The creaking of the chair is what first draws Emma to the back of the pawn shop. She's not fond of the little place to start with. It's too closed in, too dark and sad, the remnants of many people's tragedies on display for others to see. But Gold, he's been sticking his pointy little nose in where it doesn't belong. She's sure he knows something about Kathryn's disappearance. He has to. Gold, as people have been so eager to tell her, knows everyone and everything.
But she finds the pawn shop strangely empty, the enigmatic proprietor missing despite the open sign on the door and the dim light that barely illuminates the place even on the brightest of days. She hears the creaking coming from the back of the shop and for a moment she worries that the man, dark and powerful though he may appear, may have injured himself. He does have that limp, needs to use a cane to get around. She had been sure it was for show at first, a strange affection of sorts, but the more she watches him, the more clearly she sees the need is genuine. There's the grimace when his foot hits the ground the wrong way, the disdainful way he glances at the cane as he picks it up.
He needs it and he detests it, there is no doubt.
When she steps through the curtains, she does so with her hand on the gun that sits on her hip. Better safe than sorry. But what she finds there is not what she ever expected. Gold is nowhere to be found. The creaking sound she heard upon entering the shop is coming from an old rocking chair. Emma knows little about antiques but she can tell it is both old and well taken care of. But it's not the chair that halts Emma in her tracks and causes her jaw to drop.
There's a woman there, if woman she indeed is. She's small, dark hair pulled back to reveal hollowed cheeks and skin that is far too pale. Her eyes do not move as Emma steps into the room and for a moment she wonders if the woman is alive. Would Gold truly keep a corpse in the back of his shop? He's creepy, she'll give him that much and she suddenly wonders just how creepy he truly is. This might just be the creepiest thing she's seen of him yet.
But no, Emma sees the woman's chest move. "I'm sorry," she finally manages to mutter. "I was looking for Mr. Gold…"
There is no response to her words and Emma glances quickly around the room before making the decision to step further into the back of the shop. She comes to kneel in front of the woman and still there is no response. Her eyes do not move, do not blink. Her hands do not so much as twitch. Emma sees a small amount of drool in the corner of her mouth.
"Belle, darling, I have a new…" The voice comes from behind her, trailing off as she hears him step into the back room. "Miss Swan." There is a tightness to his voice that she's not heard before. She stands and turns quickly to face him.
"What have you done, Gold? So help me…"
"Done?" he counters with. There is something seething just below the surface. She's seen rage from the man before. He did, after all, nearly beat a man to death. But there is more here than just rage. "I have done nothing. Now if you'll excuse me…"
He starts to move past her, but Emma reaches out a hand and grips his upper arm. Tight. Probably tighter than she needs to in that moment, but she remembers well his almost unholy strength. "Who is she, Gold?"
He pulls his arm away. "I believe that's none of your business."
"Really?" She puts her hand on her holster, close to where her badge still sat. "Did you forget you helped make me sheriff?"
"Something I regret every day." The words are dark, but Emma knows he doesn't mean them. He had done too much to put her into that position. She still doesn't know why.
"I take my job seriously," she mutters.
"I'm sure you do. And there is nothing for you to police here, so if you'd kindly…"
"No. I'm not leaving." She steps between him and the woman, who still hasn't moved. She wonders if screaming the way she sometimes wishes she could would cause the woman to react. "You're going to answer my questions."
"Or what? You'll drag me back behind bars. You have no reason to do so."
She takes a step toward him, meets his eyes. "I think I have plenty of reason."
Gold stays where he is for a moment, his eyes clashing with hers, before stepping back. He heaves a sigh as he steps around her and uses his cane to kneel at the woman's side. "She's my wife."
She almost misses the whispered words, but they settle into her mind a few moments after he's spoken them. "You're what?"
"You heard me." She watches as he reaches out a hand and places it over the young woman's. His face has softened somehow, the hard edges smoothing out, the eyebrows that are always drawn low over his eyes rising slightly. It's a look he wears well, one she knows most have never seen. But it looks strangely right on his face.
