Today feels like the kind of day I could go and see her. I feel measured now, like the sight of her face won't have me shaking. But one can never tell. It appears that all my efforts may well be for nothing if I don't actually take the five minutes to walk to the French residence and ring the doorbell. The most I've managed since Ward G is to ring French senior a few times and check on her health.

Still, I suppose I have a shop to run. Wouldn't do to close early on a Monday. Business usually picks up about three.

Three strikes on the grandfather clock behind the counter. It hasn't picked up.

I pull up a stool behind the tall glass cabinets and start polishing some jewellery. An unpleasant task, I can always see my reflection gleaming back at me from the surface of the gold. Most often it's my face as it is now, the human form Regina gave to me. But sometimes, just once in every while, I see beyond it, into my real face. It happens today, a flash in the gold just for a second. I see the light in my eyes, a glimpse of the Dark power trapped beneath this human flesh. I see the thick skin that should cover my face, glowing green in the distorted reflection.

The little bell rings above the doorway.

Tearing myself from the now-shining ring, I crane my neck around the cabinet.

Belle.

But so very unlike Belle. Caroline, for certain, in some godawful sweats that her father undoubtedly provided. She's looking at the marionettes with fascination. For a fleeting moment I wonder if she can recall me showing them to her, but then I remember. How hard it must be, to know yet not really know.

She crouches to look into a cupboard of china, going out of view. I push forward a little more, trying to see her without her notice. The jewellery in my lap that I'd forgotten about goes clattering to the floor.

She leaps back upright, spins on her heel to see me. I rise from the chair.

"Sorry, didn't see you there, dear."

She lets a breath out; the relief on her face is oddly comforting.

"Gold. It's all right. I was just-"

She stops there, looking down at the rings and the polishing cloth on the floor.

"This is... your shop?"

I stoop to pick up the scattered elements. She reaches for the ring nearest her, the one I was shining. When I rise again she comes nearer, hands it to me. And she watches my face as I take it. Those eyes. It's hard to look into them and not just talk to her the way I used to, all those months in the castle. But Gold must be a different man, for a different time. The old way that I treated her never did me much good.

"This is my work, yes. I do quite well in this little town."

She nods, looking around her.

"I feel like I've been in here before." She gives me a pleading look. "A long time ago?"

I can do little to resist the opportunity she's presenting.

- :: -

"You have," he says.

I nod, and I can feel a strange excitement buzzing at the back of my mind. All day I've walked the streets of Storybrooke looking for memories, trying each face that passes me. But nothing feels like this, standing here in this musty space. Strange objects around us, a bizarre collection gathering dust. Nothing feels as real as seeing him.

"So... you remember me, from before I was... in the-"

The words refuse to surface.

"Yes," he cuts in. "I told you. I know you, Caroline."

His face is calm, but his eyes are wide and deep, like he's on the verge of saying something else.

"Could you... tell me about... me?"

It sounds stupid the moment it's out there. But he just smiles, takes in a thoughtful breath.

"Didn't your dad have anything to say?"

I feel a little lump in my throat at his mention.

"He doesn't say much. I feel like a bit of a lodger to be honest. Like I'm staying in someone else's house."

He nods, and for a split second I see his tongue dart out over his bottom lip, and then it's gone again. I've seen him do that. I know I have. I just don't know when, or where.

"Well you'll be out of there in no time, I'm sure. Find yourself a nice job, get a bit of cash. Start your life over."

It sounded quite positive, to start with, but the last line catches me. I'm not sure that sounds all that appealing. Something in his voice says he doesn't believe it either.

"I wouldn't need to start over if I could remember."

"Ah, well. There's the rub."

I realise now he's avoiding it. There must be something, something important he knows about me, else there'd be no problem in telling me. I feel a swell of bravery that comes from almost nowhere.

"Why won't you tell me how I know you?"

The bravery dies when I see his face at the question. For a moment I fear that I've offended him, his wide-eyed look feels like he might just up and leave. But then he looks away, and his face breaks into a small smile. He looks sad behind it.

"It wouldn't be right... if you didn't remember on your own."

He gives me that deep look again, and I focus in on his eyes without meaning to. And then I find I can't look away, like those eyes are pulling me in. A scene forms around us, and I'm miles from the little pawnbrokers, somewhere with snow outside; I can see it through huge windows. It feels like a vacation; a distant place that we've both been to before. I can't see him looking at me, but I know he was there; the way's he's standing next to me now is just the same as then. If I just keep looking, maybe I can-

"MR. GOLD!"

The door behind us flies open with a bang, and a shouting little boy rushes in. When I look back to Gold, the deep look is gone; instead his eyes flash from me to the boy, then back to me. He puts a warm hand on my arm, and I realise I'm shaking. He squeezes for half a moment.

"I'm really sorry," he excuses, "I'll just sort this out."

The small boy is panting and huffing as Gold reaches him.

"Henry," he says. "Henry what's the matter?"

"She knows."

The boy looks up, but not at Gold. He looks at me.

"She just went... to the ward, to see why... she'd been released from the... restricted... section."

He pants again, dropping his head.

"I think Archie must've... I'm not..."

Gold crouches in front of the boy to meet his face.

"It's okay Henry. You've done well to get here and tell me. You run home now, before you land yourself in trouble."

The boy nods and picks himself up, bounding out of the store with heavy steps.

Gold turns to me, and his face is etched with panic. It frightens me. I hadn't pictured him as someone who could lose control.

"B-"

Whatever he was going to say dies on his lips. He blinks hard, looks back at me.

"Caroline, can you do me a favour... and just stay here with me, just for this afternoon?"

There's a pleading, open look to his eyes that wasn't there before. It doesn't look like I'm allowed to say no.