ATTENTION READERS! THIS IS WILL BE A REALLY LONG AUTHORS NOTE. IF YOU READ MY OTHER STORY PLEASE READ THE FIRST PART OF THE NOTE. IF NOT YOU CAN SKIP THE FIRST PART, BUT I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING THE SECOND.

AN1: First I'd just like to say how incredibly sorry I am for not updating. I'm not trying to make excuses, but I'd still like to explain. I had a few health and family situations arise so I had very little time or energy. When I finally did have the time I found myself stuck in a major writer's block. I hope to finish someday but I still haven't been able to get my motivation back for that story. I'm hoping that by getting my creative juices flowing I'll be able to go back to it someday. Again I'm really sorry. If you haven't noticed already, this isn't a Glee story but a Once Upon A Time story. If you gleeks watch OUAT, awesome! Read on. If not, I still encourage you to read this, but you'll probably be extremely confused. And I'm not really going to try to explain it, because explaining OUAT to a non-oncer is like explaining trigonometry to a five year old. I'm not saying you're stupid. It's just that confusing.

AN2: This is my first OUAT fic and my first in about a year. I appreciate constructive criticism but I will not accept bullying. This story is canon up until 4x12. After that it goes really AU. The Queens' of Darkness are in this story but it won't follow everything (maybe even nothing) that's happening in the show. I'm warning you now, some of it may not make a whole lot of sense until later. That was on purpose. I apologize if any characters are OOC. I hope you enjoy. Please tell me what you think.

WARNING: There are some graphic descriptions of violence and gore. (Relating to warfare)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own OUAT.

Much of life lies not in areas of white or black, but in the shades of grey in between. And though honesty may be golden, somethings are better left unsaid. Sometimes lies are told and truths are withheld not with a malicious intent to deceive, but with a pure desire to protect. And while the demons of the past may lay buried deep within their ancient tombs, the sole custodians of their secrets; whispers of events long ago occurred often find their way to the surface. So that even if the happenings of the past remain blurred with time and distorted by the tales of victors... the truth of the past is never really forgotten...

A long time ago in the Northern Mountains

The sounds of clanging metal and piercing screams penetrate the air as he storms into the wall of steel covered flesh. Rapid swings of his sword have proved ineffective against the dark armor that adorns the soldiers so determined to defend their mountain. So with a hoarse cry he gives up his ingrained training of grace and elegance and hammers his blade onto an outstretched arm. As it connects he hears the ringing clash of metal and the sickening crack of bone breaking. Shaking off the wave of nausea that follows, he takes advantage of the knight's distracting pain and thrusts his sword into the gap between his breast and shoulder plates. Crimson blood gushes from the fatal wound as he falls only to be replaced with another.

Time is running out. They need to break through their front lines before it's too late. He has to get through. Many are dying or already dead. They're losing men faster than they can be replaced. The land surrounding him is strewn with the remains of the dead and maimed; friend and foe alike. So much blood has been spilled and most likely even more will continue to be spilled. So many lives lost for this retched war. However, none of those sacrifices will matter if they don't succeed. Because they must succeed. Stopping the curse is the most important thing. If they fail, all will be lost.

A sudden whack to his helmet covered head sends him reeling face first to the ground. Disoriented, he reaches blindly for his dislodged sword; grabbing fistfuls of gritty soil and slippery intestines until he hits the metal of his blade. As his hand finally finds purchase on the hilt, he becomes aware of the warrior hovering above him. But it's the shout of his name bellowing from his wife's lips that alert him to the presence and not his shadow. For there is no shadow. He rolls swiftly onto his back in time to watch an arrow lodge in the man's throat with a spray of blood. Before the dying soldier can even collapse in a fit of gurgling squelches, he's up, on his feet, and reaching for his wife's hand.

"We have to break through!" he yells.

"No! We must save our strength for the General!" she screams back refusing his proffered hand in favor of slashing one of the enemy across the face; her blade taking his nose with it.

"There isn't any more time! If we don't we'll never even face the General!" His eyes shine with his unspoken plea. She knows he's right. She knows that the clock is running out and this is their only option. She just wishes that it wasn't, because she's certain that even now with their energy fully charged that they're still no match for him.

With a final terminal stab to her opponent's side, she slides her hand into his. As soon as their hands clasp together a bright white light blasts forth knocking most of the enemy off their feet. They rush forward before the light has the chance to dissipate. Slashing any who try to stand, they sprint to the top of the rigid just as a black mist begins to rise out a caldron.

"No…" he murmurs in a breathy exhale falling to his knees as he observes the obsidian colored smoke.

