This story was supposed to originally be entirely from Belle's POV, but I needed some things to happen before the next chapter that Belle wouldn't be privy to. I didn't want to just say they happened so here is the first (and probably only) chapter from Gold's POV! I hope it doesn't break up the flow too badly.

Gold stayed late at the shop, losing himself in small, mindless tasks to distract from the storm happening inside his head. It was only after he found himself pulling out an ancient spinning wheel at half past two in the morning that Max finally decided to leave the shop with some semblance of his sanity in tact.

The streets were silent as he took the short drive home, parking in front of his dark, still house. A breeze was stirring the trees in the yard and he stared up through the windshield at the looming shadows of the branches against the starry sky, lacking the energy to get out of the car just yet.

The baby was his.

The thought was on a loop in his head, no matter what he did to distract himself. Belle was having his baby. He supposed she could be lying, could have decided the only way to truly break away from Gary was if she had Gold's financial support. He shook his head. He knew Belle better than that. And no amount of money was worth the risk of Gary finding out.

His hands clenched involuntarily on the steering wheel at the thought. Belle had spent the past seven months in fear for her life and for the life of her child and he hadn't even realized. He had even accused her of wanting to lose the baby, and he closed his eyes in shame. He should never speak when angry. It did him no favors.

He couldn't spend all night in the car, so he climbed out of the cab, trudging up the front steps and unlocking the door as quietly as possible. He was planning on heading straight up to the guest bedroom rather than risk waking Milah. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with her when his feelings were so raw. Unfortunately his night wasn't inclined to do him any more favors than his day had.

"So you've finally managed to drag yourself home," came a voice from the darkness as he entered the foyer.

A light flicked on in the parlor across from the stairs, Milah sitting on the brown leather sofa there, her blush silk bathrobe wrapped around her and hair falling free in gentle waves. It had been so long since he'd seen Milah without her armor, her makeup and coifed hair and designer wardrobe. Seeing her barefaced, with her natural curls was a shock, a reminder of the woman he'd married so many years ago.

"Milah," he said curtly, stopping at the base of the stairs. "Did you need something?"

She stood up, crossing her arms atop her burgeoning belly.

"Yes, I need something," she hissed out. "An explanation for why you beat a man half to death on Main Street!"

Max sighed, bracing his free hand against the banister.

"He owed me money."

Milah scoffed, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder.

"Everyone owes you money. You don't usually put them in the hospital over it."

"Special circumstances," he said with a nod, taking a step up the stairs. But Milah wasn't done with him yet.

"Special circumstances like Belle?" she asked, her voice freezing him. He turned slowly to look at her, his position on the stair giving him more of a height advantage than usual.

"You know what everyone in town is saying, don't you?" she said, a cruel smirk crossing her face as she gazed up at him. "That you were fucking his wife, that little waitress you like so much. They all think you fathered her child."

Gold took a step back down the stairs. He was too tired and emotionally wrung out for anything but honesty. Milah would find out sooner or later. He was determined to be involved in his child's life and it would be hard to hide it from her in the long run.

"I did," he said, wearily. Milah's eyes widened but her face otherwise betrayed no emotion at the revelation.

"What?" she deadpanned.

"Belle's baby," Max clarified, raising his chin, "is mine. I didn't know until today."

Milah's jaw tightened, her eyes glittering in the low light.

"And you believe her?"

Gold shrugged.

"I've no reason not to. The dates all line up. But if you'd like, I'll ask for a paternity test once the baby is born."

Milah let out a sound of disgust, turning and pacing the floor in front of him.

"You know she's using you, right?" she said unkindly. "You can't be stupid enough to think some twenty-something wants you for more than your money. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if her husband was in on the charade. Perhaps he pimps her out around town anytime they need money."

"Don't," he hissed, his voice deadly quiet.

"What?" Milah asked, pausing in her pacing. "Insult your little whore? That's what she is Maxwell. She's not your wife, she's not the love of your life, pure as the driven snow. She's a tramp of a waitress who can't keep her legs closed."

