"So the nightmares are getting worse?"

        I nodded.

        "What do you think makes them worse, the emotions and fear of the dream, or the authenticity?" I'd gotten used to Dr. Hopper's use of big words. Authenticity was a word he used a lot with Henry and I, to help us decipher the real from the fantasy.

        "I think the fact that it feels so real makes me more scared. I'm not just watching memories go by like a movie, I'm reliving them. When bad things happen, or painful things, I can actually feel that pain, even if I don't fully understand why."

        "And your last dream was at Mayor Mills house?" He clarified. I nodded. "Do you remember it clearly? Look back and see the little details like you're still there? Or is it bits and pieces?"

        I don't know if Archie asks these questions to entertain me or to actually understand how I see things. I don't think he believes Henry and I about our fairytale theory, though he still treats my dreams like I'm actually a psychic glimpsing into a past life.  "I can remember it exactly as Luna saw it. If she didn't notice something, I probably didn't either. I can go through the events as well as any other life threatening experience I've had in Storybrooke. Dad was helping Ursula fulfill her dream to travel the world and sing. Her father, Poseidon, wasn't happy. Dad betrayed Poseidon and Poseidon attacked us. I pulled into the water as if it had a mind of its own. No matter how hard I tried to swim back up, it just kept pulling me down." I tried to put myself back into the memory, replaying the most important parts. "It was so real, Archie. I felt myself drowning. I could feel the water filling my lungs. It burned so bad. I really tried to hold my breath and swim up, but it wasn't doing anything. I could feel Luna's fear but I also felt her disappointment. She thought she would have more time. She didn't want to die so young. She wanted to travel with her dad and sail. The irony was painful for her. She was so mad at herself for letting the sea, of all things, be what ended her."

        "Do you think Luna passed out after that?"

        "I think so. After a few seconds, she started seeing colors that shouldn't have been there. Deep purples and pinks and reds, and bright colors like yellow and orange. Before everything went black, there was a shimmering mermaid tail. That's when I woke up. I went from choking on water, flailing hopelessly underwater to suddenly sitting in Henry's room in my pajamas. It was crazy. It felt like I was living a second life. I go to sleep and I become a new person."

        "Mayor Mills said you were almost reenacting that dream on the outside."

        "I guess. Henry said I was choking on nothing, swallowing more and more air and only coughing and choking more."

        "Have you ever had this happen before? The drowning?"

        "No. But when the visions get too intense or emotional, I wake up crying. My dad tells me that I've had anxiety attacks because what happens is out of my control. I can't help the girl in my dreams. I can't even make the dreams stop. The whole thing is so overwhelming."

        "Sounds like it."

        "Do you have trouble falling asleep?"

        "Not usually. I'm usually just scared when I wake up. It goes away during the day. Sometimes I get scared that I'll have more visions like that though. I just have to calm down to go to sleep. Sometimes, my dad will read me bedtime stories. Henry reads me comics and talks to me."

        "What do you talk about?"

        "Lots of things, things that make me happier. We talk about our favorite editions and the newest selections. We talk about space and dinosaurs, just things that we don't know. They make us wonder and we use our imagination to make up stories about aliens and  things and . . . and. . . I don't know. It just makes me feel a bit more open, less scared."

        "That's good." He continued to write things down for my file. How often do you have these anxiety attacks?"

        "Well, it used to be once every couple of months then it started happening more. A couple times a month, now it's a couple times a week. And the fact that it's happening so often now, makes me feel even worse."

        "I can imagine. Well, I think that with how common your anxiety attacks are becoming, we need to do something to control it. You can talk to your dad about a few options. You could go on a medicine that will help control your anxiety, but because you are still pretty young, I think it's better that we try to focus on more natural ways of relieving your anxiety. When you wake up from having these visions, I need you to focus on what's around you. For example, the night you stayed over with Henry. It will be difficult, but I need you to realize that even if the fairy tale theory is correct and these dreams are real, you're currently living somewhere else. Luna isn't seen as real in this reality. McKinley is the only person people around you see and you need to focus on McKinley's needs. Does that make sense to you?"

        I nodded. The clock chimed, meaning Henry and I's shared appointment needed to start.

        "Are you ready for your joint session? I'm sure Henry wouldn't mind if we went a few minutes over."

        "I'm okay. I'm going to try the thing you talked about. Separate McKinley from Luna and focus on making sure I'm okay."

