Thanks so much for hanging in there during my slight slow-down. So homework's done. Brake's started. And the only homework I have to do over Thanksgiving is a two page paper on mind control in comics (Winter Soldier, of course). I will be showering plenty of love on you guys.
You guys enjoy.
P.S. to the guest reviewer who asked who Rue was, she's the blue fairy. Bae only knew her as Rue Gorum, so I kind of figure that's how he would refer to her.
Next chapter: Neal's conversation with a mother and the classic "what are your intentions towards my child" conversation takes on an interesting new twist...
"So Henry's your…" Bell began, and Neal could tell she was surprised. Perhaps she had thought he was lying when he told her earlier that reconnecting with Gold wasn't the reason for his pilgrimage here. Or perhaps she had just been hoping.
It was kind of pathetic that she was the only friend he had in this town, but that didn't change the fact that she was amazingly easy to confide in. a part of him whispered that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't the best person to be talking to…especially if he wanted a certain facet of his identity to stay under wraps. But then again, didn't she already know everything she needed to if she wanted to let that cat out of the bag? What was left for him to lose?
Neal looked down at the chessboard and considered his next move as he spoke. "Yeah. Now you understand why I hate all this so much. This curse…"
How much had this curse taken from him? A life with Emma. Henry's birth. His first words. His first steps. The right to be called 'papa.'
And the worst part was the fact that it was all supposed to be for him. Gold had ruined Neal's life and thought of it as a gift.
"Rumple's got a long way to go," she said, looking up from the board, "But that doesn't mean we should give up on him. Maybe if he knew—"
Neal just gave her a silent, harsh look and she got the message, her eyes returning to the board before she made her move.
"So how did you and Emma meet?"
Neal smiled. It was a welcome change of subject; something that he didn't mind talking about…that he didn't mind thinking about.
"She broke into a car and forgot to check the back seat," he chuckled. Neal hadn't been the one to get her into thievery—she had already walked far down that path—but he might have helped hone her skills. For all her talent she had forgotten the number one rule.
"She stole your car?"
"Well it wasn't really my car…" Belle looked a little confused so Neal explained a little further, not bothering to keep the sheepish tone out of his voice. "I had stolen it the day before."
"Oh."
Neal was glad for the lack of judgment in her voice. He wasn't ashamed of the life he led, but he still wanted Belle to like him. She was too big a part of his father's life and proof that, maybe just maybe, there was still something human deep within him. Or maybe Bell was just a naive child…not unlike Neal himself had been before news of the curse crashed what little bit of innocence had been left in his life.
"So that's why you took the axes," she said, "even though it meant bringing attention to yourself."
He nods.
"I just wanted to get her home," he looked up as he moved a piece, capturing her knight. Perhaps he was enjoying the atmosphere of honesty a bit too much—Belle was just too easy a person to talk to—or he probably would have never admitted the next truth.
"And I won't deny that I enjoyed the fight a bit."
It had been beyond cathartic to finally face his demons but that didn't mean he had exercised them.
Belle gave him this weird look—one he had never remembered directed at him—not unlike the harsh, warning looks he had seen TV moms give their teenagers. It was kind of surreal and yet not entirely unwelcomed.
"That's only going to hurt him later," she said, the scolding evident in her voice.
He shrugged. Really what else could he do? "We're going to have issues either way."
It may have been a harsh truth, but it was a truth none the less. Neal had given up on the impossible possibility of Gold never learning the truth. Too many people knew too much: David, Belle, Rue, August, and even Henry. Eventually someone was going to slip up and give the clever old bastard the one clue he needed to figure it all out—hell, it might even be Neal himself.
It was a matter of when not if but Neal couldn't help but pray that the big reveal could wait until after he got all this shit with Emma settled. He didn't think he could handle getting it from both sides at once.
Neal rubbed his hands over his upper arms, trying to warm them up.
"Are you cold?" Belle asked, noticing his actions.
"It's the middle of November in Maine and I'm walking around town half naked. Of course I'm cold," he said only slightly sarcastic, noticing that she has a heavy sweeter draped over her shoulders. She had to be cold too.
Her lips twitched into something of a smile. "The library's been shut up for so long and they haven't had a chance to get the heat working. I'll be right back."
She leaves and is back within moments holding the thick wool jacket to a man's suit and hands it to him.
"This should be about your size."
He looked at it and decided it was best not to ask what she was doing with the garment or how exactly it had come to her possession.
"It's his?"
She raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused. "You don't have to take it."
Debated whether or borrowing something from him was worth not freezing his ass off for a slit second before taking it.
As he pulled it on, he couldn't help but breath in the musky sent that sent his mind reeling into a time he had almost forgotten existed. A time when his papa was really his papa. A time when he would tuck Neal (or was it Bae? If that life was really so far that it seemed like the memories belonged to another person, shouldn't he refer to himself by his old name?) into bed and told him stories, complete with silly voices for all the characters. A time when he promised to keep the nightmares away rather than embodying them.
