The vial lay cool and heavy in his hand, the swirling potion created from true love shining as bright as the day he first concocted it. He lifted it up to the light. It was mesmerizing; he couldn't believe how close he was getting to finally accomplishing his goal. All the careful planning and manipulating of circumstances was finally coming to fruition. Once he found Bae, he was certain that everything would finally turn out right. Bae had always been a kind boy, forgiving of his father. He prayed that the boy would not have changed much. The pain from that lying puppet's deception still burned deep in his heart, and he sincerely hoped that the real reunion would not be so disappointing.

The bell on the front door announced the arrival of a customer. Anxiously, he shoved the vial into his pocket and picked up its golden case, closing it with a snap and burying it in a small wooden chest behind him. He could not risk something happening before he had a chance to complete the next step.

At the sound of a soft voice behind him, he leaned against the table, calming himself quickly so as not to appear guilty. He almost missed what was said.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Gold?"

"Yes, I am," he replied, hearing the irritation in his own voice. "But I'm afraid the shop is closed—" As he turned, he saw who had entered his shop and froze. He was struck speechless by shock, disbelief, and a sudden burst of tangled emotions that he couldn't unravel.

That face, those eyes, the curls in her chestnut hair, now disheveled and unkempt...he had dreamed of her many times but had never, never expected to see her standing before him again. The curse couldn't bring back the dead! He knew it was powerful, but it couldn't be that powerful. No magic could bring the dead to life.

"I was, uh," she began, clearly nervous and confused. "I was told to, to find you and tell you that Regina locked me up." He stared, still unbelieving, feeling as if his breath had been knocked out of him. Gripping his cane tightly, he moved forward with slow, labored steps, never taking his eyes off her as if afraid she might disappear if he so much as blinked. "Does that mean anything to you?" she asked uncertainly.

When he was just a couple feet away, he hesitated. Then he reached out for her. His mind still refused to accept that this was actually happening, that if he touched her he would find that this was just a fantasy. His hand brushed the fur on her jacket, and he could feel her shoulder underneath. "You're real," he breathed, suddenly grateful for the support of his cane. "You're alive!" She looked at him oddly, still tense and wary. "She did this to you?" he repeated, feeling the flickering fury inside him flare up to a blaze. So that was what she had up her sleeve...?!

"I was told you would protect me." As she gazed at him, he realized that she was trembling slightly. What had Regina done to her? What had his Belle had to face all alone, not just in the land that was but also here in Storybrooke for the past 28 years—right under his nose?

"Oh yes!" He quickly closed the gap between them, pulling her into a tight embrace, his heart shattering. There was no hiding the emotion in his voice—not that he wanted to. "Yes, I'll protect you!" He vowed to himself in that moment that he would never allow Belle to fall into Regina's hands again, whatever it would take.

Belle hugged him back awkwardly, but then she pushed away. "I'm sorry, do I...do I know you?"

Of course she wouldn't remember him. Until Emma did her job in breaking the curse, he was just another stranger to Belle. He didn't think it would hurt this much, but he pushed that feeling aside. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "But you will."