She was trying to get a rise out of him, trying to goad him into a fight. Gold wouldn't rise to her bait. He clenched his cane handle tight in his hand, focusing on keeping his breathing even.

"So, what?" Milah continued. "Are you going to leave me for this midlife crisis?"

"I don't know," Gold said, shaking his head. "Is there any reason I shouldn't?"

Milah gaped at him, her mouth falling open.

"You're actually entertaining the idea of running off with your mistress?" she braced her hands on her hips, shaking her head. "Don't be foolish, Maxwell. I'll take Neal away and there will be nothing you can do about it."

"Why?" he asked, shaking his head. "You don't love me. You certainly don't like me. Why won't you let me go?"

"Because you don't get to win," she hissed, stomping toward him, her teeth bared. "You don't get to be happy with some child fifteen years younger than me. You don't get to have love and family and happiness when you sucked the best years of my life from me!"

Milah's eyes were wild, her limbs trembling with barely contained rage. He wouldn't have thought she had it in her but apparently his suffering was more important than her own happiness.

"All I've ever done is try to make you happy," he said, his voice steely. "First with my presence and when it became clear you hated me for some reason, I left you alone. I financed your travels. What else did you want from me?"

Milah shook her head in disgust, turning away from him.

"You think I don't know you only married me because of Neal?" she asked, staring down their wedding portrait hung on the hallway wall as if it had personally offended her. "Do you think I didn't see the contempt you had for me from day one? You're right. I don't love you and I never have. How could I love someone who only ever saw me as a burden? As a duty? As a mother to a precious son and nothing more! You've never seen me Maxwell. You never even tried."

"I tried to make our marriage work," he said, stepping forward. "But I was never enough for you."

Milah let out a wet laugh, shaking her head.

"Making a marriage work takes more than providing financially."

"What, like fidelity?" he countered.

Milah snorted. "You just admitted to getting another woman pregnant!"

"I was faithful to you," he spat. "For fourteen years. Until Belle."

"And you want a reward for celibacy?"

"No. But you want to talk about trying to make a marriage work? I knew about Alejandro, the personal trainer. And Simon, the businessman you met on a plane. And Killian, the only one dumb enough to call the house."

"Don't judge me for how I chose to cope with my husband's disinterest," she erupted. "If I had actually loved you, you'd have broken my heart."

"What heart?" he said, his voice little more than an angry hiss.

Milah shook her head, angry tears forming in her blue eyes.

"There it is," she said, jabbing her finger against his chest, her face in his. "You think I'm heartless? You don't know me. You've lived beside me fifteen years and you don't know the first thing about me. You are a shit husband, Maxwell. You don't get the moral high ground because I happened to cheat first."

Gold shook his head. It was true he had married Milah because she was pregnant, but he had thought he loved her at the time as well. Her first marital indiscretion had occurred two years into their marriage and he'd been sick over it, his heart broken that Milah could flout their marriage vows so easily. Over time he'd hardened to her. He'd had to in order to survive. Any softness he'd once felt for her was long gone, but it wasn't fabricated. He'd cared once.

"I'm sorry," he said, giving Milah a stiff nod. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. It was never my intention. But Milah, it's been so long since we've been even remotely happy together. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with someone you despise just to make sure I'm as miserable as you are?"

Milah's shoulders sagged as she rubbed her palms against her upper arms.

"I'm tired, Maxwell," she said with a shake of her head. "I'm the kind of tired that no amount of sleep can cure."

"Then please," he said, his voice imploring. "Let me go. I want a divorce."

Milah sucked in a ragged breath, shooting a glance up the stairs.

"What about Neal?"

"I imagine he'll be relieved not to have to pretend we're a happy family any longer."

"And what about this baby?" she demanded. "Your daughter?"

His eyes fell to where Milah's hands cradled her bump beneath the silk of her dressing gown.

"We both know she's not mine," he said flatly.

Milah's mouth snapped shut, her brow creasing.

"How could you say such a thing?"

