AN: Bear with me. I'm taking creative license here-yadda yadda yadda, I know it would've been like 1984 when Emma came through, and that the curse was implemented hundreds of years after Bae escaped but. this is my head canon. so do what you will with it.
Disclaimer: NOT MINE :)
In his dreams, he is falling-always falling, always screaming, always with his arms outstretched. He is furious, and so hurt and yet at the same time, all he wants is his father-
"Young man?" He is being shaken, suddenly aware of heat, and fresh air and grass. It is tickling his cheek, irritating his nose so he feels like he may need to sneeze but then he is super disoriented and his mind is spinning. He blinks, his eyes fighting to focus in the sunlight, and he smells dirt and dry air. "Young man! Are you alright?"
He pushes himself up on his elbow at his side, blinking rapidly as he backs away from the elderly lady that is shaking him. He is in a patch of grass that is about as large as their cottage was, but as he looks around he is terrified by his surroundings.
There is some sort of black rock in front of him, paved flat and on them, harsh, mechanical looking carriages that travel faster than anything he's ever seen. The old lady is leering over him, her white hair curly atop her head, thick glasses sitting low on her nose that hung from a chain around his head. "Boy, are you alright?"
He doesn't know where he is. The houses are strange looking, and there are hardly any trees around and he is alone and he is scared, although he is almost a man and can never admit it. His eyes dart around, wild in their sockets and he is pushing himself further away from the old woman. She will tell the police later that he appeared on her lawn, out of nowhere, dressed in a cloak and in ripped clothes, looking like a lost boy or something from a fairy tale. Lost boy, is what he hears himself teased as behind his back, the Lost Boy who will not speak, just presses himself against the wall as if he wants to disappear into them.
He was supposed to have his father. He wasn't supposed to be alone here.
They give him the name Peter, and he thinks it must have something to do with the moniker they have assigned to him along the way, what with how they smile at him when they assign it to him. He begins to speak after a few days, understanding that this is a different world, a place without magic. It is a place called America, and the region he lives in is called Arizona. There is a lot of desert, and it is dry and arid, with hardly any forest. He begins to go to school, eventually, which he finds strange and uncomfortable. He is drastically behind, leading his caretakers at the home he is placed in to believe he was raised in an isolated environment with very little guidance-their words, not his own. But as a new boy with no past and no friends, he resigns himself to study often and by the time he reaches the coming of age in this world, he has earned himself a slip of paper that says he is qualified to be on his own and earn his own money.
It was odd, to begin with. The carriages, called automobiles or cars, terrified him at first; getting him to the police station from the old woman's home was impossible, as he kicked and fought against the officers who had come to collect him. He tells them he is four and ten, at which they laugh but understand. He finds it difficult to make friends, the wild boy who is not used to the video games and the other strange gadgets they play with. When he turns 18, he finds a job at a local tavern called a bar and waits tables for tips. He manages to make a few friends, but mostly keeps to himself. He never tells anyone of his past, just that his father had a very tight hold on him for most of his life, but now it is only him. He knows they make up crazy rumors-that he killed him, that he ran away-but none of the rumors could be as crazy as the truth.
There's a girl that he works with that takes pity on him. She is a year or two older, with red hair and bright green eyes and he falls too hard for her too quickly. He still has nightmares, still dreams of falling through green light, screaming, reaching with arms outstretched, falling forever, but it is nice to have someone there to wake up next to. Her name is Erin, and she becomes his best friend, someone to talk to, but there is always something missing; she does not understand what it is like to be lost, and although she sympathizes with him, it's never quite right, and so they avoid the subject of his past. She comes from a close family, not terribly well off but with enough to get by and he knows she aspires to more than she has now. He doesn't consider what he wants though; he thinks as long as he has her, he'll be fine.
He is married to her for a few years before it begins to get cumbersome. He works for the city now as a fireman, something that will help pull in more money than waiting tables would without needing a college education. She begins to yearn for more-she wants children, and a home in the suburbs, and while normal is what he has always yearned for, he is not of this world. He does not want to be a father, as he believes he will only fail at it as his father has done to him and he could not bear bringing that upon someone else. There is something that pulls within him that begins to distance him from his wife, and begins spending more time away from their small, 2 bedroom apartment than he does in it.
