Neal awoke to the sound of the clock tower, alerting the people of Storybrooke. He rousted himself out of bed, the remnants of his dream slipping away, yawning tiredly. Hadn't Henry mentioned that the clock tower had stopped working? Because of the curse? If so, the clock's jovial chimes seemed promising.
Throwing on a pair of jeans and a charcoal button-down, he blearily exited his room in search of coffee. He headed down the steps towards the diner, walking through the door. He got a few stares as he took a seat at a booth—apparently strangers in Storybrooke were not common place. It made him uncomfortable, as he'd gained a certain comfort in being anonymous, and the last thing he needed was unwarranted attention—particularly given his past.
"What can I get you?" The young waitress—he forgot her name—smiled at her charmingly. She was pretty, with dark hair and a bright smile, showing as much skin as her uniform allowed.
"Coffee," Neal affirmed. "And I guess—bacon and eggs. Hashbrowns on the side."
The waitress jotted his order down. "Very traditional. Classic looks good on you." She winked at him before skipping back to the kitchen and Neal blinked in response.
"Hey, Dad!"
"Henry!" Neal said in surprise as his son strolled inside, taking a seat in front of him. "What's up, man?"
"Not much, aside from my mom being crabby," Henry reported. "Is Emma here yet?"
Neal shook his head. "Think she's still asleep. I dunno, her room's not near mine," He eyed something in Henry's hands. "What do you have, there?"
"Sidney Glass did an article on Emma," Henry placed the newspaper neatly in front of him. "Not a lot about you, though…just a few lines…"
Neal skimmed it, caught the word 'deadbeat', and frowned. So that was how Regina wanted to play it. Fine with him.
"Everything's going according to plan," Henry said eagerly. "She's staying! With a little help, she'll be able to break the curse in no time!"
Neal sighed. "Curses usually aren't that easy, Henry," He said honestly. "They're incredibly complex to make and even harder to cast—especially one as big as this one. Breaking it will require the same kinda cost. All magic comes with a price you know, even good magic."
Henry drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully. "But she's the Savior. It's what she was meant for!"
"And it's gonna take a lot of convincing for her to believe," Neal told him.
"But she stayed!" Henry protested. "Why else would she have stayed if she didn't believe?"
Neal opened his mouth to answer but was briefly interrupted by the waitress setting down his food. Henry helped himself to a strip of bacon and asked for the waitress—named Ruby, apparently—to bring him a hot chocolate with cinnamon.
"Look, there's Emma!" Henry whispered, noticing her enter the room. Emma took a seat at the counter, her brow furrowing as she picked up the newspaper.
"Ruby, can you send Emma a hot chocolate with cinnamon too?" Henry requested and Ruby winked at him in assent. They watched as Emma looked up in surprise at the drink and promptly stood, confronting the sheriff in one of the booths.
"Ha, she thinks Graham sent it," Henry laughed. "Why would she think that?"
Neal watched the two of them, something sinking in his gut. There was a definite air of flirtation between them.
"I didn't send it," Graham told her, looking a little amused.
"I did!" Henry volunteered. "I like cinnamon too."
Emma looked at him bemused. "Don't you have school?" She glanced at Neal who shrugged in response.
"Duh," Henry grinned. "I'm ten. Walk me." He hopped away from the booth, stealing one more strip of bacon off Neal's plate.
"See ya later, Dad," He whispered loudly. "Operation Cobra is a go!" He strolled out the door with Emma in tow and Neal smiled in spite of himself. Operation Cobra? What did that have to do with fairytales?
He stretched a little, continuing his breakfast, watching Emma and Henry walk down the street towards the bus stop. Emma would be a tough nut to crack, but Henry was growing on her. Henry was quickly becoming a priority in her life and he'd already climbed to the top of Neal's list.
His brow furrowed. It just figured that the only person who would be able to offer him legal help was Rumplestiltskin. The very thought of asking advice from his father, alone and aloof in that cold pawnshop, made his skin crawl. A part of him was still urging him to flee Storybrooke, to forget this entire mess of magic, never mind his fervent desire to make things right with Emma.
But Henry. Henry needed him. Henry was his son and by the looks of things, Henry had no one else to rely on. Everyone was under Regina's control.
Neal needed allies. And unfortunately, the only ally he could think that might be willing to help was his…was the pawnbroker.
With a sigh, he finished his meal, paid his bill, and walked out the door.
