Choices

By: Jecir

Chapter Seven: If You Just Believe

Rumplestiltskin gaped at Henry; he was hovering between clarity and insanity. He tilted his head to the side and eyed Henry over. A sly smile spread across his face. "Foolish child," he said. The dealmaker had surfaced. "So easily swayed to give up your name."

"It is a risk I am willing to take to change Fate," Henry replied.

"Fate?" Rumplestiltskin cackled. "Fate cannot be changed."

"Maybe not," Henry admitted. A second warning rumbled through his mind. The Wild Magic was closer. He still had time, though, and he planned to make use of it. "But nothing can be worse than this." He pointed back at Baelfire. "My father is dead. This is not the first time, but I want to make it the last."

Rumplestiltskin glanced at his son's corpse. "No magic can reverse death," he snarled.

"Says you," Henry muttered bitterly.

"Even if there were," Rumplestiltskin continued pointedly. "The price would be far more than you could pay."

Henry grinned. It was not the charming grin he inherited from his grandpa or the smirk of stubborn confidence he had gotten from Emma. This grin reflected the dealmaker he was facing. His mind was racing with details, theories, and a very risky plan. He utilized his joint consciousness with Evangeline to supply the information he needed to see this work. There were thousands of worlds that could have been. Each contained truths that could not change and facts that could. Evangeline had done a thorough job of keeping the flow of information limited. He could not see the worlds, but he could, at least, pull knowledge. What he pulled confirmed what he had suspected, and his foolhardy plan solidified.

"A life for a life," Henry said. He locked his gaze with his grandfather's. "That's the price, right? If I want someone to live, I have to be willing to die."

Rumplestiltskin answered with a slow nod.

Henry thrust his hand through the bars. "Then it's a deal."

Rumplestiltskin looked at Henry's hand in disbelief; then, he began to laugh. "I see your lineage clear! You are the spawn of that foolish shepherd. Would you throw your life away so swiftly? How heroic."

"A hero's death is overrated," Henry said. He was aware of the irony of his response. He had put his family in danger time and again simply because he wanted to play the hero.

"And yet," Rumple leaned forward until his face was pressed into the bars. "A hero's death is what you are seeking."

"No." Henry shook his head. "It's a fool's death. Only a fool would challenge Fate, but I would rather be a fool who tried than a hero who dies for no reason."

"What more do you know?" Rumplestiltskin whispered. He had heard the hollow pain echoing in Henry's words.

Thunder rumbled overhead. The cave shook. Both Henry and Rumplestiltskin looked about.

"The Wild Magics," Henry whispered. "This world is about to end."

"An inconvenient time to strike a deal, then," Rumplestiltskin hummed.

"Your deals span lifetimes and worlds," Henry said. "It does not matter when or where, the deal will remain. Now the question is, Rumplestiltskin, do you want to deal?"

The cave shook again, dust fell from the ceiling, yet Rumplestiltskin kept is gaze locked on this strange lad. "What is it you want?"

"My father's life."

"Impossible," Rumplestiltskin said. "You would die for him?"

"Yes!" Henry said.

"And do you think I would let you?" the Dark One challenged. "If what you say is true and my son's blood flows through you, I would never allow it."

The thundering and the shaking hit again; stronger, louder, and much closer; Henry could feel the beginnings of this world's unravelling. He needed to hurry. He did not know if he would ever have this chance again, and he needed to make this deal!

"That's what he did for you!" Henry said.

That got the imp's attention.

"Question for a question; answer for an answer, deal?" Henry asked. He waved his still extended hand.

Rumplestiltskin shook his hand. "Deal. Now what do you mean that's what he did for me?"

"My mother told me that my father died a hero's death; to save us; but she lied! My father died a fool's death. He was trying to resurrect you. He knew the consequences, but he ignored them. He chose you over me even after he promised to come back!"

"What?" Rumple gasped.

"You sacrificed yourself to save us; my father sacrificed himself for you; now I am going to save him!" Henry insisted. "This cycle in our family needs to end. I will change our Fates!"

"How?" Rumple asked. "How can you possibly succeed where others have failed?"

Henry grinned. "Because I am the Truest Believer, and I have a wish to make. Will you trust me?" He gripped his grandfather's hand. "Will you believe?"

Rumplestiltskin stared at the boy in shock. The tormented father inside of him was battling with the centuries of magical knowledge that was telling him that it was impossible. He had faced Fate; he knew what happened when you tempted her. This boy, though, he... "You are so much like Bae."

Rumplestiltskin shook Henry's hand. "Life for a life," he said. "The deal is struck."

Henry nodded. "Thank you. Now, how do I get out of here?"

Question for question; answer for answer; thanks to his grandfather's answers, Henry had been able to get Evangeline to the surface in time to open a portal to the next what if. They were now centuries ahead of their last jump point. It was not long after the second great Ogre's War; a few years at most. There had not been any silver flash preceding a historical rewrite.

