Henry Mills put his head down and sprinted towards the nearest escape. It was a fire escape, but people used it all the time (much to the head teacher's begrudgement). Speeding down the corridor, he reached the door, pushed his full weight into it and it popped open like a cork from a bottle. And then he heard a sound that made his blood run cold.
The fire alarm. Shit.
A hand grabbed the ruff of his shirt (making sure to also grab a small amount of skin and a few hairs), yanking him backwards. Henry hissed.
"What the hell are you doing, dickwad?" Jimmy Melon grunted lazily. He was a stereotypical jock: tall, well-built, with no future except for washing dishes at a road-side diner and maybe a one-time cover picture on some skanky pop magazine. Henry frowned at himself, wondering when he had become so cynical. Perhaps since he'd become acquainted with Jimmy.
Jimmy was a year older than Henry and had made it his mission to make Henry's life hell since fifth grade, when Emma had broken the curse. He couldn't know for sure, but Henry had heard stories that Jimmy got on a lot better with his adoptive 'cursed' family than with his real one and the transition back to normality had been more of a downward spiral.
Henry turned to face Jimmy, turning scarlet with anger. The fire alarm blazed in his ears.
"I was running away from your ugly face," he retorted before he could stop himself.
And that's how he ended up in the principal's office.
"So, I heard you pulled the fire alarm, Mr Mills?" Mrs Heathcoat, the principal, sighed.
Henry shook his head sheepishly.
"It was an accident, Miss," he started. "I tried to leave out of the fire escape – the one that is usually disconnected…" he trailed off. Mrs Heathcoat sighed again. Henry knew she was fond of him, but that didn't change the fact that he always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"And, Jimmy?" This time her tone was harsher. She looked at the other boy over her glasses.
"Henry punched me!" he hissed, flailing his arms, before deftly cradling his spotless nose.
It was true, Henry had tried to punch Jimmy. But Jimmy had dodged him before any real damage could be done. Henry on the other hand, was pretty sure he had a broken collar bone; Jimmy had one hell of a right hook.
"I'll have to call your parents," the teacher grumbled, turning slightly pale as she glanced in Henry's direction. Henry wondered which of his moms was more intimidating, the Saviour, or the Evil Queen… It was definitely a tough one. The principal must have caught the smug look on Henry's face, because she raised an eyebrow. "And it'll be detention for both of you. I don't tolerate violence in this school."
The boys both groaned and were dismissed. Henry made a particular effort to catch Jimmy's eye as they left the room, winking surreptitiously. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mrs Heathcoat's eyes twinkle, and wondered whether she had caught that too.
Henry was back late from school, but Regina was too distracted by his arrival to pay it much attention.
"Henry!" she grinned, running up to the door as though she were the minor. Her heels clonked on the ground heavily.
Henry, who was cradling his arm slightly, looked up at her with distracted eyes.
"You seem happy," he grumbled, kicking his shoes off aggressively.
"You… don't." The smile fell off her face immediately. "Henry, what happened?"
"It's nothing," he growled, refusing to look her in the eye. "I just… hate it here!" He flew up the stairs, covering his face to hide the embarrassed tears that were now streaming down in floods.
"Henry," Regina cooed, her heart sinking like a stone. Every other problem vanished when Henry was upset. She followed him up the stairs cautiously to find him perched on the edge of his bed. "Please tell me what happened, honey. Whatever it is, I promise I won't be angry."
Henry interlaced his hands. He looked up at his mom and then back down again.
"I got detention… and you or Emma has to go in for a school meeting."
"What? Why?" Regina gasped. Henry never got into trouble – he just wasn't that kind of kid.
"I… I got into a fight with one of the kids at school…" He glanced at her sheepishly. She could've sworn there was the faint outline of a smile on his face. "And I accidentally pulled the fire alarm."
Regina raised her eyebrows at him, but wasn't fooling anyone. It was the funniest thing she'd heard all day. Although, she wasn't pleased about the fight.
"Who's the boy you got into a fight with? Was he giving you trouble?" Regina could tell he was appreciative of the fact that she automatically took his side.
"He's called Jimmy Melon–" Henry started. Regina cut him off with a snort and Henry looked up at her cheekily. "Mom, you can't laugh at his name," he said, this time breaking out into a full smile. "You gave it to him!" Regina clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to cover up the cackles.
"I had so much fun coming up with those names," she snorted, remembering how she'd whispered each one into a huge cauldron, trying not to laugh and ruin the spell. She grinned and Henry rolled his eyes, but at least he was cheerier. "Sorry, sorry! Go on."
"Short version is: he doesn't like me very much," Henry sighed.
Regina looked at the ground guiltily. "Is it because of me?"
"Actually, no." Henry pulled a face. "He doesn't like my other mom, because she broke the curse. And he doesn't like me because I helped her."
