Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1.

The Enchanted Forest. Just before the curse.

He had a visitor. He could hear them speaking lowly with the guard at the end of the tunnel, even if he couldn't make out the voice itself. That was interesting. He never had visitors. Well, he thought with a little giggle, he had a precious few. Regina snuck in every now and again, though with her curse cast he knew he wouldn't see her again until they reached the Land Without Magic. Soon the smoke would fill his lungs and he would remember nothing of this life - of this pain - for the next twenty-eight years. Then he would be on his way to finding his son. He was so close he could almost taste it and that felt like a victory if there ever was one for people like him.

Regina wasn't the only visitor, of course. Snow and her oh-so charming prince had come only once to ask about the curse, and he supposed they counted. He'd gotten what he needed from them, at any rate. Emma. The name of their unborn child that would break the curse he'd spent the last three centuries writing and setting up. Emma. Emma. Emma. What a lovely name. He let another giggle creep up his throat and tumble from his lips as he wrapped his fingers around the bars of his cage and pressed his face against it as if he thought he could slip through.

"The prisoner is in solitary confinement for a reason," the strong voice of Rumplestiltskin's most-constant jailer floated down the rocky hall. Alexander was a tall man that never smiled. He had a military bearing, and even if the jailers under his authority might not know, the Dark One knew he came by it naturally.

Rumplestiltskin perked at the sound of something hitting the ground hard, as if someone of some bulk had collapsed suddenly and without warning. A shuffling sound indicated movement and he pressed his face just a little harder against the bars, straining to see. He hadn't been able to make out the second voice, only Alexander's, and though he had means to escape should he choose, his curse was severely limited within the cage. Even his Sight was spotty and unpredictable. He'd put on a show for the royal couple when they'd come to see him. He'd known most of the details before they'd locked him away. There'd be a girl - flashes of gold hair like her father's and a wit sharp as her mother's - and that she would be the one to break the curse. He just needed to make sure that he knew who he was when she arrived, lest Regina drive her away before he'd set all the pieces into play.

The shuffling drew closer and a smile crept to his lips. It pulled them wide, showing off his rotting teeth and reptilian eyes that showed his darkened soul on the outside. A giggling, mad laugh that always put his jailers on edge bubbled up. "Come closer, dearie," he called to the figure that was rounding the corner. He was a mountain of a man, cloaked in a long robe that reached the toes of his boots and shadowed the features of his face with the hood. He moved in long strides, though there was no hurry to his steps.

"They don't send visitor my way often," the caged Dark One said, his voice pitching up. "What a treat. Do come closer, dearie."

The visitor stepped forward until he was almost near enough for Rumplestiltskin to reach out and touch. He lifted a hand up theatrically, an ornate ring decorating it, and lifted the hood. "Your false madness does not frighten me, Dark One," he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Rumplestiltskin stumbled back in rare surprise, fingers instantly releasing the bars. His golden eyes met the milky white ones that gazed sightlessly at him, the skin around them still scarred from a dangerous and nasty curse that had once made it past his incredible powerful protections. A curse that Rumplestiltskin had cast many, many years before. "Magnus," he breathed the clerics name, finally pulling his control back to himself and he allowed his lips to twitch upward, though the madness he showed the guards day in and day out since his so-called capture was far from that smile. He couldn't be sure what would happen should this come to blows. His magic was only bound within his cage, though getting past the cleric could pose some trouble if he were not at his full potential. "To what do I owe this little visit?" he asked, his voice steadier than he'd really expected it to be.

Magnus leaned closer and he carried power with him as he did. It leapt off him, biting at the Dark One as if warning him what the larger man could do if he so chose. "Your curse has been cast."

Well, he never had been one to hedge around his purpose. "Then you know there's nothing can stop it. You're too late."

"I am aware, though you have failed as well."

"How so?" He'd worked hard to keep Magnus and his clerics from the Land Without Magic. They would remain in the Enchanted Forest where they couldn't get in the way. He wouldn't let these people stop him short of his goal. He wouldn't let them stop him from reaching Bae.

"You are not the only power in this place capable of finding paths not often traveled."

"Speak plainly, Magnus," Rumplestiltskin growled, his temper getting the better of him. He couldn't have found a loophole to come through with him. He couldn't.

The cleric leaned in closely and Rumplestiltskin could feel his magic reaching out, trying to take hold of him, though the wards that kept his own dark magic at bay also weakened Magnus' as well. "We cannot allow you to succeed in your unholy endeavours."

"You know nothing of my endeavours."

Magnus reached out suddenly, his large hand wrapping around Rumplestiltskin's thin neck and he dragged him forward so that he slammed into the bars of his cage, those sightless eyes fixated on him. He didn't need to see him. His magic took care of that for him. "We will meet again, Dark One. On the other side of your curse."

"You found a way through," the caged man whispered.

"You may not know me when we meet, but I will know you, Dark One. I will always know you, and in this land without magic, I will finally be able to destroy you."

Then he was gone, vanished in a swirl of magic and Rumplestiltskin saw the smoke beginning to drift down and through the corridor. It was too late. There was no stopping Mangus or his clerics from coming through, and if he truly had found a way to remember him then he could very likely kill him long before Emma came to wake him up.

The Dark One stumbled back as his curse began to drift into the cell, magic breaking through the wards and shattering them. Power crackled through the air, electric and dangerous. There was no time. There was no stopping them. All that he could do was hope beyond hope that he'd fixed the curse down tightly enough that their memories would be stripped with the rest of them. There was no reason for Regina to betray him to them. No, he thought as the walls of his cage began to shake and crumble around him, they couldn't possibly remember him. He would have a fighting chance, and as long as he had that, he would survive. He always did.

Storybrooke. 2000.

The first and the middle of the month was always the busiest. While a precious few of his renters - which really did cover a good number of the small town's residents - dropped rent checks into his mailslot at the shop, most simply waited until he came around to pick the rent up from them personally. He couldn't imagine why. No one seemed to like him dropping by and it would be so much simpler for them to deliver the money to him rather than make him limp all over town to collect. Habits were a difficult thing to break in Storybrooke though, and most of his tenants had been handling rent collections this way for as long as they could remember, so there really was no reason to change the process now.

That was how Mr Gold found himself limping along the main street as he did every month about this time. He had his own ritual, of course. He started at the earliest hours of the day that he felt he could reasonably find people stirring in their homes, moved to a few of the businesses during the early morning, went back to the pawn shop to open up for a short business day that only saw one or two lookers if he was lucky, and then returned to his collections in the evening. He was wrapping up his morning run when he opened the door to Granny's Diner, gaining a few interested looks as he moved through. Most simply turned back to their lunches, one or two nodded or offered a strained smile, and one little maid took off for the back room in a hurry and avoided any eye contact with him at all.

"Mr Gold," the aging woman that ran both the diner and the inn greeted tightly. "We didn't expect you by till evening. I'll go grab your money from the back."

He wasn't sure why. He came at the same time every month without fail. "Thank you, dear," he answered and took a seat at a corner table with his back to the wall. His gaze swept over the crowd and a frown tugged at his lips. They really were all creatures of habit. He saw the same faces that day that he saw at that time the month before, and the month before that, and the month before that, and so on. Sometimes small town living felt like an endless loop, but Mr Gold wasn't complaining. He rather enjoyed the predictability of it all. He supposed he might not if he held any less power than he did, but he more or less owned the town. Predictability was good for business. No matter how they moaned and complained, his tenants paid - mostly on time with a couple of exceptions. It wasn't as if they had many options in their town.

Ruby moved through the swinging doors from the kitchen with a tray of food balanced on one hand and a menu in the other. She set the tray of food down at a table with Dr Hopper and Marco before moving over to Gold's table. She set the menu down in front of him and pulled a collection of rolled bills from her apron, handing it forward without really meeting his eyes. "It's all there," she promised.

"Yes, of course it is, dear. I'll have the burger and an iced tea if you don't mind."

"I'll get it right out," the young waitress said quickly as she ducked away.

The door chimed and Gold suppressed a groan. That was just one more thing that happened in regular intervals. This one just happened to be once a year when he raised the rent on those damn nuns. One would think that they would see it coming since it was a yearly occurrence, but every year he received the same complaints from their lead nun that made him want to raise it enough to run them out and be done with it. He hadn't done it yet, but the threat always hung heavily between them.

Mother Superior strode in. She seemed to have no trouble finding him though he'd been required to tack the notice to the door that morning because no one would answer the door. It appeared to be the same notice she currently held in her hand. "Mr Gold, if you have a moment?"

"I was actually about to have lunch, but you feel free to barge on in on that."

"Thank you," she said as if she'd never heard sarcasm before in her life. She took the seat opposite from him and pushed the legal document forward. "I'd like you to reconsider this."

"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Mr Gold responded easily and slid it back towards her. "It isn't as if you were unaware that I raise rents every year. I can hardly offer you preferential treatment."

"This is more than usual."

"Then leave, Mother Superior. I don't force you to rent from me. I have several parties that would be more than happy to take on that small a number for the space you have. Not to mention the land."

She scowled at him. "It's a cemetery that we upkeep as part of our duty towards the community."

Mr Gold shrugged as Ruby set his order down in front of him. "Either pay it or don't. If you don't, though, and you don't leave... Well, evictions are a messy business that neither of us have time for. You could always buy the property from me. I'll even include the land in it."

"You know we can't afford that," Mother Superior answered tightly.

"Then shall I be expecting your notice, dear?"

She was fuming at him, but he had her. He knew he did. She wasn't quite the negotiator that she fancied herself with her too-sweet smile and voice that had always struck Gold as fake. "No," she said at last. "We can't take a smaller place, and as you're really the only landlord in town..."

"I'll work up the new lease papers then. Always a pleasure doing business with you." He paused, a smile stretching his lips. "Should I expect you to be dropping off this month's rent now or by the shop later?"

"You're welcome to come by the convent and pick up the money at your convenience," she answered in a snappy voice that hardly invited any feelings of goodwill, and when she stood and straightened her frock, her movements were as agitated as her voice was. "It's a wonder how you get through life as cold as you are, Mr Gold," she snapped. "Perhaps one day your soul will be freed of your selfish and cruel nature."

He snorted, but said nothing as she turned and stormed out of the diner. Well, he supposed that in the grand scheme of things that was likely one of the less-threatening angry responses he'd received. He'd had more than one person yell at him for as long as he'd let them, but it never quite phased him. He'd done business the same as long as he'd lived in Storybrooke, and it had served him well enough all the days he could remember and likely would for all the years that were to come.

Gold had been certain he'd locked the shop when he'd left from it that morning with his list of monies owed, but there was a customer inside pursuing when he walked in. There was no sign of forced entry, not that the tall blond seem to be acting suspiciously while looking through a set of maps folded on a shelf of a cupboard. Instead, he merely looked curious, perusing the different crinkled parchments.

"Can I help you?"

The blond turned, his pale eyes blinking in a startled way. Gold recognized him as Peter Kurtz, one of the few other lawyers in town. He offered a smile after a moment. "Oh. Hello. I suppose I thought you were in the back."

Gold didn't answer right away, but instead did what he could to crush a suspicious sort of feeling down. He didn't have a great deal of knowledge on Kurtz - an oddity, really, as he kept very detailed mental notes on just about everyone - other than that he rented a small, four bedroom house from Gold down by the ocean with three other men that worked in three different jobs across Storybrooke. While the landlord was certain that he'd met each tenant upon move in he couldn't recall their faces now, and the fact that Kurtz handled the rent and dropped by once a year for the updated lease did help to push the others to the back of his memory. As far back as he could recall, though, Kurtz had never been interested in shopping in his pawnshop.

The younger man cleared his throat uncomfortably and fished a thin, white envelope from his inside jacket pocket. "The rent," he explained as he handed it over. "I'm sure if you dropped by this morning you found no one home. We all had an early start today, though I'm sure you don't care to know about all of that."

"Not particularly," Gold agreed as he took the money. "Thank you."

"Of course. Didn't want to be late with it."

Gold had expected him to leave then, but Kurtz remained, eying him in a funny sort of way as if he had a question he was toying with before asking. He pulled in a breath then and locked his hands behind his back, pale eyes focused in. "How many years have we rented from you, Mr Gold?"

The shop owner moved past him, cane tapping against the wooden floor. "Some years now."

"How many?"

He paused at the edge of the display case and turned. "I'm afraid I don't know off the top of my head. I'd have to look at the paperwork."

Kurtz shot him an odd look. "You can't recall even an estimate?"

Gold glared, unsure of what this was really about. "I'm afraid I can't. Come back tomorrow and I'll have the documents lined up for you if it's that important."

The blond was watching him again, but what he was looking for Gold couldn't be sure. "Thank you," he said at last and was gone, leaving him to his solitude and thoughts.

The rest of the day slunk on as it would have any other rent day. Gold remained at the shop, chased off some kids that thought it would be a good idea to try to lift what they must have thought was an expensive figurine, and finally closed up shop around five to start over towards the convent. The sun had already dipped in the mid December sky and left Storybrooke washed in its last lights of the day as Mr Gold pulled his old cadillac to the side of the street and unfolded himself stiffly. The weather was turning colder by the day, and it made his ankle nearly impossible to work with. It stiffened up on him constantly, sending the ache all the way up to his knee and sometimes further. He pushed past it as best he could that evening, deciding that this would be his last stop for the night.

Gold was limping his way to the front porch when he heard a rustling that caught his attention. He turned, startled by the mountain of a man that was moving towards him. It took a moment in the fading light for his eyes to focus, but when they did he saw the cane in the larger man's hand that was stretched out as if looking for obstacles in his path. Gold stood still and the man paused, tilting his head as if he were listening for something. "May I help you with something?" he asked, clearly listening for a response to gage where the visitor was.

"Just Mother Superior," Gold answered gruffly. "She owes rent."

The man went rigid, his expression darkening as he scowled in the landlord's general direction. "Mr Gold then," he said tightly and the smaller man could almost feel the sudden aggression rolling off of him. Apparently nothing kind was said about the nuns' landlord behind his back, because he was very certain he'd never met the man - therefore couldn't have actually done anything to warrant the hostility - standing before him. He was dressed like a groundskeeper, covered in mud from the knees down and is hands were covered in thick gloves as if he'd been down in the muck left after the rainstorm that had swept through the night before.

"Indeed I am," he answered after a moment. "If you'll excuse me?"

He turned, finding the nun in question standing at the top of the stairs leading to the wrap-around porch. She was eyeing him suspiciously, as if she hadn't been the one that told him to drop by for the rent. Finally, she pulled an envelope from her dress pocket and held it out, not bothering to come down the stairs to meet him with it. "Your money, Mr Gold."

Gold didn't dare let him own discomfort show as he hobbled forward and up the few stairs, taking the offered payment. "I'll have a carrier deliver the papers to be signed for the updated lease tomorrow afternoon. I'll need those returned within the week or I'll have to start making preparations to lease the property to someone else."

She continued to glare at him and didn't bother to say a word. A sharp nod was the only indication that she had bothered to listen to him at all and he started back down the wooden steps, waving over his shoulder to a nun that hated him and a man that couldn't see him. He had better things to do with his evenings.

"There are times that I think that man knows exactly who he is and is just toying with us," Mother Superior growled as she watched the cadillac drive away. It was everything she could do to remain civil around that creature.

"He doesn't know," Magnus - though the curse had given him the name Jacob Dawson and had placed him as a man that kept the grounds at the convent for the nuns - said without a shadow of doubt in his voice.

"He seemed to know you. Or at least that he should know you," the Blue Fairy said, brown eyes still glaring in the direction that the Dark One had driven.

"Some fears surpass even time and space," her companion answered ominously. He frowned thoughtfully. "Is everything in place?"

"Yes. I spoke to him just a few hours ago and he understands how precarious the situation is. He won't fail to bring him."

"We need him here, Ruel Ghorm, should we wish to move forward."

"I don't understand why you feel he should be himself for this," the fairy murmured and glanced his way. The question had been pulling on her since he'd asked her to make arrangements.

"Gold is inconsequential. He is a shell. Rumplestiltskin is the true enemy."

"And you think this will bring him around to himself?"

"Yes, I do," Magnis answered gruffly and turned. "We're in this together, Blue. The wheels are turning now and there's no stopping it. Contact me when the little puppet finds the boy."

She nodded before murmuring her acknowledgement. They were indeed in this together, and if all went as it should they would rid the worlds of one of the darkest curses to ever be formed. They could reach their goal, she was sure, as long as Magnus' growing obsession with a single and the most recent Dark One didn't overpower their carefully laid plans.

He had just landed in San Francisco when she contacted him a few days before. It hadn't been the first time she'd reached out to him. That had been about six months before - and he still didn't know how she'd gotten his contact information, much less remembered who he was - and again less than a month ago. That was when she had strongly encouraged him to return to the U.S. The threats hadn't been there then, and they weren't quite there yet, but August Booth knew how to read between the lines. He knew when he was being bullied into something, even if the bully wore a sugar-sweet smile and spoke about all the good that he was doing.

Just because he knew didn't change the fact that it worked.

August sighed as he paid the cabbie and pulled his jacket a little closer around his neck. Portland. Just where he didn't want to be. Why hasn't he just stayed in San Francisco, or better yet, in Europe? He'd been going nonstop since his plane touched down. Blue had given him two names. The first was what he went by and the second was the name she told him would act as proof if he needed it. He would argue, she'd warned, because this young man had been running away for a long time, but she had faith in August that he could make him see reason and, in turn, bring him to Storybrooke. If the fate of everything rested in it, the lead fairy hadn't said as much, but she'd certainly indicated that terrible things would happen should he fail - completely out of her control, of course - but should he succeed she might find a way of restoring him to his father. That damn fluttering sparkle bug had always known how to pull his strings.

Along with the names she'd given him what she said was all the information that she had, including several different locations that she understood that he might be. That had set him off on a trip that left him little time to sleep between the times that he met with contacts that this insanely resourceful fairy that was trapped inside a cursed town in Maine had set up for him. He'd just met with the final one an hour before and he had said that the man August was looking for was at the bar that the cab had just dropped him off at. He had been every other night that week, anyway. It was a good thing that his books were popular because the oldest power for good in the Enchanted Forest had a lot of information without a lot of money to back it up with.

He'd left Paris so fast that he had everything that he owned with him which really wasn't anything more than an old typewriter he lugged around. He'd wanted nothing more than to snag a hotel room and a handful of hours of sleep before going to the last place on his list of places he'd told himself he'd look before calling Blue up and telling her that this guy really was good at running and he was better than either of them would ever find.

August pushed the door open to the little pub and walked inside, taking a corner seat that gave him a good view of the room. It was marginally busy for early evening, but not so busy that he couldn't see people as they entered. He'd found people-watching was incredibly useful, no matter what world you were from, and the little boy that had come through a portal to see strange flying machines and other oddities had made a quick study just to survive.

"Are you who I think you are?"

August blinked, looking up at the pretty waitress that looked like she'd come over to take his order. A slow smile crossed his face. "Depends on who you think I am, I guess."

"August Booth. The writer, right? I knew it! I just started your third book in the Fallen Destiny series! I can barely put it down."

The author in question beamed. "Fourth straight week on the Bestseller list. Not to brag, of course."

"Would it be a total inconvenience for you to sign my book? After I get your drink, of course."

He chuckled, his bright blue eyes shifting to the door as it opened and saw a man twice his age enter. Nope, that wasn't the one. "Sure, but only if you do me a favour in return."

"Anything."

Well that could go so many fun places. He forced himself to focus. "I actually just got to town and I'm looking for an old friend of mine. Neal Cassidy. Last time I talked to him he mentioned this place so I thought I'd check it out and I was kind of hoping to run into him here."

"Oh yeah. I know Neal," the waitress chirped. "He's a nice guy. He and his girlfriend are in here pretty often when they're around. They should be in tonight."

"Perfect. Thanks."

"I'll just go get my book," she said quickly, darting off before August managed to get his drink ordered. He laughed and shook his head. Price of fame.

The door opened again and a couple came in. They were laughing and joking, the blonde wearing a grin like her boyfriend had said something hilarious. The waitress waved at them as she came from the back, book clutched in hand. "Neal, you didn't tell me you know August Booth? You know he's my favourite!"

The guy - apparently the guy that August had been looking for - turned, but it was the girlfriend that made his jaw drop. It has been several years since he'd checked in on her, and he hadn't recognized her with the glasses, but there was no mistaking the little girl he'd been sent through to protect. Emma Swan was all grown up now and was staring right at him.

TBC

Notes: I've been looking forward to this one for a while. Hope you enjoyed the beginning!

Next time - August finds that he has to work harder than he'd expected to get Neal to come with him while, back in Storybrooke, Regina visits Gold's shop to try to find a distraction from the utter boredom.

Chapter Text

2.

"Yeah, Neal, you didn't tell me you know someone famous that I've never heard of," Emma laughed and Neal Cassidy looked more than a little confused. He didn't say anything, though, and August wasn't sure if he was being nice or if he thought he'd forgotten him.

"I'll let you guys catch up," the waitress said as August finished signing her book and he tried to motion for her to stop so he could order a drink, but she was gone again before he could. He really was going to need a drink or three for this.

Neal and Emma took a seat at the table, Emma grinning ear to ear and looking thoroughly amused that Neal was quite so uncomfortable. "So, how do you two know each other?"

The dark haired man grinned then. "It was that thing… Oh, what was it, two years ago?"

"The one in New York," August answered and then he saw the glimmer of mischief in the younger man's eye and he knew he was lying. He just wasn't sure to what end yet. "And I think it was three."

"Seems like it was more recent, but I guess you're right," he answered. "What brings you to Portland?"

August shrugged. "Hadn't been here before, thought I'd check it out."

The waitress came back with a tray full of drinks. She set a beer down in front of Neal and Emma and a whiskey and coke in front of August. He stared at her with an openly surprised expression and she grinned. "It's a gift."

"August offered to pay tonight, Lisa," Neal told her, leaning back in his chair. "He should come to town more often, don't you think?"

"Definitely," she answered with a huge smile and was off again.

Neal was a talented liar, August had to give him credit. He'd told a few whoppers in his day, but he doubted that he fell so easily into it as this man did. He eased into the role, never missing a beat, and on the third round in when Emma got up to talk to the bubbly little waitress, he finally leaned in. "Listen, August, I don't know who you're with, but Emma's got nothing to do with it, do you hear me?"

The writer blinked. "More than you know, but that's not what I'm here for."

Dark brown eyes glanced around the room as if he were looking for someone. "And what is that, exactly?"

"Woh," August tried to chuckle, "I'm not here to hurt you or anything. I don't know what kind of stuff you've gotten yourself into, but I'm not here about that. I'm here because someone needs your help."

"Yeah, and who's that?"

"Your dad."

Neal snorted, taking another long sip of his beer. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know more than you think, Baelfire," August said lowly and watched most of the colour drain from his new drinking partner's face.

He stood abruptly. "You tell my dad to stay the hell away from me," he growled and August saw his opportunity slipping faster than he could catch it. He struggled to remember what all Blue had told him. Neal would be against it at first, but he had to remind him how much he loved his father. He had to tell him how his father was in trouble and how Neal was the only one that could save him. What she hadn't told him was who the hell this Baelfire's father was, and he wondered for a brief moment if he was doing the right thing by bringing this guy back to Storybrooke. Surely the Blue Fairy wouldn't be putting some poor guy in harms way, right?

"Hey, listen, I know this is out of nowhere, but he needs your help. He came here to find you and he's in trouble now."

That made Neal pause. "What? What sort of trouble? No, wait. Not here." He looked back to where Emma was coming back with Lisa. "Where are you staying?"

"Nowhere yet. I didn't know how long I was going to be here."

Neal nodded, scribbling something down on a napkin. "After we leave tonight, wait an hour and then meet me here. I don't want Emma anywhere near this before I know what's going on."

The fact that she was going to land herself in it sooner rather than later probably was not the best thing to say at that point, so August let it ride. Instead he put on his best smile when the ladies came back, Lisa telling him that she was off the clock and joining them. Somehow he had just bought them all another round.

Neal stood in the back alley on that rainy December night, his hood pulled up around his face and his breath showing in the cool air. His hands were stuffed deeply into his jacket pocket and he was cursing himself for choosing the place like this to meet this stranger that was, apparently, a well known author. His options on the where for their meet were more limited than the when, as it was well after all the bars closed down and he didn't dare bring him anywhere near the little motel that he and Emma were staying at. That left him bouncing up and down a little on his toes, trying to stay warm, as he worked through all the possibilities of who this August Booth was.

He was a legitimate author, as he'd found out when Lisa had been ready to show them her newly signed book with his picture plastered across the back of it. Twenty-four, tall, and seemingly well adapted to this world, though somehow knew about the Enchanted Forest. He couldn't be lying, Neal told himself for the tenth time in two minutes, because who in their right minds would believe that it existed without having seen it for themselves? No one, that's who, so that handled at least one of the thousands of questions barrelling through his mind fast enough to give him a headache. The cold, rainy weather wasn't helping a great deal either, and damn it all he just had to be sober, didn't he?

Hearing that his papa was here after so very, very long would do that. It had been like a kick to the gut, even without hearing his name. His father was in the Land Without Magic, the world that he'd been so terrified to go to, and something had gone terribly wrong when he got here. He'd played scenario after scenario over in his mind and tried to come up with something plausible, but he was having a hard time fitting the two worlds together and it not sounding ridiculous. Where was that idiot August, anyway? He'd told him an hour. It'd been at least and sixty-five minutes.

"Neal?"

Neal turned, squinting into the darkness. August looked miserable without a hood to shield himself from the muck and he was frowning as his leather coat was well on its way to being ruined. "Sorry, I had to drop by stuff off at a hotel. I carry my typewriter with me and this rain would have ruined it." He paused. "Any chance we can find some place to duck into?"

Dark eyes watched him suspiciously for a moment before Neal noded. "Yeah," he said, motioning for him to follow. They'd been back in Portland a little over month - one of their longest stints in one of their favourite cities - and he knew the back streets well. They ducked an awning and pressed their back against the wall to stay dry.

"You probably have a few questions," August prompted when nothing was said.

"Yeah. A few," Neal breathed and tried to keep them all straight in his head. "Who are you?"

"August, like I said."

"No, who are you? In our world?"

A slow, careful smile of a man that had spent just as much time as he had crafting a new identity spread across his lips. "Pinocchio."

"Seriously? I suddenly just lost a lot of faith in anything you're about to say."

August chuckled at that. "The movie is that accurate, you know."

"Never actually saw it." He paused, watching the other man. He had other questions in line, but one managed to butt its way to the front. "Is my dad hurt?"

"Not that I know of. Not yet. She just said-"

"She? Who's she?"

"Have you ever heard of the Blue Fairy?"

"I've met her. She's the one that gave me the bean to come to this world. Why would she be here?"

August loosed a long breath. "Listen, it's kind of a long story, and we've got a ways to go, so can we get dried off and get moving? I can tell you on the way."

"Hey, I didn't say that I was going anywhere," Neal argued immediately. "You said my dad was in trouble. What kind of trouble?"

"I don't know. She just said that something he did went wrong and that he needs you. That's all she'd tell me."

Neal frowned. The Blue Fairy was supposed to be the original good in their world. She didn't lie and she didn't manipulate like his father did. If she was sending someone for him, his papa must really be in trouble, and no matter what had happened, no matter what he'd done, he was still his papa. Or at least he had been once, and Neal couldn't live with himself if he could have helped him and didn't. Especially after he'd found a way to follow him.

"I'm sure she'll tell you more, but we have to go," August pressed.

"Okay. I'll have to get a few things and I'll meet you in the morning. I… can't just skip out on Emma. I have to figure out something to tell her."

"Guess the truth is a little farfetched for guys like us, huh?"

"Yeah. Emma's not exactly the faith type either. She has to see something with her own two eyes and touch it with her own two hands and she may still call it fake depending on her mood. I'll tell her as much as I can, but…"

"I get it. No judgement from me," August offered. "Where are you staying? I'll swing by and pick you up in the morning."

Neal gave him the address. "So where is it that we're going?

"Storybrooke, Maine."

"Never heard of it."

"No one has. I'll see you in the morning."

Neal watched him walk away and pulled his hood up around his ears to protect himself as much as he could from the rain for his trek back to the motel. He was soaked all the way through and his teeth were chattering by the time he got there and he was thrilled that they'd popped for a place other than the bug to stay this time. They'd hocked a few things they'd stolen in the last city and had a couple hundred bucks.

"Where've you been?" Emma asked drowsily as he came in and he immediately started dropping layers, leaving a sopping trail behind him. "Neal? You're soaked. Hey? What happened?"

"Let me get warmed up?" he asked and she nodded. The shower didn't do much to warm him with the water only barely lukewarm, but it did give him time to think. That way he didn't feel like he was completely sputtering when he found Emma sitting on the bed and waiting for him. She looked at him expectantly and he found himself at a point of decision. He could just go. He didn't have to say anything. He could leave and never look back and he'd be just like every other guy - every other person - in her life. It wouldn't be that different.

But he couldn't, and he knew he couldn't. He loved her. It had been a long time since he'd thought about True Love, but if it was possible in that world, he'd found it, and he had to tell her - assure her - that he'd be back for her. "I have to go," he whispered.

"Why?" she whispered and her voice was so broken. "Did you… meet someone else?"

Shock swept through him. "No. No, nothing like that. Emma, I love you, I'd never do that to you."

"You… what?" she managed, eyes wide as she stared at him and he realized he'd said it out loud. Well, he'd said it once, and he knew he meant it.

"I love you," he said again and he took a seat next to her, taking her hands in his and squeezing hard. Hers were warm, but she didn't seem to mind. "My… dad got ahold of me."

"You said you didn't talk to your dad."

"I didn't. I don't. I don't know. He's in some sort of trouble and he needs my help."

"Neal," Emma said softly, gripping his hand, "he left you. You never wanted to see him again."

"I know, but what…. He came looking for me and he may be hurt. If he's not, he might be. It's really hard to explain, Emma."

"I'm going with you then."

He shook his head. "No. My family's complicated. I can't… Please, Emma, I don't know how to explain it, but I have to do this alone. I'll be back, I swear, but I have to do it alone."

"You'll come back?"

There was that small, uncertain voice again and it just about killed him. "I will, and I'm just a phone call away. I'll answer whatever time you call. Any time at all."

"Even five in the morning?"

"You won't be be up at five in the morning."

"True."

They laughed and he leaned forward, pulling her close to him. "Any time," he promised.

"You really love me?"

"I really do."

"What time do you have to leave?"

"First thing."

Emma smiled, and pulled him back onto the bed. He fell after her and she curled up in his arms, burying her face in his t-shirt. She was so warm that he felt himself slipping off to sleep almost immediately, safe and secure and happy. Facing his father would come soon enough. He didn't need to worry about it that night. He needed to focus on the good in his life right then or he'd lose his courage.

"I love you too," she murmured sleepily and he smiled and held her close.

It was another perfect day. The air was cooling, the clock was still, Dr Hopper was walking that damn dog of his, and Mary Margaret Blanchard - that insufferable Snow White - was sputtering and apologizing for nearly running into Regina again. "I am so sorry, Madame Mayor!"

"Enough," Regina snapped, brushing the bumbling shadow of the girl she'd once known aside. "I have better things to do than to listen to your petty excuses."

Mary Margaret continued to sniffle and mumble behind her and Regina brushed past. She really did have better places to be, or at least potentially more entertaining places. Storybrooke was stagnant and somehow her curse had made it that way, but even when that was the way of things she found that certain people were not quite as stagnant as the rest. Her old mentor was one of them.

The little bell announced her arrival as she stepped into the pawnshop. It was empty - predictable - and the owner was nowhere in site. Regina waited a minute and then another with no sign of Mr Gold. She was the queen - mayor - and he had no right to keep her waiting. She wasn't one of these cursed fools bumbling around without a purpose.

But he was, and that was both entertaining and unbelievably dull in alternating moments.

"Madame Mayor, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?" Rumplestiltskin's - even if he didn't know himself as such - smooth lilt filtered in as he pushed back the curtain that separated the back office from the showroom and limped in. It had been quite a shock the first time she'd seen him there. Instead of the giggling little imp he'd been when they left their world, her former teacher had been replaced with this well dressed, clever, manipulative man that didn't need her help to put the rest of the town on their knees in his own way. Regina had power, but Gold held their pocketbooks. She'd seen people run just because he walked through a front door. It was glorious.

The shop owner bent to pull something out from beneath the cabinet and Regina saw an music box that could have been old from their time. He started fiddling with it, obviously as bored as she was, but at least he didn't know it. "I came to see if perhaps that bit of land over by the cemetery had come available this year. I do know how you squabble with your tenants every year."

Gold's thin lips turned down. "The nuns," he grumbled distastefully. "Sadly that is what I was working on in the back. They've renewed another year."

"You could always choose not to renew and simply sell the land to the city instead," Regina offered, though she knew he'd never take it. The curse that he had written and she had cast made sure of that, no matter how much Regina would have loved to have seen the blue bug and all of her gnats tossed out of her town. She hadn't wanted to bring them, not really, but they'd come through and it had never set well with her. She ran into the nose-in-the-air Mother Superior every now and again, each time having to crush her urge to tear that fake smile from her face.

"While your offer is tempting, I assure you, I'd much prefer upping their rent each year as to selling off that plot of land. I like to look at the long term, you see, and as irksome as those women are they will always continue to pay because they have nowhere else to go." He paused, a glint of mischief in his eye. "Unless you want them out of Storybrooke, Madame Mayor."

There were times that Regina wondered if he knew everything and simply hid behind the façade of the pawnbroker. "Mr Gold, what could I possibly have against a convent of nuns?"

That knowing smile just didn't end and the fact that this was as entertaining as it would get was something she tried not to dwell on too much. "Nothing, I'm sure," he murmured with a low chuckle and returned to his tinkering.

Regina caught the hint and there'd been less of a distraction there that day than others. She just had to accept it, she supposed, and had already made it halfway to the door before Gold's voice caught her. "What do you know of their grounds keeper?"

She paused, unsure where a question like that would have managed to sneak up from. "Nothing particularly. Why?"

Dark brown eyes flickered up to meet her own and she could see his clever mind weighing options. Something was bothering him, and while Rumplestiltskin was trying to decide - very deep, deep down - if he trusted her enough to say, Gold likely thought it didn't matter as much in that moment as it had in the one before. Finally he shrugged. "If he's living on the property it's in violation of their lease."

Regina nodded slowly. He wasn't offering anything, nor was he asking for her help. If she chose to look into this she could expect nothing in return. The curse might or might not bend enough for the two of them to force the fairies out, but something about the groundskeeper that Gold had met had resignated deeply enough to break through just a little. It wasn't much, but one crack led to others, and if she wasn't careful Regina knew her whole world might start crumbling in on her. It was best she looked into it, she decided, before it crept up and caused trouble.

August hadn't been an early riser in years. When he'd been a kid his papa had gotten him up before dawn and they'd start to work before the day woke up. Since he'd come to this land, though, he found himself giving more and more to late nights and late mornings. His lifestyle certainly encouraged that, and he'd cursed that lifestyle the whole way to pick Neal up, all through his purposeful avoidance of anything remotely similar to eye contact with Emma, and all the way to the airport. It hadn't been until he'd finally settled down with a cup of coffee that he'd begun to feel remotely close to human. The coffee hadn't kept him from sleeping on the over five hour flight, though, so by the time that they made it to Maine, he was feeling somewhat back to his usual self.

Neal, apparently, hated flying and hadn't slept at all.

"Please tell me that wasn't your first time," August chuckled as he took the keys for their car rental that would get them to Storybrooke.

Neal still looked a little ill. "Childhood trauma with flying. That's all you need to know."

August laughed, but didn't push. He hadn't known exactly what to expect out of the man that had used a magic bean to escape the Enchanted Forest. There were still so many questions that he didn't have answers to, though he wasn't sure he wanted them. The more he knew the more he had a sneaky suspicion that things wouldn't line up. He wasn't lying to this guy, just relaying a message, but if he knew all the details then he'd be forced to make a choice. August knew from past experiences that didn't always turn out well.

The car ride was relatively quiet, his passenger finally able to sleep a bit only to be woken up a couple hours later by a buzzing phone. August tried not to listen too closely as Neal chatted with Emma, regaling her with their adventure - such as it was - thus far. He could hear her laugh on the other end as Neal started grousing about the plane and everything about it, and August tried to push down something that might have been jealousy bubbling up inside of him. He'd thought over the years about the little girl he'd left behind to the system and wondered how she was doing. He could have chosen to stay. Likewise, he could have chosen to go back for her. He hadn't and someone else had stepped in to fill a void in her life that he'd left. He didn't know who Emma had become, but now that he'd seen her again, now that his failure to keep his promise to his papa was so blatantly placed in front of him, he wished he did. At least it seemed like she'd found a decent guy to love. It might even work in their advantage now that he was tangled up in everything. He could make sure she came back to break the curse in a little over ten years.

Neal clicked the cell phone closed and August glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "So how did you and Emma meet?"

The younger man flashed a grin. "We stole the same car."

Not that August really was one to judge, but his head snapped to the side at that one and Neal busted out laughing and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Long story?"

"I bet it is," the writer chuckled and turned his attention back on the road. If his papa didn't fuss at him, the king and queen were going to kill him when they woke up from the curse. Well, he had heard that Snow White had lived as a bandit for a few years, so maybe they'd be at least a little bit more understanding. "Listen, it's probably better if you don't mention how you met Emma to the Blue Fairy, okay?"

"Why would she care about Emma?"

"No reason," he answered evasively. "She can just stick her nose into everything if you're not careful."

Neal laughed at that as they drove past a sign that read that they reached the town line for Storybrooke. August had never been inclined to any magic - well, other than the fairy magic that had turned him into a little boy - but even he could feel the difference as it washed over him.

"Guess there's no turning back now," his passenger murmured and August had been thinking the same thing.

TBC

Notes: I hope everyone had a great Christmas holiday! While this story begins in December, sadly I wasn't able to start posting it in time to get to the Christmas chapter, so that'll hit down the line at some point. :)

Next time - Neal finds that nothing is as he expected while Regina sets her sights on finding out as much as she can about the nun's groundskeeper.

Chapter Text

3.

Magnus knew the moment that the strangers had crossed the town line. It was subtle, like the furthest ripple out made by a small pebble in a large pond, but he felt the magic quiver under the pressure of change. It was the first taste he'd had in nearly seventeen years and for a breath of a moment he could see. The world around him had exploded into all the colours that that autumn brought with it and it had taken him so suddenly that he'd swayed. It was the Dark One's son that caused that. This curse had been cast to find him, and even it reacted to his presence ever so slightly.

"They're here."

He was still regaining his balance after the burst, brief as it was, and he hadn't heard his most loyal follower's approach. Now, dropped back into the pit of darkness that Rumplestiltskin had been responsible for so many years before, he could hear Caiden sink to a knee behind him, waiting for his response. Magnus turned towards the younger man that Storybrooke called Peter Kurtz and tried to recall the blond hair and the pale eyes that stood out so clearly in his features. He hadn't seen them since they'd been swept away by the curse and he wouldn't see them until it was broken and they were sent back home, their work complete.

"I am aware," he answered, his voice rougher than he expected. "Ruel Ghorm will meet them. You will take him with Ellis and Quinn to the Dark One. Do not alarm him and do not let yourself be seen until he has woken. We must play this carefully in a world where people do not know what great evil he harbors within him."

"Do you truly believe that simply seeing his son will bring the Dark One forward over Gold?"

A slow smile crossed the blind cleric's lips. There had been precious few times he'd even come close to killing a Dark One in all the years that he had hunted them, but there had been once he'd nearly ended Rumplestiltskin and there had been only one name on the wounded demon's lips when he'd thought that everything was coming to an end. "If there is something that can wake him up it will be Baelfire. Bring the Dark One and we will end this."

Neal watched the little town come into view and he could hardly believe his papa had come to this place. It looked quiet and quaint, like something out of a painting. It hardly looked like a place that the Dark One would have chosen to come to, even if he had found a way through.

He sighed. That was on the list of questions he had for Blue or his father or whoever he saw first that had more knowledge about all this than August did. How had Rumplestiltskin managed to make it to the Land Without Magic and why had it taken him so damn long? He'd spent so many years that he'd lost count in Neverland dreaming that he'd be rescued, but no one came for him. Finally, he had rescued himself and that had left him more bitter than he'd started.

Best he could tell with the way Neverland likes to pick people up from one time and spit them out in another, he'd been there over two hundred years. That much time hadn't passed in the Land Without Magic, but it would have for his father. He wasn't even sure what to expect.

They drove through the town and kept going. August kept mumbling bits of directions to himself like he wasn't entirely sure where he was going. He found whatever he was looking and took a sharp right, aimed at what looked like it might be a convent. Well, he was pretty sure they weren't meeting his father there.

August pulled the rent car around and killed the engine. "You coming?"

Neal unfolded, stretching as he did so. "Yeah, if you give me five seconds," he answered and followed him up the stairs to where the author paused, staring at the door like it should open automatically. "Please tell me you've been here before."

"I've been here before?"

"Right. Pinocchio. The lying thing."

"At least it's not the stealing-cars-thing," August groused and Neal rolled his eyes, reached past him, and knocked.

"There. That's how it's done."

August gaped and Neal grinned as the door swung open, but then it was Neal's turn to look a bit like a fish out of water. He stared at a very human, very not-sparkly, very-not-what-he-remembered Blue Fairy. She was dressed in a simple frock instead of her usual low-cut attire with ribbons and frills everywhere. Her hair was pinned down, not piled up and around and she stared at him like… well like she hadn't seen him in over two centuries. "Baelfire," she breathed. "Is that really you?"

"Hey. The bean worked. Papa just bailed." He had never spoken to a soul about what really happened that night and he was surprised at how the words just tumbled from his lips. Easy, casual, and somehow able to hide the deep ache that set somewhere in his chest at the thought.

"As I saw soon after," the fairy murmured she tried for a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Please, come inside. We have much to discuss."

"August said my dad's in some sort of trouble. How'd he get here?"

The Blue Fairy frowned a little. "That is rather complicated, but just know that the steps he took were… extreme. If there's anything left of your father that you once knew, Baelfire, he needs you now more than ever. Can you do that? After so long, can you be there for him just as you were when you were young?"

Something was off in her voice, but Neal found himself nodding anyway. He felt like he'd been swept up into some kind of dream - or possibly a nightmare - and had little control from here on out. "I came, didn't I?"

"You're a good son," she echoed the words from so very long ago. "Come, there's someone that you need to meet."

Regina entered the records room and turned up her nose. It smelled stale and old, like nothing had happened here for years upon years. Around seventeen, she imagined, as that's when everything had suddenly poofed into being. Oh, the records dated back further than that, of course. Rumple's little curse had really done a trick on this place. She hadn't known exactly what to expect when the purple cloud filled with dark magic had filled her lungs and she'd been pulled between the worlds, but she'd certainly been satisfied - at least until the boredom set in - with the amount of knowledge of the world that the curse had provided her with without overrunning her own memories. She knew why she was here. She knew who she wanted to make suffer.

"Mayor Mills, what can I do for ya?"

She had no idea who the clerk working for Mr Krzyszkowski was - or who Mr Krzyszkowski himself was, for that matter - back home, but something about him rubbed her wrong. He worked part time in records, part time in her office, and did a lot of nothing as far as she was concerned. She'd have had him executed for his laziness had they still been in the Enchanted Forest, but alas, murder was so much trickier in this land. Anyway, she wasn't sure what a change such as a death would do to her curse. It wasn't exactly something she'd asked Rumple about before it was cast. Not that the imp would have told her anyway.

"I'm looking for information."

"Most people are that come in here. Granted, most people don't come in much. What can I get for ya?"

"You already asked me that," Regina growled. "I don't have a name, just an occupation. I need information on the groundskeeper at the convent."

"Mr Dawson?" the clerk asked, blinking owlishly at her like she'd told him so terrible secret that no one was supposed to know.

Regina sighed heavily. "Did I not just tell you I don't have his name? If that's it, then yes. Just get me the damn file so I can get out of this dungeon."

"I can get it on your desk first thing tomorrow if you like, Madame Mayor."

"If I'd wanted it on my desk first thing in the morning I would have told you to put it on my desk then! Get the damn file!"

The clerk scurried then, his green eyes wide. He bent down into the drawers and started digging until he came back with a thin file and handed it over. "Here you go," he answered in a squeaky voice. Maybe he'd been a mouse. Maybe she could find a way to turn him into one now. It would certainly suit him better.

"I'll get it back by the end of the week," she said as she started out.

"But, ma'am, I'm supposed to have you sign it out. All the forms. Mr K'll have my ass if I don't!"

"Good luck with that," she answered with a wave and her heels tapped the floor as she started down the hall and towards her office. She waited until she was behind the door to open it up, eyes skimming the information. There was precious little and none of it told her who he'd been either. Here he worked for the convent, was hired on by the blue bug herself - so the records said anyway - and had a medical record a mile long. There was nothing of any use, of course, and she threw the file across the room. "Worthless," she grumbled. Jacob Dawson seemed just like anyone else there: miserable and hardly a challenge for anything. She would have to check her secondary source of records that she'd discovered about five years into the curse: Dr Hopper's records. The curse had delivered details on everyone - well, everyone except for her of course - into his office, even if they were not regular patients. Even Rumple had one, not that he likely thought about it.

Regina huffed and looked at the papers scattered across her office floor, remembering the supposed reasons she'd gone down there in the first place. She stood and moved over to the pile, stooping to pick them up and flip through them again. There. A current address. And wouldn't you know it, he lived on the property that the convent sat on. Property owned and leased out - not to him but to the nuns - by Mr Gold. Well, he might not be anything of any interest now, but he could be made to be.

Caiden hadn't known what to expect when Magnus had told him that he would be meeting the Dark One's son. The young man that followed Blue through the door seemed normal enough by that world's standards. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a jacket still on his back and a scarf pulled tightly around his neck. He looked wary, but not quite suspicious, though his expression might turn that way at any time. Dark eyes swept over the room that he and Magnus were waiting in and he felt the gaze linger on them and he resisted the urge to take a protective step in front of his master. He was limited here in this world without magic, and if the Dark One's child knew who they were - if he even suspected - they needed to be ready for a fight at any time.

"Baelfire, this is Magnus and Caiden. Caiden will take you to your father," the lead fairy said and looked ready to run. The closer they got to finishing this the more nervous she seemed. He understood her aversion to killing, really he did, but some creatures could not be left to roam to worlds. It was very likely that they were helping this young man's father. If there was ever a chance that his spirit - if he'd kept any part of his soul clear of the curse at all - would be free of this darkness in death, it was if he met it here. They were doing Rumplestiltskin a kindness that they could never have offered to another Dark One before.

Baelfire extended a hand. "How do you know him?"

"Many magic users are well acquainted in the Enchanted Forest," Magnus answered and Caiden saw Baelfire stiffen a little.

"So you use magic too?"

"They're on the right side of it," the Blue Fairy assured him, though Caiden hardly thought he looked convinced.

"Yeah, well, it was magic that screwed my family, so you'll forgive me if I'm skeptical."

"Your father is in great danger, Baelfire."

"That's what everyone keeps telling me, but no one seems to be able to tell me why."

"I'll take you to him and he can explain," Caiden said softly and watched suspicion final settle into his expression.

"Let's get it over with then. I have a life to get back to."

He'd been shuffled off quickly enough and August tried to remind himself that he wasn't responsible for whatever happened next. He had his papa's shop address in his pocket and he was on his way. He'd done what was asked and that was that. He didn't know Neal, he didn't know who Neal's dad was, and he didn't want to. It was all in his hands now.

August had always been a good liar, but even he couldn't keep that one going. He paused at the door that would lead him out to the hall and to the exit. Maybe he could wait until Neal came out and then go to see his papa. They'd come this far, after all.

The sound of feet shuffling quickly filled the hall and the writer melted out of sight. They'd made it pretty clear that he was expected to leave, so it was better if one of the wandering nuns didn't see him lingering.

It wasn't a nun. August didn't know who he was, but he was young and dressed like he worked a low paying desk job. His steps were hurried and the look on his face was sour as he scurried past, nearly knocked down by the opening door.

The man that exited seemed to know exactly where the hurried messenger was, even though his strangely coloured eyes never focused in on him. He reached out, voice low and demanding. "What?"

"The Evil Queen stopped by the records room today. She was asking about you."

Sightless eyes blinked. "It does not matter. Caiden has already gone to deliver Baelfire to his father. Soon Gold will remember who he is and we will have an end to the Dark One's curse."

"Will Caiden be the one?"

"No. He will bring him to me. This must be done correctly to ensure that the curse does not survive its host's death."

August pressed himself as close to the wall behind him as he could. The Dark One. He'd heard stories of a monster that made deals and cursed you - if you were lucky - if you couldn't live up to your end. He was supposed to be such a demon that Snow and Charming had locked him up in an inescapable cell deep in the mines. He'd been the only one powerful enough to predict the curse and he had been the one to foretell the part Emma still had to play. August hadn't even thought about someone like the Dark One coming through, much less that he'd have a son. No wonder Neal had been so against bringing the woman he loved anywhere near his father. The man was as evil as they came.

But he was still Neal's father and they were going to use him unwittingly against him. August leaned back and but his lip. He could run away from this. He didn't owe Neal anything, but even so he couldn't banish the younger man's look of worry that he'd had when he had heard his father was in trouble. Demon or man, he was Neal's papa, and August didn't think he could live with himself if he let this happen.

"We're not alone," the larger man said and August felt his breath catch. Who the hell were these people? One couldn't see and the other had been so fixated on the conversation that it would have taken a bomb dropping to distract him.

There was nowhere to go, so he didn't even try. The younger man rounded the corner and August offered what he hoped was a convincing smile. "Hey, you'd be shocked how hard it is trying to get out of this place."

"How'd you get in here?" the nervous messenger demanded.

"The Blue Fairy invited me. I'm August - Pinocchio - and I'm the one that brought Baelfire for you guys. You're welcome, by the way."

"Fetch Blue," the giant of a man said and his gaze went straight through August. "I won't risk this plan falling to pieces in the last moments because she was careless."

"Listen, I was told I could go see my papa. I haven't seen him since the curse hit, so if you don't mind..."

"I do mind. Have a seat, little puppet. You'll have a splendid view of an event that will change our world."

August didn't answer, but he didn't move either. Blue was in on whatever this was, but he couldn't convince himself that that made it right. Not that he'd ever had the best natural moral compass, but some things were impossible to ignore.

Neal had become a very distrusting person somewhere along the way, so when Caiden shuffled him off on yet two other young men and he found himself surrounded by people that seemed to have no connection to anyone that he knew personally, his guards went up. He watched their every step and didn't say a word. He hadn't been in a fight for his life in some time now, but he knew what it was like to be marched off under false pretences.

His first thought - and the only one that made a whole lot of sense to him at that point - was that his father had set this up. He knew Baelfire wouldn't come to him under anything less than the most dire of circumstances, so he'd created some. He'd been too afraid, too much of a coward to simply come to his son and admit he was wrong. He had to go through the theatrics and rely on Bae's - Neal's. He was Neal now, dammit - lingering hopes that he'd tried so desperately to crush before they drowned him. He thought he had. He thought he'd finally moved on. Then August Booth showed up saying his papa was in trouble and gullible little Baelfire had come running. He was going to kill him.

There were a lot of holes in that theory, but they didn't seem quite as important in that moment. He still didn't know who these men working with Blue were, or why the Blue Fairy would help his papa in anything after the whole bean incident. He probably had her snowed with some long story of doing anything for his son. That was one he loved to pull. Anything except keep his promises, of course. He couldn't believe he'd been stupid enough to drop everything and come running.

Neal stopped where he was walking. "Where the hell are we going?" he demanded. He was done following. He wanted answers.

"Just up ahead," one of the men that he'd barely been introduced to said, motioning to a shop with a sign that hung in front of the door. Mr Gold Pawnbroker and Antiques Dealer. He felt a little underwhelmed.

"Okay?"

"Your father is inside."

He snorted and stalked forward, making them to trail behind for a change. The bell over the door to the little shop announced his entrance and he found himself standing in an actual antiques shop. He wasn't quite sure what he expected, but the quaint, packed little shop was not it. It smelled like old books, leathers, spices, and an assortment of things. Figurines peered out from behind glass cases and bikes hung from the walls. Behind the old-fashioned register were half a dozen or more paintings of varying types, and on a shelf sat a ball that looked strikingly familiar. The leather was cracked and worn, but it sat in a place of honour like a trophy for all to see. It didn't make sense.

The curtain that seemed to separate the front of the store from the back pulled open and a somewhat familiar figure shuffled through. Somewhat, Bae realized, because while the man wore his papa's face, there were plenty of differences. He didn't have the flamboyant mannerisms of his father just before they'd parted, but the way he stood didn't remind him of his papa from his childhood either. The limp was there, but the way his shoulders were pushed back and squared, his head held high, and the impatient look the seemed etched into his features all seemed more of a mixture of the two men he'd once been.

Neal found himself stepping forward. "Papa."

Dark brown eyes blinked. "Excuse me? Can I help you with something?"

The words and the lack of recognition were more a kick to the gut than Neal could have imagined them to be. He didn't know him at all, even if he'd been expecting him. "It's me, Papa. Bae."

He wasn't playing games, that much Neal thought he was sure, and when he turned a questioning look back to the men that had brought him, he thought they looked disappointed. One, though, looked more irritated than the other. "Don't you know your own son?" he demanded, and the man that looked so much like Bae's papa levelled a glare.

"I don't know what you're playing at, but I don't have a son. Unless you're planning to buy something I would suggest you leave."

"Come on," the second man said, taking his friend's arm and pulling him towards the door. "It didn't work. Let's go."

"The hell it didn't. He's toying with us! Don't you see it? He knows what this is and he's faking it!"

The shop owner looked thoroughly confused now. "It's time for you to go, otherwise I'll be making a call to the sheriff's station," he warned, turning to limp back around the counter and to the phone.

"It doesn't matter if he knows," the more agitated of the two men growled. "What matters is that it ends, and we can do that now."

Neal saw the flash of the gun as it came out and he didn't look around to see if the shop owner had seen the same. It had been a long time, but he'd know his papa anywhere, even if his papa didn't know him, and this was most certainly him. August hadn't lied when he said he was in trouble, and that was why he was there. Maybe that's what made him dart forward, a warning on his lips, but he didn't have a chance to get it out before the shot went off, nor did he have time to register why a pair of dark eyes that were the same shade as his own were wide and startled before he felt himself jolt forward, a burning pain flashing and the world went black around him.

TBC

Notes: Usually my update days will be Monday and Thursday, but as the first couple of updates seem to be falling on holiday weeks, I'll be updating again Friday as long as all goes well.

Next time - When Neal lands himself in the hospital for a short stay after trying to save the odd Mr Gold, his visitors bring about a lot of questions and only a few answers to satisfy them.

Chapter Text

4.

Mr Gold liked to think he had a pretty good idea of what happened around him in Storybrooke. He didn't frequent the usual places of gossip - places like Granny's, the White Rabbit, or the corner of any given street - but he heard enough. He certainly knew enough to have half the town or more on their knees should he ever choose to have them there, but he did not know who any of the three men that had entered his shop that late afternoon were. He didn't know what they wanted and when one of them claimed that another one was his son he had told them to get out. He wasn't in the mood for playing games then or any other day of the week, so they might as well have left.

He didn't know what he'd done to these nutcases or what could have possibly possessed them to pull a gun on him, but it wasn't a robbery. He'd had a couple of fools try to rob him every now and again, but he kept a pistol on hand to protect himself and his store. These men didn't seem to have any interest in money, though, but were aiming at him as if he'd somehow wronged them. He didn't even know them.

Then there was the boy. Well, he was more of a young man, really, likely just barely out of his teens and looked as if he'd been fed one hell of a lie to get him there, though to what end Gold couldn't possibly fathom. He saw the gun when the pawnbroker did, though, and could move faster. Instead of moving away, he jumped as if to warn him, and Gold saw a streak of red that threw him off balance and into the counter, smacking his head against it hard enough to knock him out cold on the shop floor.

Mr Gold was nothing if he wasn't an opportunist. He took the moment of distraction to go for the gun under his side of the counter and the panic button that would alert the authorities. Well, authority. If Sheriff Graham Humbert was even at the station and not off doing heaven only knew what.

His fingers latched around the gun and he straightened, finding the intruder leveling his own. Gold didn't pause as he aimed and fired. The shot rang out through the shop and the man fell dead to the floor. The gun switched aim and the shop owner's expression never changed. "Don't even think about it, dear," he said firmly as he watched his eyes travel down to the gun that had been knocked out of his friend's hand upon impact. "Now, I'd like some answers as to what the two of you thought you might gain from this little adventure."

Wide, frightened eyes that were trying so hard to be brave turned up to him, then flickered down to the still-prone form of the young man that had likely saved Gold's life. "He needs help."

"You should get your priorities straight," the shop owner growled dangerously, but something set deep within him and it gnawed on him. The young man hadn't stirred since hitting his head against the hard counter. The bullet only grazed him, he was sure of that, but he should have come around by now. He had to make a choice, and it wasn't one he was fond of.

Gold let out a frustrated huff. "Well go on."

"W-what?" his would-be-attacker stuttered.

"Well I can hardly assume you won't try to shoot me the first chance you get, so leave."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then he eyed the shop owner like he expected him to shoot him in the back. When he backed away several steps and didn't die, he turned and took off, the bell nearly shaking itself off the door as it slammed off the cupboard and closed again.

Gold knelt by the young man, finding him finally coming around slowly. He blinked unfocused, dark eyes up and grimaced drowsily. "Papa?"

"You took quite a knock to the head. How many of me do you see?"

The answer was too garbled to be deciphered and Gold took that as a sign that there was no better choice. He stood, limped to the phone, and dialed. "Yes, this is Mr Gold over at the pawnshop. There was an attempted robbery. I need an ambulance and if you could try to round up Sheriff Humbert that would be grand. Thank you." He didn't give them time to respond as he set the phone back down on the receiver and found his injured guest looking as if he might by at least considering the idea of sitting up. He wouldn't get there, but that didn't always matter. "Hey now," he murmured. "I can't catch you if you fall over again."

The young man snorted softly, but didn't say anything. Gold didn't risk approaching him again lest that uneasy feeling take hold and not let go. He wanted the ambulance there, that way the boy could get the help he needed and they'd cart the dead thief away. He could be on his way to hiring someone to come in and clean up the mess for him and that was that. Tomorrow it'd be like nothing had ever happened. Business would open as usual and life would continue marching on to the exact same beat that it always had before. On and on without fail. Storybrooke was predictable, and one little odd day wouldn't change that.

Sirens filled the street and egged on the headache that threatened him. They came in, pronounced the dead man dead, and hauled the injured young man into the ambulance. He was much more lucid by that point, telling them that he felt much better, but they were persistent. He'd likely need stitches for the gash the bullet had left along his side and that concussion needed to be looked after into the evening hours. The sheriff wandered in about the time the rest of them were leaving and gave a low whistle. "Robbery?"

"They didn't make out with anything, if that's what you're asking," Gold answered shortly. He'd had quite enough excitement for the day.

"I spoke to the medic outside. They said you shot one of those boys?"

"The dead one, yes. He had a gun on me."

"Did he fire at you?"

"Yes. The lad - I didn't catch his name - that they just hauled off got in the way."

"Likely saved your life," Graham answered with a quirked eyebrow.

"Likely so. Listen, Sheriff, I understand you've a job to do, but so do I, and most of that has suddenly been replaced with the rather urgent need to get this blood up off my wooden floors before it stains."

The young sheriff blinked at him like he didn't really understand what he was saying. "I'll just need your statement."

"Three men came into my shop, the young man that left for the hospital seemed to have mistaken me for someone else, the other two became agitated, one pulled a gun, the young man jumped in the way. That was when I hit the panic button under my counter there and pulled my own gun."

"Did you give them any sort of warning?"

"Yes, the second man got a warning when I shot the first." He heaved a sigh. "I'm not one to stand around and leave myself a target, Sheriff. Unless you plan to arrest me for defending myself in my own shop…?"

"Of course not, Mr Gold."

"Then good day to you, Sheriff."

He watched the younger man leave and turned back to the floor with a frown. It really was a mess and in the end he might even have to add a rug just to make it presentable. That was what was putting him out of sorts, he assured himself, and not those strange eyes that somehow looked familiar. He was certain he'd never met the man that they belonged to before. He couldn't quite recall the name he'd given, but it shouldn't matter. None of it should matter. It would all smooth out into the same old boring Storybrooke anyway.

There had been a commotion down by Mr Gold's pawn shop, or at least that was the rumour going around. Regina had been in her office and had heard the sirens go blaring past, but it wasn't until she spoke to Sidney that she found out what details that there were to know. She'd heard plenty before she tracked down her pet reporter, of course, but those rumours ranged from saying that Gold had been shot and lay dying in the hospital to that he'd somehow managed to take on five attackers at once. That seemed to be Snow's little dwarf's favourite, but he had already started in on Happy Hour at Granny's by that point.

Sidney had a few facts to mix into the rumours, as he always did. There had been two attackers, three men. One, the deceased, was Kyle Matthews, a bookkeeper for several of the small businesses in Storybrooke. His accomplice was still unknown, but what really caught to mayor's attention was the third man. No one seemed to know him, even though he was currently in the hospital under watch for a concussion suffered during what was being referred to as a robbery. Whale hadn't released his patient's name to Sidney, so Regina had had to go to the hospital herself. Surely it was just some quiet soul that had never made enough of a racket here in Storybrooke to be noticed. No person from the Land Without Magic could find their town. Not after the terrible incident of that father and son. She'd been careful.

"Madame Mayor, what brings you here?" Whale asked in what almost might pass for a polite tone. Almost. He seemed rather hurried today.

"Dr Whale, I hear there was an incident in Mr Gold's shop earlier this afternoon."

"You'll have to speak to Gold or the sheriff on that, Regina. I've been here all day."

"It's your patient I'm here about. The young man that was in the shop when it was attacked?"

Whale sighed. "Mr Cassidy. Yeah, he's been fun. That knock to the head threw him for a real loop. He tried to tell Graham that Mother Superior had something to do with the attack. Crazy, huh? He seems to have settled back down and he should be good to give an actual statement by morning. We're just monitoring him now."

"Where's he from?"

"He has a driver's license from Oregon. Not sure how he got all the way over here, but I didn't ask either."

"Is he awake?"

"Should be. He's right around the corner, first door to your left. Neal Cassidy."

Regina didn't bother with a thank you as strode past him and towards the room he'd indicated. Neal Cassidy from Oregon. She knew of the state in the vague sort of way that she knew of Whale's own world. She'd never ventured outside of Storybrooke before and saw no reason to, and therefore had never been to the so-called West Coast. All she know was that there was a stranger in her town, and she didn't like strangers.

The young man was lying in bed with his eyes closed. He looked to be sleeping, and as Regina watched him she couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity. She couldn't place why he was familiar, only that he was, and when he opened his eyes and looked directly at her that feeling only deepened. Who the hell was this Neal Cassidy?

He swallowed hard. "You don't look like a nurse."

"That would be because I'm not. I'm the mayor."

That brought a confused look from him. "Okay? Listen... Apparently I hit my head pretty hard when I went down earlier and I'm still a little fuzzy on some details. Why would you be here?"

"Funny enough, that was my question," Regina answered tightly, crossing her arms and waiting for an answer. When it didn't come she frowned. "You're in my town."

"Well, yes, your majesty, I guess I am."

She stared at him. "Excuse me?" she managed through her shock.

"Damn, you people are uptight. Nothing, Mayor…."

"Mills. Mayor Mills. And I'm most certainly the mayor, not the queen," she huffed, her mind spinning on how he'd known. He was an outsider. How could he have?

"Didn't think you were. You people don't really get sarcasm here, do you?"

She blinked. He wasn't going to give her answers like this, and Regina needed answers. He shouldn't even have been there in Storybrooke, and she needed to know how he should be dealt with quickly. If she didn't, he might disrupt everything. His very presence was already causing a stir. "I'm sorry," she said with a false sweetness. "I'm sure you're not feeling well. I understand that you saved Mr Gold's life today."

"Mr Gold?" he repeated, his voice sad. "Is that what they're calling him?"

"Do you know him as something else?"

He wouldn't meet her eyes, but instead turned his dark gaze towards the bedsheets. Regina actually felt the smallest twinges of pity for him. He looked so lost there, as if his whole world had come crashing down around him. "He doesn't remember me anyway," he whispered after a moment.

"Who is he to you?"

"You wouldn't believe me anyway, and at this point I just want to get out of here. That doctor was already looking at me like I'm crazy."

Regina took a seat in the empty chair by the bed. "I've heard and seen some crazy things. Try me."

"He's my dad," Neal Cassidy murmured and the Evil Queen could only stare at him in shock.

"Rumple has a son?" she managed and his eyes snapped up to meet hers. It was unmistakable now. The face he wore in this world must have been the one he'd worn before becoming the Dark One. Those eyes and other subtle details all worked together to prove what this man was saying, no matter how insane it sounded.

"You know him? You know his real name?" He sat straight up in his bed and winced at his movements. "What the hell is going on in this town? August Booth showed up in Portland, Oregon, and said my dad was in trouble. I get here and he doesn't remember me and no one seems to have heard of August."

"I don't know him either," she admitted and leaned forward. "As for your father... That's a bit more complicated. Where were you born, Mr Cassidy?"

His gaze faltered again and she knew how crazy it might sound. "Was it somewhere in the Enchanted Forest?"

"The Frontlands," he confirmed.

Regina turned her nose up a little. Rumple was from the Frontlands, was he? Interesting. No one of any consequence ever came from there, it seemed. No wonder he'd never mentioned it before.

"August said he came looking for me."

"You've been here? In the Land Without Magic?"

"Yeah. It's... kind of a long story, but we were separated when I was a kid. Is he really here for me? He acted like he didn't even know me."

Regina had always had a sneaky suspicion that Rumple had ulterior motives behind the Dark Curse. He'd set everything up so nicely, ushered everything into just the right place, and had told her what she needed to do to find her revenge. Then she had cast it, bringing him to a world that he had no access to without it and now she knew why he couldn't cast it himself. He would have had to sacrifice the child he was looking for. Who knew that Rumplestiltskin could be so sentimental?

"He doesn't know you because he's under the same curse that most people in Storybrooke are. When it brought us to this world it erased our memories and replaced them with new lives."

He stared at her. "Are you saying my papa is gone? All that's left is the man I met today?"

"Oh, he's likely buried somewhere deep down in there. He wrote the curse after all. If he's really here to find you, he'll have a way to wake up." And when he did, Regina was going to make sure to have his darling son well on her side. She and her former mentor had had their differences in the past, but she knew that he made a better ally than enemy. A safer one, if nothing else.

