Merry Christmas guys. My present to you: a new chapter and a contest (details at bottom).

And yes, Grannies does serve alcohol at least in my world.

A lot of people have asked me if what happened to Millah will come into play in this story. Oh god yes. That is too juicy to pass up. Gold's favor, on the other hand, won't. the only thing I can think of him asking for is for her to find Bae and that point is a bit moot and now that Gold knows how much Emma means to Bae, I don't think he would risk things between them just to cash in that favor. The way I see it, Emma's kind of off limits for Gold to use as a chess piece anymore.

And a special thanks to nomag who pointed out Neal's accidental hypocrisy. I hadn't even thought of it that way until she pointed it out.

Neal was beginning to think this wasn't as good of an idea as Henry had made it out to be. Sure having some bounding time with Henry was at the top of his list of things to do, but the way David was looking at him made him fear slightly for his safety. He had thought that now that things had settled somewhat between Emma and him, David would back off a bit with the shark grins. No such luck.

He wouldn't try anything—not now with both Snow and Henry watching—but it was enough to make Neal wary of the sword in David's hand…even if it was just wood. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he seriously suspected he might be limping away from this little lesson.

It had all been Henry's idea and Neal felt like he couldn't tell him no. they hadn't really had all that much time together between Neal keeping his distance before he squared things away with Emma and Henry's abduction.

And that was how he found himself behind the school with Henry and Both of Emma's parents. A part of him was surprised that the school even had practice swords (and archery supplies and a plethora of weapons Neal couldn't even name) given how overprotective parents were in this realm…or at least that's what they showed on TV.

According to Henry, however, the more colorful gym equipment was a new addition. After the curse broke, PE got a lot more interesting than dodge ball at Storybrook Elementary.

David swung the sword and Neal ducked, trying desperately not to get a bone broken. It wasn't enough. The wooden plank made contact with the side of his head and he saw stars. If he kept getting hit in the same spot, those stitches weren't going to heal.

Out of the corner of his eye, Neal saw Henry sitting on a bench, watching. He didn't look too worried, though, and Neal couldn't help but wonder how many injuries the kid had gotten himself during one of these lessons. Considering Henry didn't seem to have any permanent damage, he was a lot tougher then Neal or a lot quicker…or both.

"You know David," he said grasping the wooden handle of the sword, blinking rapidly in a feeble attempt to brush away the stunning effects of the blow. "I haven't had much opportunity to learn swordplay."

Or in layman's terms, go easy on me. I haven't exactly been doing this long. David heard the underlying message, but something about the way he was smiling at him told Neal he was kind of out of his depth with this.

Or maybe that was just the way the man just naturally looked and David really didn't have that much against him anymore.

"It's simple: just try and stick the pointy the pointy end into the other guy." Neal took it back. David was enjoying this far too much for it to just be a training lesson in his eyes.

There was a snort from the bleachers and Neal looked over, but it didn't come from Henry. A boy with shaggy blond hair sat a little ways down from Snow and Henry and Neal could have sworn he had seen the boy before. It took him a minute to place him. He was the little boy that had been in the library the day Neal had explained just how much the curse had cost him.

But there was something different about him. No kid's eyes should be that dead. It was odd but the boy reminded Neal of himself, back when he was hurting too much to talk—back when no one would listen without trying to label him as seven levels of crazy.

"Mark, what are you doing here?" Henry asked. He wasn't trying to be rude, but the track fields behind the school seemed like kind of a random place for him to hang out. "Doesn't your mother usually have you in some after school activity or something?"

Mark blinked once, his fingers twitching around the cover of his book. "Why do you think I'm here? The last thing I want to do is be stuck in the same house with that cocksucker anymore then I have to."

Neal's eyes widened in surprise and he wasn't the only one. The kid was Henry's age; far too young to be thinking those things let alone saying them, and about his mother no less.

"What's a c—" Henry began in confusion.

"It's a bad word and something you don't need to say." Neal said quickly cutting Henry off.

"Why would you call your mother that?" Snow asked, clearly aghast.

The kid looked up and shrugged. "That's what she is." He muttered, his gaze returning to his book.

"But what does that mean?" Henry asked.

"Don't worry about it." Neal said. A slightly twisted part of him wanted to tell him to ask Emma. It would serve her right for the way she's been ignoring him lately. But he wouldn't do that. Besides, those weren't answers Henry needed just yet.

There was something unnerving in Mark's eyes and Neal wasn't sure what—there was defiantly an intelligence there, but the rest was a little harder to decipher, a well hidden pain or a not so hidden streak of madness…perhaps a combination of both.