"That's good," Evangeline had said before she fell asleep. "It means we are close to the Prime Timeline."

It was late. They were sitting between a barrel and a trash heap in an alleyway that opened up to some docks. Evangeline had dropped them there and then collapsed. She was still recovering from her stint underground. Henry looked up at the glowing moon and sighed heavily. He could feel the magic of the deal. It felt like something locked around his heart. A mix of relief and apprehension churned in his gut. He was relieved that his assumption had worked—that the deal would be in place regardless of world or time—yet he was apprehensive of how he would fulfill his end. His joint knowledge showed him that it was possible, but there was no real guarantee. In the end, he and his father could both be dead. It was a risk he had taken, and he would not regret it.

Evangeline shifted but did not awaken. Henry watched her for a minute and wondered if this was what she had done after she had pulled him out of the Wild Magics. That moment felt like an eternity ago. Henry barely recognized the boy in that memory. Well, he wondered if it was still a memory or if it was a historical fact. He was having trouble keeping it straight in his mind. His life was gone; it had been erased by the Wild Magics. He did not technically exist, thus his memories were not memories, right? They did not feel like memories anymore. Henry was realizing that fact the longer he was connected to his Wishing Star. What had once been his memories—filled with personal connection and emotions—were now scenes played out on the movie screen of his mind. He watched them as a detached bystander. He wondered if that was how Evangeline felt watching the world from afar.

A group of drunks stumbled past. Henry watched them go. A soft silver light suddenly outlined the drunks and, for a moment, reality split into two. Henry blinked in surprise. The anomaly was fixed solely on the three men. Nothing else was distorted. Henry glanced down at Evangeline. The magic was not coming from her. He looked up again; the split was still there. Within the silver light were patches of scenes; other realities, his joint mind supplied. These scenes were playing out on a kind of multidimensional screen visible only to him.

Henry carefully crept out from the alleyway to follow the drunks. He wanted to see what these scenes were. He stayed on his toes and remained a few feet back. The drunks stopped at the corner, and Henry crouched behind a barrel. The scenes came into sharp focus. They were what if's Henry realized; each one a small depiction of other paths these men could have taken had they not chosen to go drinking. There was magic pulsing from the scenes. Tentatively, Henry used his connection with Evangeline to touch one of the scenes. A surge of energy hit him, and his mind was assaulted by the timeline that would not be because of the choices made by that man. The images were a blur; too fast to process and gone too quickly to grasp.

Henry slumped back behind the barrel and fought to catch his breath. That little trick was new. The drunks had not known anything was amiss and had stumbled on their way down the street. As Henry's mind came down from the magical rush, he was struck with a thought. Evangeline had said she had limited the amount of information he was allowed to see least he abuse the information, and yet, he had seen an entire timeline. How?

Henry closed his eyes. He needed to clear his mind. Having Evangeline's mind linked to his awarded him knowledge no human could ever have. He figured this was similar to being in the Matrix. Evangeline's access to all realms had helped him to craft his deal with Rumplestiltskin. He had processed lifetimes of information in seconds and was able to solidify a plan within minutes. He was about to do it again.

The moment he had touched the scenes, Henry had used magic. It had been his magic producing the scenes—his magic fueled by the connection he now shared with Evangeline. Henry had never consciously used magic before then. On principle, he hated magic. It corrupted, stole, and lied, but it had also been a necessary evil in his life. Henry would prefer not to use magic if he could help it, and everything he had gleaned from Evangeline's mind had come to him instinctually, which, in his eyes, did not count as actually using magic. If, however, he could use his magic to access the timelines, then maybe he could end this quest.

Henry crossed his legs and sat up straight; forcing himself to breath as deeply as he could—slowly and evenly. He turned his thoughts toward his connection with Evangeline. It was not easy; his mind was whirling; but he pressed forward. Something twinkled in the back of his mind. It was a small pinprick of silver light. He focused on it; imagining himself getting closer to it. The closer he came, the more it filled his consciousness. He came to what he assumed was the threshold of Evangeline's mind. It was bright and pulsing with pure magic. Henry held his breath and pressed the threshold with his mind. There was no resistance. Whatever barrier Evangeline had created was gone and the doors to the worlds were open to him. Breathing a quick apology to the Wishing Star, Henry entered the light.

A surge of silver magic filled his mind. Henry's consciousness was swept up in a rush of images. Scenes from thousands of what if's filled his mind's eyes. All around him were scenes of what could have been had his family chosen differently. He saw unending possibilities for happiness and for despair. Wars were ragged; kingdoms rose and fell; and history was rewritten over again. He saw happily ever after's, tragic catastrophes, and all that could be fit in between.

He saw worlds where the curse had never been cast; others where the curse was cast but not by Regina; and worlds where Emma never escaped the curse. He saw the choices his family could have made—Snow never returning to save Charming; David refusing to go with Rumplestiltskin to become Prince James; Regina choosing not to pursue magic; and Rumplestiltskin failing to get the dagger.

