The double doors of the PACU flew open, and the distinct sound of David Nolan's voice hit her ears.
"I'm sorry, Emma. I know you wanted your space, but Regina left town. She's got Hen…ry. What the hell is going on here?"
Emma jerked her head over her shoulder, nearly giving herself whiplash.
"Fucking hell," muttered Hook, his hand flying to cover his dick.
Her jaw dropped, wordless noise coming out of her mouth, and those awful, fucking pants falling from her slackened grip.
She stood up and faced David while Hook situated himself back onto the surgical bed and threw a sheet over his lap. The hospital pants slid from his ankles into a heap on the floor.
"Henry's gone?" She marched towards David and maybe passed him. He grabbed her arm, keeping her close. "I have to get him. My car. I'll have to take the cruiser. Maybe Graham can help me. The curse is broken—"
"Emma," David said, his tone gentle. "He's missing."
She looked up at him. Her father, and her face crumpled. Her knees buckled, and she swayed. David went to grab her, but she held up her arms and righted herself, shaking her head.
"H-He wasn't feeling well. Did anyone try his apartment?" she asked.
"Everyone has. With everything going on, the people need his help. Ruby's going to try and track him soon. She's—"
"A wolf. I know." Emma recalled that information from Henry's book.
"She, Granny, and Mary Margaret are at townhall trying to gather people with the dwarves help. That's another thing, Emma. They found out if anyone leaves town, they revert back to their cursed memories."
Emma nodded, half-hearing him. Henry. She needed to get the cruiser and track down Henry.
"Most of them want to leave anyway. The ones that do want to stay want to burn the town to the ground."
"Why?"
"Dr. Whale led a lynch party to Regina's mansion. They weren't able to cross the property line. They found out if you breech it, you get thrown across the street. She must've cast a protection spell on the estate before leaving, but they're out for blood. They'll settle for the town she created. Your mother and I, we're doing what we can, but we can only placate the ones who want be. We can do order, but with Graham not around, someone needs to step up and handle the law aspect of it."
She tried to wrench away out of David's stronghold. "I have to find Henry—"
"You will," he said, resolute. "And when you get him back, I want a relationship with him, Emma. I want to love him and spoil him rotten—"
"So is this Henry's father?" asked Hook, gesturing to David.
Emma swiveled her head towards him, disgusted alarm written on her face.
David's pinned a murderous glare on him, clearing remembering the situation he walked into. Emma on her knees in front of a naked man.
"I'm her father." He released Emma's arms and stalked towards him. "Who the hell are you?"
"Father?"
"I was just helping him get dressed, David. It wasn't what it looked like," she said, quickening her steps to put herself between both men.
"Who are you?" asked David over his daughter's shoulder, his eyes narrowing. "Have we met?"
"This is…Killian," Emma replied, hesitant.
"I don't believe we've had the pleasure," said Hook, offering his hand.
Emma looked over her shoulder at him like he'd gone insane, and David made no move to accept a handshake, so he receded his offer.
Which was probably for the best.
Hook would lose his remaining hand and his life if His Royal Highness Prince David only knew the wicked deeds he'd done against his little princess.
Back in the Enchanted Forest, Hook would've been hanged or tied to a stake and made a pin cushion from Queen Snow White's firing squad of sharpshooting archers. Hell, she might've just forgone pomp and circumstance and killed him herself.
He had spent time among the remnants of her people before coming here, and he heard stories about the Queen Snow White and her Prince Consort David who'd taken back the kingdom from the Evil Queen. The folk in the community spoke of how Snow White lived a life of banditry for years in the woods, and archery had been key to her survival.
It had reminded him of a young woman he knew who also took up a bow and arrow to survive.
"Emma, I know things are different here," David started, "But you are still a princess—"
"Oh, my God, really?"
"It's not appropriate—"
"Killian and I aren't inappropriate with each other. He can't dress himself. He's recovering from surgery and needs help. Whale's gone and so is the rest of the staff—"
"I'll help him."
She groaned and glanced behind her at Hook who shot her a pleading look, swaying.