XXXX
Mr. Gold was assisting a nun who looked extremely displeased to be in his shop. Neal watched her give him a wad of cash with her lips pressed tightly together and stride out the door.
Gold looked his way to welcome and Neal watched him noticeably stiffen.
Something had changed. The cool look of blankness was gone—his expression was still calculating, still methodical, but something had shifted in Rumplestiltskin. As if—
No. Neal was imagining things.
"We meet again," Mr. Gold said softly, tapping his fingers on his cane. Neal swallowed hard.
"Yeah," He cleared his throat. "I changed my mind. I wanted to talk to you about—about my legal rights. With Henry."
The silence was unnerving. Neal felt as though he were being scrutinized, as if he was being placed under a magnifying glass. He repeatedly reminded himself that Gold had no idea who he was.
"Well," Gold broke the quiet. "I'm sorry to tell you, there aren't a lot of options for you."
Neal's heart sank. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that unmarried fathers have very little say in these types of cases," Gold explained smoothly, picking up a chipped teacup, beginning to polish it. "So if Miss Swan intends on reclaiming custody—"
"She's not here for that," Neal replied impatiently. "But I am. I didn't even know I had a kid till about 48 hours ago. Doesn't that make a difference?"
"Unfortunately not," Gold replied, his eyes narrowing a bit. "The court doesn't care if you weren't aware of her pregnancy at the time. They will cite your leaving her as willful abandonment of her and the child."
Neal winced at the word 'abandonment'. To his surprise, Gold seemed a little…tense with the conversation as well. As if he found Neal's lack of options personally bothersome.
"So what can I do?" Neal asked him.
"Depends on how badly you want your son," Gold's tone lowered a little. "What extremes you'd take to be with him."
Neal frowned at him. "I'd do anything," He said firmly.
"That's what I like to hear," Gold said softly. "All right. Why don't you join me in the back? We can discuss further." He gestured for Neal to follow him.
The back of Gold's shop was even more cluttered, if it was possible. Neal took a seat across from a small coffee table, noticing uncomfortably that an old-fashioned spinning wheel was in the corner. Gold took a seat as well.
"Now—to build our case," His voice was still soft, muted. Nothing like the theatrical Rumplestiltskin, who loved a flashy show.
"Yeah?" Neal cleared his throat.
"There have been cases that relied on federal protection for Native American children separated from their biological families. Do you have any native blood?" Gold's voice was mild but Neal saw the probing in his gaze.
He shook his head. "No, I don't. Emma doesn't either, our families are…recent immigrants."
For a long time, Gold observed him, as if waiting for Neal to reveal more. But Neal Cassidy hadn't lived this long to throw caution to the wind. Even under the curse, this was still Rumplestiltskin. All magic came with a price, all deals with Rumplestiltskin came with a price, and Neal was not willing to pay it.
"Very well," Gold said finally, a bit of a sigh in his voice. "The only other avenue to explore is to prove that Regina is an unfit parent. If you can prove that, you may be able to gain custody of the lad as a foster parent and eventually adopt him."
Something lurched inside Neal. There was no question in Neal's mind that he wanted to get Henry away from Regina, that he wanted to ensure Henry's safety and welfare, and if that meant adopting him…still. He couldn't deny it, there was a part of Neal that feared this onslaught of responsibility. Would he be any good at being a full-time father? He had Rumplestiltskin's blood…perhaps he had the same cowardice, the same darkness…
His phone buzzed and Neal stood, answering it. "Hello?"
"Hey Dad!" Henry's voice chirped on the other line. "Whatcha doing?"
Neal glanced at Mr. Gold. "Nothing, kid, just some…family business."
"Cool," Henry replied. "Just wanted to let you know that Regina arrested Emma but it's okay 'cause Mary Margaret's gonna bail her out. We're on our way to the station now!"
"She did what?!" Neal said incredulously. "Okay. I'll be there soon." He shut off his phone and turned towards Gold.
"That woman is a piece of work," He muttered. "All right. I'll be in touch." Gold nodded towards him, still in that disconcerting, scrutinizing way and Neal left the back of the shop.
XXXX
By the time Neal reached the sheriff's office, Emma had been bailed out. He ruffled Henry's hair affectionately before storming into the office, where Sheriff Graham was sipping a cup of coffee.
"Why was Emma arrested?" He demanded by way of greeting.
