Author's note:

Hi guys. Thanks so much for giving this a click. To my old readers: sorry, I know I usually write Snilly. BUT to anyone who likes OUAT, I really hope you enjoy this fic. It's my first time with these characters so I can really, really use your feedback. Way more romance/drama/ Rumbelle to come.

Recreation

The hall, although long, had the type of narrow width and low-hanging ceiling that caused someone even as small as Henry to feel trapped within its confines. The air smelt strange, dank. And there was something about this darkness that seemed to morph every distant brick into something blurry and hideous.

So Henry knew immediately that this was not the sort of place that anyone would visit by choice.

Regardless, he decided to venture deeper into the asylum. His imagination leaped with all the possible characters that could be hidden in this place.

The key he'd stolen from Regina's purse was heavy in his pocket. The jangling sound of it echoed off the stone walls.

Henry figured that now he had to guess—so, fully aware of the dangers that might ensue, he took out the key and began testing it in every lock.

"Well, Gold, seems like you're free to go," Emma mumbled as she opened the door to his cell.

The older man, who had been sitting silently for some time now, looked up at her with as much ease as ever. His long face and deep eyes portrayed nothing but indifference, and he replied, "Shame. I was just beginning to feel at home."

Emma handed him his cane, and he rose slowly. "You should be feeling thankful that this was just your first offence. Next time, you'll be getting a lot more than just community service."

"Assuming there's a next time," he answered coolly.

"Yeah, well, we might be seeing a lot of each other if Mr. French decides to press charges—wait, where'd you get that?"

Her attention turned toward the gleaming piece of porcelain in his hands.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Miss Swan," he said as he began to turn away.

"I'm sheriff, and it's my concern to see what criminals are walking in and out of jail with."

Gold spun around to face her. "No need for dismay," he said, holding the object up. "I don't think I can do very much harm with a simple teacup."

Emma, taking a swift glance at his cane, said, "Yeah, well, you'd be surprised how ordinary objects can be misused."

"It's a cup, Sheriff."

Emma found his possession very curious. Its arrival in his cell and its apparent importance made her wonder. But it was, after all, just a cup.

"I… I think you should go now, Mr. Gold."

"As you wish, Miss Swan."

So his slender frame disappeared out the door. Emma watched; even with the limp in his step, he moved with an odd sort of swagger.

Before Emma had time to think of much else, the phone went off at her desk. She answered on the second ring.

"Hello, Storybroke's Sherriff Office."

"Yes, Sherriff," came the familiar, bitter tone.

"Mayor?"

"Where is he?" she asked, "Is he with you?"

"Do you mean Gold because he just left—"

"For Christ's sake, I'm talking about Henry."

Emma paused. She starred down at her cluttered desk. "What?"

"He disappeared from his room after we did some errands this afternoon. I thought maybe he'd be…"

"He's not," Emma cut in. "But I'll call Mary to check if he's there. Or maybe the park."

"You don't think I've already tried that?" Regina replied. "I swear, for a sheriff, you're—"

"I'll find him," said Emma immediately. And the line went dead.

The door unlocked with a loud thud. Henry, holding his breath, stepped inside. Part of him expected a man that looked like Captain Hook or some kind of hideous ogre. But no.

A petite woman was curled in the corner, frizzy haired and drained-looking. She peered up at him with empty, blue eyes.

"Hi," said Henry.

"You're new," she said.

Encouraged by her detectable sanity, Henry walked inside and closed the door behind him.

"My name's Henry," he said, smiling. "My mom comes here a lot, doesn't she?"

The woman's expression turned hard as stone. "Oh, you're with her."

"No, no I'm not," he said quickly. "I want to help you."

Henry knew he had to maneuver himself carefully. Although he didn't exactly know what Regina was involved in, he was confident it had something to do with the curse. He couldn't wait to tell Emma all about it.

The woman was staring at him, as if in disbelief.

"You should go," she said. "I'm dangerous."

"You are?" he asked. But he sat down on the stone floor beside her anyway.

"That's what you're mother says, at least. I'm deranged." She laughed a little to herself in a very pretty way.

Henry, encouraged, said, "That's okay. She sort of thinks the same about me."

The woman met his gaze directly, smiled a little more, but said nothing.

"Do you get many visitors?" he asked.

She turned her head and starred at the far wall absently. "No, just the one."

"Then it must get pretty lonely."

"Well that's alright, Henry. I'm quite use to this provincial life."