"Henry, look… your mother's just worried about you."

Henry rolled his eyes. "Why? It's not like I do anything—ever."

Robin sighed tiredly, rubbing his eyes. Henry stared at him, the picture of boredom. He liked Robin well enough, but this wasn't Robin talking: this was Regina. He could tell how reluctant Robin was to talk to him about his "behavior", so Regina must have put him up to it.

And it wasn't like Robin had any place to lecture him: he wasn't his dad. Henry had a dad, and a pretty awesome dad at that. Neal had come into his life two years ago, but it felt like he'd always been there. He was more than just his biological father. Neal had essentially come back to life, taking a bullet and being ripped through a portal, just to save him after he'd been kidnapped and taken to Neverland—the place that Neal had wanted to leave behind forever. That was his father. Not Robin. Neal.

So if he didn't have a problem with Henry's behavior, why was Robin bitching about it?

"All right, Henry, I'm going to level with you," Robin said, placing his hands flat on the kitchen table. "Last week, when Regina came to me and asked me to talk to you—"

Spy on me, but whatever, Henry thought dryly.

"—I didn't tell her this, but I really disagreed with her on this one. You know, you're nearly fifteen years of age. It's natural for you to want a life of your own, and I think you should have one…"

Henry's eyes glazed over as Robin went on about things Henry was perfectly aware of.

What? He was almost fifteen? Really?

And what was that? It was okay for him to want his own space and—oh, it was a good thing he was sitting down for this one—it was normal?

Robin's heart was in the right place, but he wasn't being particularly helpful; if he really wanted to do something, he should be working on getting Regina off his back.

"…get into trouble or anything, I want you to know you can come to me. I can help." Robin offered him a smile.

Henry smiled back blandly. "Thanks, Robin, but I've got everything under control. I've actually got a lot of homework to do, so…" He twirled his pencil between his fingers and looked pointedly toward the door.

Robin looked startled. "I'm sorry, Henry," he said, scrambling to pick up his coat. "I didn't mean…was I talking too much? I didn't want to keep you from your studies—"

"Yeah, no, it's fine," Henry said, flipping through his calculus textbook.

"So, just call if you need anything, all right? Do you know when your grandparents are coming home?"

"Nope." Henry frowned in concentration as he started deciphering a word problem.

"Tell you what—if you get hungry and they're still not back, you can have dinner with me and Roland. What do you say?"

"Mmm." So, we'll say that "Cost" is f(x)=…shit, how do you do these ones again?

"All right, then. See you later, Henry." Robin ruffled his hair (which was annoying) and left. Henry had the loft to himself.

Yay…

He closed the calculus book, and rested his chin on it. He couldn't stand this anymore. He hated this loft, this stupid, cramped loft. He hated starting high school and realizing that while he'd spent all that time running around after Snow White and Prince Charming and the rest of the Fairy Tale Police Force, the other kids had been hanging out, forming their cliques, deciding if they were jocks or nerds or band geeks… Henry wasn't anything. He was still the little kid clutching the storybook, reciting fairy tales until he was blue in the face. Meanwhile, his entire family was made up of total badasses.

His grandparents were Snow White, Prince Charming, and Rumplestiltskin. Two legendary, sword-wielding, arrow-shooting heroes, and the most powerful sorcerer in the land.

His mother was the Savior. Another sword-wielding hero, with the added firepower of light magic.

His adopted mother was the Evil Queen. Enough said.

They even had Captain Hook in there, the legendary…uh…Henry frowned. What did he do, other than sleep his way through the entire Enchanted Forest?

The point was, Henry lived in the shadows of their spotlight. Oh, sure, they all thought giving him a special title had helped, but the Heart of the Truest Believer? He was in high school, for God's sake, he didn't need that name kicking around!

He needed to make his own legacy. He wasn't exactly sure on what he wanted to do…or how he was going to do it…or even really what constituted a legacy, but he DID know that it was going to be epic!

Whatever it was.

In the meantime, he was going to work on getting some breathing space. Getting out and stretching his legs, doing some normal teenager things. Nothing illegal—mostly because his family basically OWNED the entire police department. Just…normal.

His alarm beeped. Henry looked down, feeling his heart thud. It was six o'clock: the dinner shift at Granny's. He had checked the schedule, she'd definitely be working now—

He grabbed his coat, pausing in front of the mirror to carefully push his bangs into a messy, windswept style. Then he had to re-zip his hoodie, trying to decide between a half-zip and a three-quarter-zip. Settling on the three-quarter, Henry gave his reflection one last appraisal, and shrugged: it would do.