He was either a very lost little boy or a psychopath in training and Neal wasn't sure which. It wasn't hard to see that Snow was worried about the boy and Neal couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with the curse breaking. If maybe he couldn't handle begin both.

With all the indignation of a fury freshly out of hell, a woman came stalking across the field. She was wearing a threadbare and dirty uniform from one of the other dinner in town and looked tired, like she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in a long time, but there was a fire in her dark eyes that was striking.

"Damn it Mark," she hissed in a deep Southern accent, grabbing the boy by the arm and jerking him off the stands, "I do not work my fingers to the bone to give you every opportunity just to have you throw it in my face. Now get your sorry ass to you piano lesson."

Mark visibly shrunk, upset at her displeasure. His face was like an open book; equal parts hatred for the woman and equal parts desperate for any shred of affection she would give—waiting with bated breath for a single word of praise.

Something inside him wanted to help, to do something to fix the hellish mess the boy seemed stuck in, but Neal really had no clue what he could do. Neal had learned pretty quickly in the system that under most circumstances, nothing could be done if the parents weren't hitting the kids or molesting them, and, as horrible as the bitch was, there was no sign of any of that.

She stopped and looked around. When she saw just who her son was hanging out with, she smiled her face the perfect picture of southern hospitality. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out it was just a mask, but she didn't drop her charade in the hope that no one noticed her falseness.

She turned to Mark and smiled at him. "If you wanted to spend time with your friends all you had to do was ask. I suppose I could I could make an exception. Just please ask next time."

"Whatever," the kid sneered, brushing her off. "I don't want to hang out with these losers, anyways."

He grabbed his jacket and his book and walked away, his mother following him unable to hide her displeasure. A few seconds later the boy looked back, careful not to let his mother see and Neal had his answer. The kid wasn't psychotic; he was lost… at least for now. Who knows how long that would last with just the bitch in his life?

Mark was living the same life Neal had for the months between when Rumple had become the Dark One and when he had escaped. He knew the fear. How long would he have lasted if he had never gotten the bean? How long would it have taken him to lose his mind around the killings and the fear?

"I take it he's in your class?" David asked Snow, pulling Neal out of his thoughts.

She nodded.

"It's been particularly bad for him since the curse broke and he really needs a friend."

Neal couldn't deny the spark of pride at the glint in Henry's eyes at Snow's comment. Whether they liked it or not, Henry just found his next operation.

Neal walked around town with nothing to do. Emma was at work, Henry was at school, and he wasn't ready to approach Gold (which effectively ruled out hanging out with Belle). It was kind of pathetic, him just loitering around like a teenager and as interesting as this town was, he was still board out of his mind.

He needed to find a job but the thing was that this was a town of no change. Things here hadn't altered for so long and even when it did things were already ingrained into the people's identity that it didn't leave much room for outsiders. After the curse lifted everyone went back to either their Storybrooke or Enchanted Forest vocations and very little opportunity was left for those outside the fold.

Okay, that's not completely true. Besides Emma's family and a few of their friends, most people gave him a wide berth and he didn't need to phone a friend to figure out why. And honestly, Neal didn't blame them. He knew better than anyone what happened to those who got close to him…especially when his father was anywhere within a million miles of the incident.

A little girl with pigtails in a bright pink shirt came out of nowhere and shouted "Boo!"

Neal jumped in surprise. She couldn't have been more than about three and was far too young to be out on her own, but there was no adult in sight.

"Where'd you come from?" Neal asked, kneeling down and looking around for anything the might have been her prison. It didn't take long for him to put the pieces together.

An old woman came running out of a house, the yard strewn with far too many toys for it to be anything other than a daycare. She looked frizzled, like she had been looking for the child for far longer than her nerves could take.

"Mary!" she shouted, walking over and picking the little girl up. "There you are!"

"Sorry about that." She said, turning to look at Neal, "When the curse broke, Tina decided she wanted to start a restraint and now I'm left watching more kids then I know what to do with all alone."

She shifted the child on her hip and stuck out a hand. Neal took it and shook. "I'm Gerty, by the way."

"Neal."

Gerty turned and looked at the playground where three slightly evil looking children appeared to be trying to tangle another kid's hoodie in marry-go-round so that when they spun it, the momentum would take the child with it. Neal was impressed. He had always heard stories of adults having eyes in the back of their heads, but hadn't thought it true but there was no possible way Gerty had seen that through her peripheral vision.

"Paul, Catherine, Danny! You do not want to see what happens if I have to come over there," she said loud enough that they could hear her but was not shouting. The kids scattered like bugs, trying to get away from scene of the crime.

