Archive of Our Own ^beta

He heard her name, just her name and his whole lonely little world came crashing about his feet. Emma's name was guaranteed to restore his true memory, though at the time as the magical prison held him captive, he never imagined how incredible and painful the moment would be when his former life and new life collided.

The curse he created worked better than he ever perceived. He created it specifically to find his son. Having to take every single living being with him and wait 28 years for the return of his true self was only a minor hiccup in the long run. The curse was supposed to bring him to the world without magic to find his boy, but it did more than just that – it brought Baelfire to him.

Gold stride along the sidewalk, cane purposefully tapping on the concrete. His eyes were forward, focused on his goal, the only goal he lived for. He arrived at Game of Thorns blocking the glass door, heart pounding so hard it could have burst right out of his chest. He grabbed for the knob, in-taking a calming breath, though barely it did anything to settle his nerves.

It was the sight of her that made every muscle in his body forgot how to work. He'd thought her dead, a tragic death filled with torture and no return. He'd found her grave, only her first name engraved on the tiny stone in a lonesome cemetery on the outskirts of her father's land. It was a treacherous lie concocted by a queen whose heart was twisted and black. He knew now of the falsity, the recalling of his fake memories as his former self came to be.

Her standing before his eyes, alive and functioning was nearly enough to bring him to his knees. Some aspects of the curse didn't make sense, even to him and he wondered if it was Regina's part in the whole mess that caused all of this to happen. But in the here and now, he didn't care because she was alive and tangible, and he longed to touch her to be sure she wasn't a dream.

"Mr. Gold" her voice rang in his cloudy mind, snapping him back into the waking moment. "How may I help you?"

In this land without magic, she was Mabel French, but to him, she was his brave Belle.

"Good day, Ms. French,” he replied, smooth as a river stone, though his insides were trembling. He couldn't take his eyes off her, yearning and desperation hidden behind an intense gaze.

Belle stared at him, suspicion on her pretty features. "This isn't about the rent, is it?" She crossed her arms over her chest. “Because we have paid on time for months now.”

Gold flinched inward. Of course, she'd automatically assume he'd stop by for that. That was the only reason he ever visited Moe French's quaint little flower shop. He gritted his teeth. "No, none of that. This is about your son." And it sounded wonderfully painful in his throat. Baelfire was his son, and he ached to pull him close and fiercely never let go. But out of every person in this whole forsaken town, Bae was with his beloved, being raised in love and reared in kindness by the only woman who ever captured his heart.

Belle scowled. "Was Neal apart of the kids that toilet papered your yard the night before last?" she asked, planting hands upon her hips in the usual mom-fashion that struck Gold with a new spark of admiration for her.

He stared at her for a beat, bemused by the name she’d just used for Bae, until the momentary confusion was over. In the sudden return and sorting of his true memories, he’d completely forgotten his anger over the group of kids that decorated his yard with white streamers of toilet paper. He found it difficult to believe Bae was involved in such a prank, but he quickly reminded himself that this world was not like the other.

Gold licked his lips. His jumbled mind was still clearing cobwebs. “Yes, he was.” He bared his teeth, wearing the mask of his menacing counterpart. He honestly had no idea if one of the kids that bolted from his property was Bae or not, but Belle seemed to have her suspensions and he would use it to his advantage.

Belle blew out a frustrated breath through her nose. She shook her head, disappointed. “I knew it. I am so sorry, Mr. Gold. He will be punished, and I will make sure Neal doesn’t ever pull a prank like that again.”

“I have a proposition for the punishment.”

Belle gawked at him. He couldn’t tell if his statement frightened her or surprised her or maybe both. This was his opportunity to get close to his son, and he would hold onto it with a death grip.

“Your boy come to work for me,” he offered, “at my shop. It will be the price he pays for this juvenile prank.”

Her mouth fell open and eyes narrowed as Belle maneuvered around the counter to stand before him. "Is that all? There’s no catch within the fine print, is there?”

Gold glanced to the side, tapping his cane once. He had to appear to be his grandeur self, even still. "I'm in need of a strong back and young knees, Ms. French. Winters in Storybrooke are seeping into my bones a little harder each year. Your boy, I think, will be more than capable to do the work.”

She eyed him, searching for any deceit or hidden agendas. Gold didn’t fear her discovering his real reason for suggesting Bae come work for him. He felt secure in his secret.

“Have you contacted any of the other parents of the children involved in the incident?” she asked.

He narrowed his eyes toward her. “Your boy was the only one I identified.”

Belle looked conflicted for a moment. Then, she nodded. “I’m okay with this-” a defensive shield was about her, “as long as you treat my son fairly.”

“I wouldn’t dream of treating him any other way, Ms. French.” Gold's mind screamed with the urge to reassure her over and over again that he'd never hurt her or his son again. If only she knew the lengths he’d taken just to see Bae again.

The glass door clanged open. Gold wanted to curse whoever walked in to disturb them, but then his insides froze.

