DISCLAIMER: I do not dare claim any ownership for the fabulous characters, situations, plots and/or spins on old stories that ABC's geniuses have given us on Once Upon a Time.

This is a what-if story: The way I figure, something DID jog his memory that night in the pawn shop…but it wasn't the windmill…

In the shadow of the toll bridge

Chapter 6 – Fatherly Love

"So when I saw the scar on your chin, I knew it was you," Henry beamed proudly.

James smiled, looking down at him as the two of them tore into a couple hot dogs on the castle playground. Enduring an entire afternoon of classes was torture for poor Henry as he'd sat as his desk, his leg bouncing up and down excitedly, counting down the time until school was out. James had promised to come back after making an appearance at the bank where Kathryn worked. In the meantime, Snow had watched with great amusement as Henry checked the clock every forty seconds or so.

Deciding it was best not to be seen too much together in public, Snow had headed straight home after school leaving James and Henry to get better acquainted. Regina, according to her adopted son, worked until 5:00pm on Thursdays and would be waiting at her office for their weekly dinner-before-therapy outing. It seemed, James thought as he'd returned to the school that afternoon, that although Madame Mayor probably wished she could keep a very close eye on Henry, day-to-day maintenance of the dark curse necessitated her allowing him…rather a lot of freedom.

So Henry took James to the one place he knew they'd be able to talk freely: his castle. Seeing it, James tried not to let it show how much his heart sank at the sight of their home reduced to a child's jungle gym. The castle was obviously a favorite place of his grandson's and he was determined not to let his sadness show. Having bought lunch and settled down on the structure, Henry talked rapidly of the curse, the storybook, his trip to Boston…and his mom. "It'll be great to have you in on Operation Cobra!" he said happily.

"Cobra?"

"It's our codename. Me and Emma's. You know…our mission. To bring back the happy endings."

"Ah," James nodded, taking a bite out of his hot dog and chewing thoughtfully. To bring back the happy endings: a noble goal. And accurate, for that is—after all—exactly what had been restored to him and Snow. Their happy ending: awakened by true love's kiss. James glanced down at his grandson somewhat in awe of him. Could it really be that simple? "Why 'cobra'?" he asked.

"To throw her off."

"The queen?"

"Yeah. Cobra's got nothing to do with fairy tales."

James grinned. "I see…smart thinking."

This small compliment earned James another broad grin from the boy. "So how did you know?" Henry asked, swallowing another bite of his late lunch. "I mean, when did you figure it out? When I asked you about the sword?"

James laughed. "I think that's definitely where it started," he said and he related the story of the pawn shop, the unicorn mobile and the…well, a fairly modified version of events at the toll bridge.

"Brilliant," Henry muttered, more to himself than his grandfather. "That's what I've been missing!"

"What?"

"Proof! You saw something in the shop that belonged to your real world. There must be other things there too. Things people owned that will help them remember!"

James paused mid-bite. He honestly hadn't thought of it that way. "You know what? That could really work."

Henry crumpled up his wrapper and shoved it in his jacket pocket, pulling himself upright. "Come on then! Let's go check it out!"

"Wai—whoa now, hold on there Henry," James held his hand up, staying the boy in place. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Henry looked at him curiously, shook his head and shrugged. "Mr. Gold?"

Henry plopped back down again and studied James's face. "Oh," he hesitated, still looking puzzled.

James read his expression like a book, smiling to himself as he beheld a boy so clearly wanting to impress his grandfather with how much he knew, unwilling to admit that he was actually not aware of Mr. Gold's true identity. James polished off the last of his own lunch and then turned to level with him. "Henry, Mr. Gold is…well he's a really dangerous man."

"Mmm hmm?" said Henry, then finally giving in to curiosity, he came clean. "I…I haven't figured him out yet," he admitted, clearly embarrassed.

"That's ok, he doesn't look at all the way he does in your book anymore," James said at once, and this seemed to comfort Henry, who perked up and inched closer.

"So who is he?"