He saw his parents meeting time and time again—always in different ways. He saw both his parents get trapped by the curse as children. He saw both his parents escape through the enchanted tree. He saw his mother get taken by Pan's shadow and then, years later, escaping Neverland with Baelfire only to fly blindly into Storybrooke to face the curse as age-frozen children. He saw his father, grown, fighting August in a dark alley way and declaring that no one was going to take Emma from him. He saw Neal coming back for them only to lose Emma but adopt him. He saw them, time and again, as a family.

The images were overwhelming. Henry felt like a boat lost in a storm. He needed to steer the proverbial sea. He forced his mind to focus; to think on the one thing he had hoped to find. He latched onto that one thing for dear life. Once it was in his heart, everything shifted. Instead of being swept away in a rage of what if's, Henry found himself suddenly being pulled forward. All around him were new images—images of his family as he had knew them.

He saw Rumplestiltskin take the dagger and stab the Dark One; he saw his father fall through the portal for the first time. He saw Milah die; Cora abandon Zelena; and Regina's christening. He saw Daniel die, Regina learn magic, and Belle choose servitude. The images began to move faster and faster. Snow and Charming find each other, Regina casts the curse, and Emma is born.

The timeline began to fight against his hold. Henry fought against the push. He needed to reach the end of this timeline. The images sped up and began to blur. He could barely make out what he was seeing. Emma coming to Storybrooke, the curse breaking, dream talks and a trip to New York; his father being there and then gone; Pan; the second curse. Pressure built in Henry's mind. The timeline buckled and strained against his will. Henry nearly lost his grip on the timeline. He silently pleaded with the magic to obey. He was almost there.

He can see it. The moment this all started. The image is bright and clear. It is getting closer and closer now; just a few more moments.

The magic surged.

"No!" Henry gasped.

The magic broke free, and he was swept away again. The what if's churned around him, pulled him under, and smothered his consciousness; Henry tried to focus, but the magic would not be tamed. Henry fought the magical current; desperate; he needed to make it back to his own mind.

"Henry!"

The magic froze around him.

"Henry, come back!"

Henry suddenly and inexplicably began to fall through the paused images.

"Come on, come on...please..."

Below, Henry could see himself. He was slumped against the barrel. Evangeline was knelt over him; shaking him and calling his name.

The Truest Believer freefell back into his own body; he jolted awake as if from a deep sleep and looked around; his heart was racing and his mind was frantically trying to assimilate everything that had happened.

Then Evangeline slapped him across the face, and the world righted itself.

"What were you thinking, you foolish, impulsive, wool-brained human!" she demanded.

Henry rubbed his cheek. "I was trying to remember what happened when I wished," he admitted sheepishly.

"And why in all the realms would you try that?" she snapped.

"Because that's the reason we are in this mess!" Henry replied. "I need to remember my wish so we can stop the Wild Magic and fix the timelines."

"Henry," Evangeline groaned and sat next to him. "Simply remembering the moment will not help."

"That isn't what you said when you first found out that I forgot," Henry pointed out. His head was pounding from the magical overload and from the slap that followed. "You had planned to take me back to right before I made my wish, remember? To jog my memory."

"That was before every world and timeline was put in jeopardy," Evangeline said. "Your wish was still fresh then. A few minutes missing from your life would not have hindered you pinpointing your intended wish had we done that. The impression of the wish was still there; the connection to the emotions and the circumstances. Now that your timeline is gone..." she trailed off and shook her head. "Experiencing the memory now would be no different than watching a movie for all the difference it will make."

"I know," Henry whispered. "Our connection told me."

Evangeline sighed heavily. "Henry, why did you do that, truthfully? I told you I did not want you seeing everything."

"The barrier was down," Henry muttered.

"And that made it alright, I suppose?"

Henry shook his head, "No." He met Evangeline's angry stare. "I wanted to make my wish before..."

"Before what?" Evangeline probed when Henry trailed off.

"Before I realized I could not save him," Henry said. "Regina killed my dad in the last what if. That was the third time I watched him die, and my connection with you implied that there were more worlds where I lose him than not and I...I don't know if I can change that, so I made a deal with Rumplestiltskin."

"You did what?" Evangeline exclaimed.

"Interesting," a shockingly familiar voice purred.

Henry and Evangeline looked up in unison. Captain Killian Jones was standing on the other side of the barrel behind which they had hidden. He was watching them intently; some of his more menacing crewmen were flanking him. "What a serendipitous circumstance," Killian said. "Here I am faced with the dilemma of a duel with the Dark One and what do I find? A potential solution to my problem."

"You're wrong, Hook," Henry said swiftly and without thought. "We can't help you."

Killian laughed and stepped out from behind the barrel. "The name's Killian Jones, boy," he corrected; then, he drew his sword and pointed it at Evangeline. "And a boy in a hurry to make a wish is exactly what I need."