Gold had taken to stalking the forest nightly, taking walks to and from the cabin mostly. He didn't try to hide himself, he knew the best way to disappear was to just go about your business as if you were supposed to be doing whatever it was you were doing. As such, each night he would lock up the antique shop and head out toward the cabin at the edge of town. He would always stop, however, and look into the well atop the hill overlooking the bay. He might spend an hour just gazing down into the abyss, shadow consumed any hint that the well might not have suddenly run dry. He had moments where he worried that it might have, considering how magic things react to this place. After his silent contemplation of his own failures, he'd spend another hour reminding himself why he'd not bothered using the well's power to end his own curse sooner. "Let her remain where she is." He's mutter to herself. "Better that she passed from her torture there. I've been cruel enough to her without wishing Her Majesty's curse on her for my own sake."
This particular night, however, he found himself anxious to return to his home. His vigil at the well was cut short, as was his nightly visit to the abandoned mine to check on the beast trapped within. He didn't bother returning to the cabin, but walked straight home. He was unable to shake the feeling that if he didn't get there quickly, something terrible would happen. Considering the assault and battery charges pressed against him for what he did to Mr. French – who deserved much more than he got as far as Gold was concerned – he had every right to worry. If Miss Swan kept on doing her job so well... He preferred not to think about it.
Gold walked just into view of his shop and stopped dead. Someone was leaning against the door, looking in. The figure then turned around and just...sat. Riffraff were not tolerated on his property, and he was in too much of a hurry to be genial about it. Still, remembering how little he enjoyed being in that cell, he kept as calm as he could. Covering half the distance toward the figure, a faulty street lamp kicked on, illuminating part of the figured face. He stopped to take a look at the...girl. It was definitely a woman. With dark hair, pale skin, and a jaw that reminded him very much of..."No..." He was drawn forward, not wanting to prove himself wrong but unable to turn and leave. He saw the rest of her face when he was within a dozen or so paces of her. A few more steps saw him still as a statue looking down at a woman he thought dead for so long. The sight rendered him speechless
Luckily for him she spoke first, hearing his thick soled shoes slap and shuffle against the pavement. "I...um...they said to find Mr, Gold's shop..." He didn't move, or even blink. Her stammering only got worse from there. "And...and um...tell him that... um...Regina?..yeah, Regina locked me up.." She looked up at him now, just wanting someone to tell her she was alright. She'd been in that mental ward for so long... "They...they said Mr. Gold would protect me..." She saw, now, the tears on his face. He'd heard little of what she'd said to him. He reached a hand down and pulled her up to her feet, then was again at a loss. "Are you him?...Are...are you alright?" He shook his head and hugged her tightly. She jumped in shock but didn't back away. "...Do I know you?"
He leaned back a bit and smiled to her. "No...but you will..." She seemed very confused, and as her words finally sank in for him he laughed. A real laugh for the first time in many many years. "Yes, I am Mr. Gold. Yes, I will protect you...Come with me, Dearie." He tugged her along, close at his side, and asked her softly. "Now, what's this about Regina?" There was the slightest hint of a smirk at one corner of his mouth, and somehow a sneer at the other.