"I guess that's what those guys wanted. They thought I could... I don't know. Wake him up?"

"The man that took a shot at him? I heard about that. Do you know who attacked your father? The curse put me down in the place of mayor. I might be able to help you protect him."

"For what price?"

Regina chuckled. "You really are Rumple's son, aren't you? We were friends. I don't want to see him hurt, especially if he can't defend himself." She smiled sweetly and this poor man seemed to have latched onto the conversation like they were the only two sane people left in the world. In a way, they were, but it kept him from asking obvious questions like why she was one of the only ones that remembered their home and who she was. "Do you know who tried to hurt your father?"

Neal Cassidy frowned. "I think it was the Blue Fairy. That's who I met when I came here, and she introduced me to some other guys, and they shuffled me off to the guys that took me to that pawn shop. That's crazy, though. She wouldn't actually hurt my papa, would she?"

"If there's one thing I've learned about the Blue Fairy over the years it's that she's capable of just about anything." She straightened her back and her smile spread just a little more. "I'm sure you'd like to get some rest. I'll come visit you again tomorrow if you'd like and we can find a way to help your papa."

"Thanks, Mayor Mills. It's good to know I'm not the only one that gets it."

"Regina, please. And what should I call you? Neal's hardly a name from our home."

He offered a crooked smile. "No, it's not. Baelfire was the name my mother gave me, but I haven't gone by it in years. Neal's fine."

"Well, Neal," Regina said as she stood. "Welcome to Storybrooke. I'll see you in the morning.

Rumplestiltskin's son being in Storybrooke was most certainly a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Regina was quite certain she could turn this to her utmost advantage. She couldn't have Rumple dying, after all. Where would the fun be in that?

He hadn't meant to drop by the hospital on the way home, not that it was really on the way. Cleaning and straightening after that mess that day had taken longer than he had anticipated, as he found he didn't trust the people he'd hired to clean his floors to do the job without him there. They hadn't finished up until well past dinner time, and by the time he walked through the doors and into the hospital, he found no one sitting at the little circulation desk to direct him where to go. He'd been about ready to turn around and leave again when a voice stopped him.

"Mr Gold? Can I help you with something?"

Mary Margaret Blanchard was the name that his mind supplied to him. She was a school teacher or something like that. She rented a loft from him in a small building with five other units in it and always paid on time. Other than that he knew nothing about her, other than the fact that it had been her chipper little voice that had stopped his hasty retreat.

"It would appear that I missed visiting hours," he said stiffly.

A very small frown pulled at her lips. "By several hours," she confirmed. "Are you here to see the young man that saved your life? The whole town's just buzzing with it."

Great. Just what Gold wanted, to be part of the town's buzz. "I thought I'd check in for a moment, but it is late. I'll just-"

"I can get you in. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you. He was asking about you - well, once he came all the way around, anyway - and asking if you were okay."

That was interesting. The lad had acted as if he knew Gold, but no matter how much the shop owner combed through his memories, he was certain that he had never met him.

"I can take you back there," Mary Margaret offered sweetly and he was stuck now.

"I don't even know his name," he told the volunteer.

"Neal Cassidy. Come on. You did come over here, after all."

He resisted the urge to grumble as he limped after the dark haired woman. The halls were nearly deserted with the exception of a nurse that nearly knocked them over in her haste to get somewhere. Mary Margaret led him to a room and pushed the door open. Gold clutched his cane tightly and waved the girl off even as young Mr Cassidy stirred. He was certain that hadn't been the name that he gave in the shop. There was something about him - other than the fact he had saved the elder man's life, he thought - that had him there. It was strange and he couldn't explain it. At least, he didn't want to think on it long enough to.

"Hey," the drowsy voice met him, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Mr Gold, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Good to see you're okay."

Gold quirked an eyebrow. He hardly knew why the lad should care, but he'd acted as if he'd known him before, or at least he had thought he had.

"Listen, I know I must have sounded kind of funny when I came in there," he said and he looked a little embarrassed with himself. "I... These guys sent someone to me saying that my dad was in some sort of trouble. I haven't seen him or spoken to him in a long time, and when I saw you... You look a lot like him."

Gold didn't know what to say so he shifted uncomfortably, positioning his cane directly in front of him like a barrier. "I don't have a son," he started and a rough laugh came from the injured young man.

"Yeah, you'd mentioned that before," he answered almost sadly and for the life of him Gold couldn't figure out why he felt so guilty. It wasn't his fault that this young man's father had gone off and left him or whatever the hell had happened between them. He didn't know, and he didn't want to know, he reminded himself firmly. He wouldn't be staying anyway. "Any idea who those guys were?"

"No, I didn't recognize them. I assume you've given your statement, little good it'll do?"

"No faith in the system here, huh?" Neal chuckled.

A small smile managed to perk at his lips. "Not so much. I don't want to keep you. I just… wanted to thank you. For saving my life today, of course."

Neal returned the smile, though his was a little more lopsided. "Sure."

An uncomfortable silence spread between them and Gold cleared his throat. "Well then, be safe traveling back to wherever you're from," he said abruptly and turned. If Neal said anything more he didn't hear it as he scurried out as fast as his weak leg would allow and rounded the corner so fast that he nearly took Mary Margaret off her feet.

"How did it go?" she asked, repositioning her purse on her shoulder and looking like she was ready to leave for the night.

"It went, Miss Blanchard, now if you'll excuse me," Gold growled, ready to sidestep around.

"Mr Gold, did you even go in?" the usually very mousy little teacher asked and he thought it really was his luck that it would be his business she'd choose to jump in the middle of. Not that he wanted her there.

"Of course I did."

"It's not every day you get to thank the person that saved your life, Mr Gold. He could have been hurt a lot worse than he was or even killed."

"I don't know what concern it is of yours," he snapped, but it wasn't all on her and even he knew that. He was well aware that he owed the boy his life, but repaying that wasn't so easily done. One doesn't just drop off a pot of flowers or a card and call it a day. Better to leave it entirely alone with the attempted thank you than to continue to botch it up. He heaved a sigh and glanced back at towards the hall that led to the room, then to the pile of papers Mary Margaret was carrying. "What is all of that?"

She scrunched her nose up a little. "Just paperwork. He doesn't have any kind of insurance, so he's likely to get quite a bill over all of this."

Well, there was an answer if he'd ever seen one staring him in the face. Money had always been something he understood so much better than he did people and their need for emotional connections that landed them in more pain than they'd started. "Miss Blanchard, I believe I need a small favour from you if you have just a moment."

TBC

Notes:

Oh Regina. Trying to out-plan Rumple. You know, I'd forgotten how much I loved S1 Regina before I started in on this. She's a great deal of fun to write. Hope everyone had a fantastic New Years! If anyone is over on Tumblr there's a contest that's going on right now that will hopefully supply some really fun Rumbelle short stories over the next few weeks. You get to vote for your favourites and everything. You can find it here: http://rumbelleshowdown.tumblr.com.

It looks like a lot of fun. I think the first round of stories are supposed to be up in a week or so.

Next time - Neal has to figure out who he can trust in this crazy little town while trying to find a way to reach his papa.

Chapter Text

5.

The Blue Fairy swept through the convent in a rage. It wasn't often that her temper flew out of check - she was the ultimate good of their world, after all - but she had heard a very disturbing rumour that morning. Not only was she uncomfortable with the actual event, but the fact that she hadn't heard until then worried her even more. Magnus was not living up to his word of working with her on this, but was taking things into his own hands. Blue liked to think she approached most problems in a level sort of manner, but this was outrageous. Magnus had assured her that he had everything under control. He had been meticulous - both before the curse was actually cast and in the seventeen years that they'd been there - in his planning. He had everything worked out and ready, he had just been waiting for Baelfire to wake Rumplestiltskin up. She still wasn't entirely sure why that was necessary, other than to put a bit of closure to the violent and terrible relationship that the lead cleric had developed with the current Dark One. She'd always thought that it could potentially cloud his judgement, but now she was certain of it.

She found him standing in one of the innermost rooms of the convent, appearing as if he were staring at the flames leaping out of the fireplace. He didn't acknowledge her, though she knew that he heard her enter, and she huffed irritatedly. She would not be ignored. "Your man shot Baelfire."

"I'm handling it," Magnus answered, not bothering to turn to her. "You needn't worry yourself over it."

"Handling it?" Blue demanded, circling around so that even if he couldn't look her in the eye, she could see his. "I'd very much like to know how. As far as I understand, Quinn is dead after nearly killing Baelfire. This was not-"

"Don't be absurd, Ruel Ghorm. The boy is fine, and it was his own doing that the bullet even clipped him."

"I think it's time you tell me what you know," Blue said tightly.

Magnus shrugged in response, and she was certain that he wasn't taking this seriously enough. Somehow he seemed to forget that this world was very different than their own. No one knew who the Dark One was here - even the Dark One himself - and it would be seen as murder should they be caught in it. She was willing to give everything to do away with the great evil that was the Dark One's Curse, but that didn't mean that they had to be utter fools in it.

"Caiden intercepted Ellis before he ran too far. The Dark One let him go to save his son. It may not have worked, he may not have woken up, but we are close." He perked, tilting his head toward her. "Have you visited him?"

"Baelfire? Absolutely not. He knows me, Magnus, and he was always a bright boy. It won't take a great deal for him to put everything together."

"He won't think you're the enemy."

"He will. His father will make sure of it." Blue sighed heavily, feeling a migraine working its way in. They had to regain control of this before it spiralled. "You must be more careful, Magnus."

"Quinn has paid the price for is foolishness and Ellis will not be linked to us. Do you still have the puppet?"

"Yes," the fairy answered, not liking the tone of his voice. "We asked that he stay last night. I meant to let him go to his father this afternoon."

"No. Not yet. Have him go to Baelfire instead."

"To what end?"

"To gain an understanding of where he stands." He turned, his shoulders squared and his head held high. "And Ruel Ghorm, do not let it be misunderstood. I will do what I have to to gain the puppet's loyalty. Hold tight to the strings or I will take them from you."

"Don't lose sight of what we've set to do," Blue warned quietly as she turned to the door. "We're ridding out world of evil. Don't slip off the edge yourself."

He didn't answer her and she knew a dismissal when she received one. Her frown deepened and she steeled herself for a conversation with Pinocchio.

Neal felt both better and worse when they released him from the hospital the next day. His headache was starting to ease, but his side still ached where the bullet had grazed him. No, he decided, ache wasn't the right word. Hurt, burned, and irritated came closer, but hey, at least it hadn't been a poisoned tipped arrow. Point for the small blessings in life.

Not to mention big ones. He'd been shocked to hear that the medical bill had already been paid, and when the nurse at the front refused to give him a name, he thought he knew who had done it.

"You look better today."

Neal turned to find Regina Mills smiling at him in that well rehearsed way. She'd been abrasive and cold when she'd first come into his hospital room the day before, but if she was the only person other than the Blue Fairy and her creepy friends that remembered who she was... well, Neal couldn't exactly blame her. "Yeah, besides the lasting headache and the fact that stitched are a total bitch," he chuckled.

"I don't know how I didn't see the resemblance before," the mayor remarked. "You really do favour your father quite a bit, you know."

Neal snorted. "What? Has he gotten more sarcastic?"

"Wasn't he always?"

"No, not really," he said thoughtfully, reaching back into memories long buried under layers of pain. His papa had always had a wit, sharper than anyone would have ever imagined, but he was afraid to use it. As a child it had been difficult to understand why the other villagers had hated him so much, and even now he wasn't sure he completely understood it. Not that Regina knew that man of course. She knew the Dark One, the devilish imp that had taken his father over in his attempt to save his son from a war that might or might not have killed him. She seemed nice enough, though, and his papa had come looking for him, so maybe before he'd lost his memories he'd found something more of himself amidst the darkness he'd been drowning in.

"Will you be staying?" Regina asked when he didn't say anything more.

"Yeah, for a little bit at least. I flew across the country to help my papa, and I'm not going to leave at the first sign of a problem."

"You're a brave one, aren't you?" the mayor mused and fished something out of her purse. She handed him a card with a number pressed into it and what he assumed was the town hall's address. "My card, in case you need to get ahold of me. I'm happy to do whatever I can to help."

"Thanks. Umm, a place to stay, maybe? Do you guys have a motel or something?"

"Granny's Inn is the only real hotel in town. It's connected to the diner."

He nodded, glancing down the direction that she indicated. He only had a bag with him and it hardly seemed worth the trouble if he was going to walk over to the shop after. Instead he repositioned the bag on his shoulder and offered the mayor a smile. "Thanks, Regina. It's...good to know I'm not going crazy."

She watched him a moment. "It can get lonely standing alone," she murmured with a sad smile. "Call me if you need anything."

He nodded and they parted ways. Suddenly he did feel very alone. It had seemed like such a good idea to waltz into the shop and offer to buy Mr Gold lunch as a thank you. That made sense, didn't it? It hadn't seemed quite so intimidating when he'd first decided on it, but now the shop might as well have been on top of the tallest mountain. He could leave, he knew, and he hardly thought anyone might have the right to blame him for it. His papa had betrayed him and left him to fend for himself. Rumplestiltskin had done him no favours once he'd let go, allowing his only son to slip down into the void so that he was tossed into another world. He'd been so focused on the fact that his father had come to this world for him and that he needed his help that he hadn't stopped too long to think on the fact that it had been at least two centuries and likely more. The moments his mind had wandered to it, he'd told himself that his papa could give him those answers, but now… now he wasn't sure. Maybe he should just turn and leave.

Neal stopped outside of Mr Gold's pawn shop and he hadn't felt so much like Baelfire in many, many years. His chest ached as he looked up at the sign and he told himself to turn around. Experience showed that his father would only disappoint him and hurt him again, and Emma was waiting for him. He loved her. He wanted a life with her. What kind of life could they have if he was constantly allowing his terrible, bitter past to invade his present?

It all made sense, but it wasn't sense that governed him as he reached forward and pushed the door in, walking over the threshold of the shop. He expected to feel a rush of something, just like he had the days after his papa had cast protection spells all over their little hovel to keep the world out, but nothing was there. This was the Land Without Magic and the only thing that announced his entrance was a little bell over the top of the door that rattled and clang, pulling the shop owner's attention over to him.

Mr Gold blinked. "Neal Cassidy. I expected you had gone home by this point."

"I thought I might stay," the younger man answered. "At least for a couple of days. Dr Whale wanted a follow-up anyway."

One dark eyebrow quirked upward, but Gold didn't say anything. He shrugged, and returned to the small figurine he had been polishing when the son he didn't know had entered. Neal pulled in a breath. There seemed to be less of the demon in him in this place, and if he dug deep enough, he might even find the man that he'd known below. This was something that he needed more than he could explain and more than he'd even allowed himself to think on in so many, many years, and somehow that bolstered his courage a little more. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did at the hospital. The nurse at the front told me that someone had paid the bill already."

"I don't know what you mean," came the automatic reaction, but he wouldn't turn to look at him.

A small smile played at the younger man's lips. "Uhhuh. Sure. You didn't have to, but I wanted to thank you. Let me buy you lunch?"

Dark brown eyes - very guarded, but still very familiar even after all the centuries - jerked up to look at him. "I thought that we agreed that we did not know each other, Mr Cassidy."

Neal blinked. "I just… wanted to say thank you."

"You saved my life. There's hardly any reason that you should bother with me past that. I have a shop to run, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, real busy today. I can tell." That received a glare and Neal offered him a crooked smile. "If I have to stay, you're the closest thing I have to an acquaintance here. You have to eat, right?"

"Why are you so determined?"

"Why are you?"

The frown that had been deepening bit by bit as the conversation continued tugged even further and the man that didn't know he was Rumplestiltskin leveled a glare worthy of the Dark One. Neal met it though and did his best not to waver under it. Finally he was met with a reward when Mr Gold heaved a sigh and motioned irritably. "Fine. I suppose I won't get rid of you until I do, though I can't drop everything at once like you apparently can. Do you know where Granny's is?"

"Just down the street."

"Mm. I'll be there in an hour."

Neal felt a grin take hold and he barely managed to contain it. "Great. Cool. Thanks."

It became apparent very quickly that Gold was done with that particular round of the conversation and Neal scooted out, his phone buzzing in his jeans as he stepped onto the street.

"Hey you. Find your dad?" Emma's voice met his ear and his smile only grew. "I figured when I didn't hear from you last night that you guys were getting caught up. Is he as bad as you remembered?"

"Different," Neal admitted carefully. "Definitely different."

"Good or bad?"

"Not sure yet."

"But you did find him?"

"Yeah."

"And is he in trouble?"

"Yeah, he's definitely in some sort of trouble. Listen, Emma, I don't know how long this is going to take. Are you good?"

"You know, I managed to handle myself just fine before you came along."

"Sure you did. You didn't even know to check the backseat of a car before you got in it."

"Most car thieves don't sleep in the back seat of the car they stole," his girlfriend pointed out and he laughed.

"You win," he said before it got too far. "Listen, I've got to run, but-"

"I love you," she cut him off and his smile turned a little goofy.

"Took the words out of my mouth. I love you too." He flipped the phone shut and looked at the entrance to the diner. Regina had said that the inn was connected, so he walked on in and took a look around. The place was empty, like the lunch crowd managed to keep themselves strictly to the eleven and twelve o'clock hours. It was nearly one then, and Gold hadn't seemed to be phased by that , but maybe he was the oddity in this strange little town.

"Hey there, cutie," a waitress said as she leaned against the bar. Her dark hair was streaked with the same candy-apple red that her lips were painted and she smacked loudly on her gum as she leaned, her shirt tied up and showing more skin than Neal would have thought a little town like this would have allowed. "You're the guy from the robbery, right?"

"Well, not the one doing the robbing," Neal answered with a grin of his own. "I'm actually looking for a room. I think I'm staying a few days."

"Really? We don't get a lot of visitors here."

"You're kind of out of the way," he admitted with a shrug. "The mayor said you guys have a motel or something attached to the diner…?"

"Yeah, Granny runs the inn. You want a room?"

"Yeah, if you have one."

She flashed pearly white teeth at him and motioned for him to follow her. When she rounded the counter all he saw were legs that went on for miles and he had to remind himself not to stare as he followed her through a hallway and into the back portion of the building. She grabbed a key, took his name, and sent him on his way to room four.

He seemed to be agreeing to a lot of things that he didn't really want to do, and for Mr Gold that was highly irregular. He was a creature of habit unlike any other - well, except for maybe most everyone in Storybrooke - and one of those habits that he'd cemented himself into fairly well over the years was the one that said that he never did anything that he wasn't inclined to do. If he didn't want a business deal to go through, it didn't come close. If he wanted a suit tailored just so, it had better be delivered that way. He was strict in it, meticulous, and people parted ways to let him pass.

But not Neal Cassidy.

Gold loosed a breath that rushed out closer to a growl than a sigh as he continued to scrub irritably at the little antique that had never done him any harm. The boy wouldn't take no for an answer, and while the shop owner would have turned anyone else out he found himself bending to this young man's desires and he couldn't understand why.

He slammed the little figurine down against the counter and huffed. He didn't have to go, a small voice seemed to remind him in the back of his head, though he'd given his word that he'd be there. His word was his bond and if Mr Gold lived by anything it was the promises that he made. Without contracts, without agreements, the world as they knew it would fall apart. Plenty of people didn't bother to keep their word, but if the people around him could rely on Mr Gold for one thing it was that he would always abide by an agreement. To the letter. It wasn't his fault that they didn't read every line provided.

Dark eyes flickered to one of the many clocks that ticked around the room. It was two o'clock, precisely one hour after he'd promised Neal that he'd be over at Granny's. He hadn't wanted to bother with lunch that day, just as he didn't bother with it most days. He had things to do, antiques to repair, and nicknacks to sort. He was a busy man. He certainly didn't need to waste time at that diner for any other reason than to collect rent. The food wasn't worth the time, much less the money.

Nevertheless he found himself wiping his hands on a clean cloth, pulling his cane from where it was hooked on the counter, and limping his way out the front door and down the main street after shrugging his coat on. The cold bit straight into him despite the layers that he wore and he winced, stepping carefully around a patch of ice in his path.

Granny's was empty with the exception of Neal Cassidy who sat in a table with his back to the inn entrance and he was nodding at all the right moments as Ruby leaned her hip against the table and talked. The young man's dark eyes focused behind her when Gold walked in though and he waved. Ruby, for her part, struggled to keep her smile.

"Ice tea, Mr Gold?"

"That'll be fine. Thank you, Ruby," he said and slipped into the opposite booth, swallowing the fact that he was late and he had to choose the seat with his back to the door.

"Not a beer guy, huh?" Neal asked, taking a sip of his own. "She has a good deal at lunch."

"I've never been a beer drinker," Gold answered with a shrug. "A good scotch or an occasional glass of wine, but never beer." He couldn't help but feel like he was being studied. Those dark brown eyes remained on him, and while they didn't quite make him uncomfortable, they didn't instill a sense of peace, either. There were a lot of emotions, almost too many to sort out, and he couldn't place why. He didn't like questions that he didn't have the answers to and this Neal Cassidy seemed to be a walking pile of them.

He apparently wasn't a fan of silence either. "So where are you from?"

"Aren't you the visitor here?" Gold pointed out blandly as Ruby set an ice tea down in front of him and he waved her off as she confirmed his usual order.

Neal grinned. "Yeah, well, I'm not the one that sounds like I'm from England."

Gold bristled. "Scotland, actually."

At least he had the good graces to look as if he realized he'd said the wrong thing. "Sorry, I… uh… Kind of grew up out in the middle of nowhere. There are a lot of random facts that most everyone knows that somehow slipped right past me. I think accents may be one of those."

The elder man snorted, but let it go. "And where are you from, Mr Cassidy?"

Neal grimaced a little. "Some place that you've never heard of, Mr Gold, that I know." His expression turned sad for a moment, but he shrugged it off and turned back to look at the man that he'd saved. "So what brought you to Storybrooke?"

The shop owner shrugged. "What takes a man anywhere? Business and a change of scenery. I went to law school in Boston."

"You're a lawyer?"

"Indeed I am."

"So lawyer, pawnbroker, antique restorer, and Ruby says you're their landlord?"

"Theirs and a few others."

He didn't normally give out this sort of information, not that anyone cared to ask. Mr Gold was a notoriously private man and people left him to that, but this man seemed bent on digging deeper and deeper. Each question should have been met with a vague answer, but somehow he seemed to work his way past the walls and, heaven help him, put the older man at an ease that he hadn't felt in years. He found himself chatting with this stranger and it wasn't until the meal was winding down that he finally allowed himself to realize why that was. He'd been fighting it. If he didn't think about it, didn't acknowledge it, it wasn't true. Now, though, as he looked at those brown eyes that his smile reached, he knew who Neal Cassidy reminded him of.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Gold blinked. "No. No, you didn't. I just... " He shouldn't tell him. It was none of his business and it wasn't like anyone knew. He made sure of it. "I just realized why you seem so damn familiar."

Neal blinked owlishly and looked almost hopeful. "Yeah?"

"I told you I don't have a son, and while that's technically true, I did once." His chest clenched painfully and something inside of him clamped down hard. It wasn't this boy's business. He shouldn't tell him. Over and over he tried to remind himself of that, but those excuses were wearing thin. "You'd be about his age if he'd lived and I think you look a lot like he would. I suppose that makes sense. You said you mistook me for your own father at first. I suppose everyone has a double, or so they say."

For the first time since Gold had sat at the table, Neal was quiet, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before pulling in a deep breath. "What happened to him?"

Gold had spent years banishing the memories and forcing himself past them. "Car crash," the words left his lips thickly. "Same one that tore my ankle up. It killed my boy and left me crippled. My wife left not long after that and I moved to America to begin again."

"I'm sorry," Neal whispered.

"It's been many years," Gold said dismissively and looked over to where Ruby was stepping out of the kitchen. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a few bills.

"Hey, I was supposed to be thanking you for-"

"Nonsense." He paid and stood immediately after. He turned, but found only the source of many years of guilt staring back at him. It was impossible. His son was dead and had been for more years than he had cared to count in quite some time. "If you'll excuse me?"

He didn't give him a chance to argue, but left the diner as fast as his mangled ankle would allow and didn't look back. He didn't dare. Neal Cassidy couldn't replace his long-dead son and he would leave this place once the doctors and sheriff cleared him to do so. There was no reason to get attached. Things simply didn't change in Storybrooke, and on the rare occasion that they did, it was never for the better.

He had thought he'd get to see his papa, but it had become clear very quickly that he wasn't a free man. Oh, he could walk around and if he so chose he might even drop by Marco's little shop, but his papa wouldn't recognize him. He'd be a stranger to him, and as he approached Neal in the street he was certain that he couldn't handle that.

August Booth offered a wave and jogged to catch up. "Hey, Neal, you okay? I heard about what happened."

Neal, for his part, looked a little weary. "Yeah, and where have you been?"

"Held up."

"Yeah, by the people you brought me to? Listen, I know you said my dad was in trouble, but you didn't say that your friends were the reason behind it."

The author took a physical step back and for the first time he thought he might be able to buy the fact that this man was the Dark One's son. He'd gone from a rather sad and depressed state to fuming within five seconds at the absolute most, and the fury radiating off him was a little unnerving. He held his hands up palms outward. "I didn't know, I swear. I didn't even know who your dad was until I overheard them, and then they wouldn't let me leave."

"You show up out of nowhere, haul me to the other side of the country, and then someone takes a cheap shot at my dad."

"I just said I didn't-"

"And then your nose grew just a little. Unless you want a black eye to go with it, I'd suggest you get out of here."

"Neal, I'm sure you have questions-"

"No, I really don't. Your little fairy friends and her crazy-ass whatever-they-are are using some curse that this whole town is under to try to kill my father. I don't really care about the why's, August, I just care that they're trying to do it."

August blinked. "You know about the curse?"

"No thanks to you."

"Yeah, but who have you been talking to? No one that's here should know except for Blue and Magnus and his clerics. Unless… Neal, you can't trust Regina."

The younger man snorted. "Because I can trust you so much? I'll take my chances on who I choose to trust. Good luck, August. Don't let Blue tug your strings too hard."

Blue eyes stared widely as the Dark One's son walked off, waving over his shoulder before stuffing his hands in his pockets. He'd gone to the Evil Queen for help. That or she'd found him. There was no good way to turn now. As long as Magnus threatened his papa, August couldn't directly help Neal.

But he loved Emma, and Emma probably loved him. August pulled in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. No, he couldn't help him directly, but he'd be damned if he didn't help him at all. No matter what the Blue Fairy said, that was the right thing to do.

TBC

Notes:

Next time - Neal starts to grow frustrated with his lack of options, but when another attempt on Mr Gold's life is made, he may find what he's been looking for.

Chapter Text

6.

The last person Neal had wanted to see when he left Granny's diner had been August Booth. The way that his papa - the way that Gold - had fled after seeming to open up - perhaps even remembering him on some subconscious level that this crazy curse was trying to interpret - had been like a kick to the gut. He had thought he was so close and then he'd just run. While that was very much like his papa, he didn't have to like it. Even in the days before the Dark Curse, Rumplestiltskin hadn't run from him. He was his son, his only child. Surely that had to transcend even a memory erasing curse, right?

Then that lying little bastard had shown up. All Neal had wanted to do was go for a walk and clear his mind, maybe talk to Emma, but no. He couldn't even do that. He had to be ambushed by the man that couldn't leave him well enough alone. If August had never shown up he would never have known that his papa was here and he wouldn't feel obligated to help. Granted, if he hadn't known he was here, he wouldn't have come and those men likely would have attacked him anyway, leaving Gold dead on his own shop floor in just another robbery gone bad. Mr Gold never would have had a chance to remember that he was really Rumplestiltskin and that he had crossed worlds to get to his son. Assuming that that was true. Neal had no way to know for sure until he came back to himself.

August had even tried to turn him against the only ally he'd managed to find. Regina had been nothing but helpful. She was informed and intelligent, likely a sorceress in her own right if she'd befriended the Dark One and knew as much as she did. If the little puppet thought he was going to drive a wedge there, he'd be left wanting for quite some time.

It took hours for Neal to settle down enough that he thought he could go back to the hotel. The air had turned colder than it had been that sunny afternoon and his coat wasn't nearly heavy enough for it. He pulled it close and stomped up the stairs, leaving a trail of snow and muck behind him. It had taken those hours to come to terms with a few things.

The first was that while he didn't trust August, there was nothing he could do about it. Not yet. Whale had thought it was the concussion talking when he'd told them in the hospital that the fairies had been behind it. He wasn't going to repeat that mistake.

The second was that he wouldn't take the easy route out. He'd been arguing with himself and had thought that he had found his solid ground in that, but the reaction that he received at the end of lunch had hurt more than he liked to admit. He didn't know quite who to trust and there was danger lurking around every corner. He was approaching the shadows with this mess and anything could happen, but he was determined not to let it deter him.

That was really the only thing that kept him going when Gold refused to speak to him. He didn't kick him out of the shop the next day when he dropped by, nor the next, but he didn't really speak to him either. The shop owner found other things to busy himself with and left Neal to wander the storefront and try to glean a little more information about the man that his papa was hidden behind. The walls were up and Gold was firmly behind them with Rumplestiltskin buried even deeper. Neal forced himself to walk through that door every day for a week, though, each time trying to drum up a conversation or even more than a few words.

Regina wasn't certain how to bring Rumplestiltskin forward. She seemed to think there was a way, at least, but she seemed certain that he had prepared himself to wake at whatever time that he had planned to come after his son and not a moment sooner.

"It gets a bit dull," the mayor admitted one afternoon as they sat at Granny's together. "All the little people scurrying around you and you're the only one really here." She took a sip from her coffee cup and peered over it. "Your father is a very intelligent man. I'm sure he has a plan."

"I just wish I knew what it was."

"You and me both," she murmured, and she seemed to be enjoying a private joke. "Is he still not speaking to you?"

"Not really. I mean, he's as nice to me as he is any other customer that walks in and isn't trying to shoot him, I guess."

Regina snorted a laugh.

"Did he really never mention me?"

"Your father plays everything very close, Neal. That's just who he is. He probably thought he was protecting you by keeping even his closest friends from finding out."

"He was always so convinced that someone would want to hurt me," Neal sighed. "Now I'm worried about someone hurting him."

"You're a good son," Regina said quietly.

"You know, Blue said something like that. Twice, actually, but I think I'm more inclined to believe it from you." He paused, his head tilting just a little to the side. "Where did you meet my dad?"

Regina didn't answer right away, and when she did she glanced around as if to make sure that no one was around to hear. "I studied under him."

"Seriously? Papa taught you?"

"Yes, he did. He is quite a good teacher when he puts his mind to it, but don't you dare tell him I said so."

"My lips are sealed," Neal said with a grin. He tried to imagine his father - or, at least, that strange combination of his papa and the raging Dark One that he'd become - teaching anyone, much less Regina. She seemed so kind. Guarded, true, but still kind. She'd been willing to help him when others had simply wanted to use him. He didn't know what he'd do if he hadn't met her. He probably would have run screaming from the utter insanity that was Storybrooke.

"Are you going by his shop today?" Regina asked conversationally.

"Yeah. I'm planning on it."

"Does he seem to recognize you at all when you do?"

"Only as Neal," Neal said sadly. He never would have thought that would be a bad thing. Neal was a safety net while Bae was his troubled and very dangerous past. He'd been happy to put it all behind him when he'd returned from Neverland, but now there was a strange comfort in the fact that someone knew him for who he really was. It was like a refugee coming out of hiding.

"I spoke to the sheriff last night, and he seems to think they're closing in on the attacker that got away."

Neal blinked, setting his fork back down to the plate, lasagna temporarily forgotten. "Yeah? Has he made an arrest?"

"Not yet."

"Who is it?"

"I didn't ask."

"Well why the hell not? His buddy tried to kill my dad."

"Even if he is caught, the curse may never let this go to trial. Where would they put him if convicted? No one can leave this place."

Neal stared. Regina had explained various details of the curse over the stretch of the week. Time was frozen in Storybrooke. Clocks didn't tick, lives were lived in a sort of foggy existence, and while false memories were implanted, if he were to try to pin down a date or some other detail the person would likely not be able to tell him. He'd tried it out a couple of times. Gold couldn't seem to recall the exact date he'd graduated law school and moved to Maine, Granny couldn't give an exact account of how many years either of her businesses had been open, and so on and so forth.

"I still have trouble believing Papa did all of this to get to me," he said quietly. "I mean, are people happy here? Did he curse a whole group of people just so that he could find a place to slip between the worlds? I'm not a magic expert or anything, but I would think that would take a lot of skill on top of power."

"It does indeed," Regina said with a mysterious smile and she motioned for the check. "I have some things to take care of this evening at town hall. If you need me, you know where to find me."

Neal nodded and offered a wave as she stood. "Give me a call if you find out any more about this guy?"

"Of course."

He watched her leave and sighed. He hadn't made it over to the shop yet and it was starting to get late now. If he didn't go pretty soon he might miss him altogether. It was starting to weigh on him, but determination kept him going back. His papa had come looking for him, so there had to be a way to jolt him back to himself. He just wished that he knew how.

Regina pulled the collar of her jacket up around her ears and sank down into it so that her dark red scarf covered half of her face, separating her from the chilly December evening. Things might actually be looking up. A stranger in her town had not boded well before, but this one had turned into a real treat. Neal was clever, even if a bit more trusting than his father, and so very desperate for someone that understood. She couldn't blame him. It was easy to feel like the lone person on a tiny little island in the middle of the ocean in this world. She wasn't the only one with her memories, of course, but Jefferson hardly counted. He wasn't much for socialising anyway. Nor was Maleficent.

Not that they were the only ones to remember. The Evil Queen scowled at the thought. That damn blue bug had somehow managed to come through with her memories intact and brought someone with her. She couldn't be sure who the little henchmen Blue had working for her were, but Regina would bet that the lead fairy was using them to keep her own hands clean. Typical fairy. Typical Blue. She just couldn't help but stick her nose into everything, but she kept herself so high above it all that no one saw her for who she truly was. At least Regina admitted to being what she was. She had no disillusions about it. She had long since embraced the darkness, just as Rumple had taught her to. Blue, on the other hand, never would, and that would be her own foolishness.

"Hey!" a voice called out from the otherwise empty street. She didn't recognize the voice, so Regina ignored him, carrying on with her trudging towards Town Hall. It wasn't until she heard footsteps approaching behind her and the term "Your Majesty" tumble from the stranger's lips that she turned, finding an unfamiliar face staring back at her.

"Who the hell are you?" she bit out crossly.

He looked like he was trying very hard to act brave as he circled around her to stand in her way. "August Booth, but that's not important."

"You're right. It's not. The fact that you're in my way is. Now get out." He followed the step she tried to make to get around him and her glare darkened. "Are you deaf?"

"I know that you're playing Neal for something," he said in a rush and suddenly she knew who he was.

A slow, menacing smile crossed her painted lips. "Well then, you're the boy that brought him into Storybrooke, aren't you? Marco's long-lost son. The puppet. I see that the Blue Fairy is still pulling your strings."

Booth grimaced at that and she knew she'd struck a chord. "Who I am doesn't matter," he mumbled. "What matters is that Neal gets his dad and gets as far away from this as possible."

"No one can leave Storybrooke," Regina answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Rumple isn't going anywhere, and from what I've seen, neither is his son. You should have thought about all of this before you dragged Baelfire into this cursed little town."

"I didn't know before. If I had, I would never have brought him here in the first place." Regina knew guilt when she saw it and it was weighing heavily on the puppet-turned-boy that had grown up since she'd cast the curse. She had no idea how he'd gotten to this world, but she had a pretty good idea how he'd found them. That damn fairy was going to meet her end in a ball of fire.

"Such a sad tale." the queen remarked and this time she got around him. "Though from what I hear he won't believe a word of it. A bit of advice, puppet, if you're going to betray someone, they shouldn't find out until you've won."

"There's no winning with Magnus."

Magnus. Now that caught her attention. Regina had heard that name before. He was the lead cleric of a sect that had devoted their entire existence to destroying the Dark One's Curse and the man under it. They had been around long before Rumple, from what she understood, but he had been the one to knock heads with them for the last three centuries. She heard about them in passing from her former teacher, but could never wheedle any details from him.

Regina turned on the puppet. "Magnus is here? In Storybrooke?"

Booth frowned. "If you have any loyalty left to Rumplestiltskin you'll find a way to get him out from under this curse. I can't say anymore. You're right," he said with a mirthless laugh, "they have too tight a hold on me."

A small piece of her felt a hint of pity for him, but she crushed it instantly. "That doesn't make you very useful, does it?" she growled. "Do you know what I do with useless things?"

"No worse than he can do to me, I promise you," Booth answered, his blue eyes clear. "He won't listen to my warnings anymore, so maybe he'll listen to you. He's got someone that loves him where he came from. If he and his dad can get out, you can continue on the way you and everyone's happy except… well, you know." Everyone. The word wasn't said, but it was hanging in the air between them.

The boy really was frightened. Or he was smart. Names had power and Regina knew that well. She didn't say anything further as she tilted her head up and started back in the direction she'd been heading, her mind whirling. Magnus and his clerics had somehow made it through with the curse and had managed to retain their memories. That was powerful magic of a kind that she was certain she would know even in this world if she ran across it. Rumple would too, she realized, even if he was buried deeply beneath Gold. Her thoughts jerked roughly over to the conversation they'd had over a question that seemed to plague the shop owner, if he'd admit it or not: Jacob Dawson.

Regina moved straight to her desk when she entered her office and pulled a drawer open. She'd set Sindey after more information when her own initial research came up with nothing useful. He'd found a little more, and now that she was looking at the paperwork with a new perspective she was certain. Her dark eyes continued to skim the file he'd delivered to her and she pulled out her cell and dialed a familiar number. "Graham? It's me. Remember that cook at Granny's you had the lead on? The one from the armed robbery at Gold's? I think I may know who he's working for. Come by my place tonight and we can chat."

There was going to be a day when Rumplestiltskin woke up, and when he did he was going to owe her. Big time.

Gold was tired. He had a tendency to run himself ragged, but since Neal Cassidy had come to town he'd barely slept. Every night he woke screaming a name he didn't know, and when he tried to recall what the dream had been about it would slip away from him as if his mind simply refused to hold onto any details for it. All he knew was that they haunted him, leaving him exhausted when he woke, and anything meaningful was lost to the haze of sleep.

He had decided to close down early that night. It was the first time he'd done so in ages, but he hadn't seen Neal that day and he thought of he could slip out now he might avoid seeing him at all. If he didn't see him, if he didn't make eye contact with the man that somehow reminded him of his long-dead son, maybe he could get some sleep.

Snow was falling lightly from the sky as Gold limped along towards his old Cadillac at an unhurried pace. He'd always liked the cold. It cleared his mind and let him think. It was always a nice excuse to curl up next to one of his ornate fireplaces at home and tinker at one of the projects he currently had at the house. He rounded the corner into the wide alley and started down towards his car.

Screeching tires echoed through the quiet street and Gold looked up, seeing a boxy Volkswagen squealing around the corner and barrelling straight towards him. He watched it for half a moment, certain that they would veer back to the other side of the road. His car was always parked there, after all, and it was impossible to miss.

It became evident that the driver had no intention of slowing down or pulling over. There was no way to hobble over to his side of the street in time, so Gold did what his weak ankle would allow him do to get to the other side of the alleyway. The tires squealed and he wasn't sure if it was a patch of ice or his own haste that sent him tumbling against the hard asphalt of the street, but it was a good thing he did. The Volkswagen slammed into the Cadillac's back left bumper, pulling it around with it and sending it spinning out into the middle of the alley. He'd been standing there moments before, but now he was scrambling as best he could to get out of the car's way as it sped closer to him. The driver was trying to run him over. That was the only explanation, even if it didn't make any sense. He managed to roll out of the way and by the time that he righted himself the car was gone and halfway down the main street.

Mr Gold's sat there for a long moment, taking a mental inventory. His ankle ached terribly and he'd managed to put a hole in the knee of his expensive slacks. His cane had clattered away in the fall, likely scuffed and dirtied from the fall, but if that was the worse that he walked away with, he thought he could live with that. What he couldn't live with was not knowing what the hell was going on. A week before he'd nearly been shot down in his own shop and tonight a car had just about run him into the ground outside of it. In a town where nothing had changed in all the years he'd been there, an awful lot seemed to be happening.

"Mr Gold? You okay?"

And that particular young man had something to do with it, he was certain. He was the only factor that continuously didn't add up.

"Besides nearly being run down outside my place of business, I'm grand," the shop owner snapped.

Neal frowned as he moved closer. "They got really close, didn't they?" he murmured and Gold's dark eyes darted over and glared irritably.

"Well if you have any information to share as to who they are that would be wonderful."

That turned the younger man's expression a little nervous. "I wish I did. Regina said-"

"Oh Regina sticks her nose into any situation that it doesn't belong in," Gold growled as he finally pulled himself to his feet and dusted his ruined slacks off the best he could. "Unless you know something of some actual use, I'd rather you let me well enough alone."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you figure out who these guys are and what they want..."

"No one asked you too. In fact, they didn't show up until you did, so if you'd really like to do me a favour you'll just leave."

He was fuming, and while the more logical end of his brain somehow knew that this probably wasn't Neal's fault - if everything he had said was true he was pulled in as an unexpecting pawn to the whole damn thing and they hadn't even gotten that right - but that just didn't matter at the moment. Right then Gold needed an outlet for the frustration, for the confusion, and yes, if he were honest with himself, for the fear that he'd been feeling. For the past week he hadn't been able to shake the feeling that someone was watching him. Strange things were happening all over the place, but he seemed to be the only one that noticed. People were popping up where they had never been before and they were watching him. He'd always leaned just a little to the side of the paranoid, but he wasn't imagining it. Tonight proved it and Mr Gold wanted it to end. No matter the cost.

Neal Cassidy looked like he'd been struck, but Gold waved him off. "You said you have a father out there that you thought you were going to help. Go help him and leave me be."

"Fine," he managed. "If that's really what you want. There's no taking it back if it is. If I go, I'm not coming back this time."

"Why on earth would I care if you ever come back to Storybrooke?" Gold snapped, filtering a little more irritation into his voice that was really left there. The boy just needed to leave. He would leave and things would return to normal. He liked normal. Normal was good for business and apparently good for his health.

A ringtone filled the otherwise quiet night air and Neal stuck his hand into his jacket pocket and tugged his phone out. "Hey, Emma," he greeted, turning his back to the elder man. Whatever else he said to the girl on the other end of the line was lost to Gold though, as the world shifted under his feet. It tilted and rocked and nearly brought him to his knees. In that moment, that terrible and frightening moment, Mr Gold shattered into millions of tiny pieces. More to the point, the façade of Mr Gold broke to pieces and left Rumplestiltskin standing in his place on a dark street in the middle of a tiny, cursed town on the coasts of Maine.

Emma, his mind supplied through the raging memories and three hundred years worth of knowledge. Emma. Emma. Emma. What a lovely name. It had been that name that broke him free, that name that had shook him awake. He had to remember to breathe, but his body didn't seem to be obeying him at that moment. Images and words and names flew in and fought for a place at the forefront of his mind until it did finally take him to his knees. He wasn't ready for this. He'd been ready for it eventually, but this was too early. It had been just over seventeen years since the curse was cast. They had eleven more to go. That had been the prophecy, but only the savior's name could have woken him. Then it struck him: a memory from just a moment before. Mr Gold's harsh words and a young man that had saved the shop owner's life looking like his father had betrayed him. Again. Because he had.

"Bae." The name left his lips in a broken whisper. It sounded like a shout in the cold night and his breath showed as he looked up from his place where his knees had given and his son - his son! How could he not have known? - turned with the phone still pressed to his ear.

Dark eyes so like Rumplestiltskin's own widened just a little. "Emma, I'm going to have to call you back. I'll see you in a couple of days." The phone clicked shut and he looked as if he were trying to hide his worry. "Did the car actually hit you? Listen, I get that you don't really like me for whatever reason you have stuck in that mind of yours, but that's stupid to-"

"Bae," Rumplestiltskin repeated and he could barely get the name past the lump in his throat. He struggled to his feet, completely forgetting that his ankle was as useless in this world as it had been before he'd taken on his curse in the last. It buckled under him and he pitched forward, Baelfire's hands reaching out to catch him. He wasn't close enough and he hit the ground hard again, a soft cry escaping him. It didn't matter. Bae was there. He could still fix this. He could fix Gold's mistake, his own mistakes. He could fix this. He had to.

"Papa?" Bae asked tentatively, and Rumplestiltskin could hardly blame his son for being nervous.

"I'm so sorry, son," he rasped and their eyes met.

Slowly a disbelieving smile spread across Baelfire's lips. "You remember?"

"Yes. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave. I'm so sorry." He needed to tell him why he was here, and how he'd worked since the day that Bae had dropped through that terrible portal to get to him. He was a young man in his early twenties. Likely very little time at all had passed for him, but for his papa it had been centuries. Surely Rumplestiltskin had suffered enough for his terrible mistake. He hoped he had. All he wanted was his boy.

Bae's arms wrapped around his neck and the explanation died in his mind as he hugged his only child back, whispering his name again and again. He had found him and Bae hadn't turned him away. The scene had played out in his mind countless times over the years - nearly on repeat as he sat in the Charmings' not-so-charming cell beneath the mines - and in so many different ways. Sometimes Bae had been a child still, frozen in time as if his papa had come right after him. The worse thoughts that he'd hoped were not visions were the ones where he found a grave marker and he'd been too late. He hadn't, though. He'd found his son alive and well, or better yet, Bae had found him.

"I'm so sorry, Bae," Rumplestiltskin whispered again.

"You said that already," his son tried for a tease, and he looked as tentative about the situation and Rumplestiltskin felt.

"I need you to know I'm not just saying it. I've been looking for a way - any way - to find you for three centuries." His vision blurred and he didn't mind the tears that stood in his eyes. "I love you, Bae. I'm so sorry, son."

Bae wrapped his arms around him again and buried his nose in the crook of his papa's neck. They held onto each other like that on the street across from the pawn shop. "I'd wondered how long it was for you," Bae whispered and pulled back.

He blurred dangerously, but his papa only chuckled. "Guess that's why my head's pounding like it is. Lots of memories all at once."

"Are you okay?"

"No," he said in a small, honest voice. "But I will be. I wasn't… I thought it'd be some time yet. Everything wasn't in place."

"Sorry to bust up your plans."

"The plan was to find you. The path… doesn't matter."

"Papa?"

His head was swimming now and the two Baelfires he had been seeing slowly split into three. He would be fine, he meant to promise again, but he didn't have time as his mind gave under the sudden pressure and everything went black.

TBC

Notes: Sorry I haven't gotten back to anyone on reviews the last bit of time. I've been sick all week. To the point that I'm literally awake long enough to post this and shuffle back off to bed.

Next time - Bae and Rumple discuss where to go from there and loyalties are questioned.

Chapter Text

7.

Thankfully they'd already been kneeling on the ground when his papa keeled over. Neal had seen it coming, at least, in the way that his eyes lost focus and his speech slurred just a little. He caught him this time and eased him the rest of the way to the ground.

Neal pulled in a deep breath and realized he had no idea what to do next. His papa's car had taken a hard hit by the drive-by and while any normal person would have thought that the hospital was the place to take him, he was pretty sure they couldn't help him. He didn't really want to imagine the headache a lifetime of memories crashing in around you would cause, much less a lifetime as long as Rumplestiltskin's. The hospital was out as long as no one walked past and noticed them, but even if he could get him up and stirred enough to walk home, Neal had no idea where his house was here. He didn't live in the shop - though he'd spotted a cot in the back and was sure that he spent more nights there than were probably good for him - but there were a couple of different housing communities and several apartment complexes from what he'd seen on a map of the town he'd gotten from Granny when he'd checked in. He could live in any of those.

Dark eyes scanned the empty street. Snow was falling lightly around him and it was freezing. He needed to get his papa some place safe without drawing attention. The curse kept people in a fog from what Regina said, but he couldn't imagine that the fog was quite that thick. They would notice another attempt on his life, and if this visitor to their little town was caught acting even stranger than usual, he didn't know how he'd handle it until his father woke.

It hit him then, almost as soon as he'd finished the thought. Neal fished the card Regina had given him a week ago out of his jacket pocket and quickly dialed the numbers. It rang and rang, but finally clicked and he heard a somewhat distracted "hello?" from the other end of the line.

"Regina? It's Neal. I need your help. Some men attacked my dad outside of the shop and-"

"Are you still there?"

"Yeah."

"Wait in the shop. I'll come pick you up."

The line went dead and Neal turned his gaze back to his papa who was still leaned up against him. He was very still in his arms, but his breathing seemed regular and steady. He eased him over, shifting so he could stand, and pulled him up with one of his arms slung around his shoulders and a steady hold around his middle. A soft moan escaped him, but otherwise his papa didn't stir as Neal made his way over to the door.

He had forgotten how small his father was. Even as Mr Gold he had exuded power, making him appear larger than his light frame really should. When Neal - or Bae, as he had been then - had been young he'd never known his papa was small or frail. It never bothered him and, until he became the Dark One, he really hadn't had anything to compare it to. Now, as he held him up and shifted him so that he could grab the keys out of his pocket and slip into the lock, he realized just how small his papa was without all that terrible power rushing through him. Small and terrifyingly vulnerable.

He had just shuffled him inside and flipped a light switch on when his cell started buzzing again. He let it ring until he got Rumplestiltskin settled on the cot in the back room. He was inching towards wakefulness - at least Neal thought he was - but hadn't quite made it there yet.

Neal glanced down at his cell as he took a seat and leaned forward, suddenly exhausted. In a way, he'd hoped his father would regain his memories, but as the week had pressed on he had questioned the likelihood of it. Mr Gold had appeared to be so firmly in place that Rumplestiltskin seemed to move further and further away from Neal's reality and the younger man was left to wonder if maybe this was a fool's errand after all. Maybe Mr Gold really did simply look like a man that he hadn't seen in two hundred or more years. He had just wanted to help him, and now that his papa was awake - as Regina had referred to it - he felt like he was riding a terribly rickety roller coaster that left him a little ill. He didn't know quite know how to react or what to expect.

Emma's name was next to the missed call alert and Neal flipped the phone open to hit redial. He reached forward and carefully took his father's limp hand in his own as he waited for her to pick up. The call connected and her voice filled his ear, pulling a smile from him, despite everything. At least he was solid when it came to how he felt about Emma. "Hey, sorry to cut you off so quick a few minutes ago. I...well, something weird happened."

"I've been hearing a lot of that from you since you got there," his girlfriend laughed at him.

"And so much more to come, I'm sure," Neal answered, but the smile didn't fade.

Emma sighed on the other end of the line, and that did bring the grin close to faltering. "You know, Neal. I have a confession to make."

"Well that doesn't sound good," he managed. He wasn't quite sure he could take bad news right now.

"I'm kind of in Boston. I know you said to wait until you called to come get you, but I missed you."

The smile returned. "Really? That's a coincidence. I've missed you too."

"So are we sticking around Storybrooke for a while or are we heading out somewhere new?"

Neal's dark eyes focused on his sleeping father. "I think I need to stay for him. August was right. He's in trouble, and I think I can help him."

"So I get to meet your dad?"

"I guess you do," Neal agreed slowly. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain this little town to Emma, but he would have to try. He hoped that the fact that his papa had come looking for him was a good sign. It might even mean that he cared about him like he once had. Before the curse. Before the terrible nightmare had begun. Things had changed before, and no matter who she was sided with now, Neal wanted to believe that the Blue Fairy really had been trying to help him when she gave him that magic bean to take them to this world. She'd said that they could be happy together here, and if that was true, if he could find it in himself to move past the hurt and the abandonment that he'd held onto for so many, many years, then he wanted Emma to be a part of it. He wouldn't leave her now, now matter what. Somehow, if he wanted all of this to work, he had to find a way to tell her the truth about where he came from and who they were. That was going to be be fun to try to explain.

"I'm crashing here for the night, but I'll start out first thing in the morning. I'll call you if I get lost."

"I love you," Neal whispered into the phone.

"You too. Good luck."

The call ended and Neal grimaced as he looked down, the hand in his tightening ever so slightly and his papa looked like he might be fighting to wake. The younger man sighed. "I spent lifetimes hating you, you know," he whispered, not sure if the confession was heard or not. "Centuries, I guess. When I got out of that hellhole, though, when you never came for me, I swore I'd never think about you again. You weren't worth the pain." He waited, half expecting those dark eyes that he had tried to banish along with the bad memories - no memories were better than the ache of abandonment - to open with that same terrified look they'd held when his cursed self broke and let Rumplestiltskin through. They didn't though, and his papa kept on sleeping. Bae - because in that moment even he couldn't argue that that's exactly who he was - sighed. "I never thought you'd go back on your word. I didn't think that after everything that you would let go."

Silence filled the back room and Bae's vision blurred just a little. He felt like he was fourteen again and begging for his papa to come back to him, and to fight the demon off for him. "But then August showed up and said you needed my help and I… I didn't want to come, but I knew that I needed to. I don't know how to explain it. I'm still angry." He faltered, the last word nearly lost to a thick feeling clawing at his throat. "But I still love you, Papa."

Fingers tightened around his own. "Love you too, Bae," came the strained voice and Baelfire tried to pull himself together. Brown eyes slipped open and looked at him with all the regret in the worlds. "Always have. I'm sorry it took so long to tell you."

"I just wished that you'd come sooner," he whispered. "I used to… I used to dream you'd rescue me, you know that?"

"I'm sorry. I can't…. I can't change the past, Bae."

"I'm not asking you to."

"What can I do to fix this, Bae?"

His son snorted a mirthless laugh. "I don't know if we can," he murmured, and he couldn't bear to meet his eyes. He'd traveled across time and space to find him, and Neal or Bae or whoever the hell he was in that moment had risked coming to this place to help him in return. A small, real smile tilted his lips and he squeezed the hand he hadn't let go of yet. "But I'm willing to try if you are."

"Yes," his papa answered without hesitation. "I'll do anything, Bae."

The bell over the front door chimed and they both looked over. Regina must have been there, Neal realized and stood, wiping at his eyes and trying to pretend they weren't still leaking just a little. "I'll be back in a second," he said and stepped through the drawn curtains.

His head was still aching, but the pounding had subsided at least. Rumplestiltskin sat up slowly as his son moved to the front of the store. His son. His Baelfire. He was still having trouble wrapping his sluggish mind around it. Bae was there and in Storybrooke. Someone had brought him there saying that his father was in trouble and Bae had come for him. Nothing could ruin that feeling.

Well, except the fact that his being here had nearly gotten him killed. Magnus' men. They had to be. The Dark One felt his mood sour instantly. Magnus had taunted him just before the curse had filled up his little jail cell and the bastard had to be here. He was trying to kill him while he was powerless. Rumplestiltskin snorted. He may not have magic in this world, but neither did the cleric. That put them on an even playing field and now that he knew who he was and what was happening it gave him a chance to plan and to think. He and Bae must be very careful moving forward. There was no telling where the clerics were hiding or how many had come through. That wasn't even counting the fact that they might have gotten their claws into people that hadn't necessarily aligned with the clerics back home.

Like Regina.

Rumplestiltskin felt his world shift as his former student followed his son into the back of the shop, and it had nothing to do with his returning memories. At least not directly. The fact that he knew who he was, knew who she was, and knew who Magnus was did make him awful suspicious though. He reached over for his cane and stood on surprisingly steady legs, dark eyes watching her carefully.

"Mr Gold," Regina greeted him with a falsely sweet smile. "I heard you had another near accident. I do hope you've called the sheriff. He seems to have found a lead on the shooting just tonight and-"

She'd made the mistake of approaching him and he realized that Bae hadn't told her yet. Good. "I'm sure you had a tip or two to give him, didn't you, dear?"

Regina blinked, looking a little offended by the insinuation and a lot confused.

"Papa?" Bae asked and realization snapped into place in the queen's eyes. So did Rumplestiltskin's cane.

It was amazing how fast he could move if he had reason to. The space was small, confined, and he had her against the wall before he had to lift the cane from the floor to press it steadily against her throat. The Evil Queen looked downright panicked as she found herself face to face with the Dark One and Rumplestiltskin pressed the polished wood against her rather delicate throat, his voice low as he snarled at her. "Hello, dearie."

"Rumple?" Regina managed and she began to struggle. He was stronger than she was, though, and he had the advantage here. Something deep inside of him - something that Mr Gold hadn't known to listen for - stirred, thrilled by the terror in her eyes and the choking sound she was making as he pressed harder, cutting off her air.

A dark smile crossed his lips. "Right in one, dearie. Now it's time to come clean."

"About what?" she managed, struggling against him.

"Papa, what are you doing? You're going to hurt her!" Bae shouted from behind.

"Stay out of it, Bae," he snapped, and he hated how short he sounded, but he needed to know. He needed to know quickly. If she'd betrayed him, it was Bae that could suffer. Rumplestiltskin would be willing to take on any danger if it kept his son safe, but he couldn't do that without a full set of facts. He needed to know who his allies and who his enemies were.

"She's been helping me, Papa!" his son argued. "While you didn't even know who I was, she's been the only one to-"

"Was that the plan then?" the Dark One demanded and Regina gave a struggling cry. "Use my son to wake me up so that Magnus could do me in? What did he offer you, Regina? What could he have possibly offered you?"

"He didn't!" she gasped and he let up only a little. "I swear."

"I think you're lying, dearie."

"I've been helping your son!"

"That means nothing more than you wanted something in return for it. I know you, Regina. I taught you. Who were you hoping to gain something from? Think carefully, because if you lie, if you betray me here-"

"We're in this together, Rumple," she growled.

"You've betrayed me before."

"Not to a cleric," the Evil Queen argued and the word left her painted lips like she'd tasted something sour.

It was enough, he decided, and pulled back. She sank back against the wall and they stared at each other for a collection of moments, neither quite sure if they really should trust the other.

"What the hell was that?" Baelfire demanded and Rumplestiltskin realized just how angry his son really was. He looked ready to jump him if he had to and he realized that if he dug back into Gold's memories he knew that they'd spent quite a bit of time together this past week. Regina had already played him, and if he didn't tread very carefully here, she mind pull Bae away from him.

"I had to make sure Magnus hadn't gotten to her," he explained. "He has… a way of turning people against those he hates."

Bae's gaze jerked over to where Regina was rubbing at her throat and glaring in her former mentor's direction. "Is that true?"

Rumplestiltskin tried not to let the words sting too badly.

"I don't know. I've never actually met Magnus," Regina answered, "but it does seem like he may be behind the attempts on your father's life." She turned back to him. "I'm on your side, Rumple. We're in this together you and I, and now I know why."

"Everything has a price," he answered softly.

"You better be thankful I got something from all of this, you ungrateful bastard," she snapped, all pretences of the victim falling away.

"I'm ungrateful? You were well paid for your part in this, m'dear," he answered with a wave of his hand.

"And my payment for making sure Magnus didn't kill your son when he lost his usefulness to him is to be shoved up against a wall and choked half to death?"

He could feel Bae's eyes lingering on him, but he didn't dare turn to explain what was happening. This was a power play now. Regina was trying to make sure he knew she was still in charge, even as that control was quickly being ripped out of her hands by a set of clerics. Truth be told, it was being pulled away from Rumplestiltskin as well, and cementing their loyalties to each other now would be in both of their best interests. "You're fine," he grumbled. "You were never in any real danger. If I'd wanted you dead you would have been."

The Evil Queen huffed. "Do we have a truce between us then?"

"It'd seem we do. Too many enemies lurking around isn't good for either of us." Now he risked a look at his son and his eyes softened. "Bae, why don't we get your things from Granny's? I have plenty of space at my home. No reason for you to be staying there."

Baelfire watched him carefully, as if working through what he thought might be some form of trickery or another. Finally his lips thinned and he nodded. "Sure, as long as you don't mind one more. My girlfriend was coming to pick me up and she's on her way."

"She won't find Storybrooke," Regina said without pause. "It's cloaked so that outsiders can't find us."

"Then I'll meet her over the town line and bring her in or something," Bae answered easily and shrugged.

Rumplestiltskin, for his part, thought that wouldn't be necessary. Not if she was the Emma that he'd been speaking to. Not that Regina needed to know that of course. "Not to worry. We'll discuss it at home."

The queen masquerading as a mayor smirked. "Have fun with that, Rumple. I'll be in touch."

"I'm sure you will."

Father and son watched her walk out and Bae turned back around. "You are going to explain all that, aren't you?"

"Yes, but it'll take a bit." He paused and glanced back to the clocks hanging from his wall. They moved, unlike the one that sat atop the library, but they hardly kept time. Hours moved by again and again in Storybrooke, but they looped in on themselves like the day that never would end and the months were lost to the fog of the curse. It was amazing that Gold had never noticed.

His head hurt and all he wanted to do was take a hot shower and climb into bed, but he'd promised his son anything. If he truly meant it, that needed to start now. "Quite a bit. Let's get home and get some dinner."

To his great relief Bae nodded and reached a hand out to him to steady him as he took step. Even if his voice was tight and uncertain, it was a start. "You okay?"

"I will be." He forced himself to meet a pair of eyes that looked so like his own. "I love you, Bae," he said honestly.

Those words seemed to melt the chill that had settled over him and he tried for a smile. "You too, Papa. Let's get back to your place before they decide to drive that car through the front of the shop or something."

Rumplestiltskin grimaced as they started for the door. If they found out that he was awake, there was no telling what they were capable of doing.

In hindsight, she should have seen it coming. Everything Neal had said to her over the week could have meant that Rumple was waking up. Of course her former mentor wouldn't have left himself vulnerable to attack while he slept under the persona of Gold. Regina didn't know if it was Baelfire's sudden appearance, the threats on Rumple's life, or another factor she hadn't yet seen, but the Dark One was awake. There was no questioning that.

Regina's hand came to her throat as she turned the corner towards her house. If she'd been paying more attention, if the curse hadn't dulled her wits with complacency, she could have avoided that terrible little scene. Rumple was vulnerable here, but so was she, and if there was one thing she knew about clerics such as these it was that once they were done with him she would be next. It was best that they stick together on this one. That was the only way that they'd both come out of it alive.

Graham's car was parked in front of her house and she saw him unfold from the driver's seat. She'd completely forgotten that she had told him to meet her there, and one quick glance down at her watch showed that he'd likely been there for a bit already. He didn't look irked, necessarily, but that was to be expected. She had a tight leash on him.

"Madame Mayor," he greeted as he walked towards her. Even in this cold he hardly looked worried by it. While the some of the town was bundled in more layers than they could comfortably move in, Graham seemed to think his jeans and vest were his uniform and Regina certainly couldn't find it in herself to complain. "You'd mentioned that you had a lead?"

"I do," she answered with a smile. "Come on in and we'll have a glass of wine and discuss it."

He followed her up to the steps. "I've been looking into the man is mentioned," he said as they entered. "The cook's name is Miles Dannish and Ruby says he hasn't shown for work since the incident. I went by his apartment this morning and it looked like it was cleared out. I looked up the paperwork on the owner and Gold is the landlord."

"Shocking," Regina said as she poured them both a glass of red wine and took a seat on the sofa. He followed suit. "Any leads?"

Her pet sheriff quirked an eyebrow. "Yours, I hope," he answered and took a sip of his drink.

"Well, you know how Sidney's always out for a story. Sometimes it really does pay off," she said as she reached for her purse at her feet and pulled out a file. "He's been looking into a man named Jacob Dawson."

Graham looked a little startled. "The groundskeeper at the convent? What does he have to do with anything?"

"I think that he was behind the attack last week, as well as the hit and run from tonight."

"That seems a little- Wait. What? Hit and run?"

"Mr Cassidy didn't call you over it? He found Mr Gold in the street just after a car nearly ran him over outside of his shop. It left his bumper all over the alleyway. I suppose I just assumed they'd called it in," she said sweetly, though she knew they hadn't. Her eyes narrowed a little and she leaned forward. "First thing in the morning I would like you to go and make the arrest. I expect a call as soon as it's done."

The magic that was woven into the town washed over him, made even stronger by the fact that she held his heart, and the sheriff nodded. "Of course, Madame Mayor."

Her smile broadened. She did love an obedient pet.

"Would you not like it done immediately?" he asked.

"Graham, dear," the Evil Queen cooed, "we have plans tonight. You're needed right here."

Rumple's cleric could wait. There was only so much business she was willing to put before pleasure.

His papa might be small and vulnerable at times here, but he hadn't lost his terrifying streak that had consumed plenty of his dreams over the centuries and turned them into nightmares. Neal felt a coldness fill him up from the inside and threaten to cut off his airway as he and Rumplestiltskin gathered his things from Granny's. His car was drivable and they loaded Neal's single bag into it and drove silently away from the inn.

Neither of them said a word and Neal felt like he was going to burst by the time they took a turn into the housing community. His papa must have noticed that too because he glanced over and offered a strained smile. "I know you have questions, Bae. I'll answer anything you want to just as soon as we're inside. Alright?"

He nodded, dark eyes fixated on the house at the end of the driveway they turned into. It was huge. The three story, pink house would have been comical if it weren't obviously an expensive piece of property. They pulled into the garage and his father stepped out. If he'd expected the limp to suddenly vanish with the return of his memories he would have been wrong, because Rumplestiltskin gripped his cane hard as he stepped around the front and motioned for his son to follow him.

"Watch your step," his papa warned as he motioned to the icy stairs that led to the porch and up to the house.

Neal just managed to miss the patch of ice he'd been warning about and followed him into the house. The inside was all polished wood and various antiques strewn all over the place. It was a wonder that his father could get around in what looked like barely organized chaos, but there was a small path through it that became more visible the further down the hall that he looked. "Nice place," he acknowledged softly.

"It's large," his papa answered, his voice a bit distant as he limped down and towards the kitchen. His son thought he sounded lonely, and who could blame him in this huge place? "So, where shall we begin? Would you like to tell me about this lady friend of yours that will be joining us or would you like to jump in on something else?"

"How much did you hear in the shop?" Neal asked as he followed, finding him putting a kettle on over the stove.

"A bit. Enough to know an apology can't make everything better right away." He offered a strained smile. "I knew that though."

The younger man mirrored the small smile. At least he knew that. At least he admitted that.

"Then let's start with Emma, since she'll be here sometime tomorrow."

His father's eyes narrowed just a little. "Does Emma have a last name?"

"Does Mr Gold have a first name?" Neal teased and Rumplestiltskin offered a knowing smile, but didn't say anything. That only made his son chuckle. "Swan. Like the bird." He didn't miss the flicker of calculation. "What?"

"Nothing," the elder man answered and turned to the kettle as it started to whistle.

"You said anything, Papa," Neal pointed out firmly and he saw his father's shoulders slouch a little.

"Indeed I did. How much did Regina tell you about the curse?"

