Not My Homeland Anymore

Chapter 2: When You Are Young, They Assume You Know Nothing

Less than a week later, Henry was back with an unusual request.

"I'm sorry, you want to do what?" Neal asked, bewildered. He'd known Henry to have some strange ideas before, but this was the first time one of them involved him.

"I told you, I want to buy the book," the kid said, pulling a small box out of his bag. "How much is it?"

"Henry, this isn't a store," said Neal, sighing. "You don't buy books from the library."

"Yeah, but if I, I don't know, lost a book, I would have to pay a fine, right?" Henry opened his box, revealing a small pile of cash and loose coins. "I just want to skip the whole 'actually losing the book' part."

He wasn't wrong, exactly. A part of Neal almost admired the kid's ingenuity. But it wouldn't work.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Henry," he said, sighing. "I couldn't charge you for that book if I wanted to. I have no idea what it would cost to replace."

"What do you mean?" Henry tilted his head in confusion. "Can't you just look it up?" Neal shook his head.

"Here, give me the book. I want to show you something." The boy took the book out of his bag and handed it over. Neal turned to the title page. "See, right here? That's where an author's name would usually go." Flipping to the next page, he pointed. "And this would be what we call a copyright page. That's where you normally see stuff like the year a book was published or what its identification number is."

"But there's nothing there," Henry said, squinting. "The page is blank."

"Exactly," said Neal, closing the book and handing it back to the kid. "And without that information, I have no way of finding out what this book is worth or where to find a replacement."

"So there's no way I can keep it? Or at least hold onto it for a few months?" Neal knew those puppy dog eyes were practiced. But still…

"Henry…" Neal pressed his palm to his forehead. "Put away your money. Weren't you saving that up to look for your birth mother?" The kid had mentioned it a few times over the summer (though never where his mom might overhear).

"Uh, about that…" Henry trailed off, ducking his head as he shoved the box back in his bag. But not before Neal caught the guilty look on his face.

"Henry, what did you- actually, I don't want to know," Neal held up a hand. "Plausible deniability and all that."

"So, about the book?" There was a hopeful look in the kid's eyes. Neal had never liked disappointing kids. But he also knew the rules, and he knew that the only people who could take books out for an indeterminate amount of time… were those who actually worked for the library…

"I might have an idea," Neal said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Really?" Henry's eyes lit up. "What is it?"

Neal explained his idea, wondering how Henry would take it. Most kids that age would reject it out of hand. Then again, Henry had always seemed old for his age.

"Would you be interested in something like that?" He looked closely at Henry's face, but the boy didn't seem upset. In fact, he looked almost… happy?

"That sounds great!" Henry said, smiling widely. "When should I-"

"Hold your horses there, kiddo," Neal said, feeling his lips quirk into a small smile. "Before anything else, there's two conditions I need to set."

"Anything!" Henry said, his smile never dimming.

"First off, the book needs to stay here," Neal said, holding up a finger. "You can hold onto it for the remaining two weeks of your loan, but then it needs to come back."

"But-" Henry looked a little confused.

"You'll be able to take it out whenever you want, and I'll keep it in the back to make sure no one else checks it out, but most of the time, it should be here." Sure, Neal trusted Henry to take care of his things, but this was different. This was a lot of responsibility, and he needed to know that Henry could handle it.

"Alright," the boy said, clearly a little reluctant. "And what's the second?"

"You need your mom's permission," Neal said. If he tried something like this without telling Henry's mother, he might just get arrested, and he wouldn't risk jail time for all the puppy dog eyes in the world. Dad would kill me.

"She'd never say yes!" Henry exclaimed. "She hates anything that makes me happy."

"Henry, your mother loves you," said Neal. "I'm sure she wants you to be happy."

"She just wants me to stay home and be miserable," insisted the boy. Neal knew there was no point in arguing- he'd gotten into enough spats with his father at that age, and he'd had more stubborness than Henry ever had. Instead, he redirected.

"How about I talk to her, then?" Tomorrow was a Sunday, and the library wouldn't open until 11. "I'll stop by tomorrow morning and see if I can convince her."

"You'd do that?" Henry looked at him strangely. "Really?"

"Of course," Neal said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Alright, but you can't tell her about the book," said Henry. "She won't understand."

Neal considered that for a moment. He didn't want to lie to anyone, let alone the mayor (who was technically sort of his boss). But would it really be a lie to just… not mention it?

He's at that age, I guess. He likes the idea of having secrets his mom doesn't know about. As secrets went, this one seemed harmless enough.

"Okay," Neal agreed. He really hoped he wouldn't end up regretting this.

The next morning, Neal drove down to city hall. He could have walked (it wasn't that far), but he wanted to make sure he had enough time to get back before opening even if the meeting went overtime.

Plus, he really liked driving. Or, more precisely, he really loved his car.

He knew his ride wasn't at all what people expected of quiet, straight-laced Neal Cassidy. It was too loud, too flashy, too… everything.

It wasn't the car he'd intended to buy. When he'd first gotten back to town and decided he needed his own car, he'd been looking for something small. Something like the Bug he'd had when he was traveling. Whatever happened to that Bug, anyway?

