d'Artagnan thought that the rest of Rumplestiltskin's birthday was going great. Some pickpocketed fruit and a puppet show and the boy was all smiles. They even stopped by The Farm to say hello to the animals. The Farmer gave Rumplestiltskin two silver pieces.

"Now, you try to save those for something worthwhile, ya hear?"

"Yes, sir!" Rumplestiltskin replied gleefully.

The Farmer was the best man d'Artagnan knew. He paid her to help feed the animals and had taught her to sew. d'Artagnan had often thought of her and her brother running away to live on The Farm and be with the horses and pigs and sheep all day long. But, Stiltskin would miss his father too much.

d'Artagnan didn't think of her own father much. She used to make the mistake of calling Malcolm "Papa" when she was first learning to talk, but some blood-drawing pinches stopped that as soon as it began.

d'Artagnan and Rumplestiltskin said their goodbyes to The Farmer and his animals and hurried back to the cottage. d'Artagnan was surprised to see the cottage in decent shape. Malcolm was nowhere to be seen.

"Stiltskin, hide your coins."

"Why?"

"Just do it," d'Artagnan replied curtly. Malcolm wasn't above taking any money he could find. That's why d'Artagnan hid her money in the box under her bed. He wouldn't come near her things for fear of being cursed.

Malcolm burst in with loaves of bread and wheels of cheese.

"There he is! My birthday man." Malcolm seemed to have sobered up, but his eyes were still a little glazed. "How was your day, dearie?"

"Oh Papa, it was wonderful! The puppet show was so funny and the horses ate out of my hand! It tickled, but I didn't mind."

"Well, it seems like you had a great time. And what about you, demon? Did you get into trouble?" Malcolm's change in tone stung. If d'Artagnan did run away, would her stepfather even notice?

"No, sir. I was good."

"Were you?"

"Yes, I promise." d'Artagnan hated when her questioned her like that. There were times when it didn't matter if she she was telling the truth or not (she always was), Malcolm would hit her. He thankfully decided to leave her alone this time.

"I have a present for you, Rumple." d'Artagnan hated that nickname for her brother. Rumplestiltskin didn't seem to mind. Malcolm set the food on the table and took a small box from his pocket. Rumplestiltskin's face lit up. d'Artagnan loved seeing him so happy.

The boy ripped open the box to reveal a thimble. It was so plain.

"I love it! What is it?"

"It's a kiss, dearie. Whenever I'm not with you, just look at your thimble and know it's a kiss from me." Malcolm could seem kind when he wanted to.

"I love it, Papa! Thank you." Rumplestiltskin hugged his father.

"Do you have a gift for me, d'Artagnan?"

"Of course I do, sweetheart. Let me get it." d'Artagnan scurried to her special box. When she opened the box, the doll was gone.

I don't understand. It was in here." d'Artagnan began to panic. No one knew about her box. Who could have stolen it? Her immediate assumption was that Malcolm had gotten into it, but the money was still there.

"You don't have a present for your brother?" Malcolm growled.

"I… I made one. I put it in here to keep it safe. Stiltskin, I swear I didn't forget."

"It's okay, d'Artagnan. I still had a great day."

Despite his best attempt to reassure her, Rumplestiltskin's face looked so dejected.

"It's not okay, Rumple. This is a special day." Malcolm stormed across the room and dragged d'Artagnan out the cottage's back door.

"Papa, don't!" Rumplestiltskin yelled as he followed his father.

"Stay inside, Rumple! You don't need to see this." Malcolm pushed his son inside and closed the door before the boy could react.

"Listen here, you little bitch," Malcolm quietly sneered. "I couldn't have you getting Rumple a present like that. Makes him think you care about him more than I do."

d'Artagnan quipped back, "I do care about him more."

"Shut up!" Malcolm rewarded her bravery with a slap to the face. "You don't understand how much he needs me," Malcolm continued. "You'll never be worth anything. You cursed your mother into leaving.

The insults continued, and so did the beatings.