Didn't Know I Was Lost
Mar. 20th, 2014 03:52 pm![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ceiphiedknightHenry thought that Storybrooke was weird.
He liked to think of himself as mature and good-natured (his mom often complimented him on those features) so he didn't want to let on that he felt uneasy in the small town; but the truth of the matter was that Storybrooke kind of freaked him out.
First there were his mom's friends, Mary Margaret and David. David hadn't been around much because apparently he was the Sheriff, but Mary Margaret had hovered over him and doted on him to the point where he felt like he was being stifled by an over-attentive grandmother rather than someone who had done jail time with his mom.
Then there was the librarian. She was young and pretty, but her too-big smile when he'd walked in was a bit confusing. It was as if she recognized him from somewhere. Then, when she realized she'd been smiling, it was as if she forced herself to stop and then treated him in a way that was very aloof. Mary Margaret had picked out a large book of fairytales for him, which Henry actually thought was pretty lame, but he'd smiled politely and taken it. He hadn't even opened it yet.
The waitress at the diner, too. She'd known that he liked cinnamon on his hot chocolate, and he could have sworn that she'd started to call him by name. But he was sure he'd remember her if they'd met before. She was hot.
Then there was the dark haired woman who gawked at him like he was the lunch special or something. She wanted to show him around town and buy him ice cream, which was cool, but the way she always stared at him was bizarre. More than anything, though, was the weird tingling in the back of his mind that made her feel familiar. Not quite deja vu, but also not quite like trying to recall a dream. It was like a pinching sensation behind his eyeballs that made him think he should know the woman...what was it, Regina? Yeah, that he should know Regina. But of course that was impossible.
The weirdest of all, of course, was the strange man who had ridden with them from New York.
His name was Killian, which sounded like a freak name from another century, but he also dressed in all leather and said things like "mate" and "love" like he thought he was Jack Sparrow or something. Henry couldn't figure the guy out, but his mom seemed comfortable with him and had things well in hand, so he didn't worry about it too much. But since arriving in Storybrooke, he hadn't even seen the guy. Henry found himself wondering what had happened to this supposed client of his mom's.
He didn't like questioning his mom, because she'd always been honest and up front with him about everything. When he was old enough, she'd told him all about his dad leaving her and how he'd been born in jail. It wasn't that shocking, considering how his mom was with men and considering her job.
But he couldn't shake the feeling that this trip to Storybrooke was more than meets the eye. A long lost feeling was beginning to curl its way up from the pit of his stomach.
Curiosity.
Henry thought that if his mom didn't tell him what was really going on soon, he'd do some investigating on his own.
After all, what could possibly go wrong in such a sleepy little town?
He liked to think of himself as mature and good-natured (his mom often complimented him on those features) so he didn't want to let on that he felt uneasy in the small town; but the truth of the matter was that Storybrooke kind of freaked him out.
First there were his mom's friends, Mary Margaret and David. David hadn't been around much because apparently he was the Sheriff, but Mary Margaret had hovered over him and doted on him to the point where he felt like he was being stifled by an over-attentive grandmother rather than someone who had done jail time with his mom.
Then there was the librarian. She was young and pretty, but her too-big smile when he'd walked in was a bit confusing. It was as if she recognized him from somewhere. Then, when she realized she'd been smiling, it was as if she forced herself to stop and then treated him in a way that was very aloof. Mary Margaret had picked out a large book of fairytales for him, which Henry actually thought was pretty lame, but he'd smiled politely and taken it. He hadn't even opened it yet.
The waitress at the diner, too. She'd known that he liked cinnamon on his hot chocolate, and he could have sworn that she'd started to call him by name. But he was sure he'd remember her if they'd met before. She was hot.
Then there was the dark haired woman who gawked at him like he was the lunch special or something. She wanted to show him around town and buy him ice cream, which was cool, but the way she always stared at him was bizarre. More than anything, though, was the weird tingling in the back of his mind that made her feel familiar. Not quite deja vu, but also not quite like trying to recall a dream. It was like a pinching sensation behind his eyeballs that made him think he should know the woman...what was it, Regina? Yeah, that he should know Regina. But of course that was impossible.
The weirdest of all, of course, was the strange man who had ridden with them from New York.
His name was Killian, which sounded like a freak name from another century, but he also dressed in all leather and said things like "mate" and "love" like he thought he was Jack Sparrow or something. Henry couldn't figure the guy out, but his mom seemed comfortable with him and had things well in hand, so he didn't worry about it too much. But since arriving in Storybrooke, he hadn't even seen the guy. Henry found himself wondering what had happened to this supposed client of his mom's.
He didn't like questioning his mom, because she'd always been honest and up front with him about everything. When he was old enough, she'd told him all about his dad leaving her and how he'd been born in jail. It wasn't that shocking, considering how his mom was with men and considering her job.
But he couldn't shake the feeling that this trip to Storybrooke was more than meets the eye. A long lost feeling was beginning to curl its way up from the pit of his stomach.
Curiosity.
Henry thought that if his mom didn't tell him what was really going on soon, he'd do some investigating on his own.
After all, what could possibly go wrong in such a sleepy little town?