And then he meets her. He is 24 when a girl rolls into town, spitfire and vinegar, a spirit he has never experienced before. She is young; barely out of school and freshly emancipated when he comes across her at the diner he frequents, a new waitress for a few months as she stops her for a bit, a vagabond of sorts by her own admission whose hunger for life and the world around her awakens something inside of him he did not know was dormant. She serves him his coffee and apple pie in the wee hours of the morning, after and before his shifts at the firehouse end, and he becomes quite the regular, so she begins to get to know him. At first, it's small talk-how was your night, crazy weather they've been having. But it evolves from there. When he finds out she, too, is an orphan, someone with a lost past, the connection is almost instantaneous and electric.
He starts meeting her at her small apartment that she shares with too many roommates-not the greatest people in the world either, but they help her get by. He goes after or before his shifts, sometimes early enough that they lay together after in each others arms and dream of what their lives could be like, laughing about the hard times they've had throughout. He is bitter, and angry, and realizes he has been for a long time, but this girl alleviates much of that and makes him feel...better. She is someone to commiserate with, and he feels less alone every time he falls asleep with her next to him. He never mentions his wife, so when she finds his wedding band one morning as he climbs out of her shower, she unloads on him and tells him to leave and never come back. He obliges; this was never going to end well anyway. He hears from the girls at the diner that she up and left pretty quickly after that without so much of a goodbye, but that doesn't surprise him; Emma acknowledged herself that attachments weren't really her thing.
In the end, it doesn't much matter. He and Erin end up divorced within a few years, as he is reluctant to have any children or put down serious roots. He stops working for the city and gets a job driving big rigs throughout the country, Emma Swan leaving that desire to travel around behind when she left. He, like her, feels like there is nowhere in this world he truly belongs, and sometimes wonders why Emma felt like the closest thing to home in all the years since he'd left. When he's 35, he receives a call that will change the course of his life and he get's his answer.
"Pete? Peter Foster?" The voice is soft and nervous, and it sounds like something of an echo, of a memory long past. He frowns and shifts his position, resting his weight on one leg.
"This is he."
"Hey, Pete." The voice sighs hard. "This is...well, this is gonna sound nuts, but...this is Emma Swan. D'ya, um...Do you remember me?"
He leans against the brick wall behind him, cell phone pressed to his ear at the truck stop he is at with a soft chuckle. Of course he remembers her. He nods and tells her he does, asks her how she is doing, exchanges other pleasantries before she finally gets around to the purpose of the call.
"Well, I kind of have a kid. And by I, I mean...we. We kind of have a kid, together. And I kinda need your help in getting him back."
He arrives in the small town in Maine and asks for a room at the small bed and breakfast. The lady who takes his name, Granny, he assumes from the nameplate outside, seems far away and distracted; in fact, everyone in the town does, as if they are lost in their own minds, trying desperately to figure something out that he can't see. He doesn't dwell on it long though. The two day trip has tempered his anger a bit at Emma from keeping something so major from him, but he is sure once he sees her again, that will change.
When meets her at the diner that night, there's already two empty cups of coffee next to her and it looks like she's drinking a giant mug of hot chocolate by the mound of whipped cream atop of it. His heart begins to race, and he feels his cheeks grow warm and he has to consciously tell himself not to make a scene, not to yell. He slips in across from her; she's still absolutely gorgeous, even more so than before. But she looks fucking terrified, and he wonders if that has everything to do with their situation or something else going on in this bizarre little town.
She looks up at him with tears in her eyes. "I really thought I was doing the best thing for him." She says in a quiet voice. "Please, please believe me."
"And was it?"
She looks away from him, up toward the ceiling and his heart constricts a bit as she wipes a tear that falls. Goddammit. He's always been a soft person; even back as a child, even trusting his father never taught him much. He's more bitter now, but he believes her, the fact that she called him here makes him believe her. He reaches out and takes her hand. Obviously, she thinks he would be better off now. But you can't just take a child back because your life is together now more than it was a decade before, and he tells her this. The sorrow flees from her face, and what replaces it can only be considered motherly protective instinct.