"You're married."
He makes a small scoffing noise. "You sound surprised."
She blinks. "I am. Does anyone know?"
"Most of the town, if they would just search their memories." He shakes his head, his hand still gripping the woman's. "But they don't bother. They've forgotten her. They've forgotten my wife." His voice chokes up slightly as he speaks and without thinking about it, she puts her hand on his shoulder. He shrugs her off a moment later but she'd like to imagine he needed a bit of comfort for at least that one small moment.
"What happened to her?" She wishes she could take the words back as soon as they're out of her mouth. But it's too late. Gold stands and when his eyes meet hers again, they're cold and the planes of his face have hardened again. He is no longer the soft lover but the threatening landlord the town is entirely too scared of.
"I don't…"
"I know. You don't have to tell me." She waits. She knows the truth after all, knows this defense mechanism all too well. He wants to tell her.
"Someday you will know the truth." And there is a calculating look there, an impatient one. "But for now..." He waves a hand in the air as he speaks. "She has been like this since the accident."
"Accident?"
"She tried to leave town, Miss Swan."
She rolls her eyes at him. "Oh not you too, Gold. I thought you were more normal than that." If anyone seems grounded in reality, it's Gold. He deals in contracts and money, carries a gun when he feels threatened, limps his way around town and watches as everyone scampers out of his way. He's small, almost fragile with his damaged and twisted foot, yet the entire town fears him like she's never seen people fear someone before. It's insane. But so are most things in this weird little town.
"There was an accident," he finally says. "She tried to leave and ran her car off the road. We…" And here he pauses and she sees the pain flit somewhere behind his eyes. "We had fought."
"She was leaving you." She doesn't even phrase the words as a question.
He shakes his head, closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them he's looking at the woman still sitting in the chair, still unmoving, blue eyes staring at nothing. Emma wonders if she can see anything at all. "I don't know," he whispers. "Maybe she was just blowing off steam. I just don't know." The pain there is palpable. "I'll never know, Miss Swan. The doctors…they say this is the best I can hope for."
Emma shudders. This was no way to live a life. The woman, Belle he had called her, sitting without moving, growing old sitting in a rocking chair with only the pawnbroker for company. And Gold, watching over a wife who was dead in all but name only. "I'm sorry," she manages to get out. "I'll just leave you."
He runs a hand over his eyes before turning to face her. "Did you need me for something, Miss Swan?"
"It can wait."
"Thank you." He nods at her and turns back to the woman she now knows is his wife. She steps out of the room, taking a deep breath at the less oppressive air at the front of the shop, suddenly desperate to be outside again.
But she pauses as she hears him begin to speak to the woman. "Belle, sweetheart. That's Emma Swan. You remember my talking about Emma, right?" A pause. "She's going to make this alright. I promise sweetheart. She'll get you back." Emma doesn't know how she's going to do that, but there's so much conviction in his voice that she feels her heart break for him. She's nothing. Just a girl from Boston, a former juvenile delinquent who has found her past catching up with her. "I found a new book for you, sweetheart." She hears a scraping sound, the tap of his cane, and then a bit of rustling as he sits in the chair she imagines he's drawn up close by the woman's rocking chair. "A whole new story. One of those adventure novels you liked so much. Shall I read it to you?" A pause. "I know you'd rather read it yourself. When you wake up, you can…"
She leaves then, turning the sign to closed and shutting the door quietly behind her. She doesn't need to hear the rest of his one-sided conversation, the pain in a voice she never thought to hear laced with such an emotion. The vulnerability of it all has left her feeling raw inside. Mr. Gold is the hated town monster, but she wonders in that moment if he has simply cultivated that personality to keep everyone away from the woman in the chair.
She suspects she'll never know. But she'll keep his secret anyway. Somehow it feels important to.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has commented on this fic asking for a sequel. I just posted a sequel called Broken. I hope you enjoy it!