"Neal! Are you coming out with us tonight?"

Neal Cassidy glanced up from his desk towards Roger Stegman, who was leaning against his doorframe eagerly. Roger was a good sort of coworker, the kind that was willing to help you fix your mistakes, chat with you in the break room, and tell you if birthday cake was being served on one of the floors. It was around 3:47 PM on a Friday afternoon, and the employees of Heidelberg Associates were getting antsy.

"Nah," Neal stretched a little. "Think I'm just gonna go home. Maybe next time."

"C'mon, Neal," Roger complained. "You're a freakin' workaholic. Tax season's over, cut loose a little!"

Neal shrugged. "Gotta pay the bills," He grinned. He turned back towards his Excel sheet, but apparently that was not enough of a dismissal.

"We're going to Paige's," Roger pressed. "Best bar in town. Lots of pretty girls! You know, Naomi in marketing has been talking about you a lot. She'll probably be there if she knows you're going."

Neal twisted his lips. "Maybe next time."

"All right then," Roger said good-naturedly. "You shouldn't drink alone, you know!" He exited Neal's office in something of a huff and Neal smiled.

Perhaps he should break down and join them. It's not like he was a loner by any means—he joined his coworkers for after work drinks all the time. Most of the bars around here knew him on sight. Neal sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, considering. Every time he tried to gain motivation to go, something sunk in his gut.

By the time 5:00PM rolled around, Neal had come to a decision. Not this weekend. He was going to pick up some Chinese takeout, a six pack, and call it a night. There ought to be something mindlessly distracting on TV.

It was one of those perfect October days that made Neal glad he didn't drive much, as he turned on his iPod and pressed shuffle. It had been a brisk walk this morning, but the cool wind felt good as he stepped out of Heidelberg, heading towards the Subway.

He waved idly towards his friends that were headed towards Paige's but continued on his route, stopping at a newsstand for a cup of coffee. He glanced at a magazine and jolted a little at the date—October 22nd.

Neal exhaled. Today was Emma's birthday.

His stomach lurched. She had turned 28…where was she? What was she doing right now? Was she all right? Happy? In love with someone who deserved her?

Neal cleared his throat, trying to stave off the guilt and waves of sadness. He hadn't heard from August in several years—no updates on if Emma was all right, if she needed any more money, if she was safe.

His iPod began to play "Born to Run", by Bruce Springsteen—it was a little too apt. He pressed skip and "Charley's Girl" came on. Satisfied, he continued to head back to his apartment, trying not to think of Emma.

There would probably never be a moment where he didn't love her, Neal thought to himself as he unlocked the door to his apartment. He tossed his black messenger bag on the couch and went to the fridge, pulling out a beer. He winced, remembering he'd forgotten to pick up a six-pack—he was down to one drink left. Sighing, he picked up his cell phone and ordered garlic chicken and egg drop soup, flicking on the television.

Disney's Peter Pan was on. Rolling his eyes, he changed the channel quickly and found a suitably boring documentary on ancient Arab trade routes. Twenty minutes in, his Chinese arrived, and he ate quietly.

Dull, Neal thought to himself. But familiar. Normal. Maybe someday he would find someone, a nice girl that would make him forget about Emma—someone who had no connection to his past, to the world he ran from. No destiny, no magic, no pirates, no curses…just blissful monotony.

His eyes began to flicker and Neal fell asleep.

XXXX

There was a knock at the door.

Neal grunted in his sleep. The knock became more persistent and Neal forced himself up, slouching to the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," He muttered, opening it wide. He blinked at a young boy who grinned up at him eagerly.

"Hey—you need something?" Neal asked, a little perplexed. As far as he knew, there were no kids in his apartment complex.

"Are you Neal Cassidy?" The kid asked.

"Yeah," Neal rubbed his eyes.

"My name's Henry," The kid said cheerfully. "I'm your son!"

Neal stared at him. "What?!"

Henry paid no heed, sidling past him and entering the apartment. Neal watched him, his mind swimming frantically.

"Look—I think you made a mistake, kid," Neal tried to say. "I don't have a son."

"Ten years ago, were you ever with a woman named Emma Swan?" Henry demanded, folding his arms over his chest.

Neal's heart stopped.

"That's my mom," Henry explained. "She's hard to find though, she moves around a lot. But you've been in one place for a while and it was a cheaper deal to get to New York than Boston."

"But—Emma and me—we never had a kid!" Neal spluttered.