"Oh cut the act," he said impatiently. "You're a terrible actress."

She narrowed her eyes, her hands dropping from her belly.

"I'll claim her," he continued, nodding to Milah's belly. "I'll love her, provide for her, raise her as my own. But don't insult my intelligence any more than you already have. Do you think I'd take your word alone for this? I checked with the sperm bank and all my samples are accounted for. Have you even informed the real father? He might want to know. If it's Killian, he certainly seems besotted enough to take you in."

Milah just glared at him for a long moment before shrugging one slim shoulder, the blush silk of her robe creasing with the motion.

"Fine," she said. "You caught me. If you'd just done your part and fucked me six months ago you'd be none the wiser but then you've always been a disappointment."

"A disappointing, shit husband who you've fought tooth and nail to keep chained to you. Are you actually allergic to happiness then?"

Milah rolled her eyes, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe to the parlor and playing with the ties to her robe. He wanted to leave, be out of Milah's presence, but she was still eyeing him, clearly not done with the conversation.

"So why did you do it?"

"Do what?" he asked, unsure about the shift in conversation.

She rolled her eyes again. "Beat Gary Stone half to death on Main Street. It can't have been jealousy alone."

It wasn't his place to tell. Belle had been ashamed of Gary's abuse, as if it somehow reflected badly on her. She seemed to think herself weak for being trapped in a horrible situation.

None of it was Belle's fault of course. And he wanted to be honest with Milah now, in the end.

"He was hurting Belle," he said finally, glancing down at the floor. "He suspected the baby wasn't his."

There was a beat of silence. And then Milah laughed, actually laughed, throwing her head back with cackling glee. Gold's eyes snapped back up to her in horror.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in front of her. "And here I thought my little ruse had failed."

"What are you talking about?" he spat, his stomach roiling at the thought that Milah had anything to do with Belle's most recent misfortunes.

Milah smiled, her bare feet padding across the polished wooden floor toward him, eager to see the results of her meddling up close.

"I had my friend at Storybrooke General take a look at Gary Stone for his work physical," she explained, her nose crinkling up with glee. "It got a bit more involved than those things usually do but Gary didn't seem to realize anything was amiss. Ignorance is a virtue, you know. Anyway, my friend told him he was sterile."

"You…" he said, the whole situation suddenly making perfect sense. "You're the reason Gary almost killed Belle."

Milah shrugged. "How was I supposed to know he was violent? I just wanted him to confront the girl and get her to confess to her affair."

"Why?" Gold demanded. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I wanted the truth, something you've never been kind enough to give me. I wanted to know if my suspicions were correct and you'd knocked up that child. I wanted to know if my family was at risk."

"What family?" he asked. "We're two strangers who happen to share a child thanks to youthful hormones and too much tequila."

And that was the truth of it. He and Milah should never have gotten married. He thought he'd been doing the right thing but all he'd managed to do was make both of them miserable for a decade and a half. It seemed every time he tried to do something right it just blew up in his face making things infinitely worse.

"You know, I think that's the most honest thing you've ever said to me," she said, her eyes looking up at him wonderingly. "Thank you for that."

"And you were honest too," he ground out. "I don't know you at all. I'd never in a million years have married you if I'd known just how black your heart truly is."

Milah stepped closer to him, her eyes wild as she reached for his tie, yanking him to her.

"You're the one that blackened it, baby!" she said, pressing herself against his chest. Gold grabbed hold of her arm, forcing her away from him, out of his space, and Milah stumbled back dramatically.

"What are you going to do?" she taunted. "Lay hands on your pregnant wife? You're no better than Gary Stone. For all that you wrap yourself in expensive suits and gold watches you'll never be anything more than that brute from Glasgow that you've always been."

Gold seethed, his hand clenched painfully around his cane. He wanted Milah out of his home. He never wanted to see her again. Neither of those desires were realistic or likely to happen. So for now, he needed to go.