"That's not it." She snaps. "He came to me. He hates her. And he should, she's fucking crazy, Pete." She shakes her head. "I mean, I don't have any evidence, but I swear, she has done horrible things..." She breathes out, shaking her head. "Things not even I can believe, to be honest..."
She mutters the last part, and he knows she's talking more to herself than him. But he ignores it. Right now, he's worried about the boy; his boy. The sudden reality of it takes hold of it, now that he's here in this quaint little town and his grip tightens on hers, pulling her back to him. Oh Gods, what if he can't do this...what if this is a giant mistake? What if he comes into this boys life and he ruins it? Sets up all these expectations, promises he cannot...will not, fulfill?
Emma squeezes his hand back and he looks at her to see a mix of amusement and empathy on her face. "I know how you feel."
"No, you don't. Even if he found you, at least you knew about him." He snaps, and the guilty look takes her back once more. He pauses for a few moments, breathing in and out until he's found his rational footing once more. "What's his name?"
A smile lights up her face, and he can't help but share it; she loves him, that much is evident. She pulls out her cell phone and clicks a few buttons on the screen before handing it to him. "Henry. His name is Henry."
Bae laughs in spite of himself; he wants to remain neutral, make rational, logical, reasonable decisions, but he's got to admit...his kid is cute. He has Emma's eyes but his own brown mop of hair and smile. Henry. It's a good name.
"I do kind of want to keep your presence on the down low if that's possible." She warns. "You really don't understand what Regina is capable of. And I honestly don't want to know what she'd do if she knew you were here."
"I want to meet him."
"I know." She nods. "And you can. He'll be around here tomorrow, although Regina's been keeping him on a short leash as of late. I would appreciate it though if we could hold off on tell him who you are. I may have...I kind of told him you were dead."
The anger is back. This time, Bae sets the phone down and rises from the booth, throwing a few bills on the table. "Well, I suppose I will see you tomorrow morning then, if that's best. You know how to get a hold of me."
"Pete, wait-"
He doesn't hear the rest of what she says. He hears the ring of the diner as the door opens, the distinct tap of a cane hitting the linoleum. He turns to head out and looks up to see the face of the man who just entered.
A roaring sound fills his mind, as if wind is rushing past his ears.
BAE!
And suddenly he is alone in the dark, like in his dreams, and he is falling.
"Do you feel better today Mister..." The girl in the predominantly red outfit is wiping down the counter as he sits down. He flushes with embarrassment at the scene he made the night before.
"Foster. Call me Pete." He says. She flinches at the name, although even she seems unsure as to why, but smiles all the same and tells him it's good to hear. He glances back to the booth he was at the night before, and brings a hand to his head where a smiley face band aid covers a swollen cut. He smiles. "Must've stood up too fast, is all."
She smiles again. "That does happen. I'm happy it didn't turn you off to us."
She's not flirting, merely being cordial, and he smiles and nods, ordering a cup of coffee as he waits. If there is one thing in his 20 years in this realm he's come to appreciate, it's the food. Long nights driving a big rig have made him addicted to the black drink, and he has at least two or three cups when he phone dings to alert him that Emma and Henry are walking up to the diner. He is shivers, and cannot tell if it's the rapid succession of drinks or nerves.
He walks outside after paying, wanting the introduction to his son to be private. He meets them at the corner and spies Emma first, Henry eagerly chatting beside her about something she doesn't seem to be paying full attention to. As they get closer and she meets his eyes, her own fill with tears. He sees her blinking rapidly, willing Henry not to see them, not to question her. He smiles down at the boy who regards him carefully, looking between Emma and this strange new man he does not know.
"Henry, this is Peter Foster." She begins softly. "He's...an old friend of mine, from when I was younger. He's in town for a visit."
This seems good enough for Henry, although the boy seems to shoot her an impatient glance as he sticks out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Foster."
"Please, call me Peter." He says with a chuckle. The boys hand is small and warm, and he almost doesn't want to let go. Emma gestures into the diner and he follows the two, suddenly eager to share a meal and get to know this boy who is his son.
"Why do you have that band aid near your eye?"
Emma bites her lip to keep from smiling and Bae meets the gaze with a similar grin, though embarrassed. "Well, when I got into town last night, Henry, I came here to meet your mom for a drink and when I went to leave, I got up too fast and fell. Bumped my head on that booth over there."