"Not a lot. She said you were responsible for it and must have used it to come looking for me. She also said it rewrote people's histories for this world."

"All true, though she seemed to leave out the small detail that she was the one that cast it," Rumplestiltskin said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I did write it, though, and I did set quite a bit into motion. Including a way to break it when the time was right."

Neal leaned against a counter, listening carefully. It would seem that there was quite a bit Regina had conveniently left out during their chats. He wasn't sure what this had to do with his girlfriend, but to be fair he didn't know a great deal about magic either. Certainly not as much as his father did.

"I've studied all kinds of magic in my attempt to find a way through the worlds," he continued, "but the strongest I've ever come across is True Love."

"Is that how you're planning to break the curse? Whose?"

"I found a way to bottle it," Rumplestiltskin explained, sounding quite pleased with himself. "I dropped a bit of that potion onto the scroll and that linked the couple's child to the curse. She is the only one that can break it."

"And who is she?" Neal asked carefully, not liking the sudden turn of the conversation. Emma had called and his father had come back to himself. It was a coincidence. Nothing more. Emma was normal. She would have told him if... If what? He hadn't told her, so why should he expect anything different.

"I think you already know," his papa said gently and limped around to pull a kitchen chair closer. "Have a seat. It's a lot to take in. Take your time."

Neal sank into the chair and tried to crush the rising feeling. "Did you know?"

"Only when you said her name," came the immediate answer. "I worked her name in to wake me up as soon as she arrived. I didn't dare let her run free with Regina ready to take her head off."

Neal felt ill. "I have to call her and tell her not to come."

"Nonsense. She'll be as safe as she would be if Regina weren't here. The prophecy said Emma would come on her twenty-eighth birthday. Our dear queen won't even think about it. She's early by quite a bit. I'm not even sure she can break it for another handful of years."

"Emma doesn't... She isn't... Are you sure?"

"Mostly. I'll know for certain when she arrives, but I hardly think that the magic this curse is made of would have allowed Gold to be thrown off quite so easily. And no, Bae, she doesn't know. She was an infant when her parents were forced to give her up."

"Emma was abandoned because you were trying to get to me," Neal managed. He didn't know how to feel about that. It hurt, that much he knew. It hurt her and it hurt him as guilt weighed heavily on him over the fact that a very large part of him was happy that his papa had come to find him.

"We'll reunite the family, Bae. You have my word."

"Was that always the plan?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "It was never to purposefully keep them apart. You care for her. I'll make sure it's set right, but I need you to trust me with the timing. Can you do that, son? All of this has been thrown out of balance, and while the goal has always been to find you... Well, it could go very badly from here if we're not careful."

Neal nodded. Her parents were here then. That was the implication at least. He didn't want to hear his father say it outright, because then he'd have to tell her. Emma would find a set of parents that didn't know her and couldn't remember that they'd had her. It would be worse than not knowing, he was sure, and if they would tell her when the time was right... Well, his papa had broken promises to him before.

"What is it, Bae?" Rumplestiltskin asked softly.

"I love her," his son whispered. "I love Emma. We have to reunite her with her parents, no matter what."

"Of course, son."

He didn't understand. He didn't get how strongly Neal felt. He stood, eyes serious and he took a step closer. "We have to," he repeated. "You can't go back on your word this time."

His papa blinked, a flash of hurt replaced quickly with understanding. He extended his hand, his expression serious. "On my life, Baelfire, you have my word. For you, son."

An inkling of the faith that he'd held onto in his youth for his father worked its way in and pushed away the terrible sinking feeling that had been knotting up inside since the conversation had turned to Emma. He reached forward and took the offered hand. He'd come this far. There was no turning back now. "Thank you."

His father pulled him forward and wrapped an arm around his neck. They stood like that in his kitchen, holding on for dear life, with promises both spoken and silent hanging in the air around them.

TBC

Notes: All the father-son feels between these two kill me every time. They really do.

So I've resurfaced feeling at least vaguely more human after the Week of Sick. My body is always a bit rebellious, but this past week took that a bit too far. Ugh. I'm so happy that I'm ahead in writing because I've barely been productive in anything, muchless fanfiction writing. Time to take a deep breath, make sure I'm caught up with myself and keep on going though. Rumple's awake. Things are about to get interesting :D

Next time - Rumplestiltskin and Bae finally get to talk, Magnus is arrested on charge of being linked to an attempted murder, and Emma comes to Storybrooke.

Chapter Text

8.

Rumplestiltskin woke sore and stiff the next morning, finding himself leaned back into the corner of his winged back sitting chair that sat facing the fireplace in his living room. The fire had long since died out and the morning had left the room cool, but certainly not intolerably so. It took him a moment to place exactly why he would be where he was, but a glance to the couch where Bae had drifted off to sleep brought a smile to his face. He would take any aches and pain his human body had to throw at him in this land if it meant he could wake to see his son there in his home.

Tea cups still sat on the table between them and Bae was stretched out on the couch, face buried in the pillow with his back to the window. The sun was barreling in with all of its might, shining directly on him, and Rumplestiltskin felt his smile widened just a little as his son nestled down, clinging to a few more minutes of sleep. Perhaps the next night they might manage to cut the conversation off before they fell asleep where they sat.

He stood carefully, reaching out to take hold of his fallen cane, and moved to gather the cups up to take to the sink. He paused and watched Baelfire's steady breathing for a moment. He'd grown so much since they'd been separated - since he'd let him go - but he still looked very much just an older version of the boy he'd known. Down to his dislike of early mornings, it would appear. Rumplestiltskin chuckled softly to himself as he bent over, pulling a throw blanket up around his shoulders to keep the chill from him before he moved into the kitchen.

Life was truly a funny sort of thing. He had had everything planned out to the detail and he would have thought that his Sight would have made that easier. The Seer had told him once that he would learn to decipher what could be from what would be, but apparently he had latched onto one of those possible paths with all the desperation of a father looking for his son and it hadn't been quite as he'd predicted. They were eleven years too early, but what that meant he wasn't entirely sure. He had told Baelfire the night before that they needed to tread carefully and that was true. They had enemies at every turn, and some within their own very tiny circle of allies should certain information get out.

Rumplestiltskin pulled the frying pan from it's place overhead and set it on the stove, shuffling over for the eggs in the fridge. His son was in love with the savior. What a funny life. That had been something he'd never predicted. Bae hadn't wanted to know anything more about the situation after he'd received his father's promise to reunite the girl with her long-lost parents, but that wasn't surprising. The girl had no reason to suspect that she was travelling into a cursed town with equally cursed citizens from another world, and to try to explain that to her without very careful planning might send her running for the hills. Hell, he knew if Bae had tried to tell Gold any more than he did that the pawnbroker would have run faster than he did. No, that particular situation would have to be handled with the utmost care. He wasn't entirely sure where her father was, if he were honest with himself. Mary Margaret Blanchard, though she looked different here, was most assuredly Snow White, but Charming had gone and buried himself in the throngs of people. He'd have to make a point to search him out if he was going to make good on that promise as quickly as possible.

He cracked an egg against the side of the pan and it sizzled as he added another one in the same fashion. The conversation the night before had taken many winding turns. He'd been as honest as he knew how, and Bae seemed to appreciate that. He told him about the Dark Castle and his studies and a few interesting tidbits here and there. Bae had spoken about the Darlings that had taken him in when he landed in London at the turn of the century and how he'd been swept off to Neverland after. Rumplestiltskin had done everything in his power to remain calm and put together during that conversation. It hadn't lasted as his mind came up with all the ways that his father had now destroyed not only his own childhood, but now his son's as well. By the end of the talk - or at least by the time they'd fallen asleep - Rumplestiltskin had a feeling that they'd only touched on the terrible things his son had seen during their time apart.

The eggs continued to sizzle as he leaned over and dropped a couple of pieces of bread into the toaster and set it to work. Emma would be able to find Storybrooke as long as she knew generally where to look, and from what Bae had indicated she would be there sometime that afternoon. What a savior that showed up before she should actually be the savior would bring with her, Rumplestiltskin had no way to know. As long as Regina wasn't looking for her - and the queen had no reason to suspect who she was - Emma should be safe from her. Bae seemed determined that she should, at least eventually, know what was happening here. Until then, Rumplestiltskin could only be relieved that he'd spent so much time immersed in Gold's life. It gave him something to use as a cover at least.

"Please tell me you drink coffee," Bae's drowsy voice met him and he looked up, finding his son rounding the corner into the sitting room that connected to the kitchen. His hair was standing on end and his eyes were still heavily lidded as if they might close at any point and without warning.

A smile perked thin lips. "Of course. You'll find what you need in that cabinet over the coffee maker. There's orange juice in the fridge as well."

Bae shuffled all the way in and rounded the counter. "You still get up with the sun, I see," he mumbled as he pulled the filters and grounds out.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "Old habits. Sometimes it's before the sun, but we had a late night."

His son chuckled. "You still okay with Emma crashing here too?"

"Staying?" Rumplestiltskin asked. "Certainly. Better here than the inn. I still am not sure how the curse will react to her, so I'd like to keep a close eye."

"That's still a lot to wrap my mind around. Out of all the people in this world, I found her. How?"

His papa shrugged, dishing out the eggs into a plate as the toast popped up. He handed it over. "I've found that destiny is a peculiar thing. Perhaps it has a bit of a sense of humour. Jam is in the fridge."

Baelfire snorted out a laugh. "I find you after centuries of being separated in a cursed little town in a world that neither I us were born in, and now you're making me breakfast like when I was a kid. Yeah, I'd say fate has a sense of humour."

"Well, I should hope that this breakfast is better than what we used to have on hand when you were young," Rumplestiltskin teased.

He watched as his son grabbed a fork, poured his coffee, and took a seat at the breakfast table. A smile perked around the fork after the first bite. "Tons better," he agreed and they both had to laugh. The peace wouldn't last, so they might as well enjoy it while it did.

They continuously failed to take out a man that could barely walk. It was insufferable. Magnus had fought Dark Ones for over a millennia now and had found the curse impossible to eradicate using even the purest of light magics found in any realm. Here, though, he was vulnerable. Here he was human. He didn't even know who he was, so why were the clerics that he'd trained since their childhoods having such a difficult time bringing him in?

Everything had been set up perfectly. He had found his pathway through Rumplestiltskin's tightly woven little curse and Reul Ghorm had ensured that his and his clerics' memories would remained with them. Once they'd come through they had found each other. His men had been scattered across this quaint little town in various stations of insignificance, but a few were useful. Truth be told, he'd expected the Dark One to remember as well, but when he'd found him as cursed as any other man in the town he'd had to remind himself that he was a patient man. He had no interest in killing Mr Gold, but Rumplestiltskin was buried beneath him. He had spent the last seventeen years researching Gold - records were kept in all places in Storybrooke so that he knew every inch of the man's falsified life - and looking for the Dark One's son in the outside world by any means that he could reach. It had taken him all that time to find him, and even Baelfire had not been able to wake him up. His patience, at last, was growing thin.

Magnus reached out, one large hand finding the table in front of him and he lashed out in a moment of frustration. Books, maps, and who knew what else were swept off in a fit of fury and he gave a low growl to accompany it. He had been so careful to work around the clever Dark One, yet he still evaded him. There was no reasonable explanation. His curse shouldn't be able to help him as long as he was Gold. The pawnbroker was nothing. He was a shell and a façade that would be tossed away. Magnus might not be able to look the Dark One in the eyes any longer, but his face was seared into his memory. He would at least have him aware so that when he took his life he understood why.

The door behind him opened. "Magnus," his second in command's voice filled his ears. "There's a man outside looking for you. It's the Sheriff."

"Why is he here?"

"He says that he has to take you in. They've found evidence that links you to the attack on Gold. Both of them."

"Useless though they were," the ancient cleric huffed. "Kill him. He's the Evil Queen's pawn."

"Absolutely not."

Reul Ghorm was making a habit of keeping her steps quieter and quieter around him, but he'd heard her approach just before she spoke. She had been increasingly difficult recently. She pulled back in the moments when strength was necessary. He knew why. She was far too invested in how she was seen by those rulers she had spent so much time gaining over. They didn't know who she was and might never rouse from their slumber again, but she was blind to that. Her focus was on the wrong side of things and if she was going to continue to be useful it would need to change.

"The Huntsman has proven time and again to be clever enough to get around the Evil Queen's hold. There are other paths to take."

"The Huntsman is buried so deeply under the idiot sheriff that nothing is left of him," Magnus snapped. "Kill him, Caiden."

"Please," the lead fairy begged and her hand rested on his arm, her voice soft. "You trusted me once. Trust me here. Killing him is the wrong move and will only invite another enemy to look at us closely. Go with him now and I will have this setback dealt with by sundown."

Magnus frowned deeply. He could not see her face, but the Blue Fairy had always been quite good with finding just the expression needed. Her hand lingered on his arm and he heard Caiden shift uncomfortably, unwilling to take a side between them.

Her fingers tightened ever so slightly. "When you found yourself without a way to retain yourselves in this world I did not fail you. Have faith in me, my old friend."

A sigh left him and he waved her off. "Very well. Until sundown."

"Thank you."

"No longer."

"Of course not."

He stepped forward, the cane he used to ensure a clear path in front of him gripped in his hand. Reul Ghorm would come through or Caiden would handle the situation. She may not like it, but she didn't have to. Their priority was destroying the Dark One, and Magnus could not do that from behind bars.

Neal had given her very detailed instructions on how to reach the little town he was in. Storybrooke. Emma had tried not to roll her eyes when he'd told her, and she was certain that he felt the same. As she crossed the town line and saw the Welcome to Storybrooke sign there the feeling returned. She'd never been to Maine, but she couldn't help but assume this quaint little town would get really boring really fast.

Still, Neal had found his dad. While he'd never liked to go into a lot of detail about the man - he had been a decent guy that had changed and let a lot of crap grow between them until Neal had run - that had raised him until he was fifteen, Emma knew what she'd give to see her parents. Sure, she'd be angry. They'd abandoned her and left her on the side of the road, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to the story than a few newspaper clippings and an old baby blanket. Neal was getting whatever story there was behind his own abandonment, and while it must have been hard, it seemed like a good sign that he wanted to stick around. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

Emma grimaced as she turned into town and onto what appeared to be the main road and the little bug skidded on a patch of ice. There had been sand keeping her from sliding around too badly, but whoever's job it was to lay it out must have been distracted halfway through. The tires screeched and she took her foot off the brake, trying to glide to a stop. Finally she did, bumping into a curb before lightly tapping the car parked on the side of the street.

She sat there a moment, knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel, and the door to the little diner that she'd so-ungracefully managed to park outside of opened, several curious eyes watching. Yeah, she thought. Welcome to Storybrooke. She hated small towns.

"You okay?"

The blonde jumped, realizing that someone had come out of the diner and circled her car. The girl was only a little older than she was, dressed in a waitressing uniform of some kind, and was bundled up in a bright red, fur-lined coat. The streaks of red in her hair matched the coat and she tapped the window when she didn't receive an immediate response. "Hey?"

"I'm fine," Emma snapped, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door. She frowned when she saw the way her front bumper still rested against the car she'd hit. Well, there was no getting out of this now.

"You didn't hurt it," the waitress said with a smile. "It's my car, so I know how tough it is."

People had started to slip out of the diner to stare at the scene and Emma felt very uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I hit a patch of ice," she explained. "It was-"

"Oh yeah, Leroy was supposed to finish putting that out yesterday, but I think a burger and beer had his name on it. I'm Ruby. You're not from here, are you?"

"No, I'm here to meet my boyfriend. His dad lives here. Gold, or something like that, I think is his last name. I don't know. Neal-"

"Wait, what?" Ruby snapped.

Emma blinked at her. "Neal, my boyfriend, is visiting his dad here," she said slowly, enunciating every word. "I came to meet up with him."

"Sorry, did you say Mr Gold is Neal's dad? That sneak. That makes so much more sense now!"

"Is everything okay?" another woman called, and she trotted over to where Emma and Ruby were standing. She was small, maybe not particularly in height, but with her too-innocent green eyes and her little mousy look, she might have jumped if someone said boo. Even so, she'd scurried up to try to help if something was wrong, and she grimaced when she saw the scuff on both bumpers. "No one hurt?"

"No, we're fine, Mary Margaret," the waitress said. "Did you know that Neal was Mr Gold's son?"

"No! I didn't even know he had a son."

"Me neither."

This place was weird. She'd been there all of ten minutes and Emma was certain of it. She shut the door to her car as the two young women discussed her boyfriend and his father as if they'd forgotten she was standing there - the pop it gave acted nicely to pull their attention back around - and decided it was best to leave it where it was until this Leroy guy finished sanding the roads. "I think I'm kind of turned around. Neal said to meet them at some sort of antique shop. Any idea where that is?"

"Just down the way there," Mary Margaret said as she pointed. "Mr Gold's name is on the shop. You can't miss it."

"Thanks." She didn't bother with anything else. These people looked at her like they'd never seen a stranger in their life with the way the rest of them cluttered around the opening to the diner. Maybe places like this didn't see a lot of them, but surely generations didn't remain year after year without every branching out to other places and coming back to visit. She didn't know if this was where Neal had grown up or not - yet another thing that he'd never explicitly mentioned - but even if they'd never met him as a kid, surely they'd met someone outside of their own borders before.

The antiques shop turned out to also be a pawn shop, which made Emma smirk a little to herself. She had no idea what mental image she should have even cooked up for this Gold character. Did Neal look like his father? He didn't have any photos of him, so she'd never known what to picture on those rare occasions where he spoke of him. He'd never even told her his name until he'd come to this place.

A bell jingled overhead, announcing her entrance. The inside was chilly. and certainly looked much more the antiques store over the pawn shop. She couldn't imagine that people came and went from this place very much, but there were some interesting figurines and dolls… Okay. The dolls were creepy.

"Emma!"

Emma hadn't realized just how much she'd missed him. Neal ducked through a set of curtains that separated the store from whatever was behind them and the grin he wore was contagious. The long drive cross-country, the cold, and the weird greeting she'd received didn't seem to matter anymore as the blonde launched herself into his arms and he pulled her close. "Missed you too," she laughed. "So this is your dad's place, huh? Very old-school."

"You have no idea," he answered with a grin. "He's in the middle of something, but come here and you can meet him."

Emma didn't have a chance to agree or argue as her boyfriend took her hand and led him to the back of the shop. He was nervous, she realized after a moment. Sentences blurred together when he was nervous, and any suaveness that he had - and the fact that he'd always had a little bit of awkwardness to him was a plus for Emma - went right out the window.

The back office was more cluttered than the front room. Half finished restoration projects were scattered on various tables and a man somewhere in his mid to late forties sat tinkering with one then, a magnifying glass pulled so that he could see the smallest part of what might have been an old music box. He was dress like Emma would have assumed someone on Wall Street or in a powerful law firm would have dressed, and hardly like a small business owner in a podunk little town. His focus was absolute and it took Neal clearing his throat for him to look up, and Emma saw the resemblance between them right in the eyes.

"Papa, this is Emma."

A slow smile stretched and he stood, stretching out a hand to shake hers. "Hello Emma. Neal's told me so much about you."

She took the offered hand and couldn't help but feel like he was sizing her up. His dark eyes met her own hazel ones without hesitation and she was once again hit with the feeling that he was displaced here, and even more that he was hiding behind something. She had always had a sense about these things. Neal didn't believe her, but she could spot a lie even when it hadn't been voiced yet, and this guy was hiding a hell of a lot.

"Yeah, well, you traumatised him pretty good so I haven't heard much about you. Learning experience." Neal looked ready to die to her left, but he should have know something like that was coming. He'd get over it and she'd get a better feel for the man that had left such a scar on the man she loved. She may have understand where he was coming from in that he needed to face this or to help him or whatever he wanted to call it, but that didn't mean she couldn't watch his back.

The man she was speaking to, however, remained entirely nonplussed. He watched her, studied her, and a small smile perked his lips that made her entirely uncomfortable. "One that I eagerly look forward to," he answered in a smoother tone than Emma could have imagined anyone related to Neal possessing. Well, he was pretty smooth when it came to their cons.

Silence stretched between them and Emma crossed her arms, unwilling to give. "So what do I call you?"

"Gold is fine. Most people find my first name a bit difficult to pronounce."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but his smile didn't falter.

"Neal, why don't you take her on over to the house. I have a few things to finish up here and I'll be right over."

Several expressions flashed through Neal's dark eyes, but the one he seemed to settle on was a thinly veiled worry. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

The smile that the elder man wore turned a little more real. "Yes, of course. Don't worry about me."

"Call me if those guys show up again, okay? You do know how to use that thing right?"

The tease made Gold roll his eyes a little and shake his head. "Technology doesn't completely elude me," he groused.

"Could have fooled me," Neal chuckled. "See you in a bit, Papa."

"I'll be there."

A promise echoed in the words and Emma thought about how Neal had described what happened over the time she'd known him. Sometimes it was that he ran and sometimes it was that he'd been abandoned. Either way, she wanted to make sure this man didn't hurt him again.

She hadn't known what to expect when she received the call that Magnus - no, Jacob Dawson. Here he was Jacob Dawson - was in custody. Regina had been in the office filling out paperwork all morning and preparing for the long - boring - weekend that was forced into her due to a holiday that this world observed. It was one of the few that she recognized from back home, but that didn't mean she cared. All it meant to her was that more paperwork had to be signed off on in a shorter amount of time. She really should have thought this mayor thing through a little more carefully.

Regina didn't bother to hurry her pace as she crossed over from the mayor's side of town hall to the sheriff's, her heels clicking against the hard floor. Graham was bent over his desk when she entered and he looked to be scurrying to finish the same type of paperwork that she had been. "You know, if you hired a deputy you could make him do all that paperwork," the mayor said as she stopped in the doorway, a smile curling her painted lips. "I've made sure it's in your budget."

Graham chuckled. "Yeah, well, find me someone to apply for the job, Madame Mayor, and I might just take your advice."

She blinked. There hadn't been any sarcasm in his voice really, only a bit of amusement at the idea, but he had never seemed to notice that no one took new jobs or left old ones in Storybrooke. No one did. It was part of the curse's safeguard that allowed those under it to remain in less-than-blissful ignorance of what was happening to them.

"Regina?"

"Yes?" she asked automatically, and found him staring at her.

"Mr Dawson's lawyer just left," he said seriously, bringing her back around to the issue at hand.

"He called a lawyer?"

"Yeah. Peter Kurtz or something like that. Young kid, but he seemed pretty confident." Graham's voice dipped a little lower. "I can only hold him for so long without any real evidence. He knows that."

"Then get some," the Evil Queen snapped. "We know this man is behind it, now prove it."

"Regina, he's blind and works at the convent for a bunch of nuns. That doesn't scream killer to me."

She snorted and moved past him without another word. Magnus sat in his cell with his sightless gaze staring straight through the bars and towards the other wall. He was a large man, even sitting down. His shoulders were broad and he sat as if one that knew he held authority. The scarring on his face was most certainly caused by dark magic. It had ripped and shredded, leaving most of his features intact, but had dug deep into him to sever nerve endings and steal his sight from him. Regina herself was capable of the magic, but even she knew she lacked the patience to implement it. Rumplestiltskin didn't though. That man had all the patience in the worlds, and if this cleric truly had been after him for the duration of his curse she could hardly blame him for being a bit vindictive.

"Admiring your master's work?" the gruff, irritable voice of the blind cleric reached her ears.

Regina glanced back at Graham to see he had closed his door to give her privacy. What a good pet he made. A smile graced her lips and she squared her shoulders just a bit more. "I would hardly call him a master. Former teacher, perhaps, but master implies that he is above me in some way or another."

A smile stretched across Magnus' lips. "But you do his bidding at every turn. Isn't that the very definition of servitude, Your Majesty?" he asked and his smug tone grated at her nerves.

"Hardly."

"Then is this not his curse that he groomed you to cast. My mistake then."

"You're awful cheeky for a man behind bars. That is, unless the dear sheriff didn't let you know that that's where you are."

"I won't be here long, Your Majesty. You have nothing to link me with those supposed crimes."

"See, and that's the thing. You're in my town, Magnus. What I say goes."

"Perhaps once it did, but no longer."

She bristled at the comment, ready to shoot back with a scathing remark about how miserable she was going to make him through her curse - she was going to rewrite them all, making them more lowly, more helpless than they had ever been before. Nothing would save them from it - when the door opened behind her.

Graham stood and exited his enclosed office from the side door, meeting the three newcomers. The first was that obnoxious, life sized bug that fancied herself holier than anyone she met. She was followed by a blond man that Regina didn't recognize, but assumed must have been the lawyer Graham had spoken of. Between them was a third that she only vaguely recognized, and the young man looked terrified.

"Peace, Miles, and tell the sheriff exactly what you told me. The first step to forgiveness is the truth."

Miles - or whatever the boy's true name was - swallowed hard as he made eye contact with Graham. "Sheriff, my name is Miles Dannish. I was Kyle Matthews' accomplice in the armed robbery against Mr Gold and I was the one driving the car last night by the shop that nearly hit him. I... I was scared. I didn't want him to talk. Mr Dawson had nothing to do with it."

Regina couldn't believe what she was hearing or seeing. That sly, conniving little gnat! She'd put the kid up to this. Granted, the Evil Queen had done that and more in her time, but at least she knew what she was. She didn't hide behind some façade of ultimate goodness like this hypocrite.

"Are you willing to put that confession down in writing?" Graham asked carefully. "You understand what this means, right?"

"He's willing," the lawyer said firmly.

"This is insane," Regina bit out, unable to stop herself. "This man is clearly being coerced."

"And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Madam Mayor?" the Blue Fairy murmured so softly that Regina almost missed it.

"I understand," Miles Dannish said and Graham nodded.

Regina stood stiff as a board while he unlocked the cell and handed the cleric his walking stick back. Her lips turned down, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing - or hearing - her squirm at being thwarted. This was obviously a bigger problem than she - and possibly even Rumple - knew that it was. Somehow they were would king outside of the curse's reach while still within Storybrooke. She didn't know how, but she was fairly certain that she knew that one that would.

"Have faith," the Blue Fairy said cheerfully. "Have faith and I would find a way to free you before sundown. I have hours to spare, old friend."

Caiden watched his master's sightless eyes narrow. "Barely," the ageless cleric retorted. "You used one of my own to do it."

It was the fairy's turn to look a little irked now. "Have you not been the one saying that sacrifices must be made?"

"There were many others you could have chosen from." He waved a large hand, dismissing the conversation. "We have other matters to attend to. I believe the Dark One knows."

"Impossible," Blue argued. "He's too deeply buried beneath Gold."

"Perhaps his son did wake him after all," Magnus said thoughtfully. "We must know for sure. Caiden, fetch the twins. If they can bring him to me, tell them to do so. Otherwise, tell them to find proof."

"My lord," Caiden breathed, "if you believed that Quinn's way drew too much attention-"

"Quinn was careless. Soren and Silas are not." He paused and Caiden stood waiting for the orders that would come. "Tell them to force him into showing his hand."

The younger cleric offered a bow that wasn't actually seen. "It will be as you wish, my lord."

TBC

Notes:

I've had a couple people asking about the timeline. Currently it is December of 2000 in this story. Emma is seventeen. Bae is twenty (physically, but I suppose he's more like 320 or something around there). Henry has not been born yet. Part of the departure for this AU (trickling down from the fact that Magnus is along for the ride and screwing with everything Rumple had so perfectly planned) is that when August approaches Bae (a bit earlier in this timeline) he isn't there for Emma, he's there for Bae. Hope that clears it up. If you guys ever have questions about stuff like that, feel free to ask :)

Next time - Emma meets Regina, August gets roped into doing Magnus' dirty work, and the twins pay Rumplestiltskin a visit.

Chapter Text

9.

He had been worried about introducing his papa to Emma because he feared that his father might come on too strong, but what Neal hadn't worked into his equation of nerves was that his girlfriend was one of the most fiercely protective people he'd ever met in his life. She rivaled his papa, and that said something. If she had magic, he was convinced that she could - and might - level a small town in attempt to protect someone she loved. His Emma was fierce and brilliant and just a little bit scary sometimes. He loved her, though, and he hoped that in time she and Rumplestiltskin would find at least one common denominator between them: Neal himself.

"So," the blonde said with her arms crossed and looking around the antique-littered house, "what's his deal?"

Neal blinked at her. "I actually thought he was on his best behaviour."

Emma snorted, picking up a small figurine and glaring at it like it has wronged her in a previous life. "He was lying about something."

"Not that again," he sighed a little too quickly. Emma had always been convinced that she could tell a lie as soon as it was spoken. She called it her superpower. He'd tested the theory a few times and found it dodgy at best, so he'd hoped that his papa could manage to somehow sidestep it.

"That again," Emma huffed and turned him with that face she always made when she wanted to be serious about something. "I know that this isn't any of my business-"

"Of course it's your business," Neal cut in.

Emma shrugged. "I don't know much about family. I should just stay out of it."

A sigh escaped him and he didn't give her a chance to duck him as he pulled her close. Instead of squirming she rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his middle. "I just don't want to see you get hurt again," she whispered.

"I know," he answered quietly and felt her grip tighten. "I can't promise that I won't be, but... So far he seems to really be trying, and I've seen enough to know he does need my help."

"Do you know who the guys are that are after him? I mean, he looks like the guy that people owe money too, not the other way around."

Neal chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "My dad made a lot of enemies when he was younger, I think. I can't just leave him here to get himself killed."

"I'd be so angry at him if I were you."

"I am, but he's still my papa." Another long breath escaped him. After Neverland, after his father didn't come for him, he'd decided to forget it all - the good and the bad - but the night before and that morning had reminded him of the man he'd missed so desperately. He didn't know how to explain to Emma that Rumplestiltskin had crossed worlds for him and was stuck in this crazy little town because of the curse he wrote to get himself there.

"Do you trust him?"

"That's... really complicated. I want to."

"You've never really told me the whole story, Neal," she said softly. "I mean, a good guy gone bad can mean all sorts of things, you know?"

He grimaced, but nodded. "You deserve the full story," he agreed, and he knew she did. "I just... Keep an open mind, okay?"

Emma opened her mouth to answer him, but both of their attention was stolen by the pounding at the door. Neal started to ignore it, but it came harder in the second round and he grumbled to himself as he turned back to it. He could see a distorted figure outside and as he stepped closer he heard Regina's voice. "Gold, this is important! Open up!"

Neal pulled the door open in a huff.

"Where's your father?"

"Hello to you too. He's not here yet."

"Where is he?"

"The shop. What's going on?"

Regina stepped over the threshold and dark eyes scanned the hall until they came to rest on Emma. Neal's and his papa's conversation about the curse, its caster, and the one that was destined to break it came to mind and he resisted the urge to step between the two. "Who's this?" Regina demanded, but the curt tone wasn't any worse than before she'd laid eyes on the blonde.

"I'm Emma. Neal's girlfriend."

"Ah. The girlfriend. You made it in." She turned back to Neal and he felt an unbelievable rush of relief. She didn't know. He really didn't feel like making an enemy of the one person that had helped him before his papa had come back to himself. "Your dad's not at the shop. His car is gone so I assumed he's here."

"What's going on?" Emma piped up.

"Graham arrested the guy that's trying to hurt your father, but a certain... individual threw everything for a loop when she bullied one of his little cohorts to take the fall."

Blue. He knew without Regina having to say it. "So Magnus is running free and knows that we're onto him?"

Regina shrugged. "Knows that I'm onto him, at least. I have nearly as much of a reason to be wary of his being here as Gold does." Her gaze flickered to Emma and Neal knew that she was biting her tongue for the sake of a girl that had no clue what was happening.

"I'll call him," he answered after a moment.

"He owns a cell?" Regina asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"I'm guessing Graham is a cop?" Emma asked as Neal dialed his father's number. "Why'd he let him go? Wouldn't he have to have more than just-"

"It's complicated," Regina snapped.

"Yeah, I get that, but I can't understand it with half the information."

An automated voicemail clicked into play and Neal frowned. "I'm going to go look for him. He said he wouldn't be right behind us."

Emma caught his arm. "This is bigger than you've said, isn't it?"

A frown tugged at his lips. "Yeah. Listen, if you want to head down to Boston and wait for me to -"

"Hell no. I'm not leaving you alone."

Her fierce and unwavering resolve made him smile. "Thanks, Emma."

"Anyway. You need me."

"Definitely."

"Well isn't that sweet," Regina grumbled, and Neal thought he liked her better when she was playing the part of helpful benefactor. At least now he knew now why his papa had reacted with distrust.

The door opened behind her, causing all three of them to jump and Rumplestiltskin looked a bit startled at finding his front hallway to be the new meeting grounds for their little party. He blinked and nearly dropped what looked like a grocery bag that he was trying to balance with opening the door and not losing his cane. He did manage to recover quickly. "I hear there's been quite a stir down at the sheriff's station, Regina. Thought we were working together on this."

Neal reached forward and grabbed the bag and set it down on a table. His papa offered him a brief thanks before turning a glare on his former student.

"I saw the opportunity and took it," the mayor growled. "So sue me for trying to help take the man that wants you dead off the streets."

He snorted. "And yet he's back out on them, and likely knows more than I'd care for him to."

Neal risked a look back at Emma who looked thoroughly confused. "Hey? Why don't we head upstairs and put your stuff down? I can try to...explain."

She didn't look convinced, but started after him when he took her hand and led her up the stairs.

August had never wanted to leave a place more than he wanted to leave Storybrooke, but he was trapped. Not by the curse that held people there, but by the very real threats silently holding his strings as surely as if he were a puppet once more. The Blue Fairy giveth and the Blue Fairy taketh away, he thought bitterly as he stood on the Main Street, looking into the workshop that his papa was tinkering away in. It was cold, just a few days before Christmas, and all he wanted to do was pull up a stool at the workbench with him and spend time that wasn't hampered by a curse that stole his memories or a few self righteous clerics and fairy that thought he seemed like the best option to use for their less-than-honest plans.

The author huffed a sigh, his breath showing in the cold air, and he sunk a little lower into his coat and scarf. They would have had a fire going during the winter festivities in their village back home. When he'd been very young - before her become a real boy - his papa had always pulled him back from the flames, fearful that he'd catch fire by stepping in too close. It had been a thing of wonder to watch the colours dance and swirl together. He'd thought it was magic.

"Hello?"

August startled out of the memories to the sound of his papa's voice. He found himself grinning like an idiot. "Hi. Hey. Not sure if you're open or not."

"Last minute Christmas shopping?" the man that wore his papa's face, spoke with his papa's voice, but answered to a different name asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah," the author lied easily. "I promise myself every year I'll do better, and here I am. The twenty-second and I'm scrounging,"

Marco - because he wasn't Geppetto, not really without his memories - laughed and held the door open for him. "My wife would always say the same thing, but she never finished until Christmas Eve."

August found himself smiling too. "Lots of kids to buy for?"

"Oh no," the carpenter answered. "We always wanted children, but it wasn't meant to be."

The smile faded a little. Geppetto had never been married as long as August had know him, but at least here he'd had a small comfort here in the false memories that he had, and someday, Blue might actually follow through with her promises. Then they could be together again.

"Take your time. Look around," Marco offered.

"Thanks. This is real quality work."

The elder man looked a bit embarrassed, but the bell ringing over the door caught their attention. August frowned at the two he'd heard referred to as the twins. They weren't identical, but they certainly looked enough alike for brothers. Silas and Soren were their names, and they seemed to be part of some sort of inner circle that Magnus kept near.

Soren offered a smile, though it looked a little less friendly and a little more calculating. "August. There you are. We thought you might have run off."

"Nope, just doing some last minute shopping," the writer answered and turned to inspect a cuckoo clock.

"Shop later. We're going to be late."

August felt a tug of fear and he pushed it aside. "It might not be here when I have a chance to swing back by."

"I'm happy to hold it for you," Marco offered. "Just leave your name and you can pick it up later."

"Booth," August said reluctantly. "August Booth."

Marco thanked him and the twins ushered him out into the cold. The snow was falling again and he offered a glare at the pair of them. "What? Am I not even allowed to talk to him now? You people need to let me know when the rules change."

"You can talk to him when we're done," Silas groused.

"Done with what?"

Soren's lips stretched into a wicked smile. "We're going to pay Mr Gold a visit."

"His shop was closed down when I passed by," August pointed out, not bothering to ask what the visit was about. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to know any of it.

"Good for you then. You won't have to worry about him shooting you when you break in."

August turned a questioning look on Silas. "Break in? To the Dark One's shop? Do you think I'm insane?"

"I think you'll do what you're told, Puppet."

The author swallowed hard. "What am I looking for exactly?"

Soren's smile broadened. "A knife. A very old one with his name on it."

"Gold?"

"Rumplestiltskin."

She was mad. Absolutely mad. Rumplestiltskin couldn't believe what had possessed his former student to think that having her pet sheriff arrest Magnus was a good idea. All she had done was manage to put herself in his sights and likely alert him to the fact that he was awake. If he hadn't already agreed to an alliance with her - if, damn it all, he didn't need her for this - he would have ended her life right there. Instead he had sent her home, tail tucked and Dark One seething. At least he still knew how to get through to her. That was something, he supposed.

"That pasta do something to offend you, Papa?"

Rumplestiltskin startled, looking over his shoulder to find his son leaned up against the wide, open doorway that led into the kitchen from the sitting room. He looked like he might have been there for a bit, just waiting to see if his papa would notice. He'd done that as a child when Rumplestiltskin lost himself to his spinning. He would look up and find hours had gone by and his little boy would be waiting (mostly) patiently for him to reach a stopping point.

He sighed, looking down at the pasta he'd been stirring in time with his once again rising temper. "Just frustrated. I need to get back out after dinner and get a few things from the shop."

"Like what? Why?"

"There's no way to know if Magnus knows I'm awake or not. There are items at the shop I need to keep close and out of his reach."

"Like the dagger?"

He hadn't wanted to say it, but that was Bae: honest to an almost painful point. Rumplestiltskin risked a glance up and found a pair of dark eyes that were so like his own watching him very carefully and he nodded.

"There's no magic here, Papa. He can't hurt you. Not with that. You're free."

A short, mirthless laugh laughed him. "Free," he echoed and placed the cover over the pasta to soak in the sauce. "And what if they take it and find a way to bring magic here?"

"There's no way to bring magic here," Bae said quickly. "That was the whole point."

"Said who?"

"The… Okay. I get your point," his son said quietly. So said the Blue Fairy. The one that had sent some young man after him to use him. She was working with Magnus as she had off and on over the centuries. He hadn't been directly involved in the bean incident, but Rumplestiltskin wouldn't have put it past them for it to have been a joint effort to send the Dark One off to his doom. Bae had told him enough about where he landed to know that he would have died without the preparations he'd made with the curse he'd given to Regina. He'd padded the trip, made sure that his weaknesses were compensated for. Blue wouldn't have given it a thought. She likely meant to send him off to his death, the damn sparkling bug.

Rumplestiltskin moved to the cutting board and laid the seasoned chicken out across it, carefully cutting it into long strips and then down into smaller chunks. "I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"I'll go with you then. I don't want you going alone with this guy gunning for you."

A smile crept up. "I appreciate your concern, Bae, but I'll manage just fine. I'll even take the phone with me so that you feel better, alright?" His eyes remained focused on his work, but he heard Baelfire shift closer behind him. "Anyway, don't you want to spend some time with Emma? How did that explanation go?"

He could almost hear the frown that tugged at his son's lips. "Yeah, well… She's a skeptic at heart."

"Did you try?"

"I may have freaked a little." Rumplestiltskin tilted his head and Bae chuckled at him. "Panicked."

"Did you lie to her?"

"I… may have fudged the truth," he whispered.

"It'll bite you. I speak from experience. Lie all you want, son, but never to those you care about. Never for your own gain."

Bae walked over to the pot and pulled the lid from it, stirring at the pasta idly. "I know. It just sounds crazy, you know? How do you say 'By the way, I haven't been totally honest. When I say that I ran away from home at fifteen, I really meant that I dropped through a magical portal that spit me out in London at the turn of the century. I preceded to live out the next couple of centuries in Neverland after Pan's shadow hauled me off. That doesn't even begin to cover how I so little time passed here compared to what I experienced there." He paused and Rumplestiltskin looked back to see his shoulders sagging a bit. "And then what? My dad cast a curse to bring everyone here so that he could find me? That would go over great."

"I see your point," his papa answered as he dumped the chunks of chicken into a frying pan and limped over to the stove. "Where is she now?"

"Shower. We're good for another twenty minutes or so to talk about anything."

"Do you love her?" Bae blinked at him and Rumplestiltskin turned the heat up on the pan. "It's a simple question."

"I do love her, but that's not a simple question."

"Sure it is. Perhaps not a simple answer, but it is, most assuredly, a simple question."

"I know I have to be honest with her."

"You do."

He heard his son pull in a deep breath. "Papa, you said you were speaking from experience… Was there someone after Mom?"

Well that was something he didn't want to talk about. "It's been over three hundred years since your mother left, Bae." He kicked himself as soon as the words left his mouth, but Bae didn't seem to respond to them. Maybe he already knew that his mother had left rather than died. He'd always been a bright boy.

"I'm not judging. I'm just curious. I didn't know if… Well, if your curse let you love."

Rumplestiltskin stopped immediately and turned to face his only child. "I love you, Bae."

"I know," Baelfire said quickly. "I meant any sort of romantic love. I know you love me, Papa. I love you too."

A smile perked thin lips, but even Rumplestiltskin knew it didn't reach all the way to his eyes. The thought of Belle still tugged at his scarred soul. He'd forced her out and she'd met her end. It was, he knew, his own fault. With many deaths on his conscious, hers weighed the heaviest. "We're not talking about me, Baelfire. We were talking about you."

His son chuckled. "Did I mention the woman I love is a skeptic?"

He dumped the chicken into the pasta and covered it back up to sit for a few minutes in the sauce. "I'd already guessed as much."

"You sure you don't want me to go with you over to the shop?"

"It'll be fine, Bae. It's best you don't know where I hide it, that way you're not at risk."

"I'm supposed to be here to help and I feel like I haven't done a lot of that yet."

His papa quirked an eyebrow. "Really, because I seem to have this odd little memory of you saving me from being gunned down in my own shop. Then you managed to help return my memories to me so that I know what's happening. If you hadn't, I never would stand a chance."

Bae ducked his head a little. "I guess there's that."

Rumplestiltskin chuckled, but any further conversation was cut off by the sound of footsteps coming down the wooden stairs. Emma entered, blonde hair wet and knotted up on her head and what looked like one of Baelfire's t-shirts on. She sniffed the air and grinned. "Okay, if that tastes half as good as it smells, then you need to teach your son to cook."

"Like you can do any better," Bae teased.

"At least I know how long to put a pot pie in the microwave for. Hint: not as long as the oven. They're different machines. And I make a mean breakfast, thank you so much." She turned and offered Rumplestiltskin an exasperated look. "Seriously, tell me the truth, did you raise Neal in a cave or something? He'll never tell me where he's from. Just that it was this tiny little town that I wouldn't know the name of. Was this it?"

Rumplestiltskin couldn't help but chuckle at her. She'd been hostile at first, but curiosity was overwhelming that at least for the moment. He'd prefer to play nice with the little savior, especially if his son cared for her. "No, it was smaller than Storybrooke. We didn't have a great deal when Bae was growing up."

"Win the lotto after he left or something?" Emma asked, and he couldn't quite tell if she was being serious or not. She crossed the kitchen to peek into the oven at the bread that was almost ready.

"I made a few good deals," Rumplestiltskin answered. "I'm a businessman, but everything I've done, I've done to find my son."

She turned to look at him, her hazel eyes squinted as if she were trying to read his words and weigh them for truths and lies. Finally she seemed satisfied. "Okay."

"Okay?" Bae echoed her.

"Either your dad is one hell of a liar, or at least that much is true." She turned back to the elder man. "I don't know if Neal told you, but I've got this sixth sense about liars. I can always tell. You're hiding something, but I believe you that you've been trying to find Neal. He seems to trust you, so you better not hurt him again."

She was very serious in tone and mannerisms, and if they had been in the Enchanted Forest he would have laughed at her. This little princess had gall to talk to one of the most powerful sorcerer in the worlds like that, even if said princess didn't know that she was just that, and said sorcerer didn't have access to magic. She was either cocky or presumptuous, and most certainly not afraid of him. Leave it to Bae to fall for a young lady quite like this. If she could manage to accept what he had to say, their young love might just be something great.

He pulled himself out of those thoughts. This brave girl deserved a truthful answer from him. "I'd rather die than see my son hurt again in any way."

She watched him carefully. After a moment she shrugged, seeming to accept the statement for the truth it was. "Then we're on the same page. Let's eat!"

Dinner went surprisingly smooth after that and Bae seemed to relax a bit after a few minutes of chatter. It was odd to have a house that had been so quiet for something nearing twenty years to be so full of noise and laughter, but Rumplestiltskin could get used to it. Well, so long as Bae was at the center of it, at any rate.

First, though, he needed to make sure that he and his son remained safe. In this world without magic he found that he'd come out on top of Magnus in his place in their little society. That damn cleric might have been able to plan, but now he could too. He wouldn't risk him getting ahead by getting his hands on the Kris Dagger. If he did, he might find a way to bring magic to this place and control him. He'd known Magnus long enough to know that no deed was outside of the realm of possibilities if he thought it would help him obtain his goal.

Rumplestiltskin knew that Bae didn't like the idea of him driving over there alone and he made a show of taking that infernal device that his son asked him to keep with him. He was more than capable of using it, he just didn't like to be attached to it. Anyway, it was unlikely that Magnus had set his next plan into motion - it took him seventeen years to find Bae and start this whole fiasco, so if anyone else had proven to be an expert at the long game, it was Magnus - but that didn't mean that he wouldn't. He needed to act quickly.

The town was quiet for the relatively early hour of the evening. The sun was dipping down and one glance at the clock atop the library showed that Emma's arrival hadn't jarred it into working order, even if there had been the barest of pulsed when she had entered the town. If Regina had felt it at all, she likely had waved it off to simply another person causing a stir in her town.

The car engine died as he switched it off around the back side of the shop. He didn't want to announce his presence there by parking in the usual place. That had him going in the back of the shop and he immediately knew something was wrong. The curtains that separated the front from the back were moving, as if the front door had been opened as well and the draft was catching it. He paused where he was, completely still and listening, and was rewarded by the sound of soft footsteps coming from the front. Perhaps Magnus had moved quicker than he thought.

Rumplestiltskin stepped as quietly as he could. His ankle twinged painfully under the stress, but he managed to make it over to the shelf where he knew the knife had been tucked away for years. Gold had never known why it kept getting shoved further and further back, but Rumplestiltskin was glad it did as he dug as quietly as he could for it. He laid a hand against the wrapped dagger and pulled it from its place, slipping it silent into his inside coat pocket and moving as quietly as he could for the door.

Whoever was in the front of his shop was focused on their task and it gave him his escape. Rumplestiltskin ducked out into the cold of the early evening, remembering that he had left the cell in the car.

He had his hand on the car door when he heard the movement, but didn't get turned around in time before the person behind him latched onto his collar and tore him back off his feet. He stumbled, the weight suddenly on his bad ankle making it fold under him and a sharp cry bit through the air as he fell to the alley street.

His attackers moved into his line of sight and Rumplestiltskin cursed his own assumptions. He recognized Silas and Soren. They were Magnus' trusted twins that loved a good chance to exchange blows with the Dark One. They'd never gotten the upper hand on him. Not until now. Here, though he had power in the form of money and clout, it meant nothing against two men several inches taller and much stronger.

Silas moved to haul him up by the lapels of his overcoat and shoved him hard into the brick wall of the outside of his shop. A grunt of pain escaped him and he didn't have a chance to brace himself as a fist landed hard against his gut. The coat and layers beneath absorbed some of the blow, but it was hard enough to leave him sputtering.

He was shoved forward then, another hand coming down and pulling the top layer from his shoulders and leaving him more exposed. The coat was tossed to the side, the clerics unaware of the prize inside, and he found himself face to face with Soren. His eyes were narrowed as if studying the man he held captive and Rumplestiltskin understood. They were there to see if they were attacking Gold or the Dark One. Damn Regina. A thousand times over damn her.

"What do you people want?" he demanded, hiding very securely behind the shell he had been tucked away inside for the last seventeen years.

"It's not him," Soren growled.

"Don't be so quick to judge," his brother answered. "He's a clever Dark One."

"A clever what?" the shop owner tried to demand, but the last word was cut off by another blow that was not shielded by as many layers. Soren tossed him back down to the street and he couldn't help but curl into himself a little, coughing and trying to pull the cold air into his lungs.

"I think you know," one of them said and a sharp blow came down on his back, a heavy boot slamming into him once as he was trying to pull himself up and again into his ribs to send him tumbling. "I think you know a whole lot more than you'd like to let on."

Rumplestiltskin couldn't get off the ground as another blow hit and then another. He cried out and his vision swam as his head smacked hard against the street. Bae had been right, he thought as darkness tried to swallow him. This hadn't been one of his more clever moves.

TBC

Notes: Well, better late than never. At least I got it up this afternoon, even if I didn't get it up first thing this morning. Sorry guys! This weekend was a mad rush to get everything done that didn't happen the last weekend while I was sick, including that wonderful event of bridesmaid dress shopping. Oh fun. Love the fact that I ended up ordering the first one over the phone anyway and that I found nothing yesterday. Ugh. Needless to say I got home yesterday, sat down to do some work, and realized that I had a chapter to edit down. Didn't get finished till this afternoon. Sorry about that! It's here now though!

Next time - August lands himself in the middle of a very bad situation, Rumple strikes a deal, and Bae breaks down and tells Emma where he's from.

Chapter Text

10.

August heard the commotion from inside the shop and curiosity got the better of him. He slipped through the curtain that led to the back room and he could hear a yelp of pain that nearly had him turning right back around. He had his own family to worry about. He liked Neal, but his father was the Dark One. For him, it was best to stay as neutral as possible.

Then he heard a voice. It was a voice that he'd have known anywhere, and had heard just before he'd broken into the little pawnshop.

"What are you doing back here?" Marco asked loudly and August peeked through the blinds covering the back window. The clock worker was standing just inside the alley, staring at the two men that were looming over a very dazed looking Mr Gold. There was no mistaking the look in Silas and Soren's eyes when they knew they'd been spotted.

August broke into a run, flying through the shop and out the broken front door. They'd promised to leave his papa alone as long as he did what they asked, and he'd be damned if they'd hurt him now.

Soren was reared back like he was going to put Marco flat on his back when the young writer rounded the corner. "Hey!" he shouted, and the cleric stopped before the blow landed. Their eyes met and his brother let out a low growl, but August didn't flinch. "Why don't you pick on someone who has a chance at fighting back?" he demanded.

The brothers exchanges looks and Soren released Marco. The glare that they gave August said it all: Magnus would make good on his threats. He had already made his immediate decision though, and it has been for his papa. Maybe if he helped Rumplestiltskin home, Neal would be willing to return the favour.

"You came just in time," Marco said as the clerics scurried off. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, they didn't look like they were going to let you off any easier than Mr Gold here."

They both turned to the shopkeeper who seemed to be coming too on the icy ground. He blinked several times as Marco knelt down, ready to help steady him as he tried to sit, and he offered him his cane that had been tossed aside. "Easy," August's papa encouraged and Rumplestiltskin didn't look like he was certain what day it was. The side of his face was caked in blood from a nasty gash at his hairline and he winced as he moved.

"I'm fine, thank you," he said automatically, though it looked like he might still have felt the ground beneath him sway a little.

"August?" Marco called, and for the briefest of moments he'd forgotten that that was the name he'd given to him in the shop just a little bit earlier. "Do you have a cell phone? Mr Gold looks like he may need a trip to the hospital."

"No, I'm fine. No hospital needed."

"If you have a concussion and no one is there," Marco began to argue.

"My son's there," he said as he struggled to his feet. Interesting. Rumplestiltskin did know who he was. August wondered when that had happened. "I just-" He swayed and Marco caught him before he ended up back in a heap on the ground.

"At least let me drive you home?" he offered.

August bent over and grabbed the discarded coat and somehow he and Marco ushered the dazed shop owner to Marco's car and drove him home.

He seemed to steady out on the way there, eyes growing sharper even if his fingers gently explored the cut that had more or less stopped bleeding. August thought he looked worse than he might have actually been, but helping Marco get him home got them both away from the scene, and he could only hope Neal would be willing to help him. Not that he knew how to explain to his cursed papa why he needed help.

It was a good thing that Marco knew where to go, because August didn't have the faintest clue. He'd seen pieces of Storybrooke since arriving, but it was a lot bigger than it first appeared to be. While most of the stores and shops seemed to line the Main Street, there appeared to be a couple housing communities, a few apartments, and maybe some additional housing of some form or another down near the ocean. The houses were getting nicer the further the wound Marco's old, sputtering car in, but he seemed to know just where to go, though August couldn't imagine a scenario when he would have been by there before.

The car pulled into a long driveway behind a tattered old Volkswagen Bug that August was quite certain didn't belong to Gold.

"I can make it from here," the human Dark One said shortly as he unfolded from the cramped back seat.

He looked like he was feeling the beating already, but he seemed steady enough that Marco almost let him go. He would have, too, had August not stepped out and around the car. "We should really make sure you get in okay."

Marco followed then and Rumplestiltskin looked too put out to argue. He fumbled in his coat for his keys and pushed the door open. They were met almost immediately with the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs by the front door and Neal's voice accompanied them. "Did you find what you were looking for...Papa?" His voice trailed off and dark eyes came to rest on August. "You."

The author immediately raised his hands in defence. "Hey, here to help. Your dad got jumped and we pulled him out of it."

Neal didn't waste time coming down the rest of the stairs and he had a hand on his father's arm immediately, worry in his eyes. Rumplestiltskin, for his part, gave a small smile at the undaunted sign of affection. "I'm okay," he murmured.

"We need to talk, Neal," August said firmly. "It'll only take a second."

Dark eyes flickered back to Marco who looked like he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself and Neal offered the same easy smile that he'd used on August when they'd pretended to know each other in the bar and stretched his hand out. "Hey, I'm Neal. Could I get you to stay in here with him while August gives me the details? Don't want him passing out on us."

"Of course, of course," Marco answered immediately and Rumplestiltskin glared a bit at his son, but said nothing. For whatever problems they may have had or might still have, it looked like the Dark One trusted his son. Maybe Magnus had been onto something.

He hadn't been worried yet because his papa hadn't been gone long, so when he showed up with the beginnings of a black eye, his left arm wrapped around his ribs, and August Booth hovering closely by, Neal thought he might have some worrying to catch up on. He'd tried to give the man he had thought might be a friend as much of a chance as possible after he'd delivered him into this mess, but there was no way around it now. He couldn't imagine what explanation he could reasonably give that would put him in the middle of this.

"Marco is my papa," he said very quietly. "He doesn't remember because of the curse, but that doesn't keep Magnus from threatening him to get what he wants. They had me looking for something in his shop - some sort of knife, I don't know why - when they jumped him outside. Marco got in the middle of it and-"

"And now he's in the middle of everything," Neal murmured. He looked over to August who wore one of the most conflicted looks he thought he'd ever seen.

"I don't know how to protect him. He doesn't even know who I am."

"Yeah, I know how that is," the older man breathed and his dark eyes flickered back to the hall. He could hear Emma's voice drifting in and he sighed.

"Can your dad restore his memories?"

Neal shrugged. "No clue. I'll ask, though. Until then, I think you should both go straight over to the sheriff's station and let him know what's going on as best as you can. Tell him you're worried for Marco's safety. Maybe he can put someone on it?"

"What about me?"

"You're going back to Magnus," Rumplestiltskin said from the entrance, drawing both of their attention. He was standing carefully, but at least he'd washed some of the blood away from his face. That helped tremendously.

"He'll kill me," August argued, and Neal's papa snorted.

"Not if he thinks you're useful, and you're going to make yourself indispensable to him."

"How?"

"Leave that to me," Rumplestiltskin said with a thin smile. "Bae's right about sending Marco to Graham. He'll take care of him. There are a few people that I know are certainly not in Magnus' pocket, and he's one of them."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know who he belongs to."

Neal watched his papa and August watch each other, both weighing options for the next best move, but Rumplestiltskin at least appeared confident that the writer would take his advice. Finally, August nodded. "Okay. I've always heard you make good on your deals. You keep my father safe, and I'll work the inside angle. Deal?"

"Deal," the elder man answered and reached forward, shaking August's hand.

August nodded, looking nervous but determined. He turned back to Neal. "Same side?"

"Yeah, looks like it."

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you found him."

Neal knew his papa's eyes were on him then and he felt a small smile perk his lips. "Me too."

He watched the writer leave with the man that didn't even know that he was his son and Neal knew the pain that that caused. He felt a hand on his shoulder and his papa offered a strained smile. "He'll be fine. Don't worry yourself over them too much. That boy is resourceful."

"Did you know him?"

"No, but I know just what that sort of desperation inspires in people."

"So I think it's time to get a little more information," Emma said from her place. Her arms were crossed and Neal knew that sidestepping this time wouldn't be an option.

"I'll let you two talk," his papa offered softly. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."

"You're okay though?" Neal asked,

"I've been worse," Rumplestiltskin answered dismissively and started up the stairs.

"Neal? What's going on?" Emma asked quietly. "What the hell is your dad in the middle of? And don't give me the bullshit you did before. This is serious."

Neal winced at her tone, but there was worry in her eyes. She reached forward and took his hand. "I love you, remember? Whatever it is, I'm with you. I'm not going to run."

"Promise?" he whispered and she rolled her eyes.

"Idiot. Of course I promise."

He pulled in a deep breath and motioned for her to follow. It was now or never. They took a seat on the couch in the livingroom and Neal pulled in a deep breath. "This is going to sound crazy. Just know that I'm totally aware of that."

"Okay? Just tell me the truth. That's all I'm asking for." A hint of mischief flickered through her expression. "And you know I'll know."

The tease made him smile a little. "You know how you make fun of me because of all the stuff I don't recognize? Like... Pop culture references and stuff?"

Emma snorted. "Yeah. You grew up under a rock in the middle of nowhere. I get that after seeing this place."

"More like...in a different place," he tried, tasting the words as they left his lips. There was no way this wouldn't sound crazy. His papa had said Emma was originally from the Enchanted Forest as well, but she couldn't possibly have memories of it.

"What kind of place?"

Oh, he was going to hate himself, he knew that, but she had promised not to run. If he really did love her, he had to be honest. "The kind that doesn't exist in this world." He held up his hands at the look that said she thought he was teasing. "Just hear me out? I don't know how many, but I know there are other worlds out there besides this one. They're different from here."

"What, like planets?"

"Like realms?" he tried.

She snorted, her expression anything but entertained. "What, like Neverland? Seriously, Neal, I want the truth."

"This is the truth!" he argued. "The place where I grew up is called the Enchanted Forest. My dad took on this curse when I was fourteen to try to keep me from going to a war, but it drove him a little crazy, so I found a way for us to come here. He... He let me fall through the portal alone. That's why we've been separated. That's why I was so angry and never wanted to talk about it, but he created this curse to cross realms and look for me... Emma, please, I'm not lying to you. Please stop looking at me like that." She was staring like she was waiting for the first opportunity to bolt. He swallowed hard. "Use your superpower. I'm telling you the truth."

She pulled in a deep breath and then loosed it in the form of a sigh, her expression more guarded than it had been in some time. "You think you are, but that doesn't mean it's real, Neal."

She stood without another word and he was frozen to the couch as he listened to the retreating footsteps and the sound of the front door opening and closing. He'd lost her. He had tried to be honest and he had lost her. The reality of that took hold slowly, like the knot that had formed deep in his gut was reaching up to cut off his air from the inside and he couldn't bring himself to move.

Rumplestiltskin winced as he turned to shut off the water from his shower, bruised and battered ribs aching in protest of the movement. They knew. They had to know, and if that was all they'd come out with that day, he would have told Bae to take Emma and run. He would hate himself for it, but it would keep his son safe. August, thankfully, had bought him time. If the carpenter's son could make good on his end of the bargain then they would have more information about what was happening. He could manage to keep one man safe for that. He'd do anything for time with his own son.

He carefully leaned in towards the mirror, inspecting the cut that had bled so badly. It wouldn't need stitches, just some careful care. It wasn't like he wanted Whale poking and prodding at him anyway. That decided, he slipped into a pair of slacks and a dress shirt. It was casual, and something Gold wouldn't have let anyone see. He wore his suits like armor and they did a fine job of portraying a very different - and more effective, at least in this world - kind of power than his leathers back home had, but certainly no less. He didn't need to hide behind power here, he reminded himself. His son and the woman his son loved were the ones that were here, and he would trust them. Well, he would trust in Bae and therefore in Bae's judgement.

His movements were slow, but he knew better than to sit down and let his joints stove up on him. Rumplestiltskin limped painfully back down the stairs and listened for the conversation that was likely still being had. When he didn't hear any voices he moved around, spotting his son sitting in the couch. Bae sat still, staring straight ahead until the sound of his papa's cane on the hardwood floors caught his attention.

Rumplestiltskin's remarks that would have been were instantly silenced at the look of pain in his son's eyes. "Bae, what happened?"

"I told her the truth," he whispered. "I told her the truth and she walked out."

This lips twitched downward and his heart clenched in his chest. "Bae, I-"

"You what?" the younger man snapped. "You've got something to fix this? Some magical fix-all that'll bring her back and make her get it? That will make her realize I'm not crazy?"

Rumplestiltskin stood rigidly where he was, his son's harsh tone slicing through him like a knife. He tried to steady himself, reminding himself that a broken heart could make a person say some of the nastiest of things. That reminder didn't help ease the next round at all.

"You can't even do that, can you?" Bae asked, defeat in his voice, and he slumped down into the couch. "I should have listened to my instincts and never have come. It would have been better if you'd never have come looking for me. I could have had a life, you know, but no. You had to come barging back in after three hundred years and throw everything back into chaos." He squeezed his eyes shut and a tear slipped out. "It was a hell of a lot easier when I could just hate you."

He didn't know what to say. He'd fought so hard and so long to get back to Bae that he'd never even considered that he would be disrupting a life he'd made for himself. A thousand explanations rose in his throat, and had the Dark Curse been broken, had his own curse had a foothold in him again beyond the bare whispers he heard in his dreams, Rumplestiltskin might have let one or more escape. Instead he swallowed them down hard. "I'm so sorry, Bae. You're...you're right. I just wanted - needed - to say how sorry I am for it all and...and that I love you, son. More than anything. More than the power or the dagger. That's why I came here to this world."

Bae looked around at him and none of the hateful words echoed in his eyes. Instead they were full of hurt and tears. "I'm sorry, Papa," he whispered, standing and looking very young in that moment. He crossed the space between them and, without warning, pulled his father into a crushing hug that made his bruised ribs protest. It didn't matter though, not so long as it was Bae "I'm so sorry, Papa. You came for me. It's not your fault Emma left."

Rumplestiltskin wrapped an arm around his son's neck. "Never apologize to me," he said as firmly as his breaking voice would allow. If Bae had a few abandonment issues, they were most certainly his fault. He couldn't change the past, but he could try to own up to it. It was more than his father had ever done for him. "Not to me, son."

"I love you too, Papa," Bae whispered, still clinging to him. "I just..."

"I know. I'm sorry." He held onto his boy for a long while, letting him cling as long as he liked. He'd gone through too much pain on his own, and Rumplestiltskin would rather have suffered for the rest of his existence than to let that happen again. He wouldn't fail him this time.

He was crazy. Of course she'd picked the crazy one. She always picked the crazies. The only foster mother that had loved her enough to want to adopt her had been a loon too. It seemed like people had to be crazy to love her. What did that say about her?

Emma hadn't bothered with the keys to the bug, but followed where her feet took her. That, apparently, was through the falling snow and towards the main part of town. It was just days before Christmas and once again her life was upside down and all over the place. She'd thought she had finally found a home with Neal. Maybe someday she'd learn.

Her sneaker stubbed into a block of ice and she glared at it through tears that hadn't quite fallen yet. With everything she had she kicked it, sending it flying down the snowy street and it thunked hard into a car. Emma felt her face heat and the tears that had only been threatening up until that point finally spilled over. She hated this place, but she had nowhere to go. She was seventeen with no family and a boyfriend that was insane. It had been a while since she's felt this lonely.

"You better hope that didn't dent my car," a voice said from behind and Emma whirled around to see the woman from that afternoon.

She blinked at her, trying to recall her name. "Sorry," the blonde managed with a sniff, looking down to her shoes. She didn't know what this lady did in town, but Neal had been pretty casual with her. Somehow she called shots when it came to arresting people, though, and she preferred to stay out of jail if she could help it. "It got away from me."

"This is why I liked it before you kids started poking your noses around here. No one dared to kick a rock at my car."

Emma found herself staring. Who the hell did this woman think she was? "It wasn't a rock. It was a snowball that iced over, and, well you'll have one less by tomorrow," she snapped. "I don't plan to stick around any longer than I have to."

Regina. That was her name. Regina tilted her head to the side, studying her. "Trouble in paradise already?"

"Would have been nice if I'd known my boyfriend was crazy before I trekked across the country to come help him." She found a pair of curious brown eyes on her and she sighed. "He started going on and on about curses and magic and other worlds... I don't know. He's never talked like before. Is his dad weird like that? Is that what set him off?"

Regina looked like she was weighing options for a moment, but after a few moments she sighed. "Why don't we take this conversation out of the cold, hmm?" she offered, her voice much more pleasant now that she didn't sound like she was sneering at everything.

Emma found herself nodding and followed her down the street and past the car she'd smacked with the clump of ice and snow. "So, Emma, how old are you? You look young to be traveling with a boyfriend."

"Nineteen," she lied. At barely seventeen it was a stretch for some, but she had found that lie easier for most to swallow over eighteen, somehow. Anyway, Neal lied up about his age all the time and no one batted an eye. His driver's license even had him several years older than he actually was.

"College?"

"Not really my thing." It might have been, she thought, if things had worked out. Even though she had hopped around a lot in school she had somehow managed to do well. In her stint with Ingrid she had almost finished up all her credits for high school. She promised herself when she did actually turn eighteen - when they couldn't get to her anymore - she'd see what had to be done to finish it.

"That's a shame. You seem like a bright girl."

Emma shrugged and followed her into what looked like the town hall. "Are you a cop or something?" she asked hesitantly.

Regina laughed. "No. I'm the mayor."

She opened the door to an office that had her name and title on it and Emma's eyes went wide. "Wow." It was the fanciest office she'd ever seen, decorated in black and white. She found herself starting forward, taking everything in. Regina didn't move to stop her, so she found her way to the large window. The sun had ducked below the horizon hours before and Storybrooke was lit up for the holiday. It looked cheerful and Emma was reminded exactly why she was not.