"I want a divorce," he said again, using all his concentration on keeping his voice steady and emotionless. "On that I'm firm. We can negotiate the details later. For now I'm going to stay at the cabin as I don't wish to ever spend the night under the same roof with you again."

He turned back to the stairs, intending to pack a bag and be out of Milah's presence as soon as possible.

"Maxwell," she called after him and he stopped halfway up the stairs, his hand tight around the bannister. "I don't want Neal to suffer."

He nodded, still not turning to face her.

"On that we agree. So let's try to keep this civil."

He didn't make it to the cabin that night. He didn't trust himself on the winding forest roads so late, with little sleep and a fragile emotional state. Instead he'd headed back to the shop, tossing and turning on the narrow cot in the back room until the first rays of sunlight cut through the blinds and he was certain he hadn't actually slept at all.

He cleaned himself as well as could be expected in the sink of the small shop bathroom, shaving his morning stubble blearily in the mirror and managing to only nick himself twice.

His skin looked sallow in the fluorescent bathroom light, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced that usual, and he turned away from his reflection in disgust. He was old and broken and soon to be divorced. He was having a child with a married woman half his age. He had a teenage son who would soon find himself thrust into the middle of the biggest town scandal in years.

He dragged a hand across his face. Despite his best intentions every person in his life was miserable and it could all be traced back to him. It seemed that no matter what he did, he always hurt the people he loved. It was part of the reason he had so few people he cared about in his life. He had always been an expert at driving people away and those still clinging to him by their fingernails were about to be shaken off by the impact of his own implosion. He wouldn't be surprised if Neal chose to live with his mother full time once he learned the truth.

Neal would be especially prone to never speaking to him again if he found out about the divorce and the baby through town gossip rather than his own parents. He needed to speak to his son, to make sure he heard it from the horse's mouth rather than a convoluted, sensationalized version of events. God knew what Milah had told him already this morning when he woke up to find his father no longer in residence.

With that in mind he headed out the shop door to Granny's. He needed a stiff cup of coffee and Neal had started meeting his friend Emma there for breakfast most Saturday mornings before they had SAT prep.

Granny's was packed on a Saturday morning, half the town getting their fix of eggs, bacon and pancakes served up by a harried looking Ruby and Granny. He cast an eye around for Belle but she must have taken the morning off, unsurprising after the eventful day she'd had yesterday. Part of him hoped she'd gone to the contest after all. He wanted her to have her freedom, to do something wholly for herself. It was why he had paid Gary's medical bills. She shouldn't spend her hard earned money on him or anyone else. For once in her life, he wanted Belle to put herself first.

He caught sight of Neal, sitting at a small table in the back of the diner, having what appeared to be a very serious conversation with Emma Swan, their heads together and voices low in the noisy diner. They sprang apart as he approached, Emma looking up at him warily. She was still fairly new in town after coming to live with the Nolans a few months ago and while she and Neal had become fast friends, she didn't seem to think much of the elder Gold. He figured her foster parents probably had something to do with that. He'd never been very popular with them either.

"Miss Swan," he said with a nod to Emma. "Do you mind if I speak to my son for a moment?"

Emma shrugged before glancing across at Neal, her green eyes a question. Neal gave the smallest of nods and Emma relented.

"I'll just go check out the donut selection for today," she said, pushing her chair back and heading to the counter with one last backward glance at Neal.

"May I sit?" Gold asked his son, gesturing at Emma's recently vacated chair.

Neal sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back.

"Okay," he said, stonily. He was staring straight ahead, not giving his father the benefit of his full attention.

"I take it you spoke to your mother this morning?" he ventured as he sat, notching his cane handle on the back of his chair.

Neal nodded stiffly.

"May I inquire as to what exactly she said?"

Neal shrugged. "That you were moving out. That you wanted a new family. That you're abandoning us."

Gold shook his head. Of course Milah would frame this to paint him in the worst possible light. So much for civility.

"And do you believe that?"

