A/N: Thank you power214063, Sparked To Life, Collectorofkeys, and David-El for your reviews, and to everyone who followed and favorited.
In regards to your questions, this chapter should clear up why August was under the impression that Nate (who is Henry's father) was Baelfire. Additionally, Nate did indeed act like he knew what August was talking about when he confronted him about it; their confrontation was almost exactly like the one between August and Neal in cannon, except that Nate never contacted August again. Now, who is Nate and why did he do that? I'm afraid you're going to have to wait a bit to find that out, but I promise that the mystery will be solved eventually.
Not According to Plan
Chapter 11: Empty Heart
~Catspook
"Pinocchio, I told you that you must do this on your own. It would be best for everyone if we were not seen together."
"Yes, Blue, I know that, but I found something in the Book that affects Emma on a personal level; I need answers." Since his well-being wasn't exactly Blue's concern, August hoped that mentioning Emma's might help.
It didn't. "Emma's destiny is the break the curse; that is all you must help her with."
"No, I owe it to her to help with this. This is about Henry's dad."
Blue frowned, and August got the impression that she knew what he was going to ask. "Did you not protect her from him as I asked you to?"
"I did exactly what you asked, but apparently not to the person to asked me to do it. I don't think Nate was Baelfire. I've met Gold's son, and he looks just like the picture in the Book. The kid's name is even Bae. He's Baelfire, isn't he? And Gold is Rumplestiltskin."
Her frown deepened. "Yes. But it changes nothing. Henry's father was still a poor influence on Emma, even if he was not the Dark One's son."
"So who was he?"
"I don't know."
"When did you know he wasn't who you said he was?"
"When Baelfire was found, just days after Emma's arrival in Storybrooke."
"I see. And Rumplestiltskin is awake, isn't he?"
"I believe so. In either case, stay away from him and the boy. Even as Mr. Gold he was dangerous; he will be immeasurably so now. And you have shown yourself particularly vulnerable to his kind of manipulation." Really? Does he guilt trip half as well as you? "Worry not, Pinocchio, this changes nothing of importance. Henry is exactly as he is meant to be, even if our predictions regarding his parentage were wrong. And Baelfire being found also impacts little; Rumplestiltskin will continue to be the Dark One as he was before."
"You're sure? I hear he's- Wait, 'Henry is as he was meant to be'? 'Predictions about his parentage' - you knew Emma was pregnant? Why didn't you tell me?"
She blinked, looking genuinely surprised by his question. "Would it have mattered?"
"Of course! She had to give him up because of what I did! You said I was helping her!"
"You did help her; all is as it was meant to be."
"Emma's son was 'meant' to be adopted by the Evil Queen?"
"Yes. He is what brought her here."
"I was supposed to bring her here!"
"But you didn't, did you?"
"I-" August had no defense for that. "Did you know I wouldn't?"
"I knew Henry would. That it was because you had failed in your duty; that was still your choice, Pinocchio."
"I- I-"
She pursed her lips. "You should not have come here, Pinocchio, and you should not have stayed so long. If you have no other questions-"
"Wait! I do, I do. Rumplestiltskin - do you know what he is planning?"
She sighed. "By all accounts, he is pitting Emma against Regina, as is her destiny."
"So he still wants the curse broken?"
"It appears so, but it matters not. Do not approach him, Pinocchio, or Baelfire; you could jeopardize everything."
August cringed. "I, ah, may already have."
Blue narrowed her eyes in that piercing way August hated. "That was very foolish, Pinocchio."
"I didn't know who they were then; I was trying to figure it out. Gold is a major player in this town, and because of Nate I didn't think he could be Rumplestiltskin. I thought he might be the Sorcerer." If you'd just told me…
"Well," she said condescendingly, "What's done is done. But do not approach either one of them again; everyone is relying on you to help Emma believe."
"But if Rumplestiltskin also wants the curse broken…"
"No," she said sharply. "Accept no aid from him. Whatever intentions he claims to have do not matter. The Dark One contaminates all he touches; he cannot do otherwise. What love he still has for his son cannot stand against the darkness of his curse, even in this world."
"Then why try to send them here?" She gave him a startled look. "It's, ah, in the Book."
"Without magic, the damage his evil can do is significantly lessened. I thought it worth the risk, especially given how short a time he'd been the Dark One at that point. Things are different now; he has power in this world from his dealings with the Queen, and centuries more of knowledge. Do not approach him."
