NOTES: This next section is so HUGE, so much happens, that I have to split it up into several , you;re going to see a series of chapters titled "The Red Vow Renewal: Part (#, letter)..." There are going to be multiple perspectives, and I may have to split one part into two parts because of the multiple character perspectives. So like, the first section is Part 1 with Neal, Emma, and Henry, and next chapter is Part 1 with Hook, Regina, and Belle. Also, keep in mind, this is a few weeks ahead of last chapter, the morning of the vow renewal. So, forgive me if I snuck in douchey little summaries.

So, with everyone thoroughly confused, enjoy the shenanigans.

Neal knocked on the front door, irritably tugging at his tie. "Dad?" he called. "It's me!"

He could hear footsteps on the other side of the door, Belle's voice vaguely shouting something, and then the sound of the door unlocking. The door swung open, revealing his tuxedoed father, holding a tie in his hands.

"Neal!" he beamed, wrapping him in a hug. "You look great, how are you?"

"Fine, fine," Neal said, following Rumple into the house. "I just came to pick up the parking passes, and then I'm going to drop by Emma's."

"Hi, Neal!" Belle's voice called from upstairs.

"Hey!" he called back, putting his hands in his pockets as Rumple shuffled through a stack of papers.

"Parking passes… parking passes… hang on, let me check in the kitchen. Come on, follow me." He beckoned Neal after him, sidestepping random cardboard boxes and stacks of paper. Neal looked around curiously, noting the streamers and banners pinned to the wall.

"Remind again why you guys are having your reception here?" he asked, following Rumple into the kitchen. "This place is a mess."

"Belle hired some kids to set it up while the ceremony's going on," Rumple explained, looking through another stack of papers.

Neal checked his watch. "You guys are cutting it close, it's already ten after nine."

"Yeah, yeah," Rumple said, waving a dismissive hand. "Ah! Here we go! Parking passes." He held out a small bundle of papers to him, smiling triumphantly.

"Thanks." Neal folded them into his inside pocket after counting to make sure there was enough. The church had limited parking, and nobody wanted to be forced to walk there in the cold November air. "So… is Hook riding with you guys, or do I need to pick him up on my way back?"

Rumple rolled his eyes at Hook's name, but with two years of sessions with Dr. Hopper under his belt, he managed not to say anything derogatory. "Belle!" he called, his voice echoing through the house.

"What?"

"Is Hook riding with us, or Neal?"

"What?"

"I said, is Hook riding with us, or with Neal?"

"Us!"

"Damn it," Rumple muttered. He looked at Neal, raising his eyebrows hopefully. "Think you could drop him off?"

"Nah, he can walk," Neal shrugged, pulling out his phone to text Hook.

Wake up, Killy.

He waited a minute, and then—

I hate you.

Neal smiled, punching the tiny keys with his thumbs. You're going to look so adorable in your little suit.

Another minute passed before Hook texted back: See previous text.

He chuckled to himself, sliding his phone back in his pocket. "All right, I'll see you at the church," he said, clapping his hand on his dad's shoulder.

"You don't even want to stay for a cup of coffee?" Rumple asked, following him out of the kitchen. "I'll make a pot, it'll only take a few minutes."

"I had some at the diner already, it's fine," Neal lied: Rumple made notoriously weak coffee, and Neal wasn't too proud to admit that he wouldn't be able to stay awake during the ceremony only working on his dad's pathetic excuse for coffee. David always made a good strong pot, a few mugs of that would be able to keep his eyes open.

"Oh, wait! Neal, before you go—" Rumple darted back into the kitchen, and started rifling through papers. Neal groaned, sinking onto the couch.

"Dad, hurry up!"

"Yeah, just a sec!" Rumple called back, still frantically rummaging. "Here we are!" he announced, hurrying back into the room with a few index cards in his hand. Neal looked at them, squinting his eyes in suspicion.

"What are those?"

"I need you to look over my wedding vows. Please, Neal?" Rumple pleaded as Neal made a noise of exasperation. "I'm going to be talking in front of a lot of people, I don't want to look like an idiot."

Neal rubbed his eyes and slowly let his hand slide down his face, sighing. "All right," he said reluctantly. "Let's have a look."

Rumple smiled appreciatively and hurried over, handing him the cards. Neal blinked blearily a few times before his eyes could focus on Rumple's tiny handwriting. He skimmed the vows, frowning at various phrases: "ocean of love"… "you make my heart beat really fast"…"it's a love story, baby just say yes"—

"Dad, you can't actually say any of these things out loud. You know that, right?" Neal looked up at him, raising his eyebrows. Rumple looked hurt.

"What's wrong with them?"

"Well, for starters, they sound completely stupid," Neal said bluntly. "They're really bad lines, really cheesy—"

"I was going for romantic."