Don't leave me with your father, Swan, he seemed to beg.
"You okay?"
He shook his head, stiff and fast, his mouth pinching.
"Here it comes," she muttered. She grabbed a Pepto-colored container and thrust it underneath Hook's chin.
Regina exited off the 295 and pulled into the parking lot of the Homewood Suites. Clouds had rolled in, cutting her daylight hours shorter than she'd like. She'd been hoping to make it to New Hampshire, but she was exhausted, and Henry was hangry as hell. He had turned his nose up at the carrot sticks and celery she picked out in Belfast but did down the Fruitable juice box, apple slices, and a few peanuts from the bag of trail mix.
After checking into their room, Henry wasted no time diving into his suitcase and rummaging until he found his Iron Man swim set. Swimming at hotel pools may've not been top priority for Regina when considering what could go into their travel bags and what had to stay behind, but she was a mother and not an idiot. Henry would've had another meltdown if she hadn't been prepared for him to swim.
"You need to eat first," she said.
"Pizza!" Henry dramatically threw himself onto one of the beds. He lifted his shirt, exposing his belly just enough to squeeze the baby-pudge flesh around his belly button. "Feed me pizza, Mean Mommy," he demanded in what he probably thought was a scary, monstrous voice.
"Henry Daniel Mills, I have had enough of the Mean Mommy business from you. If you don't start behaving yourself and showing a little gratitude and respect towards me, I will be Mean Mommy. There will be no swimming and no pizza. There will only be your workbook from school and meals of my choosing. I love you, and it hurts me when you call me that."
Her son rolled onto his side, pouting. He propped his head with his hand. "I love you, too. If I'm good, can we go back to Storybrooke?"
"I told you. Mommy needs a vacation."
"Are we going to Disney World?"
"I said a vacation. Not hell."
"You swore!" He grinned wickedly. He opened his tiny hand to her. "Pay up, Mother."
Regina balled up her fists, making a face as she turned away from Henry to rifle through her purse. Plucking a one-dollar bill from it, she handed it to her son who cackled in self-satisfaction.
He was so spoiled.
She loved him so much.
She crawled onto the bed next to him, bringing him in for a cuddle. He resisted at first, but once she started caressing his arm, he was putty in her arms.
"I'll tell you tomorrow where we're going," she murmured, thinking of the New York travel brochure she plucked from the display at the hotel entrance.
Distance-wise, it wasn't far enough away from Storybrooke for Regina's liking, but it'd be a decent place to settle for a short while until she decided on where to go next and before Emma caught wind of their location.
That woman would come for Henry. Regina didn't doubt it. Emma may've made an impressive living as a bail bondsperson, but Regina was smart enough to buy them a little time. Her and her son's entire journey would be paid in cash. No credit card or check transactions.
The cash that Regina brought had been accounted for back in Storybrooke. It was meant for a contractor who'd be building a new jungle gym at the park, so the serial numbers were documented back in her office. With any luck, no one would notice, but Regina had never been lucky. Everything she accomplished in life, she had to make happen. Eventually, Swan or someone else would catch the missing money and start tracking them. That someone would probably be Gold. He'd been the one to okay the jungle gym and hire the contractor in the first place.
Gold would be looking for her. Like herself, he wasn't the forgiving and forgetting type. He'd manipulate Swan into helping him track her and Henry down.
However, if Gold managed to find her and come for her in person, they'd be on equal ground. Neither had magic, and in fact, the man was a cripple and held no sway in this world. She could easily overpower him with a dainty kick to his cane from her Chanel pump.
Assuming he would approach her unarmed which he wouldn't. He may be a coward, but he wasn't a fool.
Henry roused her from her worrisome musings by scooching away from her. "I'm hungry, Mama. When's the pizza going to be here?"
After phoning a local pizzeria who gave her an ETA of an hour, she and Henry went down to the pool. Her nose turned up at seeing the overstuffed jacuzzi. Flabby mothers and beer-bellied dads crowded the water, and she sneered at their common, middle-class selves. Strutting by them in her Norma Kamali suit and a black Hampton Eric Javits hat—despite the pool being indoors. Her feet were bare almost bare, save for her white Kate Spade flip-flops, but she'd just gotten a mani-pedi done a week ago. Her maroon nails glistened, and there wasn't a cuticle or callous to be seen.
