Snow, raising kids isn't easy David thought. He'd taken to picturing his wife's face in his mind at night and directing his thoughts toward her. It wasn't like talking to her, but it was better than nothing.

Henry hadn't come with an instruction manual, and childrearing wasn't something princes were taught how to do. Not like his life as David Nolan was much help, either. Sometimes, when he looked at his grandson, he could see the deep pain of a child who had spent his whole life being abandoned over and over in new ways, and he didn't know what to do.

He couldn't wave a wand and fix everything, and even Rumplestiltskin's magic wasn't nearly enough to make a child feel safe. That took hour upon hour of consistency and love and understanding. It almost seemed, at times, like Henry needed an infinite supply of those things, and his grandfather felt like he was just a flawed man trying to do a hero's job.

As David was about to fall asleep, he heard a tap on his door. "Come in," he called, and Henry cracked the door and peeked around tentatively.

"Grandpa, I wrote a letter to Thomas to say sorry for hitting him."

"That's great," said David, sitting up. "What gave you that idea?"

"You did," said his grandson, rubbing his tired eyes. "A while ago, you said we should always admit it when we make a mistake, so I figured this would be a good way."

"Get some sleep, Henry," said David, but he was smiling. "We'll send it tomorrow."

Henry put the letter down on his grandfather's dresser, but as he turned to leave the room, David couldn't resist reaching out a long arm and grabbing him in a wrestling hold that felt like a hug to both of them. "Good night, kid," he said, messing up his grandson's brown hair.

"Good night, Grandpa," said Henry, grinning.

The last thing David saw before he fell asleep wasn't Snow White's face. It was a little folded piece of paper on top of his dresser.

Somehow, just when David felt the most flawed, his grandson always had a way of making him feel like a hero.


To lexip95, who asked for it.