James sighed. It was really too much to ask of a ten-year-old. To share in the burden of undoing what was quite possibly the most intricate and deadly curse in any realm. To live with the knowledge that his town was even more dangerous than he already knew. But staring at him with that hopeful, eager expression on his face, Henry's enthusiasm was simply impossible to resist. Besides…James thought with a light twinge at his heart…sitting here confiding in Henry was the closest he'd felt to being a father since he'd placed Emma in the wardrobe…and sent her away.

"He's Rumpelstiltskin." He said it quietly, though there was no need, for the late autumn wind howled around them with an icy sting.

"No!" Henry's mouth fell open.

James nodded. "So if we walk in there together—"

"He might get suspicious and tell the queen!" Henry finished for him immediately.

James again broke into a wide (almost goofy) grin. The kid was quick. Very quick. "Well, I'm not sure how much he even knows about the queen but yeah…he'd get suspicious."

Henry screwed up his face in concentration, thinking on all the times he had seen Mr. Gold. A particular meeting popped into his head and he slapped his hand down on James's wrist. "That explains Cinderella!" he cried.

James started, "What?"

Henry swung his legs back and forth. "Cinderella. A few weeks ago, Emma and I helped this girl named Ashley and I figured out she must've been Cinderella. She had mean stepsisters and stuff so…" he shrugged, as if his methods of deduction needed no further explanation. "When we found her, she was trying to get away from Mr. Gold. He was…" he thought for a moment, for his own understanding of what exactly had gone on between his mom and the pawn broker was a little sketchy. "I think he…he wanted her baby, but—"

James inhaled sharply, but tried not to let his reaction frighten the boy. "Ella had her baby?"

Henry nodded. "Uh huh. A few weeks ago."

"And did Rumpl—uh, Gold…take it?"

At this, Henry broke into another toothy grin. "No," he said with a proud nod. "Emma fixed that. Made it so she could keep her."

James's head was spinning. This was practically as hard to process as learning he had a grandson. Ella had been brought into the curse still with child? Which meant she had spent the past 28 years pregnant? And more disturbing still was the fact that Emma had apparently spent an afternoon trying to find her and had … 'made it' so Ella could keep her baby. To what exactly his daughter had agreed to bring this about, James could only imagine. But knowing Rumpelstiltskin as he did…he knew it couldn't be good. Could Emma now be indebted to Rumpelstiltskin? The very thought of it made James's blood run cold, but he tried to temper himself for Henry's sake. "What about Thomas?" he asked quickly.

Henry frowned. "Thomas?"

The prince rolled his eyes, feeling stupid. "That's right, he wouldn't be 'Thomas' here. Was there um…have you seen anyone…a man…hanging around Ella?"

His grandson thought for a moment, revisiting his adventure with Emma in his mind. "Not that I saw, but when we went looking for her, we stopped at this guy Sean's house. I think I heard Ruby say it was her boyfriend."

James's heart began to race. If this Sean was indeed Thomas, alive and well in Storybrooke, and Ella was able to keep her baby…perhaps the two of them were closer to their happy ending than they knew. And if they could wake Thomas and Ella—

"Did you know them?" Henry's curiosity was peaked. His grandparents' awakening was, at last, solid proof that he was right about the curse: his town was populated with fairy tale characters who had no memory of being the legends everyone grew up with. But it hadn't actually occurred to Henry that all these people might have known each other, been friends even. The thought intrigued him. And after weeks of being the one who had to explain everything, he was thrilled to be on the receiving end of such fascinating tidbits.

James looked down. "Yes," he sighed and glanced behind them at the sea crashing violently into the shores of what was once their beautiful summer palace. "Yes I knew them well. They were…very good friends of ours."

Henry slapped his palms against his thighs and sprung to his feet once more. "What are we waiting for then? Let's go get Emma and then find Cinderella and tell them—"

"Hang on a minute Henry," he laughed again, but this time he stood up too. "We can't do anything yet. You've gotta get to the mayor's office and keep your appointment. Otherwise—"

"She'll flip out, I know," Henry finished, suddenly dejected. "Do I hafta go back there?" he asked, his voice suddenly pleading.