"So what did Neal say?" Regina prompted and Emma frowned.

"He started talking about this curse he thinks his dad has cast or something insane like that. I don't know. It was weird. He's never said anything like that. I don't know if-"

"What sort of curse?"

Emma blinked. "I don't know. Something to find him or save him or something."

The dark haired mayor moved around the desk, her heels clicking against the hard floor. She sat, looking almost regal in her actions. "I take it you don't believe him?"

"How could I?" she demanded. "It's insane." Regina didn't answer right away and Emma threw her hands up in the air. "I mean, c'mon, magic? What is with these people? Do I look that gullible? I'm not a kid, you know. Fairytales aren't real."

"They most certainly are not. This is the real world, Miss Swan. If you want something in this world, you take it."

"Is that how you got to where you are?"

Regina tilted her chin up a bit. "It is," she answered proudly, but Emma wasn't sure why. Sure, she had a huge office with a pretty view of the snow covered streets and shops lit up for Christmas, but there was something familiar in her prickly expression and standoffish approach. She was lonely. She may have been safe and powerful to the point that no one could hurt her, but she was alone. After so long, Emma was tired of being alone.

"I guess I really should take what I want, huh? No matter what it costs."

Regina smiled. "That's the kind of outlook that can take you anywhere."

"Thanks," the blonde answered with a hint of a smile. Neal may have sounded a little crazy, but she missed him already. She's never missed anyone before Ingrid, and if the woman hadn't nearly gotten her killed, she might have gone back. She glanced back to a woman not much younger than the one she'd run away from and her smile grew a bit more. "I owe you one," she said as she left the office, promising herself that she wouldn't make the same mistakes this time. Emma didn't have to be alone. She could try to stay for Neal and wrap her mind around whatever it was he was trying to tell her. She loved him, and she didn't question that he loved her. Maybe that was enough to take the risk.

Those were the thoughts tumbling around in her mind all the way back to Gold's house, the sound of the clocktower chiming away the hour on the main street.

They'd sat and talked a bit after Emma walked out. He had made sure his papa was alright from Magnus' last attempt on his life and Rumplestiltskin waved him off, far more interested in discussing how useful his son thought August would be in information gathering. He had always been clever when Bae had been a child, but now he seemed to have become a true chess player in which those that surrounded him were the pieces. When Neal pointed that out, his papa was quick to remind him that August was getting more out of this arrangement with him than he would have with the Blue Fairy.

"She's tricky," his papa said. "She'll hint that she can restore Gepetto's memories, but in reality only the caster of the curse can do that."

"Can you?"

"Not directly. I don't have any access to magic here right now."

Neal quirked an eyebrow. "Can you bring it?"

A slow, thin smile stretched thin lips. "I made preparations, yes."

"Will you?"

To his credit, he seemed to think about it for a moment. "I don't know. I'd meant to. I'd meant to use it to find you, but you're here now." He leaned back in his chair carefully, wincing as he did. Neal didn't miss the way his arm settled protectively across his ribs. "I still have enemies though."

"Enemies that are able to use magic," his son pointed out.

"True."

"Can you leave? Storybrooke, I mean? I don't have a lot, but we could go if they couldn't follow us, right? You wrote the curse and all."

"I'm not running from them," Rumplestiltskin snapped, dark eyes flashing before he shot Neal an apologetic look. His voice was softer when he tried to explain. "I won't cower back, Bae. I'm not that man anymore."

Neal nodded, not wanting to push. It didn't take much to see how his papa hated the fact that people could get the upper hand on him, but at least in Storybrooke he seemed to have a fair amount of money and prestige. They might attack him, but now that he was awake and knew who the enemy was, he could fight back. His son didn't want magic brought to this place, but if he had to choose, he was fairly certain that he couldn't risk losing his father again. He'd thought Rumplestiltskin loved his power more than he loved him, but he'd been wrong. At least it certainly seemed like he was wrong. They would never be what they had once been, but Bae wasn't a child anymore. They had both lived for centuries now. There were bound to be some changes on both ends.

"Anyway, no one can cross the town line," his papa said with a shrug. "This is a cursed town that was designed to keep people in. In theory someone might be able to cross it with the savior, but it's a theory I'd rather not test, even if she'd be willing."

Neal frowned and sighed. "So what now?"

"Now it's a waiting game. Magnus will be careful. There were times when I wouldn't see him for decades. His first attempt on my life here was when he sent his men in with you."

"Yeah, and he's been at it since."

"He thinks I'm awake. We're now playing a game of chess. He'll be more careful."

"So what? This was a warning?" Neal asked, motioning to his papa's bruised face.

Rumplestiltskin snorted. "A test. He'll suspect, and that will slow him down."

A knock caught both men's attention and Rumplestiltskin motioned for Neal to stay seated. "I need to get up and move anyway," he said by way of excuse and his son remained where he was half buried in the couch, listening for any signs that his father was wrong and that Magnus was at the door now. He tilted his head, listening intently, and finally heard the door close, but the footsteps that approached the sitting room weren't accompanied by the tapping of a cane. Dark eyes blinked when his father didn't return, but he was greeted by another familiar face.

Emma stood hesitating in the doorway, her nose red from the cold and her hands still stuffed deeply in his pockets. "I don't think your dad really wanted to let me back in," she said softly.

"He gets a little overprotective sometimes. The fact that he let you in at all is big for him."

"There's a lot I don't know, isn't there?"

Neal stood, and in that moment he felt like he was balanced by precariously between to lives. On one side was Baelfire and the love that a boy he'd been had held for his papa. It had held out, somehow, buried beneath the pain and the resentment, but it had led him there. On the other side was Neal and the life he'd been wanting to make with Emma. He loved her and he didn't want to drive her away. He didn't want to lie to her either. It would only put her in danger. "There is."

She nodded and stepped forward. "I'm not saying I believe you yet," she warned defensively.

"But?"

A small smile tilted her lips. "But I do love you, and that has to count for something right?"

Neal's face split into a grin and Emma was suddenly in his arms. "I love you too. I swear I'm not lying to you, but... I'll find some way to prove it. I know how you are with proof."

She gave a short laugh. "Yeah. Kind of a fan," she pulled back and matched his grin. "So, I know we're still a couple days out, but I have a request for Christmas." She tipped up on her toes and whispered in his ear. Neal's eyes went wide and he had to remind himself to blink.

His papa wasn't going to like that one bit.

Caiden couldn't help but cringe a little at the last scream that escaped under the door. Soren and Silas had never liked their plans to be disrupted, but if Blue found out that they were taking it out on the puppet that she had been using, they might find themselves more divided than they were already. She was very uncomfortable with the route that Magnus at chosen to take in this and the further down the path they traveled, the more antsy the lead fairy became.

"What are your thoughts?" Magnus' voice boomed lowly through the hall and Caiden felt a chill race up his spine. There was no reason for that, he knew. His loyalties were unwavering.

"He'll try to save himself and his father by any means necessary," the younger cleric said after a thoughtful moment. "He's of more use to us if he trusts that we can do as we've implied."

"The Dark One has already gotten to him."

Pale eyes blinked, surprised. "Then we're too late."

"Not necessarily. Fear is a powerful encourager, and as you said, he fears for himself and for the carpenter."

"What do you plan, my lord?"

"I mean to use him. Rumplestiltskin is awake, and of that I have no doubt now. He may not directly double-cross the Dark One, but his strings may be twisted just so to lead him in the direction that we wish him to go."

"Forgive me, but I don't understand why we don't end this and go home. Rumplestiltskin and the Evil Queen -"

"Will tear each other apart eventually." Magnus' smile broadened and he laid a hand against the door that separated them from the twins and the puppet that they'd been given time with. "The game has only now begun, and in the end, his will be a death that suits all the pain he's caused."

TBC

Notes: Does anyone know the name of the nice restaurant that we saw in 4A? I put myself through that scene (I will not go on an anti-CS rant I will not go on an anti-CS rant, I will be positive about SwanFire and not rude about others ships. See? If I repeat it enough, I'll remember that.) and still am not sure of the name of the restaurant. I need it for a later chapter!

Any help would be appreciated :)

Next time - Bae and Rumple look for Emma's father, Emma invites a surprising guest to Christmas dinner, and Jefferson tries to make a deal with the Dark One.

Chapter Text

Notes: Early update this week! We have company coming into town so I thought I'd update today rather than risk not updating tomorrow. :D

11.

Gold had never really celebrated Christmas. There had never been a reason to. The pawnbroker had no family to speak of, no friends, and while he did shut the shop down for the day every year, he could usually be found following a tradition that he now knew dated back about seventeen years: curling up on the couch in front of the fireplace with a good book.

Because of this, he had never bothered with a Christmas tree or ornaments or anything of the sort. Emma, apparently, was of the opinion that that was unacceptable and immediately had set herself up with the task of turning Rumplestiltskin's home into a Christmas wonderland. He had agreed to it - he would agree to anything that made Bae as happy as watching the girl he loved go crazy with it all seemed to - but he was certainly happy that Gold had quite a bit saved back in the bank. The girl knew how to put a dent in it.

"She's never celebrated Christmas before," Bae explained as Rumplestiltskin eyed the greenery that wrapped all the way up his front staircase suspiciously. "She said she always wanted to, but the only home she was ever in that would have been the place to do it didn't work out well."

"I don't think they could have afforded it," Rumplestiltskin chuckled and waved his son's worried look off. "It's fine. Money is the one thing we don't have to worry about here. I made sure of that."

"You really don't mind?"

Dark eyes flickered over to meet a pair of the same shade. "Are you happy, Bae?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't mind. It'll be...interesting."

"I probably should warn you that Emma wants to cook. That's a really bad idea."

That pulled a chuckle from his father. "Well, being a bachelor for years on end does have its perks. I'm quite adept at cooking."

"Yeah, but you'll have to feed more than just one," Bae teased and his papa rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"I think I can handle three people, Baelfire."

The smile straightened out a bit and his son looked a little nervous, like he was about to make a request he knew Rumplestiltskin wouldn't like. "How about four?"

"And who is the mystery fourth person?"

"Emma wants to invite Regina."

Rumplestiltskin blinked. "Why on earth would she want to do that?"

Bae shrugged. "She thinks she's lonely or something. I don't know. Emma has a soft spot for people that don't have a family."

The shop owner hummed to himself as he looked over his decorated house. She was something, Snow White and Prince Charming's little girl. "Be careful, Bae," he warned lowly. "Regina won't be watching for her this early, but she's clever. No reason to make her look twice."

"I know, but Emma likes her. There's no stopping her when she's decided someone is worth trusting. No rhyme or reason to it from what I can tell, either."

The last was accompanied by a find smile and Rumplestiltskin found himself echoing it. "Alright. I take it she's already been invited?"

"Yeah."

He chuckled again, shaking his head. "Well, if you and Emma get things ready here, I'll go get the food."

"Papa..."

It had been two days since the attack at his shop, and he knew that was worry in his son's voice. He meant to tell him he'd be just fine, but instead he found himself saying, "I'd be happy with some company if Emma has things under control here and you don't mind stopping by another errand with me."

Bae grinned at him and Rumplestiltskin thought he might be dreaming. He certainly hadn't expected this, but that was okay. He was just fine with things going differently than expected as long as Bae was with him.

"So what errand do you need to run?"

Rumplestiltskin glanced past his son to where Emma was still putting the last touches on the tree. "Get your coat and I'll tell you on the way."

The younger man did as instructed and five minutes later they were in the cadillac and driving towards the center of town. He waited patiently enough, but Rumplestiltskin kept his silence until they were nearly there before he began to explain. He wasn't sure how much his son really wanted to know. "I've had a gentleman that works for me doing some digging," he said slowly, trying to gage the reaction. "I know where Emma's mother is in town, but I've yet to find her father."

Bae perked at this. "Do you think he wasn't pulled through?"

"He would have been. Of that I have no question. Gold kept absurdly good records in the shop, and that's what I was doing yesterday. I think I've found the name that belongs to him, but I've yet to find him where he should be."

"You don't think... Do people die here? With time being frozen and everything?"

"Not unless Regina specifically went after him, and she would have wanted him to live like his wife: in misery. No, he wouldn't have died here."

"What about before the curse? Wouldn't you have known?"

"I was rather... preoccupied," Rumplestiltskin said carefully. "No, I might not have known."

"But that's what you're worried about, isn't it?"

"I'd like to check the records at the hospital to make sure."

His son nodded wordlessly and Rumplestiltskin felt a tug of worry. "Bae, I will do my best to-"

"I know, Papa. It's not your fault."

That was debatable, but he didn't say as much. Instead he simply pulled up to the hospital and asked Bae if he preferred to stay or not.

"I should. I'm going to feel like I'm keeping things from her," he answered softly, though he looked like he wanted to go in.

His papa shrugged. "You also promised to take it slow and give her time to reason her way through all of this."

"True," Bae answered, and that was the only encouragement he needed to pile out after him.

It was interesting watching his father in this world. He was more comfortable than Neal might have thought he would be without magic. This curse he'd written had left him once again with a bad limp and likely a scar to go with it, but it had also put him in a place of power. Mr Gold seemed to have no problem bending people to his will and he did so with a grace and ease that the Dark One Baelfire had known never would have accomplished. The strange mix he'd seen when he first came across him in Storybrooke remained and held Neal's fascination.

The hospital was sparsely staffed for the holiday and Neal watched Rumplestiltskin speaking with the nurse at the front desk. He turned, feeling a bit more like a child tailing his father than he would have liked, and stuffed his hands in his coat pocket. It was a nicer jacket than he'd ever owned before and had been waiting for him on the cost wrack the day before. He'd tried to argue it, but his papa had shrugged and told him a Merry Christmas and that had been that. At least he was pretty sure that the deals his papa made in this world were a little less severe than the ones he made back home. He hoped so anyway.

A nurse slipped out of a door locked by a keypad and a terrible screech echoed up from the hallway beyond it before she could get it closed. She didn't seem at all phased and Neal glanced back to his father who was still looking over papers with another nurse.

"Are you looking for Dr Whale? I think he's already left for the evening," a rather sweet voice asked and he turned. He was met by a pair of green eyes and a kind smile. He recognized her from his stay in the hospital, and the look she was giving him said she likely remembered him as well.

"Actually, we were checking to see if someone might be in the hospital. Papa? What was the guy's name again?"

"Nolan," his father answered and turned, his lips twitching forward at the sight of the volunteer. "Miss Blanchard."

"I'm afraid that I don't know a Mr Nolan here." She turned her gaze on Rumplestiltskin and her expression was bright. "Mr Gold, you didn't say that he was your son!" Her smile said she already knew though. Neal had grown up in a small village, and much like a small town, news didn't take long to seep into every crevice.

"There are many things I don't say, Miss Blanchard. Likely because I am all too aware how quickly rumours spread through this town."

His cool tone had little effect on the chipper woman. Instead, she simply turned back to Neal and continued to beam. "It's so good that you could come in to see your father at Christmas."

Neal let a small smile touch his own lips even as his papa finished and motioned for him to follow. "About time, yeah," he said as he followed, leaving her behind. He waited a few steps before he leaned in. "Time isn't moving, so Emma's mom would still be pretty young, right?"

That brought a knowing smile that reached his father's eyes. He'd always been so proud each and every time his son proved to be clever. "She would indeed. How did you guess?"

"That it was her? They look a lot alike, but Emma does this really funny thing when she gets excited. She was doing it. It's this kind of bouncy look like they're so excited they might burst."

His papa snorted a laugh. "Yes, well, cursed or not Snow White has always been the excitable sort."

Neal shook his head. Emma was the daughter of Snow White. That might take a minute to get his mind around. "Did you find her dad?"

"There are no records of a David Nolan here, but there is a possible lead. We're about to find out."

They were approaching what looked like the coma ward and Neal wasn't sure why. He followed, though, and found his father looking over the sleeping faces. Finally, in a far room, his gaze paused when he found someone that he knew. His frown deepened and he stepped forward, dark eyes looking over the blond man who lay still as death. Neal cringed.

"It's really sad," Mary Margaret Blanchard said and Neal nearly jumped. His papa didn't even blink. "He's been a John Doe in here as long as anyone can remember. Do you know him, Mr Gold?"

"I'm afraid I don't, dear," Rumplestiltskin said in a soft tone. "Do you?"

"No," she said automatically, but there was a strange sort of loneliness in her eyes. "But sometimes I feel like I should. I suppose it's because he's been alone so long. I just wish I knew his story."

Rumplestiltskin made a small, noncommittal sound as he turned. "Come on, Bae," he said softly. "Best not to leave Emma to the kitchen from what you said."

It was meant to lighten the mood just a little and he did try for a smile, but Mary Margaret's tortured expression made it difficult, and Neal wondered just how many people had had to suffer for his papa to find him.

Regina had thought the Swan girl was leaving Storybrooke, so when she got the invite to Rumple's house of all places for a Christmas dinner she felt like she'd been tossed into some - rather strange and unnerving - alternate universe where nothing made any sense. Maybe she'd gone mad.

Neal answered the door when she knocked and he offered a half wave. "On the list of things you never thought you'd see?"

"Rumplestiltskin being domestic? Yes."

"He cooked," Neal said with a raised eyebrow and she couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

The mayor didn't bother to answer, but shoved a bottle of wine into her former mentor's son's hands. That had seemed like an appropriate present, even if she thought she might drink it all to get through this. She was trying to figure out what had possessed her to say yes.

"You showed!" Emma cheered as she came around the corner and Regina was more baffled than before. The young blonde offered her a grin. "I wanted to thank you for your advice the other day and this was really the only way I knew how."

Regina swiveled on Neal again. "She believed you?"

He shot her a smirk that was all his father's. "Worse. She loves me."

Emma hit him on the shoulder and grabbed the bottle of wine. Neal didn't stop grinning.

"I'm giving him time to prove whatever craziness he and his dad believe," Emma explained.

"What happened to fairytales not being real?" Regina asked carefully.

The blonde shrugged.

Neal snorted. "You can drop the act now, Regina." He leaned over to Emma and jabbed a finger in the Evil Queen's direction. "Ask her who she was back home."

To her credit, Emma didn't ask, but shot she a confused look and Regina leveled a glare at Neal that could have brought many of her subjects directly to their knees to beg for their lives. "You are so much like your father," she growled and stormed past him. "Rumple!"

She found the damn imp already chuckling at her from the kitchen. He stood as if he'd been expecting her, hands resting on his cane that was positioned directly in front of him. His lips were stretched wide and he quirked an eyebrow at her. "Don't forget to breathe, your majesty. Wouldn't want to have to call Dr Whale, would we?"

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"It does neither of us any good if-"

"Who is the girl going to tell? Better yet, who is going to believe her? She doesn't believe it herself quite yet. Set that on the table, won't you, Emma?"

"So what, you're going to play the doting father now?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "Why not? Have your petty revenge. I had bigger goals. We're both getting what we want and as soon as our pesky problem is dealt with we'll be able to enjoy them in safety."

She was fuming, but she had to admit he was right. She glanced back at the blonde that seemed to love Neal more than she distrusted him and her darkened, scarred heart clenched a little. Daniel. Daniel had loved her and he had trusted her. She knew what that sort of love looked like. Theirs was young and untested as of yet, but Regina could vaguely remember those days, and while she wanted to hate the teen for it, she almost felt sorry for her. Enough that she let out a huff of exasperation. "Not so easy to kill them in this world," she muttered.

"What?" Emma squeaked and Neal glossed over it with a nervous laugh.

"She's kidding. Right, Regina?"

The Evil Queen rolled her eyes. "Almost made an apple pie for you, Rumple, but I know how you won't eat them."

"Eating any fruit that comes from your tree, dear, is asking for trouble," he answered with his sly smile.

"Trouble like the kind that gives you a beating in the street?" Her voice was silky smooth, but she saw him flinch ever so slightly. She'd known, of course, but she hadn't heard quite how bad it had been. Thankfully it looked like he'd gotten away with only minor injuries, but it had been cut close from what Graham had told her. "Outside your own shop, nonetheless. You're getting sloppy, Rumple. I hope they didn't get anything important."

There was a flash in those dark eyes of his that were so very strange to look at. They held the same cleverness, but none of the madness. He chuckled rather than giggled and tilted his head as the smile returned and he hid behind his defences. "Everything turned out quite alright. Thank you for your concern, Madame Mayor."

Well, at least Magnus hadn't gotten the dagger. That would have been a mess, Land Without Magic or not. She had small items that still held magical properties and she wasn't sure if Rumple's dagger would have reacted as those had. It still could cut flesh rather nicely, and she'd much prefer him on her side rather than six feet under. He was useless to her dead.

"Are they getting any closer to finding the guys behind it?" Emma asked as she set a basket of rolls on the table. Well wasn't that quaint?

"We're getting there," Regina assured her after a moment. "It's a bit… tricky."

The blonde popped a piece of a roll in her mouth and asked around it with all sarcasm: "What? Does this have to do with the curse?"

"Partially," Rumple answered with surprising honesty. "Old enemies taking advantage."

"If I remember right," Emma said and looked back to Neal as if she were waiting for him to correct her, "your dad is a really powerful sorcerer, right?" She hardly sounded like she believed the words tumbling from her mouth, but she did seem to at least be trying to say it without laughing.

Neal nodded. "Yeah."

"So why can't you just blast him with some magic or something?"

"There's no magic here," Rumple answered sensibly.

"Convenient. How can a curse survive if there's no magic?"

"It uses its own, not any magic found here." The Dark One shrugged and opened the oven. "Every world is a little different. Bae came to this one because it had little to no magic in it. I followed knowing it would be the case. Everything has a price."

"I've heard you call him that a couple of times. Is it a nickname?" She turned a playful look on her boyfriend. "Or have you been giving me a false name all along?"

He looked a little sheepish. "Baelfire isn't exactly a popular name here."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, sounds like something out of Buffy or something." She rolled her eyes. "I know, I know. You've never seen it."

Neal grinned and kissed the side of her head.

Regina watched the oddity that was, apparently, Rumplestiltskin's family. Between a son that she hadn't known that he had and the girl that Neal had brought home like he was fool enough to believe that they could play at a normal family Christmas - as if three fourths of the room wasn't from another world entirely - things were bound to get crazier as time marched on. She'd seen the way Rumple reacted to his boy, and none of them could afford the Dark One going soft for any reason until Magnus was dealt with. Even so, she felt a small spark of jealousy work its way through her as father and son spoke over the dinner they all sat down to.

"Do you have any family, Regina?" Emma asked, not pulling her out of her bitter thoughts as much as she would have liked.

"My father passed just before we came here," she said vaguely, receiving strangely merciful silence from Rumple as hid his expression behind the tilted wine glass.

Emma made a face. "I'm sorry. Your mom not in the picture?"

"I was always much closer to my father," Regina admitted softly. So close that it had been his heart that she was required to use to cast the curse, but that wasn't something she bragged about. Granted, she never talked about her family at all, but Emma's questions didn't seem to hold any ulterior motive beyond curiosity. It had been a very long time since anyone had cared to ask.

"I always imagined I would have been kind of a daddy's girl too. If I'd known him, anyway," Emma said with a practiced shrug. "What was his name?"

"Henry."

"I like that name." Hazel eyes watched her and their owner smiled. It wasn't the smile of a teenage girl, but one of someone that understood loneliness on a very personal level. Someone that wanted a family badly enough that she might be willing to try to believe anything at this point. Regina should have hated her, but as the girl wished her a Merry Christmas and told her how glad she was that she'd come, Regina couldn't quite bring herself to.

He never would have predicted it going well, but Bae looked so happy that his papa couldn't be cross about the company. Emma, somehow, had managed to lighten even Regina's mood and it almost looked like the Evil Queen was warming to the young savior. Not that she knew who she was. When she found out, that would certainly be the end of any alliance that had been formed, and Rumplestiltskin knew it. Thankfully that would be a good ten years or so down the road and long after they'd finished with the whole Magnus mess. He had plenty of time to plan.

Dinner was finished and the dishes were in the sink by the time that Emma grabbed Bae and hauled him out into the freshly falling snow. Rumplestiltskin found himself smiling at the absurdity of it all and thinking, not for the first time in his long years, how funny fate could be.

"This is quaint, Rumple," Regina said from his side. He thought she might have been going for an insult, but her tone didn't quite reach it.

"Did you think that I was born the Dark One?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

That seemed to catch his former student off her guard. Perhaps she had. He wasn't certain how long the average Dark One managed to survive, but he worked under the impression from what he'd found that his three hundred years were somewhat rare. Granted, owning his own dagger was also rare, and that made all the difference in the worlds. Regina, like so many others, had never known of a different Dark One. The stories told to children of the Dark One in their day had all had Rumplestiltskin attached to them.

"He's from before then?"

"Yes," he answered immediately, but shot her a look that indicated that was all she would get on the subject. Thankfully she took it and turned her gaze out the window where Bae and Emma were pelting each other with snowballs.

Bae must have seen them looking because he tossed a snowball directly at the window and grinned as if daring his papa to come join. Rumplestiltskin chuckled and dried his hands off on a dish towel, grabbing his cane and limping towards the back door.

"He has you wrapped around his finger, doesn't he?" his former student asked quietly.

"Someday, Regina, you may have a child and you'll understand that there's nothing that you wouldn't do for them. No matter how trivial."

He opened the door only to close it immediately, the snow caked across the glass rather than his face. Regina barked out a laugh. "Except take a snowball to the face?"

"Well, a parent must know where to draw the line," he answered with a smile. He peeked back through the glass and Bae held his hands up to prove that he wasn't hiding one, but it wasn't until Emma too proved it that he opened the door up again. "I don't move as fast as you," he reminded his son who only grinned. He knew, and likely would take full advantage of the fact.

"Still not on the bandwagon yet," Emma warned, "but do you guys have Christmas in this place that you all seem to be from?"

Bae laughed and pulled her into a hug that she all but melted into. "Papa and I really didn't celebrate it much where we were, but I think there's a snow holiday in certain parts."

"It was everywhere," Regina answered a funny sort of tone, like she didn't know what Bae was referring to. She'd grown up in nobility and married a king. Regina may have had struggled during her life, but never like Rumplestiltskin and Bae had when Baelfire had been young. There had been one holiday that the poor spinner had managed to scrape together enough to get his son something, but it had taken all of his wiles to hide the coins from Milah so that she didn't drink them before he was able to purchase it. There had been a few gifts over the years, but only one that would have been something Emma would have understood as a Christmas gift.

"There was one year that the castle was decked out," Regina pointed out and Rumplestiltskin cringed.

"That wasn't my doing." It had been Belle's, and in a time when he wanted nothing more than to enjoy time with his son, thinking of the woman he could have - and did, if he were honest with himself - loved would only bring his failures into focus. He hadn't been able to save her. In a moment of fear he'd pushed her away and had inadvertently brought about her death.

"Was it that pretty little maid of yours that was there?" Regina asked as if she were thinking out loud.

"Yes," he bit out the response and his tone left no invitation to further the conversation.

Emma, apparently, was not so adept to reading tones. "Who was she? We could have invited her too if she's your friend."

"She's dead."

Bae cringed and took a step forward, his tone soft and careful. "Who was she, Papa?"

Rumplestiltskin turned, trying to take some of the bite out of his response for his son's sake and not quite managing it. "Knowing won't bring her back. Drop it." He limped back inside without another word and up the stairs. He'd managed to avoid lingering on her memory since he'd come back to himself, but now it threatened to overwhelm him. He didn't dare let anyone see him as he sank to the floor of his room. Anger people could see. A willingness to do whatever it took to protect what he cared about was often a good reminder to his enemies that they stood no chance against him. This, though - the utter despair that came with failure that could never be reversed - shouldn't be seen by anyone. That was his weakness. He would bear the burden of her death alone.

Regina left shortly after and Neal waited until Emma was safely in the shower to risk knocking of his papa's bedroom door. He'd just shut down. There hadn't been any attempt to change the subject or bury it under something else, but instead he'd turned and walked away. It worried his son, so after a moment of hesitation he knocked again as he pushed the door open.

Rumplestiltskin looked up from where he was sitting on an old fashioned love seat against the big, bay windows at the far end of the room. His cane was leaned up against it and he had a book in his lap, though he was not so engrossed that he didn't look up. His expression was carefully masked and his son inched forward.

He felt like he was teetering between Neal and Bae from moment to moment, but right then he felt more like Baelfire. His papa used to retreat into himself like this when he'd been young. The memories were vague, but if he tried he could recall them. Mom would drink and come home reeking of it only to scream and yell and wake him up in time to hear all the nasty things she had to say. Bae couldn't remember once where his papa had fought back, but instead just cringed away, the words slicing through easier than a knife would have. He had seen the way his eyes dulled a little more each time, even if he hadn't understood it then. He'd continued to watch his father handle things he didn't want to face in the same manner until the day he'd set fire to the duke's castle and had taken on the curse. It hurt to see him look so withered now, and Bae wondered who this nameless woman could be that caused such an extreme reaction.

"Hey," his papa greeted roughly.

"Hey. Regina let herself out and Emma's winding down from, and I quote, the best Christmas Eve ever."

A small smile tilted Rumplestiltskin's lips. "Good to know I didn't mess that up."

"'Course not," Bae said softly and motioned to the empty space next to him. His papa nodded and put the book away as the younger man took the seat. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really, no," he answered softly. "I just... She was someone that I cared for and I made a mistake. Imagine that." His dark eyes were focused on the book on his lap and his grip tightened around it. "It cost her her life."

"I'm sorry, Papa," Bae whispered. He wanted to assure him, to tell him it wasn't his fault, but he knew better. The curse he'd taken on had made him do terrible things, and it was very possible that if he'd begun to care for someone that it had managed to get in the middle of it. So he did the best he could and reached tentatively for his father's hand.

Rumplestiltskin took it and squeezed his fingers. "Thank you, Bae."

"I'm not going anywhere, Papa," he promised softly. "No matter what. I know... I know we're never going to be like we were when I was little, but we can be close again."

That pulled a small smile from his papa and he lifted Bae's knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss to them. "I love you, son. Always have. Always will. No matter what."

"Me too, Papa. No matter how pissed you make me sometimes."

Rumplestiltskin chuckled at that, but the sound of the doorbell downstairs interrupted the heartfelt conversation. "What did Regina forget?" he groused and stood.

Bae helped steady him and followed him down the stairs. It was dark outside and he's switched the porch light off when Regina had left, so they couldn't see the person on the steps well. Whoever it was was antsy, ringing it again even as Rumplestiltskin shouted shortly through the door. He looked ready to take someone's head off as he flung it open, but stopped, surprise written clearly across his features. "Jefferson?"

"Oh good," the man on the porch that was now brushing past him and into the house said. "You remember me. With all the little movements I thought you might. That makes this much easier." He turned to Bae and offered a quick nod of greeting before immediately turning back to a still-startled Rumplestiltskin. "I want to make a deal with you."

"I'm not sure exactly-"

"Let me be more clear about this," the strange man cut him off. "Rumplestiltskin, I'd like to make a deal. I'll make it worth your time. You know I'll make good on that."

Bae's papa blinked and steadied himself. "You remember."

"I do. Grace doesn't."

"Tragic, but hardly a reason to barge into my home on Christmas Eve."

"I'm tired of waiting. I'd bet anything that you wrote this curse, so you can give her back to me. That bitch stole my little girl from me and she doesn't have a clue who I am."

"You want me to return Grace's memories?" Rumplestiltskin asked, his head half tilted to the side as he studied the strange man. "That's quite a tall order."

Bae tried to school his expression from his place. He'd already said it was impossible for him to return someone's memories, but he hadn't told this man - a man that so obviously knew who he was - that yet.

"You know I'll pay the price," the man that Bae's papa had called Jefferson said. "We've worked together long enough that you know that."

"I can't imagine what you would have that I could-"

"Belle. I can get you Belle."

TBC

Notes: Well, a bunch of you have been asking about Belle. Surely you didn't think I was going to go completely without mentioning her? :D

So, I had never heard of the Espenson Awards until just a few days ago. Apparently it's a collection of fics that people have nominated for this award and it takes 5 nominations for them to get added to a category. If nothing else, it's likely to be some fun reading. Monday 1/25 is the last day to nominate, so if you're on Tumblr and want to nominate any writers/stories, now is the time to do it! You can find it over at .com

Next time - Hoping against hope, Rumplestiltskin takes Jefferson up on his deal.

Chapter Text

12.

Rumplestiltskin felt his world rock dangerously beneath him. Bae stepped closer, as if ready to catch him if he fell, but he managed to stay on his feet somehow. "Tread carefully, Jefferson," he growled lowly. "Desperation for a child makes a father do things we might not ordinarily do, but don't think for an instant you can fool me."

"I don't want to fool you," Jefferson said quickly. "I want to help you so that you'll help me. It's no different than back home."

"Belle is dead." His voice was low, but the threat couldn't be missed. He'd always liked Jefferson, and he hoped to everything that the man didn't make him kill him, but he was treading a dangerous line right then and there. He was desperate, and desperation made even clever people do stupid things. Things like taunting the Dark One with his lost love.

The hatter nearly back peddled out of the house in haste. "No she's not. Not unless she's killed her in the last few days."

"She? Who's she?"

"The queen."

A surprising defense for his former student bubbled up in him, but Rumplestiltskin cut it off before it could escape. She had been the one to deliver the news of Belle's death. She had been the one to tell him. He'd been too heartbroken to follow up on what she'd said, but had thrown himself into the curse preparations and had left no room for anything other than the thought of his son in his mind.

"Show me."

"If I deliver, can you restore Grace's memories?"

"Yes yes," he said automatically, and he would find a way. He'd make Regina do it. If this were true, if he found out that she was responsible for this, he'd need something from her to remind him not to kill her in his blinding rage. Until then, he simply needed to act cautiously.

"Papa?" Bae said carefully from his side.

"I'll be back in a bit," he started, but his son caught hold of his arm and worry shone in his eyes. Rumplestiltskin pursed his lips together and glanced back at Jefferson. "A moment?"

The portal jumper nodded and he stepped to the side with his son. "Bae-"

"I get this is important, Papa. Is this her?"

"It's a trick."

"How do you know? Did you see her die?"

"No, but I'm not sure I can take the hope," he whispered in a moment of naked honesty.

"And that's why I'm going with you. You care about her. You're not thinking straight. Someone needs to watch your back."

Rumplestiltskin found himself staring at his son. That wasn't how this was supposed to work. He was suppose to protect Bae. But there was his boy, all grown up and still so much braver than his papa could ever hope to be. "Alright," he managed.

"Where are we going?"

All three men turned to see Emma toweling off her long blonde hair. She shot them a look that very clearly said she expected an answer and Rumplestiltskin sighed and shrugged a little. Bae followed suit. "Grab a jacket and a scarf if you want to come. I'm going to go make sure Papa doesn't do something stupid."

Neal's rundown of what was going on wasn't very helpful. He had followed Emma upstairs to explain after pulling a rather reluctant promise from his dad that he wouldn't leave without him. The guy downstairs was named Jefferson. No, Neal had never met him before, but his dad seemed to know him. He'd shown up on the doorstep saying something about a daughter and memories and it all seemed to have to do with the curse - the curse that Emma most certainly did not believe in, but hey, she let Neal go on with his explanation anyway as she hopped a little into her jeans - and that he knew where Gold's lost love was. That had been where Emma had told him to stop and rewind, even more disappointed that that was about where his information stopped as well.

"Sorry," he muttered as he tied a scarf around his neck and shoved his foot into his right sneaker, "Papa didn't want to talk about it."

"But this is the lady that he thought was dead? Don't you people have - I don't know? - death certificates or something like that where you're from?"

Her boyfriend snorted. "No, and I kind of get the impression that Papa's life got weirder after I left than it was even before. If this is her, I'm sure we'll get the story eventually."

Emma pursed her lips together and grabbed her jacket from the bed. "So, how likely is this that it's that Magnus guy setting him up and using this against him?"

"Got to admit that was my first thought. He said this guy is good at corrupting people. Just because he knows Jefferson doesn't mean that he knows what side he's on. It's been nearly twenty years since the curse was cast, I guess."

"Yeah? It's older than me. I guess that makes sense if he cast it to find you." She grinned as she started for the door. "Old man."

Neal gave her a slightly exasperated look, but didn't bother with whatever was knocking around his head. He grabbed his coat off the wrack and tossed her the skullcap she'd left there. His dad was standing by the front door with the visitor, looking highly impatient. He was ready with his gloves and his jacket, though Emma was about certain that he was always ready for something. She hadn't been there long, but she was yet to see the man walk around in anything less than slacks and a button up, and even then it had been tucked in and he looked like he was just missing another layer or two of protection that must have been the norm.

"Emma, Jefferson," the quick introductions were made, but only by Neal. Gold was stony silent and fixed on whatever they were about to encounter.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to go?" she whispered when she and Neal slipped into the backseat.

"I'm watching his back. I need someone to watch mine."

Well that seemed fair enough.

"Where are we going, Jefferson?" Gold as curtly, and for the first time since she'd met him, Emma thought she could see how this small man might be dangerous. Not physically, she didn't think, but he certainly had the power backing his voice of someone that knew they could wreak havoc on someone's life if they wanted to.

"The hospital."

Neal's dad snorted from the driver's seat. "Funny thing is that I've recently been through quite a few hours reading through the records at the hospital recently. She's not there."

"She's not recorded," Jefferson answered. "Why would the queen leave a trail?"

"The queen?" Emma echoed and Jefferson turned wild blue eyes on her.

"Who are you anyway?"

The blonde scrunched her nose up and glared. "Who are you?"

That pulled a very small smirk from him. "The Hatter."

"What? Like Alice in Wonderland?"

Jefferson tensed in his place and gave a slight shudder. Emma looked to Neal who shrugged in return. If either of them were waiting for an explanation, it didn't sound like it was coming soon. Instead Gold put the cadillac into gear and started backing out of the long, slippery driveway.

Not for the first time, Emma wondered if Neal's family - or his dad and everyone that his dad surrounded himself with - were nuts. He'd run for some reason before, but in the same way something had brought him back.

A hand reached over, taking hers, and she blinked at him. "You okay?" he mouthed and she nodded. She'd made her decision.

He shouldn't give into the possibility of this being real. He knew that. He was only going so that he could know for certain if Jefferson was working against him. They had too much of a history - the Hatter was one of the few people that blurred the lines of those that Rumplestiltskin worked with and someone that might have been something of a friend to the Dark One - to simply assume that Magnus had gotten ahold of him. It was possible. He did have Grace, and Grace was a weak point. That might be the one reason that he could find to forgive the portal jumper, if the cleric were threatening his daughter to use him.

Rumplestiltskin kept his expression unreadable, a talent that Gold had gotten down to an art. In the Enchanted Forest he'd hidden behind flamboyant gestures and high-pitched giggles. Here that wouldn't have gotten his alternate persona anywhere. Here he had a much quieter type of power, and that worked well for him. It was a power he'd turn against even his old friend if he had chosen to betray him - using his love for someone as pure as Belle was - for any reason with the exception of the man's child.

"Where?" he asked as he pulled the car up in front of the hospital.

"Not here. Around back. We don't want anyone to see us."

"Because that's not sketchy at all," Emma grumbled from the backseat, and Rumplestiltskin couldn't find it in him to disagree. He could feel Bae's eyes on him from behind and could almost hear the worry in the gaze. This was a trap. They both thought it was, but in the same way he couldn't have just left it without seeing it for himself. He should have, in hindsight, left Bae and Emma, though. He was kicking himself for bringing them along now.

Jefferson snorted. "Did you think this would be easy? The queen has her minions all through here. Even you have to play it careful if we're going to get her out." The last bit was directed at Rumplestiltskin and he frowned, pulling the car around.

"The threats aren't needed, are they?"

"I know how this works," the hatter answered slowly. He tried for a smile, hand on the door and he opened it once they were fully stopped. "You may look like a man here, but that's just another one of her tricks."

"Papa?"

"Stay in the car," he said as he began to follow. "Move around to the front. If anything happens, go. Don't worry about me. You and Emma get out."

Emma leaned up and almost over the seat. "I know I'm new here and all, but can I just say that this is really stupid?" The girl's voice quaked a bit under what sounded like it was meant to be a nonchalant sort of tone, and Rumplestiltskin thought she sounded almost worried for his safety. Maybe, if she were smart, she was worried for hers and Bae's.

"You're not going in there alone," Bae said firmly, climbing out of the car.

"Bae, please, son-"

"No." He pulled himself up to his full height and for the first time Rumplestiltskin noticed that his boy had outgrown him by an inch or two. It wasn't much, but he squared his shoulders and tilted his chin, spine straight and his expression was so very, very determined. "I came with you to help you." He reached forward and grabbed his hand. "I'm not leaving you to whatever is in there."

Rumplestiltskin's free hand came up to his son's face in a gesture of affection he'd used when he had been a boy. He took a steadying breath as his lips thinned out and Bae leaned in, hand in his and their foreheads bumped together. A sigh escaped him. "I'm not a little boy anymore. I know you want to protect me, Papa, but I want to protect you too."

The elder man felt the breath leave his lungs and he swallowed hard. "I'm afraid it might take some time for me to remember that, Bae. I missed so much."

"No more," Bae said firmly. "If this is a trap, I want to be there for you. Neither of us are missing anything more."

How could he argue that? He squeezed his son's hand and offered a strained smile. "Alright."

"Alright?"

"Don't make me question it," Rumplestiltskin huffed and his son smiled at him. It was a light in his dark life. It was different than the one Belle had cast for such a short time, but no less as bright. There was nothing quite like a child's love.

"We need to hurry," Jefferson pressed. "There won't be as many people here because it's Christmas Eve, so it may be our one chance."

Rumplestiltskin nodded and he followed the man that he'd made countless deals with before. He tried to place his cane down as softly as he could on the hard floors and he could feel Bae hovering just over his left shoulder as they walked.

At first he thought Jefferson was leading them to the main desk, as if he was going to show him paperwork and call that proof. He was just shy of arguing with him when he passed it completely and went to a keypad on the wall. He paused, eyeing him carefully, as the hatter looked closely at it, turned to look down either end of the hall, and then pulled a piece of paper from his coat and punched in numbers. The keypad sounded the alert that it accepted the code and the door with exit written across it buzzed open. Jefferson turned back and motioned for them to follow.

Bae and Emma exchanged looks and she watched the halls. "Do you need a lookout?"

Jefferson seemed to consider this for a moment. "If you're caught up here, we can't help you."

He wasn't wrong. Rumplestiltskin frowned. "You'll simply look out of place standing up here."

She shrugged and Jefferson walked through the open door, holding it open for the others to follow. They descended the stairs into what could have easily been something out of an old horror movie - something that Gold had logged back in his memories but Rumplestiltskin was fairly certain that he hadn't actually watched - and one light was even starting to flicker a little. They hit the bottom and there was a nurse sitting at the desk, head tilted a bit and she shot them a questioning look. "You shouldn't be down here," she said sternly.

"That's nice," Jefferson said, entirely unworried by the way she stood up. "Come with us please? Don't forget the keys."

"You can't just-"

"Ms. Fletcher?" Rumplestiltskin asked, pulling the name from his long list of tenants he kept mentally stored away. "I believe you rent the unit just below Ms. Blanchard in my apartments, don't you?"

She froze, eyes focused in on him. "I do," she said slowly.

"Oh good. Glad you recognize me. If you don't mind helping us with just a quick visit, I'm sure we can work something out."

"I'm sorry… but are you trying to bribe me, sir?"

"Oh no. I apologize," Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "I'm threatening you. See, I'm not unaware of your elderly mother that you haven't ever bothered to put on the lease, though I do get quite a few complaints of the smoke that she produces that bleeds through the walls."

"I see," the nurse said, going a little pale at the insinuation. "Who were you hoping to see, Mr Gold?"

"Miss French, if you would," Jefferson said, motioning and the nurse nodded and grabbed the keys.

"Well you're kind of a bastard when you want to be, aren't you?" Emma muttered very lowly as they followed behind the nurse.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "A contract is a contract, Miss Swan. I suggest you learn that at an early age."

They followed behind Nurse Fletcher and she wound around the lower halls that, if he'd been forced to be honest, Rumplestiltskin didn't even know existed. He wondered what other little nooks and crannies Regina had hidden away under the town his curse had created for her.

The nurse was nervous, that much was obvious, and she stopped next to a door and motioned to it. "You can speak through that window there…. if you know Miss French."

"Take a look,"Jefferson prompted.

Bae squeezed his shoulder and Rumplestiltskin knew his son's encouragement for what it was. He would have to have his back to the others to look in, but Baelfire would watch it for him. He leaned in, finger slowly reaching through the hole to pry the little window open. It let out a terrible squeaking sound that almost made the shop owner cringe, but he pulled it all the way up anyway and peered inside.

The room was mostly dark with only white, padded walls and a single bed from what he could see. Though on that bed sat a figure and he felt his breath catch. She looked up at the sound, those clear and blue eyes wide. She blinked at him and even in her rags, her hair tangled and unwashed, Belle was beautiful.

"The mayor is her contact. No one else would claim her," Nurse Fletcher said in a stuttering voice. "She'll want to know someone came to see her."

"Yes," Rumplestiltskin answered in a low, dangerous voice. "Call the mayor. Call her right now." He heard her start back down the hall and he reached his hand out, palm open. "Leave the keys and don't tell her who came in."

She didn't argue and they landed in his waiting grasp.

"That's her, right?" Jefferson asked tightly, as if he'd feared that it wasn't. He'd barely seen her when she worked for him, afterall. It was likely he was only mostly sure and banking on that hope.

"Yes."

"Then our deal stands."

"I'll have you out in a moment," he promised Belle and shut the window even as she unfolded herself from her place on the bed. He turned his dark gaze on Jefferson and saw the hope in his eyes that could only belong to a father. "I can't return her memories to her."

"Rumple, you said-"

Rumplestiltskin lifted a hand to him. "When have I ever broken my word to you?"

"Never."

A ghost of a smile tilted his lips. "This won't be the first. Regina can return her memories. I'll make sure it's done."

A breath escaped the younger man and he looked like he might wrap his arms around the Dark One in relief. "Thank you," he gasped with none of his usual suave.

"Papa, it's her?" Bae whispered, almost as if he were afraid to believe it as well.

"I'd know her anywhere," his papa answered, fiddling with the keys to find the one with her cell number on it. "I suppose there's a story to tell you, isn't there?"

"I don't have a stepmom that I don't know about, do I?"

The question had been an attempt at a tease and his lips twitched. "No," he said softly and fit the key into place. The lock was heavy and it turned, swinging the door open. Belle was standing halfway to it, looking as if she were both confused and afraid. The expression was so foreign to her face that for a moment, Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure what to make of it. "Belle?"

She blinked, taking a hesitant step forward. "Do I… know you?" she managed.

Dread set deeply inside of him and he felt slightly nauseous. "Do you not?"

Belle shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't…. I don't know you. I don't think I do."

She was under the curse, he realized all at once. Just like Jefferson's little girl. Just like he had been. That could be fixed. When he was done with Regina, she'd be begging to fix it. He tried for a smile for now and reached a hand out to her. "What's your name, dear?"

"I don't know." She was getting worked up now that the questions were posed and a fear shone in her eyes as her hands went to the side of her head and she buried her fingers in her thick locks. "I don't know. There's only the emptiness of what they don't tell me. There's nothing before that. I don't know!"

Rumplestiltskin stepped immediately forward, his tone gentle as he reached out to her. "It's okay. Don't worry. It's okay."

She looked like she might hyperventilate with the way she was dragging terrified breaths into her lungs and forcing them back out, but as soon as he reached a hand out to her she dove for it, clinging to him like he might save her life. She dug her nails into the palm of his hand when she grabbed it and her other arm went around his neck in a hug that seemed to try to cut off his own air supply.

He shifted his weight a little to the left and wrapped his right arm around her as well, hoping against hope that she wouldn't knock him off balance lest they both go tumbling to the ground. "Shh," he hushed her and she cried into his chest. "It's alright. No one's going to hurt you now."

"She comes and I don't know her," Belle said softly. "I should. I feel like I should." She turned her tear-filled blue eyes up to him. "Do you know me?"

"I did once," he said quietly.

"What's my name? They won't tell me my name."

"Belle. Your name is Belle."

She quieted a bit at this and no one around them said a word. He let her cling to him and revelled in the fact that even though she didn't remember him - even though she didn't remember herself - Belle was alive. He loosed a trembling breath and kissed the top of her head, her hair tickling his nose.

"Who are you?"

"Gold," he lied to her when the truth failed him. "My name is Mr Gold."

"I'm sorry. I don't remember you."

He found himself chuckling softly. "That's alright, my dear. Apparently you don't remember you, and in the grand scheme of things, that's a bit more important right now."

Belle gave a short, snorting sort of laugh with him and looked around. "Do I get to leave here? Who are these people?"

Rumplestiltskin followed her gaze and his son's eyes were trained on him, his expression worried. He tried to give him a reassuring smile. He could fix this. Death was beyond even him, but a few lost memories he could at least bully Regina into mending.

Speak of the devil and she appeared.

"I told you not to let anyone down here!" the mayor of Storybrooke raged from somewhere down the hall. "And you don't-"

Belle clung hard to him again and gave a soft whimper. He had to pull himself away, though, and lean against his cane. "Stay behind me," he whispered. "I'll protect you." This time, he swore to himself, he would make good on that promise.

Regina stood in the entrance of the hallway with eyes wide. Everyone had seen her and she knew as well as Rumplestiltskin did that, in the end, there was nowhere to run. So she did what she always did and shoved her fear down beneath her layers of pride, tilted her chin up, and approached the situation as a queen would. "Rumple."

"Regina," he greeted back. "Because we have a truce between us currently, I'll give you a chance to explain."

"I could have killed her, you know," the Evil Queen said as if that might save her, "but I didn't."

"No," he answered dangerously and motioned to Bae to step closer to Belle to make sure she felt safe, "you did much worse. You kept her alive so you could kill her when convenient."

It must have been a strange sight to have a woman in perfect health frozen in fear of a cripple slowly making his way towards her, but Regina didn't move, and, to her credit, gave no further argument. She had always been clever. He'd always appreciated that. "She doesn't remember you, does she? I can return her memories."

The words were quick, but there was no mistaking them. Rumplestiltskin smiled a predator's smile. "Yes, I imagine you can."

"Gold," Emma said quietly from behind and took a step forward. Bae caught her, though, and Rumplestiltskin was fairly certain he heard his son whisper for her to stop. The girl had a spine, he'd give her that. He would remember to be impressed later when she wasn't likely to hop in the middle of the brewing battle.

"I take it you want to live?" Rumplestiltskin asked as if he were making an inquiry about the menu at Granny's.

"Of course I do."

Every instinct screamed to make a deal for Belle's memories then and there, but Rumplestiltskin was a man of his word, and he'd promised Jefferson something already. "You're immediate welfare in exchange for Jefferson's daughter's memories of him."

Regina blinked, as if the demand confused her, but she didn't waste a great deal of time worrying on it. "It will take a bit of time, but it can be done. What about my…. continual welfare?"

"Belle's memories."

She nodded. "The same will go for that. I assume you would like the girl's first, since you asked for it first?"

"There was no asking there, dearie," he snarled and she flinched. Good. She knew her place. That meant that she knew what was at stake here. She knew what she'd done.

"Our truce-"

"Will remain intact as long as you live up to your end of the bargain."

"I will."

"One week for both?"

She looked nervous at a number being put on it, but nodded. "As it stands, that should be enough time. I'll let you know if anything changes."

He pulled in a breath, trying to steady himself and shove down the demands in his mind for her rather bloody and painful death. His curse didn't reach through this Land Without Magic often, but when it did, it brought out the worst in him. "Very well."

It was as if he'd had ahold of her throat and released her. Regina sagged a little and leaned against the wall. The nurse was long gone by this point. "Rumple-"

"Unless it is of immediate importance, I suggest it wait until I don't wish to paint the streets with your blood, your majesty," he growled dangerously.

She nodded, wisely keeping her mouth shut and after a moment of silence between them she was gone. He watched her go, her footsteps echoing down the hall and he felt the murderous rage dissipate just a little as he turned towards Belle. The poor girl looked terrified, unsure of who was the hero and who was the villain in the little scene, but he could hardly blame her. She had the lesser of two evils - and possibly only when it came to her - to choose from between he and Regina and for someone who didn't understand their combined pasts, that must have looked very strange indeed.

Bae was standing rather close to her, watching his papa carefully as he brought himself down from the bloodlust. Slowly the world came appropriately back into focus and he loosed a breath.

"Rumple?" Belle asked, as if tasting the name. "Is that what they call you?"

"It is. Some do, anyway."

She pulled herself away from Baelfire, clear blue eyes fixed on Rumplestiltskin in a way that made his breath catch dangerously. She reached forward, her thin fingers touching his face and he leaned into them. He'd missed her touch and Belle's fingers were warm against his skin. "I know you," she whispered. "Don't I?"

"Once," he repeated again.

"You can help me remember who I am?"

"I believe I can. It'll take some time, but not too much. How about we get you out of those rags and into something a bit better?" He shrugged his own overcoat off so that he was left only in the jacket he'd been wearing beneath and the button up shirt beneath that. It was freezing outside and she was wearing what looked like a long nightgown and a pair of stockings. She didn't shy away when he fit the overcoat across her thin shoulders and buttoned it up for her gently, but instead continued to watch him like she wanted very desperately to remember his face, but the memory kept slipping away.

Rumplestiltskin turned back to Jefferson. "Regina will contact me as soon as that's ready."

"Thank you."

He pulled in a trembling breath, risking a glance back to Belle just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "No, I should be thanking you."

Jefferson declined a ride back to his own home, but he'd always been a man willing and able to make his own way. Belle sat quietly in the front, watching the street fly by as they drove, and she never said a word about it. Rumplestiltskin had no way to know what was going on inside her mind, but he was just grateful that she seemed to be a little less panicked than when they found her. If her memories were all that was damaged, that could be easily fixed. He could handle that. He just hoped that whatever revenge Regina had been using her for against him was well and truly put away and that they'd find no further surprises down the road from it.

"Papa?"

He perked, realizing that he'd pulled into the driveway on auto-pilot and that Emma was helping Belle out of the car now and Bae stood at his own door. "Lost in thought," he murmured.

"Once we get her settled, I think it's time for the full story."

Rumplestiltskin pulled himself out of the car, his ankle aching terribly with the cold as he stepped onto the driveway. "Yes," he said slowly, watching Belle look up at the house in amazement. It wasn't a castle, but this could be her home if she'd let it. He looked back to his son who was watching his expression very carefully. "Yes, I do believe you deserve that."

A small smile made its way to Bae's lips and he flung an arm around his father's shoulders. He didn't say anything as they walked inside and out of the cold. There'd be enough time for that and it was looking to be a very long night.

TBC

Notes: So, the history fangirl in me really hopes that a bunch of Oncers watched the Sons of Liberty that was on this past week for Michael Raymond-James, if nothing else. It was littered with historical inaccuracies, but they fessed up to that beforehand so it's not as bad. My roommate and I are slowly making our way through the recorded last episode and even though we knew what was coming at the end of that first hour... Ugh. So much wailing. Joseph Warren is one of my heroes. Kind of a historical fangirl of his.

Ahem. Anyway. If you have not watched it, go check it out on the history channel's website. They have the episodes there to stream. Michael Raymond-James plays Paul Revere. My roommate has taken to calling him Neal Revere :D

Also, I have been nominated for Best Fic over on the Espenson Awards on Tumblr for Courage of the Stars! Very excited! Thank you to anyone who nominated me :D

Next time - Belle struggles to understand the strange world around her without her memories.

Chapter Text

13.

She'd been fairly certain that Neal's dad was going to kill Regina. Emma wasn't quite sure how long they'd been downstairs in the crazy bin, but while they'd been there it had felt like an eternity. She didn't know the whole story and she was doing her damnedest not to jump to any conclusions, but doctors didn't lock people up without a reason. She didn't think they did, anyway. The only thing she was certain of was that the longer they were in Storybrooke the weirder it got.

Gold had gone upstairs to see if he could find her something to wear. Why he had women's clothing in his bachelor's home, Emma couldn't be sure, but Neal had followed and left her with the lady that was apparently named Belle. She stood, looking very small in Gold's overcoat, with her fingers peeking out to pull it in closer. She didn't seem crazy. At least Emma didn't think so, but her radar for that sort of thing seemed to be off lately. She made a note to drop by Regina's office after Christmas and get her side of the story too. There was something about the woman that she liked, and she didn't want to write her off like she had Ingrid. The longer she stayed in Crazibrooke, the less insane Inglid seemed these days and she'd promised herself she wouldn't run from this. Granted, that was a promise that seemed a little more poorly thought out with each passing day.

"So," the blonde said carefully, filling the awkward silence, "you really don't remember anything? Total amnesia or something?"

Belle blinked at her. "It's all a little hazy," she said quietly, and Emma was having a hard time placing her accent. "It's like there are too many memories swirling around and I can't see them all. I think I know things, but not why I know them."

"Like what things? What memories?" Maybe this was her chance to get someone outside of Neal's family to either confirm or prove wrong what they'd been telling her.

The blue eyed woman shrugged. "It sounds kind of silly."

Emma smirked. "You're in the right town then. This place seems to be made of silly."

"A castle," Belle said quietly, a distant expression taking over. "With stairs that snapped at people. Crazy, isn't it?"

"The mind does weird things," Emma murmured. Well, at least she wasn't panicking anymore. That was something, at least.

"What kind of weird things?" Neal asked as he and his father came down the stairs. He had a box in his hands with a few clothes sticking out and he set it down on a hall table.

"I'm afraid I don't have a great deal to choose from," Gold said softly, all the anger from earlier having washed away as if it hadn't been there to begin with. "These are things that have been in the attic for…. Well they've been up there for years. I suppose I've just never gotten around to putting them out in the shop."

"You work at a shop?" Belle asked quietly.

"I own it, yes. Half of the clutter you see around here is meant to go to it at some point or another. First chance we get we'll get you some better clothes more suited to what you want."

Belle's brows knit and she took a step towards him. "Why? I'm... I'm sorry I don't remember you. We're we close?"

Emma watched Gold duck his head a little and she had to strain to hear his answer. "You changed my life."

Belle had come to work for him because of a deal, but she'd been clever and stubborn, his papa had explained. He'd looked like he didn't want to tell him everything, and he'd certainly glossed over the story in favour of getting the box of clothes down to her. They'd had an argument and he'd kicked her out. That had been that. He'd never seen her again and he hadn't questioned it when Regina told him that she'd died. He'd just sunk into his guilt and put himself back on the path of finding his son. There was more, Bae knew, but he wasn't getting it that night. He'd have to wear his papa down for the rest. It would come. They'd both agreed that Bae needed to hear it, but it didn't all have to be right then, no matter how much the younger man would have prefered it to be.

"You okay?" he asked Emma once they got back to the room.

"Just thinking. Are you sure we did the right thing? Maybe she was down there for a reason."

Bae pursed his lips together thoughtfully. "I don't think they were helping her there."

"Yeah, but what can we do for her?"

"Regina can give her her memories back-"

Emma huffed. "C'mon, it's not funny anymore. This lady may really need help."

Dark eyes blinked. Of course it wasn't funny. Belle couldn't even remember her own name and, even though he tried to hide it, Bae knew his papa was torn up about it. That much he could read between the vague story that he hadn't wanted to tell to begin with. Emma, though, was referring to the fact that she didn't believe in the curse or the Enchanted Forest or pretty much anything that Bae had been telling her. If he'd been in her shoes, he guessed he might have felt the same way. He wasn't. He knew where was happening and - heaven help him - he trusted his papa in what he wasn't able to understand.

"She knows Papa, she just-"

"Is what, Neal? Under a curse? She's an escapee from the loony bin! She was talking about biting staircases! Forgive me if I'm a little freaked out."

He grimaced and he knew how it sounded. He'd ask his father in the morning if the biting staircases, specifically, meant anything, but even if they didn't, it wouldn't matter. Regina could return her memories and Emma would have to believe them then, as long as she would stay long enough to let it be proven to her.

Neal pulled in a deep breath and reached out, his hands catching hers. "Hey?"

"What?" the blonde answered sulkily and he tried not to smile. This wasn't funny. This was serious.

"You love me, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you trust me?"

There was a pause then and her lips thinned out as she stared at him, almost as if she was trying to decide what angle he was working. He waited, willing himself to be patient with her as she wrestled with herself, until finally she squeezed his fingers. "Yeah."

He let himself smile just a little. "Then trust me until the end of the week. Until the new year. If I haven't given you proof by then… I guess we were both fooled, then." He hated to say it, but he needed her to trust him. If she didn't, Emma would run and he'd likely lose everyone if he tried to chase her. For the first time in so many, many years, there weren't any ties he was willing to cut to run.

Everything seemed like it should be familiar but didn't quite add up. Even the name that they'd told her she should go by felt both like a lie and a truth all at once, swirling around together until it left her dazed and confused. She supposed that she should trust them though. They had rescued her - she thought they had, anyway, as she'd always felt more like a prisoner than a patient - and she didn't think they had any reason to lie to her.

Belle - the more she thought about it, the more she thought the name seemed right, but she couldn't be sure - sat alone in the room that they'd told her she could sleep in. Mr Gold - Rumple? - had seemed awkward and unsure of how to approach her, and she wondered if that was just his nature or if something had happened between them. They were an odd little group of people here, but at least the dark haired woman hadn't come with them. Belle was certain she shouldn't trust her, and that feeling had stuck with her for however long she'd been stuck in that room.

She chewed her lip and stared at the door. Emma had a pair of sleeping pants that she'd let her borrow and Mr Gold had given her a button down shirt, apologizing that he didn't have something more suitable for her before he'd managed to scurry out. The robe that was around her shoulders was a little big - also his - and when she tugged it closer something that might have been a memory danced just outside of her reach. She pulled in a deep breath, inhaling the scent, and closed her eyes. The focus simply wasn't there, but flashes caught her attention and she couldn't help but feel a little safer wrapped up in it. Safer than she had for as long as she could remember, anyway.

Thin fingers fumbled with the tie around her waist and she pulled it closed around her as she stood and started for the door. She'd waited long enough for answers, she decided, and was tired of waiting. Emma certainly didn't seem to have any and she'd barely spoken to the other young man - the one that seemed to go by a different name depending on who was referring to him - so Mr Gold seemed like the best option. Belle thought she could trust her instincts, even if not her obviously faulty memories. Afterall, stairs didn't try to take a bite out of someone passing by, did they? Of course they didn't..

She slipped out into the hallway, blinking against the shadows. No one moved, and while she could hear voices coming from behind a closed door down the hall, they didn't seem to notice that she was out. Her feet were nearly silent against the wood of the floor and she felt a little like a ghost in this strange house, moving so very quietly amongst the old knick knacks and restored furniture.

The door next to the stairs was cracked open and light escaped from under it. Belle looked at it, trying to remember what normal people did. She couldn't be quite sure. Like everything else, it seemed social norms were lost in the haze that told her that there was something she should do, but not what that was. Finally she simply pressed her palms against the wood of the door and pushed it open. "Mr Gold?" she called out softly and took a step into the room.

It was huge, the door in the middle and it went about as far to the left as it did to the right, decorated - as the rest of the house was - in antique furniture that seemed to suit the man that she was quite certain acted as if he'd been picked up from one time and placed here. The curtains were drawn at the windows and the sheets were turned back in the bed that sat next to another door where steam and light poured out of and she waited, unsure of what to do. Perhaps she shouldn't have just walked into his room. That seemed rude, now that she thought about it, especially if she didn't know how she knew this man.

"Belle?"

His voice startled her out of her thoughts and she blinked owlishly at him. Mr Gold stood frozen in the doorframe, right hand gripping his cane and a towel around his waist. His face was flushed red and she wasn't sure if it was from the heat that reached out from the room - the bathroom, part of her mind supplied, though how she knew that she wasn't sure - and his hair slicked back and wet. His posture was stiff and uncomfortable as her eyes moved over him, from those dark brown eyes that were warmer than he seemed to want the world to know and down to his badly scarred right ankle. He wore bruises all over, like he'd been in a scuffle a few days prior, and likely on the losing end of it. She swallowed hard when she realized she was staring, quite certain now that she had crossed a social boundary that she really should have known better than to cross. "I'm sorry, I-"

"It's alright," he answered quickly. "I'm just… getting out of the shower. Give me half a moment?"

Belle nodded and was back out the door before she'd given herself permission, pulling it closed behind her and leaning against it. She hated that feeling bubbling in her, the one that said she should know more than she actually did, and she wanted very desperately to remember him in that moment. It seemed important, even though he'd told her that she should take her time and not worry herself over it. Blue eyes squeezed closed and she reached, struggling for anything that would come. She grabbed for the images that floated, and she thought she could almost recall a strange, teasing sort laugh on the edge of her memory.

She nearly lost herself in it and didn't hear the sound of the doorknob twisting on the door she was leaned against. It opened and Belle tumbled back straight into an equally startled Mr Gold. "I'm sorry," she repeated as he just barely caught her, almost thrown off balance himself.

"Not to worry," he answered softly, clearing his throat in a nervous fashion and set her back to her feet. He straightened himself then, leaning against the cane that she'd yet to see him walk without, and he was dressed in a pair of pajamas now. "Did you find everything to your liking?"

"I… don't know," Belle answered honestly, eyes darting down to her stocking-covered feet. She curled her toes under her, focusing in on the motion because she didn't want to see his expression at the silliness of what she was about to say. "I don't really remember anything past that room you found me in. I… it's rather loud in this house?"

He chuckled, the sound soft and it pulled her eyes back to him. "A bit, I suppose."

"There are noises I don't know."

"What kind?"

He'd moved his cane around front down and was leaning against it with a much more comfortable smile playing at his lips. It eased her nerves. He wasn't giving her that same wide-eyed expression that Emma had earlier when they'd spoken. Gold didn't think she was crazy, and that gave her a little more courage to speak.

"Some sort of wooshing in the walls?"

The smile broadened. "Ah. That would be the pipes."

"For the water?" she asked and knew she should have known the answer.

"Yes. Likely for my shower. I didn't think to warn you."

"You shouldn't have to," Belle murmured and looked back to her toes. It was embarrassing.

Gold reached a hand out tentatively and his fingers rested against her arm. They lingered there for a moment as if he weren't quite sure if she would knock them away. "You've been through quite an ordeal, my dear," he whispered, his lilt soft and familiar.

"How did we know each other, Mr Gold?" Belle asked, looking up again and he met her gaze. "Were we… close? You said that I changed your life, but I don't know what you meant by that. I know that I should-"

"It'll come back to you," he promised, and not for the first time that evening.

"I want to hear it from you though. Please?"

He loosed a breath through his nose and motioned to the stairs. "How about some tea while we talk?"

