Henry could hear voices murmuring from the kitchen as he shuffled down the stairs. He frowned, peering around the corner to see Hook sitting with Emma at the table, speaking with a tragic expression on his face.
"…regret that I turned to darkness," Henry could hear him saying as he made his way to the couch. "And it's haunted me my whole life."
"Well, there's a real fucking tragedy," Henry muttered, digging the remote out of the couch cushion. This wasn't the first time he'd accidentally walked in on one of their late-night talks, which usually centered around what a tragic little hero Hook was and how he was so sensitive and emotional, just full of love and angst and man-tears.
Henry put his feet up on the coffee table and switched on the television. The room instantly flooded with flashing lights and obnoxious sitcom laughter, making Emma and Hook look over. Henry frowned at the screen, aiming the remote as he flipped through channels.
"No….No… God, no," he said in disgust as Rachel McAdams sobbed over some guy in flannel.
"Henry," Emma called out tensely.
"Yeah?" he called back, still frowning as he flicked through some dull news programs.
"We're talking. Do you mind?"
"No." Henry tossed the remote on the couch, having settled on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives. Guy Fieri in all his bleached-blonde glory marveled at a crab cake that apparently had some sort of life-changing sauce on it.
"It's fine, love," he heard Hook say. "Don't worry about it."
"Yeah, could you keep it down?" Henry called, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Guy's talking about fennel seeds."
He watched for a few more minutes as Guy Fieri lost his mind over the complexity of the sauce (it must have been those magic fennel seeds), raising his eyebrows as the chef revealed the secret ingredient that made it so fantastic: smoked paprika.
Somewhere around the frying part of the demonstration, Henry started to feel hungry. He decided to wait until commercial break, wincing against the gurgling of his empty stomach. Thankfully, a Swiffer commercial came on soon after.
Henry pushed himself off the couch, and strode off toward the kitchen. Hook was still whispering tearfully in Emma's ear.
"…love more powerful than darkness," he was saying. "And I know that you—"
Henry flipped on the light, and banged open a few cupboard, looking for something interesting. Emma exhaled irritably.
"Henry," she said through clenched teeth.
"Hmm?" he said absently, rifling through cereal boxes. "Hey, are we out of Cheerios?"
"Do you have to do this now?" Emma seemed to be forcing herself to remain calm. "We're in the middle of something here."
"That's nice, Mom…" Henry frowned and put his hands on his hips, stumped. "Damn it, I really wanted Cheerios."
"Sorry, mate, but I was actually trying to talk to your mother about something rather important," Hook said, his voice sounding far less weepy and far more irritated than when he was gently sobbing in Emma's ear. "Do you think you could give us a few minutes?"
"Yeah, totally…" Henry scratched his head, giving up on finding Cheerios and now trying to decide between Frosted Flakes and Kix.
"Henry." Emma stood up from her chair, coming over to place her hands carefully on his shoulders. "Please."
"Hey, don't mind me," Henry shrugged, reaching for the Frosted Flakes. "You two go on, I'm not even here."
Emma sighed heavily, dropping her hands. "Henry, this is a private conversation. Can't you just—"
"Aw, goddamn it." Henry pulled a face, tasting the stale flakes. "Stale." He tossed the box back on the shelf, sighing. "There's nothing to eat in here."
"Then maybe you should go to bed," Emma said through clenched teeth.
Henry turned around, raising his eyebrows. "Are you asking me to leave?"
"Yes," Hook said flatly. Henry slid his eyes to the side, giving Hook a lingering look of disdain, before looking back at his mother.
"Mom?"
Emma smiled tightly. "If you wouldn't mind."
"Oh," he said. "All right, then."
He closed the cupboard, and turned around, giving Emma a frosty smile. "I'll just be on my way, then."
"Good night, Henry," she said, a hint of warning in her voice.
"Nighty-night," he smirked. He walked across the kitchen, pausing by Hook's chair to look down at him with, smiling coolly. Hook glanced up at him warily, bracing himself.
"See you later, Hook."
Hook raised an eyebrow. "See you later, Henry."
"By the way, your eyeliner's all smudgy. You might want to try a waterproof brand next time."
Hook smiled tensely. "Thanks for the tip, mate."
"No problem. And here's another tip." He clapped his hand on Hook's shoulder. "Fennel seeds. Guy Fieri swears by them."
"Okay."
"And smoked paprika. Gives it a nice kick."
"Brilliant. Thank you."
"And next time you tell your story about love helping you overcome darkness, may I recommend adding in some stuff about being an inner-city orphan overcoming social challenges and the underdog team winning the championship despite the odds?" Henry flashed him a sarcastic smile. "I mean, since you're going for boring and overused tearjerkers, you might as well go for the classics, right?"
"Henry," Emma said warningly.
"They've been focus-grouped, Mom. They work."
"Go to bed."
"I'm going, I'm going..." Henry walked out of the kitchen, hearing the chair scrape against the floor as Emma retook her seat; he climbed the stairs as they started murmuring again.
He leaned his elbows on the railing, bending across to yell down, "You know what's also good? Kids in wheelchairs, and bonding with stray dogs!"
"Good night, Henry!" Emma said loudly.
"Or try musical orphans who tap-dance!"
"I said, good night!"
"And don't forget about the fennel seeds!" he hollered. "They'll change your life!"