There he was, entering the shop, backpack hanging off one shoulder. Baelfire was taller, eye to eye with his father now. Lanky but strong in size. Gold felt his breath catch, his face nearly betraying him as he gazed at the boy. Hs beautiful boy. It took every fiber of his being to not cross the small space and drag him into an eternal embrace. Hundreds of years and painstaking work was worth this moment just to see Baelfire again.

Bae looked at him, owl-eyed, and his mouth hung open at the sight of the most dreaded man in town. He quickly drew near to Belle’s side, standing to full height like he was her bodyguard trying to ward off a threat. Gold admired his son’s need to protect.

“Mama, is everything okay?” Bae asked, not taking his eyes off Gold.

Belle spun around to face Bae. “No, it is not. You were part of that group that TPed Mr. Gold’s yard.”

Bae’s stiff, protective stance fell away as his shoulders drooped and his eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Did he tell you that?” his voice was filled with contempt.

“Don’t turn this all on Mr. Gold.” Belle crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed. “I already had suspicions that’s where you and your friends were that evening, and judging by how your acting right now,” she gestured up and down at him to prove her point, “I have no doubt that you were involved.”

“It was a stupid prank, Mom,” What Bae muttered next squeezed Gold’s heart. “It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.”

“You are not helping the situation, Nea!” Belle fumed with all the fury of a mother putting her child back in place. “You will be respectful towards Mr. Gold, and you will apologize to him.”

Gold wished to intervene. He wished he could defuse the situation. All he longed for was to draw them both into an embrace. It was more than obvious that the curse’s version of Bae disliked him. It was rightly earned, Gold knew.

Bae heaved an overly exaggerated sigh. Belle coaxed him with a nod and a certain look in her eye. “Sorry, Mr. Gold,” he gritted out.

“See? It wasn’t that hard,” Belle pointed out. “You will work at Mr. Gold’s shop on weekends until I see fit you have fulfilled your punishment for this,” she crooked her fingers to make quotation marks, “stupid prank.”

“What!?” Bae jumped in defense. “But Mama, you can’t!”

Gold took a step forward, extending a hand towards Bae. It took all his might to not rest a hand on Bae’s shoulder. “Don’t talk back to your mother.”

Belle gazed at him, owl-eyed, as if stunned that he would come to her defense. The only interaction she’d ever had with him was about money. There really wasn’t any reason for them to interact aside from tenant/landlord relationship.

Bae turned burning eyes on him. Gold could tell Bae was mulling it over the situation in his head. An unbearable tension hung on Gold’s shoulders.

"I’ll take the punishment under one condition,” the boy said, and immediately Belle grabbed his shoulder in silent reproach.

"Name it."

Bae shrugged Belle’s hand from his shoulder as he straightened and stared point blank into Gold's eyes looking so grown up. "You never intimidate or threaten my mom or my grandpa about money again."

"Neal!" exclaimed Belle, clearly aghast at the boy’s forwardness. He wasn't moved and neither was Gold.

"Deal?" Bae stuck out his hand, and Gold was suddenly in a cottage eating supper with his son at the dinner table.

He caught Bae's hand, shaking it, though his own hand felt as if it would shake to pieces at the touch. "Deal."

***

Anxious stirrings coursed through Gold as he waited for Baelfire to show Saturday morning. Two days he fitfully waited for Bae's first day of work at the pawnshop. Two days he resisted temptation to skulk around the floral shop to catch a glimpse of his boy, but he didn’t want things to get weird. He had to play his hand right or he'd lose any privilege he had to even come one hundred feet near his son.

Besides, there was more at stake than just Bae. The curse could have placed his son in the care of anyone from the Enchanted Forest, but the curse chose to place him with Belle. Gold could not have planned it any better, unless he could have had Bae in his own care from the start. Gold had to exude patience just as he had for 300 years. Knowing that his son was safe and taken care of would sustain him for now.

He was waiting in front of the glass counter, peering diligently through all the baubles that lined the shop's window. He jumped to attention when Bae materialized outside the glass. The boy pushed open the door briskly and paused when he caught sight of Gold standing stiffly in the middle of the room.

Bae's lips were curved downwards as he stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets, looking like the poster child of a moody teenager. "Where do you want me to start, Mr. Gold?" Bae asked, not leaving any room for pleasantries.

Gold shook off the desperate need to hold his son, to hear Bae call him by Papa and not his Storybrooke name. He knew it would take a while to fight back his emotions, but until then he'd restrain that part of himself. He shifted to turn, getting better footing on his good leg, and pointed with his cane to all the objects lining the top shelf on the right side of the shop. "I want every item on that shelf dusted and polished. Cleaning supplies are on the counter, here.”

Bae made a face but complied. He retrieved the caddy full of cleaning supplies off the counter. He checked out the caddy then let out a casual ‘huh’. "This is like the one Grandpa uses when gardening."

It took Gold several seconds, but it finally registered who Bae was speaking of. Belle's father, Sir Maurice, Lord of the Marchlands, but in this world, he was Moe French, a lowly floral shop owner. This situation was truly going to take time to get used to. Gold wondered for a hundredth time how long he'd have to wait for Miss Unbelieving Emma Swan to break the curse.