"That stinks." He remarks, frowning. "Well, at least you're okay."
"Yeah, yeah, i'll be fine." He chuckles. "So you have school soon?"
"Yeah, I have to." The frown hasn't left his face. "What about you, why are you suddenly coming to visit my mom?"
Emma is smiling, and Bae expects the title is somewhat new that he's been using in public. He shrugs. "I...drive a truck, for work, and I knew she lived in Boston. I was going to swing in and say hi and she said she was here, so..."
Henry is watching him, as if he is weighing whether or not this is the truth. Emma shrugs, as if she does not know what to do with him and Bae laughs. "I promise, I come in peace."
"You're an old boyfriend, aren't you?"
Bae chokes on his coffee, spitting it up a bit and Emma's eyes widen. "Okay, kid, it's time to get you to school. You're mom would flip enough to know that you were here with us for so long. C'mon." She eyes Bae apologetically as Henry get's his things together. "I'll be back right after."
"So that's a yes." He can hear Henry as they leave the diner and see's Emma shake her head in exhaustion. Bae cannot help but chuckle to himself. What a precocious kid.
"He what?"
Emma sighs, rolling her eyes. "I know. That's what started this whole..." She waves her arms around. "Thing. He thinks that I'm supposed to be the one to fix everything, to break the curse. That the reason I was found on the side of the road?" She poses the question, to see if he remembers. Bae nods in acknowledgement. "Is because my parents sent me through a magically wardrobe that Gepetto carved out of a tree from the Blue Fairy." She shakes her head. "It's absolutely ludicrous..."
Bae has stiffened at the mention of the Blue Fairy though, and doesn't hear much past that. Fairy tale characters is one thing...but the Blue Fairy?
Reul Ghorm, the village girl's voice echoes in his mind. Good lords in all the heavens, sometimes he wonders why he ever listened.
But then he supposed he wouldn't be here. Henry wouldn't, maybe even Emma. Would anyone? Who knows how long time passed there, how long his father had wielded the Dark Forces and controlled the land. He wondered how this place even came to be, what the purported story was behind it.
"Who are your parents supposed to be?"
She doesn't realize he hasn't been listening and flushes in the middle of her rant about just how ridiculous this all is, as if she is trying to convince herself her son is wrong. "Mary Margaret."
He laughs. "Aren't you living with her? Well that's convenient." He shakes his head, then remembers the man from the diner. A brief glance, barely even registered, but suddenly, making perfect sense. "Who does he...who does he think the man with the cane is?"
"Mr. Gold?" She asks surprised. "I didn't know you had even met him. He's one Henry's not sure about. But really, come on..." She shakes her head. "Fairytales, Pete. Fairytales, and magic!"
He winces as if he has hit her, and she cannot help but stare. He shrugs. "It sounds like you're trying more to convince yourself that it's not true than it is."
She sputters, jumping to her feet as she slaps her hands to her thighs. "You can't possibly be even considering...you're all crazy! I just cannot..." She shakes her head. "Mary Margaret is my age! David Nolan is...is...well, he means well, but he's kind of a jackass." Bae can tell she is reluctant to say it, and means it not as an insult, and he wonders to her out loud if she would be more severe toward him if she truly did not believe the story.
She looks furious. "Well, at least know now where he gets this psychosis from." She snaps, shaking her head still as she grabs her things. "Don't encourage him, alright? Just...he has enough trouble as it is. I can't believe how you can even think..." She is still muttering angrily to herself as she stalks off. He stays on the bench, staring into the cold night.
"Because I know." He whispers as she walks away. "I know exactly who he is."
"Young Henry has taken quite a shine to you." The man's soft voice is deceptive in that it gives the false impression of peace. There is no other person you should trust less, really.
Bae closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, slowly, before steeling himself to turn. He has been dreading this ever since the night at the diner. He's gone out of his way to avoid the pawn shop owner in the past few days, but he is not surprised, given Henry's correct fairytale theory, that he has now been sought out, as he's been spending an inordinate amount of time around the two.
He looks just as he remembers he did when he was a boy, before the Ogre Wars overtook the lands and the men started to come for the children. There is a stirring of longing in his chest that lasts only for a moment before it is extinguished with bitterness and anger. He forces a tight smile. "He's a good kid."