Regina found a chair to layout upon as Henry wasted no time throwing himself into the shallow end of the pool. The children of the jacuzzi-hogs and he became quick playmates. One of them a chubby girl, who wore a pink one piece with Belle in her signature yellow gown from Beauty and Beast, seemed to gravitate towards Henry.
"I like your swimsuit," he said, smiling.
"Thanks. I like yours, too."
The girl dunked and flipped in the water, emerging with a wet sheet of brown hair over her face. She flipped it back, causing a fold to form at the crown of her head.
"Look, I'm George Washington's wife," she said.
Regina opened her Vogue magazine she purchased back in Belfast. The black dress Rooney Mara sported on the cover was a must-have, and Regina planned to hit every designer shop in Manhattan to find it. She had lost everything but Henry. Regina was going to treat herself, and she wasn't going to feel bad about it.
Henry climbed out of the pool, only to cannonball back in, a bit of water splashing on her legs. When he emerged, he laughed and so did the fat girl.
No, Regina wasn't going to feel bad about anything.
Emma crept into the PACU; the lights dimmed. She breathed a sigh of relief when making out Hook's sleeping figure on his bed. Good. He hadn't made a run for it after she left him to handle some of those issues David brought up earlier.
Dr. Whale and the OR team followed behind her, their chins lifted and ready to get back to work. David and Mary Margaret had done well in stirring the majority of the townspeople into staying in Storybrooke and returning to their professions or grasping for new opportunities within the town if they should want.
Dr. Hopper had been among those in the crowd who had wanted to leave but was one of the first to side with David and Mary Margaret about staying. After the town meeting adjourned, Emma had cornered him, wanting to know one thing before she planned her next move.
Would Regina hurt Henry on purpose?
Even with both sets of memories accounted for, Hopper shook his head. "Regina would die for him. She waited two years for a child, and when she got Henry…The patience she had developed changed her. Not a lot by any stretch of the imagination but enough that when she was able to bring that baby home, she loved him that much more."
With the man's answer, Emma had allowed herself to slightly uncoil. She would track down Henry and soon, but truthfully, he was safer out there without magic and without Gold. For now, she had a sheriff to find and a town to sort out. There were still a few renegades gaming to destroy Storybrooke. During the meeting, the hardware store had been broken into. Highly flammable chemicals, power tools, sledgehammers, and several blow torches were stolen.
And let's not forget all the crimes committed once the curse broke. Looting, vandalism, grand larceny, grand theft auto, public intoxication, driving under the influence, indecent exposure, attempted murder, assault, and even a few rape cases. David was right. There needed to be order, but most importantly, there needed to be law. Broken curse or not, charges would be brought against those who reaped harm and destruction in the last twelve hours.
"What's your plan for him?" she asked Whale, tilting her head at Hook.
"I'll have transport move him to a patient room." He crooked his fingers at two people in gray scrubs and then pointed at Hook. "Find a room for him on the floor."
"On it, Dr. Whale," one of them said.
"If you could have the staff keep a close eye on him and keep me posted on his recovery. Make sure he stays put. When his strength starts returning, let me know. I'll cuff him to his bed."
Whale arched a blond brow. "Is he a criminal, Deputy Swan?"
"Oh, you have no idea."
His nod was slow. "I see. Am I to assume it was you who shot him?"
"You could say that."
"Good shot. Clean exit wound. Hit nothing of importance. A bit of blood-loss, but he'll heal nicely."
Emma checked her watch. "I've got to get to the ER and take a few statements. I need you to order three rape kits and three Plan B pills. If you could page Dr. Hopper and have him on standby, that would be great." Whale paled at her words. "And...I'll expect they'll prefer to be examined by a woman if you got someone."
Whale cleared his throat, dipping his chin. "Of course."
She watched the two transporters wheel Hook out of the room. So much for her grand plan of using him to get Henry out of Regina's house. He was useless to her, and a dark part of her imagined herself telling Gold he was here.
