A/N: This is a request from Promise777. The ideas are brilliant, but this is just the intro. This marks my 50th story on this website. Enjoy!

My Only Request

Chapter One: The Real Return

Time stops, aging futile; memories run bland, dry, and cracked like they seemed to never have existed. After Emma came to town, everything changed. Storybrooke, as if a beast in itself, began to awaken: people began to realize that events were actually taking place, that they had lives, and that their entire past life was stripped from them out of greed and selfishness belonging to the woman who declared herself the mayor of the town.

Now, she is in hiding. Her magic returned to her, but still, she was no match for her counterpart. No, that man was far too strong, far too motivated, and his eyes showed her nothing but an emptiness and zero empathy for her anymore. No one listened, and all because of that girl they call Emma.

Regina hid far in the woods, though she couldn't bring herself to leave Storybrooke, fearing that somehow, they were all still trapped here. Of course, that was not the worst part of it for her along this line. On a brighter note, no one had hunted her down, Mr. Gold didn't even bother to help anyone but himself, and now the two had their magic back.

The magic...it was never anything anyone wanted back, no matter how much they thought they did. Snow and her Prince Charming could live without it, for their lives, though proven simple, granted happiness. Remembering was the icing on the cake for them, causing all the pain and suffering to go away. But oh no no no, that was too perfect you see. There was no way in the living Hell that Mr. Gold would waste his own precious plan to return magic to Storybrooke as a safety precaution for "a rainy day" as he liked to put it.

Belle, the love of his life he thought was a lost cause, hopeless to save, was still alive. With her memories came consequences, as did everyone else's. Hers, though, they were special to him, for it was he who drove her away because he loved her. He chose the power for the second time over the people in his life. The first was his son...

His son...Baelfire, his only broken deal turned out to be the one that haunted him forever. The curse was supposed to bring him back, Rumpelstiltskin was supposed to find his son. That had been his main purpose for his dark creation, helping the queen was a side business.

The boy, trapped in another realm, perhaps grown up or perhaps not, Rumpelstiltskin knew not what had become of him. With each passing day, he'd walk out into the woods, no matter how his leg had treated him and look for his only son. When he found Belle, or rather, when Belle found him, Mr. Gold knew that he would have to keep her closer than he had ever before. Convincing himself to never let her go again but still keep focused on the task at hand since the beginning was a difficult task for him to carry out.

Still, he managed, looking hopelessly even after magic had returned to Storybrooke from the true love potion he'd made Emma snag for him. Belle was to reside at his home, for he promised to protect her always, never letting any more harm come upon her, and now that he had his power, that wasn't too much to ask. Keeping the dagger with him at all times, Rumpelstiltskin took Belle into the forest every morning. To her, it was walk. To him, he was searching forever.

As the magic came, so did the gold dust on his skin. Slowly, he was morphing back into who he was before the curse: a beast, however his magic could also alter appearances. So, he kept the tone of the gold dust at bay, let his hair curl back again, but he knew for a fact he would never allow for his fingernails to be as long as they were in the past. He decided to keep them as they were a few months after he gained his power.

This new magic, exposed to the town, created almost no change expect in the very atmosphere of the town. The roots of the town were not in magic, but the people were, and that concept began to show within weeks. Belle was the only one who seemed to him difficulty remembering everything clearly, for although she was able to recall his name, their love, the dark castle, and Gaston, she seemed to have a certain trouble piecing the puzzle of the Evil Queen together. The poor girl couldn't even think of the reason Regina wanted her locked up...well, besides to use against Mr. Gold when she got desperate.


Today though, Emma's arrival would be outmatched, overpowered by someone else. She may have broken the curse, but the people were all the same for the most part. This arrival, with him in town, there was no telling what could happen now. There was something about the little town, a little place that he thought sounded familiar to him.

As the lad drove down the road on a blue moped, he remembered everything. He'd always known everything from his past, and that was why he was coming back. When the sign of welcome came into view, the boy stopped...for along with this town, despite his disappearance, his roots were in magic. Therefore, his aging had ceased until now, and he could feel it every step of the way. The essence of the magic...

Taking a deep breath, the boy brushed back his dark brown hair, the same hairstyle he'd had since he left this place behind. Now, eccentrically, Storybrooke seemed completely foreign to him, yet he knew he was in the right place. Sighing, the boy lifted up the hood on his dirt brown cloak to hide his face for now. Equipped with a few bags on his back and strapped down, he revved up the moped again.

"I'll find you, Papa. I always have," he whispered to himself.

"Hey! Hey kid!" a voice sliced through the air. The boy turned to see a woman dressed in business-like clothing, ratted and covered with filth. "Where are you going?"

"I'm coming into town," he replied. "Now if you'll excuse me I must be going..."

"What's your name?" the woman asked, wiping some blood from the side of her mouth. The boy wouldn't answer her, sensing there was something very wrong about her. Just the way she carried herself made him uneasy. Perhaps it was that stone coal black hair.

Bae drove past the boarder without another word. He'd come to Storybrooke. He'd come home.