At the mention of Emma, Regina fidgeted awkwardly. Her heart sunk a bit lower, knowing Henry would have given something away by now had he been awake.
"How long has he been bullying you?" Regina asked casually.
"Since fifth grade–" Henry stopped himself, closing his eyes slightly. He had fallen into the trap and he knew it. "Please don't say anything, Mom. No good will come of it. It'll probably just make things worse."
Regina nodded – she understood. Kids would be kids, but it didn't change the fact that she wanted to rip Jimmy Melon's throat out.
Emma was thinking about Regina until the moment she got into work. The way the tears had puddled in her collar bone. The oath she had made to 'break the curse', whatever that meant. Maybe all that time alone had knocked something loose… but who was Emma kidding? Regina had been mad the second she set about burning villages and poisoning apples. So, a few tears and a fake oath shouldn't be as surprising as they were… but Emma knew when people were lying. And Regina at least thought she was telling the truth.
Pulling up outside a sodden old barn, Emma jumped out of the car. She took long strides towards Red, her assistant, who had positioned herself in an unknowingly sexy pose, staring up at the rotting slant of panels, which seemed as though they could collapse on her at any moment. She looked uneasy.
Rain drizzled so thinly it could have been mist and an ominous sky of storm clouds loomed overhead like a warning.
"So, what's the story?" Emma asked, stony faced. She had come to expect very little from these call-outs, but that didn't mean there couldn't be trouble.
"It was…" Red shook her head, preparing herself. "A little boy called it in. He said… he said there was a demon in the barn."
A frown flickered across Emma's face faster than a shadow on the highway. "A demon? Have you gone in?"
"No," Red said quickly. "I thought… it was better to wait for you this time." The agitation was clear in her voice. Emma couldn't help but catch it. A bad feeling stabbed in her gut and for some reason the first person she thought about was Regina, standing at the door with Henry, waiting for her to come home. Emma shook the thought away. Ridiculous. She had just been thinking too much.
"Come on then." She smiled at Red reassuringly, before taking off towards the barn. The door approached faster than Emma would have wished. It creaked open, slowly. They crept into the darkness, their feet shuffling on the thin layer of straw that covered the ground.
A gust of wind threw the door shut behind them; they spun, shocked. Hinges complained irritably as the door rattled and shook. And then it was back to the darkness. Emma grappled for the torch at her belt, but couldn't reach it before–
Emma whirled towards the sound of the scream.
"Red?" she exclaimed, blind.
There was a pause and then Red let out a small sob. Emma prodded at the tube of metal between her fingers, exhaling slowly as she found Red in the torchlight's thin beam. Red was pointing at something. Something mangled and bloody, that's head had been ripped clean off and now lay metres away from its counterpart. Eyes still open.
Dark, thick blood dried into the hay, while the irrefutable smell of death hung around them, stronger than perfume. She stared at it for a second, listening to Red's sobs. And then, taking Red by the arm, she led them both out of the barn.
A new day.
Try not to get wedgied. Try not to get punched in the face.
Henry held his chin up, forcing himself to act as though nothing was wrong; as though he wasn't terrified about going back into school. He strolled the halls quickly, but not too quickly, looking around as he did so to make sure there was no danger.
"The wraith was less scary than this," he muttered under his breath, realising his own wit was making him smile for no reason. If nothing else he had been blessed with the bettering ability of being able to cheer himself up. Rounding a corner, Henry bumped into the one person he was desperately trying to avoid: Jimmy. And to make matters worse, he was surrounded by an entire pack of his ugly (but actually irritatingly attractive) jock friends. The five other boys and Jimmy himself were all kitted out in Storybrooke 'Banshees' basketball sweaters. How much more unremarkable could you get? Henry thought with a minor scowl. Just like in a book– oh, wait. Henry smiled to himself again; this time Jimmy noticed. His deep-cut eyes narrowed on him as he approached, like a cheetah locking in on its prey. Jimmy opened his mouth to say something but then changed his mind, nodding at Henry amicably.
"What, cat-got-your-tongue?" Henry frowned, not quite knowing why he was picking a fight when he had got off so easy. The other basketball players stopped their conversations to stare at him. But still, Jimmy said nothing. Suddenly Henry felt very naked. He looked down just to check that he wasn't naked. Nope. Clothes were all there. One of the players strutted up to him, held out a finger and poked him in the chest. Henry swayed backwards slightly from the force of it. Wow, basketball players really did have strong hands.
Just as Jock Bigfinger (as Henry had dubbed him) was about to say something, Jimmy tapped his friend on the shoulder and shook his head. He opened his mouth to explain, and that's the only reason Henry was able to see what he desperately wished he could unsee. That there was nothing there; just a gaping hole where Jimmy's tongue should have been.