But she wouldn't.
Gold would kill him.
And if anyone was going to kill Hook, it was going to be her.
Two days later, he went missing during shift change.
Three weeks later...
Breathing deeply, Emma shifted underneath her comforter and peeled open one eye.
Oh, God, not again.
The sounds of a headboard thumping into a wall, and a bed squeaking travelled from the upstairs floorboard into Emma's apartment.
"Yes, David! Right there! Harder!"
Emma flinched when hearing something heavy—perhaps a nightstand—hit the floor.
"I'm coming!" she heard David announce.
Nope!
Emma flung herself out of bed, and hurriedly shoved in her earbuds, shooting her ceiling a horrified stare.
Her parents needed to move. Or she did. But probably them. There were other people in the complex and if Emma could hear them, so could they. It was only a matter of time, someone was going to file a noise complaint against them.
The time on her phone read 4:36. She had to be at the station by seven. There was time to try and go back to sleep, but she got a good five hours which was more than she'd gotten in a long time.
Keeping her earbuds in, she flipped on the lights and changed into some exercise leggings, sports bra, and exercise jacket. She shimmied her feet into her running shoes, tied her hair up into a ponytail, and grabbed her water bottle before heading out the door.
Since Neverland, running had been something Emma had fallen in and out love with. She first took it up when she returned to high school in Boston, feeling antsy and anxious and unused to just walking. She joined the cross-country team and then was recruited into the upper echelon of track and field. By that point, she was halfway through her senior year. Her coached talked of scholarships which Emma had mixed feelings about at the time. It was when he offhandedly commented how she ran like someone was chasing her that she stopped. She'd been on her third lap, and he said those words while she passed by. When they hit her ears, she slowed and then vacated the track. In the locker room, she retired her running shoes and didn't put on another pair for three years.
Coach Jenkins had been right, and it had struck a chord in her. Made her realize she didn't need to run anymore. She didn't want to run anymore. For that brief moment in time, all was okay, and she could see a future for herself, and it wasn't going to be running circles in college.
After she was released from jail, the urge to run again erupted inside her. Tying a pair of second-hand Nikes to her feet, she resumed in fleeing like someone was chasing her down to kill her.
Again, she stopped after a few years when she got a gym membership in Boston and found she liked cross-training. At the Storybrooke community center, there was a humble workout center with thirty-year old weight-lifting and cardio equipment, a gymnasium, and a pool.
For the fourth time that week, Emma found herself sprinting around the town. Like normal, she swung by the harbor first, searching for Hook's ship which was still nowhere to be seen. From there, her feet scaled the perimeter of the town. When she came upon the graveyard, she decided to cut through the forest towards the cabin she and August crashed in when they first arrived to Storybrooke. Since she last saw him at the hospital, he'd been considered 'missing', too. His father Marco had put up flyers around town to help find him.
Emma wasn't ready to forgive August just yet. What he had done to her and Neal wasn't fair, but as the weeks dragged on and Marco becoming increasingly discouraged and heartbroken, she started to sorta, kinda become open to the idea of finding him. Just so his poor, miserable father could find closure.
Coming up on a thick, trunked tree, she got a cramp in her leg. She slowed her pace and rested a hand against the cold, damp bark. A crisp, unique scent filled her nostrils, letting her know it might snow again soon which meant busting out more road salt from the station's storage before the big bash at Granny's that evening.
Crime may've slowly tampered from that first week after the curse broke; the weather had not. Each storm which passed over Storybrooke, diminished Emma's hope at finding Graham alive. The only reason she believed he might still be out there was because of his huntsman background from the Enchanted Forest, but Emma knew if she hadn't found any trace of him by the New Year, her status as acting sheriff would dissolve. She'd be the real deal unless someone wanted to step up and run for the position. Elections weren't really a thing in Storybrooke and most certainly not in the Enchanted Forest, and what would've been election week was actually Post-Curse Chaos Week. The first week of December—so in, like, two seconds—would be election week.