"Yes, I thought it might come in handy" he replied, and felt as if his heart would wrench at having to use such casual conversation with the person he yearned to ask for long overdue forgiveness.

Bae hadn’t tried to start any conversations with Gold as he worked. He was focused on his tasks. Gold was impressed, but not surprised, at how hard of a worker Bae was, even though he made it clear by his mood that he didn’t want to be there.

"This is a lotta stuff," Bae remarked about halfway down the shelf, his first words since he started cleaning. He wiped his brow that was glistening with a line of sweat, pushing his unruly bangs off his forehead.

Gold sat behind the counter on a rather uncomfortable wooden stool, choosing to riffle through paperwork there instead of in his office. This was the only way for him to currently spend time with his boy and Gold would take any opportunity that crossed his path. "Take a break, Neal,” he said, hesitating as Bae’s cursed name crossed his lips. “There's a refrigerator in my office with soda." He wouldn't mention the fact he had visited the appliance store the day before to buy a small fridge just to stock drinks for the boy.

Bae seemed impressed by the offer and disappeared in the back. He emerged momentarily gulping down a root beer from a glass bottle. He sighed, grinning slyly, looking far more cheerful than the sour mood that he had display ever since Gold visited the floral shop to call him out on his extracurricular activity.

"Mama doesn't allow sodas in the house. The only time I get one is if we go out to eat at Granny’s.”

"It'll be our secret" Gold replied, mirroring the boy's grin as he felt more at ease. He knew his son well in the old world, but what qualities the boy gained or lost from the curse was still unknown to him and he felt the need to keep reminding himself of that.

Gold wanted more than anything to keep conversation going. He pushed up off the stool and stepped around the counter to lean on the edge. “Why did you feel the need to decorate my yard with toilet paper?” Gold asked the question that had been on his mind. He dreaded the response Bae would give him. He already knew it would be in the negative, but he had to settle any bad blood that was between them.

Bae sat awkwardly slumped over as he used the ladder for a makeshift seat. He loudly swallowed a gulp of his drink then snickered to himself. “Nobody likes you, Mr. Gold.”

Gold’s mouth hung open slightly, taken aback by the blunt answer. The ugly truth always hurt no matter how thick your skin was.

“All the grown-ups I know are scared of you.”

“But you’re not?”

Bae looked straight into Gold’s face. “You don’t scare me.”

“And this non-existent fear inspired you to deface my property?”

“I guess, and we were just bored.” Bae shrugged. “It’s not the first time I TPed someone’s property.”

Gold bristled at the casual admission. His boy was never a troublemaker in their old world, but this cursed version touted a mischievous streak. “Who fell victim to your decorating skills?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even. He needed Bae to trust him, not draw further away than he already was.

“Dr. Whale.”

Gold looked curiously at the boy. "And, why Dr. Whale?"

Bae sighed in exasperation. He leaned forward as if devolving a secret. "My mom went out on a date with him a couple months ago. The whole night Whale was – as Mama said – too handsy." The last word sounded as if a question mark should have ended with it. "She actually had to slap him on the face at the end of the date to make him stop."

Gold imagined Belle in a car with Whale getting frisky and her beating the snot out of him with her tiny but deadly fist. An unexpected wave of anger hit him at the thought of Whale giving unwanted attention to his true love.

“So, we TPed his house,” Bae continued, and he made it sound like the most natural thing in the world. His eyes suddenly glared at Gold as if to intimate him. "Anyone who messes with my mom has to deal with me.”

“Is that why you made that deal with me, Neal? To protect your mother?”

“She’s my mom,” Bae replied, matter-of-factly. “I need to watch out for her.” He took a swig of his drink then sized up Gold, the gears plain to see behind his eyes. “You walk around with your wolf grin and your cane tapping the ground, making people feel like they’re peasants. But you’re just a lonely old man,” Bae gestured around him, “with nothing but stuff to keep him company.”

Gold felt like the floor had caved in under him. Bae wasn’t taking any prisoners. He was going in for the execution and Gold’s heart was taking the death blow. He’d never revealed weakness to anyone in this forsaken town, never revealed any secrets that could be used against him. He couldn’t hide behind that ironclad wall anymore, not from his own son.

“You’re right, Neal. I am a lonely old man. Maybe you working here is as much your punishment as it is my needing of company.”

Bae leaned back on his perch on the ladder. His eyes were wide, surprised, and he was speechless as he stared at Gold. The boy hadn’t expected a confession, or this fracture and jagged heart to heart. Gold realized he may have found a way to catch the boy’s attention – by telling him the truth.

“How ‘bout you call it a day?” Gold suggested. “Come back 8 am tomorrow to finish up this side of the shop?”

“Yeah.” Bae hopped off the ladder, an eagerness about him. He gulped down one more swig of his soda then shoved it into the caddy that sat on the floor. “I’ll be here,” he said before bolting out the door.