She nodded and followed him slowly down the stairs, a thousand questions raging through her mind and none of them slipping out. They wound around to the kitchen and he moved to put the kettle on, leaning against the counter while the water boiled. "It will… make more sense later, but you came to work for me at my… home." He was careful with his words, picking and choosing them in a slow manner, his eyes never leaving hers. Oddly enough, it didn't make her uncomfortable, even though she knew he was gaging her reaction.

"Were we friends?" she asked.

"Of a sort."

Belle pursed her lips together and despite her best efforts, a question that she didn't want to slip came tumbling from them. "Were we… together?"

That seemed to startle him and he broke the eye contact to turn back to the kettle. It hadn't begun to sing yet, but he appeared to be willing it to make some noise or another so that he could avoid answering the question. Belle felt her chest clench a little. She hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable, of course, but it was just the way he looked at her. It was like he'd seen a ghost.

"No," he breathed after a moment. "Things never got that far."

"But you cared about me?"

His eyes flickered back, never quite meeting hers. "Yes," he answered in a small voice.

"And I cared about you?"

"I believe you did."

The kettle began to sing and he reached for it, moving it over and pulling two mugs from the cupboard. She watched him and he very purposefully did not watch her as he worked, placing two bags into the mugs and pouring the steaming water over them. He handed her one and she offered him a shy smile. "Thank you."

"Of course," he answered automatically.

Belle reached forward and her fingers rested on the knuckles of his hand that loosely gripped his cane. He stiffened at the touch and her smile managed to broaden. "I mean thank you for saving me," she clarified and that brought his warm brown eyes back to look at her.

Gold swallowed hard. "I know… I know you don't know me yet, but I will protect you, Belle. This time, I won't let anything happen to you."

She didn't say anything as she set her mug down so that she could wrap her arms around his middle. He didn't say anything, but she heard the soft sound of his own mug being put down on the counter and felt a hesitant arm returning the embrace. She still couldn't remember him, but this felt right, and right now, her instincts were all she had to go off of.

Baelfire was not a natural early riser. When he'd been young his papa had let him sleep, even though he'd been up before the sun to spin and work to put food on the table for them both. He'd been a child and didn't always understand just how hard his father really did work before his curse, but looking back on it as an adult - even if his physical age was just over twenty, he'd lived for centuries and was certain that had to count for something - he knew that Rumplestiltskin had done everything to make sure they stayed afloat after Bae's mother had left.

Neverland had done nothing to help his ability to rise early. In fact, Bae thought it might have made it worse. Those years had been filled with long nights on the run, often into the morning's light. The boys that followed Pan cared little for the rules they said that adults put into place. He'd noticed that the island had finally sunk into an almost perpetual darkness that made it difficult to tell day from night. It also made it difficult to know just how long he'd been there.

He wasn't in Neverland, though, nor was he in their little hovel with only very thin walls between them and the frigid temperatures outside. Oh, the wind was whistling, but there were sturdy house all around them and as Bae blinked his eyes open he remembered that he was snuggled down beneath piles of warm blankets that his father didn't have to continuously mend to keep out the cold air. He wasn't on the run from Lost Boys or from any sort of cops that thought they might smell a con in the making. He was safe, and as he let the last few days' worth of memories fill up his mind he almost dared to think that he might have found a place where he could belong. Where they could belong.

Emma tightened her grip on him, pulling his smile wider and all he could see was blond hair. She was waking up, reluctantly, just like he was, and he hoped that she'd be in a better mood this morning. While she'd promised to give him until the new year to prove to her what he'd been saying was true, she hadn't really let the bit about Belle go. He understood, really he did, but he hoped he was putting his faith in the right place. His papa seemed to genuinely care about her and if he was going to help get her memories back, then that could hardly be a bad thing. Once Emma saw that transformation, even she couldn't deny it forever. They could stay here. Once her family woke up, she could be reunited with them and they wouldn't have to worry about conning people for their next meals. It was more than he could have wished for. It was more than he would have ever hoped for, certainly. They could finally have found a home.

"What're you grinning at this early?"

He managed to look down to find a pair of hazel eyes staring sleepily up at him and the grin only widened. "Nothing," he said, his voice rough from sleep.

"No, you've got that Neal's-been-thinking look on," she argued with that quirked smile of hers that he loved.

"Yeah, and what does that look like?"

The smile broadened to a grin and her fingers moved under his t-shirt to dance across his ribs, sending him twitching away from her. "Not fair!" he complained and she giggled.

"Then tell me!"

"It's stupid."

"Maybe not?"

It was, or it would be until she was able to wrap her mind around the fact that he wasn't crazy. Emma wasn't the most trusting person to begin with - from what he knew of her past, he understood why - but she was in a delicate place now and he had to be wary of that so that he didn't send her running. She had already given him more than he might have hoped for and she was trying to trust him, against all odds.

"I was thinking… that Papa has that really fancy coffee machine downstairs and I bet I can figure it out and bring you a cup up?"

"Coffee in bed? Isn't that supposed to be breakfast?"

"Well, I never claimed to be a cook."

"Too bad you didn't inherit those skills," Emma teased and kissed the tip of his nose. "I'll go down with you."

He shrugged and she threw the covers off of them, both immediately regretting it as the cold air came rushing in. Emma yelped and pulled one of the quilts after her, wrapping it around her shoulders and Bae glared a little. "Thief."

She rolled her eyes. "Uhhuh. So are you the pot or the kettle?" She stood there as he shivered, pulling himself out of bed and looking for the socks he'd been sure he was wearing the night before. "You coming?"

"Give me a sec to find my clothes, if you don't mind. It's cold and I threw a sweatshirt down somewhere last night."

"I meant the blanket, dummy," she groused and he looked over to see she was holding it open for him.

"Oh." Bae darted for it, ducking into the quilt and wrapping an arm around her so that they could walk closely enough together. It was awkward, but they made it through the door like that without either of them losing the quilt. The fact that there were other quilts on the bed didn't seem to matter as they huddled and scooted down the stairs as gracefully and quietly as they could manage.

The laughter quieted as the hit the bottom of the steps and realized that they were not the only ones downstairs on that early Christmas morning. Bae shushed Emma immediately as they crept around the corner, spying the two very still forms on the couch. As they moved closer it became clear that neither were awake, but Rumplestiltskin and Belle had fallen asleep at some point and were stretched out on the couch together as if no time had been missed.

"I guess he really does know her, huh?" Emma whispered and motioned. She was smiling, though, and it caught.

"Guess so. Meet you in the kitchen?"

She nodded and he kissed her quickly, unwrapping himself from the blanket and moved into the sitting room. Rumplestiltskin was slumped against the pillows of the couch, feet propped up on a footstool with Belle curled into him, leaned against his chest with an open book in her lap as if they'd been reading it together. His neck was bent at an awkward angle, side of his head rested against the top of hers, and Bae found himself simply watching. There had been so few times that he'd actually seen his papa sleep when he was young, but now the lines in his face seemed relaxed and he looked peaceful.

"Neal?" Emma called as softly as she could and he waved that he'd be there in a moment. His smile didn't fade as he grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and carefully spread it across them both. He waited half a second to see if they would wake, and when his papa only stirred he left them there to sleep. With any luck, maybe he and Emma could figure out something for breakfast and surprise them.

He padded his way into the kitchen to find her already searching through cupboards for what she needed. "You're on coffee duty," she whispered.

"Yeah, and what are you doing?"

Emma grinned, pulling the eggs from the fridge. "Pancakes."

They had been talking well into the night. He hadn't even thought about the void that Regina had provided her with to fill the place of her memories would have affected the way she saw the world they were currently in. She was very much Belle. She was still as clever, curious, and determined as she'd always been, but it was as if someone had simply wiped the slate clean. Regina couldn't deprive her of the qualities that made up her personality without replacing the personality entirely - just as she had with most of the people that were in Storybrooke - and for some reason she'd chosen not to do that. Rumplestiltskin still wasn't sure why, but there would be time for all those answers after he was sure he could keep his temper in check. He needed her, both to return the memories she'd promised to return and to work on their Magnus problem that he didn't dare forget for too long, and they both knew it.

He couldn't quite recall the point when he and Belle had split ways for the night. The last memory he seemed to have was that she had found his collection of books he kept in his house and had been enraptured. Everything was new and he kept a bit on everything. Mr Gold had spent almost as many of his many lonely hours reading as he had tinkering when he got home from the shop in the evenings and he kept quite the assortment on his shelves. Belle had found books on history, technology, antiques, politics of that world, and several classics. She'd barely known where to start, and now that Rumplestiltskin thought about it, he didn't think she'd ever decided to stop.

Dark brown eyes fluttered open slowly and he recognized that he was sleeping while sitting mostly upright. He had never left the couch the night before, but instead his former maid was leaned against him, her cheek pressed against the silk of his shirtsleeve and he had apparently dozed to the point that he had leaned against her as well. He felt the blood rush to his face immediately. This young woman no longer knew him, and even if she did, they'd hardly left it at a point where he could simply expect… what? For her to fall asleep next to him? To want to spend forever with him, not simply stay because of a deal that had been struck for her family's sake?

Don't be a fool, he reminded himself sternly, or perhaps it was his curse bleeding through and pushing reality in. She only thought she loved you, and no matter what, in the end, you threw her out. You made your choice. You're no hero to rush in and rescue her now.

Rumplestiltskin grimaced at the thought and he pushed a short breath out through his nose. His thoughts, the curse, or simple truth, it really didn't matter. He'd betrayed her, and while he knew now he loved this woman more than he could have bared to think about while, for him, still fresh from the sting that had been Cora's and his wild relationship, he couldn't expect the same when she came back to herself. He had to be prepared for that and he didn't dare put his heart on the line just so that it could break all over again. He would care for her, he would protect her, but he didn't dare fall in love with her all over again. He knew she would likely not feel the same once she remembered.

Belle stirred next to him and he stiffened, highly aware of their rather awkward position. There was no way to remove himself from it, of course, so he merely remained as still as he could until he found a pair of sleepy blue eyes looking up at him. "I fell asleep on you, didn't I?" she asked, sounding rather embarrassed with herself. "Why didn't you wake me?"

She sat up, blinking the remaining sleep from her eyes and Rumplestiltskin tried to remain in control. "I fear I may have drifted as well. It was quite late."

"I'm so sorry. You must be terribly stiff this morning."

He was, now that he thought about it. He'd fallen asleep in more awkward positions in the last handful of days than he normally would have. Part of him - the part he was still trying to quiet down - didn't mind at all. It had allowed him to be close her her if even for a short time. It was amazing how bright her light was against all of his own darkness, even without her memories intact. Between she and Bae in his life, perhaps he could even be a better man here with his curse cut off as it was.

"It's no matter," he said after a moment when he realized that he hadn't answered her yet. He could hear sizzling coming from the kitchen and the idea of Bae trying to cook breakfast was enough to pull him almost immediately to his feet. Thankfully, Belle was there to try to steady him when his ankle immediately gave way and he started to tumble forward.

She let out a startled gasp and her fingers grasped hold of his shirtsleeve and he rocked back, able to shift his weight to steady himself. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes." She was smiling at him now and it was terribly distracting. He knew he needed to put distance between himself and the pain that was certain to come, but perhaps that could wait just a little bit.

"You don't strike me as a man easily flustered, Mr Gold," Belle said quietly, "but you do seem rather tongue tied."

Rumplestiltskin flushed. "We should go on in for breakfast. Wouldn't want Bae to burn the kitchen down."

"I heard that!" his son's voice came from the kitchen and he stuck his head in. "Emma's cooking, not that that's any better. Get in here or we'll eat without you."

Belle giggled and handed him his cane, barely letting him get his fingers around the handle before she pulled him in towards the smells that were wafting in. The little would-be savior had found everything she needed, so it would seem, and was making cinnamon pancakes. Bae had managed to remember where the plates and silverware were and had set the table, looking fairly proud of himself. He smirked as Belle took a seat and Rumplestiltskin simply watched it all unfold, feeling a bit like he hadn't actually woken up yet.

"So?" Bae whispered.

"So what?"

"Did she remember you?"

"Regina hasn't returned her memories yet," he answered with a slightly confused look and his son shrugged.

"Thought maybe something would have gotten through. Bits did with Gold."

"Did they?"

Bae offered a lopsided smirk and sipped his coffee without answering.

Emma, for her part, looked in much better spirits that morning as she put a big pile of pancakes in the center of the table. She turned her grin on Rumplestiltskin as if she'd proved him wrong on something, but perhaps that particular look was meant for Bae who was still at his side. "Told you I make a mean breakfast," she announced. "Merry Christmas!"

Bae burst out laughing and his papa chuckled, shaking his head the whole way to the table to take a seat. Yes, this was certainly a different and unexpected turn of events - something that a man that had been accustomed to seeing the future rarely enjoyed - but as he looked around at his long-lost son, the woman that he'd thought he had loved too late, and the someday-savior some Storybrooke that would break the curse that he'd orchestrated, he thought that this particular twist and turn could turn out alright.

TBC

Notes: Well that was a fluffy chapter. Apparently I missed writing Rumbelle :P

Alright, fellow writers, I have a question for you. Does anyone have any experience with Wattpad? I'm potentially looking into it for my original works. Does anyone know anything about it?

Next time - Emma and Belle get roped into volunteering to help Mary Margaret read to patients in the hospital, and a certain book makes an appearance.

Chapter Text

14.

Three days after Christmas things seemed to have evened out at least a little. Neal hadn't pushed the fairytale thing, Belle seemed to acclimate quickly, and Gold spent most of his free time with her or with Neal. The boys were at the shop that afternoon and Belle was engrossed in a book at the house. That left Emma on her own for entertainment.

She had explored every bit of Gold's house that she thought she could reasonably get away with without appearing to be snooping. She had lived in enough places by that point to have it down to an art, but now she was going stir crazy. She needed fresh air.

That was how Emma found herself trudging down the snow-covered Main Street. People were milling about, looking in shops and generally going about their lives. There was something both nerve wracking and relaxing about a tiny town like Storybrooke was, and she tried to picture Neal growing up in a place like it. Outside of the circle she'd been pulled into, it seemed like a quaint little town where nothing much happened. People moved in and out of their lives like they would anywhere else, oblivious to the weirdness that lay just under the surface of their town. Either the two most powerful people in town were crazy or there was something very strange at play.

"Oh!"

Emma jerked back last second but didn't quite avoid colliding with the dark haired woman that she met upon arrival. Mary Margaret flushed. "I am so sorry," she managed, stooping to collect her fallen papers.

"I don't know why you're sorry. I ran into you," the blonde answered as she bent to help. She'd been so caught up thinking about the people of the town that she had forgotten not to run into them.

"I have a terrible habit of getting so lost in thought that I don't always watch where I'm going," Mary Margaret confessed as she collected her papers. "You're Emma, right? Mr Gold's son's girlfriend?"

"Yeah. That's me," she answered as they both stood. She handed the papers she'd collected over and Mary Margaret offered a bright smile.

"Well, welcome to Storybrooke, Emma. I'm Mary Margaret. Are you two staying long?"

Emma offered a noncommittal shrug. "We're just visiting his dad for a little bit. I don't really know." She caught sight of one of the papers sticking out of the folder she'd handed back. "Do you work at the hospital?" It looked official enough. Maybe Mary Margaret would know something about the asylum underneath.

"Oh no. I only volunteer. I teach fourth grade down at the elementary."

Well, there went that great idea.

"If you're looking for something to do with your time, we're always looking for volunteers," Mary Margaret said cheerfully and Emma blinked.

"Well, that's not what I-"

"It's really more fun than you'd think. The kids from my class decorated everything right before they left for Christmas break, so everything's still festive and colourful! You really should drop by."

"Yeah," Emma found herself saying without really meaning to, "I'll see when I have some free time. What do you do? Sit and read to coma patients or something?"

"We haven't before, but that's an excellent idea. The town library has been shut down for ages, but I'm sure Mr Gold keeps quite a private library. Would you mind terribly finding a few books to bring by? This evening would be wonderful."

The teenager felt like she'd been caught in a whirlwind and sucked right into it. "I'll see what I can do," she promised, and when Mary Margaret beamed she didn't think she was going to be able to find a way out of this. For such a mousy little woman she certainly was able to bring in the volunteers to help. "I have to run a couple of errands first, though, so I guess I'll meet you there."

"Perfect."

Regina was almost through piecing together what she needed for her two deals that were going to save her life. It had been a calculated risk when she took the little maid less than a year before she had cast the Curse to End All Curses, and she had known that. Rumple had been terribly distracted, though, and the Queen had received that from the lips of her most loyal friend of the time.

She had let it slide until the bit with the gauntlet. What did she care if some little girl had caught the Dark One's fancy? It shouldn't have mattered. Not until he was willing to be ransomed for the sake of her life. That had been too much. Rumplestiltskin never gave to demands that he didn't want to give to, but he'd made it quite clear there was no other game at play. Maleficent had told her in some detail how irritable he'd been when he'd come back around and had forcibly taken the gauntlet back.

Not that Regina had really thought that this little daughter of some sniveling knight would have been her former mentor's True Love, but even the woman that hated love had a difficult time finding any other explanation for the reactions she had received. It had been a shot in a he dark to send the girl back, but if she didn't know better she thought Belle might have actually broken his curse if she'd been able to kiss him. He was quite attached, so it would seem. She had thought he might kill her when he came back to himself in the shop, but no one had moved much to stop him when he had lured her down to the asylum. She was alive at that point because she was useful, and for no other reason. Magic or not, there was no question that Rumplestiltskin remained the Dark One. It didn't matter how he appeared to the world.

Regina sighed and wiped her hands off on a towel. She would have thought he knew better after everything. Love was weakness. Her mother had taught her that, if nothing else. She'd thought that Cora had taught that to Rumple in a lasting lesson as well.

There was nothing to do while it boiled. Potion making in the Land Without Magic wasn't impossible, but it was tedious, and it left her bored. She left it to sit over the burner and started down the corridor that led under the graveyard and towards the town hall. A set of rickety old stairs hadn't changed at all since the curse put them there, but they led up to her office and to some semblance of distraction.

Apparently more than she had bargained for. Emma Swan looked startled by her strange entrance. The blonde teen was sitting on the couch - well, sitting might have been the nice way to put it, but folded up onto the couch with her chin having been resting on her knees was more accurate - and her hazel eyes wide and focused more on the door hidden in the wall than the woman coming through it. "Please, let yourself in," Regina groused, but couldn't bring herself to be as put as as she should be. Well, she'd wanted a distraction.

"Your secretary was on her way out and told me you'd be back."

"My secretary barely works," the Queen huffed. "You looking for a job?"

Emma snorted. "Why does everyone seem to think I need something new to do with my time?"

Regina quirked an eyebrow and moved over to where a kettle sat on a portable heater and she poured steaming water into two cups and handed one to her young visitor. To her credit, Emma sniffed at the tea that had already begun to brew but didn't complain. "Why do you say that?"

"The lady with the short, dark hair - Mary Margaret? - roped me into reading to people tonight at the hospital."

Now it was Regina's turn to snort as she took a seat in her high-backed chair. "Well isn't she just the little do-gooder?"

Emma smiled a bit around her drink. "Yeah, I got that impression too."

The queen sat up straight, fingers interlaced around one crossed knee, and her dark eyes found hazel ones. "So why are you here, Miss Swan?"

She sighed, setting her cup down and unfolding herself a little more so that she could lean her elbows against her knees and come a little closer. Regina tried not to be impressed, but she'd almost forgotten what it was like to have a conversation with someone. As a rule, she wasn't fond of strangers. They were a threat, but Emma Swan acted as if she wanted to be… friends. Apparently Regina had done something to win her over, and while she'd never admit it out loud, she liked the girl's spunk.

A heavy sigh escaped the teen. "Okay, so this is weird."

"Breaking into my office?"

"I didn't break in! Your secretary let me in," Emma huffed, but she must have caught the hint of a smile that Regina was wearing and she echoed it before motioning towards the window. "Storybrooke. Do you really think what Mr Gold and Neal say is true?"

Regina watched her carefully, trying to gage exactly what this girl meant. She seemed like a clever girl, though one that didn't put a lot of belief into things. It was difficult to have faith when life beat you down again and again - sometimes bit by bit and sometimes with one or two major blows that shatter your will to care - but she sounded like she wanted to. Regina remembered being that young. That naive. "You want to make sure you're not putting your faith in the wrong man," she said softly after a moment.

Emma flushed. "Well, I mean, it's more than just that… I guess. Maybe? I don't know."

Dark eyes watched carefully over the tea cup as she sipped from it.

"Have you ever loved someone?" the blonde asked quietly.

"Once. A long time ago."

"What happened?"

"He died," Regina whispered, amazed at her own honesty.

Emma winced at that, but she was looking steadily at the older woman now. "If this guy - the guy you loved - had told you something that sounded insane, would you have believed him or would you have needed proof?"

Regina tilted her head. She would have believed him, she knew. Daniel had said they could run and she'd been ready to run. It hadn't been true, though. They couldn't escape her mother, and if she had accepted that, if she'd just bent to Cora's will, perhaps it wouldn't have ended quite so badly. Perhaps Daniel might still be alive, even if he were off somewhere else and she… Well she would have found herself following the same path regardless, wouldn't she? Sometimes fate was inescapable.

"Sorry," Emma mumbled and shrugged her shoulders. "I just… I don't have anyone to ask, you know? Most people have parents or a sister or something, but I don't. I almost did, but I ran. I don't want to do that to Neal."

"Then don't," Regina said firmly. "I told you before: fight for what you want. Take it."

"Even if it means believing something absurd?"

The Evil Queen stood and offered her a hand up. She had pushed everyone away that she once cared about and the loneliness was overwhelming on a good day. Maybe it was time to start forming up some bonds. "You might be amazed at what you're willing to believe by the end of all of this."

Emma smirked. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

"I kind of want it to be true. Like… maybe he and I were supposed to meet or something."

Regina chuckled, but didn't have time to say anything before a loud chiming sound echoed down the main street and Emma looked at the clock on the wall. "Oh! I'm late. Sorry! You want to grab lunch at Granny's sometime this week?" There was a pause before Emma reached out and touched the older woman's shoulder. "Regina?"

The queen jerked a bit, startled. "That sounds wonderful," she forced out. "Now go on. You'll be late. We'll make plans." She scooted the blonde teen out and as soon as the door closed she ran to the window. The clock over the library was still chiming, singing out for all of Storybrooke to hear and Regina felt a knot settle deep in her stomach. Time was moving. She didn't know how fast or exactly how it had started, but it was moving.

"So what are we going to do about Emma's dad?"

The question was abrupt, catching Rumplestiltskin a little off guard. He looked up from where he'd been looking through his rental files for the first of the month. They hadn't spoken of the prince since finding him comatose in the hospital, but apparently he had remained in Bae's thoughts. Now that they were alone his son was watching him carefully, waiting for an answer that Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure he had.

The shop owner set his paperwork down and shifted his focus. "Well, he is in a coma."

"Why would the curse have done that though? I mean, you said Regina cast it to make her enemies miserable, right? It's not like Emma's mom knows that's her husband."

Rumplestiltskin shifted on the stool he was seated on. "True. He may have been injured when the curse hit. Most physical situations simply traveled over, but if he were on the verge of death... Well, yes, I suppose that's the most likely scenario."

"So how do we wake him up?"

Thin lips pressed together in thought. "That may take some time," he answered uncertainly. "It's nothing I particularly accounted for. There was a spell in place to keep Regina from harming either Snow or her prince, though it couldn't account for everything." His son shot him a questioning look and he continued. "When the curse came in it was in the form of a giant cloud. It rippled pieces of our world apart. If, say, a piece of the castle fell on him or something like that, the spell wouldn't have protected him."

"But being brought to Storybrooke could have saved his life?"

"I suppose so," Rumplestiltskin answered carefully. "Though none of that will help us to wake him."

Bae frowned deeply and it looked like his mind was trying to work through the problem. He was clever, but he didn't understand the inner workings of the curse as his father did. Waking him up without the curse actually breaking would be tricky at best. Rumplestiltskin was willing to find just the right threads to pull, of course. There were few things that his son could ask of him that he wouldn't willingly give.

"You can wake him, right?" Bae asked quietly and the the hasty promise he'd made to reunite his son's love with her family swirled in Rumplestiltskin's mind. He really should know better than to promise things without all the facts in hand. Even to Bae.

"I will do everything in my power, Bae," he promised carefully, "but we may need to wait until the curse is broken."

"And that may not be for another ten years?"

"Or so. Twenty-eight was the age that I saw."

"Still freaks me out that you can see the future," his son teased.

"Well, not here, and it does make it interesting when dealing with things going awry. I'll admit, the seer that I received my powers from said I would be able to learn the difference between what will be and what could be, but sometimes they prove to be quite similar."

Both men startled at the sound of the front door trying to open despite the closed sign clearly displayed and the lock that was firmly in place. It rattled again as if the person thought it might be stuck before they began pounding against it.

Rumplestiltskin sighed as he stood. Only one person would be so stubbornly persistent as to hammer down his locked door to get to him. Only one person was that impatient as well. He really didn't feel like replacing the door that day, so he limped to the front and tugged it open, glaring at Regina. "Closed," he read for her, jabbing a finger in the direction of the sign to prove his point.

"Not to me you're not," the Evil Queen huffed and would have brushed right past him if he had not stretched his arm across the threshold, left hand pressed against the doorframe and arm blocking her enhance. She scowled and he smiled a thin and dangerous smile.

"Even to you, dearie. I'm spending a few movements with my son."

"Rumple, this is important. Time is moving."

"And this surprises you?"

He saw frustration flash through her eyes even as Bae joined them. "Of course it does. My curse-"

"Your curse has been met with unforeseen circumstances," the curse's created growled. "Magnus has introduced variables impossible to entirely account for."

She blinked. "You think this is Magnus' doing? You said that there was only one way to break it. You said-"

"I did," he snapped, "but that doesn't mean that it can't be weakened. Magnus is powerful, Regina, though not more than the prophecy."

"And that is years away," she whispered and he simply waited, allowing her to come to her own conclusion on that. She didn't suspect Emma, even if the girl's presence was likely fuelling at least some of the change. Let the queen vent her fury towards the clerics and away from the savior, though. That would work everything out quite nicely.

"Now, your majesty, I'd like some time with my son, if you don't mind."

"I'm not done here, Rumple. This is-"

"Please." He watched the caveat wash over her, only increasing her agitated state. She couldn't fight it, though, and she had never made it into his shop to begin with. He barely waited for her to turn before slamming the door shut and licking it once more.

"That was weird," his son offered from where he was leaning against a counter. "I'm not claiming to be a Regina expert or anything, but she doesn't seem the type to accept a polite request."

Rumplestiltskin snorted. "Hardly. I knew I'd need a bit of leverage with Regina, so I had her agree to a caveat. She would heed any request as long as I say please."

Bae choked out a laugh. "Seriously? That's hilarious."

A smile perked his lips. "It will be useful for corralling her if the need arises."

"There's a limit, right? I mean, you can't control her like someone could you with your dagger, could you?"

Rumplestiltskin tilted his head thoughtfully. His son sounded almost worried. "No," he answered slowly, "I don't believe it would be quite that absolute, nor that long-lasting."

Bae nodded, accepting that. "Okay."

He left it there and they went back to what they'd been doing before Regina had so rudely interrupted. A bit of work, a bit of enjoying each other's company after so long. Somewhere in there Bae found an old, buried machine and Rumplestiltskin chuckled at the sight of one of his old spinning wheels. They dusted it off and pulled it out of the cluttered hole it had been fitted into. Rumplestiltskin couldn't imagine how he'd missed it all of those years, but it wasn't like Gold would have had any use for it. He and Bae, on the other hand, found many fond memories in the old wheel that has once sat in their home and worries about Regina and the curse were pushed aside at least for a little while in place of the memories he hadn't dared focus on until he found Baelfire.

Rumple - because that name just seemed to suit him better than Mr Gold did, but she certainly didn't know why - had told her that she was welcome to anything in the house. He had shown her how to use the phone to call him and had left the numbers she was to dial on the table next to it if she had any questions while he was gone. There were also written reminders that many of the lights could be turned on by flipping a switch and to make sure that the refrigerator was closed so that it didn't leak water onto the kitchen floor. There was food in there and water in the kettle. If she didn't feel like eating anything in the house she was welcome to call him at the shop and he would grab something at Granny's on his way home. The list went on in the same way, and she wasn't sure if he was a natural worrier or if she caused him to. She certainly hoped it was the latter, because if it was, she wasn't sure what she'd done in the time that she knew him to cause it.

She still couldn't quite remember him, or anything of any consequence about her own past for that matter. Every time she asked he assured her it would come back in time, but not how or why he knew it would. She trusted him, though, despite everything. She just would have liked to know why she trusted him.

Though her conscious mind couldn't quite pull anything forward beyond the fog, her dreams came alive with things she couldn't possibly place. They were so very different than this quaint little town that she'd found outside of her cell beneath the hospital. They were made up of stone walls like those of a castle and strange smells, and a man that looked like Rumple but didn't. She only caught glimpses of him, but his eyes were different. She thought she liked them better as they were when she woke.

Belle had risked asking Bae about it just the morning before when she had happen to catch him alone. He had been almost as awkward and flustered about it as his father was, but when pressed he said that he hadn't been there when they'd known each other. He and his father had been separated when he was young, he explained, and had only recently found each other again.

The sound of the front door opening caught startled Belle out of her thoughts and she looked up from where she'd been reading. Well, she'd meant to be reading anyway. She was sitting on the sofa with a book in her lap and she was staring at the page, but her mind was focusing on everything but the words. Emma came barreling in, gaze sweeping through the room before settling on Belle. "Is Gold not back yet?"

Blue eyes blinked owlishly. "He and Bae are still at the shop." She paused carefully. She still hadn't gotten a very good read on the blonde teen that was apparently dating Rumple's son. "Maybe I can help?" she asked hesitantly, unsure how the offer would be received.

Emma scrunched her nose up and seemed to be considering her options as quickly as she could. "Well, you do like books, right?"

Belle smiled. Finally a question that she knew the answer to. "I do love books."

"Great. Mary Margaret - a lady in town - roped me into volunteering to read to coma patients or something at the hospital. Could you pick a couple of good ones? I don't know what unconscious people like to hear."

The older woman tried to choke back the laugh that worked its way from her. Emma was entirely serious and she didn't want to hurt the teen's feelings just because the phrasing had struck her as funny. "I'd love to help. Would you mind terribly if I come along?"

"House is kind of big to be in alone, isn't it?" Emma asked with a hint of a smile. "I don't know how Gold has done it all these years."

Belle shrugged as she stood, crossing the room to the bookshelf to begin to dig through it for something useful. She quickly found a few titles that looked promising. "When are we going?"

"Now. We're already late. Sorry."

This time Belle did chuckle as she collected the books and slipped her shoes on. "I think it might be best if you drive," she offered and Emma seemed to relax a little.

"Yeah, might be better," she laughed and offered Belle a bag to put the books in and carry them. She was quiet as they walked out to the little yellow vehicle that she drove, but Belle couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable her presence seemed to make Emma. It was as if she were a reminder of something the girl preferred not to think on too long, but had to with Belle in the same room.

"So have any of your memories come back?" Emma asked as they walked in the front door of the hospital.

"Maybe?" Belle answered as honestly as she knew how. "It's more... feelings, than anything else. I know that doesn't make sense entirely, but I feel very strongly about certain things." She smiles. "For example, I know that I love to read. I'm not sure why I know that. I never had anything to read in the asylum, but I immediately went for the books at my first chance. There's that, and other things. It's difficult to describe."

"How do you feel about Gold?" Emma asked with a look that said she was trying to hide her curiosity and Belle felt her face heat.

"He's been very generous and... I think I trust him. I know I do."

"You just don't know why."

"Exactly."

"Hey Emma!" a voice called from down the otherwise empty hall. Belle saw a woman with short, dark hair approaching them with a wide smile. "And you brought a friend."

"Yeah, this is Belle. She's kind of an expert at books so I thought she might be able to help."

The volunteer continued to smile and extended a hand. "Hi, Belle. I'm Mary Margaret. Glad to have you on board."

Mary Margaret explained what they would be doing with the ease of someone who had been volunteering for years. She set both young women to work and Belle made her rounds, reading to various sleeping patients. She lost herself in the storytelling until she heard a startled yelp from down the hall.

Belle dropped what she was doing and whispered her apology to the slumbering person in the bed as she darted down the hall to the source of the noise. She nearly ran into Emma as they went to investigate. They found Mary Margaret sitting on the edge of the bed belonging to a man who looked to be sleeping peacefully. In her lap was a book of what may have been fairytales of some form or fashion.

"What happened?" Emma demanded, looking around the room as if she expected someone to jump out.

"He woke up," Mary Margaret managed. "He grabbed my hand."

"Maybe he liked the story?" Belle offered, not quite sure what the issue with that was.

Mary Margaret shook her head. "This man has been in a deep coma for as long as I've been volunteering here," she managed and three sets of eyes focused on the blond man who slept on like nothing strange had happened.

TBC

Notes: These are the times when I'm so very, very glad that I write ahead. I've just been sucked into writing on some of my original stuff lately and have been going full blast at it. Thankfully, even with this update, I'm maybe four chapters ahead here. Next week I'm going to have to learn how to balance the two so I can stay ahead though. :-/

Next time - A coma patient wakes up, Emma's skepticism is put to the test, and Magnus proves he's willing to do anything the get what he wants.

Chapter Text

15.

"It was the weirdest thing. She thought she saw him move, but by the time that Belle and I got there it was like nothing had happened," Emma said as they walked into Granny's for breakfast the next morning. It had been Bae's request, since he pointed out that Belle hadn't actually been to the diner yet and it might be a good change of scenery for her. Rumplestiltskin hadn't been able to hold the argument up long - he seemed to be the only one that thought it was a bad idea to introduce her to the cursed town while she was without her own memories - when Bae had none-too-gently reminded him that Belle was not his prisoner and might like some fresh air with at least semi normal people. His papa had flushed and sputtered and every argument he made at that point sounded silly, so there they were at Granny's for breakfast. Well, at least Bae and Belle were happy.

"Mary Margaret said that he was a John Doe that's been there for years," Belle chimed in. "The doctor said nothing had changed and that she must have imagined it."

"Yeah, well, that doctor is super shady if you ask me," Emma grumbled and they took their seats at a booth. She turned back to Belle who was sitting next to her. "He wouldn't stop staring at you. Or Mary Margaret. It was creepy."

"Give yourself a couple years and he'll start flirting with you too," Ruby said as she came up to take their order and Rumplestiltskin was surprisingly happy that he'd been shuffled in against the wall and Bae was blocking his exit. Whale had proven himself a letch under the curse time and again, but the thought of him looking at Belle like that made his blood boil. His son likely wouldn't be pleased if he beat a healthy bit of respect into the doctor, so best that he didn't even have the option.

Emma made a face. "Creep."

Ruby shrugged. "Sometimes. So was that you at the hospital with Mary Margaret last night?"

"Yeah. Belle and I were there."

"Hey," Ruby greeted the newcomer. "So I guess you heard what happened after you left, right?"

Rumplestiltskin tried not to groan and failed miserably. "Could we not put our order in before the lot of you start on the town gossip?"

"Papa," Bae groused and shot him a meaningful glare before leaning in so close that neither of the three young women would be able to hear. "John Doe is David."

Well, that was interesting. "Are you certain?"

He nodded and Emma reached over to tap the table between them. "Secrets aren't any fun if you aren't willing to share," she teased before turning back the the waitress. "What happened?"

Ruby flashed a smile that somehow got a preemptive elbow to Rumplestiltskin's ribs to keep him quiet. "Well, apparently when the nurse went in for his rounds this morning he found the coma patient's bed empty."

"So what? He got up and walked out?" Emma asked skeptically and Ruby shrugged.

"No one knows. Apparently the guard on duty says he didn't see anything, but he's notorious for falling asleep on the job. Whatever the case, he's missing and Graham's trying to round people up to form a search party."

"We should go help," Belle said immediately.

"Yeah, if Mary Margaret was right and he was waking up he could be really confused," Emma agreed. "You guys want to grab breakfast to go and meet us?"

Rumplestiltskin sighed. It wasn't like they had much of a choice in the matter, but saying so would likely land him with another jab to the ribs. He was tempted to remind Bae that it hadn't been that long since his run in with Soren and Silas and that hurt.

"Yeah, we can do that," Bae answered for them.

Emma and Belle left their orders and scurried off, allowing Bae to shift over into the other half of the booth after they had ordered as well to wait.

"Planning to kick me under the table now?" his papa groused before he could stop himself.

"You're in a sour mood this morning. What gives? Isn't it good if he woke up?"

"As long as he doesn't get himself killed before they find him, sure, it's grande." At Bae's confused look Rumplestiltskin sighed. "Time may be creeping along, but the curse isn't broken. There's no telling how this will work itself out. I just..." He pulled in a deep breath to steady himself. He didn't want to let him down. That was the truth, but it stuck in his throat.

"Hey," Bae said softly from across the table, "you didn't hurt him. Between us, we might be able to save him."

There was something shining in his son's eyes that he hadn't seen on centuries. It was that same faith that his papa could make anything happen. Rumplestiltskin wasn't entirely sure where that faith came from, but somehow it had worked its way back into Baelfire's gaze and all he could think was that to let him down this time might destroy everything they were trying to rebuild. "Bae," he said very softly, "I'm no hero. I'm not here to save everyone. Just you."

"You saved Belle," he pointed out.

"That was a happy surprise, but I only came here for you."

"Yeah, well, you've found me, and it's your curse as much as Regina's. Seems like putting as much back in order as possible is kind of something you should do." He shrugged, slouching a little into his seat. "It doesn't mean you have to be a hero. It just means you're trying to do the right thing."

"That's not something I'm very good at," Rumplestiltskin whispered as if the words alone might drive his son away.

"Sure you are. My papa always tried to do what he thought was best, even if he had kind of a funny way of going about it. You just have to remember that." He waited until his father hesitantly met his gaze and offered a lopsided grin. "For me?"

Rumplestiltskin sighed as Ruby set their order on the table and he handed her payment. His son gathered everything up and stood. "I'll try," he promised carefully.

"That's all I'm asking," Bae said with a grin. "Let's go save Emma's dad."

The call had come in very late or very early, depending on how she wanted to look at it. Her first thought was that the doctor had somehow managed to drunk dial her. Regina had received a call the evening before to alert her that the John Doe that she'd signed on as the medical contact for - she wasn't fool enough to leave Charming's coma to chance - had shown slight brainwave fluctuations and that Mary Margaret Blanchard had claimed that he reached out and touched her. The mayor had brushed it off, neck deep in issues concerning an impatient Dark One, two sets of memories to return, and a very troublesome cleric in disguise. Those were the things that deserved her attention, not some sleeping prince whose wife didn't even know who he was.

She hadn't expected him to get up and go for a stroll, of course.

Regina pulled her jacket up around her face, the cold wind cutting through even now that the sun was up. They'd finally harassed that sleepy little dwarf of Snow's into admitting that he's fallen asleep on the job - again! - and he'd produced the real video that showed that damn prince getting up and stumbling out the back door. Now she had to pull herself away from the work she would have gotten back to that morning to organise a search party and they still hadn't found any leads.

"Regina! What are you doing out here?"

The Evil Queen turned, finding a waving, blonde teen coming her way. She thought her mood might improve until she saw Rumple's little amnesiac bookworm on her heels and it soured all over again. "I'm the missing gentleman's medical contact," Regina answered and Belle watched her warily.

"Do you know him?"

"I found him on the side of the road years ago," the dark haired woman explained with a shrug, though she hardly needed to. What was Belle doing there without Rumple? Shouldn't he be keeping her on a short leash until the girl got her memories back? What was he thinking?

"Well he couldn't have just disappeared," Emma said practically, "and if what you guys keep saying about the town is true, he can't leave."

"No," Regina murmured. "He can't."

"The boys are bringing breakfast. If we'd known you were here we would have brought you something too," the teen continued, walking forward like she belonged in the search party. Well, no one had told her she didn't, and if there was one thing that Regina had noticed about Neal's girlfriend it was that she had spunk. The queen was quite certain that she wouldn't like it nearly as much if they were pitted against each other.

"You put Rumple on a breakfast run?"

Emma grinned and damn it all, that girl knew exactly what she'd done. Regina chuckled. She knew there was a reason she liked her.

"Can you use a couple extra sets of eyes until then? We may not know woods like you, but I'm pretty good at finding people," the blonde offered.

"We can use all the help we can get," Graham called from a few yards away. He pointed out in a couple different directions as he spoke. "We have a team over that way, that way, and over there. Did you happen to bring anyone else?"

"Mr Gold and Neal are on their way in a second," Emma answered. "Belle and I are happy to help."

"Great. Mary Margaret's up that path there. Maybe you can help her?"

"Regina, are you coming too?"

The dark haired woman sighed and tightened her coat. "Sure," she answered, though joining up with Snow to look for her would-be-comatose husband was not something that she was looking forward to. She was all for keeping them apart and making them suffer, but she knew that their love was strong. It was possible that if he were to wake up that he would be drawn to her and wouldn't that be irritating? Regina didn't have time to add a mix of fake memories onto her to-do list. He really had found a very inconvenient time to wake up and when they finally caught up with Magnus she was going to make him suffer terribly.

She trudged behind Emma and Belle up an icy hill and her thoughts turned back to the cleric in question. Regina had thought about trying to use the curse to replace what he knew with a life of her choosing, but filling in a blank slate was so much simpler than overriding a powerful sorcerer who had the protection of an original power to back him. As much as she wanted to give Jacob Dawson the most miserable existence that anyone could ever create it would likely prove a futile endeavour. They would have a better chance using the Land Without Magic against Magnus. She just had to prove more clever than he was, and as long as she could keep Rumple on her side there was no issue with that. They were clever enough separately, but together they could stop anything that Magnus and that damn sparkling bug he kept on a leash were planning. Her revenge would not be thwarted.

"Regina!"

Brown eyes blinked, their owner pulled from her thoughts by the scream. She was darting forward before she knew that she was moving and she nearly flattened herself as her designer boots hit a patch of ice. She topped the hill and saw where Emma and Belle had disappeared to, the blonde nearly colliding with her. "Mary Margaret found him. He's unconscious. Do you have cell service? I can't get anything and-"

"Graham! Get the medics up here!" Regina called over her shoulder. "It's fine, we're not far. Where are they?"

She followed the nervous teen to where Mary Margaret Blanchard was bent over Prince Charming's still form. He was laid out on the cold ground, his skin too pale and his lips tinged blue. Belle was already had one of his hands in her own, her jacket spread out over him, and was trying to work the blood through it by rubbing it between her own hands. Emma was peeling her jacket off as well and looked on worriedly as Mary Margaret counted and forced air down his throat.

He could die there, Regina knew. He could die and even if the curse broke someday Snow would feel that same pain that she had caused Regina to feel. Her love would be stolen from her and she would have been powerless to stop it. The thought made her giddy.

"Regina?" Emma's voice broke through. "What can we do?"

"Exactly what Miss Blanchard is doing now," a voice said from behind and Regina turned to see Rumple trudging his way up the side of his hill, his son ready to take hold of his arm should his cane slip out from under him. His gaze was steady, his expression unreadable as he looked at his pet prince and princess that he'd watched out for as much as he'd double crossed.

"He's breathing!" Mary Margaret announced and Regina grabbed hold of Rumplestiltskin's coat sleeve, pulling him off to the side. Best not to waste this opportunity now that it wasn't entirely obvious that it wouldn't be the end of Mayor Mills' world if the man died.

"A word, while I have you?"

Rumple quirked an eyebrow and followed her, carefully picking his way around roots reaching up from the dirt and fallen branches. "Not the best timing, your majesty," he grumbled and she rolled her eyes.

"It never is with you. You're either playing the loving father or you're getting your ass handed to you by Magnus. I think this is the best time yet."

The Dark One stiffened and Regina tried not visibly wince. It was probably a bit too soon after the whole Belle fiasco to start falling back into their usual snark. She offered him a nod of acknowledgement. "Listen, I'll make it quick. Everything should be set for Jefferson to get his daughter back. I went over and beyond what you asked. Not only am I giving her her memories back, but I'm wiping her family here's memories of her."

Rumple nodded. "Good."

"And difficult. You're welcome."

"Is that your way to say you haven't even started on Belle?"

Regina did her best to look offended. "I'm almost done, but I need something from you." He shot her a skeptical look and she raised her hands in defence. "Something special to pour the potion on or into. A talisman."

He seemed to think for a second on that and nodded. "I have something. Bring the potion to the shop when it's done and I'll have it there."

"I can come by this evening."

"Then do."

He turned to rejoin the others, but Regina caught his sleeve again. "Rumple?"

"What is it now?"

She pursed her lips together thoughtfully. This was a delicate subject and, truth be told, she really wasn't trying to get under his skin with this. "I know that things didn't… end well with Belle," she murmured carefully and received a glare for her efforts.

"I hardly think that's any of your concern."

"I just think…. All joking aside, Rumple, Magnus is a formidable foe. We need to be focused on this if we hope to come out of it alive and… Well, you already have one person he can use against you."

"You're asking if I'm willing to add another?" he asked icily.

"I'm asking if you really want her to remember whatever happened before she left."

Apparently that wasn't what he'd been expecting. He blinked at her owlishly, large dark eyes full of calculation. He inhaled as if he were going to speak, stopped, and glanced back over to where Belle had stood away with Mary Margaret, Neal, and Emma to let the paramedics work on Charming. Finally he loosed the breath. "Yes. I'm certain."

Regina nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll be by this evening and we'll be set, right? Same side again?"

"Yes yes. That was the deal."

She found herself chuckling at that. "And you never go back on a deal."

"No, I don't. Just see to it that you abide by your end." With that he turned and moved towards Neal who spoke lowly with him. Regina watched as Emma looped an arm around her young lover's waist and Belle joined them. Wouldn't they make the lovely little family? It was yet another place where she didn't belong. Her own love was dead, the only marriage she'd known had soured before it was ever formed, and any hopes for another love had washed away with that stupid little fairy. All she had was the darkness. Rumple had taught her that, even if he seemed to forget that now.

He was going to be alright. Emma wasn't quite sure why she was as relieved as she was, but Whale had said that they had just barely gotten to him in time. A few minutes longer and there could have been irreversible damage done. An hour or more longer out there and he might not have woken up at all.

As it stood their John Doe had woken up, though they didn't seem any closer to finding out who he was once he was awake than when he'd slept. Much like Belle, he wasn't sure of who he was or how he'd gotten there. He did, however, ask about the dark haired woman that might have been from a dream. Dr Whale assured him that Mary Margaret was very real and had been partially responsible for saving his life.

It was late afternoon by the time everything settled down and Emma was starving. The food Neal and Gold had brought from the diner had been forgotten when they found their missing person. Now, though, she thought that she might wake the whole hospital with the way her stomach was growling and she glared at it as if it would do any good.

Like magic, a bag appeared in front of her face and she blinked at it. One sniff and her mouth began to water and she took in, finding her boyfriend circling around the set of chairs she had settled herself into in the waiting room. "You are amazing," she breathed as she unfolded the paper bag and found one of Granny's burgers waiting for her.

"I do what I can," Neal answered with a grin. "How's he doing?"

"Better. He still doesn't remember anything, but that seems to be going around this place." She took a big bite of the hamburger and glanced over to him, speaking around it. "Must be the curse," she teased.

Neal frowned a little. "I wish you believed that when you say it. This is serious."

"Well, when I see Belle's memories magically come back then I won't have any choice, right?" she asked with a grin and kissed his cheek.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and then we might be stuck here, you know."

"Might not be so bad," Emma said quietly, taking another bite of her burger. "It's kind of nice, you know, being a part of something?"

"You done running?"

She looked at him and felt her chest clench a little. She'd spent more of her life running than not. She wasn't sure what she'd do with something like family - well, Neal's family, but she was starting to like Mr Gold now that she was getting a feel for how to get past that smooth protection he kept up - or a home. She and Neal could stay here, make a life here. They could belong here. It had felt good to help a person she had never met and join together with the people around to do it. She had always been wary about forming bonds before, but here it felt right.

"Maybe," she answered after some thought. "You?"

Neal offered her a crooked smile and stole a french fry. "I think maybe so."

Emma smiled and leaned in, feeling Neal's arm go around her. She could get used to a little stability. There was a first time for everything.

"What are you two still doing here?"

The blonde perked and found Mary Margaret looking very tired, but happy. "Just wanted to make sure everything was okay before heading out," she answered the older woman.

Mary Margaret smiled. "Dr Whale says its a miracle. He may remember his life before, he may not, but Whale's hopeful that he'll make a physical recovery at least." She paused, glancing around the waiting room. "Have you seen Mayor Mills? She's his medical contact."

"She had something she had to work on," Neal answered. "We'll probably see her this afternoon."

The dark haired woman nodded, but she looked hesitant to say anything. Emma knew that Regina could be a bit prickly, but people that spent their lives alone were like that sometimes. Not everyone could be as friendly as Mary Margaret. "Could you just let her know what I told you? I'm sure she's very busy, but she is his contact. We're hoping maybe we can find a link to who he is now that he's awake."

"Sure," Emma promised. "And you'll call if you need anything? You have my number, right?"

"Yes, I do," Mary Margaret answered with a smile. Without warning she stepped forward and pulled Emma into a hug. "We don't get a lot of visitors here, Emma, but if they're all like you I wouldn't mind a few more."

The teen froze at the sudden contact, but slowly managed to remind herself that normal people hugged back. "Just...ah... trying to help," she managed.

"Thank you," Mary Margaret beamed with the most real-looking ear-to-ear smile Emma was sure she'd ever seen.

"No problem, I guess."

"Hey, Papa and Belle need us over at the shop pretty quick," Neal said easily. "We should probably get going."

Emma resisted the urge to loose a relieved sigh. "Sure. Just give me a call if you need anything, Mary Margaret." She ducked after Neal down the hall and waited until they were out the front door before glancing over at him. "Did your dad really need us over there or was it that obvious I had no clue what to do?"

"He doesn't need us over there, but I have something I want you to see." He offered her a lopsided grin. "And you were pretty obvious."

"Shut up," she grumbled and balled up her fist to hit him in the shoulder. Not that he felt it between her gloves and his jacket. Even so he made a show of falling to the side.

"Seriously, why do I put up with this abuse?"

Emma stuck her tongue out at him. "Because you love me."

"Okay, well there is that," her boyfriend answered with a grin and she took another swing that missed by a good foot when he dodged. The grin that broke out on his face made her laugh and she wasted no time taking off after him when he took off in a full sprint down the snowy road and towards his father's shop.

Regina was ahead of schedule, which should have been a good sign. When she became determined to do something, there was little outside of the strictest laws of nature and magic that could stop her. Even so, Rumplestiltskin found himself glancing at the clock on the wall in a nervous fashion. They hadn't settled on a specific time, just that she would come by, and he'd managed to pry Belle away from the hospital perhaps two hours before without being able to tell her why. He'd told her that he had a surprise for her, something that would add to the excitement of find their supposed John Doe alive that morning, but Regina had yet to show. In the meantime he had treated her to a burger at Granny's - to make up for the missed breakfast, he'd explained - and had brought her back to the shop to give her a few books that he'd found amongst the clutter that must have come over from her library in the Dark Castle. She'd found a place to sit in the back and was currently lost in one of the lengthy books on adventure as Rumplestiltskin tried to busy himself in the front.

Bae had gone to fetch Emma - convinced that if this didn't prove what he'd been saying that nothing would - so when the bell chimed he assumed it was his son and the young savior returning. Rumplestiltskin was crouched down behind a counter, looking through a dusty old compartment there for something to take his mind off the absurd waiting. When he didn't hear their usual chatter, he peeked up and over the countertop to find Regina standing with a small scroll clutched in her gloved hand. Even without access to his magic, Rumplestiltskin could almost feel the potion it had been soaked in and the queen looked impatient as she held it out. "I assume you have what I need?"

"I do," he answered and finished standing, limping to the far end of the counter to open it up. Inside was a small, chipped tea cup. He pulled it out carefully, though it hardly looked to be worth anything compared to some of the other trinkets he kept in his shop. It was one of the most valuable possessions he owned, and he wouldn't have sold it for anything. Even Gold had known better.

Regina quirked an eyebrow. "Really? Are we going to have a tea party? I just came from Jefferson's, I really would prefer not."

Rumplestiltskin snorted. "I take it that's in order now?"

"It is," his former student answered with a shrug. "It was a lovely little family reunion. So much so that it just about made me sick. I expect this to give me much the same reaction." She reached for the cup with a grabby motion. "If you don't mind? I have a rather irritating prince to deal with. He may not have any memories now, but I've seen the way that Snow's been all but drooling over him. That is something I simply won't allow."

The shop owner rolled his eyes. "Keep your priorities straight, Regina. We have bigger problems to deal with than your petty revenge. Once Magnus is dealt with, you can always rewrite anything that goes awry."

She glared. "Easy for you to say. Do you know how difficult that is to do here? It's much easier with someone that doesn't have any memories. If he happens to regain them somehow-"

"And how would he do that?"

"The curse is weakening."

"So shouldn't you like to focus on Magnus?" he pointed out. The fact that Magnus likely wasn't why her curse was weakening really didn't matter. She didn't know that, and he needed her to focus on the priorities that she should be focusing on. Snow and Charming could wait. Anyway, the prince wouldn't receive his originally memories back unless the curse broke, and he still wasn't sure that was even possible for another eleven years. Even if Emma stayed, even if she believed in everything, the prophecy had been fairly specific in the fact that she would be twenty-eight.

"Shouldn't you?" she pointed out and snatched the tea cup from him. "Is she here?"

"In the back. Rather absorbed in a book."

"Good. Do you have a lighter or a match?"

He nodded, shuffling over to a drawer and tossing a matchbook towards her as the front door of the shop came crashing open, Bae running through it with Emma on his heels. They both froze just inside, wet and covered with snow and ice and looking very young in that moment. Bae offered him a sheepish grin. "Sorry."

"Lock the door behind you and switch the sign over, if you please," his papa answered. "Best not to be interrupted. Emma, quiet through this."

"Why me?"

Bae did as Rumplestiltskin had instructed and turned an almost excited look back to him. "Have you started?"

"Not yet," Regina answered snappishly and turned back the her task. She unrolled the short scroll and Rumplestiltskin could smell the oils off of it as she struck the match and it caught quickly. The smell was pleasant and he'd forgotten from time to time just how much he missed magic. It had been a comfort to him in his years of searching and solitude, and now it filled his shop, even if it was just for a moment.

Flames devoured the scroll quickly and it burnt to ash. Those ashes landed in the bottom of the tea cup and Emma crept a little closer to look as they vanished without a trace. Her eyes widened at the sight that she couldn't unsee now and Rumplestiltskin smirked a bit.

"I've done my part," Regina offered. "Your turn, if you still want to do this."

"I do," he answered immediately. He had to. Even if Belle hated him for what he'd done, he couldn't let her continue to wander around with nothing but questions bouncing around in her head. It was crueler than he knew how to be to the woman that he did truly love. "Belle, could you come in here a moment?" he called over his shoulder.

They waited. A moment ticked by, then another, and then another before the curtains finally parted as she peeked through. "Oh. Is there news from the hospital? I was so caught up in my book I didn't even hear everyone come in. How's he feeling?"

"Better," Emma said tightly. "Dr Whale's optimistic. Well…. about his physical recovery, anyway."

"He still can't remember anything?" Belle asked softly and her own pain was clearly expressed in those blue eyes.

"He's lucky to be alive," Regina pointed out sharply. "Rumple?"

Rumplestiltskin shot her a withering look. She was always in such a rush. Belle's attention had been turned back to him, though, and he sighed. "I have something that I wanted you to take a look at if you have a moment," he said and picked the tea cup up off the counter. It showed no signs of the scroll or the ashes it should have left behind. "Do you mind?"

"Oh it's pretty," Belle said with a bright smile, reaching for it. "It's chipped."

"It is. Take a close look."

She did as instructed and Rumplestiltskin was half sure that no one in the room was actually breathing. Bae was doing his best not to lean forward, but Emma made no such attempts. She watched with wide, curious eyes as Belle turned the little cup over in her hands, inspecting it closely. Blue eyes softened as she looked at it and her touch became more gentle, almost as if she feared she might drop it and send the pieces shattering against the hard, wooden floors of the shop. Her lips thinned out and her brows drew together. Finally, after several long, painful moments, she swallowed hard and looked up to meet his gaze.

Rumplestiltskin felt like he was on the edge of the world, waiting to see if he'd be shoved off into the abyss or not. The wait was excruciating, and he tried not to shrink back when that clear gaze fell on him. She knew. She had to know.

"I know you," she said, her voice soft and a little wobbly. "I know you, Rumplestiltskin."

"Yes," he answered tightly, unsure of what would come next. He hardly wanted to be made a spectacle of whatever it was that he might deserve at her hands. She'd told him that he was going to regret choosing power of her, and she'd been right. He'd known it even as she had stormed out of his castle, angry and hurt and everything in between. He'd done what he felt like he must to find his son. He'd promised himself when he lost Bae that he would love no one else until he found him. He'd made a mistake with Cora, and he was desperate not to repeat it lest he lose his chance. Belle had been an innocent victim of his tunnel vision, and he knew that now. She didn't deserve that.

It wasn't anger that shone in her eyes, though. Tears gathered there and she set the cup down as gently as her trembling hands would allow. He didn't have time to process it as she launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder and let out a sob. "I remember. I love you."

He didn't care that Regina was there and he didn't care if it might appear weakness. Rumplestiltskin wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "And I love you," he answered.

Belle pulled back, tears streaming down her cheeks, but at least she was smiling. "I was coming back to you. You stubborn, stubborn man. I was going to fight for you, but… You." She turned an accusing glare on Regina. "You stopped me."

Regina stiffened. "And I just helped return your memories. You're welcome."

"Things are a bit complicated," Rumplestiltskin explained. "We're in a land without magic, but someone came through with the curse that wasn't meant to. An old enemy of mine."

Belle's eyes widened a little. "And she'll help us?"

"She will. He'd happily kill her as well. Regina knows she's safer with me than Magnus."

His former maid nodded, taking it all in. Her gaze swept out and fell on Bae and a smile took hold. "Your son," she said fondly. "You found him."

"There's much I need to tell you."

"Well that'll be a start," she answered without losing her smile and Baelfire chuckled.

"I knew I liked her, Papa," he teased.

It was Emma's face that caught his attention once he looked that direction, though, and all eyes turned on the blonde teen as she stood gaping. "You remember? Everything?"

"I do," Belle answered.

"Then magic… is real? Just like that?"

"Just like that," Regina said softly.

"Well now," Rumplestiltskin said and offered Belle his arm. She smiled up at him and he thought he might melt into a puddle then and there. Thankfully, though, his voice gave no such indication. "I do believe we have some explaining to do. What do you ladies say to dinner?" He glanced over at Regina, the silent invitation extended. If they were going to start playing nice, he might as well begin now. She had come through and their deal stood.

"You have fun playing house, Rumple," the Evil Queen said flippantly. "I have some things to deal with. Messes to clean up and the like."

"Priorities," he reminded her and she glared. "Don't lose your focus."

"You either," she answered and motioned towards the others. "You have the most to lose out of any of us now."

He watched her walk out and he couldn't bring himself to argue with her. For a man that had nothing to lose for so long, he now seemed to be stacking up the ways that Magnus could hurt him, but he couldn't find it in himself to push them away. No, he reminded himself firmly, he'd been down that road, and he'd never make that mistake again. He would fight for those he loved, no matter the cost.

Reul Ghorm had found David when they first landed in Storybrooke. She had expected the prince to be separated from Snow, but she hadn't expected him to be quite so unreachable. He must have been injured on the way out. That was the only way to account for his state when they arrived, but she had never hoped that he would actually wake before the curse was lifted.

She had been surprised when she'd made her daily visit to the hospital and found that he had not only woken, but has gone for an impromptu walk in the woods. How he had managed it she had no idea. The prophecy had been quite clear: there was only one way to break the curse and it could not be broken until Snow's daughter's twenty-eighth birthday. Of all the things that she hated about the Dark One, his predictions that he shared were always spot on.

There was no way to argue with what she saw though. David - Snow's own Prince Charming - was awake in his hospital bed when she had arrived that morning.

"Tremors have swept through the curse since Baelfire's arrival," Magnus said that evening after she arrived back from her time at the hospital. His voice was thoughtful as he lifted a cup of tea to his lips. "Perhaps the Dark One's son weakened it more than we anticipated."

"It's more than that," Blue answered and glanced behind her. They were in her convent, but she often felt like his clerics moved with more freedom in that place than her fairies did. It was like her every move was being watched and judged for the meaning behind it.

"And what makes you say that?"

Magnus was sensitive to the curse in a way that few were. The Dark One and the Evil Queen had written and cast the curse respectively, and it was no wonder if they had a bit more feel to its deeper workings, but Magnus had relied on magic for his ability to see before he had come to the Land Without Magic, and he had once described the curse's subtle movements as ripples that allowed him glimpses of everything around him. It was impressive, she knew, for a man that had nothing to do with either the writing or the casting of the magic to have such a hold on it. She didn't know what kind of mortal could posses such a power, though he'd hardly been mortal in years.

"Do you believe Rumplestiltskin's prophecy has come to pass early?"

Blue froze, tea cup halfway to her lips and her back terribly straight. "Impossible."

"That he lied? Hardly."

"He rarely lies," she pointed out. "Even if he stretches and manipulates the truth. Snow said he was very clear on the matter."

The blind cleric snorted, setting his own cup down with a clatter. "You put far too much faith in that little princess of yours, Reul Ghorm. She is fallible."

"As are you." The words left her lips before she thought them through and she froze in place, watching his expression carefully.

Magnus chuckled. "I am careful and everything I do has a purpose. You know this." He shifted his weight in his chair and if Blue didn't know better she would think that he was looking directly at her. "Don't worry so much, Reul Ghorm. Everything is falling into place as it should. The little savior's presence would help us greatly."

"Breaking the curse could be useful," Blue agreed softly. It would allow them to move and to build alliances that they could not currently build. If Snow's daughter truly had arrived early, perhaps they really could work that to their advantage. "It would be nice not to have to work around our allies as well as our enemies."

The old cleric gave a small shrug. "They are inconsequential."

Blue blinked, confused. "I hardly believe that."

"Believe as you wish, though the girl is all that matters. It's possible that she would not break the curse at her age now, though she can end it and send us all home when the Dark One is dealt with."

The fairy sighed. "That is still years away, old friend."

A slow, broad smile tilted his lips and it sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. "She needn't break it to send us home, only to cease to exist."

He didn't wait for her response, even if she had had one to give. Blue found herself frozen in place and staring straight ahead as he stood, muttering his excuses as he left her to her terror. He had always told her that he had a way to send them home once the Dark One had been dealt with in this strange and distant land, though he'd asked for her trust. She had given it to him for the sake of their long and admittedly complicated history. Now she knew, though. He meant to kill Emma, Snow's little girl that Blue had helped to shuffle through to this world to escape the oncoming curse. Her death would shatter the curse and send them all spiraling back to whatever was left of their world, and he would use her as a means to get home as surely as Rumplestiltskin had used Regina to cast his curse to get to there in the first place.

TBC

Notes: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for dropping off of the face of the planet last week. I've been distracted by a variety of different things lately and it's been a little crazy. I will likely be going down to one update a week for a bit. Not sure how long yet, but the goal is to update on Wednesdays.

Next time - Rumple and Belle have a heart to heart, Bae finds out that Emma might be in danger, and Rumplestiltskin confronts Magnus at the convent.

Chapter Text

16.

He was different in this land without magic, but Belle didn't think she minded. Gone were the wild, reptilian eyes, replaced by softer brown ones that she'd seen in the moments when his curse had nearly given under to light of True Love. The golden scales had receded and soft, human skin replaced them. The sharp, high pitched giggle she had become accustomed to was nowhere to be heard, but instead she found a low chuckle in its place, quiet and reserved rather than showy. She had no doubt that Rumplestiltskin had secured a kind of power in this place, but it was different, and she thought she might be okay with that.

While she knew that he hadn't told her everything, he had been surprisingly open with her. It likely helped that Bae was there to shoot him a few well-aimed glares when he started to stumble around a subject he would have much rather ignored. His enemy's name was Magnus and he was an ancient cleric. While Rumple thought he had likely been born a man like any other, he had somehow prolonged his existence over a millenia, devoting his existence to the destruction of the Dark One's Curse and the man or woman buried beneath it.

Belle hadn't heard his name before, but she thought she knew who he was. Rumple had faced off with a sorcerer once that had nearly ended him, even with the full power of the Dark One at his disposal. He's returned to the Dark Castle in a terrible state. He had been covered in blood and writhing from the pain caused by the pure light magic that had been forced into him. He had nearly died laid out on the rug in the Great Hall. She had been able to help him, thankfully, and he had been back to his sarcastic, irritating self just a couple of days later, but it had taught Belle a lesson that she hadn't been keen on learning: immortality didn't necessarily mean that one couldn't be killed.

They had stayed up for hours while questions and answers were tossed around and caught. Emma had found her proof - or at least enough to openly entertain the idea of magic and other worlds - and loosed question after question. Rumple had answered most of them, though some only with a not-so-gentle nudge from his son.

Watching them made Belle smile. When she had lived and worked in the Dark Castle she had found a chest in a room set apart from everything else. In it had been filled with items that hardly belonged in a grand castle: ragged clothes that looked like they were meant for a child, a patchwork leather ball, and an old walking stick with markings notched into it. She had never gotten a clear answer as to what it all really meant, but she had guessed. Seeing him interacting with the son he had lost - lost, not dead, and he had at least told her that much - kept a smile lingering on her lips. They bickered a bit and Baelfire didn't take any of his attempts to sidestep issues when Emma asked questions. All in all, she rather liked the man beneath the monster.

Emma's questions were finally lost to the need to sleep after such a busy day sometime after midnight and she and Bae went upstairs to bed. Belle remained on the couch, quietly watching the man that she loved as his dark brown eyes remained transfixed on the dying embers in the fireplace. He didn't say anything for several long moments, but finally let loose a long sigh. "I've put you in the middle of quite a mess, haven't I?"

Belle leaned forward from her place on the couch. "It sounds like you're right there in it too," she answered carefully. She wasn't quite sure what he was getting at. Perhaps he didn't want her to stand with him. Maybe he thought she would be in the way.

"Yes, well, I didn't expect to drag those I care about with me down this particular path. He's already tried to use Bae against me. If he ever found out who you are or... or what you mean to me..." He ducked his head, seemingly aware of what he'd let slip and Belle felt her cheeks heat.

"Well, I do think that one kidnapping is quite enough for a lifetime," she answered after a moment, trying to lighten the mood.