With Regina gone, an over abundance of people felt they needed to take control of their new lives. By doing so meant running for mayor. Banners, flyers, and signs of various townsfolk asking the people of Storybrooke to vote for them for office had popped up all over town.
At first, anyway.
Once most of the candidates found out they'd be dealing with the Dark One on a regular basis, they backed out or decided running for something less ambitious like the fire chief or the District Attorney.
Emma grabbed her ankle, stretching the cramp from her leg and letting out a sigh. Her eyes closed. She rocked her head back and forth, working out the kinks at the base of her neck. She lowered her leg and went to stretch the other when a large, male body came up behind her and clamped a hand over her mouth, his other hand bringing a hunting knife close to her eyes so she could see the gleaming blade in the dark. Suddenly, it disappeared. Her attacker's hold over her mouth strengthened, she felt a quick, sharp pain from her inner knee upper thigh.
Her scream was muffled and without ceremony, she was lifted even higher and thrown to the ground like she weighed nothing. The wind was knocked out of her, and her mid-back collided with a rock. She managed to snake her hand beneath herself and grab it, but her attacker disarmed her quickly. He knelt over her, knife to her throat. Her eyes blinked to adjust to what she was seeing, and the man wore a black hoodie and a…freaking Mickey Mouse mask.
It was him. It was the guy those three women described as their rapist. Emma hadn't found the motherfucker yet.
He found her.
The blade of his knife pressed into the flesh of her neck. She could feel her pulse quicken against the sharpened metal. He removed it, only to backhand her hard enough she almost lost consciousness. It was a shady, cowardly tactic to disorient her, and it worked. His grip seized her neck, slowing her air supply. His other hand, now free of the knife, came to the stretchy waist of her leggings and tugged down.
Emma tried kicking her legs, but he was on top of her and outweighed her by a hundred pounds, if not more.
"If it's you," he started. She didn't recognize the voice. "Maybe he'll accept me."
When rough, unrelenting fingers curled into the side of her underwear at her hip. Rage, deep and volatile, erupted inside her. Somehow, she survived the foster system, Neverland, jail, homelessness, and her job without being raped. It hadn't been because she was resourceful and slippery or tough. She'd been damned lucky, and Emma refused to let the streak end there in the woods of Storybrooke.
Steeling herself, she clenched her teeth and shoved at the man's chest with all the strength she had inside herself. A blinding white light exploded, molten and hot, from the palms of her hands. Her assailant flew backwards at least fifty feet and bodily connected with a sturdy, low-hanging tree branch. He crumpled to the ground in a heap, unmoving.
Emma didn't call David right away because he would lose his shit. She opted to process the suspect first. Fingerprinted, mugshots, and jail cell. To get them both there without having to trek through the foliage and streets of Storybrooke, she called Ruby for a favor who brought over the police cruiser parked at Emma's apartment.
"A Mickey Mouse mask?" Ruby made a face at the man behind bars, who was awake and leering at her and Emma from his cot. "What a fucking creep."
"Do you know anything about him?" Emma asked. "The fingerprint scan identified him as twenty-four-year-old Thomas Canterbury. Graham had booked him a couple of years ago for vandalizing the district attorney Albert Spencer's car—"
"King George," Ruby interjected bitterly. Emma sympathized, but at least that lunatic was locked away for the rest of his life for what he'd done to her and his victims.
"There could be a connection. He might supply some information about Canterbury. If needs be, I'll pull His Royal Jackass in for questioning."
Ruby shrugged one shoulder. "Wish I had more. Canterbury would come into Granny's here and there. I'd see him at the Rabbit Hole sometimes drinking and playing pool. He and his girlfriend kept to themselves."
"He has a girlfriend?"
The brunette pressed her lips together grimly. "Elena Alexander."
The name rang a bell, but not for a good reason. Emma drifted her gaze to the corkboard where the list of missing persons was. There were still four on the list, and she was number three: Graham Humbert, August Wayne Booth, Elena Alexander, and John Doe.
John Doe being Hook was neither here nor there. He got reported missing by the hospital, and to keep face, Emma had to add him to the list.