Neal shrugged again. "I don't know what to believe, Papa. You've both been acting crazy for months now. I know you and Mom have never been happy together but at least it was predictable. Mom would leave for a month at a time and come back happy and you always seem in better spirits when she's away too. And then you spring a baby sister on me out of nowhere and now you're moving out? I just…" he trailed off, shaking his head and leaning forward against the table, his elbows braced against it. "I don't know what's going on and you never tell me anything anymore. We used to talk and now it's like I barely see you. Suddenly Mom is the one who's home more often and everything has just been weird."

Gold nodded. He was sure his recent erratic behavior had been distressing for Neal. In his efforts to maintain the status quo he'd completely derailed it.

"I'm sorry, son," he said, bending his head to catch Neal's eye. "I know this must be confusing for you. And I'm sorry your mother told you half-truths. I'm not abandoning you or your new sister. I promise that."

"But you guys are getting a divorce?" he asked. In that moment, despite Neal's deepening voice and the fact that his boy was already taller than him, Gold couldn't help but see the small boy he'd once been sitting in front of him. He'd worked so hard to avoid this conversation, avoid telling a child his parents were splitting up, and yet he found himself here anyway. He'd only delayed the inevitable. He'd been afraid of losing his son, but the sullen young man sitting across from him was as closed off as he'd always feared. He'd driven him away by the very act of trying to keep the family together.

"Yes," Gold said with a nod.

"Where are you going to live?" Neal asked.

"I'm not certain yet," Gold said. "For now I'll be staying at our cabin. Eventually we'll figure out a more permanent solution."

"Well where am I gonna live?" he asked.

"Wherever you want," Gold said. "If you'd like to stay in your old room at the house that's fine. If you want to live with me when I figure out a permanent living situation I'd be overjoyed. Or you could split time, have two rooms. Two PlayStations if you wanted."

It would hurt if Neal chose to stay with Milah, but he didn't expect anything less. The boy would want to stay in his own home with all of his things. He couldn't uproot his son's life any more than he already was.

Neal's lips quirked up in the beginnings of a smile and Gold counted that a win. "I don't need two PlayStations."

"Then I'll get you an Xbox," Gold countered and Neal rolled his eyes.

"Don't turn into one of those cliché dads that starts buying me everything I want to make up for getting a divorce."

"So you're saying I should return the convertible?"

Neal's eyes widened.

"Wait, really?"

Gold snorted. "No. You're only fifteen. Get your driver's license and we'll talk."

There was silence for a moment as Neal picked at the edge of the tablecloth, his eyes wandering over to where Emma was sitting at the counter. She quickly glanced away from him, masquerading that she hadn't been watching their conversation closely.

"You know, I never wanted you guys to stay together just for me," Neal said finally. "I didn't want you both unhappy. It's all my fault. If I'd never been born you'd both be better off."

"No," Gold said fiercely, reaching across to grab his son's hand. "Never say that, Neal. You are the very best thing that ever happened to us. None of this is your fault."

Neal nodded and Gold tightened his grip on his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "You are so loved, Neal," he said. "Please never ever doubt that."

Neal sniffed, blinking rapidly, trying his hardest to keep his emotions at bay. They shouldn't have had this conversation here. He should have done it in private. But he needed to tell Neal the truth before he heard anything more from another source.

Neal swallowed, clearing his throat before looking back at his father.

"What did Mom mean about you having another family?" he asked.

Gold sighed, clasping his hands in his lap. This was the uncomfortable part of the conversation. The thing he'd been dreading telling Neal.

"You are about to be the big brother of two new siblings, not just one."

Neal's eyes widened. "Wait, what?" he asked, scooting forward on his chair. "Is Mom having twins?"

"No," Gold said, feeling the color rise in his cheeks. How the hell did you admit to your teenage son that you'd been having an affair? How could he possibly make that sound anything but sleazy? "You know Belle, the waitress here?"

"Yeah," Neal said warily, comprehension dawning in his eyes.

"Well…" Gold trailed off, spreading his hands.

"Oh God!" Neal exclaimed, his chair skidding back from the table as he recoiled in disgust. "She's having your baby?"

