away from Emma was now invalid, not with his son's life and happiness on the line.
With that, Neal rolled over and fell asleep.
XXXX
Neal awoke to a loud banging on his door. Tiredly, he stumbled out of bed but before he could reach the door, it burst open.
Regina stormed over to him in fury, Emma and Sheriff Graham close at her heels. "Where's my son?!" She demanded. "Did you take him?"
"What?" Neal hadn't quite woken up yet. "What are you talking about?"
"Where is he?" She shouted. "I know you have him! You asked Graham about a lawyer, you're trying to take Henry away from me!"