Part seven:

(Canon? What's Canon?)

Henry's room, (Halloween) morning, 2020

Henry woke up from the oddest dream, and then smiled when he realized what day it was.

"Yes! I get free candy!" Of course, he'd only be getting free candy because he was going trick or treating with dad's brother and sister Verity and Bastian, while their parents (his grandparents) stayed home with their six-month-old daughter Clara.

The day flew by in a flash and before he knew it he had had an awesome day and then great night with the twins.

After they had been put to bed, he sat at the parlor table with his grandpa's wife to brainstorm ideas for National Novel Writing Month.

As they talked of ideas, he soon found his writer's block had disappeared.

Soon, time got away, so much so Henry didn't realize how late it had gotten, until he heard the clock over Belle's library chime midnight.

On the twelfth ring, he looked up from his story of alternate timelines to see a flickering pale figure with jagged pointy teeth, holding a scythe.

Henry rubbed his eyes, thinking it was nothing more than his overactive imagination.

He said good-night a half hour later-to a yawning Belle.

Belle hadn't stopped shaking since he'd seen the flickering man, though Henry thought she couldn't possibly be cold seeing as they had a roaring fire ten feet away from them.

Henry shrugged his shoulders, and left, never once suspecting she saw the same thing or that she had broken the pen the Author had given him, causing him to never write a word, ever again.

The quiet town of Storybrooke stayed quiet, for hundreds of years; for after the destruction of the Author's pen, no Monsters, Bad Guys, or Villains ever bothered them again.

The Dark One, his wife, two sons, and two daughters, and extended family lived happily ever after…at least in 'this' reality.