As he pounded down the stairs, he gave himself a pep-talk, trying to calm his nerves. He'd had quite a growth spurt last year; he looked much older than he had before—practically grown… Okay, maybe that was exaggerating.

But he did shoot up at least five inches. And last week, he found a hair on his upper lip! Well…okay, so it turned out to be an eyelash, but it was something.

And an eyelash was a kind of hair…right?

"Hey, kid, where's the fire?" David said as Henry practically flew by him and Mary Margaret.

"Eating at the diner! See you later!" he called over his shoulder, not stopping for a second. He couldn't help feeling annoyed with them. "Where's the fire?" God, do they have to know EVERYTHING? Did he have to run every insignificant life decision by them?

Henry hopped on his bike and raced to Granny's like he was in the friggin' Tour de France. He zoomed past Jefferson and his daughter, ignoring Grace's, "Hi, Henry!" He didn't have time for Grace; he had more important things to focus on right now.

He chained the bike to the rack, taking a moment mess up his hair properly. After he checked it in the reflection of the window, he took a deep breath. Okay, Mills, he told himself. Let's do this.

He swung open the door to Granny's, heart in his throat. Trembling, he walked toward the counter. Be cool, he ordered himself. Just be cool. He slid onto a stool, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. Where was she? He glanced at the clock: it was ten after six, she should definitely be here—

"Hey, Henry."

His heart skipped a beat. There she was.

"Hi, Ruby," he said, hating himself instantly for how shaky his voice sounded. Ruby raised an eyebrow, smiling.

"You okay?" she said. Henry coughed.

"I'm fine," he shrugged, trying to talk a little lower. "How's it going?"

"As well as it ever does," she said, rolling her eyes. "You know what you want?"

"Not yet," he said, trying to keep her talking to him longer. "Hey… can I ask you something?"

Ruby raised her eyebrows, looking intrigued. "Ooo-ooh," she said slyly, resting her chin on her hands. "Is it about a girl?"

"Yeah, you could say that," he said, feeling his ears redden. "I just…uh…"

Ruby gasped. "You like her."

A very small voice in his head scoffed. Yeah, duh, what else could it possibly be about? Nothing gets past this one.

Shut up! he told the voice furiously. Ruby's smart…ish.

"I don't really know what to say to her," Henry said. "I mean, we've been friends forever, but now… I don't really know how to talk to her."

"Well, maybe you should just throw it out there," Ruby said reasonably. "I mean, be casual about it, you don't want to seem too eager. But maybe she likes you back, and she's just too nervous to tell you." She seemed to be holding back a laugh. "Henry, you can tell me," she said, leaning forward enough to make his head tingle. "Is it Grace?"

Aaaaaannnnddddd…. the moment was over.

Henry looked back at her, unsure how to answer. "Uh…"

"Evening, love!"

Oh, God…what is he doing here? Henry rolled his eyes as Hook took a seat a few stools down from him. Ruby's face lit up…disappointingly so. Henry frowned as she straightened up and went over to Hook.

Wait a minute.

"No, come on," Henry muttered. He knew that grin; he'd seen Hook try it on his mom practically every day. And that weird-eyebrow-dance, that was all too familiar. But Ruby was just eating it up.

WHY?

"You know what you want?" Ruby was saying, her hand on her hip. Henry's eyes narrowed as Hook lifted an eyebrow.

"Well… I've an idea."

"Oh, barf," Henry said under his breath, glaring at Hook as Ruby giggled. His fists clenched when she playfully hit him across the counter.

"Your usual?" she asked, simpering.

"If it's not too much trouble."

"Too much trouble"? She's a waitress, for crying out loud! This is her livelihood, you moron. How could it be too much trouble? Henry gritted his teeth, watching Ruby scamper away. In what universe was any of this fair? Hook had already tried to dig his claws into his mom, laying all that "I love you" crap on her every chance he got; now he had to go after Ruby, too?

Hook caught sight of Henry out of the corner of his eye, and smiled. "Hey, Henry," he said, holding up a hand in greeting.

Henry stared back at him sourly. Hook frowned.

"Everything all right, mate?"