But the local dealership hadn't had anything like that, and as soon as he'd seen this car, he'd fallen in love. And of course, the first thing he'd done once he got it was take it over to the Marine Garage for a paint job. (He'd wanted to have some reminder of that Bug, after all.)

Sure, people had raised eyebrows at first, but by now everyone was used to it.

Even if bright yellow convertibles weren't exactly the standard car of choice for a librarian.

Neal wasn't sure exactly how he'd ended up as the town librarian.

Sure, he liked books, but he'd never been a huge bookworm or anything like that. He'd never aspired to spend his life surrounded by paper and ink. He didn't dislike loud noise, wasn't particularly organized, and didn't even have a college degree.

In short, there was nothing about him that would make someone say, "Oh, you're looking for a librarian? Neal Cassidy might be a good fit."

Which wasn't to say that he didn't enjoy his position, or wished he was doing something else instead. In fact, he was immensely grateful to have gotten this job, if only for the side benefits. (He really liked his apartment, and not having to pay rent was pretty nice.)

He didn't know the particulars of the arrangement, but as far as he understood, while the building itself technically belonged to Mr. Gold, the lease was held by the city. Which worked for him; he really hadn't wanted to have to deal with Gold. He avoided that man as much as possible. (Neal knew the pawn shop owner wasn't really at fault for what had happened to his father, but that didn't mean he hadn't been at least partially responsible- and Neal was not about to get caught in the same trap.)

Luckily, Gold seemed to dislike libraries, considering that Neal didn't think he'd ever seen him set foot in the building. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Gold anywhere.

Have I seen him at all since I got back to town? I must have run into him at least once or twice, right?

(Honestly, it had been so long, Neal wasn't sure he'd even recognize the pawnbroker if he saw him.)

Regina had just sat down with her morning coffee when her assistant poked her head into the room.

"Mayor Mills, there's someone here to see you."

What?

Regina couldn't remember the last time anyone had come to see her without an appointment. Other than Henry, of course.

"Who is it?" If it was Henry, he would have just come right in. Which meant it was someone else.

"Mr. Cassidy, madam mayor. He says he wants to talk to you." Ah. Him.

Neal Cassidy. The man was a bit of an enigma. He'd just strolled into town one day, a number of months before she'd adopted Henry. Which didn't happen. People from the outside weren't supposed to even be able to see Storybrooke, let alone come in.

He wasn't the first stranger to appear in Storybrooke, of course. But as far as she understood, the Flynns had just had the misfortune of being within the boundaries when she'd first cast the curse. And that snow witch clearly had her own plans. (Which Regina was perfectly happy to let her deal with in peace, as long as the woman didn't interfere with how she handled this town.)

But Neal was different. Unlike the ice cream shop manager, he'd very obviously been caught in Regina's curse, rather than come in deliberately. From what she could tell, he'd probably been a wandering vagrant who just happened to stumble across the town line.

Which didn't happen.

Even stranger, the curse had immediately woven him right in. People in this town had memories of him. (Memories that had obviously never actually happened.) And he had memories of them.

The only theory she could come up with was that perhaps he had some latent otherworldly blood. Perhaps some distant ancestor of his had come to this world through a portal several generations earlier, and the curse had latched onto that.

It wouldn't have been too hard to get rid of him, to make everyone forget him, but Regina had been curious. She'd wanted to keep him where she could see him.

Until that point, Regina had kept the library closed to make sure that no one accidentally stumbled upon her friend in the basement. But she was going to have a child, and she wanted him to be well-educated. Having a library he could access would be a good idea. And while Regina didn't know what kind of man he'd been before this, the curse told her that 'Neal Cassidy' was honest and rule-following, and knew how to keep his nose out of places it didn't belong. Which meant that if she put him in the library and told him not to go near the basement or elevator, he would listen.

It had been an easy choice, and she hadn't even had to convince Mr. Cassidy into accepting. He'd taken the offer immediately, glad for the chance to not have to come to a rental agreement with Gold. The librarian wanted nothing to do with the landlord, which suggested that this probably wasn't some scheme plotted up by her old mentor.

And so far, her gambit had paid off. Neal behaved no differently than anyone else in this town. He had his standard routine he followed precisely the same way every time. He stopped at Granny's every morning for breakfast and went back for lunch, and on Saturday nights he went out with the werewolf girl. (She didn't know the exact nature of the relationship between those two, and she didn't really care. If the librarian had a romantic interest in the wolf, more fool him. Regina had heard what happened to that girl's last boyfriend.)

What Neal Cassidy did not do was drop in, unannounced, at her office on Sunday mornings.

I suppose it can't hurt to see what this is about.

"Send him in," she told her assistant.

Within minutes, Regina was regretting her decision to hear Mr. Cassidy out.

"Excuse me," she said, scowling. "What did you just say?"

"Madam mayor, as I'm sure you're well aware, your son is a very curious and highly intelligent young man," said the librarian.

"Of course I know that," Regina said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. He's my son. No one knows him better than I do. "What exactly is your point?"