"Aye, yes, that he is." Mr. Gold walks to him now, slowly, the tap of the cane loud against the cement in the chilly air. They are alone on the main street outside of the Inn he's staying at, and Mr. Gold is circling him, as if he is prey. Bae wonders if he has any idea of his true identity; if he does, he is not showing it, and he has no intention of giving him the idea.
"Can I help you, Mr...?"
"Gold." The man offers, stopping now, seemingly satisfied with his examination. "I was just curious, what has brought you to our fair town."
He shrugs now, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Emma's an old friend. Thought I'd swing by and see her new place, say hi."
"You...are from the area?"
"I'm a truck driver." He supplies, eyes narrowing. There is no innocent question from this man, and he is careful not to give away too much. Gold smiles and nods.
"Ah, I see. Sounds like a...lonely lifestyle. Not much family, I take it?"
Bae frowns at the implication, knowing that Gold is merely trying for a reaction. This man is nothing like the father he knew; he is merely still the Dark One, but in his old clothes. "Sir, I'm not sure how any of this is relevant or, to be honest, your business."
The smile that the graces the man's face makes Bae go cold-he has made a mistake. "Of course, of course. I understand, your relationship with Ms. Swan and Henry is a...delicate one."
His heart is racing; that is the assumption Gold was working off of and his evasion has only increased the certainty. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"I mean, it's awfully convenient that an old friend of Emma's rolls into town only days after she has made it clear she will be fighting for custody of her son." He says simply. "Especially one such as yourself. I'm not sure either of you are aware of how you interact, but it's clear...friends, you are, but how good of friends..."
"There is nothing going on between Emma and I."
"I'm sure there's not." He smiles in a slippery manner. "Have a good night, Mr. Foster."
Bae watches him go, fading into the night, and is sure he has never told him his name.
"I want you to tell him. I want him to know."
The conversation from the night before with Gold has unnerved him. He wants to tell Henry, before someone else has a chance to, before Regina finds out and spirits the boy away, before anything else may go wrong.
Or maybe he just wants to tell him, because he is his, and he wants him to know that. Seeing his father has affected him in a way he had not expected; he is still angry with the man, and will probably never forgive him completely, but if it has taught him anything, it's how precious that is. He does not want to taint it with Henry; he wants a real chance, and he's not real sure how Emma's going to react at that, but he doesn't really much care.
"Look, I understand that you're mad..." Emma begins, her tone one that is usually used to placate a child. He's had it.
"You understand nothing!" His hands slam down on the booth they are sitting at, causing the china to jump with a great noise, drawing some looks from the other patrons. He lowers his voice to a furious whisper, and Emma watches him with wide eyes. "I didn't have a choice! I have never had a choice!"
Emma sits back now, her hands up in the air aside her head. She didn't know him long at all, but she knew him to not have such a temper and the ferocity of his claim startles her.
"You said you didn't want kids."
He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "You still should've told me." It is not just her. Even if he threw the bean on the ground, he feels like he truly has never had a choice in any of this.
He has never been a big believer in fate, because he is reluctant to believe that it was destined that his father become the monster he was, or that getting stranded in this place was meant to be. But when he thinks of Emma, of her unfortunate past and of Henry, it just seems all too fortuitous. He may not have planned it, but magic always did have its consequences and while it may not exist here, it certainly led them to this place. He understands now, in the course of the past week that he has been here, that none of this has been happenstance. Emma-he and Emma had obviously happened for a reason, although he doubts his father had anything to do with it. But he knows one thing for sure.
He's not his father. And he's not giving up this gift without a fight.
They are at a spot by the lake, where he is told a play set once stood that was Henry's only refuge. His sons arms are around his waist tightly, his head pressed into his chest hard. He lets his hands run over the kids soft brown hair, a smile on his face he cannot keep away and he drops his head to look down at he top of it. He's vaguely aware of Emma a few feet in front of him, weeping softly, but he is not very keyed in. He is enjoying this too much.
"We can't tell my mom," Henry's voice is muffled, and when he pulls away, his eyes are wide and panicked. "You can't, she'll...she'll hurt you, and Emma! She knows you're trying to get me back."
