A friend on tumblr prompted something to commemmerate the release of Wonder Woman in theatres.
He stood at the door, clutching one of his comic books in small, clenched fists. The force of his grip caused the cover to wrinkle and crease, something that would normally distress the boy. At this time though, he hardly noticed.
He can't remember where he read it, but he does remembers reading once that you never know when everything is about to change until it suddenly does. This wasn't like that. He knew that once he knocked on that door he could never go back. It didn't matter what her reaction was. If she welcomed him with open arms and a warm smile, then he for the first time in his life he would have a mom. If she told him to get lost then, well, then his dream was dead and he'd be back on the train to Storybrooke and in Sister Blue's office before the sun rose and even though everything would look like it had yesterday, it wouldn't be the same because he'd be different. He'd be crushed.
He wondered what she'd look like. The mothers on TV always wore pretty sundresses and lipstick and loved baking. Sister Blue said TV was evil though, a distraction sent to make man idle and loosen his "moral fiber" or something like that. She said that about everything. She even hated comics cause' she said that they promoted false idols, whatever that meant. She only let him read them because Sister Belle kicked up such a fuss about the importance of being able to read.
The boy took a deep breath and raised his fist to the door. He knocked, slowly, letting the sound reverberate down the hall. When the echo died down, he raised his fist to knock again, when the door opened.
A young woman, with long dead straight blonde hair and a sleek black dress opened the door.
"Hey, kid. Where are your parents?" She asked looking down the hall, as if waiting for them to pop up out of nowhere.
Henry ignored her question, and instead took the chance to take in everything about the woman who stood before him. She was very pretty. Even prettier than the moms on TV, but she lacked their softness. The backs of her legs were defined and muscular unlike those of the sisters at the convent. Her middle lacked the roundness of the moms he saw around town, and even her arms were strong and brawny. She was surrounded by a halo of blonde hair and looked as glamourous as a movie star, as well as more powerful than any other girl he had seen before, yet she seemed familiar to him.
He found himself growing uncharacteristically shy under her gaze and fiddled with the comic book in his hand to take off the pressure of her scrutiny. In the panels on the page, Wonder Woman, Princess of Amazons, fought the other warrior women on Paradise Island for the chance to accompany Steve Trevor to Man's Land. He cast a downward smile at the pages of the comic book, struck with understanding of why the woman before him looked so familiar.
True, she was not like the other moms, she wasn't even like the people he saw on TV. She was better. A real life Amazon, Superhero just like the ones from his comics and sent directly to save him. He looked back at her with confidence and awe.
"Emma Swan, my name's Henry. I am your son."
A Little bit of historic fiction, I guess. I've always wanted to write an AU set in the 60s so I might continue this one day. But for now, it's a cute little drabble about badass women in fiction. And what Once ff writer worth their salt, hasn't put their spin on that first door scene between Emma and Henry?