Which reminded her. She needed to send those saliva swabs off to the pathologist at the hospital.
"Hey, you might want to…" Ruby gestured to Emma's wound on her leg. "Sorry, I smelt it."
Emma gnawed on her lip, considering Ruby. Snow White's best friend from the Enchanted Forest. Who was also a wolf.
Kinda hard core, right?
Emma retrieved her first aid kit from her bottom drawer. "Hey, let me pick your brain on something."
"Sure thing." Ruby sat down on a rolling stool, legs spread and hunched forward.
"This Canterbury. When he was attacking me, he said 'if it's you, maybe he'll accept me.' What do you think that meant? I mean, I'm going to interrogate him soon, and maybe he'll say..."
"I don't know. It could have something to do with who he was back in the Enchanted Forest."
"Yeah, maybe." Emma pursed her lips. "Um…also. When I told you that I fought him off, I didn't…really explain how." She lifted her hands. "This white light shot out of me, and it threw him."
Ruby's jaw dropped, amazement twinkling in her blue eyes. "That's awesome! Emma, you have magic!"
From the Jolly Roger's deck, Killian lengthened his telescope and watched for the woman called Belle. Since his escape from that blasted infirmary, he'd been laying low, mostly on the ship. Gathering intel and familiarizing himself with the town and with some of the townsfolk's habits. Routines.
Before the curse broke, everyone in town likely had their entire life perfectly scheduled. From when they woke up to when they retired to their homes. Neverland was like that sometimes for his crew and even for the Lost Boys.
In Storybrooke's current state, only a few operated like clockwork and lucky for Hook, Belle was one of them.
Unlucky for Hook, Swan wasn't. Bloody hell, he hardly ever managed a glimpse of her. She flailed all over town with no direction whatsoever. There were two things consistent about. The first started this last week when she, all of sudden, started running for gods know why, but at different hours of the day. Could be right at dawn or near twilight. When she began her jaunts, she always darted to the harbor first.
She was looking for him and had been since he gave the healers and nursemaids the slip. Cora's cloaking magic still held, and the ship was still invisible to the town.
While Swan unknowingly ran past his ship, she wore the tightest of trousers he'd ever seen on a person. They were black and sported a strip of sheer material from ankle to outer-mid thigh. The material molded to her toned legs like a second skin, outlining every curve and deliciously displaying that pert derriere.
He rose with the sun that morning and observed from a distance with his telescope. She'd been with a striking brunette, the she-wolf who'd recently been framed for some recent murders. She and Swan escorted a large, burly young man into the police station.
The scene he saw, though unfocused, hadn't blurred the bruised cheek, cut lip, and red marks on Emma's neck. Her gait off
Hook's jaw ticked thinking about her injuries. He lowered his telescope away from the clocktower for a moment, recalling the bound man's face and committing it to memory.
Around ten o' clock, Hook conceded Belle wouldn't be at the clock tower. Alas, he gathered the day was a holiday in the realm. Even Granny's Diner was closed but would open in the evening for a celebration gathering of sorts. Flyers promising a grand turkey dinner were posted all over the town and if Hook were a weaker man, he'd attempt to join in on the feast and the expected liberal libations. Since he left the hospital, he's only had fish, sea biscuits, pickled fruit, water, and rum to keep him warm.
He'd be recognized by Swan, surely. Hook had watched enough of her to know she frequented Granny's twice a day and was on good terms with the older woman and her granddaughter. If she weren't occupied with legal matter, Swan most certainly would attend the dinner.
Frequenting Granny's was the one other consistency of hers. Between six in the morning and noon, she'd go in for coffee. Her second trip was between seven and ten for food and or confectionaries. Always, though, there were confectionaries. It was something he hadn't got to entirely see in Neverland.
His princess liked dessert.
Hook took a swig of rum, returning to his cabin, kicking himself in referring again to her as his princess for the umpteenth time since they parted ways at the hospital. Fuck, if he didn't want to bed her all the same. Hold her. Have her for his own. He'd lay her now womanly, naked form on his sheets, her glorious mane of hair fanned out, and he'd sheath himself inside her wet quim. He'd thrust into her, hit all those sensitive places inside her. He yearned to watch her, as the woman she became, come undone for him. He thirsted to taste her nectar again, her fuller thighs haloing his head as his tongue and hand brought her to unfathomable heights of pleasure.