Instead he only frowned. "I shouldn't have let you go," he whispered. He didn't quite meet her eyes as he spoke and Belle stood slowly, afraid to spook him any further back into his shell.

She must have moved too carefully, because he startled as she knelt down next to the chair, her hand going to his. "Letting me go was right, but it was the throwing me out that might have been handled a bit better."

Rumplestiltskin's dark eyes flickered to meet her own. "I know," he whispered."I was a fool and a..." He swallowed hard and the word coward hung between them.

"I was coming back," Belle assured him and squeezed his hand. "Regina caught me on the way."

"She told me you were dead. If I'd known, Belle, please believe me that nothing in the worlds could have stopped me."

This was their first real moment alone together since she'd regained her memories and Belle hadn't realized how ready to burst he must have been by that point. He took hold of her hands as he spoke, a kind of desperation shining through those dark eyes that never would have made it through back home. He was waiting - terrified, she realized - for something. What, she wasn't quite sure. "I know," she murmured and he seemed to relax a little. She reached a hand up tentatively to his face and while he stiffened, he didn't pull away. The tips of her fingers rested there for a moment as she tilted her head, studying this face she had only caught glimpses of. "You look so different," she laughed after a moment, realizing that she had gotten caught up in her own thoughts.

That pulled a small smile from him. "I suppose I do."

"I like it," Belle murmured shyly. "I always knew there was a man beneath the beast."

His expression darkened and he looked away then, pulling his hand from hers. "You've always wanted to see the best, my dear, but that doesn't always make it so."

"And you never do see the best in yourself," she countered and gently turned his face back towards her. For all the power he hid behind, she thought Rumplestiltskin might be a little more fragile than anyone really suspected. He had been told he was a monster, so he had played the part, using it as a wall to keep those that might hurt him out. She just had to prove to him she wouldn't hurt him. It might take time, but she loved him. She knew that now.

Rumplestiltskin snorted softly, but she didn't let him argue before she stood from her place and kissed him. It happened so quickly that she wasn't quite sure she had given herself permission to do so, but he didn't squirm away this time. There was no violent push back, no raging fear of losing his power that he clung to do desperately. Instead he hesitantly kissed her back, his hand coming to the side of her face as she leaned further into the kiss from the awkward angle, laughing as she lost her balance and all but toppled into his lap. She found herself sitting on the armrest of his chair, both of them laughing softly.

"I'm not leaving again, Rumple," she promised after a moment. "You can't make me this time. Not if you truly do love me."

"I do," he promised softly and Belle felt her heart leap a little.

"Then it's settled. We'll face this together."

She waited and he nodded. A smile broke out and she leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek. "I like this."

His brows knit together. "Facing terrible danger down?"

Belle giggled. "Being able to kiss you."

Rumple smiled for her. "I could certainly get used to it."

"You should," she informed him and pressed another kiss to his lips. "I'm not going anywhere." A yawn caught her by surprise and offered him a smile. "Except maybe to bed."

"That may be best." He stood, offering her his arm and she took it readily. She wanted little more than to stay with him that night, curled into his arms as a constant reminder that they had finally been reunited, but he had always been a gentleman in that respect. He walked her to the room she had been staying in and stopped at the door. Her own upbringing stopped the request that he stay in her throat, but it didn't stop her from tipping up on her now bare toes and kissing him once more. He returned it readily and when they finally broke they were breathless. "Goodnight," he whispered, sounding very much like he were forcing himself to say it. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and turned to limp down the hall.

"Rumple?" she called after him in a hushed whisper. He paused and turned, and she was quite certain that she had never felt about anyone as she did him. "I love you."

He smiled. "And I love you."

"Goodnight," she said quickly as she slipped into her room. There would be time to work through the emotions that being so close to him again brought crashing in. There would be time for everything now that she had found him again.

August shifted nervously where he stood. He'd received the location to his phone from a number he didn't recognize, but he was fairly certain he knew where it had come from. Magnus had made it clear to him what was expected: he was to act as a double agent of sorts and bring back any and all information that the Dark One let slip. He had tried to tell the crazy man that Gold would see it coming, but that didn't seem to bother the cleric. He was just a pawn to be used and tossed away.

"Good to see you came alone."

The author jumped at the sudden voice in the dark woods. It was late and he had already been waiting a good half hour after the text had said to be there. He would have given up earlier if his and his father's lives weren't on the line. The further he sunk into this mess, the more certain he was becoming that he might never get out of it.

"I know how to read between the lines," August answered after a moment, turning to face the Dark One.

Rumplestiltskin stood dressed as if he were going to a court case rather than attending a secret meeting in the woods well after midnight. A lazy smile stretched his thin lips and he nodded at him. "I take it you met Soren and Silas after I did."

August grimaced as his hand went up to the lingering black eye he sported. "Yeah. Swell guys."

"I'm keeping an eye on your father as I said I would," Rumplestiltskin assured him and August felt a little relieved.

"Is there no way just to get him out of here?"

"Not until the curse breaks."

"And Emma can't do that until she's twenty-eight," he sighed and his eyes scanned the area. "Listen, I don't like being a part of all this, but she's innocent."

"And why would I wish to harm the dear little savior?" the Dark One drawled.

August shrugged. "Don't know. I only heard a little bit of the conversation, but it sounds like Magnus wants to use her to break the curse early. I just... My papa told me to make sure she was safe and I haven't exactly lived up to that. I just want to make sure she's safe."

A frown twitched Rumplestiltskin's thin lips downward, but he waved it off. "Don't you have enough to concern yourself about, dearie? Don't forget that you and I have a deal, and I've held up my end this far."

"He knows you're awake."

The Dark One snorted. "He suspects."

"He wants me to work as a double agent for him. I told him you'd see that though."

"And right you are."

August didn't like that at all. Neither of these powerful men cared anything for him. He was very likely to get crushed between their struggle for power in Storybrooke.

"You'll have to be exceptionally clever to make sure he provides you with useful information."

"What if he doesn't?"

"You've already proven to be resourceful. Just keep yourself alive and I'll hold my end up."

August wasn't sure how he'd managed to prove resourceful. He felt like he'd managed to do just the opposite. "What should I tell him then?"

"That he should watch his steps carefully," Rumplestiltskin said darkly and turned, leaving the younger man alone in the woods.

Well, mostly alone. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he heard the leaves behind him rustle and one of Magnus' favourite twins slung an arm around his shoulder. "Well played, Puppet," Soren greeted.

"Now Magnus will know for certain," his brother agreed from August's other side,

The author swallowed hard, but didn't say anything. He didn't think it would do them any good. Rumplestiltskin was a force to be reckoned with, and he couldn't help but to hope that Magnus found himself on the losing end of things. At least he trusted the Dark One to keep his end of the bargain.

Bae hadn't meant to wait up for him, but he couldn't sleep after everything that had happened that day and Emma was already dead to the world. He'd left her in their room, snoring softly, and found that his papa was nowhere in the house. The cadillac was missing from its spot and he had found his cell phone on the kitchen counter. He didn't like it one bit, and it was hardly a smart move after he had been jumped outside the shop.

It was nearly three in the morning before he heard the lock on the back door shift. Baelfire startled awake from where he had dozed off and was halfway up as his papa slipped in.

Rumplestiltskin blinked at him in the shadows. "Bae, what are you doing up at this hour?"

"Asks the man that's sneaking back into his own house at three am," his son answered a little flippantly. There was something about the whole situation that wasn't setting right and his father wasn't installing confidence.

"I'm hardly sneaking anywhere," the older man said defensively.

"Papa, what's going on?"

Rumplestiltskin purses his lips. "What makes you think there's something going on?"

"You won't give me a straight answer," Bae pointed out firmly.

His papa seemed to weigh that a moment and finally his lips quirked up a bit in a defeated smile. "You were always far too clever," he murmured.

Despite the situation, Bae found himself smiling a little too. "I just know you too well. C'mon, I can't help you if you don't tell me."

A sigh escaped him and his father motioned towards the sitting room. He sank heavily into the chair Bae had been perched in and the late hour seemed to catch up to him all at once. "I'll tell you, but I need your word you'll let me handle it."

"Papa-"

"Your word, Baelfire, or I'll simple handle it anyway and you won't know till it's done."

It was Bae's turn to sigh. It wasn't an idle threat. "Fine. You have it."

Rumplestiltskin slouched a bit in his chair. "I was meeting with August and there's something that I'll need to handle before the idea gets out of hand."

"What did August say?"

"Magnus seems to know that Emma is here."

Bae waited for something further, and when it didn't come he wasn't sure if it was his sleep deprived brain that wasn't picking up on something obvious or his father's that was missing the fact that it wasn't. Finally, he decided it didn't matter since they both came out with the same result. "Okay?"

"He'll know as I do that there's a good chance that she can't break the curse until she comes of age. He wouldn't want to wait once I'm dead."

The casualness with which his papa spoke about a man murdering him hit Bae hard. "He's not going to-"

"That's beside the point right now," Rumplestiltskin cut him off. "There's only one way to guarantee that the curse could be broken without waiting."

"You're still not saying what that is," Bae pointed out uncomfortably.

A frown tugged his father's lips. "He's going to sacrifice Emma's life to send everyone home."

Bae felt like he had been plunged into an icy lake. If he hadn't already been sitting he was certain the world would have tilted and dropped him straight to the floor. "He's going to... Would that...?"

"Yes," his papa answered quietly.

He felt sick. "You didn't... I mean, please tell me you didn't mean to use that to break it and come find me," he finally managed to get out.

"No. The intention was always to have Emma break it through belief. That was actually a safety put in to keep Regina from killing her."

"Oh," Bae breathed out. "Okay."

Rumplestiltskin's hand on his startled him. "I will fix this, Bae," he swore, but his son didn't really hear him.

"I have to get her out of here. How could I have been so stupid? She should never have come here."

He stood, moving like a ghost, even as his papa stumbled after him. He ignored his protests, his reminders that he'd promised to let him handle it. He never would have given his word if he had known Emma's life was in danger. Finally he spun on his father when he hit the top step to the second floor. "Not like you've ever gone back on something before," he snapped.

Rumplestiltskin stopped where he was, knuckles going white as he gripped his cane with one hand and the railing with another. "Bae," he whispered and looked like he might fall over. The haunted look that filled his eyes nearly made Baelfire stop, but he didn't dare. He could apologize after he'd handled this fiasco. When Emma was safe.

He forced himself to turn and pushed the door to their room open. Emma was curled up and sleeping just as soundly as she had been when he had gone downstairs. She stirred and sat up slowly when he made no effort to enter quietly and, even though he couldn't see her face well in the dark, he knew she was glaring. "Are you drunk? Seriously, some of us are trying to sleep."

"Get up. We're leaving."

His eyes were adjusting a little better in the dark and he could see her blink at him. "What the hell? You finally get me to believe in all of this crap and now you want to leave just like that?" She looked past him and for a moment he thought she might have murdered his father if she had half the chance. "What did you do?"

"It's not his fault," Bae answered hastily when he saw his papa lingering at the door and looking a bit lost. Maybe he'd need to apologize before he got her out of there. He definitely needed to remember to promise to come back, not that that would do any good to quell his father's paranoia. "Magnus is after you."

"That's not exactly what I said," Rumplestiltskin said tightly from the door.

"Okay, he might come after you."

"Why me?"

"It's… complicated," Bae answered roughly and he was already stuffing her clothes - both the ones that she had brought with her and the ones that she'd gotten since they'd been in Storybrooke - into a bag. "I'll explain in the way."

"No, I'm not going anywhere," Emma growled stubbornly. "And stop packing. Your freaking your dad out." She motioned towards Rumplestiltskin. "He's not going anywhere. He gets like this. Neal, we're not going anywhere. We're here to help your dad."

"Right, and I'll come back, but I'm going to drive you down to Boston. Maybe further. Can he get there, Papa? He can't leave, can he?"

"He's not going to hurt Emma," his papa murmured softly.

"Yeah, because I'm getting her out of here before he can."

"Stop being stupid," the blonde snapped and chunked a pillow at him, hitting him in the side of the face. "I'm not going anywhere, do you hear me? If you're not going to tell me what's going on, go away. I'm sleeping and you're obviously not. Go take a walk around the block or something."

"Bae," his father called as he took a hesitant step in, "I will handle this. I swear to you. Please… don't go."

"See, he said he'll handle it. You said you trusted him. No one's dying and everyone's happy." Emma flopped back to the bed dramatically and pulled the comforter up over her head.

Bae stood still between them for a long moment, a new sweater of Emma's hanging dumbly from his hand. He looked back to his papa who nodded and motioned for him to follow. His movements were stiff, afraid, but Bae forced himself to do as he was told. He followed quietly out of the room and shut the door behind him, feeling the knot in his chest clench as he followed Rumplestiltskin down the stairs. By the time that they reached the bottom he moved past him and into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of his father's scotch from a cabinet and poured two glasses without saying a word. When he was done, he handed the extra to his papa, knocked his back, and poured another one even as it burned all the way down.

"I won't let him hurt her, you must believe me."

He looked back to where his papa stood with muted terror in his eyes and he pulled in a deep breath. "I know. I just… I can't lose either of you now. I just… can't."

"Either?" Rumplestiltskin asked in a small voice and Bae rolled his eyes.

"Either," he confirmed and took another long drink from his glass.

Rumplestiltskin nodded and sipped at his own. "I have some business at the convent that I've put off since you came to town. I'll take care of it tomorrow and handle Magnus."

"Papa, you can't-"

"Of course I can. He's not ready to end this now that he knows I'm awake. It's a game to him and he has to prove himself more powerful than I am."

"What will you do then?"

His papa shrugged. "The truth should do nicely to knock him off the scent."

"And what's that?"

The first real smile since he'd slipped through the door that night touched his father's lips and he poured himself another glass.

While he knew that morning had not come any earlier than it always did, it certainly felt like it. Rumplestiltskin was a morning person by necessity and many, many long years of practice. As the Dark One in the Enchanted Forest, he often didn't sleep, but there he had had his curse to sustain that habit. There in the Land Without Magic, he had no such luxury. At least he didn't have the hang over that his son might be fighting that morning.

The cadillac pulled up in front of the convent and Rumplestiltskin saw several of the so-called nuns scurrying inside. The Blue Fairy stood alone on the porch, her frown set deeply as if she'd known he was coming, but there was no way that she would. She waited, not bothering to say a word until he had limped his way up the stairs. He waved an envelope in the air. "Your paperwork for the lease renewal. I fear I had some personal issues to handle, so it's a bit late."

Blue crossed her arms and continued to glare.

"Shall I accept this as your notice then, Madame Superior?" Rumplestiltskin asked easily.

"I think we both know you're not here for the paperwork, Mr Gold," she snapped and her gaze swiveled to the sheriff car parked just in front of where his own vehicle was. "Your pet is harassing my nuns."

"He's hardly my pet. Perhaps he's simply found a new lead. You can hardly blame the man for doing his job."

"Last I heard the culprit to the robbery had been caught."

"Didn't you hear? I was attacked outside my shop just before Christmas. It reopened the case."

Blue's frown deepened and Rumplestiltskin's smile broadened. She reached forward and snatched the papers from him. "If that will be all?"

"Not quite," he answered easily and pulled a smaller envelope out of the inside pocket of his jacket. "It's come to my attention that there's a gentleman living on premise that hasn't been put on the lease. Now, I'm within my rights to evict you all and move on." He paused a moment and watched her pale a bit before continuing. "Though I'm feeling generous today. I've written up a bit of paperwork for him here and all he'll need to do is sign it and we'll be well in our way."

Blue studied him for a long moment. "If you're referring to Mr Dawson, I'm afraid he can't see. You'll have to have his lawyer take a look at it."

"My, a blind groundskeeper that can afford to keep a lawyer on retainer. What an oddity."

"Not to worry, Mother Superior," a voice that Rumplestiltskin very much recognized sounded from behind him. He turned to see Caiden standing in a business suit with a briefcase in hand and his mind flashed back to just before Bae had arrived. It hadn't been Peter Kurtz in Mr Gold's shop, not really, but Caiden. The boy had always been good at what he did, even if a bit less ruthless than Magnus. "Mr Dawson just spoke to the sheriff. I'm happy to sit with he and Mr Gold to take a look over the paperwork."

Blue sighed heavily. "As you wish. I'll have this filled out for you shortly, Mr Gold. Good day."

Rumplestiltskin nodded as she turned on heel and stalked back into the convent. Caiden stood waiting with a small smile playing on his lips. "This way," he motioned and the older man limped after him. "It was certainly clever to send the sheriff here to make sure nothing would happen when you arrived, though unnecessary."

"Three attempts on my life in the last few weeks. I hardly find any measures I take to be unnecessary," Rumplestiltskin answered smoothly.

Caiden smirked. "It might be easier if we drop the charade now. At least while we speak."

Dark brown eyes studied the young cleric for a moment and he snorted. "I'm not here for my enjoyment. I'd rather like to get on with this."

His guide nodded slowly and they continued on in silence. It was cold that morning, but at least the winds had died down. Caiden led him out into the graveyard of all places where Magnus stood as if looking at one of the graves. His old enemy straightened as he approached and Rumplestiltskin paused a few yards back, cane positioned in front of him, and he waited.

After a moment Magnus turned sightless, damaged eyes on him. Once they had been as pale as Caiden's, but that was before Rumplestiltskin had stolen his sight from him. Now they were milky white and useless in this land without magic. As the Dark One shifted and felt his bad ankle twinge, he thought of what a pair they made in this world. Two of the most powerful sorcerers that the Enchanted Forest had ever witnessed were reduced to cripples. Well, they did still have their minds, and Rumplestiltskin had always known that was where most of his power lay anyway.

"I understand you've found yourself," Magnus boomed, and even without magic his voice seemed to shake the ground.

"Rumours do spread in this place," he chuckled and took a step closer.

"To what do I owe this visit, Dark One?" Magnus asked and Rumplestiltskin quirked an eyebrow. Straight and to the point. Interesting. He was used to a bit more banter back and forth, but with the late night he'd had before he wasn't going to complain. Down to business.

"Officially, you're living on my property without my permission. You will need to fill these out and agree to the terms." He stepped forward to hand him the documents and leaned in so that if Graham were to pass by in his questionings he wouldn't hear them. "Unofficially, this is your one warning Magnus. My family - both directly and indirectly - are off limits, do you understand me?"

The cleric smiled and Rumplestiltskin resisted the urge to reach out and clobber him with his cane. "And why do you believe that?"

"Because this is between you and me," he answered dangerously. "You dragged them into it. Now you're going to leave them out of it."

The smile broadened. "And what do I get out of it?"

"I don't destroy everyone that you hold dear and strip you of what little this curse has provided to you," Rumplestiltskin answered lowly and waved towards the envelope. "Take a look at my terms - or have Caiden read them to you for all I care - but you'll find that there really is only one option."

"And if I choose not to agree to your terms?"

"Then you'll find out just how much power I truly have in this little town. When you're ready to make that deal, you know where I am."

Magnus snorted as Rumplestiltskin turned and limped off. He might be obstinate now, but it wouldn't last, he knew, not with all the strings he could pull. He had done his research and had been waiting for the moment that he needed to put it to use. He had to make sure Bae knew Emma was safe there or they would leave. If Bae left he might never come back, and Rumplestiltskin would be trapped in this crazy little world without his magic and without his son. That simply wasn't an option.

He didn't expect Magnus to give simply in threat of course. That afternoon Graham would arrest Soren and Silas. He would identify them personally and Marco could back him up - his agreement to do that had put him under the sheriff's protection as well - in that. Those two wouldn't be slipping through as Magnus had managed to do and he would be down a pair of eager thugs. Then he would see what he was dealing with and Magnus would strike a deal. Rumplestiltskin hadn't been fool enough to try to deal for his own safety - that would only have encouraged Magnus to break the deal later - but he could bring the battle into focus between the two of them by hitting him on the closest thing he had to family. One by one he'd pick off those damn clerics until their master gave his word and meant it. One by one he'd tear down his perfect little army. He couldn't get all of them, he knew, but he could find enough that it wouldn't be worth it for Magnus to focus on anyone but him.

TBC

Notes: Well, Texas is finally getting at least something like winter this week. We had snow (that didn't stick) today and ice (that did) on Monday. Now if we could just get snow that would stick. I keep joking that my friends up in New England need to send some of their craziness our way. We'd be happy to take their piles of snow :D

You guys know what happens Sunday? Rumple's back! At least he'll get some screen time as the big bad this season!

Next time - Rumple and Belle get a proper date while Magnus plans his retaliation.

Chapter Text

17.

"You guys need a date night," Emma said abruptly one afternoon.

Belle looked up from where she had been reading on the sofa. "Date night?" she echoed, setting the book down carefully and tilting her head in question.

"Yeah, you know? Dinner, a few drinks, spending time together."

"Rumple and I spend time together," Belle answered, though she was certain that the teenager was getting at something else. She just wasn't sure what.

"Yeah, but Neal's dad never takes you anywhere."

"We go to Granny's all the time."

"That doesn't count."

Belle laughed softly at her and that didn't go over well. Emma lobbed a glare her way and the older woman raised her hands in defence. "What do you mean then?"

"I mean just the two of you and some quality time. Like Neal and I do when we go out sometimes. It's fun. It's been quiet on the crazy-people front. Take advantage while it lasts."

There were many things about that world that Belle simply didn't understand yet. She had done her best to read up on relevant histories and various other books that would help her get a handle on the differences between her own world and the one she had found herself in, but a month and a half into her search she felt like she wasn't even scraping the surface. She spent most of the days that Rumple was at the shop with her nose deep in one of the times, but even his decent sized library had a limit. Ruby had told her about the library a few days before and she had yet to carve out the time to go see it. That day seemed as good as any other.

"Belle?"

Belle looked over to where Emma sat at the other end of the couch, her knees pulled up nearly to her chin and she was watching her like she had called her name several times before. "What is it?" she asked.

"Just thinking about the library in town," the older woman confessed softly and that was obviously not what Emma wanted to hear. "I have a lot of catching up to do," she defended. "I didn't even know what a date was."

Emma snorted. "That's not something you should learn in a book," she teased and unfolded herself.

Belle smiled. "Oh I know, and I understand what you mean by it, just not the phrasing. It's a bit different in our world is all."

The blonde teen leaned forward, curiosity peeking out from behind her walls. "So how did you and Gold meet?"

She still refused to call Rumplestiltskin by his name - unlike those from their own world, Emma wasn't afraid, she simply didn't seem inclined to try to pronounce it correctly and Rumple had gotten very irritated very quickly - and she referred to Baelfire as Neal, though he hardly seemed to mind. Belle liked her though, and she liked how straightforward and honest she was about everything. "We met when he saved my town from ogres."

Emma made a face that was part confusion, mostly disbelief. "Ogres? Like the guys that live under bridges?"

Belle tried not to laugh too hard at that. "No, those are trolls, but I hear they can be quite nasty as well. Ogres are much bigger and were a real problem for some time. Not for Rumple, of course."

"So, what, you just fell head over heels after the guy that saved you?"

"Not quite. I went to work for him as payment and he... Well he grows on you." Belle felt the smile take hold and it just wouldn't go away. "There's a lot more to him than he wishes the world to see."

"Neal's kind of like that. I guess you have to be if you're from another world or something. I still think it's all crazy, but it also makes a little more sense. I think he tried to tell me things in his own way, you know?"

"Lying to the one you love must be one of the most difficult things in the world," Belle mused, her eyes sweeping over all the books on the shelves. As beautiful as the words were, not one of them could do True Love justice. There was nothing quite like being in the middle of it.

"I just know there's a ton more," Emma murmured. "Not because he's hiding it, but he's just been through so much. Like Neverland. Who knew, right? Apparently Disney got it wrong."

Blue eyes stilled on the spine of one book in particular and Belle reached out. It was the same book of stories that they had let Mary Margaret borrow to read to that had woken up their John Doe. His name was David, Belle now knew, and he was Snow White's Prince Charming. He certainly didn't act like it in this world, but he was cursed. Few people acted as themselves in Storybrooke. She had glanced through the book a couple of times and Rumple had agreed that there was something otherworldly about it even before they had seen the stories that the pages told. It seemed to have a habit of popping up just when it was needed, and she thought it might be needed at that moment. She flipped it open and handed it over to Emma.

"What's this? The book Mary Margaret was reading?" the teen asked.

"Best Rumple could guess, he thinks the curse created it. We found some very familiar stories in there."

Emma smiled when she looked at the page Belle had opened to. "Aww," she cooed. "This kid kind of looks like a young Neal."

"That's because it is. At least that's what Rumple said."

Hazel eyes widened. "He's in this book?" she asked, flipping through the story and scanning the pages.

When Belle had brought the book to Rumple he hadn't wanted to talk about the story. He was never shown directly, but Bae was and the story detailed out how the Duke that ruled over their homeland had tried to take a fourteen year old Baelfire away from him to war and what a desperate father had been willing to do to save him. Emma was reading it as fast as she could and Belle pursed her lips together thoughtfully. "Might be best if you don't mention this to Rumple."

"Yeah, I could see where he could get a little touchy about everything being written out so plainly," Emma mused. "I guess it could probably be dangerous if someone got ahold of it, couldn't it? This whole thing about the dagger is a little intense. Why didn't he destroy the pages or something?"

"Because all magical dealings come with a price," a familiar voice said from the doorway and both young women whirled to see Rumplestiltskin standing there. His dark eyes were fixed on the book and he looked very much like he was holding his opinions on the fact Belle had shared it to himself. "Destroying it without understanding it could invite more trouble than I wish to add to the situation."

"Ah," Emma said noncommittally. "Are you going to make me give it back now?"

Rumple chuckled. "My dear, if I was too worried about those in this house reading it I would never have left it on the shelf. I'm very careful about who I let through my front door." He paused, eying it. "I would appreciate it if you kept it here though."

"Sure," the teen answered hesitantly and glanced at Belle. "I'm going to go look through it some more." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Don't forget to ask."

"Ask what?" Rumple murmured as Emma brushed past him.

Belle laughed softly as she stood. "I thought you were at the shop until dinner," she said and crossed the space between them.

A sly smile tripped the corners of his lips. "Not expecting me home so soon?" he teased as she wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him.

"A happy surprise," she assured him.

"Good," he murmured and kissed the top of her head. "Now what are you suppose to ask me?"

She felt her cheeks heat a bit. "I'm suppose to ask you what a date is."

Rumplestiltskin chuckled and tightened his hold on her. "A date, you say?"

Belle felt very silly now. "Emma said that we should have a date night and I wasn't sure of the term and she explained and told me I should ask you about it."

"Well, I do think she may be right," her love said and released her. "How about I make a reservation for us tonight? We can have a proper date."

"I think that sounds perfect, Rumple," Belle answered and he pulled her hand up to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles and she could almost feel the same rush of True Love racing through her system that she did the day they had shared a kiss in the Dark Castle. Here, though, they were free of his curse and from all that brought with it. They could be together and love each other. She might not always understand it, but Belle was quite certain that she liked the land that they were in.

Magnus had sacrificed much over the years, but in doing so he had learned to pick his battles. Caiden had brought word to him just hours after Soren and Silas were arrested and nothing was safe from the lead cleric's furious outburst. Two witnesses had come forward and had identified the twins as the men that had attacked and beaten the so-assumed Mr Gold in the alley behind his shop. They had been locked away and, according to Caiden, were awaiting trial. In one fail swoop Rumplestiltskin had taken them out of the game and had secured Geppetto's wellbeing. Going after the puppet's father now would only bring unwanted attention on them and the Dark One knew that. He had to.

He hadn't given though. He was a cleric of a proud lineage and had fought to destroy one of the most evil curses in all the worlds for over a millennia now. He refused to be bullied into a deal of any kind, even if the Dark One made no move to protect himself with it. That within itself was an uncharacteristic move that set Magnus on edge.

It had taken two weeks for him to bend to the demands. It was only after the eviction notice had been served to the fairies, a notice of debts he knew had been created by the curse had been tacked to his own door, and further debts called on several clerics under his charge, both in and out of his inner circle. In the end, it was the fact that the sheriff had arrived at Caiden's door with a warrant for his arrest on charges of falsifying evidence on a trial that had never actually happened that caused Magnus to sign the Dark One's agreement. It was more of a non-interference agreement. As long as Baelfire or the little savior - and whoever else the Dark One wanted to claim as his family - didn't bother Magnus or his clerics, Magnus would let them be. In the same way, Gold would cease his legal attack on those that followed Magnus.

Like magic, everything quieted down as soon as the terms had been agreed to. The calls over the debts ceased and Caiden was released. Soren and Silas, though, remained where they were, though talk of sending them across the town line for their trial was quite suddenly dropped.

"The threat remains," Reul Ghorm reminded him quietly. "Not just to Soren and Silas, but to all of us. This world is different than our own, and I fear Rumplestiltskin may have been put down in a better place than we were to manipulate it."

Magnus growled lowly, hands gripping at the desk in which he stood at. "I will not be out maneuvered. Have you found the puppet yet?"

"Pinocchio is not responding," the Blue Fairy answered softly.

"Not since we lost our leverage on him."

She was frowning. He could practically hear it. "Perhaps we should never have used his father against him to begin with."

"And how do you suppose that we would have gotten what we need from him?"

"We would have found a way. Good doesn't need leverage."

Magnus snorted. "You forget yourself, Reul Ghorm, and you forget who you are speaking to. I have known you many, many years and I am no fool. I know the lengths you are willing to go to in order to achieve what you set out for."

"Some things are necessary for the greater good, but-"

"If it is indeed the greater good, then anything may become necessary if it is to reach it. Don't underestimate my resolve. Rumplestiltskin will die, even if I have to burn the worlds to make it happen."

"There are some things that I hope even you wouldn't sacrifice," Blue snapped tightly. "If you break this deal with him, if you go after his family, he will go after yours. He has already proven that much."

The question hadn't caught him entirely off guard. In fact, Bae had brought it up to him while they had been at the shop and teased him for not really knowing what to do in the situation. It wasn't like dating was a tradition in the Enchanted Forest, not like it was in Storybrooke. It wasn't like their relationship would have allowed for it anyway, but that little fact remained unspoken.

Rumplestiltskin had made the arrangements - he even had made a trip over to Moe French's flower shop and had dealt with excuses he hadn't asked for - and thought he had everything in order, but he couldn't have been prepared for the rush he felt as she made her way down the stairs in a new blue dress, hair loose around her shoulders, and a shy smile tilting her lips. Emma hovered just behind, smirking like the whole event had been her doing. He must have been staring, though, because Belle shifted a little self consciously. "Is it too much?" she asked, looking down at what must have been a new dress. "I wasn't quite sure where we were going or what we were doing."

"It's perfect," Rumplestiltskin said quickly and tried to regain control of himself. Belle certainly wouldn't want to be on the arm of a stammering fool that evening. "You look lovely." He swallowed hard and offered her the collection of roses that he'd bought earlier and her smile lit the room just as it had all those years ago when the beast she had been so determined wasn't quite so bad had given her a single rose. "If you'll have them," he echoed the words from back then softly and he hadn't thought her grin could widen.

"Thank you, Rumple," she answered and tipped up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. "They're beautiful."

Rumplestiltskin was certain that he was going to stumble over anything further that he tried to say, so he kept his mouth shut. He was a bundle of nerves and all rather suddenly.

"Have fun," Bae offered from the door with a wink that was not helpful. At all.

Once they were in the car Belle giggled. "Let me guess, Bae put you up to this as much as Emma encouraged it?"

Rumplestiltskin ducked his head a bit as the engine came to life and the heater struggled to warm the car. "He mentioned it, but I'd say it's past time." While his curse wasn't very loud in the Land Without Magic, its influence over the past centuries had coloured the way he approached things in life. He hadn't been ready for an outside influence to remind him that perhaps he should remember that a human man resided under the curse, at least not when Belle had first come to the Dark Castle. His son, though, didn't let any height of wall deter him from reminding his papa that the self-focused, self-preserving reaction years under his curse had instilled in him wasn't always the way to go. Bae tried to be as subtle about it as he knew how, but often, like that afternoon when he had had very bluntly told his father that he shouldn't keep Belle cooped up in the house, he told him exactly what he needed to hear. It made him wonder if he might have balanced himself out a little bit if he'd managed to hold onto Baelfire in the early days of his curse. If his wonderful boy could have talked him out of the murderous rages that took hold. They could have lived a very different life if he had.

"Well, I'm excited," Belle confessed. "I attended a few balls during my engagement to Gaston, but I always felt more like a prop than someone he was interested in getting to know and to care for."

Rumplestiltskin snorted. He had his own opinions on Gaston, but there was no reason to sour the night with that.

"I'm not sure I knew there was anywhere else to eat besides Granny's."

"There are a few limited options. Bella Notte is what passes for the fancy restaurant."

"I suppose in a town where happy endings don't exist there's not a great deal of need for a place like that, is there?" she whispered sadly as they pulled into a parking spot in front of the restaurant.

Rumplestiltskin frowned a little. "I suppose not."

Belle reached over and took hold of his hand, squeezing it. "Good thing we're not under it. We'll find ours, and hopefully the curse will break soon and everyone else can find theirs as well."

"You're too good for me," he murmured and his love leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"Don't say that. You're not nearly as terrible as you pretend to be. Perhaps not even as much as you think you are."

He didn't dare disagree with her again on it so he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it before opening his door and moved around to take her arm. She took it readily and they walked into the restaurant together.

Rumplestiltskin had never actually eaten at the little Italian place before. He stopped by like clockwork every month to collect rent, but had never stayed. Bae had taken Emma there on New Year's Eve, though, and had seemed to like it. The bartender - who was also the owner - offered a short, rather nervous nod as they followed the young lady that showed them to their seats and came to greet them personally.

"Mr Gold, I saw your name on the reservations. I hope everything will be to your liking. If you need anything, all you need to do is ask."

"Thank you."

Belle, for her part, looked impressed. "He's friendly."

"He's the owner. Likely he's frightened I'll raise their rent if the food is bad."

That brought a laugh from her. "You wouldn't, would you? Not really?"

"Well, I suppose that depends on how bad it was," Rumplestiltskin teased and she smiled.

"I have faith that it will be excellent. Perhaps you'll even lower their rent because of it?"

He chuckled. "There you go giving me far too much credit again, my dear."

The waiter came, took their order, and left again. Belle chattered on pleasantly about Storybrooke and the learning curve that it had turned out to be. She was almost through the books Rumplestiltskin kept in the house - impressive, but he'd seen how she could get when there was knowledge to be learned - and thought she might look into trying to find a way to get into the library to see what she could find stored away in there.

"I'm sure I can find the key to get in," he offered, the first words he had spoken since she had started talking. He had taken advantage of the pause that came with sipping at her wine to slip in, but apparently it was just the right thing to say. Her bright eyes lit just a little more.

"Really? Can you really, Rumple?"

Well, at least he could manage to do a few things right. Maybe he could continue to learn. "Of course. I'll reach out to the appropriate people in the morning. If all goes well, you'll have access by lunch."

Belle was nearly bouncing with excitement. She managed to get it under control as the owner walked up to the table to personally deliver the food. "Thank you," she whispered.

Rumplestiltskin smiled. "For you, anything," he said softly.

Bae wished he could say that he and Emma had set up his papa and Belle's date for completely unselfish reasons, but he couldn't quite lie to himself that well. They were downstairs, curled into each other in front of the fireplace and enjoying the quiet. Magnus had remained quiet after whatever threats Rumplestiltskin had levelled at him, and while they all knew it wouldn't last, it was at least a night that they could enjoy the temporary peace.

"So Regina cast the curse, right?" Emma asked as she leaned heavily back into him and he wrapped his arms around her. "Why doesn't she just rewrite his memory or something?"

"I don't think she can," Bae murmured.

"Can we just shove him over the town line? You said no one could leave. Maybe he'd catch on fire or something?"

He tried not to laugh, but failed and paid the price for it. She jabbed him hard enough in the ribs that he choked on the laugh. "Seriously, you watch too many movies."

"Okay Mr Son of Rumplestiltskin, tell me what would happen then."

"Well I don't know. It's not like I'm going to go grab the first cursed person I can find and toss them over the line."

"Maybe you and I could bait Magnus into following is across," she said thoughtfully.

"Papa would kill me if we tried to bait Magnus into anything," Baelfire sighed.

"I guess I just don't get why, with the crazy amount of power they have between them, your dad and Regina haven't wrapped this up yet."

"They're biding time. They can twist the curse to do a lot, but not everything, and Magnus has a lot of people willing to die for him. People that we don't know who they are here. That, and it wouldn't do a lot of good to do something too obvious and have the whole town turn on them."

"Yeah, I guess I could see that. It's just… He can't keep him hedged in forever," Emma said quietly. "You going to be okay with whatever he has to do to end this?"

Bae pulled in a deep breath as she shifted around to meet his eyes. His papa was capable of some truly horrific things, but he'd always said that he needed to do them to keep them safe. Now that seemed to be true.

Even so, he didn't want to see anyone that was innocent get hurt, and sometimes - at least when he was young - his papa could get carried away. "I won't let him lose himself to it, but I'll do my best not to hold what he thinks has to be done against him either."

Emma nodded thoughtfully, but if she was going to follow up with anything it was lost to the sound of a car door shutting outside. Her eyes grew wide. "They're home early."

Bae glanced at the clock on the wall. "Nah. It's later than we thought. C'mon, let's give them some privacy."

"Too old for childhood trauma?" Emma asked with a suggestive grin.

"Yes."

She probably shouldn't have had that last glass of wine, Belle decided as she stubbed her toe on a loose brick and nearly fell face first. She was far from drunk, certainly, but a little less steady than she had proven to be in the heels that were so fantastic in this world. Rumple reached a hand out to her and steadied her, and to be honest she didn't want him to let go. She didn't want to walk into that house and for him - the utter gentleman that he had been since she had regained her memories and before - to walk her up to her room and kiss her goodnight before returning to his own.

The warmth of the inside of the house hit her rather suddenly and she looked around. Lights had been left on for them and she could hear the crackling of the logs from the fireplace in the sitting room. She shrugged Rumple's coat from her shoulders and handed it to him, letting him put it up on the rack. He looked a bit chilled, but didn't bother to say so as he turned soft brown eyes on her. "So, what did you think of the date?"

Belle smiled and took his hands in her own. "I loved it," she said and tipped up, pressing a kiss to his lips. She felt his fingers tighten around her own, and she sank back down. "Does it have to end?"

"It's getting rather late," he said reluctantly. "I do need to get some work done tomorrow, especially if you want to go look at your library."

"My library?" she echoed.

A small smile perked his lips. "Well, it's been closed. No one else has made any sort of claim on it. I suspect you're best suited for the job. If you want it, that is."

When he had told her that he would get her the key, she had assumed that she would have a chance to look around and possibly even to grab a few books to take home with her. Now, though, it sounded as if she would have the run of the place. She could spend her days sorting through the tomes while Rumple was in the shop and find out everything that she didn't know about this world. She could open it up as a place where children could come read and people could come to learn. Few things could make her happier, and he handed it to her as if it were nothing. Belle launched herself forward, nearly taking him off his feet in her excitement. "Thank you!"

He chuckled as he regained his balance and wrapped an arm around her. "Well, I said you'd have it, didn't I? And aren't I a man of my word?"

Belle giggled as she kissed his nose. "Always," she assured him. Their eyes met and he smiled. There was always so much more behind his smiles than one could see on the surface, but even if it took the rest of their lives she was willing to peel back the layers that life had him hidden under to find the man beneath.

"To bed with you," he murmured and started forward, his fingers laced with hers as they climbed the stairs.

When they reached the top, though, Belle stopped. "Rumple?"

He paused, looking a bit tired when he turned. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"I don't want it to end."

He blinked at her and slowly understanding seeped into his expression. She thought she might have even seen him turn just a little red in the cheeks. "Alright," he said hesitantly.

"Give me just a moment." Belle didn't give him a chance to say no before she darted into the room and slipped into her pajamas. It only took a moment, but by the time she had made it back out he was already in his room. The door remained opened just a little, though, and she pushed it enough to step inside. He had managed to change as well and was seated on his bed, looking exhausted. He smiled for her, though, and she returned it as she moved forward.

"Belle, I just want to make sure-" he started, but she never let him finish. Instead she bent to kiss him. His hands came up, fingers tangled into her hair as the kiss deepened and she gave a short laugh as she toppled into the bed with him.

"I love you," she told him firmly when they broke for air, their eyes locked. "I'm sure of that."

TBC

Notes: Because, damn it all, they needed a date! Have I mentioned how much I love Rumbelle fluff? I love Rumbelle fluff.

So, I have a confession to make: a different fandom plot bunny has been gnawing at my ankle. It's a vicious little thing, but I'm managing to punt it off with short stories rather than an epic long one... at least until I finish BtW. If anyone likes Blacklist, the collection is under the title Truth in the Lies.

Next time: The brief time of peace between Rumple and his enemies comes to an end.

Chapter Text

18.

Morning came particularly early, but Belle had never been a morning person. Habits of reading just before bed and getting lost in the book until the wee hours of the morning did not make for an early riser. Even when she worked for Rumple in the Dark Castle, he was constantly complaining, even though he never took the initiative to wake her up. He let her sleep and then complained. Her favourite was when he had started waiting breakfast on her, likely just to complain that it was cold by the time she arrived.

That was why she was a little surprised to wake to a dark room that morning. She blinked drowsily, trying to gain her bearings. A soft wimped from next to her in the bed caught her attention and she sat up. She was in Rumple's room and he seemed to be fighting against a nightmare of some kind. Belle reached out carefully, not quite sure how to wake him without adding to whatever terrors he was trying to face down. He was twisted up in the sheets and as her eyes adjusted to the shadows she saw how his brows drew together. "Rumple?" she whispered, touching his arm carefully.

Dark eyes flew open as he came awake. For a moment he didn't seem to know where he was or why there would be someone waking him, but as they focused in on her recognition followed. "Belle," he whispered, his voice a bit scratchy.

"Hey," she greeted him and leaned over to kiss his forehead. "You were having a nightmare." A frown tilted her lips downward, and she reached her hand up and rested the palm of it against his cheek. "And you're warm. Are you feeling well?"

He made a noncommittal sound and burrowed down a bit under the blankets, looking more than a little miserable. Belle frowned and smoothed back his hair. "Just try to get more sleep. Do you need anything?"

Rumplestiltskin shook his head and closed his eyes. He looked so very human in that moment that if he hadn't appeared as if he felt so terrible it would have made Belle smile. Right then, though, her thoughts were focused on helping him to feel better, so she pressed a kiss to his shoulder and slipped out of the bed, grabbing his robe from the back of the bathroom door before padding downstairs to see what they had that she could make for him.

Belle had become more accustomed to the odd noises that the house made over the month and a half that she had been there, so the heater kicking in and the house settling didn't cause her too much worry anymore. There was a strange noise coming from the living room that early morning, though, and she crept in as quietly as she could.

Blonde hair peeked over the top of the sofa facing the television and Belle rounded to see Emma curled up. She didn't look much happier than Rumple had. "Are you sick too?"

The teen glanced over as if she had heard her, just hadn't bothered to look over. "I think I ate something funny."

Belle frowned. "Rumple woke up ill this morning. I hope we're not passing something around."

"Wild night?" Emma teased and Belle rolled her eyes at the implication.

"I was going to make some tea. Would you like some?"

"Yeah, sure. Maybe it'll help." Emma unfolded herself from the couch and held onto the afghan that was wrapped around her shoulders.

"You're not running a fever or anything, are you?"

Emma shook her head. "Nah. I've just been feeling a little funny the last few days. I don't think it's anything."

Belle shrugged, putting the kettle on. She watched the teen out of the corner of her eye, but didn't say anything. She wasn't showing any of the symptoms that Rumple was, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't. His had come on very suddenly, so it didn't mean that they weren't all at risk for it.

She was filling the tea diffuser with loose leaves when the kettle began to sing and Emma plucked it off the stove. She never had a chance to pour the hot water in, though, as a crashing sound from upstairs caught both of their attention.

Belle took off in a sprint, Emma not far behind her. The older woman took the steps two at a time and slammed to a stop at the bedroom door, not wanting to wake Rumple if Bae had made the ruckus.

"What was that?" Baelfire asked from down the hall, looking like he'd been woken from a deep sleep. Well, that answered that question.

Rumple was laid out on the floor between the bed and the bathroom, curled in on himself and shaking violently when they entered. Belle went immediately to him, fingers pushing his hair back and checking to find that his fever had grown worse in the few minutes she had been downstairs. She couldn't get him to turn, though, and the harder she tried, the tighter he curled, coughing painfully and shuddering.

"Papa?" Bae called softly as he knelt on his father's other side. He reached out and took one of his hands and Rumple latched on. "Hey, c'mon. Talk to me, please?"

Rumplestiltskin tensed and Belle tried to catch Bae's eyes. Those brown eyes, so like his father's, were fixed on the trembling man. "Hurts," Rumple managed and Bae reached out with his free hand to brush grey streaked hair out of his face.

"It'll be okay, Papa," he promised and looked up to meet Belle's eyes. "We have to get him to the hospital."

"No," came the raspy response.

"Papa, you were fine last night and on the floor writhing this morning. We need to-"

"No," Rumplestiltskin answered only a little stronger. He may have offered more, but another coughing fit took hold and from the expression he wore, Bae didn't miss the flecks of red against Rumple's hand either.

Belle straightened. "I'm afraid you don't get to say no this time," she said firmly. "I'll go get his coat. Emma, warm up the car?"

"Yeah, sure," the blonde answered, gaze still fixed on Rumple who had stopped trying to argue.

"I'll stay with him," Bae promised softly and Belle nodded. She forced herself to turn and take the stairs, pulling Rumple's robe around her own shoulders tightly as she all but flew back down the stairs.

Baelfire was no expert on medicine, but he had had plenty of experience with dangerous illnesses when he was young. The village he had grown up with was no stranger to death, whether by ogre attack or, as it often was during the bitter winters, by sickness. As a child, not too long after his mother had abandoned them, he had nearly lost his papa to one particular sickness that went around and had done everything in his limited power to keep him fighting. He had begged and pleaded as only a child could, never quite sure if his father had even heard him.

He felt like he was doing that at that moment as he sat on the floor of his papa's bedroom and held tightly to his hand. "This isn't natural, is it?" he whispered.

"No," Rumplestiltskin rasped.

"Magnus gets to people," Bae echoed the warning given just after he'd come to town. "The hospital. Will it be safe? What about Whale?"

"Hate him."

"Yeah, I get that, but can Magnus get to him?"

"Could, but not likely." He pulled in a rattling breath. "Too many medical debts. Would be... forgiven if he had."

"Okay, then you're going. I just got you back. I'm not losing you now."

His papa frowned a little, squeezing his fingers. "Not going," he promised roughly.

It sounded like another argument at first, but the meaning behind to words seeped in and Bae gave a tight smile. "Good."

Belle came back up with her own long jacket and scarf leaving only the hems of her pajama bottoms showing. She handed Baelfire his and let him slip it on until they worked together to get his papa down the stairs and to the car. They had to stop a couple of times, but they got him in. The trip to the hospital was tensely silent with only weak coughs and hushed whispers to break it.

By the time they reached it Rumplestiltskin had gone frighteningly quiet between Bae and Belle in the back seat. Baelfire pushed down the rising panic for what felt like the millionth time as they managed to get him out of the car and inside, people swarming them as they came through the door. Someone had called ahead. Good. He began following them back to the back, but a hand latched onto his upper arm and stopped him mid step. "I'm afraid you can't go back there," the nurse, a man standing several inches taller than Bae and broad across the shoulders, said gruffly.

"Like hell I can't. That's my father."

"Dr Whale will take good care of him," the man promised. "If you could fill out some paperwork as his next of kin?"

Bae felt a sick knot grow in his stomach as he tried to look past the paperwork being waved in his face. "He'll be okay, though, right?"

"They'll take care of him," Belle promised at his side and she took the paperwork. "He'll have it over in a few minutes. Thank you."

The man looked uncertain at first, but finally nodded and released Baelfire's arm. He pulled away irritably and shot him a glare before following Belle over to the stiff-backed chairs.

"It's not his fault," she murmured reasonably.

"I'm well aware of whose fault it is," Rumplestiltskin's son snapped. "This has to end. I don't know how, but it has to. Magnus has come too close just since I got here and-"

"One step at a time," she promised as she sat next to him, Emma on his other side.

Bae looked between the two women and the piles of paperwork in his lap, feeling the waves of panic pushed back a little at least. The dam wasn't steady and it was littered with cracks and holes where the terror threatened to sweep through it, but as Emma leaned in, taking his free hand in hers and Belle offered a reassuring smile, he loosed a breath.

"You really are your father's son," Belle said softly. "All panic first."

"You really think he's going to be okay?"

"I know he is. I didn't just get back to him to lose him. Neither did you, did you?"

"No."

"See? We'll fight for him and even Magnus can't take him from us."

Baelfire nodded slowly and leaned into Emma at his side. She had her head propped on his shoulder now and he pressed his temple against blonde hair. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to as her fingers tightened around his and he snatched up the pen to jot down what he knew of the information that they had requested.

He was drowning in the memories. He had been tied down and fastened into place, the old cleric looming over him with sightless eyes and a sneer that just didn't end. He could remember blinking up and smarting off in the way he had so often done when handling an enemy of any kind back home, but he'd found out very quickly that, no matter how many times they went back and forth, he should never underestimate Magnus for any reason.

The cleric had ripped into him, pushing a spell through a hole he'd made in the Dark One's scaly skin and his howls had likely been heard for miles around. The pain had been unbearable and he had never thought that he could feel anything like it again. At least he hadn't thought he could and live through it.

He wasn't free from it yet.

A terrible scream, much like the ones in the memories, ripped through him, and he couldn't have stopped it if he'd tried. His whole body was rebelling against him, fighting him and in turn he was fighting his restraints. He needed to get out of there. He needed to escape. Magnus was damned determined to kill him, and if he lay around and let him, well, then no one would be around to keep his family safe, would they? He had to fight.

"... Mr Gold," one voice managed to work its way through the sound of pounding in his head. It wasn't Magnus. He wasn't in the Enchanted Forest with the cleric forcing ancient, light magic through his system as he'd once tried to do to break him. Magnus used much less direct approaches in this Land Without Magic.

Poison, his mind supplied. It really was no different, in the end.

Every breath of air that he managed to drag down his throat and into his lungs felt like it was mixed with ash and embers. He was burning, and with each passing moment, he was certain the flames would overtake him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he was in the hospital and that Bae and Belle had won out in their arguments, but that hardly mattered right then. In that moment, all he could feel were the hands reaching out of the darkness, latching onto his arms and holding him down. There were voices, too, though he couldn't make out the words. He was fairly certain, at least, that Magnus was not one of them.

"Hold him," one voice cut through the thick muck of his mind and he managed to pull away from at least one set of hands. Dark eyes flew open and he saw white surrounding him and finally a face that bent down in his. "Mr Gold, you need to hold still."

They were stronger than he was, and if his fever weren't so high he might have been able to put together that they worked for the hospital. But it was and he didn't, so he fought them, because that was all Rumplestiltskin knew how to do. He was a survivor, and right now he knew that he was under a full attack by his enemy. It varied at any given moment if he remembered exactly how that attack was being dealt, though.

Magnus had gotten to someone, he realized in a moment of clarity. Likely the owner of the restaurant, by the way that he'd been sputtering and stammering that night. They'd slipped something into his food or his drink and now it was ripping him apart from the inside out. If he had had access to his magic he would have known it was coming and he could have fought it. As it stood now, he was entirely reliant on the idiot that had received his medical degree from a curse.

The voices were fading again and Rumplestiltskin was floating in pain. Whatever they'd given him seemed strong enough to disconnect him from being able to trash about, but not enough to pull him away. He was finally bringing his own mind back under control, if not his body, and was able to fully remind himself of where he was and piece together what had happened for all the good it did him. He forced his eyes open again and through the fog he saw Whale bending over.

"Easy, Mr Gold. We'll have you back on your feet in no time," the doctor promised.

Rumplestiltskin opened his mouth, though what he would have told him he didn't know. A cleric had poisoned him to end a grudge that he'd had against he and his predecessors for centuries. No, that likely wouldn't have gone over well at all. Whatever he'd been trying to say, though, came out in a gasping cough and he felt himself sinking back into darkness.

The girl was a menace. She had known that from the beginning, but now it had taken root like rotten fruit threatening to spread its poison and destroy everything that Regina had put together. She didn't have any particular qualms with Rumple finding his Happy Ending and whatnot. She had her curse, her revenge, and if he wanted to curl up and play house in this horribly quaint little land, she would withhold most judgement. Most of it, as long as it didn't get in the way of said curse and said revenge, which it now was.

She and Rumple could have handled Magnus if he'd just focused. First was his son, but she could hardly complain about that. Baelfire or Neal or whatever the boy wanted to be called these days had woken the Dark One up. Inadvertently, he'd given the Evil Queen a fighting chance, because she knew that she was the next one on the cleric's chopping block. No, she didn't mind the son, it was that damn maid that made her blood boil. She was a distraction. She was the reason that Rumplestiltskin lay dying in a hospital bed now.

Regina didn't have room for anything else as she seethed over the thoughts, stalking down the hallway and towards the room number Neal had told her when he'd called with the news. She was livid, and if Belle weren't careful, she might find herself on the wrong end of a particularly nasty accident while her lover was in the hospital, just as long as it couldn't be linked back to the mayor. It wouldn't do her any good to rid him of distraction if it turned his rage on her instead.

"Come to see Gold?"

The Evil Queen startled, blinking owlishly at the blonde teen who sat in a chair in the hallway. Emma Swan looked tired and worried as she tilted her head back towards the door to her left. "Neal's in there with him. Belle too. Dr Whale doesn't know what kind of poison it is. He said he's never seen anything like it."

"I'm sure he hasn't," Regina said tightly. She knew why Neal had called her, and it wasn't an expression of loyalty. There had been hope in Rumple's son's voice on the phone, even if he didn't say it. He hoped that a sorceress from the Enchanted Forest could help reverse whatever Magnus had done.

"You think it's something from… What did Neal call it?"

"From back home?" Regina asked quietly, and Emma nodded. "I wouldn't put it past the sneaky bastard to have slipped something through. He shouldn't have been able to come through himself, so there's no telling what other structures of the curse he bent to his own will." She was boiling now. This was her curse, dammit. It was meant to provide her satisfaction, her revenge, not to provide a path for some self righteous cleric to kill off her former mentor. If Rumplestiltskin was going to die, it was going to be her decision, not Magnus'.

"You know a lot about magic, right? Could you reverse it or something?" The teen chewed on her bottom lip and her hazel eyes were fixed on Regina. "Neal just got his dad back."

Some of the irritation started to taper away and the queen's shoulders drooped a little. Somehow it was different coming from this girl who had just barely begun to believe in magic. She had every reason to distrust Regina from what she had seen so far, but she seemed more than willing to continue on with their strange little friendship. "I know. Let's see what can be done, shall we?"

Emma nodded and they moved into the room. Neal was slumped in a chair on the furthest side of the bed, Belle in the one closest to the door. She had hold of Rumple's hand like she hadn't let go since she had come into the room, her thumb working its way over his knuckles and along the back of his hand. She glanced over when Regina and Emma entered, offering a tired smile. "Hey," she whispered and pressed a kiss to the Dark One's hand before she released it to stand.

Regina took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. At least one of them could. She didn't have any distractions. Snow White had seen to that years ago. "How is he?"

Belle's lips tilted downward and her clear eyes shifted back to look at Rumple. "Not good. Dr Whale can't figure out what it is."

"So I hear," the queen murmured and stepped forward. Without a word the bookworm shifted out of her way and Regina couldn't help but smirk a little. She might be a brave little thing, but if she wanted to save her dear Rumple, she would have to make way for those that could. Being needed in such a way wasn't quite the same feeling that being feared gave off, but hey, she'd take what she could get at this point.

Rumplestiltskin was unnervingly pale against the white sheets. They hadn't shoved a tube down his throat to help him breathe, which was a good sign, but an oxygen mask was fitted carefully over his nose and mouth, pushing air down his throat and into his lungs. His brows were slightly drawn together, even in sleep, but his fingers remained lax against the sheets at his sides. She reached forward, thinking at first that the heat was just fever, but the monitor didn't show that it burned quite as hot as it felt to the touch. Rumple had always told her that someday she would regret focusing too narrowly on her studies, and in that moment she had to quietly agree with him.

"Any idea?" Neal asked groggily from his chair. When he'd woken enough to notice that she had arrived, Regina didn't know.

"No matter how powerful Magnus is, he couldn't bring a spell through to enact against Rumple here. It would have to be mixed chemically."

"So a potion?" the Dark One's son asked.

"Of sorts."

"Can you counter it?" Belle murmured.

"That's the problem. If it's not from this world, I'm not sure how easily an antidote can be made in this world." She loosed a breath, gaze sweeping over the sleeping pawnbroker. "Rumple would know, but he's rather useless right now."

"Magnus would know," Neal growled, unfolding himself from his seat and Regina blinked. The young man was decently well mannered, although he had a snarky streak a mile long, but there were times when he looked and acted a great deal like his father. The way his eyes darkened in that moment, his jaw tightened, and his posture took on someone ready and willing to move in the direction that they needed to go reminded her of her former mentor in the moment just before someone's life came to an abrupt end.

"Yeah, well, what are you going to do? Walk up and ask him?" Emma grumbled, hand waving in the air as she mimicked. "'Hey, Mr Sorcerer, sir, could you please reverse whatever the hell you did to my dad? That would be awesome.' Pretty sure he's going to say no."

Neal - or perhaps Baelfire really was the more appropriate name in that moment - sidestepped his girlfriend. "I didn't say I was going to ask."

Regina blinked as the young man swept around her and out the door. Emma took a breath where she was. "I'm going to go make sure that Graham doesn't have to pick him up for homicide. Can you guys call if anything changes?"

"Of course," Belle agreed and Emma turned to look directly at the Evil Queen.

"If he could figure it out, so can you."

"I'll do what I can," she promised the teen and watched her go.

"Emma is very fond of you," Belle said slowly and Regina found herself under that uncomfortable, clear blue gaze. She didn't like it one bit.

"Yeah, well, no one said the girl was bright, did they?"

"She has a good heart. Please, don't let her down."

"Listen, I can only do what I can do for your boyfriend. I need him alive too, you know."

Belle shook her head. "That's not what I mean. I know you'll do what you can for Rumple. I mean… don't push Emma away. I haven't known her very long, but I get the impression that she's a bit like Rumple and probably a bit like you. She doesn't trust easily, but she trusts you."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but I hope she's right."

Regina snorted out a small laugh. "Me too," she whispered, and somehow she meant it.

TBC

Notes: Hey, guys! I am so sorry for the inconsistency as of late. I've had a couple of emails making sure I'm still alive over here, and I am! I promise! Life has been super busy lately and that has been coupled with an incredibly stubborn muse. When my brain gets like that, I often tend to go and do something else, because the writing ends up getting scrapped anyway. I love this story too much to put up crappy chapters. No matter what my muse does, I refuse to let this story drop. I know where it's going and I'm excited to get there, but it may just take a bit more than my usual outpouring of writing that I usually have with Once fanfiction :)

Next time - Regina looks for a way to save Rumple while Bae goes to confront Magnus.

Chapter Text

19.

Emma had never seen him so angry before. True, she knew that he was worried about his dad, but Neal was livid. It was like Regina's arrival had sparked something, and that her affirmation that whatever it was that this Magnus guy had force fed Gold was from their… world - she still had trouble with that - set him off in a beeline with one goal in mind. What that goal was, she wasn't entirely sure. She wasn't sure she wanted to be there when he found said goal, either.

But she was going to be. Because she loved him.

If she thought that the search would end within the hospital walls, she was mistaken. She followed her boyfriend down the steps and he continued to storm down the street. She was partially relieved that he didn't make a go for the car, because Emma was fairly certain that having him behind the wheel right then would be a bad choice for anyone not quick enough to get out of his way.

Finally, they rounded the corner on the edge of the main street and as far as the blonde was aware the only thing in the new direction he was taking was the graveyard and some old convent. "Neal?"

He turned, almost as if he hadn't realized that she had been trailing behind him the whole way. His eyes were dark, his shoulders set back, and it looked like he might boil over at any time. "You should go back to the hospital," he said tightly.

"And what are you going to do? Barge into a church and demand to see their groundskeeper? Those poor ladies won't even know what's happening. If you don't scare them to death you'll end up going to jail."

"They'll know," he answered and turned back around.

Emma's hazel eyes drifted up the path and towards the nunnery just beyond. It was quiet and peaceful, set just off from the graveyard and the only sign of movement she could see was one nun sweeping the front porch. The teenager gave a small sound of panic when she realized that Neal was stalking right towards her.

"I need to speak to Mother Superior," he demanded leaving no room for argument.

The nun with the broom blinked owlishly at him. "I…. Is there there something we can help you with, young man?"

"Yeah. Mother Superior. Or I could just bypass her all together and see Magnus, but that's really up to you."

The poor nun was thoroughly confused, but the door behind her opened and apparently Neal's voice had been loud enough to draw the attention of others. The lead nun was among them and she shooed the others off immediately, turning a tight smile to the two young people on her steps. "Baelfire," she greeted and Emma let out a startled sound as Neal took the remaining two steps and the nun stumbled back in the wall.

"Where is he?"

"I'm sorry, but who are you-"

"Magnus."

She swallowed hard and turned dark eyes towards the blonde teen a few steps gaze lingered for a moment as she regained her composure, but there was something strange there. It was only a flicker, and it was pushed aside instantly, but it left Emma feeling uncomfortable. "I'm afraid I don't know his exact location-" His hand came up when she tried to twist around him and pushed her back against the wall.

"Don't lie to me. He poisoned my father. Where the hell is he?"

"Neal, she's a nun," Emma tried to reason. Neal had a temper, she knew, even if he kept it pretty well and it was never directed at her. She'd seen the stray idiot at a bar rial it before, but she'd never seen him like this. This was the expression of a man that was desperate for answers. Desperate enough to attack a nun, apparently.

"She's the Blue Fairy," he corrected and turned his dark gaze back to her. "And she's working with him."

"Come on, really? A nun working with the bad guy? Anyway, aren't fairies good or something like that. That's what all the fairytales say, even..." She trailed off, realizing in the last second that Gold likely wouldn't want her commenting on the book of fairytales to anyone outside of their closely knit group.

Mother Superior looked around to Emma, her dark eyes meeting hazel ones and they were pleading. Whatever strange terror she'd felt when she first laid eyes on her was pushed behind a wall of some kind and Emma knew this woman was lying. She could spot a con a mile away. "He's confused. Please, I'm not sure-"

Neal snorted. "You don't get to play innocent anymore. Where is he, Blue?"

"If you're looking for me, boy, you've found me. No need to take poor Mother Superior off her feet."

Emma turned as Neal did, finding a man with white hair standing and staring through him, rather than at him. His eyes were pale, sightless, and in his hand he held a stick meant for feeling out the path in front of him. He might have been imposing once, but now age and likely deteriorating health had hunched his shoulder, leaving him leaned forward as he walked with the help of a young man by his side. He didn't look like much, this old, blind groundskeeper that Neal seemed to have met before, but something was off about him. Neal tensed at her side and took a step between them like he was worried something might happen. She didn't move. After his meltdown a couple weeks before over the danger he thought she was in, she didn't dare.

The man at Magnus' side stood with squared shoulders, his spine straight enough for them both, and he was dressed in a suit. Where Magnus' gaze was vague, his was sharp and direct, and aimed at Neal. "Baelfire, this is no longer your concern."

Neal's dark eyes narrowed. "Seriously? How do you figure that?"

"Your father made a deal. This is between he and Magnus. As long as you do not level an attack on Magnus, you're safe from this."

"Level an attack?" Emma snorted. "Who do you people think you are? Some sort of cleric mafia or something?"

The tall man's gaze swiveled over to her, but so did Magnus'. For just a moment, if Emma didn't know better, she would have thought he was staring right at her. "Miss Swan," the groundskeeper said, lips thinning into what might have been a smile. It made Emma's skin crawl and Neal positioned himself entirely between them.

"If you think I'm going to just sit here and let you hurt my family - any of my family - you're crazier than I thought."

"Some things are greater than you could wrap your mind around, boy. Stay out of the way."

Neal's lips quirked at the edge and Emma couldn't imagine why he seemed entertained by the obvious threat. Okay, maybe the nun was working with the bad guy, but this bad guy had already proven himself dangerous enough. Her boyfriend didn't seem intimidated though.

"Here's the thing Magnus. You and my dad are very different, but there's one thing you have in common. You both rely on magic way too much. Guess what? This is the Land Without Magic. At least my dad had the courage to meet you face to face with his threats. I think you know you can't win head on against us."

"Caiden, take the girl and kill the Dark One's son."

He still hadn't woken, not that the doctor had given any indication that he would. Somewhere after they'd taken him to the back of the hospital Rumple had slipped so deeply into unconsciousness that by the time that they allowed Belle in to see him again, he'd slipped further than she could reach him. That hadn't meant that she'd been able to leave his side, of course. It had been Bae that had called Regina and Emma that had gone for a change of clothes from the house. Belle had stood watch.

"Miss French?"

Belle turned, finding Dr Whale standing at the door with his notes in hand. He looked like he was at the end of his rounds and more than a little exhausted. She risked a glance back to her sleeping love and stood. Regina would likely be back shortly from her trip to her vault where she hoped to uncover something useful and Belle was counting on Bae and Emma coming back soon without mishap. Until then, she would have to risk stepping away.

She bent and pressed a kiss to his forehead before meeting the doctor at the door. He offered a tired sigh. "I've never seen anything like this," he admitted. "We've run tests, checked blood work... Everything that should give us some indication as to what was used to poison him. There's nothing that we recognize."

"You're saying that you can't help him," Belle breathed.

"We're going to keep trying but... I'm saying you should probably get his son back here to get his affairs in order. It's not looking good." Whale paused and looked a little uncomfortable. "If you need anything..."

"Thank you, Dr Whale," Belle acknowledged and he gave a curt nod. In a place where time didn't move, a doctor would likely get very used to only good news if any came at all. One of the few good things about Storybrooke's curse was that no one really died under it unless someone with a great deal of power made a very conscious effort. Someone like Magnus.

He nodded and turned back down the hall, leaving Belle with a nurse that had slipped by. The man was the same one that held held poor Baelfire back when they first arrived, and he looked just as sleep deprived as the doctor did. "How is he?" she ventured as the man took down Rumple's vital signs.

The nurse grunted, but didn't really acknowledge as he flipped a couple of switches. Belle watched curiously, unsure of what he was doing. She was no expert on the equipment that they used, but she had watched the various hospital staff move in and out since Rumple had been put into the room. No one else had bothered with it like this man was.