"—it sounds like a thirteen-year-old girl wrote it—"

"So I Googled some things, so what?"

"—I mean, look at this last line! You stole that from a Taylor Swift song!" Neal exclaimed, looking at his father with a mixture of disbelief and pity. "What is this?"

Rumple scratched the side of his nose. "Okay, I'll rewrite them."

"Please do," Neal said, handing them back. He stood up, still shaking his head. "Okay, now I really have to go."

"All right," Rumple said, walking him to the door. "You'll look over them before the ceremony?"

Neal looked at him intently. "I forbid you to read anything I haven't approved first." He opened the door, sucking in a breath as the wind gusted over him. "Shit, it's cold," he shivered, turning his coat collar up.

"Bundle up," Rumple advised unnecessarily. Neal managed to keep from rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, all right. See you guys later. Bye, Belle!"

"What?"

"I said, bye, Belle!"

"Bye, Neal!"

"Emma, you up?"

Emma's eyes flew open, and she shot out of bed, casting an anxious glance at the clock: nine-fifteen.

"Shit!" she swore, running her fingers through her tangled hair. David pounded on the door again.

"Emma?" he called, his voice muffled. "Neal texted me, he's on his way over."

"Yeah, okay!" she called back, ducking her head under the bed, looking for the heels she was supposed to wear that day. Damn it. She pushed herself up, nearly tripping on her way to closet. "Can you make sure Henry's up?" she said, dumping out the crate of shoes she had shoved in the corner.

"He's at Regina's, remember?"

Oh, right. Emma breathed a sigh of relief: he'd definitely be ready, then. One less thing to worry about: it was difficult enough getting herself ready, let alone a disgruntled teenage boy.

"Are you almost ready?" Snow called through the door.

"Uh… sure…?"

"Emma," Snow said exasperatedly.

"Okay, the longer you talk, the longer it's going to take me!" Emma said irritably, yanking her dress off the hanger. She shot a few more furtive glances around her room, looking for the damn heels, before throwing her dress on the bed and grabbing her shower stuff.

The morning was already off to a shitty start, and it just got shittier: it took forever for the water to get warm; then she used David's shampoo instead of her own, so now she smelled like "Treseme for Men"; then her toothbrush fell on the floor, so she had to hunt down a new one; and to top things off, she forgot to take her necklace off before blowdrying her hair, and it seared a thin red line around her neck.

Perfect.

She stomped out of the bathroom, hearing the sounds of voices murmuring and cups clattering below before slamming her door shut. She pulled on the green dress she'd dug out of her closet, poking her head out only to realize it was on backwards. "God—damn it!" she cursed through gritted teeth, righting it.

She rummaged through her drawer, untangling the wire for her curler from her headphones (all the while muttering things she would have grounded Henry for saying). She shoved it into the socket, and resumed the search for her shoes as she waited for it to heat up.

Of all places, she found them sitting on the outside window sill. How does that even happen? she thought, shaking her head incredulously as she grabbed them.

By the time she got her hair curled and her make-up done, Emma had managed to calm her temper enough that she no longer felt the need to stab someone repeatedly. After a quick once-over in the mirror on her door, she gave herself a satisfactory nod and went downstairs.

Her parents were already dressed, both looking very nice in their formal clothes: David's tie matched Snow's red dress in an annoyingly perfect way. Emma shrugged a "thanks" at their approving smiles, and turned toward Neal, clearing her throat to ask for an opinion—

"Oh, my God," she said, staring at him with wide eyes. "Dude, you look hot."

"Thanks," Neal said, leaning across the counter to take another handful of Cheerios. He glanced over at her, and nodded. "Nice dress."

Emma dropped onto the stool, still staring at him. Neal seemed to sense her staring at him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the Cheerio box, reading the trivia facts. He munched on a few Cheerios, and slowly moved his eyes to the side to see her gawking at him. He looked back awkwardly for a minute, then slowly moved his eyes back to the box. David silently set a cup of coffee in front of Emma, prodding her to drink with a touch to the shoulder. Only then did she shake herself out of her stupor.

"So," she said, taking a sip of coffee. "You guys bringing anything to the reception?"

"David made baklava," Snow proudly, nudging him with her elbow. David shrugged, smiling shyly as he fixed himself a second cup of coffee.

"Aw, dude, you should have made pancakes," Neal grinned, leaning his elbows on the counter.

"You can't bring pancakes to a vow renewal," Emma scoffed. Neal turned his head, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Says who?"

"You just can't," she said.

"Why?"

Emma frowned at him. "Because you can't," she said deliberately. Neal shrugged, going back to his Cheerios.

"Emma," David said, frowning down at his phone. "I just got a text from Regina. She said Henry's not there."

