Things escalated quickly. Nibs didn't know exactly what Pan meant by a new Neverland, but he knew it involved Henry's heart, so the heroes rushed to Regina's mansion, where Henry was just getting ready for bed. Before long, Gold had joined them, and as suspected, just as Henry pulled the covers up to his chin and closed his eyes, his bedroom window flew open, and Pan entered.
"Well, well," Pan said, hovering over the foot of Henry's bed and rubbing his hands together slowly.
Just as he reached his hand toward Henry's chest, the bedroom door burst open. Emma and Regina used their combined magic to momentarily stun Pan, while Rumplestiltskin opened Pandora's Box. Pan struggled, but was ultimately overpowered, and battle was soon over. Everyone headed home, and Henry went to bed, for real this time.
David, Snow, and Emma drove home and climbed the stairs to the loft. "That was surprisingly easy," Snow said pleasantly.
"Yeah," Emma said. "Maybe too easy."
"What do you mean?" David asked. "You don't think he's really locked in there?"
Emma bobbled her head in uncertainty. "I don't know," she said. "Something just didn't feel right…"
David pushed the door open and the family stepped inside. Emma's words were cut off by Ruby, who shushed them with a finger to her lips. They looked at the living room—Ruby sat on the couch, and little Emma lay asleep with her head on Ruby's lap.
"She was too worried to go to bed," Ruby whispered. "But eventually she just couldn't stay awake any longer."
Snow's mouth opened and let out a whispered "awww." David smiled and said, "I'll take her upstairs." Careful not to wake little Emma, he lifted her off of the couch and carried her to the stairs, shushing her when she stirred slightly.
The next morning, adult Emma helped little Emma to the table while David flipped pancakes high in the air, catching them haphazardly on a plate to make the girls laugh. "Come and eat!" he called out to Snow, who was finishing her hair and makeup in the bathroom.
"Are we waiting for Henry?" Snow asked as she came to the table.
Adult Emma shook her head. "No, I texted, but he said to eat without him. He said he ate at Regina's already."
"That's never kept him from pancakes before," David said with a chuckle, sitting down beside Snow.
Adult Emma didn't laugh. She frowned nervously. "Yeah, I know."
"I'm sure it's nothing," Snow said quickly. She glanced at little Emma as she said it—she didn't want the girl to think that somehow her presence was causing Henry to avoid the loft.
David's eyes bounced between the three women, observing the strange tension. He spoke up, attempting to change the subject. "So Em, what's happening at school today?"
Little Emma lifted her eyes to meet his. She looked almost surprised that someone was asking her, as though she hadn't expected to be put on the spot like this. She shrugged her shoulders and looked down again, picking at her pancakes slowly.
Under the table, Snow nudged little Emma's foot lightly with her own. "Words, please," she said softly, giving the girl a smile.
Little Emma took a breath. "I don't… remember," she said. She looked up at Snow sheepishly. "Sorry."
Snow shook her head, brushing it off. "Don't worry. We're learning about electricity," she told David and adult Emma. "We're making lemon batteries."
"Ooh, fun," adult Emma said.
"Nice," said David. "We are going to spend our morning finding the rest of the lost boys."
Adult Emma nodded. "Yep, time to clean up the last of Pan's mess. I'm going to pick up Henry after school, though. It's Wednesday."
"Oh, that's right," Snow said, cutting her pancakes on her plate. "Your park days. I'd almost forgotten about those."
"We need to get back to our sword practice," David said, excitedly remembering his own sessions with Henry at the park. "Tell him Grandpa says en garde," he added with a wink.
David, Snow, and adult Emma continued to chat over breakfast; little Emma sat quietly and gave one-word answers when one of the adults asked her a question. Before long, breakfast was over, and Snow and little Emma had headed off to school.
It was a long day for little Emma. She was doing much better physically than she had been the previous week, and all her injuries were healing well, but it was exhausting to maneuver herself through the elementary school on crutches, and she had little interest in making new friends or getting to know her classmates. When she'd first come to Storybrooke, Henry had been her only friend. Now she knew Henry was her… something… and she wasn't sure how to act around him yet. Wanting to avoid both Henry on the playground and Mary Margaret in the classroom, Emma took the third option that had become her habit—hiding in the bathroom. She sat on top of the toilet seat in the last stall and lightly picked at the lunch David had packed for her.
She heard voices in the hallway—lunch must be nearly over. Emma threw the bulk of her lunch in the garbage can in the corner and headed for the door.
She was surprised to find the hallway still empty. She paused just outside the bathroom door and waited. After a moment, she heard the voices again—they were coming from just around the corner.
"You're sure you can get in?" a boy's voice said.
Another voice scoffed. "Of course I can get in. She's an idiot who sees what she wants to believe."
Emma turned toward the voice, surprised. She knew that voice, but not that tone. That was Henry.
He spoke again. "It won't be long now, you'll see," he said. "This—all of this—will be ours."