"Please keep it down," Gold intoned, glancing around at the other tables watching them with interest since Neal's outburst.

"Papa," Neal hissed. "She's like…young!"

"Yes," he agreed.

"She's like barely older than me!"

Gold shook his head. He wouldn't go that far.

"Now lets not be ridiculous. She's twenty-six."

"So eleven years difference," Neal said. "She's closer in age to me than I'll be to my younger siblings."

When he put it like that it was a bit damning.

"I'm sorry, Neal," he said. "Obviously none of this was intentional."

"I don't want to think about it!" Neal insisted, covering his ears with his hands. "It's bad enough you got mom pregnant when I'm fifteen but now I've got to worry about other people too? How big of a horndog are you?"

"Neal!" he hissed. People were definitely watching them now, despite the loud volume of the morning breakfast rush somewhat masking their conversation.

"Sorry," Neal said. "I just…I don't know how much more news I can take today."

"Fair enough," Gold said with a nod. "I didn't have any more news in any case."

"Thank God for that," Neal griped.

There was a beat of awkward silence and Gold stared down at his hands. He needed Neal to know just how much he meant to him, that none of the other shake ups in his life changed things between them. As far as he was concerned there was his son and then there was everyone else. Neal would always be his top priority. He was certain he'd feel the same way about his second child once they arrived as well.

"Look, Neal, you don't have to make any decisions about anything right now, but please know that I would love for you to live with me. If you want to stay with your mother, that is, of course, fine as well. But I would miss you terribly. I love you, son."

Neal nodded, not giving him any idea of where his head was at the moment. He was prevented from any further conversation by the arrival of Ruby who dropped off a short stack of pancakes in front of Neal and French toast at Emma's seat. She eyed the two of them but didn't say anything before heading back to the kitchen. It seemed as much of a cue for Gold to leave as anything and he collected his cane from the back of his chair.

"Well, I'll let you and Miss Swan get back to your breakfasts," he said, pushing back from the table.

"Wait," Neal said before he could get up and he paused, giving Neal his rapt attention. "Do you love her? Belle, I mean."

Gold froze, staring at his son. His newfound penchant for honesty meant he could only answer one way. But he wasn't sure how Neal would take it.

"Yes," he said finally. "I do love her."

"Oh," Neal said with a nod. "Are you like gonna marry her or something?"

Gold let out a huff.

"Well, she's already married."

"Yeah," Neal said, cocking his head to the side. "But clearly that's not going too well."

Gold snorted. "No I suppose it's not."

"So are you going to marry Belle instead?"

Gold's mouth gaped open, then closed, like a fish gasping for air. He had no idea how to answer that. To say an outright "no" seemed harsh. But he was certain that wasn't where he and Belle were headed. She wanted away from Storybrooke, not to bind herself to it in yet another way. He was a bad husband in any case. Experience had proven that much. Belle deserved better than this town and the people in it, especially him.

"I don't think she'd like that," he said finally.

"Good," Neal said, blowing out a breath. "I mean I like Belle. She's my favorite waitress and she makes the best pies in the world. But I don't think I want her to be my stepmom."

"Understood," Gold said with a curt nod. He could certainly respect Neal's wishes there. He doubted there was any future for he and Belle's romantic relationship as much as it pained him to admit.

He walked over to the counter, ordering his coffee to go and watched as Emma scampered back over to Neal audibly asking what was going on. He wondered just how soon the news would spread around town now. Milah and Neal knew the truth but he doubted either of them wanted to stir up the gossip around their own family. Others in town had already guessed due to his public caning of Gary. He tried to find some shred of discomfort, some embarrassment over his private life being laid bare, but no shame came to him. He was concerned for Neal and how others would treat him. And he was concerned for Belle and how the town might turn on her for her association with him. He was certainly concerned about Gary's reaction to everything, but he would destroy the man if he ever so much as looked in Belle's direction again.

