Am I doing the right thing?

Charming didn't hesitate on account of fear. He was afraid, but he'd been afraid plenty of times before, and he'd learned to use the emotion to make him stronger, more alert, more careful.

It wasn't lack of resolve. Come what may, he knew the best chance was what he was about to do. He was sure.

It wasn't concern for Storybrooke. As Rumpletstiltskin had asserted repeatedly, things would be much worse if no one acted.

No, the whole reason for Prince Charming's hesitation was the grandson he held in his arms. He wasn't stupid; he knew the probability that he would never awaken, and if he did not, Henry would once again be at the mercy of Regina. That thought made him quake in his boots, more than the threat of any injury or pain to himself.

At that moment, his grandson looked up at him, and what Charming saw sealed the deal forever. Henry had always liked him, even before Regina's curse had been broken, but Charming had never seen the respect in his eyes that he saw now.

Henry wasn't the reason he had to stay; Henry was the reason he had to go. His grandson had read plenty of stories about battles and quests, but it was time for him to see what it really meant to be a hero.

Charming squared his shoulders and smiled. He was ready.