"Would you know if you did?" Henry queried skeptically and Neal ran his fingers through his hair. It was impossible—he couldn't—Emma would've told him if she were pregnant, wouldn't she? She'd never keep this from him, she'd never…

He stood, rooted to the spot. He'd left her. He'd abandoned her while she was pregnant. Immediately, rage coursed through his veins—August. Did August know about this? Was this all part of some screwed up plan?!

"Yum," Henry had helped himself to a spare crab rangoon. "Do you have any juice?"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Neal attempted to halt the situation as Henry strode to his fridge, taking out a large jug of apple juice. "You're—you're Emma's kid? Does she know you're here?!"

Henry shook his head. "She gave me up for adoption," He said calmly. There was a shadow in Henry's gaze that Neal felt familiar with. This kid was lonely. He felt abandoned by those he loved. Isolated.

"Okay, where are your adoptive parents?" Neal wanted to know. "Do theyknow you're here?"

Henry raised and lowered one shoulder. "I need your help finding Emma," He announced. "And then I need you both to come with me to Storybrooke."

"What's the matter?" Neal wanted to know. "You okay?"

"I am," Henry said slyly. "But we need Emma. We need Emma to break the curse!"

"Break the…" Neal stilled. Rivulets of ice crept into his veins as he thought of who created the curses. His voice grew serious. "What are you talking about?"

Henry lit up. "You believe me!"

"I didn't say that," Neal said quickly. "But—what are you talking about."

Henry shrugged off his backpack, busily unzipping it and pulling out a storybook. He flipped through the pages and Neal caught several familiar faces—Snow White, Prince Charming, Red Riding Hood—there was one that almost liked like him as a young boy…

"Every story in this book is true," Henry said solemnly. "It actually happened." He handed the book to Neal, who gently flipped a page. He hadn't imagined it—an illustration of young Baelfire, a look of terror on his face…

"Emma's in this book," Henry explained and Neal wondered if this kid knew that he was in it too. "See?" There was an illustration of an infant, swaddled in a blanket.

Neal looked closely. "I recognize that blanket—that belonged to Emma. It was her baby blanket."

Henry looked excited. "See!" He crowed. "It is true!"

Neal shook his head in agitation. "Hang on. You're telling me—the people in this book," He avoided saying 'the Enchanted Forest'. "Are here? In this world?"

"In Storybrooke," Henry affirmed. "Time is frozen there, though. The Evil Queen cursed the Enchanted Forest and now everybody who lived there is in Storybrooke. Stuck in that town, forever."

Neal swallowed. A curse…curses were his father's realm of expertise. If Henry was telling the truth, it was possible…it was possible Rumplestiltskin was in Storybrooke. Unless he'd taken precautions to avoid such a curse—he was the king of loopholes…

Henry was watching him anxiously. "Nobody knows who they are," He said urgently. "They've forgotten! No one grows older, no one changes, everything stays exactly the same. I'm the only one who even goes up a grade. And—"

"Your adoptive parents," Neal broke in. "They're there?"

Henry coughed. "Yeah. My mom. She's the Evil Queen."

There was a slight pause as Neal processed this. It had been hundreds of years since he'd been in the Enchanted Forest—most of the names in Henry's storybook were unfamiliar to him. He recognized the Blue Fairy, his father,himself…but the Evil Queen?

"She doesn't love me," Henry stared at his feet. "She only pretends to. She'sevil."

Neal felt a painful stab of kinship.

"Has she hurt you?" He asked gruffly.

"She tries to make me think I'm crazy," Henry sighed. "The whole town is under her control. No one can leave. Everyone's happy endings are taken away. And the only way to save everyone is to find Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter—Emma—to break the curse, and set everyone free!"

Neal coughed. "You're saying Emma is the daughter of Snow White?"

Henry nodded. Neal felt slightly sick. He fingered the storybook, considering. What would this mean? Suppose they did find her, suppose they did go back to Storybrooke. What then? Would he have to face his father? Didn't August say that being with Emma got in the way of her destiny?

But could he leave Henry at the hands of some evil witch?

Neal sighed, rubbing his temples. Henry watched him carefully.

"You're taking this better than I expected," Henry said suspiciously. "You believe me?"

"I wish I didn't," Neal said quietly. "But I don't think you're lying." His lips twisted as he turned a page, showing Rumplestiltskin cackling towards Snow White.

Henry cocked his head. "Why?"

"Because I'm in here too."

XXXX

It was hard to figure out how much Henry should know. In the space of a few seconds, Neal's life had completely changed, everything he had run from and left behind had burst through his door, on the heels of a precocious ten-year-old. There could be no more running, no more hiding from his past. But that didn't mean Henry had to suffer as he had suffered.