"We're too late. We failed." She says softly, her sword dropping with a slight clank. Her husband's gaze falls to the grey dirt as his shoulders hunch in on themselves. "We're all doomed. Nothing can stop him now." She continues, her voice dipping low in defeat and the seconds tick by. Neither can hear through their grief, the sounds of the battle still raging on behind them.

"No…We can't stop it." His voice wavers then hardens with determination, but as he raises his head she spots the tears trickling down his cheeks. "But maybe…maybe we can change it. Maybe we can take away the hate."

"How?" she whispers.

"Through love." He states simply.

"We don't have enough power to defeat something as evil as this. Not without time." She reasons, not understanding. Shaking his head, he rises and strides toward where she stands beside the caldron.

"Not with our power…" he places her trembling hand upon his chest "with our love." Eyes widening in comprehension, she grasps his hand to place it upon her own chest. "And what is the greatest symbol of our love?" Tears stream down both faces now.

"What if it doesn't work?" she cries. "I can't kill you knowing that this may fail, that your death may be unnecessary."

"We lose each other either way. The curse will separate us just as death will." His other hand rises to cradle her cheek.

"At least I'd know that you were alive." She mimics his movement to hold his face in her own palm.

"I'd rather die than live without you." His voice is unsteady but his words hold an undeniable conviction.

"Take my heart." His mouth opens in protest but she continues speaking. "Take my heart, and I'll take yours. We'll do this like we do everything in life."

"Together." He says.

"Together." She affirms. With twin sobs they thrust a hand into one another's chest to pull their hearts out.

"I love you." He whispers to her as he pushes back an errant curl.

"And I love you." She responds while caressing his stubble ridden jaw.

Moving forward they met for one last kiss, chaste and bittersweet in taste. And together with lips joined they raised their hands. Together they crush their hearts. Together they fall.

The black mist turns gray as it spreads over their bodies and covers the land.

Present Day Storybrooke

"Are you sure we can trust him?" Cruella questions as her and Ursula step toward the town line. The sun has nearly set and they can see Rumpelstiltskin hovering in the shadows nearby. He's leaning heavily upon his cane looking rather frail out in the world without magic. It's a sight that Cruella de Vil still finds quite shocking. To see such a powerful man stripped down to nothing more than a crippled coward is frankly…unsettling. Promising a happy ending is one thing when you have all the power and control. It's another when you've obviously hit rock bottom. And if the Dark One himself couldn't create his own happy ending how is he supposed to help them get theirs? Becoming a team might increase their chances, but she's still wary of whether this will actually work.

"We don't have to trust him. In fact we shouldn't after the last time. But he is a vital asset to have. Not only does he have the knowledge of how to find this author, but he knows the people in this town far better than us." Ursula reassures pulling the Snow Queen's scroll from her coat pocket.

"I still don't like this. He betrayed us before, he could do it again. He claims that this time is different. I'm not so positive it is. After all, not everyone is capable of change." Cruella points out and Ursula lets out a huff.

"We can revisit ditching him after we get Mal back. Besides, she's always been more adept than us at dealing with Rumpelstiltskin. She'll know what to do."

"Fine. But if this all crashes and burns, I'm blaming you." Cruella states.

"Go right ahead." She concedes before tossing the scroll over the orange line. The invisible barrier shimmers as it passes through. When the scroll thumps onto the concrete Rumple startles before dropping to the ground, scrambling to pick it up. Once it's in his grasp, he heaves himself back onto his feet and hobbles forward. His grimy clothes are replaced and his limp disappears as soon as he passes across the barrier. He's back to looking like the old Rumpelstiltskin, minus the green scales, in seconds.

"Rumple, nice to see looking so… not rumpled." Cruella barbs. He flashes them a disdainful sneer.

"Humorous. Now shall we get on with it or is there an entire comedy routine planned for my return?" he throws back already irritated by his accomplices. Letting out a sigh Ursula steps in.

"We upheld our end. You're in Storybrooke. Now what's the plan? Regina may have let us in, but that doesn't mean they trust us. And we can't very well go wandering around town with you in tow."

"I have a cabin a mile or so away from town. It's secluded. We won't be found. We'll stay there for the time being. Tomorrow we'll go visit our dear friend Maleficent. See if the dragon is ready to be let out of her cage. Then together, we get our happy endings. No matter who gets in our way." He explains, his gestures missing the theatrical flourishes he once loved to use so much. His posture is no longer playful but rigid. The two women share a look before head back toward the car. The Rumpelstiltskin of old was dangerous, but this Rumple might be even worse. Sometimes sanity can be just as unpredictable as insanity.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm sorry that it was so short. My chapters tend to be shorter in the begining and get longer the more I write. I know that there weren't very many of the characters in this chapter. Don't worry, you'll see more in the next one. Please review and tell me what you think. ~Shadow Dogma