"But frankly, he's also very lonely and incredibly bored," Mr. Cassidy said. "He has no real friends at school, he's far ahead in all of classes, and he has very few responsibilities or ways to occupy his time."

How dare he!

"Mr. Cassidy, do you have some kind of problem with how I choose to raise my son?" Who did he think he was?

"Of course not!" At least he had the grace to look embarrassed. "Henry's a great kid. That doesn't happen by accident. I'm sure you're a great mother." He looked so sincere that she knew he wasn't just trying to placate her. He really meant it. In which case…

"Then, I repeat, what exactly is your point?" He clearly hadn't come just to tell her how much he admired her parenting skills, but he also wasn't here to complain about them, either. Which meant there was something he wanted, something to do with Henry.

"I thought he might like helping me out," said Neal.

"Help you with what, might I ask?" This sounded rather suspicious. What kind of help could a nine year old offer? Wait, he's ten now, isn't he? (Keeping track of the passage of time was tricky in Storybrooke, but Regina thought his birthday had been last month.)

"At the library, I mean," Neal explained. "Organizing records, shelving books, that sort of thing. Just for a few hours a week- on weekends, maybe, or in the afternoons, after school."

"And why would you need my son to do your job?" Regina wasn't sure whether she should be offended, annoyed, or just confused. "If you're looking to hire an assistant, we can probably fit that into the budget." Normally, she wouldn't be so lenient, but he was the library's only employee. (Although, the fact that he was suddenly feeling overworked after having no complaints for over a decade was rather troublesome.)

"No, no, nothing like that," Neal waved his hands in a clear no gesture. "I'm perfectly fine, Mayor Mills. But I think it might be good for Henry."

"Explain." She really didn't like the way this man talked about her son, as though he had somehow been deprived of something.

"A little responsibility goes a long way at that age," he said. "He wants to be relied on, to feel like he's really accomplishing something. And it'll give him something useful to do, keep him out of trouble."

She supposed he might have a point.

But Regina didn't like it. She didn't like the idea of Henry being made to work like that. And she really didn't like the idea of her son spending so much time around a man she knew virtually nothing about. There were other alternatives.

She opened her mouth, about to say 'no.' If Henry really needed something to keep him busy, she could always give him a few more chores around the house, or buy him some puzzle books.

Then she remembered a conversation she'd had with Archie just a few weeks ago, after one of Henry's sessions.

"You're his mother. You're the only parent he's ever had. That's his frame of reference. So when he feels like there's something missing, something else he needs, a role in his life that's been left empty, the only way he can understand it is that another mother might be able to fix it. He doesn't have anything else to compare to."

"Are you saying I'm not a good enough mother for my son?"

"No, of course not. Regina, you're a wonderful mother. But he is missing something, and the older he gets the more he's going to feel it. Maybe what Henry really needs isn't another 'mother,' but a 'father.' Or at least some sort of father-figure, some kind of older male role model, someone to guide him as he grows up."

"Guide him? What kind of nonsense is that? I'm more than capable of any 'guidance' he might need."

"Regina, you're a very capable woman. You can teach him a lot of things. But you can't teach him how to be a man."

At the time, she'd dismissed the whole conversation, insulted at the implication that she wasn't capable of being both 'mother' and 'father.' Eventually, though, she did calm down enough to acknowledge that some kind of male role model might be good for Henry. She'd just assumed Graham and Archie would be enough.

But while Henry got along well enough with the sheriff, they'd never really bonded. She didn't think they'd ever spent time together without her around. And she wasn't sure she wanted Henry to look to the cricket as an example of how an adult was meant to behave.

Regina looked at Neal carefully. True, she didn't know much about him, but from what she'd seen in the past, he was polite, respectful, and generally well-behaved. He had to be intelligent, considering his job.

And he's young.

She didn't know his exact age, but she knew he was in the same age range as the werewolf girl and that trashy maid. Too young for Henry to view as any sort of substitute parent. More like some sort of older brother. (Regina had always wanted an older sibling.) The fact that he was someone her son already knew, and seemed to like being around (if the amount of time he already spent at the library was any indication), couldn't hurt.

But do I really want Henry spending so much time around someone I don't know if I can trust?

Then again, Neal Cassidy was definitely cursed. He was harmless. (If she didn't know that for a fact, she would have had Henry transferred the moment she'd learned who his fifth grade teacher would be.) And she really could use someone to keep an eye on Henry in the afternoons and ensure that he didn't get into any trouble before she got off of work.

"I'll consider it," Regina said. "After I discuss it with my son. And only if you guarantee that you'll supervise him properly, and not give him any more than he can handle."

"Absolutely," said the librarian.

"Do we have a deal, then?" Mayor Mills held out her hand.

Neal paused. A deal? Something about those words bothered him, but he wasn't sure what. I'm sure it's nothing. He took the mayor's hand and shook it.

"We have a deal."

Three days later, Henry walked into the library, put his knapsack in the back room, sat down at a table, and listened carefully as Neal explained the basics of Dewey Decimal System.

At the time, neither of them could have predicted what the consequences of this arrangement would be.