"What?" Emma and Neal's head snapped up at the same time.

"Hang on, I'm going to call him," David said, still frowning. He put the phone to his ear, Emma keeping her eyes fixed on him, hardly breathing. Rationally, she knew that Henry was probably fine, hanging out at the diner or with some of his school friends as he had taken to doing lately… but that did nothing for the feeling of panic swelling in her chest.

"Henry?" David said suddenly, his frown deepening. "Where are you? You scared us."

Emma sagged in relief, feeling her breath return to her as she heard Henry's voice say something indistinguishable. She reached out for the phone, mouthing, Let me talk to him.

"Okay, hang on, Emma wants to talk," David said, and handed her the phone, adding in a loud whisper, "He's with Dr. Whale."

"Dr. Whale?" Neal repeated dubiously as Snow texted Regina back with her phone. "Why?"

"Henry?" Emma said, putting her hand over her other ear and walking out of the kitchen. "What's going on? Why are you with Dr. Whale?"

"I just forgot about some service hour papers I needed him to sign, they were supposed to be submitted by noon today," Henry explained. Emma narrowed her eyes: Henry was a good liar, but a liar nonetheless.

She decided to leave that discussion for later, after the party, and said, "Okay. Just make sure you call Regina, she's probably having a panic attack."

"I told her I'd be right back," Henry said, sounding guilty. He sighed into the phone, the buzzing noise tickling Emma's ear. "Yeah, I'll call her."

Emma hung up and walked back to the kitchen. "Okay, everything's fine," she said, retaking her seat. "He's going to call Regina now."

"That kid…" David sighed, shaking his head.

"All right, everyone just… let's just drop it for now," Neal said, pushing himself off his elbows. "Important thing is, Henry's fine." He paused. "At least until Regina gets ahold of him." Neal shuddered. "Oy, that's going to get ugly. Okay—" he clapped his hands together, and nodded his head toward the door—"come on, we should get going."

David and Snow went to grab their coats, leaving Emma and Neal alone in the kitchen. She watched him wrap his scarf around his neck, patting down his pockets with the other hand to find his keys.

"Emma, quit staring at me. You're freaking me out," he said, not looking up.

She shook herself. "Sorry," she said, smiling sheepishly. "It's just…"

He glanced up, pulling the keys out.

"You clean up pretty good," Emma shrugged, flopping her hand.

Neal raised his eyebrows. "Thanks, bro."

Bro. Emma cringed inwardly, but forced a smile on her face. "Yeah, whatever," she said, giving him a bro-punch. Neal frowned at her fist hitting his shoulder, but looked up with a tight smile.

"Okay, then," he said, laughing awkwardly.

"Okay," she said, copying his laugh. She knocked her fists together listlessly, wondering why the hell David and Snow were taking so long. God, was this awkward. Neal became engrossed in his phone, texting one-handed while the other hand twirled the keys.

"You guys ready?" David asked, tossing Emma her coat.

"Yup," Neal said, finishing his text and tucking his phone in his pocket. "Let's go."

Emma sandwiched herself in between her parents as they trailed out the door, not wanting to bump into Neal and make things even more awkward. Snow gave her a strange look, but didn't say anything. It was a little harder to manage going down the stairs, so she just walked a little behind everyone, watching Neal's curly head bob as he jogged down the steps.

She grimaced. Bro.

"So, what's the verdict?" Whale asked as Henry hung up with Regina, sighing.

"My computer is gone for two weeks," he said, flopping onto the couch. Whale clicked his teeth sympathetically, wrapping a tie around his neck.

"Still…could've been worse, right?"

"Oh, trust me, it will be," Henry said, looking at him seriously. "She'll probably make me enter the monastery when she finds out about Sheriff Skinny-Jeans over there."

They had all agreed that today at the reception would be the best time to reintroduce Graham to Storybrooke. The entire town would be gathered in one place, and since Belle was having an open bar, there'd be plenty of alcohol to help them come to terms with it.

Graham had insisted on dressing for the occasion, so Henry and Whale had been forced to spend last Saturday trying to pick out a suit, with Graham giving them specific instructions from the car via bluetooth: he wanted something stylish, but not too dark; classy—no, not that one! That's a funeral suit, Victor! A slimmer cut than that…slimmer…ah, perfect. But see if they have one just a shade lighter.

"What are we talking about?" Graham asked, coming into the family room. He checked his reflection in the hall mirror, fluffing one of his curls, before turning to the other two. "How do I look?"

Henry glanced up, and shrugged slightly. "Nice?"

Graham looked at him impatiently. "Nice? Is that it, that's all you have for me?"

Henry shrugged again, typing on his phone. "I don't know… really nice?"

