Guest Comments

Guest: Thank you so much, lovely! Their nursery isn't set up quite yet. Back in It Was For Us, I mentioned Emma's memory of a corner of her bedroom having stacks of half-unwrapped presents ... that's as far as they've gotten, lol!

BossLady: You are such a sweetie, thank you for your reviews! After a bit of sweet, a bit of angst to temper it :)

Title: Anniversary
Summary: One night in early December, Henry sneaks into their room.
Note: Prompt from anon "Emma and Henry's reaction to the day Graham die in Storybrook?"

Graham felt the bed shift, and blinked awake almost immediately.

He was fully not expecting to see an eleven year old sneaking into the barest space between him and Emma.

His brow creased, but Henry said nothing, eyes shaded as he yanked the blanket he brought over himself. Emma didn't even wake, but she shifted unconsciously to tug her son close. She had been sleeping heavier these past few days, and it seemed tonight was no exception.

Graham leaned back, catching a glance to the clock. It was almost midnight. They had had a long evening, Henry begging for "just one more" of everything they did: round of cards, movie, video game. There had been a strange sort of desperation in the asking, one that Emma and he had been grudging to deny since it was a Tuesday, after all.

Even so, Graham would have thought that the busy night would have left the lad well and truly exhausted.

And he did look like he'd pass out at any moment, but there was an almost unreadable fear as he plucked at a thread at the top of the sheets.

"You okay, kid?" Graham murmured, sleep thickening his voice. The boy had never snuck into their room like this before.

He looked at him with big eyes. "I didn't finish my homework," he admitted quietly.

He leaned up. "Henry … you lied?" he asked. The boy said he was done hours ago, the reason Emma and he had decided to forgo work stuff to focus on family time. There had been no reason to doubt him, as Henry was typically good about staying on top of school work and wasn't hesitant to ask if he needed help. This was almost wildly unusual for the kid that generally liked to learn.

Henry looked away sharply from Graham's scrutiny. "I couldn't concentrate."

Graham sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. "Okay, what's due?" Once he shook off the sleep, he was sure he could get his mindset on math and science or whatever he needed.

Henry furrowed his brow, eyes hard and focused on the bedsheets. "I don't know," he mumbled.

Graham raised an eyebrow. "Really," he said at length. "We should check your folder, then."

Henry's chin quivered, and he buried himself into the blanket more.

A pang of alarm went through him to see it, and carefully he pushed back the lad's hair. "Or maybe we should talk about why you can't concentrate."

Henry blew out a low breath, and wetness collected at his lash line. "Do you feel okay?"

Dumbfounded, Graham cocked his head to the side. "Uh, Me?" he asked ineloquently. He frowned. "Yeah?"

"You don't have a fever? You don't feel dizzy?" he asked, words almost on top of each other in the rush.

"Henry, all I'm feeling right now is tired and confused," he said, then grasped his shoulder. "What does how I'm feeling have to do with your homework?"

The boy scooted back, further into Emma's sleepy grasp. "We still don't know."

"What don't we know?" he coaxed.

Henry grimaced. "How you're alive."

A sharp pang hit him. "I thought we talked about that," he said slowly.

He shrugged, pulling himself in closer. "I guess."

Graham has a split second of worry that this was part of his own inexperience as a parental figure. That this was what both Gia and Sam on separate occasions had warned him of, of good kids going through "stages" to test boundaries. It would be easy to be distracted by what they all knew was an easy topic to get pulled in to. But the idea disappeared just as quickly, because Henry's face has nothing of guilt and all of intense concern.

They were always concerned for each other, he thought wryly.

"Henry," he began, and leaned down. "I'm okay. I don't know how or why, but I swear I'm okay."

"This is the day, y'know," he mumbled.

Graham was about to ask what day he meant, when a sudden chill washed over him. He shuddered, letting the morbid feeling pass as quickly as it was able. He counted back in his mind, grimacing as he verified. "A year ago today, huh?"

Henry swallowed audibly, a pallor overtaking him. "What if … what if you can't stay past when you died?"

Graham pushed back the same sharp fear and grabbed Henry's hand in his own. "It's almost midnight. You can stay up with me until then, and then we'll know I'm around for good, okay?" It felt simplistic, and obviously they didn't know what magic brought him back so which could take him away, but if it made Henry feel better he didn't mind.

He looked wary, but curled his clammy fingers around his own and nodded. "And you'll … you'll let me stay?"

Graham nodded seriously. "No one's kicking you out, kid."

Henry watched him closely, a raptness to his attention that was close to desperate. He took a stuttering breath and squeezed his hand.

They both jumped when Emma's phone vibrated. Emma sighed and woke, eyes widening to see Henry there. She gave a smile, kissed the crown of his head, and then turned to shut off her phone. When she settled back, hugging Henry to her, he noticed that her gaze hadn't strayed from his.

"An alarm?" he asked softly.

She nodded over Henry's head, swallowing audibly. She gave a small shrug. "Just needed to see."

He let out a low breath, realizing that she knew exactly what day it was. It made something in him ache, that he was the cause for their worry. He never wanted that, never wanted to be such a burden. He was almost angry at himself for it.

Emma's hand rested gently on top of Henry and his stacked ones, and something in her expression made him relax. She didn't look as fearful as Henry; she just looked determined. He remembered her words from months back, the "I'll protect you right back," and he felt a spark of something more akin to awe at her.

He looked back down at Henry, and his heart tugged with the sudden wistful feeling that rose within him.

He knew when midnight passed when Henry released a held breath and rested his head over his chest. Emma's eyes were closed, fingers trailing up and down his pulse. Even as the small tendrils of his own fear trickled out of him, he couldn't believe how much love he felt for these two people.

He decided that, in a few hours, he'd call them all in sick. He needed a day with his family, and Henry would need to catch up on that homework, anyway.