A monitor gave a soft sound as it went blank and Belle took a step forward. "What are you doing?"

For the first time since he'd entered, the nurse turned to look at her. "Speeding things up."

Terror swept through her as the man, seemingly unworried by her presence, peeled back the oxygen mask that had been fitted over his nose and pulled the pillow from beneath his head. It didn't take a great leap of imagination for Belle to understand what would come next and she darted forward, her small hands around his much larger arm and she pulled to stop him. "Haven't you people done enough?" she demanded.

The man turned, his light brown gaze falling on her. "Have we done enough?" he asked, surprise flittering across his expression. "Do you know who this is? What he's done?" He paused, studying her. "Of course you don't. This damn curse."

"Rumplestiltskin," Belle answered firmly and revived a startled blink in response. "His name is Rumplestiltskin. He has a son named Baelfire, and I love him, so if you think I'm going to let him go without a fight, you don't know who I am."

"He's the Dark One. He leaves destruction and terror in his path. Manipulation and threats are what he lives by. His very existence is a threat to everything good and-"

"One man?"

He stopped and stared at her. "What?"

"One man is the worse thing you've ever run across?" Belle asked and she was working to keep her anger in check. She was no match for this man physically, but if he had an ounce of sense she might be able to reason with him. Or at least delay. "You sound like you're talking about a monster from a child's bedtime story. Have you ever seen real destruction? Ogres broke into my home, killed my mother, and even when we pushed them back they kept coming. There was no hope and they left destruction in their path. Until Rumple stepped in. He saved us."

"At what price?"

"What does it matter? Where were you people, with your great words and your talk of preserving good? You weren't there. He was. That day he was our hero and to deny that he has the potential for that is to choose to be blind. I know the man beneath the monster. You only know what you've been told."

"I know the truth," he growled.

"Stop right there," a voice said from the door and Belle sun around. Graham stood in the doorway, gun drawn and looking very uncomfortable in the position he was in. Regina stood behind him with her arms crossed over her chest and a smug look plastered across her painted lips.

The nurse froze and glared. "I see you have all sorts of puppets at your disposal, your majesty."

Regina blinked innocently. "I'm not sure what you're referring to, but it would be wise of you to take a step back. No one is killing Mr Gold today."

Belle thought she might have stopped breathing for a moment as the man made his decision. Finally he tossed the pillow to the side and showed both hands to the sheriff. "This isn't over," he warned Regina as Graham slapped cuffs on him and led him out.

"How did you know?" Belle managed as soon as they were gone.

Regina glanced warily behind her. "I've had Graham on standby since I found out he was admitted into the hospital. Where are Neal and Emma?"

"Still not back."

The Evil Queen frowned. "Call them. Get them back here."

"Why?"

"Because there is no cure in Storybrooke. So far I've only found one viable option."

Belle didn't like the sound of that. "What would that be?"

"We're going to have to send Rumple over the town line."

On the list of all the utterly stupid things he'd done, this might have topped it. Bae had let his emotions run away with him and he had barrelled into a situation that he had no exit plan for.

Never break in somewhere unless you know the way out.

Well, he didn't have an out, and even worse, he'd gotten Emma sucked in with him. If she got hurt, he'd never forgive himself. He had been so wrapped up in trying to find a way to save his papa that he'd risked everything without even meaning to.

The nuns remained hidden inside the convent, but several of the clerics could be seen slinking out. Rumplestiltskin may have made a deal, but he wasn't there and Bae and Emma were on their own.

"Don't guess you have that sheriff on speed dial?"

"No, but we have Regina and she does." His dark gaze followed past where Caiden was approaching and to where Magnus was turning to leave. "Hey!" Baelfire shouted. "You don't get to just give an order and leave!"

"Your father and I have a deal," the blind cleric answered with a shrug. "I won't lay a finger on you."

"Son of a bitch," Bae growled and heard Emma dialing her phone. She was positioned behind him and he turned, shoving her towards the graveyard. "Go!"

She took off and he was in her heels, unable to shake the terror that rose up in him, born of centuries of being chased by Lost Boys. Thankfully he and Emma were fast, and he heard her telling Regina they had a problem. Understatement. How had he been so stupid?

"Split up," Bae said as they hit the graveyard, the trees just beyond them. Emma split off left and Bae went right, a yelp of surprise escaping him as he was thrown off his feet by someone slamming into him.

They rolled, Bae catching his attacker in the middle with his foot and shoving hard, using the momentum to flip him over and send him tumbling. He rolled to his knees, crouched and ready, only to see Caiden shaking off the blow and stumbling to his feet. He wasn't a brawler, and anyone could have told that, but Bae knew he'd already severely underestimated the situation once that day. He wouldn't risk doing it again.

The two young men were still, watching each other carefully for a sign of the other's next move. Finally, Caiden dusted at his suit, glancing behind Bae and towards the convent. "Go."

Dark eyes blinked hard. "Say what?"

Caiden sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. "Your death does nothing for us. Leave Storybrooke, pick up the pieces of your life. There's no reason to die here."

"What, you don't follow Magnus' orders?" Bae scoffed.

"There are times when he focuses too much on his anger and too little on the goal."

"So what? You let Emma and I leave? In exchange for what? My father's life?"

Caiden's lips thinned out and he shook his head. "The girl can't go. She has to break the curse. We can't allow her to leave."

"What? You just going to keep her here until the time's right?" He watched the cleric's reaction carefully. No. That had never been their plan, and he'd be damned if he'd let them hurt her. Just like Bae wouldn't leave his papa to these people. He glanced around, finding them alone in the middle of the graveyard. The others had scattered off into the trees, chasing after Emma.

Bae took a step forward and Caiden tensed. He offered a lopsided smile and showed that both hands were empty. "You have any family left?" He watched blue eyes narrow and Bae loosed a breath. "You know, up until recently I would given that same look. I was pissed at my dad. He let me go, dropped me through a hole, and I barely survived those first few months alone. He left me. He abandoned me. I was never going to forgive him." Dark eyes studied the cleric, careful to focus on him and hold his attention. He had it. "I lived for centuries alone. And then I met Emma. Then my papa crossed worlds to find me. You really think I'm going to give up my family just to run? I just got him back and I just found her. There's no way in hell."

Pale blue eyes narrowed. "Then you'll die for nothing," he answered, but then stiffened as Bae's gaze shifted behind him. He didn't get turned all the way around before a thick branch slammed into his temple, taking him fully to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Emma stood grinning. "Family huh?"

"Yeah," he answered a little sheepishly, glancing down at the cleric at their feet. "You okay?"

"Oh yeah. Those guys have nothing on the cops we ran into out in Southern California last summer. Three turns and they lost the trail."

Bae reached forward and pulled her into a crushing hug. "Let's just be thankful they don't have magic."

"Yeah, but if they did your dad and Regina would too. Might make things easier." She paused, looking up at him and he tried not to cringe at the idea. "Speaking of Regina, she gave us an out. Come on."

"An out?"

"Yeah, she said that there's a tunnel system under the town. She said it would let us out into her office. She also said that she has an idea to save your dad."

Bae lit up at the news. It was a crazy little alliance they had found themselves in the middle of, but if there was going to be some kind of battle, he thought he might be more okay with the so-called Evil Queen than he had originally thought he would be. They could save his dad and beat back Magnus. Maybe, just maybe, they could relax a little. The weeks of reprieve had been wonderful, and he knew now that he wanted those. He wanted his family safe and happy more than anything in all the worlds. He would fight however hard he needed to to make it happen.

Regina did not like being backed into a corner, but that was what was happening. She could almost feel the strain on the curse, as if Magnus were fighting her for control. It was subtle, as all changes in it were, but they had to move quickly. A cursed town wouldn't understand or get behind the idea of moving a dying man over the town line. The doctors certainly wouldn't.

"What happens once we cross?" Belle asked, and to her credit her voice didn't tremble. If she were afraid of what was happening she didn't show it. Her clear eyes were determined as she looked through the bags Emma had dropped off earlier and Regina tried to remain unimpressed.

"The curse is designed not to let anyone cross, but Rumple wrote it. With him there, you should be able to cross over. I'll drive to the town line with you to make sure."

Belle paused. "Why?"

The Evil Queen paused. "Why what?"

"Why would you help us get out?"

Regina pulled in a deep breath and glanced at her mentor who lay unconscious. "Because, if I like it or not, he is my best chance to survive this. He knows Magnus like I never could, and if he dies, Magnus will come after me." She set her shoulders back. If the clever little bookworm thought she was going to get beneath the queen's protections and get her to admit some sort of affection for her former mentor, she'd be waiting a long time.

The door to the hospital room opened and both women tensed, relaxing only at the site of Rumple's son and Emma as they came barreling through, covered in dirt and looking entirely conspicuous in the middle of the clean hospital. Emma had said that they had run into trouble, but by the looks of it she'd downplayed the whole affair.

"What happened?" Belle demanded, springing towards them worriedly. Neal's shirt was torn and dirty and Emma looked like she'd waged war with a thorn bush and lost with the scrapes she had against her hands and face.

"Neal decided to face off with this cleric guy and I hit him with a tree branch," Emma said with a shrug.

"Emma said you have a way to save my dad," Neal said, deflecting any questions that Regina might have asked.

"We're taking him over the town line," Belle offered.

"The poison is from the Enchanted Forest," Regina explained. "While we can't reach magic here, the curse is the link. As long as he's here, it will affect him."

"So if we leave he'll be okay?" Neal asked.

"That's the best theory I have. It...should work." It needed to work.

"Well we better get on it. Those guys are out for blood," Emma said, glancing behind her.

As if to back up her, shouting came from down the hall. Regina wasn't going to be able to manipulate the situation much longer. If they were going to go, they needed to do it then. "You'll have to go to the townline on your own. I'll distract them. Get Rumple out."

"Magnus isn't going to hold back, Regina," Neal pressed. "Come with us."

"He's not going to outright kill me. He can't. Without his magic I have the advantage." She paused, knowing that she sounded like she was convincing herself as much as them. "When Rumple wakes up, just be sure to tell him he owes me."

Neal nodded slowly. "I will. You know he'll make good on it. We'll come back for you."

"You better." She squared her shoulders. "Get him and go."

Surprisingly enough, it was Belle that reached out. "Thank you, Regina."

The Evil Queen didn't trust her own voice as she started down the hall. She knew that she was walking straight into trouble. She just hoped her theory was right.

Baelfire had slipped his grasp, taking the girl with him. Magnus had assumed - incorrectly, it would seem, and that was always dangerous for those that surrounded him - that sending Caiden after them would ensure their capture, but the boy had returned with a blackening eye and empty hands. If he weren't raging enough by the situation, word had come in that the Evil Queen had provided the distraction that they needed to whisk Rumplestiltskin over the town line. He was gone, and all the cleric had for his troubles was an angry mayor in their custody. He was seething and Blue stood quietly and hoped that she wouldn't be caught in the eventual explosion.

"This is madness," she said softly, hoping to quietly reach out to any sanity he had left within him.

"Your opinion on the matter no longer concerns me, Reul Ghorm," Magnus responded from his place.

"Don't be a fool," the Blue Fairy answered, her voice pitching up with urgency. "They took him over the town line to cure him. If you bring magic to this place - if you even can - you'll hand him the power of the Dark One as soon as he returns. All of this will be for nothing."

The cleric snorted. "Magic will be more different here than a Dark One can possibly come to grips with so quickly. I will send trackers for him and they will bring him to me."

"Trackers?" Blue echoed, but Magnus ignored the question as if it didn't matter to him at all.

The door opened and two of his clerics dragged a less-than-dignified looking Regina Mills into the room by either arm. "This is outrageous," she snarled. "Do you know who I am here? I'll have you arrested. I'll-"

"No, you will not," Magnus cut her off and motioned for the clerics to bring her closer.

He had spent the time between the news reaching him and this point laying down the preparations that he needed to move forward with his maddening idea, and now he only needed a final ingredient to pull magic that had long since been buried deep below the surface of this world up and to his own uses. It terrified the lead fairy more than she liked to admit. She had known Magnus for many, many years, but this man was overcome by revenge. If his eyes focused or not, he was blinded by it.

"As of today, Madame Mayor, this town is not yours. It is mine."

The queen snorted. "And why, exactly, would you believe that?"

He reached forward, snatching her by the wrist as if he could see her. Magic pulsed just below the surface and Blue found no comfort in it.

Regina tried to pull away from him, but he held her firmly. "Because you're going to help me."

"Magnus, please," the fairy begged again, but he ignored her as he drew a knife from his belt, the blade sharp, and he held the Evil Queen's wrist so that her palm was turned upward. To her credit, there was only a small flinch as the blade bit deep enough to draw blood and she must have understood that fighting it now would do no good.

He forced her down, palm against the floor and the magic lurking just below sprang upward like a geyser. The blood of the curse's caster was more powerful than Regina likely knew, and as magic washed over all of them Magnus turned what had previously been his sightless gaze down to the queen that had been forced to her knees. He stood slowly, straightening, and loomed over her.

"You're insane," she breathed. "Completely insane."

For once, the Blue Fairy agreed with the Evil Queen.

The smile only broadened and with a wave of his hand Regina was redeposited elsewhere. Magnus turned to Blue, his milky white eyes focused on her and she couldn't quite hide her terror. "Tell me, Reul Ghorm, what side do you choose?"

She stared at him with wide brown eyes. He would rip her to shreds if she defied him now, and as the one who had brought the magic to Storybrooke, he'd likely have the power to do it. "Our goals have always been aligned," she answered carefully.

"And shall they remain?"

"As long as your wish is to banish darkness, then yes."

Magnus's twisted smile only broadened and he reached out, his hand taking hold of her shoulder. "Then come, my dear. We have much to prepare for. The game grows more interesting by the moment."

Notes: So, I'm moving slower on this, but have faith that I will actually post! It just is taking a bit longer to work through this part of the story. Things should be getting a little crazy from here on out. Poor Regina is not amused. :)

Next time - As Baelfire, Belle, and Emma escape Storybrooke, Magnus proves to Regina just how little power she currently has. Magic sweeps through a town that doesn't understand it and the cleric seeks a way to cross worlds.

Chapter Text

20.

Magnus had deposited her deep within the mines that ran under Storybrooke, but thankfully not so deep that she had a dragon for a cell mate. Regina had spent her first hour down there raging. The first thing she had tried to do was to reach out to the magic that she knew was available in this land now, but she found herself cut off from it. It was like a wet blanket had been draped across her. She could feel her natural abilities stirring inside, but she couldn't quite reach them. They lurked beneath the surface, but whatever Magnus had done to her made it impossible for her to actually use her skills.

Her second hour in her prison had been spent exploring and trying to find a way out. She hit a magical barrier at one end that threw her back to the ground and she didn't dare go too far the other way for fear of running into the sorceress that had once been her dear friend and now would likely rip her limb from limb.

By the third hour, she was cursing Rumplestiltskin. It was all that damn imp's fault anyway. She never should have helped him. Now he was gone and she was going to rot in his place. She wasn't sure what could have possibly possessed her to go through with the ill-conceived plan to begin with. If nothing else, she should have gone too.

"Having trouble reaching your magic, Your Majesty?"

Regina whirled around, a snarl on her lips. "You," she hissed, desperately trying to fling a fireball at the condescending cleric. Instead, it just fizzled, as if there were a barrier around her that wouldn't allow her magic out. Her dark eyes flashed dangerously.

"You'll want to remember to breathe, Regina," Magnus murmured as if nothing were wrong.

"What have you done to me?" she hissed in return.

"Your magic is trapped within you. Precautions needed to be taken, of course."

"So what? You'll just keep me down here? How long?"

"Indefinitely, if you continue to howl like that. My ears are rather sensitive."

She was going to kill him. She could almost see the blood leaking from him, his heart in her hand, and the expression of pain mixed with shock as she crushed his heart between her fingers.

"Of course, I'm sure you could work your way to our good graces. Perhaps I would be more inclined to provide you with a bit of comfort then."

"What do you want?" the Evil Queen demanded.

A slow, calculating smile shifted his expression. "The portal jumper. Where is he in this quaint little town of yours?"

Regina blinked. He wanted to go through to the Enchanted Forest, and he was after Jefferson to do it. He obviously knew nothing about portal hopping. Magnus thought he had won and was planning to just pick up and leave.

"Is something amusing, your majesty?"

"For a scholar of magic you really don't know much," the queen scoffed, tilting her head up. "Jefferson might be able to get you over there, but you'd have to come back. One person through, one person back. Hat's rules." Her smile broadened and she felt a surge of delight. If she had to suffer, at least he wouldn't get what he wanted.

Magnus smirked. "Jefferson," he said, as if tasting the name. "Thank you."

"Didn't you hear me, you idiot? He can't help you."

"You're assuming I want to go back. Why would I when my enemy is still at large?"

Regina blinked at him and he reached forward, taking hold of her. She tried to pull back, but his grip was vice-like, holding her steadily in place. "You're such a proud thing with all of your less than a handful of decades of life and knowledge. Rumplestiltskin as well, with his only little more. I have lived for a millennia. Do you think you know more?" He leaned in, much closer than the sorceress was comfortable with and she could feel magic radiating off of him. It was bitter and stung, leaving her feeling sick.

Pushing down the feeling, Regina let a sly smile tilt her lips. "I do," she acknowledged. "I know that when I take my town back, your heart is the first one I'll crush."

That pulled a chuckle out of the cleric. "Your threats lack bite, your majesty. Enjoy your cage."

"My what?" Regina snarled. "You can't keep me down here!"

"Don't fret. I'm sure you won't be alone for long. I don't have quite as lax an approach to dissidents as you do."

Then he was gone and Regina was left alone. She sank back against the rough wall of the mine and cursed the cleric viciously. He didn't hear her, and if he did he didn't care. For all her power and all her rage, she wasn't his focus, and the longer that she let herself think on that, the more she thought that might work in her favour. Let him focus on a man he couldn't reach. She would make sure he regretted it.

He was coming to slowly, his head aching and his entire body feeling like he'd been run over. It was unpleasant all the way around, and was a feeling that he was becoming frighteningly used to.

Rumplestiltskin worked through the fog as best as he could, reaching back for the answers that he needed. He had gone out to dinner with Belle, that much he was certain of. They had had a pleasant time without the usual mishap that seemed to plague him as of late, gone home, and… He and Belle had fallen asleep together. It was more than someone like him could have hoped for.

But then there had been the fire and the pain, like his entire body was burning from the inside out. He had choked against it and drowned beneath it, unable to surface even when he heard those he loved calling his name. He could hear them, but he couldn't reach them, like being locked in a cage that was his own mind. It was terrifying.

Dark brown eyes blinked slowly open and he felt a hand against his face. "Rumple? Rumple, can you hear me? Bae, I think it's working. Regina was right."

"Took it long enough. Papa, how are you feeling?"

Belle came slowly into focus and Rumplestiltskin felt relief flush through him as her name fell from his lips, his throat raw and scratchy. Her smile brightened his dark soul.

"Here," Emma said and Rumplestiltskin's dark eyes caught sight of a water bottle being passed back. Belle took it from the blonde teen and the ill sorcerer slowly pieced together that he was stretched out in the back seat of his Cadillac, his head resting in Belle's lap.

"Thank you," his love said as she took the offered bottle and carefully undid the top. "You think you can drink any of it, Rumple?"

He gave a brief nod, not entirely sure if he could or not, but preferring to try rather than lying there in agony. He was able to choke down two or three sips before Belle took it away, smoothing back his hair from his face. "Where are we?" he rasped after a moment.

"Heading down towards Boston," Bae said from the driver's seat and his papa struggled to sit up, finding the car surrounded by scenery he'd never seen before. They were well over the town line and nothing had stopped them. The car wasn't wrecked and no added catastrophe had fallen in their heads.

"Regina said that she thought it would be okay since you wrote the curse," Belle explained and dark eyes immediately flickered to Emma. Regina still didn't suspect the girl, but she would have been the only way that Belle made it across. He might have gotten lucky, but she wouldn't have without the savior.

"It sounds like I owe Regina for our escape," Rumplestiltskin managed. He wasn't sure he felt a great deal better, but he was conscious. That was a step in the right direction. His arms trembled, trying to support his propped weight, and he finally laid back down against Belle's lap. She didn't fuss at him for the movement, but instead returned to the smoothing back of his hair in a gentle way that seemed to push back the pain.

"She wanted us to remind you of that," Bae said, and it sounded like an attempt at humour. His voice was tight, though.

Emma turned, and for a moment she looked just like her parents. "Regina stayed so we could get out. We have to go back for her as soon as we can."

Rumplestiltskin nodded, feeling drained as he tried to relax, Belle's continual touch helping. "Yes."

"She thought the poison's effects might be contained to Storybrooke," Belle explained. "If we can let you get better we can go back and rescue Regina."

The car turned and Rumplestiltskin found himself on the sidelines of a plan he didn't know. Everyone else seemed to, though, and after he got the car parked Baelfire stepped out without a word. The questions bubbled up in Rumplestiltskin's mind, but his throat had gone dry again and he couldn't seem to force the words out, so he waited, eyes lulling and sleep struggling to pull him back below the surface.

"So what's this guy's deal?" Emma asked, turning completely in her seat and the Dark One found hazel eyes studying him. "I mean, I've seen grudges, but this is intense."

Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat painfully. "Help me sit up?" he whispered, and Belle didn't argue, though if her expression was any indication that was taking some effort on her part. She eased him up and he took another couple of sips from the water bottle before continuing, leaning heavily against the back of the leather seat. "My magic comes from a curse, and Magnus has dedicated his entire existence to eradicating this curse. That includes the man under it." He watched the blonde watching him. Honest, open truth was not something he came by easily, but this girl was at the center of all of this along with him. She was the one that could, eventually, break the curse, and Magnus knew that.

"Okay, so where do I tie in?"

There was the question. It was one he had been expecting since Bae had nearly dragged her out of Storybrooke. The amount of information he gave her would dictate how things went from here on out.

"That is a very complicated question, my dear," he breathed out at last.

"But I do tie in?"

"Yes."

"Did... Neal know that when he met me?"

"No. He wouldn't have had a way to."

She relaxed, her shoulders slumping some. "Okay, so tell me how I'm involved."

"In time," Rumplestiltskin promised as his son opened the door and slipped in.

"Got a couple of rooms. Glad cursed credit cards seem to work outside of Storybrooke."

His papa chuckled. "Yes, well, I did expect to have to travel to find you."

Bae grinned. "Never thought I'd come to you, huh?"

A slow, tired smile perked Rumplestiltskin's lips. "No, I did not."

"Let's get inside and see where we stand," Belle offered. "We can't leave Regina to fight this alone."

Rumplestiltskin nodded in agreement. He hoped Regina's theory proved true. It was one that he would have leaned towards if he had been conscious enough to do so. They would regroup outside of Magnus' reach, and when they returned the cleric wouldn't know what hit him.

There were many things that Caiden was willing to do for Magnus, but this toed a dangerous line for him. He had been balanced on that same line more than he was comfortable with as Magnus' conflict with the Dark One escalated, and part of him wondered if it would come to the same stalemate as it always did. He wouldn't voice it, but he could feel the long partnership between the lead cleric and the Blue Fairy growing shaky. If they split, his own loyalties would be greatly divided.

Granted, going through with this might break his own ties with the fairies that he had had as long as he had been tied to the clerics. He stopped, pale blue eyes scanning the collection of children in the schoolyard. "Grace?"

One little girl stopped, turning to look at him, her expression confused. She approached slowly and spoke in a quiet voice. "Most people call me Paige here. Only Papa calls me Grace."

Caiden smiled, the movement stiff. "I have some business with your papa. Why don't I go ahead and take you home?"

Grace looked uncertain, even as the blond man reached a hand out to her and he hoped she would come willingly. Kidnapping was not something he was comfortable with. Magnus should have chosen someone else for this particular meeting.

Slowly, though, the little girl reached out and took his hand. With a glance in either direction to make sure that they were not being watched, Caiden allowed magic to swirl around them. He felt her hand tighten in his own, surprised, and when they reappeared outside of a large home she looked nervous. "I'm not going to hurt you," the cleric promised and motioned for her to follow up to the door. She reached around in her school bag and pulled a key out, the lock clicking as she turned it, and the door swung open to reveal a beautiful home that the curse had provided the Mad Hatter with.

"Papa?" Grace called out and started to walk forward, but Caiden didn't release her. Instead he shifted his grip to her shoulder and held her steadily and gently there. Jefferson was a practical man from everything the clerics had heard. It was in his interest to help them and his daughter wouldn't be harmed. The threat was hollow. It had to be.

The Hatter appeared at the top of the stairs. "Grace, what are you…" He stopped, eyes fixed on Caiden. The rumours appeared true, the young cleric realized, as his own pale gaze focused on the scar across the other man's neck. "Who are you? Grace, come here."

Caiden offered a smile and released the girl. "Jefferson, my name is Caiden."

"You're a cleric," Jefferson acknowledged, pulling his daughter behind him. "I can't do anything for you. I don't-"

"You can, and I think you will. Surely you felt the change."

Everything in his expression said that he did. "What do you want?"

"We're in need of your skill set. Magnus wishes you to go back to the Enchanted Forest and bring two people back through for him."

"There's nothing left. The queen destroyed it all."

"You know that isn't true."

Jefferson looked nervously at him. "And who will I be leaving behind to bring these two?"

"Magnus has arranged to send two people home. Don't worry. We are not like the queen. We will not separate you from your daughter any longer than necessary, and she will be well looked after while you're away."

The Hatter glanced around, his hand going to the top of his daughter's head and he pulled her close. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Everyone has a choice," Caiden said quietly, "though not all outcomes of each choice are equal."

Jefferson nodded, reading between the lines. "I swear to you, if you hurt her-"

"You have my word that no harm will come to your daughter," the young cleric said quickly. "On my life."

"Then I guess we better go see your boss," he agreed, his expression utterly miserable. Caiden didn't wait to allow his magic to sweep all three of them away so that Magnus could put his plan into motion.

It had hit like a tidal wave crashing over her and Emma couldn't get the key into the door fast enough. It was a fairly nice hotel - nicer than anything she and Neal had ever been able to afford - and losing her lunch in the hall was not an option. She slammed the door behind her, bent over the toilet and choked.

This was not normal, and she knew it. Somewhere in her mind she had filed the couple times it had happened before under stress as the cause, but as she continued to choke and sputter over the toilet, a small and suddenly persistent thought caught hold, and all Emma could think of was the terrible timing of it was true. It couldn't be true, though. She and Neal might be young, but they weren't stupid. They were careful.

The door to the room opened and she sat there for a long moment, not bothering to look up. A glass of water appeared in front of her and she looked to see Belle smiling down at her. "Bae is helping Rumple in. You okay?"

"Yeah, I don't know what's going on. I've never gotten carsick like that."

Belle hummed softly to herself, pulling a washcloth from the wrack and running cool water against it. When it was soaked, she wrung it out and handed it over. "Perhaps it wasn't the car," she said softly, but there was something in her voice that made Emma stop short.

The blonde ducked her head, feeling her stomach roll again. "That's not it."

"Are you certain?"

"That can't be it."

Belle offered a small smile, but didn't say anything as Emma leaned her forehead against the cool porcelain. "I can't be pregnant," she whispered. "We don't have time for this. We've got... Regina's in trouble and there's a crazy man trying to take over Storybrooke. What about Mary Margaret and Ruby and-" she stopped, trying to still the panic. "We abandoned them."

"No, we didn't abandon them," the older woman said gently. "We're going to go back for them. We're going to save them."

Emma wasn't sure when the tears gathered. She wasn't prone to crying. She'd learned to live with too much loss already to break down weeping at any new turn, but there she was, her emotions bubbling so close to the surface that they might overflow. Belle must have seen it, because she sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around her. "Promise?" the teen whispered.

"Promise. Have you told Bae?"

"I don't want to tell him until I know for sure. He... Neal will be excited."

"So will you," Belle promised and Emma hoped she was right. She had decided long ago that she never wanted to be a mother. All she had really known about mothers was that her own left her on the side of the road, and what sort of role model could that be?

Belle nudged her gently and when she spoke, Emma thought she might have read her thoughts. "You're not alone in this. We will all be here for you."

With effort the blonde smiled. She did seem to have a family now. That was something, at least.

The young cleric might have said that no harm would come to Grace, but his master was an entirely different beast. Jefferson had heard of Magnus before, but the tales of terror didn't begin to do him justice. He hadn't wasted time in telling the Hatter in no uncertain terms what he must do if he wanted to receive his daughter back when he came back through the portal. He was provided with instructions, name and details of the man he was to return with, and two terrified, cursed Storybrooke citizens that didn't have the faintest idea what was happening around them. When he reiterated that he needed to leave and return with the exact number of people, the old cleric had just smiled cruelly and told him that his guest might take some convincing.

Magic was indeed stirring in Storybrooke and Jefferson's hat was ready to spin at his expert touch. He had kissed his daughter goodbye and his two unwilling companions and he jumped through the portal. He explained as much as he could to them, but the curse lingered even in the land in which they had been born. Storybrooke would stay with them, driving them mad until the savior came to break the curse, but Jefferson couldn't dwell on that. His only priority was Grace.

The Hatter found his thief at the edge of a forest, his Merry Men well into a night of feasting after they'd made a haul from some abandoned castle and some royal that was likely deep into a curse in another realm. The blond thief showed no signs of merriment though. Instead he lingered on the far edges of the celebration, a small boy with him.

Convincing. Right. These assholes had no problem using his daughter to coerce him, so why shouldn't they expect him to use this man's son in the same way?

And he would. He hated that he would.

Leaves crunched under his Italian leather shoe and the thief looked up. "Hello," he greeted uncertainly, hand going immediately to the bow and quiver leaned against the fallen tree that he'd been seated on.

Jefferson tried for a smile that he couldn't possibly feel, showing his empty hands as if he weren't a threat. "You must be Robin of Locksley. I need your help."

"And what can I and my Merry Men do for you, sir?" Robin Hood asked the Hatter with a smile that was just as thin and strained as his own. His son came to stop next to him, small hand clutching at his cloak.

Jefferson's eyes fell on the boy. "I have a daughter just… a few years older than your son. We were separated for a long time and I just got her back. Now someone is threatening to take her again."

Locksley's fair brows drew together and he took a step towards Jefferson. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what we can do to help, but if it's in our power —"

"It's in yours," Jefferson answered, covering the remaining distance between them in two short strides. He took hold of Locksley's wrist and the boy rushed to his father's aid the moment he picked up on the shift, a cry on his lips. Three through, three back. And he hated himself for it.

"I'm sorry," the Mad Hatter said honestly as he pulled his hat from his head, tossed it, and he and the father and son were pulled through the portal towards Storybrooke.

----

Chapter Text

21.

Mary Margaret had made it a point to stop by the hospital to check on their John Doe every day since they had found him. If Mayor Mills knew anything more about him, she hadn't said, so the elementary teacher had made sure to drop by frequently during her volunteer hours, and sometimes even outside of them. No one should be alone, especially if they couldn't remember who they were.

It was strange. She would have thought someone with no memory of who they were would have been a bit of a blank slate. There were no memories of experiences to form up a personality, but somehow it shined through with him. The more time she spent, the more she enjoyed his company. He made her laugh at the most unexpected moments and there was a lightness she felt around him. A rightness. Somehow, she was drawn to him, and he seemed to be drawn to her. What a strange world.

He wasn't in his room, though. The bed was empty and a stranger stood with his broad back facing her, seemingly looking out the window towards the pond that Mary Margaret so often walked around with the man she'd come to visit. As the stranger turned, though, she saw that he couldn't possibly have been taking in the scenery. His eyes were milky white, scars marring the skin around them. Long-healed burn scars with what looked like had once been deep gashes mixed in. He must have been in a tremendous accident at some point in his life.

"You must be looking for David," the stranger said, his voice deep and strong.

It took Mary Margaret half a beat longer than it should have to key into the fact that not only had he been speaking to her, but he'd been speaking about her new nameless friend. "David?" she asked. "Do you know him? Is that his name? How -"

"Patience, child," the stranger cut her line of questions off. "Your answers will come in time."

The elementary school teacher tilted her head a little to the side as she studied him. Then it clicked. "You're Mr Dawson, aren't you? You work at the convent."

"Indeed I do. I was hoping to enlist your help in a matter."

She flashed him a smile that he couldn't possibly see. "I'm always happy to help."

"Yes you are. I'm looking for Mr Gold."

The statement caught her by surprise. Why would he have come to John Doe's - or David's, supposedly - hospital room to look for her of all people to help with Mr Gold? Dark brows drew together. "I rent my apartment from him, but I don't really know him."

"Few do," Jacob Dawson responded, "though you do know Emma, and I have reason to believe that she and the boy are with him."

"I don't know where."

"But you have a way to contact her."

Strange, it sounded much less like a question than it probably should have, but there was something in the man's tone that lulled her. Mary Margaret found the questions that she somehow knew she should be asking slipping away and the next thing she knew, she was handing the blind man her phone. He flipped it open and seemed to know exactly where to go. He offered her a smile that didn't sit quite right. "You've done well, and you will be rewarded. Go."

"Go?" she echoed. All of this felt wrong. She couldn't explain it, but that sharp sentiment cut through the fog.

"The others will be gathered to the town square. Fetch David and you'll receive answers there."

It was a dismissal that would have rivaled the mayor's, and as Jacob pulled the phone up to his ear, Mary Margaret found her feet leading her out before she'd ever given them permission. It was as if she couldn't stop them. The brief flashes of curiosity started to subside, left dulled by the fog that replaced it. David. Town square. Okay.

She rounded the corner and slammed directly into Mother Superior. The lead nun looked as startled as Mary Margaret felt, but seemed to recover more quickly. "Sn…. Mary Margaret. I need you to come with me."

"But I'm supposed to get David and go to the town square."

Mother Superior shook her head. "He's not at the town square. Come. I'll take you to him."

Her words didn't have the pull that Jacob Dawson's did, but somehow they felt more right. Despite the fuzziness in her mind, Mary Margaret nodded and allowed herself to be led out of the hospital.

She wasn't sure how long they had been sitting on the floor of the bathroom in a fancy hotel room, her boyfriend helping his poisoned father into the adjoining room and said father's girlfriend sitting with her on the cool tiles, providing more support than Emma thought she'd ever received from someone she'd met so recently. This woman didn't know her. Not really. But here she was acting more like family than an orphaned girl knew what to do with. They all had.

Emma blinked hard against a tear that escaped down her cheek and Belle reached around her, pulling her into a side hug and letting her lean. The flood gates might have opened if her phone hadn't rung, distracting her from the near breakdown. She reached into her pocket, saw Mary Margaret's name there, and cleared her throat before answering. "Hey, listen, I know that Dr Whale didn't want him leaving but -"

"Hello, Emma," a deep, authoritative voice boomed in her ear that was very much not Mary Margaret and a chill flooded her system. She knew that voice. It was a voice that would haunt her nightmares now, and suddenly she felt like she was standing on the steps of the convent with the man ordering Neal's execution. And he had Mary Margaret's phone. He had Mary Margaret.

Emma was on her feet in an instant. "What'd you do to Mary Margaret?"

"She is safe. For now," came the cryptic answer. "The Evil Queen Regina's fate remains dependent on choices you make here. Everyone in the town's fate does."

The teenage girl bit her lip as Belle stood slowly at her side, a supportive hand going to the teen's arm. "You can't hurt Regina. Everybody would know."

"You've spent time in Storybrooke. No one would know. Any questions are lost to the fog of the curse."

Emma felt her stomach roll again, but this time for a very different reason. Since the confession and his promise of proof, Neal had spoken so openly about his home and his family, as had Belle and even Mr Gold and Regina to a lesser extent. To hear that this man refer to a curse so casually was still enough to make her head spin. "I don't believe you. You're just trying to get us to bring Neal's dad back. It's not happening."

"Believe me or don't, child. Rumplestiltskin will die either way. It's you I offer the chance to."

The blonde teen swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"

"You don't know, do you? The Dark One keeps his secrets well."

Emma clenched her jaw. "You say a lot of nothing, don't you?"

"Then unlike the demon you protect, I'll speak plainly. Your family - your parents - are in Storybooke."

Complicated. That's what Gold had called it when Emma had asked how she tied in. It was a complicated question. More complicated by the minute, and Emma thought she might know why. Magnus' threats were crystal clear. "You hurt one hair on Regina's head and Gold will be the least of your problems," Emma snarled and snapped the phone shut.

"He has Regina?" Belle asked in a strained voice.

"Yeah. And it's about time I got some answers." She didn't wait, but instead stormed out of the bathroom and through the double doors that separated the two rooms.

—

Everything was in motion, but he felt as if he were frozen still. The Hatter's little girl sat in the corner of the living room with her knees pulled up to her chin and a stuffed rabbit clutched tightly against her chest. Though her body language showed fear, her glare was something else entirely. It was the look of a child that knew she'd been used against her own father, yet could do nothing about it. It was a well-earned look, if Caiden were honest, and he pushed back the nagging feeling that he'd crossed yet another line in his service to Magnus. He couldn't dwell on it. He had no intentions of hurting the girl, and once Jefferson brought whatever two useful souls back through from the Enchanted Forest that Magnus had sent him after, the younger cleric could be done with this distasteful business of leveraging a child. First Baelfire and then Grace… he was ready to be done with it.

Magic swirled, picking up dust and kicking up loose papers from the coffee table. Framed photos shook and a figurine danced itself off of a bookshelf as the whole house trembled and crashed loudly to the wooden floor. The intensity only grew as the portal opened and Grace climbed to her feet. "Papa!"

Caiden flashed out of existence and back in infront of her to keep from rushing it, lest she be dragged in. "Patience," he instructed quietly, watching the maw open up and the Hatter appear. With him came a blond man dressed as if he meant to blend in with the trees. His face was rough and his eyes wide, and at his side was a little boy, even younger than Grace.

Magnus had said that the thief he wanted to employ as a tracker to find the Dark One once he returned to Storybrooke might need convincing. After two children - one grown and one very much not - had already been a means to an end, Caiden shouldn't be surprised. He refused to let the conflict reach his face.

As the magic settled, Jefferson leveled a dangerous glare at the cleric. "I did what you demanded," he growled, disgust woven into every word. "Now release my daughter."

Caiden's fingers loosed around the girl's shoulder and she shot forward, launching herself into her father's arms. The Hatter caught her up and held her close. Pale eyes watched the scene for a long moment before their owner was jolted back into reality by a flurry of motion.

The boy took off in the opposite direction as his father notched an arrow in his bow faster than any man should have been capable of, pulled back, and let it fly. Caiden lifted a hand, magic wrapping around the projectile first, the boy a fraction of a second after, and both were frozen where they were.

"I have no intention of harming you or your child. Only to ask for your help."

"And you steal children to leverage that," the blond accused.

"Desperate times," Caiden answered softly and turned his gaze back to Jefferson. "When the war with the Dark One is over, we will remember your place in it."

The Hatter pulled Grace a little closer. "Get out of our home."

A brief nod and a swirl of magic, and Caiden pulled father and son with him, the sound of the loosed arrow flying through the space he'd just occupied following after them.

—

He felt like he was drifting in and out, even if he never quite slipped below the surface of unconsciousness. Bae got him inside and to the bed and he could practically feel the stress rolling off his son in waves. When he finally took a seat on the bed and then back against the stacked pillows, he was able to look into those dark eyes filled with worry. Rumplestiltskin's lips pulled thin and down as he reached an unsteady hand up to his gown boy's face. "Oh, Bae," he breathed out, voice less steady than he would have preferred. "I'm gonna fix this. I swear to you."

Before drew in a trembling breath and caught his hand. "What if we waited too long? What if… what are we doing? We should have you in a hospital."

"And tell them what?"

"I don't know," Bae snapped, gripping his hand a little tighter. "Just like I don't know what kind of damage that poison may have caused. For all we know your organs could start shutting down and then —"

Rumple reached his free hand up to cover the one with a death grip on him and the rough chuckle that had been threatening died in his throat as he saw tears standing in his son's eyes. "We're not quite there," he promised instead.

"I can't lose you again, Papa," Bae managed.

And he'd thought the poison ripping through him had been painful. He took a moment, his hand around Bae's and he swallowed hard in hopes it would allow him to speak in a stronger voice. He needed Bae to believe him. To have faith in him. "I'm not letting go, Bae," he swore softly. "I just got you back. I'm not letting you go. You believe me, don't you?"

Bae offered a strained smile and bent to kiss his papa's knuckles, mumbling that he did.

The door burst open from the adjoining room, startling them both. Emma rushed in with a white-knuckled hold on her phone and Belle trailing behind. "He has Regina. And maybe Mary Margaret."

Rumplestiltskin loosed a breath. Well, that was quicker than expected. He removed only one hand to help push himself up on the stacked pillows so that he was sitting up a little more and gave Bae's hand a squeeze with the other at his immediate protest.

"Magnus called from Mary Margaret's phone," Belle offered a bit more explanation.

"To tell me he has Regina," Emma added, panic working its way into her voice.

"We don't know that he does," Rumplestitskin murmured, his voice intentionally gentle so as to not rile her up any further and Emma's gaze snapped to him. Well, at least he had her attention. "Magnus can't kill her. He knows that."

"He said no one would notice because of the curse —"

"That she cast. There are protections in that. Regina knew it. That's why she bought us time." He winced and sunk a little deeper into the pillows before meeting her eyes again. "She's resourceful. She'll be fine."

There was a loud huff from the blonde's direction and Bae squeezed his hand before releasing it to stand and take a step closer to Emma. "Hey, let's let him rest and you and I can talk about —"

"No," she snapped at him, her hazel gaze fixed on Rumplestiltskin as he forced his eyes to remain open. "It's time."

"For what, exactly?" he drawled tiredly.

"In the car. You said you'd tell me how I fit in in time. It's time."

"Emma…" Bae tried again and she dodged the hand reaching for her, turning her fiery gaze on him. "Magnus said you dad knows who my parents are! That they're in Storybrooke."

Bae paled noticeably and Rumple sighed. Of course Magnus did. The bastard was trying to turn them against each other. "He's toying with you,"

"That's not a denial," Emma growled , but clearly hadn't missed Baelfire's expression she turned on him now, and a little hurt made it through the rage. "You knew too?" she asked smally.

"Emma…"

"You were just going to let me leave her there to rot, weren't you?" she demanded, the accusation barely leaving her as she turned on heel and stalked back through the door she'd slammed through earlier.

Rumplestiltskin met his son's torn gaze. "Go."

He didn't need to tell Bae twice as his boy darted after the girl he loved.

Belle watched the door closed behind them for a long moment before turning back to meet Rumple's dark gaze. He loosed a long breath. "You heard the call?"

"Only her end."

"Best you tell me what you can before we find ourselves on the sharp end of any more surprises."

—

Emma was almost to the exit into the hotel hallway from their room as Bae followed her through the doors. He picked up speed, reaching out and touching her arm, though careful not to take too tight a hold that she felt trapped by it. "Hey? Hey. Look at me." He did his best not to flinch under the vicious, teary gaze she leveled at him. Instead, he met her gaze. "Talk to me?"

"What do you want me to say? My mom is…. You know I've been looking for them my whole life! She's there! She's there and we just left her to him!" The dam broke and with it came the tears. Damn it. He was useless against her tears.

Bae swallowed hard, steeling himself to try to explain in a way that wouldn't make this worse. He really didn't want to make this worse. "It was a lot. Magic, the Enchanted Forest, a curse… I was trying not to overload you. And then everything happened so fast with Papa and I just..."

"You've had time since I admitted this craziness was real."

"I know, but I figured we'd get there. It wasn't like you could just walk up to her and call her mom. She's cursed. She doesn't remember you yet."

Blonde brows drew together and she blinked hard against the salty tears still falling one by one. "What are you talking about? She's one of the only people that remembers!"

Everything seemed to slam to a stop at that. "Wait. Who did Magnus say is your mom?"

Emma seemed to slow down with him. "I mean, he didn't say it outright, but it makes sense… the connection, the fact he's using her against us…."

"Okay, who do you think is your mom?" Bae clarified.

"Regina. Isn't it Regina?"

A flash of relief swept through Baelfire. Okay. Everything was starting to make more sense. "No," he breathed when he realized he hadn't answered. "Mary Margaret is Snow White. She's your mom. David - the guy from the coma - he's your dad."

"Snow White? What does that make him? Prince Charming?"

"I guess?"

All of the anger seemed to rush out of her, leaving her deflated and her limbs heavy. Bae reached out to steady her under the realization and inched her towards the bed to take a seat. He waited as patiently as he could, her pretty eyes staring unfocused on the carpet and her fingers wrapped tightly around her bent knees.

"They're alive," she breathed at last.

"Yeah. I was going to tell you. I just… wanted to give you time to process. Then Magnus."

"Then Magnus," she agreed, the name rolling off her tongue like a curse, even as she sagged against him.

Good. That meant that they'd bypassed the worst of her flight-risk tendencies, at least for the night. He eased her back and she let him, both of them falling into the bed. "You were going to tell me?"

"Of course I was."

"Is there more to it? Your dad said it was complicated."

"It is. I don't even know if I get it all, but if we get some sleep tonight and he's up to it in the morning, we'll get him to explain."

Emma curled into him and he tucked her head under his chin, feeling her arm around his ribs with her fingers wrapping themselves up in the fabric of his shirt. He kissed the top of her head. "You really thought Regina was your mom?"

"I thought… maybe," she answered softly and much less certainly than she'd sounded just a few minutes before. She repositioned herself so that she could meet his eyes in the dimly lit room. "I care about her. That's not gonna go away just because I know the truth."

"I know. We're going back for her."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

That seemed to be enough as his exhausted girlfriend settled down nestled into him. He breathed her in, the closeness calming. They'd get through this, he reminded himself. Papa would be okay and they'd rescue Storybooke from Magnus. Emma's parents, Regina, and everyone else… they could make a life there. It could be their Tallahassee.

He'd fight for that with everything he had.

--

Chapter Text

Rumplestiltskin was gone and the Evil Queen was nowhere to be found, which meant the sheriff might or might not be of any use at this point. And that meant he was on his own. Again.

August had laid low as best he could once he'd slipped away from the clerics. No one had followed him and he'd found a trailer in the woods that had been abandoned in a semi-livable state. It had been the flush of magic just under the forest floor that had pulled him out of hiding and sent August skulking around Storybrooke's streets.

He didn't think Emma could break the curse this early, but he couldn't just keep hiding. He took advantage of the cold, the hood around his face pulled tightly to avoid any immediate recognition. The last thing he wanted to do was end up on Magnus' twins' torture chamber again.

His first stop was his Papa's shop. He just about ran into him in the older man's haste to exit, and from the flash of recognition, August though maybe she'd done it. Maybe the curse was broken.

The momentarily startled expression evened out. "August Booth. I haven't seen you in some time. I thought perhaps you'd left."

No. This was definitely Marco. The curse hadn't been broken. August tried for a smile. "Just been a little tied up," he said vaguely. "You good? No problems after the two guys at the pawnshop?"

"Oh, it's been quiet," Marco said as he locked the shop up.

"Closing down for the night?"

"Marco, you heading to the meeting?" a familiar voice called from the street behind him and August glanced back. Jiminy.

"Just locking up," Marco confirmed and offered August an apologetic smile. "We'll be open first thing in the morning."

All August could do was nod his understanding as Marco joined a very human Jiminy and started down towards the center of town. A small frown tugged at the writer's lips and he couldn't shake that something was wrong. Well, more wrong than usual in a cursed town where no one knew who they really were with an ancient sect of clerics waging war against the Dark One. This place had a lot going on and none of it was good.

More people wandered by in the same direction - almost like the whole damn town was going to the same meeting Marco and Jiminy were - and August pushed a frustrated breath out through his nose. He was going to regret this.

He slipped in with a listless crowd, pulling his hoodie a little tighter around his face as he did. He fell into step with them all the way to the town square. Once there, people filed into the building and were milling around as if they were waiting for something. As he lingered towards the back, August spotted a group of people that he hadn't actually met in the convent, but that he would have put money on being clerics, make their way on stage. They were directing and setting things up. This wasn't good.

As if to prove his point, Soren and Silas ascended the stage from opposite sides. Yep. This was really bad.

Silas stepped forward. "Quiet down," he instructed, and his voice carried even without a microphone or sound system.

When no one seemed to notice, his brother's voice boomed loud enough that August was sure the walls shook. "Enough!"

A startled hush fell over the cursed citizens and they took their seats.

The doors to the lurking writer's right burst open, revealing a very harried looking Sheriff Graham Hubert. He looked as if he'd spent the better part of the day on a wild and unsuccessful chase, and when his gaze fell on the twins it became clear that he hadn't been the one to release them from custody. His hand lingered near his holstered gun.

Soren smirked and, with a twitch of his fingers, the gun went flying, pulling several confused and startled gasps from onlookers. "Take a seat, Sheriff."

Graham's dark gaze remained fixed on the gun just a few yards away now, cursed mind desperately trying to piece together an explanation it could understand. He recovered quicker than August would have given him credit for, though, and turned back to the men he must have had in a jail cell until very recently. "I don't know what game you're playing at, but —"

Silas tilted his head and a chair seemed to move of its own volition. Metal scraped across the wooden floors and took Graham out at the knees from behind, forcing him into the seat and it continued its path up to the stage with the sheriff in it. Once there, the cleric flashed a truly vicious smile, seeming to soak up the panic that was brewing around them. "Your queen can't protect you now," he directed at Graham.

Soren took a step forward, addressing the increasingly nervous crowd. "And the Queen's pet can't protect you. You answer to us now."

"What Queen?" Granny demanded from the crowd. "And who the hell are you?"

Silas' terrifying smile only broadened. "We're the ones you answer to now."

This was worse than even August's active imagination could have predicted. He needed to get out of there. He needed to —

A flash of smoke cut him off from what he'd hoped would be a quiet exit and Soren stepped out of it, magic having repositioned him there. "You're not going anywhere, Puppet. All your friends are gone. You're one of them now." He motioned to the powerless crowd.

Great. This was getting worse by the minute.

—-

She had known Magnus for many, many years. He'd been a man once. A pious man with hopes and dreams of leaving the world they lived in better than he'd found it. He spoke of it often. Clerics had gathered to him, listened to him, his booming voice carrying across crowds that hung on every word. He wanted to strive for a world with no pain, no evil, and while it was a noble goal, Reul Ghorm had lived long enough to know it was not an altogether achievable one. Though to find balance in the world, good must always struggle against evil, so she admired the man for his had been so long ago now. Before the Dark One's curse and before the obsession rooted itself deep in his soul. He'd only been a man then. She wasn't sure exactly what he'd become since.

After the first Dark One had appeared, Magnus had set his eyes on ending that curse. As time dragged on and the curse's power grew, Blue had watched as he crossed line after line in pursuit of his new goal. The Dark Ones had always vexed him - the curse proving impossible to eradicate thus far - but there was something about Rumplestiltskin that had finally tipped him over the ledge. Blue had kept her distance after her failed attempt to help poor Baefire save his father as a boy and had only intervened when truly necessary. She hadn't stepped in when the dark sorcerer had flung a curse powerful and complex enough to destroy the cleric's eyes beyond repair and she hadn't had a hand in Magnus' near destruction of the same man two centuries later. It hadn't been until the prophecy of the Dark Curse that the Blue Fairy found herself entangled in this endless battle. He would come through, he'd told her. That much he'd seen to. What he had needed from her - demanded from her, calling in every favour he swore she owed - was the ability to retain his memories.

And she'd done that for him.

How he'd known, she still wasn't certain. It had taken a tremendous amount of planning in precious little time to prepare the memory potions in a way that would be safely delivered. It had been a year before she'd happened to stumble across hers as she had brewed a cup of tea. By then, Magnus had already been awake. Thankfully he hadn't discovered her entire stash, though. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Enough to give them hope as a cleric that might have once been a hero spiraled closer and closer to becoming the darkest of villains.

"I don't understand exactly what it is you'd like me to do," Mary Margaret said as she wrapped her hands around the steaming mug, but hadn't taken a sip yet. She seemed focused on who she believed was Mother Superior. "Mr Dawson is —"

"A threat to everyone in Storybrooke, I'm sad to say."

"Should we call the sheriff? I think he took my phone…"

Blue resisted the urge to sigh. Sweet as Mary Margaret was, it was Snow she needed now. "How is your tea? Too warm?"

The dark haired woman inhaled the steam before taking a slow, intentional sip. "No, it's…" Her voice tapered off as her eyes lost focus for just a moment. The change came as the sharpness returned. It was in the tilt of her chin and the squaring of her shoulders. And the recognition. "Blue," she breathed.

The fairy smiled. "Hello, Snow."

She remembered that rush as memories fought for their place where a false past had been implanted. Granted, Snow didn't have quite as long as Blue did to come to terms with. Her expression shifted and settled into something between fear and anger. "He wants Emma. Why does he want my daughter?"

"Let's fetch David and I'll tell you all I know."

—-

It was a strange world that they had been dragged into, and, if his instincts were correct, the one that the Enchanted Forest inhabitants had been pulled away to years prior. When magic had rolled up and over them and time had stopped. It was difficult to say just how long it had been since it had happened or who had enacted it. The rumours had been enough to keep Robin and the Merry Men away from the source. He'd counted them lucky, but now here they were… dragged into the middle. It would have been much more manageable if they hadn't brought Roland along, but that very much seemed to have been the point.

His young son clung to him, nose buried in the crook of his neck as they made their way through a snow topped graveyard and towards a large building made of stone and wood. The man - Caiden, he was called - had taken Robin's bow and arrows and even the knife hidden in his boot as he'd used magic to teleport them there. All he had were his wits, but he'd be damned if he let them lay a finger on his child.

"Papa, I'm scared," Roland whispered.

Robin kissed the side of his head. "I'm right here." He leaned closer so only the boy could hear him. "Are you watching?" He felt a nod. "Good lad."

Caiden led them up the stairs and Robin found himself being watched closely by women dressed in strange, dark frocks as they made their way through the large doors. The women cleared a path, silent and nervous, and Roland tightened his grip.

"Isn't it about time you tell me why we're here?" Robin demanded and Caiden didn't bother to turn as he answered.

"We need your help. Magnus will explain the details."

"Let me guess. This has something to do with your war against the Dark One." Caiden paused at a set of doors, hand pressed lightly as if he were pausing before opening it. "You think I didn't hear that?" Robin growled, shifting Roland in his arms so that he was positioned between the threat and his son. "You chose the wrong man for this. I owe him a debt."

"One that you'll be relieved of once this is done," Caiden said softly and looked to his left where one of the ladies hesitated. "Sister Astrid, please take the boy and keep him safe. Do not let him out of your sight."

Robin pulled in a steadying breath as his son clung tighter. They might be in a strange world with a strange enemy, but in the end it wasn't too different from what they'd always prepared for. The boy was a Locksley. Even if he was afraid, he would know what to do. "Remember what I taught you," Robin murmured and kissed him again. Finally, Roland loosened his grip just enough to slip free and slide to the ground.

Sister Astrid offered a sweet smile and an outstretched hand. "I'll take good care of you while your dad talks to Mr Dawson."

Roland hesitated for just a moment before releasing his father's hand and taking Astrid's, following her down the hall.

The sound of the door opening drew Robin's attention back around and Caiden was already moving through it into a dimly lit, albeit large room. Candles burned and a man sat with his broad back to them, legs crossed and palms pressed against the wooden floor beneath him. It shimmered, rippling as water would around a stone dropped into its depths. Though instead of rippling outward, it moved in and towards the man's hands.

"Welcome, Robin of Locksley." The voice reverberated all around them and Robin squared his shoulders as the figure began to move in an unhurried fashion. "I trust Jefferson provided you with a comfortable journey?"

"Somehow I doubt comfort is your foremost goal."

A rough, strange sound left him and Robin thought it may have been something of a laugh. As he turned, though, and the thief caught sight of those milky white eyes surrounded by scars, he remembered the name Caiden had given. Magnus. He'd heard of the old, blind cleric before. Heard of him in the same way he'd heard of the Dark One before slipping into his castle in an attempt to save Marian's life. He was a legend, his name whispered around campfires. Sometimes he was a hero that vanquished evil, but sometimes he was a man blinded in more ways than one who had lost sight of his original oaths to protect. His only goal was to destroy the Dark One, and he would burn the worlds to rid them of his enemy.

"Why am I here?" Robin managed, unable to look away from those strange eyes.

An eerie, unnatural smile spread. "I have put things into motion. The Dark One will return to Storybrooke, but he's a clever demon. He's always known how to hide from me. But you… you will track him down and bring him to me."

"Even if I wanted to help you, I don't know this place."

"I suggest you make yourself a quick study. Your boy's counting on you."

—

Belle woke to the sound of someone retching. The first thought that her sleep-addled brain provided to her was that it was Emma again, but there had been a bathroom in Emma and Bae's room and this sound was coming from theirs. She reached over to the right side of the bed and found it empty, giving her the more likely candidate.

She tossed off the covers and padded her way over to where the door stood ajar to find Rumple seated on the floor of the bathroom and leaned over the toilet with his cane propped against the sink next to him. At least that explained how he'd gotten in there quietly enough that he hadn't woken her.

A long moment passed, then another before his entire body tensed again and his stomach attempted to expel what little he had inside of it. Belle inched in a bit further and grabbed a washcloth, turning the sink on warm to wet it. When he was done - at least for the moment - she handed him the dampened cloth.

"Thank you," he rasped and she caught sight of the thick, dark liquid in the toilet bowl. When he brought the washcloth away from his lips, the same seemed to stain it. He glanced at it then up at her and she realised she must have been gawking with the strained smile he tried for. "Despite appearances, this is a good sign."

"The poison?"

"The curse was feeding it in Storybrooke. Without it… shouldn't be long till I'm rid of it."

He settled back against the wall and she reached over to fill a glass full of tap water. He took it gratefully and, as he took small sips, she sank down to the floor with her back to the sink. "Do you feel better, at least?"

"A bit." He took another careful sip and his dark eyes flickered up to meet hers. "Once it's out of my system, I should be able to go back."

"You still need time to recover," Belle pointed out.

Rumple let his head thump lightly against the wall behind him. "Magnus may not be able to kill Regina, but he'll use everyone that Emma's grown attached to to lure her back. Bae'd be fine - he wasn't caught up in the curse - but you and I…. At best we'd revert back to our cursed selves."

"She's why we made it over?"

"Yes."

He looked exhausted, even if the colour was slowly starting to creep back into his cheeks. "You can't fight him like this."

"No, we'll need to get the lay of the land. I have a place in the woods. Should do nicely to regroup there."

Regroup. She wished they could do more than regroup. From the moment that she'd gotten her memories back she felt like it'd been a race. There was some downtime, it was true, but within Storybrooke the threat of Magnus and his clerics always loomed over them. When they'd left, they'd been racing towards the goal of saving the man she loved, but that wouldn't have been the end. They all knew it. There were others that they had to go back for… some that had risked everything and others that knew nothing at all. If Rumple was able to go back, they couldn't delay.

There was a soft knock at the door that connected their room to Bae and Emma's and Belle glanced over. "What time is it?" her love asked tiredly and Belle pushed herself to her feet, glancing at the clock. "Six and forty two," she read the numbers and received a soft, amused chuckle for her efforts.

"Just six-forty-two, dear," he corrected softly and shifted carefully to his knees. "Too early for Bae. Would you let Emma in?"

He was already reaching for his cane as she nodded and padded on bare feet to open a door that had never been locked. Rumple was right. Emma Swan stood in the opening with her blonde hair sticking out at odd angles and puffy shadows under her eyes like she'd cried herself to sleep the night before. She motioned back to the room. "Neal's still sleeping, but it sounded like you guys are up…"

"And you're in need of answers," Rumple said from behind and Belle turned to find Rumplestiltskin standing - mostly steady - with his hands against his cane and a look of authority somehow surrounding him, despite the fact she'd just found him bent over a toilet a handful of minutes before.

The blonde teen squared her shoulders. "I think you owe me that."

An amused chuckle left him. "Oh do I?"

"You do," Belle answered with an encouraging smile. "Is there a place where I can get us some coffees?"

"I saw a Starbucks in the lobby earlier," Emma offered.

For what it was worth, Rumple still looked more amused than irritated. He motioned to where a couple of plastic pieces the same size as his credit card sat next to his discarded - and rarely used - cell phone. "Have them charge it to the room."

She nodded and offered Emma an encouraging glance before stepping out and hoping that Rumple would be willing to trust the girl with the truth. She deserved that much.

—-

An awkward silence followed Belle's departure and Emma shifted uncomfortably, finally half-closing the door and nodding back. "If Neal wakes up and thinks I left, he's gonna freak."

Rumplestiltskin wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that, but he thought he understood the sentiment. Bae would be afraid she'd left if he woke alone. Fair enough. At least with the door cracked he could hear her voice once he stirred.

She moved further into the room in a way that indicated she didn't quite know where to begin and Rumple shuffled to the bed and took a seat. His cane remained in one hand, ready should he need to move again, but not so ready that he looked as if he were ready to flee the conversation. "What is it you'd like to know?"

That caught her attention, and Emma moved to the shuttered windows, pulling back at the thick curtains to look out at the town that lay somewhere between Storybrooke and Boston. She seemed fascinated by something for a long moment, or perhaps she was just gathering her thoughts. Finally, she loosed a breath. "So, um… I was dropped on the side of the road as a baby. Nothing but a blanket and some kid found me. I grew up in the foster system and I didn't have anyone until…"

Rumplestiltskin watched her as she struggled through her own past.

"It doesn't matter. What does is that I've been looking for my parents - my real parents - my whole life. You told me I was tied into this."

"As are they," Rumple offered.

"How?"

The Dark One steeled himself, silently grateful that his curse couldn't reach him here in more than the barest of whispers. "In our world, I can see the future. Pieces, at any rate. I knew your parents would be important to finding my son because you would be important."

"Neal said Mary Margaret is my mom and the guy that was in the coma is my dad."

"Both true."

She snorted, the sound strained. "So I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and I just happened to meet the son of Rumplestiltskin and fall in love with him? Do you know how insane that is?"

"More insane than magic in a land with little to give?" He waited for that to sink in for a moment before standing slowly, moving to join her at the window.

Emma swallowed hard. "If they're the same people from fairytales, they're heroes. What am I supposed to be?"

He found hazel eyes on him and he pursed us lips together, forcing truth through them. He had to keep her onboard. He had to keep her on their side. "You were the key."

"To what?"

"The curse. I'm… good with names. Just before the curse was cast I got yours. I knew you'd be the one to break it. To save them."

"Break it… you mean… my parents could remember me?"

"Indeed they would." He watched that sink in.

"Why me though?"

Rumplestiltskin's lips quirked up. "There's no magic more powerful than True Love, dear, and you're born from it."

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I can barely take care of myself. How am I supposed to save a whole town?"

A soft breath escaped him. "You weren't meant to just yet."

"What do you mean?"

"Twenty-eight. That's what I saw. Exactly that. You'd come to Storybrooke and that would, eventually, lead me to Bae, but… he came. He brought you." He turned to meet her gaze. She deserved that much. "What that means for the curse, I don't know. But what I do know is that you're meant for something more than you've lived. Bae may not have known who you are, but fate's funny like that."

"I have to go back for them. Regina, my parents…. Everyone."

He pushed an amused sound out through his nose. "You are your parents' child."

"Hey," a sleepy greeting pulled both of their attentions around to where Bae stood bleary eyed. "You explain everything?"

"As best I could."

"You good?"

Emma nodded and Barlfire sauntered in, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. "We going back?"

Rumplestiltskin pulled in a surprisingly strong breath. "I think the poison's just about cleared out. Belle's bringing up coffee though. I imagine we should wait."

The simultaneous agreement pulled a real smile from him and he looked to Emma. "Don't fret, dear. You've got some time yet before you have to be anyone's savior."

Bae tightened his hold on her. "Yeah. This is a team effort."

She nodded, even though she didn't look like she entirely believed it. That was fine. She didn't have to. She only needed to live it.

—

They wouldn't let Roland see his papa. Sister Astrid was nice enough, but he didn't like the people that had brought him here and he really didn't like the mean man that had taken Papa away. They wouldn't let him out - "We'll build a snowman in the morning," Sister Astrid had promised. "Won't that be fun?" - but the nice lady stayed to read him a bedtime story.

Roland didn't fall asleep though. To stay awake, he thought about all the things his papa had taught him to do if mean men ever took him. Papa said to watch everything and not to be scared. He just needed to get free and get to the woods and to burrow next to the river where they stored treasure. Papa would find him. No matter what. He's come for him.

The boy waited until Sister Astrid's voice trailed off and he cracked one eye open to see her slumped down in her chair, the book in her lap and her head tilted back in sleep. He waited a little longer - people always woke up if you made noise right after they fell asleep - and finally risked moving. The bed gave a creak and he watched, but the lady didn't stir. After another second or two more, Roland grabbed his boots and his cloak, put them on, and climbed up on the bed so he could reach the window.

It was stuck. It was cold outside and the snow had frozen to it, but he gave it a sharp pull and it broke free. Sister Astrid stirred at that, but Roland was already moving. Out the window, dropping to the porch below, and he darted towards the woods out back. He couldn't let them catch him.

He hit the tree line and heard noise behind him, including the nice lady shouting his name worriedly. He didn't look back, but instead ran through the thick brush, crawled over a fallen tree, and didn't stop. If he did, they'd find him. They'd catch him. He had to get away from the bad men like Papa taught him.

He was tired though, and he didn't recognise anything, even as the earliest morning light began to brighten up his surroundings. This wasn't Sherwood Forest. He didn't know where he was and if he couldn't find the safe place, Papa wouldn't know where to find him.

Roland sniffed hard, running his sleeve across his nose and he heard the sound of the people chasing him. Always look around, Papa had said. He did, and he spotted an opening in the side of a hill that was overgrown and covered with brush. He risked oneglance back before darting forward, slipping through the growth and into the space.

It was dark and cold and it smelled funny, but at least he heard the sound of footsteps racing by. They hadn't found him.

He looked around, the growth blocking most of the light from the outside, but as the footsteps died out, he thought he heard something from deeper inside. He didn't know what, but as he inched closer and closer to the sound - finding the walls of the cave narrow and the ground under his feet slope down - he started to get a better look at where he was. His eyes were adjusting some, but there was also light coming from deeper down. He followed it, careful to stay quiet, until he rounded into a tunnel lit with strange torches lining the wall. He followed them and the noise that sounded like someone was really, really mad.

And she was. It was a lady with dark hair that was yelling at the walls. The walls didn't yell back, which only seemed to make her more mad. Roland jumped back, accidentally kicking loose gravel at his feet and she spun on him. The rage in her eyes softened just a little as her dark eyebrows drew together, her focus entirely on him. "And who are you?" she demanded and Roland stood frozen where he was.