Emma blinked with confusion. She remained silent and slowly backed into the bathroom again, hugging the wall. She heard the boys' footsteps turn the corner, and saw them walk past her hiding place—they didn't notice her. Henry was wearing his usual grey coat and scarf, and had his backpack slung over one shoulder. He was with a boy Emma didn't recognize, a boy who looked too old for elementary school. The two boys strode purposefully down the hallway, toward the front doors.
As they moved further away from her, Emma found herself emerging from the doorway once more, craning her neck to see Henry walking away. She leaned a little too far, and suddenly lost her balance, falling noisily to the tiled floor.
Henry and the other boy spun around quickly. "Who do we have here?" the other boy said, approaching Emma. "I think someone has been listening to conversations they shouldn't be," he said to Henry, feigning politeness.
Emma quickly rose to her feet. Her eyes flashed with suspicion. "Where are you going?" she asked.
Henry cocked his head to one side. "I don't believe that's any of your concern," he said coldly.
Emma held his gaze and didn't back down. "It is if you're planning something bad," she said.
"Go home, little girl," Henry said. His tone was icy and strange. He turned to the boy beside him and nodded; the boy stepped forward and kicked Emma's right crutch out from under her. She fell to the ground again, and heard Henry's low chuckle as the boys turned and walked out of the school doors.
Adult Emma walked into the loft and was immediately greeted by Mary Margaret. "Emma!" she said. "You're home early. I thought you were going to the park with Henry." Little Emma looked up from the table, where she was doing homework.
"Yeah, he said he wasn't feeling up to it," adult Emma said. Her forehead wrinkled, betraying her worry.
"I'm sure it's fine," Snow said, quick to assuage Emma's doubts. "He had a rough night last night. I'm sure he just needs rest."
"Yeah," adult Emma said, not sounding sure at all.
Snow glanced quickly over her shoulder toward little Emma at the table. The girl had turned back to her homework, facing away from the women near the door. "Come upstairs with me," Snow said quietly. "Just for a minute."
Emma followed Snow up the stairs and into little Emma's bedroom. "What is it?" she whispered, glancing toward the kitchen table once more before closing the bedroom door behind her.
Snow pointed toward the wall, then stood with her arms folded tightly across her stomach. "I was putting away laundry," she said, quickly and quietly. "And I noticed something, so I pulled the dresser away from the wall a little bit, and…" Snow's voice trailed off, and she tilted her head toward the wall.
Emma took a step closer. Just behind the wooden edge of the dresser was a line of tally marks—four vertical lines and a diagonal slash; neat sets of five scrawled into the wall with a pen. Emma knelt down and ran her fingers lightly over the marks. She exhaled. The practice was so familiar to her, and it felt like only yesterday she'd been doing the same thing to mark the passage of time.
"It's the number of days she's been here," Emma said, turning to look at Mary Margaret again. "It's what I always did at a new foster home."
Snow looked hurt. "I know," she said. "You told me about it in Neverland, remember?" She looked from her adult daughter to the marks on the wall and back again. "But Emma," she said, closing her eyes and pursing her lips before continuing, "this isn't another foster home. We're her family."
"I know that," Emma said. "I just…" she paused, choosing her words carefully. She wanted to explain, but she didn't want to hurt Mary Margaret, and she knew it was difficult for the woman to hear about Emma's childhood. "It's just a matter of habit for her, now. And she—I think she —" Emma trailed off again, then refocused and continued. "It's just going to take some time for her to completely believe that this is real." She winced a little, waiting to see how Mary Margaret reacted.
Snow nodded slowly, her eyes returning to the marks on the wall. "In Neverland, you said you counted until counting seemed pointless. You counted until you lost hope."
Emma nodded. "I counted until I got kicked by another family, or until I gave up hoping that someone was going to come save me or something."
"So she…" Snow began, running her finger over little Emma's marks on the wall once more. She studied them intensely, but didn't finish her statement.
Emma placed a hand on her mother's elbow. "She hopes she gets to stay." She offered a slight smile, trying to provide reassurance and comfort.
Snow forced a smile, then pulled her hand away from the wall, and smiled more genuinely. She turned to adult Emma. "And maybe one day she'll stop counting. Not because she's lost hope, but because she's conquered fear."
The two women returned downstairs, where little Emma was still working on her homework. Adult Emma got a glass of water and stood near the sink drinking it, and Snow leaned against the counter nearby.
"Do you want to come to the library with us later?" Snow asked casually.
Adult Emma shook her head, setting down her glass in the sink. "No, I need to get going. David's still out searching for lost boys, and I should help. And I'd like to check in on Henry too, before it gets late."
Concern flashed across Snow's face. "I'm sure he's fine," she said.
Adult Emma nodded and gave her mother a smile. She ruffled little Emma's hair as she passed on her way to the door. "See you, squirt," she said. Little Emma turned and gave adult Emma a serious look. "What is it?" adult Emma asked.
Little Emma's eyes flashed from adult Emma to Snow, who was in the downstairs bedroom and seemed to be occupied with something else. Adult Emma leaned closer to the girl and repeated herself. "What?"
Little Emma spoke in a whisper. "There's something wrong with Henry."
