Rumplestiltskin is sitting on the subway when he notices her.

There's a girl sitting opposite him a few seats down. She's thin, too thin he thinks idly. Her dark auburn -painfully familiar- hair falls around her face shielding it from his view, and suddenly he stops breathing.

No. Don't be stupid. It couldn't be. He mentally scolds himself.

It's been over 15 years, why would she ever come now?

It had been 15 years and 6 months to be exact. He hates that he still counts, but not enough to stop.

You complete idiot! It's not her. She would look different by now. Besides she doesn't lov-

He was startled out of his thoughts by a quiet sob coming from the small figure as she pulled her knees to her chest. She was crying. Not just crying; she was sobbing. None of the few other passengers paid her any mind as her body was wracked with another sob. He couldn't stand it; that was just too familiar a sight for him to ignore.
Rumplestiltskin gripped the curved handle of his cane just a little too tight as he made his way to the sobbing stranger.

This is a bad idea.

He didn't have to walk more than 10 feet, but his ankle was already throbbing when he cautiously sat a few feet away from the girl.

This is such a bad idea.

He leans his cane between his knees, resting his hands on the wooden handle, worn smooth by years of constant use.

"uh.." He hesitated. He was hit with the memory of what Belle had told him so many years ago, "Heroes always help strangers". He sighed deeply and turned towards the still sobbing girl.

"Uh…are you…are you okay?"

She raised her head toward him and he gasped.
Sad cerulean eyes stared back at him. It wasn't her, he realized with a pang of disappointment. It wasn't Belle. Had he really thought it would be?

"No. N-not really." She wiped tears on her sleeve, leaving black smears on her cream sweater from the small amount of black makeup surrounding her eyes. She looked exactly like what he would imagine Belle looked like as a teenager; thin and a bit lanky, but beautiful. When the girl shifted further away and eyed him suspiciously he realized he'd been staring at her.

"I uh…I'm sorry. You just look a lot like someone I used to know" his gaze shifted to the fingers that were anxiously turning the ring on his left hand. He had never taken it off, 15 years and he couldn't recall one time that he had taken it off. The first week in New York he had sold anything of any value, his gold cufflinks and tie clip, his silk tie, even his silk handkerchief had gotten him a small amount of money. Several pawnshops and antique stores had offered to buy the ring. The money probably would have done him well, but he couldn't even bring himself to take his wedding ring off, let alone sell it.

"Do you mind me asking why you're so upset?" He looked back up at the girl, awaiting an answer.

"I- no…no it's fine." She dropped her feet back to the ground and ran a shaky hand through her hair. "My mom is uh- she's sick." Her voice faltered at the last word and fresh tears threatened to fall, but she managed to compose herself enough to continue. "She needs-"She paused, closing her eyes for a moment, looking for the right words. "I'm trying to find someone."

This girl couldn't be more than 15 or 16, and she was on a subway, alone, at night, telling a complete stranger about her sick mother. The parent in him kicked in.

"Did you run away?" He questioned.

Her eyes widened with what could only be fear. "Please don't tell anyone- I-I have to find him. I can't-I can't let her die without-"She sputtered, a frantic sob escaping her lips as she stared at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"Hey, hey it's ok. I won't tell anyone." He reassured, trying to comfort her without actually touching her. "I had to find someone here once too."

"R-really?" she had relaxed slightly, but she was still fighting the tears that weren't relenting, and struggling to breathe steadily.

"Yes…a long time ago. And I recall that it was a lot easier to find who I was looking for when I had help." He said, his lips turning up slightly. "What's your name?"

"I-my name is J-Jane" She said warily. If he was her he would be wary too, he wouldn't expect anyone to trust him very quickly after all.

"That's a lovely name" A smile found its way to his eyes. "Now, Jane. Who is it that you're looking for? I may be able to help" He didn't know if that was true, but he would certainly try. He had only known the girl for all of 10 minutes, but he felt a strange connection with her and for whatever reason, he didn't want to let her down.

"I'm looking for my dad…He uh-I've never met him. But my mom misses him. Every day. I can tell. The way she talks about him…" She trailed off, gazing at the seat opposite her. "She needs to see him before- If she doesn't get better I just wanted to-"She was at a loss for words. "He needs to know." She finally said with a long shaky sigh. His heart ached for her. She had grown up without a father -not unlike his own son- and now she could possibly lose her mother. There was a long pause before she spoke again. "so…do you think you could help me…mister-"

"Gold…You can call me Mr. Gold" He answered her unspoken question. He turned to her and was surprised to see her staring at him with wide eyes. She spoke before he could question.

"What's your first name?!" She blurted, obviously more forcefully than she had meant to, a hand flew to cover her mouth.

"uhh- It's just Mr. Gold." He hadn't meant to make it sound like a question, but now she was looking at him with an unreadable mixture of emotions. Fear? Sadness? Hope? Yes there was definitely hope.

"Sorry...it's just...never mind." She looked at her hands for a beat, then back at him, "my mom's name is Belle. Belle Gold.".

It took a moment for him to process her words.
Belle. Her mother's name was Belle Gold. That could not be a coincidence. His head was pounding as hard as his heart as it beat out of his chest. A lump in his throat was preventing him from replying, and tears were blurring his vision as he fought to keep them from his cheeks.

That was all Jane needed.

"Rumplestiltskin?" Tears were stinging her own eyes once again.

He couldn't speak. He could hardly breathe. All he could do was nod. Nod and smile a tearful smile at the equally tearful girl in front of him.

"Rumplestiltskin… I believe I'm your daughter."

He felt faint. So many thoughts crowded his mind, yet there were only two things he could focus on

He has a daughter.

And Belle is waiting for them to come home.