Graham sighed, rubbing his temples slightly. "Archie Hopper called it in. He said they'd had a bit of a row and she demanded Henry's files."
"Oh, come on, you don't believe that," Neal said in disgust.
"You're right, I don't," Graham said rather sourly and Neal blinked in surprise.
"Then—why did you arrest her?" Neal crossed his arms.
"Didn't really have much of a choice when it's Archie's word against hers," Graham replied. "Particularly when the mayor is backing him."
"Jesus," Neal ran his fingers through his hair distractedly. Before he could respond, Graham's phone rang.
"Yes?" Graham answered, listening. His brows pinched together. "All right. I'll be there soon." He hung up and sighed.
"What's up?" Neal asked, noting the expression.
"Emma. Apparently she took it upon herself to maul Regina's favorite apple tree with a chainsaw," Graham smothered a grin and Neal felt a burst of affection for both Emma and Graham.
"Yeah, that sounds like Emma," Neal smirked. "You gonna arrest her again?"
"I'm going to try and talk Regina out of that, as it won't do much good," Graham stood, grabbing his jacket. "Look, Neal. I know it's not my place and I know Regina signs my paychecks, but the fact is, if this escalates further—the only one who gets hurt will be—"
"Henry," Neal nodded in agreement. "You're right. I'm sure Emma knows you're right."
The two men looked at each other and Neal felt an air of understanding pass through them both. In a strange way, Graham was a kindred spirit. He thought of Graham and Emma laughing together that morning and shifted uncomfortably.
"I'll be back," Graham went towards the door. "Just—help me play mediator, will you?"
Neal snorted. "Emma and I aren't exactly friendly. You'll have better luck with that than me." Graham nodded at that response and Neal's throat lurched as the sheriff exited the room.
XXXX
There was a loud knock on Neal's door.
Pushing aside his second cheeseburger, Neal hauled himself off the couch and went to the door. When he opened it, his heart stopped. Henry was standing there, crying.
"Whoa, kid! What's the matter?" Neal ushered his son inside.
Henry wiped his eyes. "It's stupid. The whole thing is stupid. She doesn't believe me, she thinks I'm crazy!"
"Hey, hey," Neal placed his hands on Henry's shoulders. "What happened?"
"She was talking to my mom—I have dinner with my mom on Thursdays before I talk to Archie—and Emma said I was crazy!" His eyes filled with tears.
Neal hugged him warmly. Henry burrowed his head into Neal's chest and he gently stroked his hair. He was almost sure of it, positive that Regina had somehow orchestrated this little setup and it disgusted him. She really didn't care how she got them out of town, even if it broke Henry's heart.
"It's all right, Henry," He said gently. "It's gonna be okay."
"But she doesn't believe me!"
"I believe you," Neal said firmly. "And we're gonna figure this out."
Henry looked at him miserably. "How do I know? What if you're just pretending like Emma is?"
Neal sighed. "Okay. Here's the truth, Henry. I told you that I believed you because I was in that book, because I was from that land. That's still the truth."
Henry watched him reproachfully.
"My name—" Neal took a deep breath. "My name is Baelfire."
The name felt strange on his tongue due to lack of use. But Henry's eyes widened in recognition. He knew that name, knew that Neal hadn't had time to read the book all the way through—he wasn't making it up. Neal believed in him and that meant everything to Henry.
"I gotta go," Henry glanced at the time. "I'm late for my meeting with Archie."
"Okay," Neal gave him another hug. "Cut Emma some slack. She won't let you down, I promise." Henry's face darkened at the mention of Emma but he left the hotel room peaceably.
Neal collapsed onto the couch exhausted. Regina was going to make this as difficult as possible, for all of them. He'd made a shaky ally with the cursed version of Rumplestiltskin—time would tell if that was a fatal mistake. In this world, Rumplestiltskin was cursed, cursed to be Mr. Gold, but something about him had shifted today, as if—as if—
As if he were more self-aware.
What would happen? What would happen if Rumplestiltskin realized who he was? Would he recognize Neal?
Distractedly, he paced the room, idly looking out the window. He saw something shift in the forest, something that looked like a large animal—maybe a stray dog—and tapped his fingers on the windowsill.
Had Neal procured a room with a town view, he would've seen Mr. Gold striding down the street, headed for Regina Mills' home. He would've seen the quiet pawnbroker pause briefly in front of Granny's inn, staring up at the windows, before continuing on his way.
