Maybe he could talk to Emma instead. Yeah. They've always had a kind of respect for each other, certainly more of a directness in their relationship than he's had with any of the others, even his own son.
When that realization hits him, he stops his pacing. He stares across his garden, now sleeping beneath a layer of frost in preparation for the snows to come, and then Christmas in one month. Gods. Why did Emma and He Who Should Not Be Named have to choose Christmas Eve for their wedding date? Why did they have to take away that day, that one day when it's okay to put all sorrowful and angry memories aside (aside, but not behind, never behind, never forgotten) and simply enjoy being together as a family? Why did they take away the one day when the Charmings would allow him to pretend he was Grandpa Gold, not the fearsome and despicable Dark One, not the know-it-all sorcerer, not the cold-hearted pawnbroker; the one day when he could sit on a couch with a hot toddy in one hand and Belle's knee under the other, while Queen Snow distributes prettily-ribboned gifts and Charming sneaks peeks at some football game on the TV (with the volume off; it's his compromise with Snow) and Henry shakes packages and Emma and Bae give each other playful shoves and kisses.
Of course Christmas never was quite like that. It's just how Rumplestiltskin would have had it, if magic were enough to make people behave the way they should and make life go the way it ought. They did have one sort-of-family Christmas, last year. All right, it was awkward as hell, sitting across the dinner table from HIM, HIM when it should have been Bae, and HIM pawing Emma throughout the evening while Belle tried to make little distracting jokes and Snow kept passing bowls and platters around as her own attempts to break the tension. But at least Charming did sneak peeks at some sort of sports thing and Henry did shake the packages.
The boy also spent a lot of time chatting with Grandpa Gold and Belle; they'd become comfortable with other over the past year, gradually bonding, first by means of their mutual grief, then, by a mutual intellectual curiosity about magic. Rumplestiltskin had taught many, but never one who approached magic as he has, as a scholar studying the earliest field of science. When Henry had started asking to borrow books about the history of magic, Rumple realized he'd found a student cut from the same mold as he. After that, their bond was solidified.
Henry's shown no Talent yet, but that doesn't mean magic won't emerge in him in the future; magic comes when it will, and after all, it's in his bloodline. But Henry has something else precious: a people sense that surpasses even his grandmother's. While Snow's is learned, his is instinctual, and Rumplestiltskin has been watching him surreptitiously for signs that he might be a latent Empath.
Rumplestiltskin's work with the boy must continue, for the boy's sake, so that he can find his potential; for the community's sake, because Henry is the next generation's leader. Yeah. Maybe if Rumple frames the argument that way, Emma will see the logic in ensuring that Henry and Grandpa Gold's relationship be allowed to continue, despite the changes in that are bound to come after Emma marries HIM. Yeah. Logic.
No. Because logic is just an excuse, and Emma can spot a lie when she sees one. Anyway, she deserves the truth, doesn't she? She was Bae's beloved. As the mother of Bae's child, she was Rumplestiltskin's daughter-in-heart, if not daughter-in-law.
No, he can't talk to Emma. He'd have to be emotionally honest with her, and hell, after a year of marriage, he's still struggling to open up to Belle.
Snow, then. He can approach her grandparent-to-grandparent, maybe frame the discussion as concern for their mutual well-being: "Aren't you a wee bit worried that after HE moves in, he'll push us out? Oh, maybe not intentionally, but as the new man in the house, he's going to try to play father to Henry, and you and David and Belle and I will just be in the way, maybe even a barrier to his attempt to bond with Henry. After all, we represent the past, and Baelfire. What new stepfather would want that competition? So, dearie, what are we going to do to ensure we continue to have a place in the lad's life?"
Yeah, Snow. And David too. Since Bae died, David's stepped up his involvement in Henry's life; even with a baby to care for, he's done his best to fill the role of a father for Henry, playing with him, teaching him, disciplining him. Yeah, David needs to be forewarned that after this marriage, he's going to be supplanted. No new stepfather will tolerate such interference.
Rumplestiltskin chuckles at the image of a mottle-faced David going to emotional war against HIM. How long will that marriage last then? Mess with David and Snow's relationship with Henry—or Emma—and HE will be out on his leather-covered ass in a New York minute.
Papa, you coward.
Sometimes out of the blue, Rumplestiltskin hears Bae's voice. And why shouldn't he: he literally lived with it in his head for a full year. Yeah, this is exactly what Bae would say right about now: Papa, you coward. You're looking for the easy way out.
