Guest Comments

GremmaShoelace: I missed you! Welcome back, sweetie! The continuation is here :D

BossLady (x2): Yes, I totally agree that Graham knowing with certainty that someone would protect him back is something so alien to everything he's experienced. You'll see some Snow confrontation minimally here, but there will be more. Thank you so much, as always!

Ok: So, first thing's first: Emma is not Killian's only chance for happiness. The whole conversation in Advice Over Drinks eludes to the fact that opening your heart will eventually allow others in. Second, this is a prompt-based fic that was only supposed to be one chapter, thus more Killian prompts bring more Killian. Thirdly, his arc is nowhere near done as we have only barely scratched into what's going on in Storybrooke. Killian is also the only other character to get a POV chapter. I'm sorry you feel that he is only a plot device, but I'm honestly trying to not make any of the characters solely that.

Title: Entitlement (Part 2)
Summary: RH verse. Some people feel entitled to what they think is theirs.
Note: Shifting to anti-regina territory, here. This is the real part of lessawildmoon's prompt, picking up right from the end of Part 1. Also, so not a V Day fic …sorry?

The door to Granny's diner slammed into the wall as Graham stormed in. His eyes were hard and focused as he strode inside, fists balling in anger.

His focus narrowed to the path to the restrooms. Granny was staying out of the situation but her fingers twitched, the crossbow on the back counters and within reach. Red was watching from a corner, looking intense. But it was when he found the narrow hall to the back that a certain relief filled him. He caught Killian's eye and released a held breath. He was standing just outside the men's room door, arms crossed in front of his chest and trying hard to look like he didn't care.

Knowing he wasn't the only one looking after Henry's safety helped his stride shorten.

But it didn't let him even try to hide the fury as he was met with Snow's teary face as she stepped into his path.

"Move," he said shortly. He needed to get to Henry first; he couldn't care about her right now.

Snow reached out. "Graham, I didn't kn—"

He yanked back. "You did," he replied sharply. "Emma told you as much."

"It's your fault." The voice came from behind him, and he felt his insides twist.

"I won't deal with you right now," he said succinctly, not even turning to Regina as he took another step forward.

Abruptly, his movement was stopped and his body was twisted around forcefully. Shock and revulsion filled him as he realized what was happening, as he felt the magic track along his nerves. It left an imprint on his scars even as he was released. He had been near good magic for the past year, but Emma had never used it on him. To feel it again was like being ripped apart at the seams.

"You will not take him away from me. Not after you already turned him against me," Regina spat. Her eye makeup was smeared from the crocodile tears he was sure she shred in front of Henry. His fury ignited tenfold at the sight, at what Henry would have dealt with.

Before he could even think, his body responded, hand grasping around her neck so suddenly that her head slammed into the wall behind her. He couldn't even let himself feel the satisfaction at the sharp crack, the ringing of Henry's pleas still echoing in his mind. "You did that," he hissed.

A piercing shock of power made him wrench back, stumbling as he felt it fry along his skin. He let the pain recede, and he made to advance again with a growl in his throat.

"Graham, stop," Snow protested, taking his arm. "This isn't helping."

He flashed wide eyes to her, his mouth dropping open. "Not helping?" he repeated, incredulous. "Like blatantly ignoring Henry's wishes?"

Snow's face fell. "She just wants to see her son," she protested weakly.

He shook his head, turning to glare at Regina again. "That is not your decision," he replied.

"So, now it's a decision to let me see my own son?" Regina demanded haughtily.

Snow's gave a reproachful look, but then turned back to him. "I tried to ask Emma, but she wasn't with you, and Regina wanted to meet at two …."

He felt himself start to shake. "You didn't try to ask me. You didn't try to ask Henry. You are as much in the wrong here as she is, Snow," he replied bitingly.

She stepped back, looking stung. Her brow creased, teary once more. Graham only felt his ire increase at seeing it.

