Chapter Seven: Dad

It had been a little over a year since Mayor Mills had started baby-sitting young Henry when he snuck into her bedroom and found the painting. She prevented him from going in there, but recently the boy had gained a rebellious and adventurous streak. He had claimed there was a dragon in there he needed to slay in order to protect her. She had scolded him, but it didn't stop her from being secretly thrilled at how far the two of them had come since his early weepy days. Ever since the incident at the border it was clear she had earned his trust as well as the trust of John and Michael.

But as she led him out of the room he had come to a halt at the table beside her bed. "Who's he?" he had asked, putting a finger on the glass frame and smudging it. He was in the phase where he felt a need to ask questions about nearly everything. Normally Regina did not mind in the slightest, but she hesitated as this one was quite personal. The picture was the only drawing of her father she had taken over with her- a reminder of the price she paid for all this. But how to tell an almost five year old that the picture contained a man she had killed and used his heart to enact the curse he was trapped in. She had come too far to scare him away now.

So she made sure to choose her words extra carefully so as not to betray any of that. "Well, Henry, that's my father."

"What's a father?" he had immediately followed up, staring at the picture intently.

"Well, Henry, a father is that same thing as a dad," she tried, but his face was still blank. "John's your dad," she offered, trying to make a connection. "He's the one who looks after you and takes care of you. So the man in that picture is the one who raised and took care of me." She held her breath and hoped this was enough. Henry did not, seemingly appeased, though his eyes were still locked on the picture. She put a hand on his back and guided him out of the room. "Now, if I remember correctly, someone has a birthday coming up soon. Now what could this special boy want?"

He turned to her, beaming. "I want glasses!" he exclaimed. "I want to look just like John!"

"Well, that sounds manageable." They started down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"What was your dad's name?" he asked suddenly.

"It was actually the same as yours. Henry." She was suddenly struck by the idea of how odd a coincidence that was, but a wave of calm immediately washed over her. It was nothing. She had probably just had the name on her mind when he received his cursed personality. There was nothing special here to be worried about.

She had no idea how much the conversation stuck with Henry because it wasn't brought up for the rest of the day. He simply went to partake on another imaginary adventure. But one could not imagine the shock that ran through John as he tucked Henry into bed that night when he asked "Are you my dad?"

John's mind practically shut off the moment the word was mentioned. But he pulled himself together as he stared down at the almost five year old. "Why would you ask a question like that?" Michael and he had been so careful hiding and avoiding every possible connotation of the word around the house. They were not parents because they were merely baby-sitters. Baby-sitters whose time was getting close to half done he couldn't help but add sadly.

"Regina said so," Henry explained simply. Ah, so there was the culprit. "Her dad was named Henry and she said that you're mine."

"I'm not," John had said, much harsher than he intended. Henry immediately sobered, looking downward. John mentally cursed himself and the entire situation. "Mayor Mills was incorrect in what a dad is," he rationalized, trying to be much calmer. It wasn't Henry's fault. These questions were only natural. In fact, it was better they have this conversation now and clear the air than having him run around with some wild assumption in his brain. It would just make things harder for everyone involved.

"Then what is a dad?" was the natural follow-up.

John took a moment, thinking about his own father. He became very nostalgic and simply let the words flow out of him as he remembered the blissful days back when everything had been so simple. "A dad, or father, is a parent. He does really big things like give you everything you need such as food, clothes, and house. He protects you from all the bad things in the world because he cares about you." He felt tears pricking his eyes, but forced them back. "But he also does all the little things you take for granted like take care of you when you're sick." He had once had a fever and his dad had stayed home from work all day simply to read to him. "He tucks you in at night, and patches you up when you're hurt. He-he puts you before himself because he loves you."

He looked down once again to see a very confused Henry. "But that's what you do." It was like a punch in the gut. Was it? It only took a moment for John to realize that Henry was telling the truth. These past years he and Michael had done virtually everything their father would do for them in the same situation. He would do all the big things to keep Henry safe and happy as well as the little things because he cared about him close to the most he cared about anything. Only Michael and Wendy could rank higher. He would be willing to die if it meant Henry would live. The baby-sitting had ended a very long time ago because now despite their denial they were certainly Henry's parents. The realization was somehow both exhilarating and terrifying. The two of them had come from having their lives ripped apart to having this wonderful, extraordinary kid who almost made it all worth it. He made their lives infinitely better. But it was one thing to give Henry up when they were simply looking after him. How did they stand any chance if they admitted to being in so deep that they practically needed him in their lives?

It would have been so easy to lie, to deny and the reason it was the truth later. It was the logical option for the job they had been assigned. But John and Michael had promised that they wouldn't lie to Henry. He deserved better. He deserved a family, and a family usually came with parents. "Then I guess I'm your dad," he answered, running his hand through his hair. "And that…" He had to go all the way. He had to. "That makes you my son." The word somehow made his heart clench and leap at the same time.

"Is Michael my dad too then?" Oh, that was not going to do at all. The last thing he needed was any sort of gossip in this town about the relationship between him and his younger brother.