        "All right. Sounds like a plan. Same thing next week? Running into your session with Henry?"

        "If you can pull it off again."

        "All right, then," he smiled and penciled me in on his schedule. He brought Henry in and our appointment got off to a rough start. Henry spoke of his new evidence, part of it about my dream, proudly defending our theory. Which led to us getting defensive when Dr. Hopper suggested that we might find our lives boring or stressful so we choose to make it into something that it isn't.

       Henry and I find it oddly entertaining to lay ourselves out on the couch like people in movies do when they see therapists. However, the couch is a little too small. So, Henry lays down first and I lay almost on my side, between him and the couch. We find it kind of gross to lay with our feet in each others' faces, because we're kids and we like to play, so our feet aren't always the cleanest. Add this to the list of reasons why people think we're dating.

        I did like Henry more than friends but we have a lot going on right now. His birth mother just came back into his life (even though he was the one that brought her into it in the first place) and we still have a curse to break. And we're too young to date.

        "You weren't always a cricket," Henry stated, playing with my fingers. We weren't holding hands, but we think it's comforting to mindlessly fiddle with the other's fingers.

        "I wasn't al. . . Oh right, because you think I'm Jiminy Cricket. Why. . . Why do you. . . Why do you think that?"

        "It's just because of who you are."

        "And who am I?"

        "You're a conscience. You help people learn right from wrong."

        "So all of the crickets in Storybrooke, they were once people too?"

        "There aren't any crickets here. Listen." Dr. Hopper opened the window to listen. We heard an owl hooting, but no crickets.

        "Maybe it isn't late enough."

        "There's never been any crickets here. You've just never noticed."

        "So you think that's proof there's a curse?"

        "Yes, but I know it's not enough. I'm looking for more."

        "Look, I asked you guys this once before and you said you'd think about it. Why do you think it is so important that this is real?"

        "It. . . it just is." He let go of my hand and laid his head on the arm rest.

        "I want to meet my real father. I know I have Graham, but knowing he's not my real dad just makes it feel. . . wrong. It's not like Graham could love me, the Evil Queen stole his heart. Even so, I know he's not my real dad anyway. Our accents don't even match. He never talks about me having a mom. He's probably convinced that he adopted me or something." Archie looked very pale and nervous, more so than usual. "Graham adopted me. . . I'm ten years old! I'm about to start middle school and he didn't tell me. Why wouldn't he tell me? Did he want me to figure it out on my own?"

       "Even if the Evil Queen took the Graham's heart, that doesn't mean he can't still care about you. Even then, he could still care about your safety and your health. He could be worried that it might cause a reaction like this. He trusts you, he's just worried, as any parent should be."

        As much as I wished it would, Dr. Hopper's pep talk was less than encouraging. It made me question everything. Why did I end up with Graham in Storybrooke? How could Graham mean it when he says he loves me every night before bed, if he doesn't have a heart to love with?

        "All right, well. . . keep thinking about that answer, Henry. Cause I think there's something buried there."

        Suddenly a tremor shook the building and I instinctively grabbed Henry's hand.

        "What was that?" I asked worriedly.

        "I don't know, let's go find out," Henry decided.

        "Wait, guys. It could be dangerous. I know I can't stop you from going but I can stop you from going alone." He drove us to the mines and we pulled up behind the squad car.

        "People of Storybrooke, don't be alarmed. We've always known this area was honeycombed with old mine tunnels, but fear not. I'm going to undertake a project that will make this area safe, to rehabilitate it to city use. We will bulldoze it, collapse it, pave it," Regina announced.

        "Pave it? What if there's something down there?" Henry asked.

        Regina pulled Henry close and whispered harshly to him. Graham confronted me as well. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at Doctor Hopper's for your appointment." He pauses, quickly thinking of what could have happened. "Did you skip your appointment?" He asked, trying to hide his anger. "Regina was kind enough to tell me what happened at her house and help you get that appointment. Why didn't you go?"

        "I did go. In fact, I realized something," I snapped, eager to fight fire with fire. "When were you planning on telling me I was adopted?"

        He paused in shock. He looked around, realizing we were still in public, so I couldn't be punished and our conversation wouldn't be very private. "We'll can talk about that later. You need to leave. It's not safe for you here."

        "You always say we'll talk about it later, this is important! Why didn't you tell me? Am I not mature enough? Did you not trust me? Did you think I would be mad or surprised? Our accents are different and we look nothing alike.