Instantly, James crouched down to his level. "Hey, listen to me," he said, their eyes locked. "I don't want you ever feeling like you have to do something you don't want to do." It was vital that his grandson understand him on this point. For what James must ask of him now pained him a great deal, but he knew it could not be helped. "If I could take you home with me right now, I would Henry."

Henry stared at his shoes, nodding but not saying anything. It was difficult for the ten-year-old to hide his disappointment. He had almost convinced himself that his own nightmare might really be over…almost.

"But you have to ask yourself what's best for…for Operation Cobra." The boy looked up, a little glimmer returning to his eye. "If you weren't on the inside, Henry, we wouldn't even be here. We need more…uh…more—"

"Intell!" Henry cried out suddenly, his grin fully restored. "Got it. Don't want the queen to find out before we're ready."

James smiled, and then thought of something else. "And…" he hesitated, searching for the right words, "I think you should hold off on telling Emma for now."

At this, he reeled back. "What? But she's your—I mean," he stammered, for this made no tactical sense to him. "Why?"

"Well," he began, mindful of the very fragile state this boy was actually in despite his self-assured exterior. It would devastate Henry if James in any way implied that Emma had simply been humoring her son, indulging him in this fairy tale 'theory' for the sake of maintaining their relationship. And he wouldn't disrupt that bond for anything in the world. So he chose his words carefully. "Emma's…kind of…she's…" he took a deep breath. "You told me how she reacted when she met you right?" He nodded. "Well just think of how she'll react to us Henry. Her parents. She's lived her whole life thinking we…" he trailed off, shuddering at the thought. "She thinks we abandoned her." He looked up again and put his hand on his shoulder. "It'll be a lot for her to take, you know? Having to openly accept that she has parents again?" The explanation was a little esoteric for a ten-year-old to grasp, but he'd learned in a very short visit that his grandson was indeed, brilliant.

And sure enough, understanding slowly dawned in his young face. "Yeah…you're probably right. I don't think she even really sees me as her son yet. She's not ready."

James watched him in admiration, marveling at the wisdom in his young eyes. "Good man," he said, ruffling his hair. "Come on…we better get back."

They climbed off the castle, dropping to the sand with a cushioned plop and headed back toward town. Before they drew too close to the road however, Henry surprised him by grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. James stopped and turned to him. The boy looked up into his eyes, holding back one last question.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking back and forth between his face and their clasped hands.

Henry bit his bottom lip and then asked, "What uh…what should I call you?"

The dull ache that had been residing in James's heart – ever since he'd been forced to leave Snow last night – twisted sharply in his chest. Once more, he crouched down to him. "Well, for now I think we better—"

"Oh I'll still call you Mr. Nolan," he quickly clarified. "With…you know with other people around but…" he trailed off again.

James smiled. "What do you want to call me, Henry?"

"Well," his expression turned contemplative, as if he was considering some important investment options. "You're too young to be 'grandpa'," he stated matter-of-factly. James chuckled. After a few more pensive moments, Henry at last seemed to come to a decision and nodded. "How 'bout 'Pops'?"

James gave his hand a squeeze and then tugged the lapels of Henry's jacket firmly around his grandson's shoulders, his heart swelling with fatherly pride and love. "'Pops' it is."

…

Though Mary Margaret had offered her some very good advice last evening, a rocky night's sleep and three cups of coffee had returned Emma to her previously harried state regarding Graham. She wasn't at all interested in talking over what she had seen and by late afternoon had convinced herself she didn't even care about his midnight clandestine activities. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was in a blatant state of denial. And if made to look at it objectively, Mary had certainly forced her to at least consider the possibility that her reaction was indeed motivated not by disgust…but by jealousy. Emma, however, was hardly an objective person, and as she turned down Main Street and sped past Granny's toward the coast, a nice long 'chat' with Graham was the furthest thing from her mind.

She took a sharp turn at the head of the square, and when her tires screeched, she ignored the glares and jeers cast her way as she sped up the parkway. I should just quit, she thought but then immediately dismissed it. She couldn't quit. She needed a job, needed to build roots…to stay near Henry. And like it or not, this was actually the only job in town for which she was qualified. She certainly wouldn't be able to stand working in some coffee place or Ma and Pa convenience store. Driving around in a cop car exerting authority was pure Emma. And besides…it pissed off Regina.

