This chapter was unexpected. I didnt know this character was coming into this scene until he quite literally walked in the door. Enjoy.

The bell rang, and he almost threw something in its direction. The bell was entirely too cheerful, and it reminded him for the umpteenth time for the woman back at his home.

"Belle, sweetheart?" he called again, the third time he'd tried to wake her this morning. The first time was when he woke, and she didn't even stir when he spoke her name. The second time was after his shower, when she mumbled something and burrowed into the pillows. Third time was not the charm.

"Mmmmff," came the groggy mumble, eyes barely cracking open.

His fingers gently brushed locks from her face. "I'm to make you breakfast, then off to the shop. Would you like to come with me today?" She'd decided to come with him for two days in a row, finding a few books and taking some time to peruse the many objects found there. She'd even managed to bring his back room into some semblance of order, sorting through bits and pieces he'd never gotten around to organizing.

"Tired," she sighed. "Wanna sleep."

It made him hesitate, but he simply nodded and gave her shoulder a gentle caress before pulling the blankets up around her. "I'm leaving the phone on the side table. Hit 'contact 1' if you need me."

"Be fine," Belle managed, her voice scratchy with sleep and not entirely awake. Although he hadn't liked the idea, he had shown her how to use the contact features the other day. She could reach him if she really needed to. The memory was doing nothing to ease his mind when his shop door opened just as he'd resolved to lock up for the day and return home. Return to her.

"Hi, Mr. Gold," the boy called, hesitating on the threshold.

"Henry," he said, surprised to see him. It wasn't often that he was caught off-guard, but at the moment Gold was more concerned that his mother—either of his mothers, for that matter—might be right behind his visitor. A quick glance showed an empty street, and he waved the child into his shop. Schooling his features into control, he asked, "What brings you to my shop?"

Henry Mills was a curious child, in fact few people Gold had met could rival this curiosity. Which after three hundred odd years of life, he could say he had met a great many people. The boy's eyes were wandering the shop, taking it in with an awe that seemed familiar, from the old world, but that Gold couldn't quite place.

The boy found the courage to step further into the shop, the door closing behind him. He glanced around for a half moment before walking to the counter and giving Gold a searching look. It was almost unnerving, and he wasn't sure if the boy learned it from Regina or from Emma or from somewhere else entirely. It was irritatingly familiar, and yet he couldn't place it.

"Shouldn't you be in school on a Friday?" Gold asked lightly, glancing at the clock that put the time as shortly after the lunch hour.

"Everyone went crazy after the curse broke. And... they still don't know why everyone didn't go back to the forest," he answered slowly, thinking over his words, as though he wasn't sure what to hold back and what to say. "My grandpa, um... Prince Charming, anyway, he said for everyone to keep doing what they were. You know, like live life and all that. But everyone freaked when Mr. Clark went over the town line and lost his memory. School wasn't that important this week."

He was mentally filing away all of this information. Typically Gold knew almost everything happening in this town. The last week and a half his priorities had been very much elsewhere. It was only by the happenstance of Belle in his shop that he wasn't that first person over the town line. Another setback, and Bae seemed farther away than ever. "You still haven't asked for your favor," he answered neutrally. Child though he might be, now was the time to ask or to leave.

"I want you to help my mom," came the brave request, only one hand playing with the strap of his backpack gave away Henry's nervousness.

His brow arched, though he kept his face a careful mask as he asked the all-important follow up question, "Which mother would this be?"

The thin mouth stretched into a line before he met Gold's gaze squarely, only a wisp of hair falling in his eyes to break the intensity. "Regina."

Gold couldn't stop the sneer at the name, his fingers curling tightly around his cane, the gesture hidden behind the counter. If he showed this boy his anger, no doubt the boy would run. Charming and his family would quickly descend upon him, and he really needed to return to his home. To Belle. "You know who she is." It was a statement. Not a question.

"The Evil Queen," came his solemn answer.

"And you've read that book of yours," Gold continued.

The nod was his answer.

"Good," was his succinct reply, turning on his heel toward the back room.

"Good?" Henry questioned, in a tone that was anything but good. "Wait, Mr. Gold, you're not going to help her? Why not?"

He glared over his shoulder, pausing in the doorway. "If you've read that book, you should know a great many reasons why I cannot and will not help her."

"But you have to help," Henry protested, daring to step forward again, coming around him and standing in the doorway to the back room. For a half moment, Gold wondered if this was a bit of nascent bravado the boy had inherited from Charming, but he decided it ran more along the defiance of one Emma Swan.

He shook his head. "I don't have to do anything. And you don't know what you're asking," he added in a low, fierce growl.

"You loved someone once. Belle," Henry tried, not budging from his spot. "And I love my mom."

"Your book may have left out some of the stories, certainly many of the details," he countered. "There is nothing here you need, so you ought to leave. I'm sure your family will be looking for you soon." He could feel his fingers gripping the cane tighter than ever, struggling not to rage at the boy. Henry knew nothing of what he spoke. He knew nothing of the woman and what she had endured. It wasn't a story fit for a child's ears, not even one as precocious as Henry Mills.

There as no sadness in the boy, only frustration and a great deal of anger. He stalked away, circling Gold and moving slowly to the main door. Just as he reached for the doorknob, he turned one more time. "If you can't help her, can you promise not to hurt her?"

His head shook slightly before the words followed, "No, I can't promise."

The boy's bottom lip trembled for a half second before he pressed it into a hard line and turned quickly, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud, the bell ringing in strained protest.

Gold slammed his cane against the wall just inside the workroom, barely having the presence of mind to make sure it wasn't in the show room. He gave a second smack for good measure before running his hand through his hair and struggling to even out his breath and find control. With a huff, he finally turned off the lights and let himself out, glad he had taken his car when the rain started halfway through his short drive home.