The first one came to him while he was deep into a whiskey-aided sleep, and so when he awoke, he was able to convince himself it had been nothing more than a dream, though the truth twisted his gut and robbed him of any appetite for breakfast the next morning. Those that followed—relentlessly, one every night for seven nights—left no room for doubt, however, as they struck him at all hours, even while he was fully awake, even as he was in motion, striding silently down the sidewalks of Storybrooke to collect rent, or even as he was in mid-conversation with a would-be dealmaker (who invariably would leave disappointed; he seldom made deals these days. What he wanted, what he needed, had been refused to him.)
He thought he might speak to the psychiatrist about his problem, because it was impinging upon his work. Perhaps worse would happen, if he didn't get a grip soon: Regina and the Charmings had started to look at him sideways. He was slipping and it showed in the scuff marks on his Italian loafers, the awkward angle of his tie, the untrimmed ends of his graying hair. Well, hell, what did they expect? A man had a right to let himself go a little, after all he'd been through: Cora, Pan, Zelena, Hades, and worst of all, Bae and Belle.
Between his magic and his money, he was just as invincible as ever. At least he had that to hang onto. No one could defeat him, except himself. That's what made the visions scary: he couldn't figure out if they came from someplace real or if he was going crazy. And no matter how the people in this town felt about him, nobody wanted to see the Dark One go crazy, least of all himself.
In the first vision, he saw Baelfire, as a grown man, sitting on the edge of his bed. That was all, just sitting and grinning that irresistible grin.
In the second vision, he saw Baelfire leaning against a door. Gold felt his legs move on their own volition from under the covers. He felt his torso rise and his feet hit the wooden floor, and as he padded toward the door, Bae straightened, still grinning, and slipped a welcoming arm around Gold's shoulders, and the two of them passed through the closed door. In the blink of an eye they were standing in a sunny room filled with vases of flowers and pink balloons, and greeting cards competed for space on a nightstand, just as people competed for space in the room. Chatter and laughter made the room noisy. Bae and Gold hesitated at the threshold, taking it all in as Gold gave names to all these people: Regina, Robin, Snow, David, Emma, Hook, Henry, Doc, Dopey, Grumpy, Astrid, Ruby, Granny, Archie, Will.
Bae's grin wavered as he gave a small push to Gold's back, urging him in. The room fell silent, smiles faded, and the crowd parted, making space for him in the center. He squared his shoulders and took the space granted to him. There in the center of the room was a bed, its head elevated; and there in the bed sat a blushing Belle. Her hair, pulled back by a red ribbon, shone in the sunlight. She wore a lacy bedjacket with a matching red ribbon. Sleeping in the crook of her arm was a redfaced newborn.
Gold dared to come up to her bedside, though he doubted if he was welcome. He dared to lean over her and stoke the tip of his index finger against the baby's cheek. Belle frowned and pulled the baby close to her breast.
"Her name?" He heard himself ask. "What's her name?"
The baby's eyes flew open and fixed on his, and then she began to wail.
He jerked his finger back. And then he awoke.
The third vision struck him as he was driving the Caddy to Marine's Garage for an oil change. He pulled over into a loading zone and shifted the gears into park before his sight was taken over completely.
A pair of hands was holding a toddler up by the waist. The baby giggled and reached out to grasp her caretaker's nose. "Daddy!" The hands brought the baby down from the sky and in for a cuddle. In the background somewhere, Belle's voice urged, "Give Daddy a kiss. That's right! Give him a big kiss." The face that the little girl planted her kiss on was long and oval; the brown hair that the little one patted was short-shaven on the sides and longer on the top.
Gold felt himself step backward. Over his shoulder he sought Bae, whose grin was shaky. "Bae!" Gold called out for help, but Bae only shook his head as the Daddy, Mommy and Baby continued to giggle and coo. Gold pleaded, "But I'm—"
Knuckles rapping on his windshield took him out of the vision. A man in blue coveralls barked at him. "Gold! You okay?"
The third vision struck as he stood at Granny's counter, awaiting his to-go order (a burger—he didn't really care that much for burgers, but they reminded him of happier days). It was Belle's voice again, urging, "It's okay, sweetheart. It's just for the afternoon. He's going to take you to the park. Won't that be nice?" And a little girl with big brown eyes and luxurious auburn locks threw herself into Belle's arms and shrieked as though dragons were chasing her. "I don't want to go! Don't make me go! Mama, please!"
"It'll be fine. I promise." Belle tried to pry the child loose and push her away.
"Don't make me! Mama, I'm scared!"
The long-faced man stroked the child's hair. "He won't hurt you. He's your father, sugarplum. He just wants to—"
"He's not my daddy! You're my daddy! He's a monster! Don't make me—"
"Yo, Gold. One burger, extra pickles, order of fries, to go." Granny's irritated voice brought him back to Storybrooke.