She would, however, eventually have to face Graham, and she couldn't possibly have been looking forward to anything less as she sped along the road approaching Henry's castle. She had taken to spending time there even when he wasn't with her, for she had found the same degree of comfort and refuge on its shores as he had. She was actually wondering if Henry himself would be there, fully aware of his Thursday evening schedule, when she spotted him…with David.

She slammed on the breaks and pulled instantly up to the curb before she got too close. They were just far enough away and clearly too engrossed in their conversation to notice her. This didn't prevent her from ducking low behind the wheel as she watched them hop off the castle and start walking along the sand. What could they possibly be talking about? What was he even doing here? And why had Henry just run up and caught him by the hand? Envy of a different sort began to stir within her and she tried to ignore the sharp ache in her heart as she watched her son sharing some sort of confidence with this…stranger…and at their castle!

What in the world could they be talking about, she asked herself again. Was Henry spinning tales about curses and evil queens? Or worse, was he filling David's head with stories about being Prince Charming and this epic love he was supposed to have for Mary Margaret? That certainly wouldn't help the recent amnesiac get over his misplaced lust for Emma's new friend, nor would it keep him from messing with Mary's head as he had been for the past few weeks. No…this conversation with Henry could lead to no good, and she flung open the car door, ready to stalk right up to them. But as they reached the curb hand-in-hand, crossed at the light and halted on the other side, she watched David crouch down to her son…and hug him the way a father would. The image paralyzed her, and she stood by her open car door in a complete stupor as Henry skipped off toward his mother's office and David shoved his hands in his pockets watching him go. It wasn't until Henry was out of sight that David turned slowly from the street and retreated away from the square, presumably headed toward what Emma knew to be the direction of his home.

What…the hell…just happened? David had watched Henry leave the way a father stood at a bus stop, making sure his son got on ok. Just what was he trying to pull? Was it some trick? A way back into Mary Margaret's life through one of her students? Emma tried hard to believe these as plausible suppositions, but the look on David's face said otherwise. There was no artifice to it. Emma could detect no sign of ulterior motives or duplicity, (which was after all – as she had bragged to Henry – her 'superpower'). No, the look on this man's face was pure unadulterated affection, protection, love.

Emma's head was spinning. Why were David and Henry even talking in the first place? Two strangers separated by every conceivable factor – conversing as if they'd done so their entire lives? Why did they seem to share an almost instant connection? And why…in God's name…did the look on David's face strike her as eerily, almost frighteningly…familiar? She couldn't explain it, but neither could she shake the distinct impression that she had seen just such an expression before. That she had been witness once already to this fatherly love…and through David's very eyes. Reality forced her to reject immediately the voice in her head which was distinctly Henry's: I found your father…Prince Charming…he's in the hospital in a coma. See the scar? Such fantasies simply weren't possible. Your parents didn't leave you on the side of a freeway…that's just where you came through! No…just…not…possible. Your parents were trying to save you from the curse…and yet…

Complete and total nonsense, she thought abruptly, shaking her head and climbing back into the cop car. Now that David was retreating out of sight, she could think clearly. Sighing in relief, she nearly laughed at herself and made a mental note to keep a close watch on Nolan. The car was still running, so she shoved it into drive, gave her head a healthy shake, and sped away.

It took her a few minutes to remember what she'd been obsessing over before she'd stopped by the castle. But she soon spotted the sheriff's ride and remembered immediately. Ironically enough, the scene with David and Henry left her feeling oddly prepared to face this particular challenge head on. So as the sun began to settle and Graham pulled his car into the diner, Emma followed soon after – determined to resolve at least one of her issues before the day's end.

***Thanks so much for all the reviews in the past few days, and over a holiday weekend too! Thanks to all who favorited and/or subscribed recently. Hope you're enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing it. Props to JuliaAurelia for correctly guessing where we're headed next. Working on introducing Sean and Ashley into the mix…and of course, more James, Snow, Emma, Henry and a few new people along the way. Ain't Christmas Break grand?***