"I know, I know. " Bae squats so he is at eye level with the boy. "I just didn't want to keep it from you anymore. I didn't want you to think i'd lied to you." He pauses, catching himself, and then steeled his gaze into his son's. "Henry, I promise you, I will do everything I can to never lie to you."
He seems to consider it for a moment, then breaks into a smile. "I know."
"I'm sure he will be sad. When you go."
The man is everywhere. A chill runs up his spine as he turns with a sigh. "Hello, Mr. Gold. How are you this morning?" Emma had to be in early at the station, so he has taken Henry to school after their breakfast at the diner, a ritual that Regina still has thankfully not put a complete stop to.
"It's a fine morning." The old man comments with a shrug. "Is our fine Mayor aware you've taken over for Ms. Swan in the mornings?"
"Does she need to be?" He rounds back, his tone clipped. He grows more irritated as Mr. Gold laughs.
"Calm down, my boy, I mean no harm."
There is something about the what he says-my boy-that causes Bae to snap. He is grateful there seems to be no one else around.
"What gives you the right..."
"No one gives me anything around here, lad. I take what is mine by right. I have earned it, I swear." He snaps. "I own this town. And you'd do well to remember that, if you're going to be hanging around much longer."
He realizes now that Gold believes him to be Henry's father, but has no idea past that of his identity, which gives him some comfort. Bae is a threat to him, he knows this; he is not part of the plan, an unexpected newcomer, much like the Stranger was that Emma has told him much about, and so he cannot be good. He shakes his head with a scoff, turning to walk away. "Typical..." He mutters to himself.
"Excuse me?" Gold asks, as if insulted.
"Nothing, Mr. Gold. It was nice speaking with you."
He begins to retreat again, feeling the man's gaze on his back. He will not relent, he knows this, and waits for something more; Rumplestiltskin always gets what he wants.
"I'll let Regina know that i'm sure you're a fine escort for her son."
He recognizes a threat when he hears it, and is not inclined to be idle. He swings around, still feet from the older man. "You will mind your own business, for once-"
"You keep speaking to me as if you know me. As if I've wronged you in some grievous manner. I assure you, sir, if that is the case..."
"You abuse your power over this town." He remarks coolly. "Emma, Henry...everyone here, I'd gather, are innocent people in whatever game it is your playing. I'd rather not be a pawn in it."
The shop owner grins. Too late for that, Bae thinks to himself. He is lucky to have the ace up his sleeve. He does not know if this is the best venture to take, but Gold already knows who he is to Henry. "If you try and take him from Emma or I, you'll regret it."
"Don't threaten me, boy." Gold snaps, the grin gone. He has, by this time, hobbled over so he but inches from the younger man's face. There is a predatory flash in the mans glare that passes to be replaced with a conniving smile. "But, if you were willing...I could be of some service to you and Ms. Swan, if you'd like."
"I've been in town for a week, but I know better to make a deal with you, old man. Now, if you'll excuse me-"
"I always honor my agreements, lad. I promise your boy-"
Bae has had enough. He was always a pacifist in the Old Realm, but here, he cannot help it. He grabs the cloth of Mr. Gold's jacket and fists it. "You will stay away from him. And you will keep quiet about it. Consider it pay back for the deal you did not keep."
The blood drains from Gold's face quickly, the words taking a moment to fully sink into his mind. Bae releases him quickly, hoping he will not regret his words. He can see the old man is unnerved and cautious, and doesn't quite know to believe him, or even if he has inferred the words correctly. Bae isn't going to stand around and find out. He straightens his arms. "Have a good day. Sir."
He stalks away, out of sight, toward the Inn. Mr. Gold stands there alone for a long time.
"He's been watching us a lot more closely lately." Emma comments later that day. Henry is not with them, having gone right home after the school day was over. Emma is sitting across from him, sipping on a hot cocoa even though its warm outside, enjoying a bit of a reprieve before going back to the station. Bae has made acquaintances here-Mary Margaret seems to like him enough, and he knows she knows who he is, as does her boyfriend David, who doesn't seem to like Bae as much, which really makes sense when he thinks about it-but Emma is the one he knows best, so they spend a lot of time with each other. He bites his lip at her observation; Mr. Gold had been in the diner when they arrived and although he has been inconspicuous, the little hairs on the back of his neck still are on end. He sighs.