Instinctually he pulled the coat tighter across his chest, as if somehow he could wrap himself up In that memory just as easily as he could the cloth.
Belle noticed and he tried to play it off as if it was just because of the cold, but she wasn't fooled.
"What about you?" He asked in a rather transparent attempt to change the subject.
"What?" she asked.
"How did you two meet?"
She pressed her lips, clearly choosing her words carefully and Neal knew he probably wouldn't like the answer. That despite how well it seemed to turn out for them in the end, it was most likely the product of one of the Imp's many wrong-doings.
"Ogres were attacking my kingdom and I volunteered to go with him when he came to help."
Neal looked at her careful to hide his disbelief. You can't bullshit a bullshitter and he could see right through her feeble attempt at diplomacy.
"Volunteered or was that the price he asked?"
"I think he was lonely. I was supposed to be a house keeper," Neal's face tightened remembering what happened to the last one but he said nothing, "but he could have done that by magic. After I got to know him, that's when I fell in love."
Neal was silent for a moment, he knew Belle wasn't stupid and she wasn't completely naive, but the fact that she didn't see what was wrong with that picture was a little disturbing.
"They have a word for that here. They call it Stockholm." He was only half teasing her.
The bell wring and a little boy about Henry's age with dirty blond hair walked in. Gold followed close behind him but it was easy to see by their body language that they weren't there together.
The boy asked Belle for help finding a book and she got up and followed him.
"I'll look that up," she said just before disappearing into the other half of the library.
"You do that." Neal whispered. If it really was some form of Stockholm, she needed to know.
Gold came over to the table just as Neal got up to leave.
"Mr. Cassidy," he said, as both a greeting and a warning.
"Gold," Neal replied, his voice just as clipped. He wasn't going to let Gold know how much he frightened him. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of being the boogieman.
"That looks painful," Gold said, motioning to Neal's bandaged head with the handle of his cane. Neal shrugged, noticing that Gold's wound is gone. Probably due to magic.
"I've had worse."
"Let me give you a friendly bit of advice:" Gold said, his voice losing all pretext of civility, "stay away from Belle."
Neal snorts. "If she's not allowed to have friends outside of your permission, then she's little more than a possession."
Gold stared at him, measuring, but didn't reply. Was there really anything he could say?
Neal took two steps closer, closing the gap between them until their faces are mere inches from each other. It was kind of odd. In all of Neal's memories his papa had been bigger than him, something large and comforting, if not weak. Now he had a good two inches of height over the man, but that didn't help him stand his ground as much as Neal imagined it would.
In a lot of ways, he was still a scared little boy wanting his papa to protect him from all that went bump in the night. But now it was his papa that hid under the bed. Wasn't life a bitch?
"Now it's my turn to give you a friendly bit of advice," Neal hisses despite the little voice in the back of his mind reminding him of the terms of his and Belle's deal, "hold onto her. She's one of the best things to ever happen in your miserable life and she's more then you deserve. For some reason she actually loves you, so why don't you try to be better. Why don't you try and be better, that way you earn her love?"
Gold stares at him, silent, with a dangerous smile plastered across his face, and Neal had to wonder if he went too far. If they were destined to have another show-down right here in the middle of the library where Belle would be willing to spill all the secrets Neal was trying so hard to keep.
"Leaving so soon, Neal? Our game's not done," Belle said coming up behind them.
"Yes it is; you're in check," he said, his challenging eyes never leaving Gold's face. Belle glanced over at the board, trying to figure out just where the danger to her king lied. "And besides, it looks like your boyfriend wants to take you to lunch or something."
Gold's eyes narrowed and Neal couldn't help but wonder if it was out of a strange form of jealousy, as if the old man knew the truth in Neal's words. That he didn't deserve the woman and was frightened that she would see that, leaving him to his lonely, pathetic life, full of nothing but empty power.
"Well then, good luck with Emma. You seem to truly love her and I'm sure she'll understand once you get to tell her the rest of your story."
Gold didn't bother to hide his surprise and the corners of Neal's mouth twitched at the sight. The old man hardly seemed like the kind to be out of the loop, but he dropped the ball with this one. As far as he could tell, the connection between him and Emma was hardly a state secret around here.
Belle was saying this mostly for the old man's benefit, they all knew this, but Neal couldn't help but be grateful. She was giving him an opportunity to bow out gracefully before this came to blows of both fist and truth.
"Emma's never been good with emotional stuff, so honestly I'm surprised she let me say as much as I did," he said with a wistful little smile.
"But you love her and you're persistent. If you truly love someone you never stop trying to get back to them—you never stop trying to fix your mistakes. All you can do is keep trying and hope they'll forgive you."
Belle wasn't talking about him and Emma. At least not entirely. She was subtly asking him to do the one thing he couldn't. Tell Gold.
"Goodbye," he said, walking out the door.