"Did you think you and Miss Swan were the ones that raised him, Huntsman?" Regina cut in, eyes beading. "Because I believe that was me. He is my son. He'd want to see his real mother."

He nearly swayed with disbelief. The entitlement was baffling, especially in light of Henry's barricading in the back. Snow had bit down on her lip, the first true sign of conflict, though he felt the dizzying realization that she also mostly agreed.

"I'm sure the lad feels just that," Killian cut in dryly from the background, rolling his eyes skyward. He adjusted his back against the door, subtly blocking it further. "Must've been why he turned so pale at the very sight of you."

Regina's lips peeled back, sneering at him. "No one asked you. I have the right to him, to decide what's best for him."

Graham stepped between Regina's sightline to the bathrooms, adding another barrier. "After everything you did, you have exactly zero rights. Especially ones that supersede his."

"He is mine," she insisted.

The presumption of possession made his vision gloss over crimson. "Get. Out," he said through gritted teeth. His nails bit into his palms, every muscle poised to fight.

Snow inched forward. "Graham—"

"No," he growled. He had no patience, for her, for Regina, for anyone but Henry. "You can go, too. I'm here for Henry. You have proved you can't be trusted with him."

Regina straightened, her shoulders squaring as she leveled him with an intense glare. "You will back down," she said darkly. Her hand twitched, red light barely pulsing from it.

The blatant threat barely registered in his mind, his main concern getting her far away from Henry. "Get the hell away from him."

Her teeth bared, eyes flaming. Her hand shot out before he could react. It just missed his chest as he was pushed aside, tumbling to the floor. His elbow and hip slammed into the linoleum, startling him into realizing what almost happened.

"What are you doing?" Snow cried, shaking as she remained in the place he had been.

Regina blinked. She seemed to realize her audience all of a sudden, her expression tempering back to one of neutrality. Still, she only looked down at him with determination bordering in her hard gaze.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

Graham stumbled up to his knees. "Henry," he breathed.

The bathroom door was wide open, and he had no idea just how much of the scene the kid had witnessed. Henry looked terrified, struggling against Killian's arm as the man tugged him back from the situation. "Don't touch my dad!"

Regina hesitated, backing up a pace as she registered Henry's fear.

"I'm okay, kid," Graham assured, swallowing back the anger to focus on him.

Henry finally broke free of Killian's grasp, and lunged himself into his arms. Graham sighed, hugging him close. His small body trembled, and a sob escaped against his shoulder. Graham pet back his hair, the other arm tightening around his body both in comfort and protection.

"I think it would be best if you left now, Regina," Snow said firmly, stepping between them and the brunette.

Her eyes dragged across them all, lingering on Henry for a long time. She took another step back, her chest heaving. "This isn't fair."

Henry turned his head against him, peering up at her. "I don't want you here," Henry said with finality.

She looked like the words slapped her across her face, her expression crumbling. "Henry—"

"No! You never listen! I don't want you here! Go away!"

Graham rose to standing, pushing Henry behind him. He was glad that Henry had found his voice regarding her presence, but that didn't mean he'd leave him vulnerable in front of her. "You heard him," he said coolly.

Her lips pursed, expression souring. "This isn't the end." She turned on her heel, storming out of the building.

"I know," Graham muttered, sighing as he turned back to the kid. "You okay?"

Henry shook his head, leaning heavily on him.

"I'll go, too," Snow said softly. Her hands curled around her enlarged stomach, sorrow filling her countenance. "I'm so sorry, Henry."

"S'okay," he mumbled.

"No, it's not, kid. But now she knows, and she'll make it better," Graham insisted, looking at Snow expectantly.

Snow nodded jerkily. "He's right. I was wrong. I won't ever do it again," she said. "I'll listen to you from now on."

Henry buried his face into his side, and he felt tears collecting into his shirt. He nodded nonetheless.

She left then, giving one last apologetic look before heading out. She didn't look defeated so much as sorrowfully empathetic, and he wondered if she was truly understanding after being witness to Henry's emotion.