"He knows." He says softly, and Emma's eyes go huge. She's about to start yelling so he grabs her hand to calm her. "He figured it out. But don't worry, I'm handling it."
"Handling it? Handling it!" She whispers back furiously. "Goddammit Pete..." She is shaking her head. "I swear to God..."
"I promise you, Emma."
"That doesn't mean much to me and you know it." She snaps. "He's dangerous." She warns. "Be careful; his deals are far from fair."
She doesn't quite understand the wry, sad smile that graces his lips. "You know, I believe that even more than you know."
Her eyebrows shoot up and she wants to press for more, but her phone buzzes to life. She growls in frustration and throws a five to the table, point at him as she pockets the cell. "You're going to tell me everything later. Or i'll throw you in jail, so help me God."
He holds his hands up with a laugh. "Alright, alright. I'll see you later."
Mr. Gold slips into the booth moments after she is gone. Bae is still sipping his cup of coffee, anticipating the visit. "Good afternoon, sir."
"I think we've spoken enough to skip the niceties." He waves off Ruby as she passes by to take an order and relaxes back in his seat. His hands are resting on the formica surface, fingers drumming. He was nervous; Bae wondered if anyone in this sleepy little town had ever seen him nervous.
"My father always taught me to respect my elders." He replies with a shrug, and Gold's gaze falls, commencing to look around the restaurant. Anywhere but at Bae; he was taunting him, and he knew it.
"Did you mean what you said earlier? That it could make up for...past indiscretions?"
Bae put his coffee down, looking up at him. There was sorrow in the man's eyes to be sure, the corners of the drooping toward the floor. He was older, he could see that, and he looked so much more exhausted than he had this morning. He had no doubt that Gold was sorry. But he wasn't sure how much of a difference that made.
"It would help."
"And you'll stay then? In town, you'll stay here. With Henry?" Near me, he can hear the implication.
"I don't want to leave." Bae responds smoothly with a shrug. "How could someone let that sort of opportunity slip through their fingers? Their only son? How could someone throw that away?"
He says it on purpose. He wants the knife to twist and Gold flinches under the statement. "Bae..." Gold whispers, cautiously, like a question, even almost like a prayer. No one has ever spoke his name to him, not in many, many years. It's too much, too soon.
"I'm not," He replies, shaking his head as he pushes away from the booth. He needs to leave. "I am no one's son. Not anymore. Not for a long time."
He leaves the old imp alone, just like always, just like the man chose, so many years before. He hurries from the diner, doesn't even look back. He'll just avoid him from now on, he decides. This dynamic is too much, and making sure everything is alright with he and Henry and Emma is so much more important to him right now, he just doesn't have the time or the ability to deal with all of the baggage that comes with anything else.
But then Henry is there. He is grinning up at Bae, his smile wide and bright, seemingly to appear from nowhere, claiming that he has snuck away from home because he wanted to hang out. Bae cannot help but smile back. He knows from Emma's brief rant a few days before that Henry believes her to be the savior of the town, to break the curse and restore the natural order, but he cannot help but believe that being here, seeing his father once more, coming home...Henry is the hope. Henry is his hope.
He pulls the boy to him in a hug, rubbing his head affectionately before letting him go. Henry is chattering excitedly about showing him his storybook, that his dad-he loves that word, by the way-is now a member of Operation Cobra (something he'll have to clarify with Emma because he doesn't really get that), and stands in front of him, staring upward, talking a mile a minute. Bae looks into the diner though; he finds Gold's gaze over his son's head, and see's the old man is watching them closely, pain in his face. Bae meet his gaze pointedly, and smiles, even offering a small nod.
He watches as Gold's jaws twitch, and he sits for a moment, very still as he swallows and nods to himself. He hopes the man understands; he will go to him later, later that night, and he will speak with him. He wants to be done with this. He can have a home here now, with Henry, and Emma, and even Gold. He will be happy here, eventually. He will be no longer lost.
"C'mon Henry," He pats the boy on the back. "Let's go and have you show me that Storybook."
And Henry, a smile on his face with not a doubt in his mind, leads the way.