"No. You don't have two dads. One can, but you don't because Michael and I are brothers. That makes him you Uncle Michael," he explained awkwardly. It was the easiest explanation that fit with their cover story. He would apologize to Michael for giving him the shaft later in the naming department, but he was technically the one who adopted him in this fabrication. "Now, I think it's time to get some sleep."

"I know." He settled in. "Dad and Uncle Michael. I like it." He closed his eyes as John rose. "Goodnight Dad." John couldn't fight the genuine smile that appeared, nor could he stop himself from spontaneously bending down to kiss Henry on the forehead.

"Goodnight kiddo." He turned out the light and shut the door behind him before making himself some tea in the kitchen. Michael found him there when he arrived home from the midnight shift. "He asked me what a dad was."

Michael quickly swallowed his shock and raised an eyebrow. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him the truth. I'm his dad and you're Uncle Michael. We're his parents," John admitted. Michael merely smiled in relief. "Now I know you were probably aware of this revelation close to five years ago, but it has been quite the harrowing day coming to grips with all this for me. I think I'll head up to bed." He put his cup in the sink and started for the stairs.

Michael frowned and went to follow him. "Pan-"

"I don't even want to start going down that road. We'll deal with that when the time comes. We're practically half-way there," he added with a bitter laugh. Michael backed off, nodding.

-FAWH-

Michael couldn't help but smile fondly as he glanced over where Henry was coloring at the kitchen table while he worked on dinner. He was concentrating so hard on staying within the lines while keeping his favorite birthday present from slipping off his face. Mayor Mills had provided the five year old with a pair of thick black glasses with plastic lenses that were practically identical to his older brother's. He loved them so much it was a struggle to get him to take them off for bed. Not that Michael blamed him, because he could remember a time when he so looked up to his older brother he wanted the same thing. He could tell John was beyond flattered, though his ego certainly didn't need boosting.

"Uncle Michael?" He looked up from the stove to see Henry now staring intently at the calendar on the fridge. Time didn't move, but the Darling brothers insisted on keeping track of where they would be outside of town- mostly for the sake of Henry and his birthday. "Something's printed on there for Monday." Michael glanced at the calendar.

"First off, Henry, that's Sunday." They had been working on days of the week, but it was still a work in progress. "It says Father's Day, though. That's a holiday where kids thank their dads for how much they do for them."

He realized a moment too late where Henry's mind would immediately go. "So I should do something for Dad!" Michael hesitated. He had long since accepted his part in Henry's life as a parent and obviously loved him quite dearly. John however was quite a few steps back as he tried to prevent progress through logic and reason. He had only just recently stopped flinching whenever Henry called him dad, slowly growing more comfortable and safe with the idea. Celebrating this holiday might just be a step too far at the moment. "What should I do?"

There was no denying how excited Henry looked at the prospect of this holiday. And that was bound to make John at least force a smile at the event so as not to hurt his feelings. Plus, his brother deserved a day to be shown how much he was looked up to. John practically was Michael's surrogate father after all. "Well, I know a couple of things we can do, but it has to be secret." Henry nodded, excited at the prospect. "Sunday we'll make breakfast together for him- his favorite. You can make and color him a nice card. And then tomorrow I'll get out of work early and we can go down to buy the watch he always admires at Mr. Gold's Pawn Shop for a present. Sound good?"

"It sounds perfect. He's going to love it!" They both heard John come in the door from work and Michael made a zippering motion across his mouth. Henry echoed the sentiment and returned to coloring. John entered in his uniform and mussed Henry's hair. "Hi Dad."

John smiled. "What're we coloring today?"

"It's a dog. Do you want to help me?"

"Of course I do!" John exclaimed enthusiastically, taking a seat next to him and grabbing a crayon. Henry giggled loudly and Michael couldn't help but smile. His brother was adjusting to the idea. Maybe there was hope for this holiday yet.

He and Henry retrieved the watch from Mr. Gold the next day, spending as little time in there as possible. When Sunday came around Henry woke him up extra early and they snuck down into the kitchen. John had come down a few hours later to a plate of his favorite special pancakes on the table and a tackling hug from Henry.

"Happy Father's Day!" the five year old shouted, pulling away to thrust a box and envelope into his hand. "We made breakfast!"

Michael studied John carefully, waiting for any sign to pull the plug on the whole ordeal. Sure enough, the first emotion expressed was discomfort but that was quickly buried by an awkward smile. "Thank you very much, kiddo." He took a seat and with a withering glance at Michael opened the envelope. It was a hand-drawn picture of the two of them- matching glasses and all.

"I made it myself!" Henry exclaimed, practically bouncing from excitement. "Uncle Michael wrote the words inside for me."

John opened the card and started to read aloud. "'Dear Dad, I just wanted to tell you thank you for being so brave and nice to me. You're better than any hero in any story. You're my hero. Love always, your son Henry'" The room was filled with a charged silence as he opened the box and stared at the watch for a long few minutes. Michael had no idea what to do.

"Do you like it?" Henry asked, impatient. John turned to him and Michael noticed that his older brother was genuinely crying. He had never seen him like this before. John never cried, even in their worst moments. This was not good. He went to say something when John clutched Henry in a tight hug, kissing his hair.