Graham breathed a sigh and pulled Henry back to look at his face. He wiped a couple stray tears from the kid's cheeks. "What happened?"

Henry swallowed. "We came here and she was already waiting. She was trying to say that you and mom were keeping me away from her, and she started crying. She tried to hug me. Hook saw I was upset and asked if I wanted to leave."

Graham looked up at Killian. He had been mostly keeping to himself through this all, hovering just outside their group. He felt the gratitude permeate through him; if he and Emma weren't there and if Snow wasn't willing to help, someone else was looking out for the kid's well-being. Killian's bright blue eyes twitched and he inclined his head slightly, acknowledging Graham's look.

Graham turned back to Henry. "That's when you went to the bathroom and called me?"

Henry nodded. "I know you were helping Belle, and I'm sorry—"

"Hey, no. Stop that. You are the most important, you and your mom. Belle is fine," he insisted. He didn't want to bring up Neal, as the feelings colliding from that encounter didn't belong in this one.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, eyes tripping along his frame.

Graham closed his eyes, inwardly chuckling at the protectiveness they all displayed to each other. "I'm fine. I promise. Not a scratch on me."

"Beg to differ, mate," Killian spoke up, tossing him the ice pack Red was already holding out.

He caught it in one hand, frowning. Curiously, he looked into the mirrors covering the back of the diner. He grimaced as he saw the bluish-black tracks along his veins on his throat from the power jolt. It ached dully, but he only noticed it once it was pointed out. The adrenaline was still coursing through his nerves, twitching along his spine. Still, he could only feel dejected that Henry had noticed.

"She used her magic on you," he said, his voice small.

"Yeah, she did," he agreed. He placed the ice on his neck if only to cover the marks. "But I don't care, because you're safe."

"I hate her," he said. There was no heat in the statement, though he looked doleful.

"And that's okay. And it's also okay if that's not all you feel," he said gently.

He nodded and looked away, obviously not wanting to talk about it all with their audience.

"Henry," Red asked from behind the counter, "do you want me to make you some cinnamon cocoa?"

He turned a pale sort of green and shook his head. "No. Not now."

Graham pressed his lips together thoughtfully, then looked up. "I think he needs some time first. I'll call if we need something?"

Red nodded hastily, sympathy etching her face. "Of course. We'd send it right up."

"Here," Granny cut in, picking up the glass dome covering a plate of cookies. She chose a few and wrapped them in plastic. "Take these for now. Just in case."

Graham took the gesture for what it was, smiling tightly in thanks. He rolled an arm across Henry's shoulders, leading him to the back. "Let's go to the room awhile, okay?"

"Wait." He stepped away, walking up to Killian. He gave a smile close to a grimace, one he'd seen Emma wear more than a few times. "Thanks, Hook."

Killian nodded. "You're quite welcome, young sir," he said lowly. He jerked his head in the direction of the stairs. "Go with your dad, okay?"

Henry didn't think twice before taking the advice. He took the stairs two at a time, his pace increasing the closer he got to their room.

He seemed to visibly unwind once the door was shut behind them, as he all but collapsed onto the bed. Once settled, he turned back to him, thoughtful as he stared at his injuries. Graham tried to subtly adjust his collar to cover them, but he knew the action wasn't lost on the kid.

"Can you have mom heal you?" he bleated softly.

Graham sat next to him and tugged on Henry's sleeve. "We've never tried it, but I don't see why not," he agreed. He knew he'd have a certain panic at even the restorative touch of power from Emma's magic, but also knew that it might have even more of a healing effect than Henry knew.

Henry pressed his palm over his heart, face crumpling ever so slightly.

"Still there, kid," he assured softly.

"I want to go home," he said in a hoarse whisper, as if saying it would tumble the unsteady moment.

Graham pressed a firm kiss to the crown of his head. "Soon. We'll figure this all out soon," he vowed.

He gave another nod and fell into him. "Love you, dad."

His eyes flicked closed and he scooped him inward. "Love you, too, kid."