"I wish you'd just tell me already," Henry complained as they sped down the highway, en route to Boston. "I'm gonna find out anyway. I'm resourceful."

"I don't doubt it," Neal said grimly. He had no idea how a ten-year-old managed to travel all the way from Maine to New York under the nose of an apparent wicked queen.

"Let's just say it might be dangerous for you to know who I am," Neal explained, fingers tightening on the wheel. "Just call me Neal for now."

Henry was quiet for a moment. "Can't I…can't I call you, Dad?" He requested hesitantly and Neal's heart lurched. "I mean, I do have a Mom, and I don't want to freak out Emma any more than we're already going to. But I've never had a dad. It's been just me and Mom for as long as I can remember."

Something unfamiliar warmed in Neal's chest. "If you want to," Neal said quietly.

"Great!" Henry grinned. "I can't wait to see Emma, though. I wonder if she's like how I imagined her…"

Neal coughed. "Yeah, that is something we're gonna have to talk about," He said, tapping his fingers on the wheel impatiently. "We're gonna have to pull a little con. You with me?"

"A con?" Henry blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Emma is not gonna be happy to see me," Neal said frankly. "And probably won't be happy to see you either. If we both tell her we have to bring her to an enchanted town to save everyone, she won't come. Especially because I'm with you."

"Hm," Henry said thoughtfully. "The hero never believes in the beginning. Well, you did, but—"

"I'm no hero," Neal sighed, thinking of how he abandoned Emma. "We'll have to play this carefully."

Henry cocked his head curiously. "Why won't she be glad to see you?" He asked. "Bad breakup?"

"Something like that," Neal sighed again. "We'll be lucky if she doesn't slam a door in our face."

"I'll make her listen," Henry said confidently. "I'll say that if she doesn't come with us, I'll tell the police you and her kidnapped me."

Neal blanched at the terribly believable lie. This really was his kid.

"All right, well in that case, we're gonna act like you blackmailed me into seeing her," Neal said decidedly. "That you wanted both of us to come to Storybrooke and this was the only way. So when we get there, I'm gonna act like I don't believe you about the town. Otherwise, Emma's just gonna think I've gone crazy."

Henry nodded slowly. "I gotcha," He said, stretching a little. "That's smart. You're good at cons!"

Neal laughed. "Honestly, kid, I never thought I'd be running one again," He ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. "Once you go square, you don't wanna go back…"

"Right," Henry took a sip of a large gulp soda that Neal had bought at the first gas station they'd filled up at. "How long till Boston?"

"A while," Neal's heart fluttered and he stepped on the gas.

XXXX

It was around 9PM when they finally arrived on the doorstep of a sleek, modern apartment complex. Neal heaved a deep breath, trying to calm his jitters.

He was going to see Emma again. After all this time…did she hate him?

"C'mon!" Henry said cheerfully, grabbing his hand. Henry had had a luxurious nap in the car and was now thoroughly energized as he fairly dragged Neal into a glass elevator. He pressed the button on the top floor, cheerfully humming something that sounded like a Disney song while Neal tapped his foot anxiously.

"You sure are nervous," Henry remarked, noting Neal's agitation.

"I told you," Neal sucked in his breath. "We didn't exactly part well."

Henry twisted his mouth a little. "Why did you break up?"

"It's a long story," Neal muttered. "Listen. When we get to her door, you're gonna have to be the one to knock and introduce yourself. I'll wait a little to the side. If she sees me straight off, she's liable to slam the door and refuse to even hear you out. Once she knows who you are…then grab me."

"No problem," Henry said confidently. The elevator doors opened and they stepped out. Henry found the apartment immediately—apartment 815.

"You're on, kid," Neal gingerly touched his shoulder and Henry grinned. Neal stepped out of sight, watching Henry knock on the door.

After a few moments, the door opened—and there she was.

She hadn't changed. Older certainly, but the same guarded features, the same beautiful blonde hair, the same stormy blue eyes. She stared at Henry in some confusion and asked what he wanted. After confirming her identity, Henry brightly introduced himself—just as he'd done at Neal's apartment, hours before.

The shock and fear on Emma's face was evident. Henry queried if she'd given up a child for adoption ten years ago—from the look on Emma's face, her answer was clear.

"We need to get going," Henry told her firmly. "All of us. Right, Dad?" He called over his shoulder.

If Neal had seen terror on Emma's face from confronting the child she gave up for adoption, it was nothing compared to the horror in her eyes as he stepped into view. She fell backwards against her door, completely at a loss.

"Hey, Emma," Neal said quietly. "Looks like we got some catching up to do."