"Oh, I love it," he choked. "Thank you so much, Henry. This… this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you." He rocked him back and forth before Henry pulled away.

"Eat your breakfast before it gets cold!" John laughed and immediately complied. Henry spent the day glued to his side, not that John seemed to mind in the slightest. The two read together, built elaborate things with Lego's, and even went out to ice cream after dinner. It wasn't until he went to bed that Michael had a chance to speak to his brother alone.

"John, I didn't-"

John raised his hand. "You don't need to apologize. This was quite possibly the greatest day of my life." He ran his fingers over the card. "He… he is too good to be true. I-I don't know how to explain what came over me. I just- I felt safe. And I know it sounds so stupid that a five year old made me feel like that, but I felt relief for the first time in three hundred years. And he gave me that with a card and a watch I'm pretty sure I'm never taking off. Thank you for that, by the way."

"It's not stupid," Michael reassured him. "It's very complicated- our past and all this now. You're entitled to whatever's going on. After you taking care of me for so long I admit it was nice to give you a day."

"You've taken care of me too, Michael. Don't short change yourself." Michael had merely shrugged at the time. He didn't put much stock in the statement. So one could imagine his surprise when he woke up a week later to Henry jumping on top of him.

"Wake up! We made breakfast!" Michael sat up only to have a box with an envelope dropped on his lap. "Happy Uncle's Day!" It was another masterpiece by Henry with a new frying pan. As Michael scooped Henry up for a hug he suddenly understood all the emotions John had felt. This-he- was their life now. And it was perfect. A perfect life where Uncle's Day appeared on the calendar the week after Father's Day as if it was a real holiday. A perfect life where he realized that John had depended upon him as much as he had on his older brother. And that they now both depended on Henry as well for the happiness he so easily gave them. He wished this could be their happy ending and was enjoying every moment it had the potential to be.

-FAWH-

It was about a month later that Mary Margaret had approached them while they were having a family ice cream trip. "I don't know if you planned to home school him, but it's getting to be about that time," she had said. "I think public school could be good for him… to make some friends his own age. Excuse me but I'd hate for him to grow up lonely. Not that he would be because you two-"

"No, you have a good point," Michael cut in gently. She let out a sigh of relief. "John and I will have to talk about it. We'll let you know soon."

Mary Margaret nodded. "Thank you. I just know it would be a joy to have him in class. I know the two of you are very protective, but you know I'd be there to keep an eye on him. Well, have a great day and I might stop by tonight. I made you something." She kept walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction leaving John and Michael to swing Henry over cracks in the sidewalk as they walked.

"We should do it," John said, surprising Michael. He had been ready to put up a good fight with his older brother. "The fact of the matter is neither of us knows anything about education. We barely learned half the stuff ourselves." He looked down at the swinging Henry. "He's much too smart for us to force him to grow up dumb."

Michael nodded, agreeing completely. "And he should have friends. Lots of friends- more than we ever dreamed of." John gave a small smile, but Michael quickly realized something. "But then he's going to be the only one who grows up. If he's going to be with all these kids that never age… he's smart enough to notice that soon."

"Then it'll be time," John took in stride, not seeming to be worried at all. "We figured we had about six or seven years. We're getting close. He has such a wild imagination I'm sure he'll understand." Michael hoped so.

They both decided it was time to start making the transition to that point, so that night John removed the book of fairytales from the safe and began reading it to Henry. He had always loved stories, but this book easily had him enamored. He wasn't making the obvious connections quite yet, but they had no doubt soon enough he would start to realize who the people around him truly were. The two hoped it all worked out in a way that Henry was comfortable with and more importantly that he didn't hate them for bringing him here. The two brothers didn't think they could stand that in the slightest.

"But if I go to school," he had told them as John removed his glasses and tucked him in, "then I'll spend even less time with the two of you."

"Henry, this isn't up for argument." John had on his best stern parenting voice. "Of course we would keep you locked up here all day to spend all your time with us, but that's not right. Being a parent is putting you before us. And you need to go make some friends and learn important things we can't teach you. We're not doing it because we want to get rid of you. We're doing it because we…" He still couldn't will himself to cross that line. "Because we care about you."

"You'll be right there when it's over, right?"

"Either us or Mayor Mills." Henry nodded, accepting this. He had grown close with Mayor Mills since the border incident, and the feelings seemed to be reciprocated. She, like his parents, was someone stable he knew he could count on. That meant a great deal to a child John knew. But he wondered how that relationship would change once Henry learned her true identity. But those were thoughts for another time. "I promise. And you know-"

"A Darling never breaks a promise," Henry repeated. "I know." Michael pulled him in for a hug.

"See? You're too smart to not go to school." They both walked to the doorway, switching off the light. "Goodnight Henry."

"Goodnight Dad. Goodnight Uncle Michael." It wasn't until Michael checked in on him later the night that he realized Henry had no intention of sleeping. He had dozed off with a flashlight, head resting on the book of fairy-tales. He had certainly fallen hard and the storm was certainly on its way now.