Ugh. Mate. "Everything's fine," Henry said, forcing a smile. "So, what's the deal between you and Ruby, hmm? You guys going out, or what?"

Hook first looked startled by his abruptness, then amused. He snorted, wagging a finger at him. "You sound just like your mother."

What every teenage boy needs to hear. "So, is that a 'no'?" Henry asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. The last thing he needed was for Hook to tease him about girls.

Hook was saved from answering by Ruby reappearing, drink in hand. "There you go," she said, beaming at him.

"Thanks, love," Hook said, winking at her. Henry closed his eyes, forced to endure another bout of Ruby giggling.

"It wasn't even funny," he grumbled petulantly, resting his cheek on his hand.

"So…" Ruby smiled at Hook from under her eyelashes. "We still on for this weekend?"

This weekend? Henry sat up, feeling a jolt of panic in his stomach. What was this weekend? Who was "we"? Not her and Hook, please not her and Hook. How? Why? What? No—it just—can't—WHY DOES HE ALWAYS SWOOP IN? Henry put his face in his hands, trying to control his breathing.

"You all right, mate?"

Henry lifted his face out of his hands to see Hook and Ruby looking at him in concern. He swallowed, feeling his blood pulse in his head.

"I'm fine," he managed. His heart threatened to punch its way out of his chest, and his throat was strangely tight. "I have to go," he said, sliding off the stool.

"Go?" Ruby repeated, knitting her eyebrows together. "Henry. You didn't even order anything."

"Not hungry," he muttered.

He kept his eyes on his feet as he walked out of the diner and to the bike rack. As he undid the chain, he noticed his hands were shaking. Pull yourself together, he told himself, swinging his leg over the seat and pedaling toward the sidewalk. It won't last forever. Hook and Ruby wouldn't last, he'd bet his last dollar on it. All he had to do was be patient. Things would work themselves out, they always did when you—

Yeah, but what if they don't? Henry glared, pedaling faster the angrier he got. That hopeful optimism crap? That was his grandparents talking, not him. They believed that if you just believed enough, things would be okay. Well…that may have worked out for them in their Enchanted Forest days, battling monsters and evil sorcerers, but this was not the Enchanted Forest. And much as he hated to admit it, this was not a battle between a hero and a villain, where good would always win. This was a one-sided struggle over a pretty girl, and Hook would win because he could actually grow a mustache—a real one. Ruby would always look at Henry and see him as that ten-year-old boy, who believed in magic and hope and fairy tales.

Goddamn, he hated that boy.

Where did believing ever get him? All he ever did was convince other people to be awesome, acting as their own personal cheerleader on their way to becoming a hero. But Henry…? He couldn't sword-fight; he couldn't do anything. The only thing he could do was sit back and wait for other people to save him. He was helpless. And he hated it.

Not for the first time, his thoughts turned to magic.

He knew that magic always came with a price. He knew that trying to solve your problems with magic was just asking for trouble. But…he wasn't looking to solve anything with magic, not really. He just didn't want to be completely dependent on everyone else. He wanted to have a useful talent at his disposal. He was never going to be a heroic prince like David, or a Savior, like Emma; he even had to admit Hook was fairly badass when he started swashbuckling around, sword-fighting anything that could be sword-fought.

But Henry was smart.

He was like Regina. The two of them hadn't always gotten along, but there had always been a similarity there that ran deeper than the mother-and-son bond. You didn't have to be physically strong to have magic. Rumplestiltskin had been the village coward, weak and helpless, and now look at him.

The only thing that made him hesitate was Neal: he'd hated what magic did to his father, and even more when his father abandoned him for it. Henry didn't want Neal to think he was choosing magic over him, especially since he would never sacrifice his father for magic.

But he also couldn't stand being stuck in this helpless, useless state. Regina had offered to teach him magic once, and he'd turned her down. Why, he didn't know, it was possibly the stupidest thing he'd ever done, and he wanted to smack his ten-year-old self for it. But if she'd offered, that meant she didn't disapprove of it. And if she didn't disapprove, she wouldn't mind if he snuck into her vault…

Henry hadn't realized that at some point, he had switched directions, no longer pedaling toward the loft, but toward the vault. An idea had started forming in his head. He knew that somewhere in there was a book…A book of magic. The one that had reawakened Regina's powers after the first curse broke. And he knew how to make it work again: the well, where things once lost were returned.

He was going to revive the book.

And then, Henry Mills was going to learn magic.