Swan. Emma. She wouldn't deem him a worthy lover if she were to discover his plan. She held no love for The Crocodile, but her brief interactions with Belle were friendly. Swan held no grudge against the woman, but like everyone else in Storybrooke, privately believed her a hopeless fool.
Sitting down in his chair, Hook palmed himself through his trousers, debating whether he should give himself release. He was feeling good today. The cold permeated a deep ache in his healing shoulder, but it wasn't anything a little rum wouldn't solve. He'd try more exercises today and press himself harder than the day prior. Then he'd continue familiarizing himself with this realm by reading through the books he pilfered from the library a week ago when Belle had taken her fifteen-minute break at Granny's. Hook also possessed glossy manuscripts called magazines he swiped from one of the town's shops yesterday.
Reading and studying would occupy him for a few hours. After that, he'd sharpen his second hook. He'd been unable to find his other one. He'd sharpen and polish until nightfall and with most residence at Granny's or at home, he'd walk the darkened streets of Storybrooke unnoticed if all fell into place. Just because Belle hadn't gone into work, needn't mean the day or night be wasted. Opportunities for bloodshed presented themselves equally, if not more so, after dusk.
With his hand comfortably tucked into Regina's, Henry and his mother watched the Macy's Day Parade from 6th Avenue. In his free hand, he had a Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and cinnamon. It was still really hot, so he hadn't been able to drink it yet. He lifted up on his tiptoes, trying to get a better view of the floats.
"I can't see, Mom," he whined to Regina. "I want to see the Spider-Man one."
His mom lifted and slung him around her waist, but he still couldn't get a good look at the Spider-Man balloon. Too many tall people, jeez. He craned his neck uselessly.
"Ma'am, if you don't mind," spoke a brown-haired young man to Regina. He wore a nice black coat, scarf, and gray pants. "I can put him on my shoulders. The Spider-Man float is the coolest."
Regina gave him a skeptical once-over. As far as appearance, the man seemed harmless. A bit scruffy, but it suited his facial features.
"Mom, please?" her son asked. He beamed over at the stranger. "Hi, I'm Henry."
The man offered a gloved hand to her son, grinning. "Nice to meet you, little dude. I'm Neal. This is my girlfriend Tamara."
A pretty, dark skinned woman with an infectious, wide smile and slanted eyes leaned forward into view, and Regina relaxed.
"This is my mom. Her name's Regina." He smiled mischievously at his mom. "Okay, we're not strangers now. Will you let him now, please?"
Her eyes rolled, and she clicked her tongue. "Fine."
The man lifted her son up high, letting his legs drape over his shoulders. One of her hands slipped into the pocket of her coat, gripping the taser she purchased two weeks ago. If this man tried any funny business with her son, she'd be going for the balls.
"Wow!" Henry pointed to the Spider-Man balloon.
"I see you like cinnamon on your hot chocolate," said Neal. "I knew someone who did, too. Man, that was her poison. She couldn't get enough of it. You got good taste, Henry."
"I know." With one hand comfortably slung around Neal's forehead for balance, Henry carefully tested his beverage as to not spill. He licked his lips free of whipped cream. Perfect. His hot chocolate had cooled enough to drink.
To Be Continued...
A/N: I know it's unlike Emma to not go after Henry, so I tried my best to giver her reasons why she wouldn't just up and leave Storybrooke to go chase after him.
Neal's back and since I'm not a basher of characters, I have plans for him that don't include me writing him like he's awful, foolish butthead. Most OUAT characters are dear to me for my own reasons, and Neal is no exception. I fee the creators/writers of the show got rid of him just so they could launch Captain Swan without too much of a hitch. In my opinion, he deserved a second chance like so many other villainized characters got.
Anyway, I hope the chapter was enjoyable to you, readers. Comment, if you will. I do enjoy feedback. :)