"Victor, what do you think?" Graham asked, turning away from Henry with an exasperated sound.

"Yeah… nice seems to cover it."

"Oh, you two!" Graham snapped, turning on his heel. "Coffee?" he called from the kitchen.

"Coffee!" Henry and Whale yelled back.

Henry played a few games of Candy Crush on his phone while Whale fumbled with his tie. Henry frowned in concentration, trying to strategize his last four moves so he could knock out three separate block of chocolate squares. If only he had a striped candy…

"Henry, does this thing look straight?" Whale said frustratedly, gesturing to his tie. Henry tore his eyes away from the screen.

"Hmm?"

"My tie, is it straight?"

"Uh…." Henry shook his head dubiously. "Sure?"

Whale rolled his eyes. "Thanks. That's really helpful, Henry, thanks a lot."

"Here we go," Graham said, bringing in a tray with three cups of coffee on it.

"Coffee…" Henry droned, smiling in appreciation as he leaned forward to grab one. He looked over the rim of his cup as Graham let out a chuckle.

"Victor, that tie is ridiculous."

"What's wrong with it?" Whale frowned. "Is it not straight?"

"Wear the dark red one, it'll look so much nicer."

Henry raised his eyebrows as Whale shuffled back upstairs and Graham took his seat in the armchair, flipping open the paper. Slowly, he turned his eyes back to his phone, resuming his game.

So, were they boyfriends now, or what? What exactly went on after Henry went home for the day?

"How's this?" Whale asked, reappearing in the family room. Henry and Graham looked up. "Better?"

"Better," Graham nodded, setting his cup down and standing up. "C'mere, let me help you."

Henry stared with wide eyes as Whale crossed the room, so Graham could knot his tie. He wrapped around his neck, shaking his head and chuckling as he tugged it under Whale's collar—and smoothed his jacket down? Henry choked on his coffee.

"You all right, Henry?" Graham asked, dropping his hands.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he gasped, putting his cup down. Graham raised an eyebrow at him as he retook his seat, and returned to his newspaper.

Henry stole a glance at Whale: he was frowning at the ceiling with his mouth slightly open, as if struggling to figure something out.

Henry looked back at Graham: he was leisurely flipping through pages, his leg folded so that his ankle was resting on his knee.

Back at Whale: staring at Graham with same frowning, open-mouthed expression.

Back at Graham: humming as he skimmed a page.

Back at Whale: staring at Henry—staring at Henry?

What? Henry mouthed.

Why do you keep staring at me? Whale mouthed back.

Hallway. Henry pointed, and Whale followed him into the hallway, shooting one last glance at Graham over his shoulder.

"What? What's going on?" Whale said.

"Shh!" Henry said, putting a finger to his lips. He tiptoed to the doorway, peering around the corner at Graham: he hadn't seemed to notice them leaving. Henry turned around, looking at Whale. Whale squinted his eyes, giving his head a little shake, as if to say, What? Henry couldn't help staring at him for a moment

"Okay, so what is going on with you two?" he whispered, gesturing toward Graham. "Are you guys, like…?"

Whale's eyes grew wide as he realize what he was asking. "What? No. God, Henry, why do you have to make things weird?"

"I make things weird?" Henry said disbelievingly, pointing to himself. "You mean things weren't weird enough when you two were gazing lovingly into each other's eyes?"

"I wasn't gazing into his eyes!" Whale snapped. "He was just fixing my tie, he's anal about that stuff!"

Henry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Interesting choice of words…"

"Oh, my God, Henry!" Whale said in disgust, turning on his heel and pacing up and down the hallway. "Great. You just ruined this for me. Are you happy?"

"Whoa, hey, dude, I'm not judging," Henry said reassuringly, walking toward him. "I'm just asking."

"We're not gay."

"Okay," Henry said, shrugging. "Whatever you say."

Whale eyed him beadily, his mouth a thin line. "I think it's time for you to go home."

Henry grinned at him. "Need some alone time?"

Whale closed his eyes, clenching his teeth. "Go home, Henry."

"All right, all right…" Henry said amusedly, and sauntered back into the family room to pick up his backpack. "See you, Graham."

Graham looked up with a smile. "Leaving already?"

"Yeah. See you at the reception later."

Graham lifted his cup to him, and nodded his head.

Henry strolled back into the hallway, smiling at a very irritable Whale. "Bye, Dr. Whale," he said in a sing-song voice.

"Get out, Henry."

"I'm going, I'm going… give you two kids some privacy."

Whale yanked the door open. "Out, Henry."

"Okay." Henry slowly stepped through the door, his left foot dragging behind him. Whale gritted his teeth, exhaling slowly.

Henry poked his head back in, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. "You going to ask him to be your prom date?"

The door slammed in his face.