Gerty sighed. "The Burton kids are enough by themselves, but with the rest of them…but what am I saying, I have no business burdening you with this."

"It's nothing really." He was kind of glad for the chatter. He had been lonely in his isolation.

He glanced over at the playground and saw something curious. It was Mark sitting alone on a bench beneath bare tree, looking at a book far too thick for a third grader—the same book that had been glued to his hand every time Neal had seen him. There was a look of pain across his face as if every word cut deep into his soul…as if the book were written in his blood instead of ink.

Neal had been worried about him since the incident at the field and this just made it worse. His mother was a hard ass and the kid didn't seem to have anyone to talk to. No one to help.

"Hey Gerty," he said instinctual not giving his mind a chance to think it over, "I have nothing better to do today, if you need the help. I mean, I don't really have any experience with kids but…"

"At this point I'll take what I can get."

Because he was younger and Gerty was exhausted, Neal was on playground detail. Despite being in charge of making sure two dozen kids don't kill each other, he was having fun. Sure, some of the kids were hyper as fuck but all in all, they weren't bad kids as long as they were occupied.

And that was how he found himself with wood chips digging into his back as he laid on the ground letting the children cheer over the body of the ogre they had just slain.

He let them have their victory for a few seconds before pointing out their fatal flay. "Rawrr!" he hollered, reaching out to grab one, "You have to hit an ogre in the eye or it doesn't count."

The child closest to him, the Barton girl, smiled and punched him right in the eye.

"Oww!" he said, biting his lip to keep from saying a few choice words he knew the parents wouldn't appreciate, "I didn't mean literally."

Catherine had known that, but was playing dumb.

"Alright, time to come in." Gerty called from the doorway, having seen the whole little incident. They all filled in with only a little herding needed on Neal's part.

When all the kids were inside, Neal looked around doing one final check of the playground, but Mark hadn't moved. They looked eyes and without Neal having to say anything, the boy got up and walked towards the door.

He stopped beside Neal and he knew that Mark had been waiting for this opportunity, watching and waiting all of recess.

"How close do you think the stories are to the truth?" he muttered, holding his library book closer then Neal had ever seen Henry. Mark didn't look at Neal as he asked, his eyes never left the peeling paint of the door frame.

He didn't want to say anything—he didn't trust anyone enough for that—but he couldn't keep it all in anymore. Perhaps, Neal figured, that's what made a stranger the perfect person to tell.

Neal shrugged, unsure just what the kid needed to hear. Even though he made it a point not to lie unless he absolutely had to, there were some times when it was appropriate to bend the facts a bit. The only problem was that Neal was unsure which one this moment was.

"Depends. Pinocchio's is pretty close to the book but from what I hear, little red riding hood's really not the way mother goose told it."

The kid's mouth pressed, unpleased with the answer.

"Why?" Neal asked.

Mark's brow furrowed and he paused for a moment, deciding just how much he wanted to say.

"I don't want to be the kind of person the books say I will be."

Will be? That's interesting. But Neal knew not to push it. It was hard enough getting answers out of the kid as is. There was no need to make it worse.

"And what kind of person is that?" he asked, using an old con trick. If you keep the questions vague, the other person will more than likely fill in more blanks for you then if you got specific. It was a good trick to know when you were trying to pretend to be someone else, but Neal figured it would work just as well here.

"The kind my mother wants me to be."

Neal didn't have time to consider what that could mean before the kid continued. "The thing is, I used to dream that my dad would come and rescue me, even though I had only met him a handful of times and didn't even know it. I wanted to be the kind of son he would be proud of, but now that the curse is broken and I've read the stories, I realize that he's just as much of a bastard as she is…and the worst part of it all, is that in the stories, he's a hero."

Mark's voice had taken on a bitter tone that rang true to Neal in so many ways. He had been there before, when he first came to this world—when he first had to face just what kind of coward his father truly was—and so he could empathize with the kid. The saddest part of all this though, was that Neal had had more of a childhood before he had to beat away the bitterness. Mark was what, then? Neal had had four more years of innocence.

Neal knelt down and looked the boy in the eye, wanting to give him a piece of advice that had been the one thing to same Neal from the same dark path Mark was speeding towards. "Then do you know what you have to do, right?"

Mark shook his head.

"You have to be the kind of person you can be proud of and don't worry about anyone else."

Mark just stared at him, not saying anything for a moment and Neal wasn't sure he got it. After a while he just tilted his head to the side, considering, and walked inside.

"I saw that." Gerty said, coming up behind him.

"Did I say the wrong thing?" he asked, a bit self-conscious. Like he said before, he didn't have much experience with kids and he had been really trying not to fuck it up.

