A/N: Okay, so this is just a little bit I came up with today and started scribbling it down. It actually became something, and I'm really happy with how it turned out.
Basically, the story takes place right after Skin Deep. Hopefully most of you Oncers out there have watched this episode..and if you haven't-shame on you! LOL But seriously, Skin Deep is the single best episode of OUAT. So watch it!
I hope you enjoy my story, and please, let me know what you think! Thanks!
Mr. Gold limped home slowly. He had just been released from the Storybrooke jail after his recent run-in with Moe French.
He passed by several children playing in the street. One child caught his attention. Her golden curls danced around her shoulders gaily as she skipped down the street in her little blue dress. A lump gathered in Gold's throat. He swallowed roughly. For a second there, he could have sworn it was Belle.
Ah, Belle. If he listened hard enough, he could still hear her laughter. Sometimes it was as if she had never left his side…
His free hand slipped into his pocket. Fingers clenched tightly around a small teacup, checking to make sure it was safe. After what Her Majesty had put him through, he vowed the little cup would stay close by him from now on.
"Hello, Mr. Gold!" a cheerful voice said beside him. Gold glanced down. It was Henry Mills, the little would-be prince. He was surprised. Henry typically kept his distance from Gold.
"Hello, Henry." Gold said, still walking home. He attempted to increase his pace, hoping to lose the prince, but his leg began to ache, slowing him down. He could use that disappearing spell he was so fond of right about now.
Henry kept walking with him. "What did the Evil Queen want from you?" Gold gritted his teeth. Normally, he'd be pleased by the boy's limited knowledge of the Fairytale Land Gold once inhabited, but not today.
Gold sighed. "She came to see me about a deal she wanted to make with me. That's the only reason people come to see me, you know."
Henry looked up at Gold and crinkled his nose. "What kind of deal?"
A shadow came across Gold's face as he said darkly, "She had something of mine that I wanted back."
Gold had to admire the prince for continuing to follow him after hearing the venom in his tone.
"Is that what you're holding in your pocket?" Henry asked.
Gold glanced at him, and stopped. They had reached the sidewalk in front of his grand Victorian house. He clasped the cup in his pocket even tighter. His index finger slid down one of the jagged sides of the chip on the cup. His hand jerked slightly as he felt the skin tear on his finger.
He didn't feel like talking to the prince, but he felt he should oblige him. One day the boy would rule the kingdom. But the pain he felt in his heart right now was much like the pain of his finger; his heart was once again ripping in two.
"As a matter of fact, dearie, it is." he said softly.
"It's the cup, isn't it?"
Gold started, then tried to look nonchalant, and didn't quite succeed. "How do you know about the cup?"
"I dropped something right outside the door, and I stopped to pick it up. I heard you and the Queen talking."
Gold raised one eyebrow. "What did you hear?"
"Not much…Rumpelstiltskin."
Gold lifted the corners of his mouth up in a slight smile despite himself. "So…you know."
Henry bobbed his head vigorously up and down.
"Ah. I see." Gold limped up to his house, with Henry tagging along behind. He pulled the cup out of his pocket and sat down on the front steps, propping his cane between his legs. Henry sat down beside him.
Henry peered over curiously. "That's the cup?"
Gold nodded slightly, lost in thought. He twirled the cup slowly in his hands, tracing the lines of the cup that he had memorized in the long years since he had sent his beloved from him.
He could replay the scene in his mind like it had happened just yesterday. He could feel Belle's lips on his, and feel her eagerness to "help" him. He remembered his anger, suspecting a plot against him by Her Majesty.
His eyes grew moist as he recalled how wrongly he treated her. His hateful words rang in his ears. His heart ached. He had sent his beloved to her death. It was his fault. His.
Gold whispered in a voice full of bitter regret and sadness, "Aye. 'Tis just a cup."
Henry shook his head. "I don't believe that. If it was just a cup, you wouldn't have traded your name for it."
The prince put his small, smooth hand on top of Gold's larger, rough hands. He spoke softly, almost a whisper. "It wasn't your fault, you know."
Gold scrambled up from the porch steps, almost dropping the cup in the process. His face was twisted in agony. "No." he said, his voice shaking with emotion. He pointed his index finger at him. "No. It was my fault. I sent her away. I left her homeless. It was I who sent her to her death. Me!" His voice cracked.
He turned around and went inside his house, shutting the door behind him, and leaving a sympathetic Henry outside. He stumbled across the room, barely able to see past the images of the past to make it to his favorite chair.
He sat there, in a daze. For how long, he was unsure. The clock on the wall ticked away the time. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Your. Fault. Your. Fault. It taunted him mercilessly.
He slumped back down in his chair and went back to cradling his cup. It was all he had left of her, besides his memories. He remembered the day she had chipped it. He had teased her, and she had thought him serious. She had made such a fuss over the little chip. "It's just a cup" he had told her, in an attempt to reassure her.
He bowed his head, then stood up. He crossed the room to the fireplace. He held the cup a moment longer, then placed it on the mantle. He gave it one last look, then turned away. "It's more than just a cup", he whispered to the empty room and his empty heart.