---

Chapter Text

She had thought she had it for a moment. A spark of magic and a break in the wall that, if she'd only been able to make it work, could have been her path to freedom. Instead the spell had rebounded on her, never quite slipping through whatever Magnus had done to trap her magic inside of her, and had thrown her back so that she'd skidded along the rocky pathway. Regina had bounded back to her feet - ignoring every inch of torn clothing, scraped skin, and the fact that she'd lost both heels in opposite directions - and raged at the only thing she could physically get her hands around. Not that the wall moved. The outburst hadn't even really helped her feel better.

But it had terrified the child that appeared out of nowhere behind her. The Evil Queen-turned-mayor blinked in surprise at the boy she didn't recognize. He was small, perhaps around four or five years old, and Regina was sure she'd never seen him before. His clothing certainly wasn't something they often found in their cursed town. No, it was much more in line with the land they were all from. "And who are you?" she demanded, and the little boy froze under one of the lamps Magnus - or maybe whoever worked the mines - had left lit. He stared with wide, unblinking eyes with fear freezing him in place and Regina took a breath, putting effort into softening both her expression and her voice. Who he was didn't matter as much as how he'd gotten there. If he could get in, she could get out. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." The boy didn't seem to believe her and she tried for a smile, leaning over with her hands pressed against the torn knees of her pantsuit so that she was closer to eye-level with him.

At least that wasn't the wrong move to make. His little shoulders that had been pulled back rounded a bit more and the fear in his dark eyes gave away ever so slightly to a more curious expression. He watched her and she did her best to remain patient until he was willing to speak. "I got lost," he said after several long, excruciatingly tedious moments.

Regina glanced in the direction he'd come down. "What were you looking for? Maybe I can help."

He sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his ratty sleeve. "My bad man took him and I'm 'spose to find the safe place." Tears welled up in his eyes and he looked down at his dirty boots as a sob bubbled up.

Panic clawed at the Evil Queen as the child that was beginning to blubber. It started quiet at first, but as it grew louder, she heard the telltale signs of a creature stirring deep within the bowels of the mines. She didn't think that Maleficent could make it all the way up here, but she wasn't sure she wanted to bet her life on that.

Which meant she had to find a way to quiet a terrified little boy. Preferably without hurting him.

So instead she reached a hand out, slow and careful, and was absolutely surprised when the boy took that as an invitation and launched himself forward with his tear-streaked face pressed into her blazer. It was Regina's turn to freeze for a fraction of a moment before something strangely instinctual seemed to move her hand of its own volition and she found herself stroking dark hair. "It's alright," she promised.

He looked up at her. "You'll help me find my papa?"

Her red lips quirked up at the corners. "If you can show me how you got in, we'll see what we can do."

—-

Three centuries of weaving threads spun from visions of the future together to create a path to find his son had left Rumplestiltskin with more than just a penchant for deal making. No, deals were simply the tool he used. It was the control that had secured his path to the Land without Magic. Each step, each move was meticulously planned, and he'd learned to manipulate those around him like chess pieces on a board. He'd had to. He certainly couldn't have relied on them to follow the frighteningly narrow road that had led them all here. Not on their own.

And he'd made it. Perhaps not quite like he'd Seen, but he'd been reunited with his son. That fact hadn't wiped away his habit - his need - for control, especially as they went rushing back into the unknown against a powerful and intelligent enemy. It had taken two equally stubborn wills - and Bae's own love's not far behind - and an admittedly solid argument that while all appearances indicated that his system was clear of the poison, they wouldn't know for sure until they crossed back over the town line. It was the idea of putting the two he loved the most in danger that had him sitting - albeit a bit irritably - in the passenger seat of his own vehicle as Bae drove back towards Storybrooke.

It was a good thing too, because the rush of magic that flooded his veins as soon as they crossed the threshold was overwhelming. Bypassing the sheer surprise from it - he had expected to be the only one with the capability of dragging magic through to this word - it had an odd feel to it. The familiar tinge of darkness had him questioning if Regina had been fool enough to try something so desperate or - perhaps more likely - Magnus had forced her into being the conduit. If so, they might be too late after all. Best not to get ahead of himself on that one and tip Emma into an ill-planned attempted rescue.

The strange, almost bitter magic that would take more time and effort to dissect wasn't the only familiarity tugging at him. No… it was a small, vicious voice that had been oh so quiet these past years. Even waking up from the illusion of Mr Gold hadn't done more than stir his curse in the most distant of ways. With magic in Storybrooke, he didn't just feel the darkness that his curse steeped his soul in, he could hear it whispering. Encouraging. He had power again. Power to destroy his enemies. To decimate the clerics once and for all. The others might try to stop him, to hold him back for the sake of the ignorant town that surrounded them, but how else could he truly keep Baelfire safe if he wasn't willing to sacrifice a few useless —

"Papa?"

Bae's voice cut through the rising temptation and Belle's gentle hand on his shoulder from behind helped to push it back to a manageable space in his mind. Rumplestiltskin blinked, pulling a steadying breath through his nose and releasing it between his lips. He reached up to touch his True Love's hand and tried to offer his son a reassuring smile. "I'm alright."

"What happened?"

Don't tell them. They don't understand. They'll only try to hamper you.

He shoved hard at the twilling voice in his mind. No. These weren't some bumbling townsfolk. This was Bae and Belle and the little someday savior that was turning out to be a clever one in her own right. He didn't have to manipulate them. He could trust them, and he would…. once he knew what they were dealing with. Once he had answers.

Bae braked, the small jolt of the vehicle pulling him out of the deal he was mentally working between himself and his curse. He turned to watch his son put the car into reverse. "What're you doing?"

"Getting you out of here."

"I'm fine."

"Didn't look it."

Rumplestiltskin tried for a smile. "I was just… lost in thought."

Baelfire shot him a withering look that said he wasn't fooled by the careful wording.

Emma, from the back, didn't know him quite as well. "If it's not the poison, we should keep going. The longer we sit out here on the road the more likely Magnus is gonna spot us." She paused as Bae craned back to look at her. "Not that that would have happened if we'd switched cars like I said."

Rumple quirked an eyebrow at his son's sudden nervous demeanour. "Switched cars?"

"Nothing," the younger man snapped, turning his eyes back to the road and shifting back into drive. "Where do I turn for this cabin of yours?"

"Just up on the right," his father instructed, and from behind him Belle's gentle touch turned into an equally gentle squeeze before she settled back.

The air was tense with unanswered questions as the car turned down a dirt path, sending dust flying as the tires ground against the loose gravel. Rumplestiltskin's dark eyes scanned every dancing shadow and rustling leaves, feeling for the magic that surrounded him and beginning to weave loose threads he could tighten into a spell should he need to defend them. Everything was in motion, and that was just the present. He didn't dare try to look to the future and miss something quite literally right in front of him. He wasn't sure this brand of magic would even let him. Like so many other things since Bae had found him, this wasn't part of the carefully crafted plan.

There were no lights shining from the cabin. He wasn't sure if he'd actually been there before or if the curse had simply formed up memories that told him he had. If he hadn't, there was a fair chance that there was nothing that Magnus would readily find to link him to the hideaway. Time would tell.

"You have a key or are we getting creative?" Emma asked as the car pulled to a stop.

"On the top lip of the window sill to the left of the door," Rumple answered, and only then was he certain that the cursed memories were the only ones he had of this place.

"It doesn't look like there was a forced entry," Belle murmured from behind him. "Should we drive around behind to check?"

"Just as likely we'll get stuck back there," Bae murmured, and his father could practically see his son's clever mind working the problem out. "Emma, hop up to the driver's seat. Papa and I will go around. If you hear us shout, you kick it into reverse and don't stop, got it?"

"I'm not leaving you here!" she answered emphatically. "I'm not abandoning you."

Bae turned in his seat to catch her eye. "'Course not. You'll come back for us. We just need someone getting out if shit hits the fan."

Rumplestiltskin risked a push of magic outward as Emma Swann weighed her trust in Baelfire's plan. As far as he could tell, no one was there. The problem was that he didn't know what he didn't know about this magic, and that could get them killed. No. Bae's idea was sound. At least as sound as they were going to get.

"You better come back," Emma pressed and Bae flashed her a grin.

"You don't get rid of me that easily. You ready, Papa?"

It took a moment longer than it should have for Rumplestiltskin to pull himself back to where they were. If Bae's look was anything to go by, he noticed, even if he didn't verbalise it. Rumple nodded and opened his door, easing himself out of the passenger side even as Bae and Emma swapped places.

"Be careful," Belle said softly and he offered her a tight smile. This was going to be the closest they could get to safe for the time being.

Bae motioned that he'd go left, his father going right and Rumple had nothing to argue in that. He kept his footsteps and cane as quiet as he could manage as he circled around the cabin, dark eyes looking for signs that someone had found a way in and was either lurking in the shadows or would come back soon. There was nothing. As far as he could tell every window was intact. He met Bae at the back porch, and that door too appeared to be firmly shut, locked, and unbothered.

His son took a closer look under the stairs before climbing them. "This is your last chance to be honest without a full audience," he said as he came to a stop at the edge of the porch, forcing Rumplestiltskin to crane his head to look up at him.

The curse stirred, fighting against the opening Bae had left him. His son was trying to extend an olive branch. To deny it would be pointless. It wouldn't take long before they ran across trouble and magic was flung around for all to see. It wasn't like Bae would believe him even if he lied about it. Of course the Dark One knew that magic had come to Storybrooke.

He hummed softly to himself, limping around to the stairs and mentally striking a quick deal with his curse that promised death and destruction against his enemies in return for trust in him that he knew how to choose his allies. He couldn't risk either Bae or Belle running should he put this off. "Let's get everyone inside." A clear flick of his fingers called magic to flip the internal lock and let the door swing open. He looked around, meeting his son's surprised look.

"That's what you were reacting to," Bae breathed. "Coming over the town line."

"Indeed."

"How?"

Rumplestiltskin pushed a breath out his nose, risking a quick glance to the future. Or it would have been, had magic worked the same here as it did in their world. Now it was an onslaught of fractured images rushing at him with the same ferocity that his own had when he'd first heard Emma's name here. He stumbled, desperate to throw up a shield around his mind, and felt his son's hands against his shoulders. "Papa?"

"I'm alright," he promised. "It works… differently here. How, exactly, remains to be seen." He offered Bae a tight attempt at a reassuring smile and started into the cabin. He could practically feel the questions that remained unasked for the moment hanging in the air as he made his way to the front door and opened it.

The door to the car opened and Emma popped out. "I thought the key was up here!"

Rumple didn't miss his love's studying blue gaze as she slipped out of the back seat, that clever mind of hers working towards possible answers. A sudden rush of magic wasn't the only answer available, certainly, but he didn't dare let her come to the conclusion on her own. He motioned for them both to follow inside where Bae stood waiting for his papa to share the whole truth.

—

They were lost. Not that that was overly difficult to achieve when the escape plan had consisted of following a small child through dark tunnels and hoping he could lead them out the way he'd come in. Somewhere in the more logical part of her mind, Regina knew she couldn't blame him, but that hadn't stopped her temper from boiling over and the boy from crying, the sobs growing and echoing to the point that she was sure someone would hear them. Probably not someone that could or even would help though.

Regina pulled in a steadying breath and knelt next to the boy who had told her his name was Roland. "Hey?" she tried as gently as she could manage. "Don't cry. I just need you to tell me what you remember."

The sniffling was almost as loud as the sobbing, and Regina could have sworn she heard a low growl from somewhere deep in the caves. "I walked… I walked through a wall," he hiccuped. "Then there were lights and you were yelling and —"

"Okay," Regina cut him off. This was pointless. If he'd told her a week ago he'd walked through a wall, she would have thought it was just a childish imagination. But magic had come to Storybooke. Magic that the Clerics were using against her. No. It was much more likely that he'd slipped through a spell meant to let someone enter, but not to allow anyone to leave.

"I wanna go home," Roland sniffled, voice trembling like he might melt down again at any moment.

"You and me both," the Evil Queen grumbled, but tried for a smile that he couldn't see in the deep shadows of the tunnels. The smile faded instantly as she could have sworn the temperature dropped several degrees around them without moving an inch. Roland must have felt it too because he reached out, his small hand finding her leg and fingers clutched at the material of her slacks. This was a problem. They'd gone too far in the wrong direction and they'd made too much noise. "Come on," she coaxed as gently as she could so as not to terrify him any more. He let her take hold of his shoulders and turn him to aim back in the direction that they'd come from.

"What's that?" Roland asked as they turned to find a softly glowing green light in the direction that had been pitch black just a moment before.

Regina swore softly, turning him again to see the same light creeping up that corridor as well, smoke rolling in with it. It was coming from every direction now and there was no escaping it. Maleficent was toying with her.

As the glowing smoke clawed at their feet and a bubbling laugh echoed through the tunnels, Roland practically climbed up into Regina's arms. She took him, warning him not to let go even as she felt the spell drag them from one point to another none too gently.

They landed hard, almost as if they'd been spit out the other side. Regina stumbled, her heels not designed for the rough terrain, and both she and Roland yelped as she hit the ground. A giggle echoed through the tunnel and whipped her attention back to the friend she'd made into an enemy years before.

Regina pushed a determined breath out through her nose. Without magic, she might not have a chance in all the worlds against the Mistress of Evil, but the Evil Queen didn't go down without a fight. Roland, smart boy that he was, inched away as Regina pulled herself to her feet. "You're looking far more… human than I would have expected."

"No thanks to you," the former fairy twilled, her blonde eyebrows dancing and her smile deceptive to those who didn't know her. It didn't fade as her blue eyes flickered over to Roland. "Who's the whelp?"

Roland shrank back again and Regina took a step towards Maleficent, drawing the other woman's attention. "He's not important."

That smile only broadened. "Run along, little one."

Regina expected to hear the boy take off, his one chance at freedom from the monster even a child should have been able to sense right in front of him to take. Though, he hadn't run from her when he'd stumbled across her. Perhaps he wasn't so clever after all. Or perhaps just very little sense, she decided as she risked a glance back to see Roland plastering what he probably thought was a brave expression on his little face and he planted his feet. "Don't hurt her! She's my friend."

"Dear child, Regina is no one's friend."

"She's gonna help me find my papa," he argued in such an earnest little tone that Regina almost snorted a laugh.

Maleficent gave a small hum that rang of insincere amusement as she lifted a hand. Green smoke billowed up, coming to her call. "I'll give you a life lesson, little one," she said to Roland, though her blue eyes turned sharply back towards Regina. "The Evil Queen was never going to help you. She's only ever in it for herself." And with a twitch of her hand, she released the magic, aiming it directly at the woman in question.

Life was a funny thing. As a little girl, Snow wouldn't have dreamed that she'd go on so many adventures. Running for her life from the woman that had saved it once, learning to steal and fight and survive, falling in love…. She certainly wouldn't have been able to predict that the love of her life and she would have to put their newborn daughter into a magical cupboard to give her her best chance to survive a dark curse that was crashing down over them. She remembered holding onto Charming's far-too-still body, blood soaking his shirt, and all she had had was hope. Hope that Emma would save them twenty-eight years later. Hope that she would see them again. Hope that they could be a family.

Emma had come back for them, though far too early. The Blue Fairy wasn't able to give her an answer as to why the savior had come long before she was supposed to be there, other than the fact that she'd followed Rumplestiltskin's son to Storybrooke. They'd met out there in a world utterly foreign to those living in the cursed down, but the lead fairy had had few details to offer on why the Dark One's predictions had been off. She did, at least, seem to have at least some knowledge as to what had happened to get them to this point, and Snow had spent far longer than she'd meant to peppering her with questions on what had happened and what Magnus wanted with her daughter.

"I knew there was something special about her," Snow told her family's patron fairy as they made their way down to the lake where David waited for his and Mary Margaret's morning walk before she went to the classroom for the day. "Even cursed, I just knew. She's smart and beautiful and brave."

"Yes, she is," Blue said quietly, and Snow tried not to dwell too much on the hint of guilt that lay just beneath the words. "And Magnus will use that. We must gather as many as we can to our side to protect her."

"Why don't you restore the town's memories like you restored mine?"

Blue frowned as they made their way along the path. "I used the last of the memory potion on you. We must be clever in our alliances."

Cursed town or not, alliances were one of Snow's strengths, though her heartfelt encouragement flittered away when she saw the figure by the lake. He looked much like he had that fateful day when they'd all been torn away… more whole, though, and she was grateful for it. Snow's grin tugged so hard at her lips that her cheeks strained. "Charming," she breathed out and sprinted forward.

He turned as she approached, that smile she knew so well gracing his lips, but there was something slightly off in his expression. It wasn't until he greeted her that she remembered. "Mary Margaret, I was starting to think you weren't coming today."

Even with the would-be painful reminder that her love didn't truly know her, Snow found her smile remained. He would. She'd make sure he would. "I wouldn't miss it for anything," she swore, her hands going to either side of his face and pulling him in. Her lips met his and he froze for a moment before sinking into the kiss. Slowly his hands trailed up her arms until they gently cupped her face and for a moment they were one. One heart. One mind. As if Regina had never tore them apart.

Slowly they parted, both panting for breath, but he held her gaze in a way that had always left her giddy. She tried to steady herself as best she could with him looking at her like that. It had worked. She knew it would work. She would always find him.

"I'm so glad that—" he started, but she cut him off. They had to focus. There'd be time for them later.

"Charming, Emma found us. She's okay and she's here, but she needs our help."

"Who's Emma?"

And just like that, the world came crashing down on her. She pulled back, staring at him, and confusion etched deeper into his face with each passing moment. "Mary Margaret…?"

The name was like a swift kick to the gut. "You don't remember me, do you?" She whirled in Blue before Charming - no, David - could answer her. "True Love's Kiss can break any curse! Why didn't it work?"

"Because he doesn't know you," a voice said, whipping Snow and Blue's attentions around a fraction before David's. The Blind Cleric stood between the three and the path to the hospital. He looked infuriatingly smug, leaving Snow to square her shoulders and take a protective step between her unknowing husband and the clear threat that had presented himself. Magnus' lips quirked dangerously. "You should have gone to the Town Square as you were instructed."

Tension was thick in the air and Snow's green eyes narrowed as she prepared herself for whatever would come next. It had been a long while since she'd found herself in a physical battle, and while Mary Margaret's life had been a softer one, she wouldn't let that stop her from protecting the people she loved.

But David wasn't the one that held the cleric's attention. It wasn't even Snow. Those milky white eyes turned to look at Blue, Magnus' head tilting as he watched the fairy carefully. "You were a fool to interfere."

"You've gone too far. That girl is innocent in all of this. I will not allow you to sacrifice -"

He moved so quickly that Snow thought he might have teleported. She didn't have time to react and neither did Blue as Magnus' large hand snapped forward, plunging into the Blue Fairy's chest and dragging her heart from it.

"What -?" David managed from behind her, but Snow couldn't tear her eyes away from the inevitable outcome of the impossible feat playing out in front of her. Blue was ancient and powerful. No human - no matter how much magic he'd drawn to himself - should have been able to pluck her heart from her chest. She didn't think even the Dark One had that kind of power.

Blue turned, her dark eyes locking with Snow's own green. "Run," she whispered as Magnus' grip tightened and the beating red heart was turned to dust.

----

Chapter Text

Bae had lived through more terrible experiences than he liked to look back on. Falling through the portal, starving on the streets of London, Neverland, his father becoming the Dark One… The strange thing about it was that almost every terrifyingly terrible event in his life had followed on the shirttails of some kind of happiness, or at least hope for happiness. His childhood had been happy despite the poverty and the fear, and it had certainly been a bright light he could look back on after his fourteenth birthday. He'd thought he'd get his papa back before the portal and he thought he'd found a new family that loved him before Neverland. Now, despite everything life had taught him, he'd let his guard down. He'd fallen in love and he'd let his father back into his life. Much like his childhood, danger was lurking in every shadow, but they could fight it. They could fight everything except for the darkness that his papa let in.

And with magic came the Curse. Papa hadn't said it, but Bae knew. With magic came the end of all the bright lights in his life.

Rumplestiltskin had always liked to keep his hands busy, and that was even more true when he was uncomfortable. Bae had watched him tame that after taking on the Dark One's curse, but he'd seen hints of it around Mr Gold. Now, as his father explained that magic had come to Storybrooke, he moved around the little cabin, rummaging and looking for who knew what as he spoke.

Yes, he'd felt it as soon as they crossed the town line.

No, he was not responsible for bringing it.

No, he wasn't sure how Magnus had managed it, but if there was one thing he knew about the old cleric, it was that he was equal parts resourceful and determined.

Baelfire pushed down his own creeping fears for just a moment to risk a look over at his father's True Love. Belle had taken a seat on a sofa, her clear blue eyes watching as he moved, and she was very, very quiet for her curious nature. Her silent observation only seemed to make Rumplestiltskin more nervous. His dark eyes darted between Belle and Bae, finally taking a breath.

It was Emma who piped up though. "Okay, so isn't magic just magic? You can use it, right?"

He pursed his lips together thoughtfully before taking a careful knee next to a low set of drawers to work his way through them. "There's light magic and dark magic," he began, his tone surprisingly patient on the subject. "This is… something else."

"Grey?" she offered, looking at Bae for confirmation. He shrugged and his father opened another drawer.

"There's certainly magic that doesn't lend to either extreme, but this is not that."

There was an inflection at the end of the sentence that caught both Bae's and apparently Belle's attention, but if Rumplestiltskin realised it, he didn't acknowledge it.

"Light magic has many more rules to follow for its use, and while the clerics claim to only use light magic, Magnus has been known to bend those rules to the point of breaking."

"How?" Emma asked, moving to plop down into the chair that Bae had propped himself up against.

"Like using light magic for torture," Belle murmured softly, drawing all eyes - even Rumplestiltskin's - to her.

Brown eyes flickered immediately back to the drawer. "Indeed."

"I'm gonna guess you have a theory on how he dragged magic into a world that's known for not having any?" Bae asked quietly. He was certain he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Likely that he attempted to manipulate the curse."

"Wouldn't he need something to do that? Whatever scroll or…." Person that cast it. Oh. That's what his father wasn't saying. What he was avoiding.

"Or what?" Emma pressed.

"How he did it doesn't matter nearly as much as how to use it myself. That's goin' take time."

Bae quirked an eyebrow at his papa. "You opened the door just fine."

"That's small. Something I could do in my sleep. Simple movements, teleportation… that's nothing, but if I'm going up against Mangus, we better be sure that I know the threads to pull together for the spell."

"And there's no way to defeat him without magic?" Belle asked softly, even if she sounded like she knew the answer. Someone had to ask, though.

"No."

Bae shifted his weight, trying to find the best way to ask the question that he knew he needed an answer to, but didn't want. His father closed the drawer he'd been looking through. "I need some items from the shop." He turned, meeting his son's gaze as if he were waiting for him to ask. "So if you've got a question, now's the time."

Baelfire swallowed hard. "Can you hear it?"

Whatever his papa was expecting, that hadn't been it. He started and stopped a couple of times, fidgeting and looking away. "Of course I can hear it, son."

"Can you fight it?"

"It - it's not so much fightin' it," he answered softly, the discomfort rolling off him in waves. He had hated discussing anything regarding the curse in front of anyone else when Bae had been young. Apparently that quirk still stood. "It's about striking a deal with it. The Dark One's curse, as the name would imply, feeds off darkness. That comes in many a form. When this is over, it'll come in Magnus' destruction and that… well, that's something I imagine you and I can agree on needin' to happen."

"And everyone else?"

"Are safe from me as long as they don't get in my way."

"What about that dagger?" Emma asked. "You said that someone holding onto it could control you. Is it -?"

"Safe. Soon as I felt magic, I put it away where only I can reach it."

Bae's eyes narrowed a little as he could practically see the wheels turning in Emma's head. That was the look that had produced the very best and the very worst ideas she came up with. There didn't seem to be any middle ground there.

"So what if Neal holds onto it?"

Rumplestiltskin turned sharply to look at her. "And why would he need to do that?"

"Well he seems kinda freaked out by whatever you get your power from and just because you believe you can control it doesn't mean you can." She held up her hands, palms outward almost immediately. "Doesn't mean you can't. I'm the last person to know that, but I do know your son. He's a good guy and he loves you. Seems like the best person to trust with it."

And apparently those rare moments when it was both the best and the worst idea at the exact same moment. Bae felt like he couldn't breathe as he watched his papa turn the idea over in his mind, Belle sitting quietly just out of reach. She didn't move, didn't try to sway him, but watched and waited. When he glanced her way, she offered him a reassuring smile.

Rumplestiltskin loosed a breath in the form of a sigh, flicked his fingers, and the Kris Dagger appeared in his hand. Bae did his best not to recoil at the sight of the evil thing that had done its damndest to destroy his father. It hadn't won, though, at least not yet, and his papa flipped the dagger over to hand it to him hilt-first.

"Are you sure?" Bae found himself asking.

"I chose it once," he answered, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "Now I choose you. I trust you, Bae. I love you."

Baelfire reached out and his fingers skimmed along the handle and, as they closed around the hilt, his eyes met his papa's. Without warning he reached his free hand up and around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug that the older man readily returned, burying his face in the crook of Bae's neck. "I love you too, Papa. I'll guard it with my life."

"Don't you dare. Any sign of trouble, you call. You call me and I'm right here to protect you." He reached up to make sure Bae met his eyes. "Not it. You."

He shook his head, not willing to trust his own voice and Belle cleared her throat from where she'd stood. "Well then. We should get over to the shop, Rumple."

"We?"

She tipped up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek. "We. Let's give the kids some time alone while it's still something like quiet."

His father nodded and Bae felt a small smile tug into place as he adjusted his grip on the Dark One's dagger. Belle had been good for him, that much was clear. And maybe, when this was all said and done, they could find a way to free his father from the curse for good. Until then, they'd make the Dark One's curse work for them.

----

There was a shift in the air, and for a moment Magnus mistook it for Reul Ghorm's death. The fairy lay dead at his feet, her dark eyes wide and hollow, her sacrifice in vain even as her precious Snow White grabbed her cursed prince by the wrist and ran. There was no escape, not from Storybrooke. He was even willing to give them a head start - to play the game fairly, of course - but a fraction of a moment later his mind registered that it had not been the death of an Original Power in the Land Without Magic that had rattled the fabric of the curse. No, she had nothing to do with its casting or even bringing magic to this place. Her death - tragic as its necessity had been - made little difference to the fabric of this world. The author of the Dark Curse had returned, and not just that. He had already begun experimenting with the magic he found here. Magnus could feel the power radiate out, and if given just a moment, he could pinpoint where…

And then he was floating, disengaged from his own physical form with a view few would ever know. Rumplestiltskin had not stolen every form of sight from him. He could see the woods, the dirt, and tracks through it where a vehicle had driven. He moved through the space in search for the epicentre of the magic used until he came across a cabin. There. That's where he was, at least for now.

"... going?" a voice cut through, ripping Magnus from the vision and he blinked sightless eyes, sweeping magic over the physical landscape to find Snow and her prince still trying to make their escape. The second flush of power froze everything in place. The birds silenced mid-air and the fish in the pond stilled as they swam. On the banks, desperate to get around and away, were the savior's parents.

Magnus moved unhurriedly towards them, his footsteps powerful and his sightless gaze fixed on them. He could feel Snow squirm against his spell that had locked her in place. "I won't let you touch her!" she growled, every inch the fighter that he'd heard of from the edge of his battle with the Dark One.

"I have no wish to hurt her," Magnus said and the emotion flooding through the strings of magic he had in place gave him a visual of her wide, green eyes and jaw that had gone a little slack in surprise.

Then, all at once, surprise was replaced with fortified determination. "You killed Blue for standing in the way of getting to Emma. Why do you think I'd believe a word that comes out of your mouth?"

"Mary Margaret," her prince managed, "I can't move."

"You are not alone," Magnus said as he stepped aside, pulling his phone from his pocket, the only number that he kept on speed dial ringing as he set it up against his ear. "He has returned to Storybrooke. Gather the twins and the thief up. We will not leave this to chance." Caiden confirmed from his end and Magnus ended the call, turning back towards the royal couple.

"I have no wish to hurt Emma," he repeated. "I also have no choice. Once the Dark One is dead, she is our only way home. I know it comes as no condolence for a mother whose child was stolen away from her by a madman with only his own endeavours in mind, but her sacrifice is her destiny. I will save us from this evil and she will take us home."

"Rumplestiltskin isn't the one threatening my daughter," Snow snarled. "I won't let you touch one hair on her head!"

"The decision is not yours to make." And with that, magic swirled around them as Magnus transported them to the only place deep enough below ground that the curious and cursed townspeople steered clear of.

-----

Her ears were ringing and somehow she found herself on the floor. She didn't know how she'd gotten there or even where there was. The ground was hard under her and when she finally managed to curl her fingers under her she could feel the rocky flooring. Slowly, painfully, she pried her dark eyes open to find the space washed in green light and a pair of small boots appeared, running directly at her. Their owner dropped and one little hand shook and shook her. "Gina. Gina!"

Regina groaned and shifted. Her head was killing her. What the hell was this kid - "Roland?" she managed, finally putting a name with the little voice that hadn't called her by name until that very moment. Or maybe a handful of moments before. She wasn't sure. Something told her she wouldn't have known if he had.

"Well isn't that interesting?" a familiar voice hummed as heeled boots sounded against the hard ground. That's right. Maleficent. She'd thrown a curse at her hard enough to pick her fully up off the ground and slam her against the wall. If Regina had had her magic, it would have been easy enough to deflect, but as it stood…

The Mistress of Evil squatted down, her jacket's long train that was much more suited to the Enchanted Forest pooling on the ground as she got a closer look at the downed, powerless Evil Queen. "Laugh it up," Regina growled, forcing herself to her knees. Everything screamed at her to stay down in painful jabs and sharp pricks of pain, but she ignored them. At the very least she could start healing her pride by getting to her feet and taking a physical swing at the sorceress.

"What did he do to you?"

Dark eyes blinked rapidly, trying to clear the blurriness that her movement was causing, and she looked up to find a strangely concerned look on Maleficent's features. Would wonders never cease?

A small hand took hold of her sleeve and she looked over to see a very worried little boy next to her. For some reason, her irritation and embarrassment took a backseat and she tried for a smile. "I'm alright."

Roland's dark brows drew together and he turned a glare on Maleficent as he moved between the former fairy and the downed queen. There was a beat of silence as the little boy thought he was protecting Regina from the powerful sorceress that had attacked her, but it didn't take long for both women to crack and their laughter echoed through the tunnels. Regina could feel it through her bruised ribs and in every strained muscle, but she couldn't stop herself, and as the laughter continued - the little boy getting more and more frustrated by the second - it was the first truly familiar thing that she had known in nearly two decades.

"What did you do to garner such loyalty?" Maleficent chuckled as she sidestepped the child to reach a hand down to her old friend.

In the moment, despite what had just unfolded, Regina took it, her quip drowned out by the child in question. "She's my friend. Don't hurt her."

"No, I think you've protected her quite well," Maleficent murmured, real amusement finally in her voice. She turned her pale gaze back to Regina. "It's clear what happened, but I do confess to being curious as to how."

"Magnus. The Blind Cleric."

"I presumed as much. His little acolytes have been scurrying these mines like rats for years now. There wasn't much to do about it other than give them reason to avoid me…. Until magic came."

"As brief as that was for me."

"Might have saved your life. I was very put out with you."

"Why?" Roland asked and Maleficent smiled toothily at him.

"Aren't you precious? See, Regina? I told you pets are comforting." She turned that curious expression she wore back on Roland. "Because your friend Gina locked me away. And not just that, she locked me away as a dragon."

Roland's dark eyes went wide. "Why?"

"Because I dared to tell her no. She doesn't like that very much."

"Like you're any better," Regina groused as she finished her personal inventory. She was relatively sure nothing was broken. She turned back to her - former? - friend. "But magic's back, even if Magnus has cut me off from it. Why haven't you left?"

"He had everything set up for the day he'd bring it here, I suppose. All the right wards in place that activated the moment magic came sweeping through. Imagine it. The best I get is this form, but if I try to leave? I'm thrown right back to where I started. He was ready for this, not that anyone would expect any less from him. The man does know how to plan."

"Not like Rumple."

"Ooh. Now there's the battle of the millenia. How long's it been since those two actually went head-to-head? Was it before your time?"

"I don't know. Rumple didn't like to talk about him."

"Rumplestiltskin playing things close to the vest? Shocking."

The corner of Regina's lip tugged up at that, only broadening as an idea stuck her. "You could piggy back out of here. The moment you feel that shift, you can use the brief rupture in the containment spell to teleport out."

"Only if I took the person coming in with me. No. I have no interest in landing on the Blind Cleric's map."

"How're you gonna get out then?" Roland asked sincerely.

"Oh, sweet child. When you've been alive as long as I have you understand that curses don't last forever. Not even ones Regina here casts. Sooner or later it'll be broken and we'll all go catapulting back to our own world… or what's left of it. This isn't forever."

The jab struck deeper than Regina cared to admit. Her curse was as airtight as any curse could be. "Isn't it?"

"I'm in no rush, dear. I don't have a cleric breathing down my neck."

"So send us out. You don't want to fight him, fine. Rumple and I will wage our war, and when we win -"

"Bold assumption."

"- I'll free you."

That dangerous smile returned. "You'll still owe me that fight."

Regina matched it. "I wouldn't miss it for either world."

The smile faded and Maleficent tilted her head. She felt something moving. Something Regina could only hope she'd feel again someday. "He's coming?"

"Maybe. They don't always join."

"Send us."

"Both of you?"

"I promised the kid I'd help him find his father if he helped me get out. He led me to you who may just get us out."

"Look at you becoming a woman of your word." The mirth washed away. "It may not be Magnus coming, but it may well be. I have no way to know for sure."

"I understand." Regina looked down at Roland. "If I tell you to run, you run. Don't look back. Don't stop. Do you hear me?"

"But -"

"Do you hear me?"

He nodded and Regina turned to Maleficent. The older sorceress gave her a crooked smile. "Tell Rumple I said good luck. He's going to need every ounce of it."

"We all will."

Without warning, they were pulled away, Maleficent's magic shoving them through the crack in the containment spell and hurtling towards the unknown.

----

He had thought the world he had woken up to was crazy enough. He couldn't remember his name or his life or what had happened that had put him into a coma for… no one seemed to be able to tell him how long. Storybrooke was a strange place, but he'd done his best to convince himself that it was because he was limited to the hospital grounds. The few people that he saw regularly from the outside seemed normal enough.

Mary Margaret had seemed normal enough. At least until that morning. Now he didn't know what the hell was happening. Some towering blind man had killed a woman - a nun - by ripping her heart out of her chest and was talking about hurting someone else. Mary Margaret's daughter? None of it made sense. Not the shift in the woman he was beginning to fall for or the unexplainable events that looked like something out of one of the movies he'd watched while passing the time in the hospital. Part of him knew he didn't remember enough to know it wasn't real, but another part of his mind screamed at him that it couldn't be. This was a dream. Maybe he was still asleep and none of this had really happened.

He was jolted out of his desperate attempt to piece something that made sense together as they were ripped from where they were standing. He thought he saw some sort of smoke swirl around them and his grip tightened on Mary Margaret's hand as he felt like he was being dragged through the air. His feet were under him when he landed though, catching only the briefest of glimpses of what looked like a cave before the smoke turned green and he was right back where he'd started: standing by the lake with Mary Margaret's hand clutched tightly in his and the dead nun a few yards away.

He blinked hard, feeling like he'd gotten whiplash from the sudden movements, and found that they weren't alone. A woman stood with them, dressed in a torn pantsuit with short dark hair, and at her side was a little boy that couldn't have been older than four. His face was set in a determined sort of way like he was desperate to hide just how scared he was and he looked up at the woman whose dark gaze swept the terrain to settle on Mary Margaret. Her mouth dropped open as if she were looking for something to say, but Mary Margaret beat her to it, loosening her grip on his hand to step in front of him. "Regina. Of course you're behind all of this!"

Somehow the woman - Regina - managed to look even more startled than before. "Snow?"

"This doesn't make any sense. Why would you be aligned with Magnus? I thought you and Rumplestiltskin were -"

Regina's expression darkened immediately. "I would never align with that cleric." She paused, glancing down at the boy who was watching with wide, dark eyes, and she let her hand drop so that he could take hold of it. He did without hesitation. "Magnus had us trapped in the mines."

"The lady with the green smoke got us out," the boy piped up.

Mary Margaret's dark brows drew together. "Who?"

Regina bristled irritably. "Doesn't matter. Hello there, David. You look… confused."

The man that finally realized she was referring to as David blinked. "I don't…. What the hell is going on?" He looked to Mary Margaret. "Who's David?"

Mary Margaret turned back to him. "You are. It's okay. It'll make sense. We just have to find a way to help you remember." Slowly, an idea seemed to dawn on her and her pretty green gaze slid back to the other woman. "And Regina can help with that."

Regina snorted. "Oh. And why would I do that? This -" she motioned between them - "is better than I could have dreamt. You remember everything and he remembers nothing. Your prince is gone, Snow, and you have to look at the empty shell wearing his face every day." A smile broadened, but it was anything but pleasant. "I won. And now you'll live through the hell that you put me through for so long."

Frustration bubbled up at her vicious expression and the way her words seemed to slice through Mary Margaret. David took a step around the petite woman. He wasn't sure what to say or what to do, but he felt the sudden urge to do something. To protect her. Somehow.

Mary Margaret reached a hand out and it touched David's arm gently, but when he glanced back she was looking at Regina. There was something in her eyes that said she had a plan. She knew exactly what she needed to do. "You're going to help us because our goals are aligned. Because we can help you take down Magnus."

Regina snorted. "How did that work out for you just now?"

The little boy gave a tug on her hand. "Papa says we help friends."

"They are not our friends," she countered.

"But they wanna help!"

"We do," Mary Margaret pressed, turning her one-hundred watt smile on the little boy. "And we can. If Regina will let us."

He turned those big brown eyes up to the woman whose hand he was still clutching and David could have sworn he saw her hardened expression ease a little bit. "Please, Gina! Please can the nice lady help?"

Regina bristled at that and shot Mary Margaret a look that was one part distrust and the other loathing. "We don't have time for this. If you just can't stop yourself from tagging along, I won't stop you, but we can't just keep standing here in the open," she grumbled after a long moment.

"Are we gonna go find Papa?"

This time David was sure it was the little boy that softened her. "We're going to go find a way to find him."

He lit up at that and David looked over to Mary Margaret. There was a strange, distant look in her eyes, like she was caught up in an old memory. So caught up that she didn't start moving even as Regina and the boy did. "C'mon," he coaxed, taking her hand. "Otherwise I'm pretty sure she'll leave us behind."

She nodded and offered him a smile as she tightened her grip on him. "Don't worry. We'll get your memories back. I promise."

There was something in her tone that made him think only a fool would bet against her.

-----

Emma wasn't sure how long Belle and Gold had been gone, but the deafening silence that had settled in as Neal turned the weirdly shaped knife that was somehow linked to his father's magic powers - okay, that was all still so weird, even after she'd seen him toss around small flickers of magic as casually as he breathed - was about to drive her insane. There was so much at stake right now with so many unknowns. Not just the people she'd come to care about and the ones she thought she might want to care about a little more, but the question that she'd pushed to the back of her mind since the hotel. She was young, but she wasn't stupid. That's why Belle had wanted to give them time. She thought Emma should talk to Neal about it. Sure, talk to him and blow everything up. If he even thought there was a possibility that she was pregnant he'd grab her by the wrist, throw her into the car, and they'd be gone before they ever helped anybody. And Gold wasn't there to help with that beaten-puppy look that he'd given his son the last time that had helped to keep him there.

So she'd let him brood and Emma scoured every inch of the small cabin. Every bookshelf and nicknack. Every coat closet and quilt rack. She'd even gotten desperate enough to act like she was interested in the mantle over the fireplace. It was a small cabin.

The longer time stretched on, the more stir crazy she was becoming. They hadn't come all the way back to Storybrooke just to sit on their asses, and while it might be smart to wait until the one guy who could actually use magic came back to risk running across Magnus, eventually Neal might ask what Belle had been referring to.

With a huff, she turned towards the door. That, apparently, was enough to catch her boyfriend's attention. "Hey? Where're you going?"

He hadn't moved from where he'd curled himself into a chair, knees bent and knife in hand, but those dark eyes of his were fixed on her in a way that always made her feel like he could read her mind. When she'd first met him, it had left her feeling exposed, but the longer she knew him - the more she fell for him - those eyes had become home. A focused look like he had on her would, in most circumstances, calm any nerves. This was definitely not most circumstances.

"We came back to help Regina and apparently my parents are still out there. We don't know what's going on or what Magnus and his creeps know. I can -"

Then he was on his feet, his expressive features pulled in worry. "Emma, no. He knows you're with us. He -"

"Might come after me? Yeah. I got that part. Does it have something to do with the curse? Does he think I can help him or -"

"Pop thinks he might try to kill you to send everyone back home," Neal blurted she finally stilled.

"What?"

Neal dragged in a breath that didn't seem to calm the fear at all. "Papa doesn't think you can break the curse now, but he said he put a failsafe in to keep… anyone from going after you before you had a chance to come back and break it. If you die, everyone that's here and that's from the Enchanted Forest goes back."

"Does that mean you too?"

"I don't know. Maybe, but I think you're missing the point." He stepped forward, reaching his free hand out to her and she took it, letting him pull her closer. "I'm not going to lose you. I get that you couldn't just run from this, but we have to play it smart. Promise?"

She couldn't help but squeeze his fingers between hers and she risked a look up into those dark eyes. Damn the man. Yeah. There was no way she was telling him about a kid until this was all over. "Yeah," she said quietly and saw at least a little of his tension ease. A corner of his lips twitched upward and he leaned in. Emma felt her eyes close as he pressed his lips against hers and she reached her own free hand up to the side of his face, guiding him a little deeper into the kiss.

"I love you," he whispered softly.

Hazel eyes fluttered open. "You too."

His expression turned a little more mischievous. "You know, they could be gone for a while."

Blonde eyebrows danced upward. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean -" He stopped abruptly, his gaze sliding towards the back door.

Emma snorted a laugh. "You were saying?"

"Did you hear that?"

"No…."

The door blew open like it'd been kicked in and revealed a lanky man with sandy hair and a dangerous smile curling his lips. A startled sound escaped Emma as Neal dragged her around, putting himself between her and the clearly unfriendly new guest. His opposite hand settled behind him, presumably to keep her from darting the other direction, but Emma saw the knife clutched carefully between his fingers.

"We don't want to hurt the girl or you," another voice said from the back door and both Emma and Neal's attentions jerked around to see a blond man in some kind of costume. With him was another man that looked identical to the one that had barged in the front door.

The second twin sneered. "Give up the dagger, boy."

Neal squared his shoulders, backing Emma up a couple of steps to reposition himself to jump in either direction. "Like hell I'm gonna -"

And then he was being thrown like someone had tugged hard on invisible strings. Neal crashed hard into the wall, but didn't let go of the dagger. Instead he grit his teeth, anger rolling off of him in waves, and he turned that determined gaze on his enemy at the front door. "Rum -"

There was a flick of the man's wrist, much like Gold had done to open doors and cabinets and the like while searching through the cabin. This didn't open doors, but instead sent out a strong gust of something powerful enough that Emma thought she saw it glisten through the air. The streak of power sliced through her boyfriend like knives that had been thrown, tossing him back harder than the first time and dragging a cry of pain from him.

A hush fell over the cabin as he crumbled to the ground, the fight over before it had really begun and Emma wondered if that's what magic really was. No wonder Neal didn't like it. She didn't think she liked it either.

And then all eyes fell on the dagger that had been driven loose from the groaning young man and as quickly as everyone had frozen in their place, they sprang into action again.

-----

"I'm very proud of you."

Belle's voice drew Rumple's attention from where he'd been carefully mixing a potion that he'd prefer to take whole rather than in its more combustive individual parts back to the cabin. "What for, dear?"

Her smile was soft and kind, and Rumplestiltskin felt the fluttering in his chest that it always elicited. "For trusting Bae with the dagger."

His curse stirred dangerously at the reminder that it wasn't in control and Rumplestiltskin pushed hard against it as he turned back to his potion-making, his skilled fingers tipping one ingredient into the waiting beaker to see it darken and begin to bubble angrily until he pinched the root he'd ground down into dust and sprinkled it in. The mixture gave to that, the colour shifting again and smoking wafting upward. "Of course I trust Bae," he murmured, risking a quick glance in her direction to find her smile hadn't faded. If anything, it had grown.

"Is it ready?"

"Just about," he answered, relieved to shift the topic away from his own vulnerabilities. "Another minute or so and it'll be stable enough to go back with us."

"Do we not need to protect the shop?"

"Oh no. There're enough wards in this place to keep even Magnus out now that they've got magic to pull from."

As if in response to the statement, the bell above the front door gave a sharp, abrupt jingle like someone had rattled the door without getting it opened. He met Belle's sharp look and motioned for her to stay where she was, grateful that she didn't argue the point. If Magnus' people were trying to come in through less-than-magical means, she wouldn't be in the direct line of fire.

Rumplestiltskin pushed through the curtain and towards the front door where he could hear muffled voices and the sound of someone trying to jimmy the lock.

"I thought you were supposed to be good at this!" the familiar and irritable voice of Regina Mills growled from the other side of the door.

"It's been a while," the more surprising voice of Snow - Mary Margaret in this world - answered in what she likely thought was a hushed tone. "And why can't you just magic it open?" Interesting. Somehow Snow had woken up.

Rumple flicked his fingers, the lock flipped, and the door swung open to reveal three surprised faces. "Because Regina, for all her talent, never could break my wards." He flashed them a sharp grin.

Snow White gaped a little as she stared at him. "Rumple…stiltskin? Is that you?"

He heard the light sound of footsteps and the curtain opening behind him as Belle joined the more or less friendly crowd. "Indeed it is," he answered without bothering to curb the amusement in his voice. "And my my…. There must be quite a story here. Tell me, Regina, how did you come by your step-daughter and her charming husband in all of this?"

The prince in question gave him a strange look at the statement while the Evil Queen's lips tugged downward. "What do you think? Magnus."

"It's good to see you're alright," Belle offered.

"Of course I am," she answered briskly and movement caught Rumple's attention. Hiding behind her torn pant legs and utterly unnoticed up until that point, a little boy with a mop of dark hair peeked around.

Rumplestiltskin may have finally noticed him, but it was Belle who greeted him. "Hello there. Who might you be?"

The little boy moved just a bit more out into the open. "Roland," he answered, never straying far from Regina. Rumple didn't miss how she reached down and the boy instantly grabbed her hand. "Are you gonna help us find my papa?"

The Dark One snorted, ready to wave the child off and tell him they had bigger issues to worry about, but Belle shot him a look like she just knew what was going through his mind. "We'd love to help," she said firmly.

Rumple snorted as he turned to limp back into the shop a bit further. "Well c'mon now. Don't just stand there in the doorway. Wards work best on sealed walls. We'll need to -"

And then he felt it. The jarring pull of his curse as the summoning slammed into him by way of his name being called and his own magic snapped him out of the shop.

----

They stood there, the pawn shop suddenly short one obnoxious sorcerer, and Regina's gaze snapped to Belle. "Where the hell did he go?"

To the side, the amnesiatic David looked like he'd finally hit his quota of unexplainable events. His eyes went wide as he turned to Snow. "What just happened? Did he… disappear? What -"

"Magic, David," Snow said quietly, her expression strained as she reached out in a comforting manner.

Belle's blue gaze remained fixated on the spot where her lover had just been standing, but instead of that irritatingly determined look that seemed to be a steady fixture on her features, the younger woman looked… worried. Afraid. She swallowed hard and seemed to try to steal herself. "Baelfire has Rumple's dagger."

"Who's Baelfire?" Snow demanded.

"Rumple's son," Regina answered dismissively.

"Neal?!"

The fear in Belle's eyes shifted and there was that damnable look. "Regina, we need to go. If Bae summoned Rumple, then he and Emma will be -"

"Regina, she's right. We have to go," Snow said, her voice strangely unsteady and when Regina turned she found those large green eyes fixed on her and pleading. "I know you said you couldn't teleport us because Magnus would know, but he already knows. We can't waste any more time!"

Dark eyes remained fixed on the younger queen. "Why do you care what happens to Rumple's son and his little girlfriend?"

Snow's jaw dropped like she was going to answer, then snapped shut. Again and again she tilted between whatever two options she thought she had and David finally slowed his own spiral into panic long enough to step forward, uncertain but desperately trying to return the comfort he'd just received. "I'm sure she'll be alright."

And then it clicked. It all made sense. "Emma. Your daughter."

"Regina please…"

"She can't help you."

Everyone in the room spun to see that the open doorway had been filled by none other than Magnus' right-hand cleric. Caiden stood with his usual sombre expression, blocking their exit. Regina grabbed Roland and pulled him behind her while Snow took a protective step in front of Charming. It was the only movement they could make before magic washed over them and every muscle froze in place.

---

Chapter Text

The girl was fast. Even as Silas dove for the loosed dagger that the clerics were convinced would control the Dark One, the blonde wrapped her fingers around it. Her shout was garbled and uncertain, as if she didn't quite know how to wrap her tongue around the name she called. She got it out, though, and apparently it was close enough because magic swirled as a man appeared in the main room of the cabin.

He looked very little like the demon that Robin had encountered when he'd broken into the Dark Castle so many years before. Gone were the gold scales and the crimped hair, leaving behind a thin man - almost fragile looking in the way he leaned against his cane - who appeared briefly startled at being dragged from wherever he'd been before. That didn't last, though, and Robin watched the shift as his dark eyes sharpened and he quickly took in the situation. Silas at the opposite door, he and Soren blocking the back exit, and in between lay a broken and beaten young man and his blonde companion.

Magic swept out, slamming hard into the twins and Robin, and the Prince of Thieves found himself skidding back, Soren tossed even further and out the open back door. It had been a broad attack, but as he scrambled he could see the Dark One levelling a more focused one on Silas. The cleric let out an ear-piercing screech when magic ripped into him. Robin watched, frozen in place more by horror than by the earlier blow, as dark magic ripped at the cleric and - even through the horrifying scream - he thought he could actually hear the sound of bones breaking. He'd been on the receiving end of Rumplestiltskin's ire, but as he watched a man die in front of his eyes, he started to think that the Dark One had let him off easily after all.

Soren let out an angry shout from somewhere beyond the door and startled Robin back into action. He notched his bow, taking aim and ready to fight for his life as the Dark One turned his attention around to them. Behind him, Silas' lifeless body crumpled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Those dark eyes fell on him. "Is this what Belle's mercy bought from you, Locksley?" Rumplestiltskin demanded. "She gives you your life and you come for my son?"

Robin set his stance and adjusted his grip ever so slightly on his bow. "They have mine. I have no choice in this alliance."

Strangely enough, the building rage that was directed at him seemed to stall just a little, even if he looked like he was still fighting the urge to do to him what he'd done to Silas. "Your boy? Roland?"

His son's name from the demon's mouth had been the last thing he'd expected and he didn't dare trust his own voice. Instead, he managed a nod even as the sound of footsteps echoed up the back porch steps.

And then the malice in his eyes was fully put away, almost as if he'd won whatever internal battle he'd been waging. "He's safe. Away from this lot."

Back home, whispers about the Dark One flowed. Some were true, some weren't, and some they would never truly know, but one thing that Robin had heard from every corner was that the Dark One never lied. He hadn't believed it before, but in that moment - if it was because it was true or he simply wished it to be - he did.

Soren came barreling through the door and slammed to a stop at the sight of his brother. Robin turned just enough to see him out of the corner of his eye. The boiling rage, the desperation… He let out a wail that echoed through the small cabin as he lurched forward and Robin couldn't swear his mind and body were perfectly in sync as he spun and loosed the arrow that had been notched for Rumplestiltskin.

It flew and lodged deep in the remaining twin's chest, killing him before Soren ever knew what had happened. Well, wherever men like these clerics went once death took them, he'd join his brother there.

Silence followed the thudding body until the blonde girl dragged in a gasping breath. "Gold! He's not breathing!"

The Dark One's curious look sharpened as he turned back towards his injured son and he took a knee next to him. Tears fell down the girl's face as she clutched the dagger in one hand and the dark haired young man against her with the opposite arm. "I can't… I can't lose him. You have magic, right?" she managed. "He's going to be okay?"

Robin stood as still as the two dead men and watched as Rumplestiltskin's thin hands ran over the broken form. "I can't… I don't…" He swallowed hard as if he were trying to gain control of his increasingly unsteady emotions. "Magic's different here."

"You used it to kill them!"

"Darkness isn't the issue. Healing someone else… it's not something I can use my curse for."

She turned wide, hazel eyes on him. "He's dying! You have to save him!"

There was a small flicker in the Dark One's expression that Robin couldn't place. He didn't argue, but instead reached forward and the magic that wrapped around his son shimmered ever so slightly in the air around him as if it were threading together. Bit by bit, wounds stitched up, glossing over and healing right in front of their eyes, and finally - after what seemed like an eternity - dark eyes flashed open and the boy that Robin had heard them refer to as Baelfire sucked in a deep, startled breath. Perhaps possession of that dagger really did give one full command over the Dark One.

The girl bent over him, dropping the knife as she wrapped her other arm around him and loosed a loud sob. "You're okay!"

"Ow," he managed, though Robin thought he heard a soft chuckle in the complaint. Those eyes - so much like the ones his father wore in this world - swept out over the room. "Papa."

The Dark One offered a crooked smile, even as he touched the discarded knife and it disappeared to places only he knew. "How're you feelin', son?"

"Okay… I think." He looked over the two dead men before his gaze fell on Robin. "Hi?"

"Robin of Locksley," the Prince of Thieves said by way of greeting before turning back to Rumplestiltskin. "As much as I'm hesitant to interrupt this…"

"Your own boy. Of course. Fair enough payment for your help in the matter."

He waved his hand, magic swirled, and Robin held his breath as he waited for his little boy to appear.

----

She remembered the day that he'd simply appeared in the Great Hall. Broken. Bleeding. She hadn't really known that he could bleed until that day. There were so many stories and legends that surrounded the Dark One that it was difficult to pick fact from fiction early on, but the one that said he couldn't die had been utterly dispelled as the sun had sunk behind the mountain and Belle had struggled to keep him awake. She hadn't known Magnus' name at the time, but she'd seen the marks that his endless battle he waged with Rumple had left on the man she'd eventually grown to love. She'd nearly lost him that day, and now they were trying to take him away again.

She'd be damned if she let them.

"That's him," Roland managed from behind Regina, cowering back and gripping the fabric of her slacks. "He took me and Papa away."

"Why don't you let me take you back to him, little one?" the cleric offered, his tone neither holding a false kindness nor was it as menacing.

"Why don't you bring him here?" Regina countered. "We'll make a trade. I'll give you Snow and Charming. Two for one."

"Hey!" Snow snapped from her place.

Regina turned to her, her expression insincerely perplexed by the outburst. "What? You want to go to your daughter and I promised the boy his papa. Everybody wins."

"Or you can zap him with your magic and we'll go rescue Emma."

"She can't." The words, a partial echo of the cleric's own, fell from Belle's lips even as a few pieces of what was turning out to be a very complicated puzzle dropped into place. "Magnus used her somehow…. Rumple said the magic here was strange. You can't use your magic, can you?"

Regina's expression darkened, but she didn't deny it. Instead she simply positioned herself a little better in front of Roland.

Blue eyes flickered back to the cleric that seemed to be assessing the best avenue to take as Snow gaped and Regina glared. Interesting. He was calculating, but in those calculations was a patient manner, as if he were trying to take the path of least destruction. It wasn't at all what Belle would have expected from her limited and removed experience with the clerics, and perhaps that gave them the in that they needed.

"What do you hope to achieve in all of this?"

His clear eyes snapped back to her and she held his gaze without flinching. He tilted his chin up a bit. "To rid our world of darkness."

"And you do that by becoming darkness itself?"

He pushed a short breath out through his nose and she wondered if it was a thought he struggled with often. "I know of you, Lady Belle. Your kindness and your selflessness was a story that reached farther than you might have ever known. With that, did you find him kind when he whisked you away as payment for your people's lives?"

"That's not -"

"It is," he answered. "Innocent souls suffer under the Dark One. He manipulates and he warps events around him to his own benefit. He takes and he takes and he takes until there's nothing left in his wake but empty darkness. That is the curse, and it is our duty to rid the worlds of that foul curse."

"And yet you came to the Land Without Magic where it could be suppressed without killing the man it inhabits and you brought magic here. Your master did that. Not Rumple."

In the back of her mind she knew all eyes were on them, but thankfully the crowd of opinions remained silent as the two squared off in a battle of wills and words rather than any magic or steel.

"He'd have brought it himself."

"He came here to find his son, who wanted nothing more than his father without the curse."

"And he would have been content in that?"

A soft breath left her as she thought on in for a moment, her gaze dipping before rising to meet his again. "We can't know now, because you never even gave him the chance."

"He's fooled you, m'lady. Whatever man the demon hides behind is not really there. It's a skin he wears, nothing more. His love for his son or for you… it's not there. It's a manipulation. It's the same with every host the Dark One's curse takes. None can love under it."

The words struck a chord and Belle's gaze sharpened a bit on him. "Rumple's not the first Dark One you've fought?"

"Hardly. I saw the one before him and the three before that, but Magnus… He's seen them all."

"That's hundreds of years."

"Yes. I suppose it is."

"And what does a mortal man give up to see so many centuries?"

His clear blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the question, but if he had an answer, Belle didn't hear it. Instead she felt the familiar tug that meant she was being dragged across miles of space in a fraction of an instant. When her eyes focused again, the shop was gone and she stood with Snow, David, Regina, and Roland in the cabin. Rumple was there, no worse for the wear, though Bae certainly was. His shirt was stained dark with blood, even though he appeared to be steady on his feet, and Emma stood at his side. She watched as little Roland raced forward, calling out to his papa as he flung himself into the familiar figure of Robin Hood's arms and Snow launched herself at a very shaken looking Emma.

"You're okay!" the queen managed, flinging her arms around the young blonde who stood frozen, her own arms bowed as if she wanted to return the embrace, but wasn't quite sure how.

"Yeah. We're okay. We're okay. You guys? Are you…?"

Snow released to press her palms against the girl's cheeks, a radiant smile only a mother could wear gracing her face. "Emma."

"Do you… remember me?"

"I do. I don't know how I could forget!"

Belle's gaze lingered for just a moment on the lone figures of David - who clearly wasn't sure what was happening and standing alone - and Regina who Belle wouldn't have wagered would look quite as abandoned by the little boy that had rushed to meet his father. Unlike her step-son-in-law, she didn't have to wait. Robin looked up from where he'd taken a knee to embrace his child to look at the woman who had put herself between Roland and danger just a few minutes before.

"That's Gina," Roland explained. "She saved me."

The Evil Queen gave a painfully awkward smile. "I just got him out of the mines."

Robin stood, Roland in his arms, and crossed over to her. Belle found herself watching the meeting unfold with a sense of something meaningful in the air. Rumple had always said that True Love was the strongest of magic, and she wondered….

Rumple.

Belle turned, finding her own True Love lingering back with his son, dark eyes fixed on her. She felt the corners of her lips tug upward and she threw herself forward in his arms. "You're alright," she breathed into the crook of his shoulder and she felt his arms encircle her.

"Of course, dear," he murmured into her hair, but she could feel the way he held onto her like an anchor steadying him against the waves. Funny, nothing the cleric said stuck with her in that moment. All that was was the reunion of the family she'd never expected to have. Rumple - the love of her life that she'd met through a deal he had struck - his son and his son's love. Emma's parents - both known and unknown - and even Regina, however she fit in here. For a long moment, it was just them, and they revelled in what they'd managed to protect. More was to come, but what good was life if they couldn't hold onto the moments of triumph like this?

----

Centuries upon centuries of study and practice had taught Magnus how to hone his magical skills. They were many, but he'd never gained the power of Foresight. It was a damaging blow the day Rumplestiltskin had added it to his own repertoire. It had put him at least three steps ahead of them on a good day, often further than that. Mangus was nothing if not adaptable though. He'd adjusted and he'd learned, soaking in the texts from all corners of their world and eventually learning the art himself, though admittedly at a much more limited scope than his opponent that had simply absorbed what his predecessor had bequeathed to him. It gave him something. A vision. A direction. He just had to give himself fully to search for it, even if it often only gave him moments in time a fraction of a second before they happened. At least it gave him a wide view, if not a distant one.

The town was under their command, though for how long remained to be seen. The twins were dead and the thief had been reunited with his son outside of their purview. Caiden survived, but he'd failed. They needed to move quickly if they wished to retain their advantage.

Magnus' sightless eyes cracked open from where he was knelt down in meditation in the back room of the convent that Reul Ghorm had claimed as her own in the curse. Caiden stood in the doorway, his entire demeanour saturated with questions and guilt. Interesting. He didn't even know that his delay had cost his brothers' their lives that day.

"The Dark One free, the thief without tether, the Evil Queen with her allies, and even the savior outside of our reach. What information could possibly be worthy of this interruption?"

Caiden hesitated at the door, and Magnus could feel his gaze linger on him long before he spoke. He waited - more stubbornly than patiently - until the younger man said: "You clearly Saw what happened."

"I did."

"Then did you See what happened in the shop?"

He hadn't, mostly because he thought he could trust Caiden to fulfil his commands. He always had before, but something had been eating at his protegee since he'd sent him back to their world after the thief. Caiden was determined, he knew. Dedicated to their cause. One or two Dark Ones prior to the current one - Magnus lost count in all of those years - had obliterated his village. Magnus had found him in the burning remnants. Young and angry and willing. It hadn't taken any convincing to join his cause. Only a promise: to right the wrongs. To protect the weak. Caiden had been his loyal companion from then out. Perhaps it had been three Dark Ones ago.

"I've never needed to look in on you for you to do what is required," Magnus answered and he could feel Caiden stiffen at that.

"I've served you for many years."

"You have."

"Our goals have always been aligned. Intricately so."

"I fail to hear the question."

"I was a mortal man before you found me. Young. A family. Everything stolen by the Dark One."

Magnus turned milky-white eyes towards him, waiting for the point that had interrupted their goal.

"How did it begin?"

"You know that. All dark curses were gathered into one and took over flesh."

"Yes, but how did you come by the power to… face it? To extend all of our lives?"

"Are you asking what was sacrificed for our goal?"

"Yes."

Magnus loosed a breath and shifted to stand. He turned and could feel Caiden steel himself as he moved towards him. With intention, he reached out to place a hand on either shoulder. "We have been called to this, and in that calling, we are given the years to pursue it."

"But why us?"

"Because we've sworn an oath to it."

"And who began it?"

Mangus paused, hearing the question behind the question that Caiden hadn't dared to ask in a half of a millenia. He gripped the younger man's shoulders a bit more tightly, holding him in place with the weight of his words. "Eradicating the Dark One's curse is the goal. There is nothing else."

He waited until Caiden soaked his words in, weighed them, and then nodded obediently. "Of course. Of that, there's never been any question."

His grip tightened and he felt the other man wince ever so slightly. "Then do it."

"It'll be done," his protegee swore, and left him to his meditation.

-----

People often spoke of the quiet before the storm by way of warning, but those that did were not accustomed to being the storm themselves. Raging winds and magic buzzing through the air like lightning, Regina had found a kinship with the angry skies when she rained down her retribution on those that deserved it most. Like the storm, she sent her enemies scurrying for shelter. Like the storm, she left utter devastation in her wake.

All storms eventually dissipated, though. She simply hadn't expected to still be there once it did, but there she was: powerless and forced to side with those she'd sworn to destroy, but they were a means to an end. Magicless though she was, what would it say if some useless cleric was able to sweep in and steal away her town, her magic, and the curse she'd bestowed on everyone? No. She needed her magic back. Once she had it, she'd rip that fool of a cleric's heart from his chest and crush it.

She just had to find her way back to it and quickly.

Rumplestiltskin had always been good for that when he wanted to be. He'd fought the clerics longer than Regina had been alive and had studied what he hadn't seen himself. It was, she told herself, the reason she'd taken a gamble on him when he'd laid dying. She needed him and he owed her. It was time to collect on the rare debt.

The Dark One was finishing up the wards around the perimeter after whisking the two dead clerics' bodies somewhere beyond it. If Mangus or his people approached, all they would find was the forest, looped back in on their path in much the same way as Regina and Roland had been in the mines.

"I hear -" her old mentor drawled out, the two syllables taking considerably longer than they needed to - "that you're in a bit of a bind."

"Protecting you cost me," Regina answered pointedly.

He paused where he was bent down to inspect one of the wards. His thin fingers danced across it, though they both knew it was an idle gesture. He was buying time. He was calculating. As he did.

"And you've come to collect."

"You always said nothing came without a price."

"Indeed," he murmured and stood slowly, his limbs straightening with a sluggishness that spoke of the weight of the day.

There was a long moment, and then another, and finally another as Regina pushed a frustrated breath out through her nose. "So can you fix it?"

"No."

The single word was a punch to the gut. "What do you mean 'no'? You owe me your life, you ungrateful imp!"

"Keep your voice down," he chided, his dark gaze sliding back towards the cabin where much of their ragtag group were sleeping just a handful of steps behind them. "I'm hardly ungrateful. I know what you did and this would be a terribly simple way to rid myself of a rather hefty debt… if it could be done."

The words sunk in slowly, the weight of them threatening to drag her down with them. "Then that's it? He stole everything from me?" she managed, her voice breaking as the words escaped.

That dark gaze she'd become accustomed to for the last handful of years there in Storybrooke shifted to look at her. "Not everything. You certainly have your wits about you, or you wouldn't have escaped him. You'll need those."

"For what?"

That impish smile quirked his lips ever so slightly. "Why, regaining what he took, of course."

That storm built up in her and she levelled a glare that would have made a lesser man tremble. "Stop with the games, Rumple. You said -"

His gaze snapped fully on her, and even though his eyes were dark rather than gold, it reminded her of the early days when he'd grow frustrated in her lessons. He knew the answer. Surely she did too. "I said I couldn't return your magic. Not any more than I could have given it to you if you'd had not an ounce of talent in your bones when I found you. All I can do is all I've ever done: teach you. And you know the lesson needed to unravel a spell put on you."

"Not like this."

He tilted his head as if he were studying her. "It doesn't matter the size of the spell or even the intricacy. The more threads woven together, the more time it takes, but it will unravel if you pull the correct thread."

And with that he turned, leaving her standing at the edge of the perimeter, the rest of their party asleep or on his way in to rest, and she loosed a frustrated breath. Well, she hadn't gotten this far just to lose to a cleric of all things. He wanted her to find the right thread? She'd find it, and Magnus wouldn't know what hit him.

----