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BossLady: Yay, you caught the reference! Lol, it took me longer than I expected to figure out his costume. The others were much easier. This one is for your prompt(s), sweetie!

Title: Only the Beginning
Summary: Christmas Morning.
Note: BossLady asked "Can we have more Graham firsts, counting he didn't have the greatest life in either of his lives" and "can you write a fic of Emma, Graham, and Henry celebrating the holidays as a family. Since their experience in this life is different from Storybrook." Thank you diddykongfanfor helping me decide which one to post today.

It started even before the sun had risen.

Graham was usually the first to wake in the morning. He was a light sleeper anyway, and somehow still those years in the forest influenced his internal clock. He didn't have to worry about finding food anymore, but it still allowed him to make coffee and breakfast and feel that peace that came in the stillness of morning.

So, he was surprised to be blinking sleepily into wakefulness with Henry's face mere inches from his own.

"Finally," Henry sighed dramatically. His hair was in messy cowlicks all along his head but his eyes were twinkling merrily. "C'mon, wake up."

Graham stifled a groan and leaned further back to check the clock at the nightstand. The time seemed to stare down at him mockingly: 4:16 am. No wonder he still felt the heaviness of sleep through every limb.

He couldn't even remember when he had finally fallen asleep the night before. Emma, on the other hand, had passed out quickly despite her preference for late hours; this was becoming habit over the last week or so. She was breathing steadily beside him, fingers curled around his waist and head tucked into his side. She had not moved an inch since he'd woken, and he looked over her sleeping form wistfully.

Henry grabbed his arm and tugged gently. "C'mon, it's morning," he whined.

Graham chuckled. "Barely qualifies," he stated, but dragged a hand across his face and rose to sitting anyway. "How come you went after me and not your mom?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Please. You know she wouldn't budge," he said.

Graham made a noise of agreement and looked back at Emma. She was crumpled into a ball beneath the pile of blankets, dragging more of them into herself as he left the warmth of the sheets. Her mouth was parted, a soft snore escaping her. "Place your bet."

Henry shrugged. "Six. She'll get up early because it's Christmas."

Graham smiled slightly and squinted at the kid. "Is that your guys' normal?"

A slow grin crossed his face. "You still got a lot to learn, Graham," he said, then resumed tugging on his arm.

"I'm up, I'm up," he stated, a laugh in his voice as he stumbled to his feet. "Breakfast?"

"I'll help," Henry offered with a bright smile.

He leaned over and grabbed the half-empty water bottle from Emma's side. "Water the plants first, okay?"

Henry nodded and quickly dashed out of the room. Graham took the moment to stretch and breathe out the last vestiges of sleep. He rubbed the back of his neck as he padded out of the room in socked feet and yanked a sweater over his head as he left the bedroom. It was finally getting cold after an unusually warm December, though there hadn't been word of snow yet.

He didn't have to worry about lights as he entered the kitchen area. The glow from their tree cast enough radiance to be sufficient in the early morning. He paused to look at their decorations, still marveling at the soft glow of color. It was so different than anything he'd experienced, even in the current life. Other than a tree at the precinct, there'd never been anything to remind him of the holidays before. He would also admit he was glad he finally buckled and agreed to the real Douglas fir in their home; the smell caused nostalgic feelings deep within him.

He opened the door to the fridge warily and almost sighed in relief when nothing came tumbling out. For some reason he'd allowed Emma to empty the grocery bags yesterday and she usually took to cramming things into too-tight spots. He picked through the items that were waiting to be made for the rest of the day (lunch and dinner would likely be blurred together) and finally found eggs and bacon at the very back.

He opened the carton and carefully counted the remaining eggs. He needed to ration to be sure there'd be enough for their meal later. "Sure you want to start breakfast now?" he asked.

Henry nodded. "We have to do something while we wait for mom," he said and looked longingly at the presents tucked under the tree.

He chuckled. "Well, how about I just get our drinks ready first. We can watch a movie or something in the meantime, and I'll make breakfast closer to dawn. That'll get your mom out of bed sooner," he teased.

He nodded. "Guess I'm not really hungry, anyway." He snagged a candy cane off the tree regardless and flopped down on the couch. "Which movie, then?"

