Red Rebellion

Chapter 11

Up until now, I've tried my absolute hardest to work with Adam and Eddy. I must however oblige in this one circumstance. I am taking some authorial rule and disregarding canon just this once:

Peter Pan is NOT Rumplestiltskin's father in this story.

There was one measly slice of pumpkin pie left in the tray. The rest of the dishes had been cleaned down to the lasting bread crumbles. Thanksgiving had breezed by, leaving every guest in the Charming castle satisfied and regretful once all the food had been eagerly consumed. The children had run upstairs almost an hour ago. Henry, slowly weaseling himself out of the "child" category, sat beside Regina and Neal with a wide smile of contentment.

"This is so sad." Despite his claim, Henry grinned widely with excitement. "This is my last Thanksgiving living in the Enchanted Forest."

Killian frowned, "When are you off to the University?"

"I'm taking a tour this Saturday," Henry took a quick sip of ice water, "then there's the challenge of applying and actually getting in. If I'm on top of all my school work in October, I might think about early admissions."

Rumplestiltskin shriveled his nose, "I still don't see why you want to attend a public school." The majority of adults let out huffs of aggravation. "Getting you through Harvard admissions would be no trouble at all."

"We've been over this," Henry turned from Rumple over to Regina, who shared the same distaste for public universities, "If I'm going to get the experience to run a kingdom, I have to learn to work with all kinds of people. Boston University seems like a better fit."

"It's a great school," Neal nodded in support. "All that really matters is that you end up happy with the decision, Henry."

David scratched the back of his head, "Plus you'd be in Boston. I can already tell that James is a city boy just from that one visit we made over the summer."

"He's only six years old," Snow beamed and took her husband's hand. "Let's not rush with this one, okay?"

"Speaking of which," Killian casually searched around the room and under the table, "where are the little devils?"

"Upstairs," Emma smiled while stirring her coffee. "They're telling scary stories again."

"Aww," Belle smiled adoringly, "poor Adam."

Emma laughed and leaned back into her chair, "Poor Adam?"

"He acts tough in front of Elizabeth and James, but he actually doesn't take to the stories very well. I was awake half the night last time the children played this game."

Rumple shifted his posture in his seat uncomfortably. "Adam can handle folklore," he grumbled possessively over her son's reputation. Belle looked over at Emma with a knowing motherly smile.

"I remember the last time they did this, the two boys couldn't frighten Elizabeth to save their lives," David laughed and took a large gulp of his coffee. "James wanted me to read him ghost stories for bedtime so he'd be better prepared next time."

Killian leaned back into his chair with a proud smirk when suddenly, a sharp high-pitched scream pierced through the hallway leading into the dining room. It was twisted, almost sounding inhuman, to reflect the genuine fear from its owner. Killian immediately felt his stomach drop when associating the recognizable youthfulness in the scream as his daughter's. Neither Killian nor Emma hesitated before bounding out of their chairs.