Collateral Damages

NB: I'm writing this episode in something like a TV show format - teaser, four acts, and a tag. Trying to put my degree in fairy tales to some kind of use.

Tag:

He knocked on the doorframe lightly, knuckles rapping against the plastic. Mr. Gold looked up from the book he was reading, his expression softening when he saw him. "Ah, Henry. ...To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The man quirked an eyebrow at the large bouquets of flowers he carried in either arm. "This one's from my mom." He said, gesturing at the campanula he carried. The other was a more standard arrangement of various bright flowers. "This one's from Emma."

"Of course," He said charitably, "Please, place them with the tokens from my other admirers," he said, indicating the single small basket of daisies sitting on the table by the window. Henry glanced at it, recognizing Mary Margaret Blanchard's distinctive, pleasant scrawl. He deposited both of his burdens before pulling the chair by the window over to sit at the bedside.

"How are you feeling?" He asked carefully.

Gold chuckled and gestured at his right shoulder, tightly bandaged, arm in a sling. "Ah, well, you know. It was a clean shot. Nothing vital. But it'll be some time before I can move around under my own steam again."

"I wanted to thank you, for everything that you did," Henry said softly, resting both his hands on the side of the bed.

The man's mouth worked into a brief, quirked smile. "It was really nothing."

"It was brave."

He looked up then, eyes widening as he searched the boy's face. His next smile was more self-depreciative. "Not really. Anyone would have done the same."

"Still. You did your best to protect me. So I wanted to thank you."

He nodded. "You're very welcome, Henry Mills." He turned to glance out the window, where yet more snow swirled across the rooftops. "And how have you been fairing? Doing well, I hope."

"I've had some bad dreams," He admitted, looking down at his hands. "My mom's making me see Archie like every day."

"Perhaps that's for the best."

"I guess so." He glanced up again, still keeping his head down. "Are you going to be okay? I mean... Not just your arm and stuff."

He snorted, flexing the fingers of his left hand, studying the IV inserted there with an overly deliberate interest. "I suspect I'll survive. I'm rather good at that."

"I'm glad." Henry replied.

They sat in a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft clicking of the machine by the bedside and the sweep of wind outside the glass.

"You were wrong, you know," Henry said finally, fingers playing now with the edge of his scarf.

Mr. Gold looked up, expression inquisitive.

"You said it was wrong to need people - that relying on people makes you weak. That's not always true. We relied on Emma, and she saved us."

Gold chuckled faintly, looking down at his body in the hospital bed, eyebrow arched, "More or less."

"My point is that it's okay to need other people, Mr. Gold."

He shook his head sadly. "Not everyone deserves to, though."

Henry leaned on the bed again, crossing his arms to look up at him, perplexed.

He returned his attention to the window, silent for a while, before clearing his throat. "...You asked me before what my favorite fairy story was. I don't have one. But there is one I'm familiar with. Do you know the story of the King of Golden Mountain?"

Henry shook his head.

"Yes, well. It's a German tale. One of Grimm's. It's about an ordinary man who goes on an extraordinary journey, where he finds an enchanted castle and frees a beautiful princess from a spell and becomes a king. Ordinary enough for those kinds of tales, but it doesn't end there. Oh, no.

"You see, the man loves his wife, and together, they have the most beautiful son. And the man gets to thinking that he misses his own parents. He plans to visit them, using a magic ring. But before he goes, his wife warns him not to bring her or their son there with his magic, or they will be lost to him forever. He disobeys her, and wishes her before his parents so they can see what sort of man he's become.

"His wife, angry, leaves him. When he finally makes his way back to the Golden Mountain, he finds a wedding feast in progress and learns that she is about to replace him with another husband. In a rage, he uses his magic abilities to kill everyone there. The guests. His wife. His beautiful son. And so he sits alone on his throne - the King of Golden Mountain."

Henry regarded him for a long time, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he reached over to pat the man's hand gently. "You're not a bad person, Mr. Gold."

He smiled mirthlessly. "And what would you know of that?"

"I know."

"...Off you go," He said finally. "I need my beauty sleep."

Henry nodded and got to his feet, pushing the chair back from the bed, but not entirely against the wall where it had been. He hesitated in the doorway. "...Would it be all right if... if I came back to see you tomorrow?"

Mr. Gold gave another one of his many smiles, this one sad, but also warm, touched. "Yes, I think I'd like that, thank you."

Nodding, the boy opened the door and let himself out. In the hallway, Emma leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, studying the floor. She looked up when the door opened, face caught between relief and concern. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Henry said, pulling back on his mittens.

Emma gave one last look in the direction of the open door, smiling slightly, nodding at the man in the bed. Mr. Gold nodded back and closed his eyes, head resting against the pillows.

She turned back to her son, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. "Did he like the flowers?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good. That's good."

AN:

Thanks, everyone who has been reading this. I'll be starting another story soon, which will be a bit different than this one. I've gotten such wonderful feedback on this, and I appreciate everyone who favorited and/or reviewed. I like getting prompts from people, so if you ever have an idea you'd like to see explored, drop me a line, and maybe we can get something together!