He shrugged and started the kettle. "Your choice."

He flipped through channels with a serious look on his face before finally settling at the beginning of Home Alone. Graham sat on the other end of the couch and quickly relaxed into the seat. "So, what's this movie about?"

Henry looked at him oddly. "Seriously?"

He chuckled, hearing every bit of Emma in his voice. "Yes, seriously. I didn't grow up with Christmas movies in any life. Not really."

Sometimes they played in the background of group homes, the same ones over and over on a loop, but he'd never been included enough to sit through one. Even in this life he'd been branded an outcast, for one reason or another. There was never enough time in his childhood to form many relationships as he bounced from home to home. In school he'd been acknowledged but was only ever an acquaintance, someone people liked but never enough to get to know.

This trend ran right up until he'd joined the force in Maine. Having to depend on a partner quickly rose to depending on coworkers, and he'd been able to truly call people friends for the first time. Remembering all the lives combined now only made that all the more unusual and amazing.

Of course, now with Emma and Henry, the bonds he made with people were more on the level he'd placed his family in his first life. He would protect every last person in their circle with his life. Emma and Henry were on a separate list, so above anything he'd ever felt that it frightened him sometimes.

And they were the only ones he'd want to share Christmas with, and be included in all their traditions.

After Henry gave a brief run-down on the film, the water was ready. Graham got up to pour a mug of hot chocolate and let another drip through with coffee. He also readied the coffee maker to begin at five-fifty, just in time to wake Emma. He returned to his seat with a couple more candy canes and the mugs clutched in hand. "So, the parents fly to France while the kid is at home?"

"Yes, pay attention," Henry said simply, and took the chipped santa mug with a grin. "Thanks."

"Mhmm," he said into his coffee. He could feel the sleep still wanting to web up his thoughts and hurriedly swallowed back a mouthful. It would keep him up through the cooking, at least.

Henry took a long sip of his chocolate and then licked the whipped cream off his lips with a thoughtful look. "Merry Christmas."

He bumped his shoulder gently. "Merry Christmas."

He watched the movie almost absently, chuckles rising faintly from within him. A glance to Henry showed that the adrenaline was wearing off, and he was blinking slowly at the familiar sounds of the film.

Graham had finished the drink and was watching Kevin set up his microwavable meal when Henry slumped onto him, his eyes fluttering sleepily shut. Carefully, he placed his cup on the end table and then slipped further down into the cushions so Henry could lay more comfortably against him.

Even with the caffeine buzzing through his system, being curled in with family took its somnolent effect. He didn't even remember dozing until he felt warm fingers scratching pleasantly at his scalp and then brushing his hair back in smooth strokes.

He opened his eyes for the second time that morning and smiled immediately at the soft look on Emma's face. She was crouched beside the sofa donned in one of his sweatshirts, hanging off her shoulders loosely.

"Hey," she greeted in a whisper.

He reached up with one hand to tuck her hair behind her ear and the other unconsciously pulled Henry in closer. His lip turned up, and he leaned forward to press his smile against hers. "Good morning," he said as they parted.

She looked at her son and then back to him, her sea-colored eyes sheening with moisture. "Merry Christmas, Graham."

He breathed in deeply, the smell of cinnamon and pine and coffee melding into one. Peppermint still clung to his tongue, sweet but clean. The colored lights made Emma's golden hair reflect red and green and blue, warm with light. The TV was on to another themed special, and the sound of Whos singing was placed in the background of his mind.

These hallmarks of the holidays filled his every sense, a peaceful aura around the people he loved more than anything else. He traced a line down her jaw and curled a lock of hair in his fingers. Her eye closed, the smile resting on her features gently. Her skin was glowing even though he knew she must still be tired. The moment felt intimate, private, and he felt the awe settle low in his stomach that he was a part of it. "Best Christmas I've ever had."

She grinned. "You haven't even opened your presents."

He shook his head and looked back down at Henry, then once more met her eye. "Don't need to."

She bumped his nose with her own before rising. "And this is just the beginning," she said with a raised brow, then sauntered toward the fridge.

He slipped Henry down to the couch as he rose, but couldn't help the play of a smile on his face as he silently agreed.

Only the beginning.