"No, you're right." She sighed. "I'm glad he has someone to look up to. I don't like to speak ill of people, but his mother is a piece of work."

Neal snorted. That was one way to put it.

"You did well with them…with all of them," she said, picking up an armful of toys out of the yard.

Neal smiled.

"How would you like a job?"

Neal walked into Grannies, half hoping to see Emma there eating, but he knew better. She wasn't due off of work for another hour and Henry should be busy taking care of his horse. He had stopped by the stables after the getting the job at the daycare. He hadn't stayed long though, the kid was upset and Neal could tell he needed some space.

The dinner, however, wasn't completely void of all his acquaintances. There, sitting at the bar was Regina. Good. From what Neal had heard she would need a friend right about now.

Neal sat down in the empty seat beside her, ignoring the eyes of the other patrons burning into his back and ordered a drink.

"So Henry told me about the fight."

Regina said nothing and just stared at the dark liquid in her glass.

"Want to tell me what it was about?" It was kind of forward of him to ask, but Neal wanted to hear her side of it before he made up his mind on which side of the fence he stood.

"I don't have to explain myself to you." Her words were harsh and a little slurred and Neal couldn't tell if it was out of depression or if it was because of the liquor. Probably both.

"Look Regina," he said taking a sip of his own drink, "I don't want to undermine your authority when it comes to Henry—it won't do any good. That's why I want to hear why you were so adamant that Henry not hang out with Mark before I gave him my two cents."

She looks at him and for a moment for a second and he was sure she was going to tell him to fuck off and refuse to tell him, but she thinks better of it and sighs.

"I don't know anything about the kid personally," she admitted, "but I do know his mother. Ann Malory is little more than a lying, manipulative witch whose ambition always gets the better of her. She is not a good person…"

"So I keep hearing." Neal muttered, causing Regina to give him a hateful look.

"I don't want Henry to have anything to do with her."

There was a beat of silence as he let this sink in. Neal got it; wasn't that supposed to be part of being a parent—keeping a kid safe sometimes meant keeping them away from bad influences—but there was a side of this Regina wasn't seeing and probably wouldn't have even if she were sober.

Neal had been that bad influence once and it had been horribly lonely.

"You know if everyone follows that kind of logic then Henry's damned to be a very lonely little boy."

She shot him a dirty look and he just shrugged.

"It's funny," she sneered, "you lecturing me about hypocrisy."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Henry told me what you told him at Thanksgiving—about how it was cruel to make me watch from afar." There was a layered tone to her voice that Neal couldn't even begin to decipher. Part rage, part thankfulness, and part the hollowness of a completely shattered woman among a whole mixed bag of emotions.

"Yeah and?" Neal asked, confused.

"As much as I do enjoy watching Rumple suffer, it's really no fun seeing him as broken as he was at diner when you wouldn't even look at him."

Neal's stomach dropped. He had never thought of it that way and it hadn't been intentional; he just hadn't been ready to face him. It was far too early for him to address those things and yet he had been blaming Gold for not trying. Well fuck.

"I've only been here a week and I already know that you must be drunk to be defending the imp." It was a shameless attempt to steer the conversation away from his issues. Henry having the right to choose his own friends had nothing to do with where Neal stood in his relationship to Gold.

Regina looked down at her glass, considering his words as she swirled the liquid around the bottom. He could tell she knew he was right but she just shrugged and took another sip.

"He said he hated me."

"Henry?"

She nodded and Neal was surprised. That didn't sound like Henry.

"If he actually meant it, it wouldn't have hurt him so much."

That would explain how tore up the kid was when he went to visit. He hadn't been able to get more than a few sentences out of him which hadn't seemed like Henry at all.

"I'm just trying to do the right thing for him." Regina muttered into her glass. Neal half suspected he hadn't been meant to hear it, but he had.

"I know," he muttered, completely lost as what else.

He let the silence hang for a moment before changing the subject to something a bit less depressing…at least to Regina. "So is this kid's mom really that bad?"

She nodded.

"No wonder he's so miserable," he mutters thinking about their encounter on the playground.

He turned to Regina.

"You shouldn't be driving like this" he said, reaching into his wallet to pay for his drink. "You want a ride?"

For your information, I see Mark turning out as a slightly saner and sarcastic version of Tate from American Horror Story. I figured that would make a good contrast to Henry's goodness.

So for the contest: first person to guess the FTL identities of Mary, the Burton siblings, and Mark can get one BIG spoiler about the ending if they want it. Gerty's the little old lady who lived in a shew. Here's a hint: all of them are from Disney movies except Mark and the "story" he's from has already been introduced in the show…or at least one character from it.