In other visions he watched the child grow. She looked just like her mother and nothing at all like the man she called Daddy. From the clothes she wore to the toys she played with, it was clear she was being raised on much more than a librarian's salary. Something deep down told Gold that he was doing right by her, sending hefty child support checks, bringing gifts every time he tried to visit her, but she trembled whenever he attempted to hug her and she flatly refused to leave her parents' protection to go anywhere with him. Escorted by Bae, Gold followed the little girl to school, where boys picked on her and girls shut her out of their play circles. "Monster's brat, monster's brat!" they chanted at her, and Ms. Nolan embraced her and wiped away her tears and gave her a storybook to keep her company.
"I wish he was dead," the child whispered to Ms. Nolan.
The seventh vision broke Gold open, left him sobbing in the alley where he'd taken refuge when it hit him. When he came to himself, a fistful of cash in his hand, he was lying in the gravel, knees drawn to his chest, and he was moaning, "Bae, help me, Bae. Help her, Bae." For in the seventh vision, he had felt himself lying flat on his back against a hard surface. He was cold and he couldn't open his eyes, but he heard hushed voices over him. "I don't know why you made me come," a female voice spat. "And don't say 'Because he was your father.' He was nothing more than a sperm donor, as far as I'm concerned, and I'm glad we're finally free of the bastard."
The seventh was the last vision. The next morning, he propped the shop doors open and put up a sign inviting passersby to "take what's yours." He'd never made a profit from the shop anyway. He turned over management of his rentals to Dove, and then he retreated into the pink house. From its third-story windows he sometimes watched his ex-wife stroll by, first alone, while her belly was still flat, then with friends or her father as her belly swelled. She smiled but she didn't seem to laugh much. When she was no longer able to climb the stairs to her apartment, Dove rented her a three-bedroom house for the price of a studio apartment and her father moved in with her. Gold watched the two of them carry in boxes, then sit out on the porch swing and sip tea in the summer sun. In a heartbeat he would have gladly traded his mansion just for a chance to sleep on the floor beside the cradle in that third bedroom.
He was standing at his window on the morning French ran out of the bungalow, tossed a suitcase in the trunk of Belle's Honda, then led Belle herself to passenger seat. He watched the Honda rip down Moncton Street, ignoring the stop signs. He was still standing by the window, staring into the night, when Dove called. "Mr. G., you have a daughter."
He was standing in the corner of Room 334, cloaked in magic so that the hospital staff couldn't see him, when an orderly ordered Moe out. "Visiting hours are over. You can come back at 9 tomorrow." And when all had gone and the room was quiet and the lights out for the night, he came out from under his magic and approached the bed on silent heels. She caught him anyway. "Rumple?" she sounded half-asleep as she struggled to sit up, then gave up and sank back down into her pillows.
"Yeah, it's me." He took her hand. She didn't fight him, but she didn't return his squeeze. "Congratulations, sweetheart."
"Congratulations to you too." Belle yawned. "Why weren't you here for the delivery?"
"I didn't think you'd want me."
"Well, maybe it's for the best." Her hand slid away and he let it go. "We'll have to talk about how to make this work."
"I want to be worthy of her. I want to be in her life, even if I can't be in yours. It's a small town; it's easy to share custody, like Regina and Emma—"
"We'll figure it out tomorrow. Please, I need some sleep. . . ."
"Belle, I don't want her to be ashamed of me. I don't want her to be kept away from other kids, like Bae was, because of me. Belle, I'm afraid she'll grow up afraid of me, like he did. Like he's been trying to tell me. . . ."
"Can we talk about this tomorrow? I've just been through twelve hours of labor."
"I'm going to make sure she has her best chance." He touched her cheek lightly before moving away. "That she never feels she wasn't her papa's first choice."
He waited in the shadows of the corridor until the maternity ward nurse had completed his nightly rounds. In his final act of magic, Gold transported himself into the nursery beside the only occupied crib. He tilted his head to read the identification tag attached to the crib, and when he did, he felt certain he'd made the right decision, for now he knew his daughter's name. He had a watery smile for her as he walked around the crib to stand by her side; he would make that his place from now on, beside her, for as long as she would have him. He picked up her fist and looked into her unfocused eyes. "Your papa's here, Arianwen Colette Gold. I love you, and your mama, and your brother with all my heart."
He bent over her and pressed his lips to her forehead, and a blinding white light flared out from the kiss and for just a moment filled the nursery, then the third floor, then the hospital, then the town. The baby waved her fists in the air and Gold laughed, and over his shoulder he saw Bae leaning in the doorway, grinning.