I really need the strength to. . . be that man I should be, the man you died for, and I pledge, Baelfire, I will be that man.He can't break another promise to Bae. He'll do what he should, make Bae proud—because he's certain in the depths of his soul he will see Bae again (and have to answer to him for all he's done with the life that Bae gave him).
He resumes pacing his garden, planning what to say and when.
He Who Should Not Be Named has changed, of course; it's been three years since his arrival in Storybooke, and though it was a struggle, he's assimilated. The Charmings claim—and Henry verifies—that the outside changes are mirrored on the inside: HE is a kinder, gentler pirate. Rumple snorts. A hero may go to the Dark side, but a villain never changes. Much. Well, unless he has Belle or she has Robin. Anyway, HE's still a pirate; HE just steals a different sort of treasure now: people's grandsons.
HE is walking across the parking lot from the cannery in which he now works. Rumplestiltskin emerges in a puff of purple smoke—the smoke isn't necessary; it's just for show—and leans against HIS black Trans Am, as if he owns it (and in a way, Rumple does: he owns the bank that holds the lien on this car). Just to remind HIM of that little fact, Rumplestiltskin runs an inspecting finger across the car door and clicks his tongue. "Really, pirate, you should take better care of your things—particularly when they aren't yours yet!"
"What do you want?" HIS voice is tired and HE smells of the fish that HE spends eight hours a day gutting. HE hates the job, Henry says, considers it demeaning as well as exhausting, but it pays well and HE can't exactly practice HIS profession any more. HE's working toward something better, Henry says; HE's taking GED classes. When Rumplestiltskin heard that, a glimmer of an unfamiliar feeling flashed in his heart—respect—but it faded just as quickly. "If you came here just to tag my car"—HE points to the "wash me!" command Rumplestiltskin has etched into the dust of the hood—"you've done it, so you can poof on out of here, Gold."
HE calls Rumplestiltskin "Gold" these days, presumably because Emma does, but Rumple thinks it's a sly dig (he's not sure exactly how, but if HE's doing it, it must be with nasty intentions).
Papa, you coward. Hanging onto an anger that died centuries ago, because to let go of it, he'd have to face it; and to face it, he'd have to admit the anger never really came from jealousy over Milah; it came from his fear and hatred of bullies. The pirate didn't take Milah from Rumple; despite her marriage vow, she was never really Rumple's. In the beginning of their relationship she had taken his side (he thought), but after he'd maimed himself, she turned on him, became just another bully. Had he found an ounce of courage, he would have thrown a pack over his shoulder, gathered the baby in his arms and walked out on her, but he thought he needed her, so he took her insults, her philandering, and when she left he and Bae were relieved.
But when he came into power, he got even. And when he sliced off the pirate's hand, it wasn't an act of jealousy or even possessiveness, it was a strike against a man who'd humiliated him. It was a demonstration that a new, more powerful bully strode the block.
And then the damned pirate had the temerity to walk onto Rumple's block once again, to threaten Rumple's beloved, and now to challenge Rumple's relationship with Henry. Oh, the Charmings say HE's changed. Belle says she's forgiven HIM, though she won't trust HIM. Rumple would send HIM though a portal right back to Wonderland, if he dared, but Emma would find out he'd done it and she'd take Henry away from him. There's only one way to approach this: Bae's way.
Don't let me go again, Papa. Hang onto Henry so you can hang onto me.
So he listens to his son for a change. He sucks it up: his wounded pride, his fear, his need to be cock of the walk. He focuses on his need to keep his grandson in his life.
And he does the bravest thing he's ever done: he lets it all go.
He lifts away from the car and looks the pirate in the eye. "I came to talk to you about Henry."
"What about him?" HE is suspicious.
"Now that you'll be his stepfather, you'll have. . .a level of authority over him. He'll obey you, out of his love for Emma." Rumple speaks slowly; he has to fight his instincts to get the words out. "And Emma will consider your advice, because of her. . . love for you."
"What are you getting at?"
Rumplestiltskin clears his throat. "I'd like to talk about my future place in Henry's life."
"I see." HE visibly relaxes.
"Might I buy you a beer, Jones?"
Hook blinks. "You've never called me by name before."
"You've never been my grandson's stepfather before."
Hook motions to the Trans Am. "Get in."
Your heroism will show me the way. I promise I'll spend my life repaying you for that.