But he felt no sense of dread when it came to himself. He couldn't possibly care less what the town thought about him, his relationship with Belle, any of it. He only cared about Belle and his children. Everyone else could hang for all he cared. There was something freeing in that.

He took the coffee from Ruby's outstretched hand, leaving her a decent tip before heading out into the late August morning. The early fog had burned off, the temperature rising as the sun beat down against the asphalt outside. He certainly had troubles, a whole heap of them, but now that the key parties in his family drama knew the truth, he was almost at peace.

The rest of the morning passed slowly, the cuckoo clock on the wall taking forever to finally erupt at the alert of midday. The shop was slow, so Gold sat down with a list of his currently vacant rental properties trying to see if any of them would do for his new home.

The truth was he loved the Victorian, from its salmon pink color to the large backyard. He'd bought it when Milah was pregnant thinking it the perfect home to raise children in. It was located on a quiet street and had plenty of space. Milah had never liked it saying it wasn't her style. She hadn't spent much time on renovations though he'd offered to change anything she wanted. A new master bathroom had been her pet project when they'd first moved in but save that, the house had remained as it was. That was fine with Gold. He appreciated the old charm of the place. Newer homes just didn't have the same character, despite their open floor plans and large walk in closets.

He owned a brick, three bedroom house a couple of blocks away from the Victorian that might do. He didn't need a lot of space, just room for he and Neal. And a nursery, he realized. He wasn't sure what the custody arrangement between himself and Belle would look like, but he'd like to be prepared. The house would need a fresh coat of paint and he was about to call his handyman when the door to the shop burst open, the bell hung above the door flying across the room for the second time in as many days.

A frantic looking Ruby Lucas stumbled in to the shop, coming to stand in the middle of the sales floor. There were mascara tracks underneath her eyes, her nose red as if she'd been crying. He couldn't think what she was doing here.

"Miss Lucas," he said, pushing himself up from where he'd been leaning against the counter. "How can I help you?"

"I uh, I didn't want to come to you," she said, distractedly. She kept running her hands over her arms as if she was cold, despite the sunny weather outside. "I'd just call her and warn her but that bastard took away her cell phone a year ago. And I don't know what's going on with you and Belle or where you stand, and she's never exactly been forthcoming about it, but I figure you're the one person in this town who cares about her and maybe has enough money or influence to help, so here I am."

"What's wrong, Ruby?" he asked, his senses on high alert. He stepped out from behind the counter, approaching her slowly. "What's wrong with Belle?"

Ruby shook her head, blinking tears out of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said hoarsely, her face crumpling. "I didn't want to tell him."

"Who?" Gold asked, his voice getting frantic. "Tell them what?"

Ruby let out a shaky breath, dashing away the tears on her cheeks with the heels of her hands. Her arms dropped back to her sides, her hands fisting in the material of her red mini skirt.

"I didn't want to tell him," she said again, with another shake of her head. "God, I wouldn't have told him if it was just me but Ariel came in and he grabbed her and I…"

Ruby broke off, a sob breaking free from her throat.

"I couldn't lose her so I told him."

"What are you talking about?" Gold demanded. His hand clenched around his cane to keep from reaching out and shaking the words out of Ruby.

"Gary," Ruby said, her eyes finding Gold's. "He came to the diner looking for Belle. He was angry and I told him to go fuck himself but he grabbed Ariel and I swear to God he was mad enough to kill and all hopped up on painkillers he wasn't in his right mind."

Gold's heart sank to his knees, the shop suddenly spinning around him. Gary must have left the hospital and if he was as angry as Ruby described he could only be after one thing, hurting Belle for Gold's sins.

"What did you tell him?"

"That she went up to Bangor for that pie contest," she said. "That was her plan anyway."

Gold didn't need to hear any more, grabbing his keys from under the counter before turning to the shop safe and quickly punching in the combination. Inside was a small handgun and he checked the safety before pocketing it. When he turned back Ruby was gaping at him, her face pale.

"What are you going to do?" Ruby called, scurrying after him as he headed for the side door where his car was parked.

"I'm going to find Belle before Gary does."