        "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I thought it would make you angry, and I can see you are. We are in public right now. When we get home, we will absolutely talk about this, but right here, right now, is not a good place to do it."

        "I'm not mad. I'm confused. Did you think I wouldn't figure it out? Was it because of our fairy tale theory? Were you convinced that I was too young because of it, Graham?"

        "McKinley Julliette Humbert, have some respect. I may not be your father but I have raised you as if I was. I never starved you, you went to school, you had your own room, in a house with air conditioning and central heating. You never went without. I was very lenient, letting you stay with friends on school nights and staying up late. You live a good life, don't act like a spoiled brat." I glared at him as he lectured me. "Now go wait in Emma's car with Henry. Now!"

        "Fine!"

        "Archie!" Henry called as he got out of the car. "Over here!" Archie and Emma approached.

        Instead of standing by his side, like I normally would, I sat a distance away. Close enough to hear the conversation, but far enough to not let anyone invade my personal space bubble. I could feel my temper rising, angry at Graham for calling me selfish and spoiled. I didn't want to release that on anyone that didn't deserve it.

        "This requires all of Operation Cobra. . . both of you.

        "I didn't realize I was in Operation Cobra," Archie answered.

        "Of course you are, you know everything. We can't let her do this. What if there's something own there?"

        "They're just some old tunnels," Emma denied.

        "That just happen to collapse right after you got here?" I reminded her.

        "You're changing things. You're weakening the Curse," Henry added.

        "That's not what's happening."

        "Yes, it is. Did you do anything different today? Cause something made this happen." Emma fingered her badge at Henry's words.

        "Henry, I told you to wait in the car. Deputy, do your job." Dr. Hopper started to leave but Regina called him back. "Dr. Hopper, a word please?" They walked off and the conversation seemed to get pretty heated. I let Emma take me home and I waited for Graham. I looked through some old photo albums too. None of the pictures of me were younger than seven, at the least. There were pictures of a birthday party of mine, saying I turned nine. Which made me question how Graham and I never noticed time didn't pass. If we celebrated my birthday every year, how did we keep track of my age? How did we not noticed how strung out my age was?

        When he got home, he looked over to where I sat on the couch, sadly flipping through an album.

        "How'd you find out?"

        "Our accents don't match. We don't look anything alike. I looked through the photo albums, there's not one picture where I look any younger than seven."

        "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

        "I'm old enough to know. Why didn't you trust me?" I knew Killian was my father, but for the longest time, I "grew up" believing Graham was. It made me question if Graham had me the entire time we were in Storybrooke. I'm still unsure of how time works here. I should have been brought here the same age I currently am. Did the magic create these pictures?

        "It wasn't that I didn't trust you. I didn't want it to go wrong. I didn't want you to question how much I care about you. It doesn't mean I love you any less." That's not why I think he doesn't love me. He sat down beside me on the couch, pulling me into his lap. "From the moment I first saw you, I knew that you were destined to come home with me. You were the most adorable girl there, frizzy hair and all. You were so tough and independent."

        "How'd you know that I was tough and independent?"

        "Well, a little boy snatched the book you were reading and held it above your head so you couldn't reach it. I don't know what you said but you pointed your finger at him and said something. He stuck his tongue out and said something back. . . then you kicked him in the nads and took back your book." I laughed. "Toughest seven year old I'd ever seen." He smiled at the memory. "But what really sold me was your reaction to getting in trouble. They brought you out because I wanted to talk to you. I asked you what happened and you said he held it over your head and called you names. According to you, he was just jealous that you could read chapter books by yourself while he still couldn't make it though 'Green Eggs and Ham'." He grinned. "You were so confident in yourself even though you tripped over your own feet on the way in. Instead of crying or getting embarrassed when you fell, you just laughed. You were clumsy and adorable and honest and funny, and I couldn't imagine adopting anyone else," he said with tears in his eyes. "I couldn't love you more, even if I was your real dad." He cupped my face and looked into my eyes. "And don't you dare think otherwise."

        I threw myself into his arms and hugged him tightly. I cried quietly into his leather jacket. His usual cologne reminded me of the woods. Being the Huntsman, it wasn't surprising. But the smell was familiar and comforting. Even if he didn't have his heart, he still loved me. He had enough emotion to tear up remembering the day he adopted me. Even if I never see Killian again, Graham will be enough. Graham will be plenty.

        "I love you, Dad," I mumbled happily.

        "I love you, too, Mick. More than you know."