"And what about his kid? Are we just going to leave him with the Dark One?"
She smiled at him, but it did not look sincere. "It is good of you, Pinocchio, to worry for Baelfire, and for Henry, but they are not your concern. Emma is your concern. Help her believe; that is the only thing you can do for any of us, including Baelfire and Henry."
August had questions - so, so many questions - but he could tell he would get nothing else from her. He sighed. "All right, Blue. Thanks."
Well, at least the walkie-talkies were getting some use now. Regina had finally taken steps to separate Emma and Henry, and as far as Rumplestiltskin could tell, Emma was toing the line for the time being - at least in regards to physical contact. Speaking, however, that was another matter. Rumplestiltskin was pleased with himself.
Another rent day came and went. Moe French, as predicted, did not make his monthly payment. It was the second missed payment, and his collateral was now forfeit. Rumplestiltskin waited until February 13th just to make it sting that much more (and it would sting - Rumplestiltskin's prediction regarding holidays was correct, and with the curse weakened by Emma's triumphs, Valentine's Day was now seeing far more celebration than Christmas had). If asked, he could even say he'd given the man five extra days to make his payment.
Oh, Rumplestiltskin would have liked to be there when Dove took French's van, but he knew how it would look; Storybrooke's beast gloating over another conquest. It didn't matter that Maurice was far from innocent in either world; in any story he was in, Rumplestiltskin (as himself or Mr. Gold) was always the villain. He didn't want to be a villain to his boy. So he sent Dove after the van alone and stayed at the shop, giving Bae a biology lesson.
It was actually their day to do history, but they were up to the causes of the Civil War and, in reviewing the text, the word 'belle' had jumped out at Rumplestiltskin like an accusation. Today of all days, he just didn't have it in him to face that word and everything attached to it.
Eleven approached and Dove entered the shop. "How did it go?" Rumplestiltskin asked him as Bae hurried off to change for his run.
"It's done. He was angry."
"I imagine so. Thank you, Mr. Dove." Dove bowed, hands clasped in front of him.
They stood in silence (and really, that was once of Dove's best qualities, he didn't chatter at him - not like Her) until Bae was ready to go. "We'll be back, Papa!" Bae said cheerfully as they left.
"Have fun, Bae."
"I will!"
Once they were gone, Rumplestiltskin opened the safe (when he'd hidden the dagger there, he'd changed the combination to keep Regina out - it was now one of the very few places in town she could not access) and just stared at the jewelry box that contained Belle's cup. Eventually, reverently, he took the box out and pulled out the cup, just to prove to himself that it was still there.
He held it, staring at it, for nearly twenty minutes before he heard stomping, and a sharp, loud ringing as the door was thrown open. Rumplestiltskin snarled. It was Moe.
He hastily put the cup back in the box, not bothering with the velvet bag. The cup was his; Maurice had no right even to look at it.
"Gold!"
"Mr. French."
"You need to give me my van back!"
"No, I really don't. The terms of the loan were fairly specific."
"I have a grand in roses in the back; you have to let me sell them! I'll have your money by next week!"
"Again, no, I don't. The money was due last week. Now, remove yourself from my shop, Mr. French. I have nothing more to say to you." He did, of course, but nothing that would make sense to Maurice's cursed self.
"This is no way to do business, Gold; people aren't going to put up with it!"
"Put up with the legal repossession of defaulted collateral? I think you'll find they will. Now, this is your final warning: get out, before I have you arrested for trespassing."
Moe barked a laugh. "By your pretty pet Sheriff? I've heard all about you, Gold-"
"Get. Out," Rumplestiltskin growled. His vision was turning red, and if he hadn't locked up his handguns immediately after finding Bae, Moe would have been staring down a barrel. But apparently his tone was enough.
Fear flashed across Moe's face, and he yanked the door open. "You haven't heard the last of this, Gold!" he shouted futilely, and slammed the door behind him. Rumplestiltskin snatched up a porcelain figurine and hurled it at the door, smashing it to dust. It was followed by another and another, until the entire set of twelve was in broken pieces on the floor. It didn't help in the slightest.
His father was upset. When Bae got back from his run, he could tell that something had happened. "Papa, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Son." It was a lie.
"You're upset."
"It's nothing."
"It's not nothing."
"Bae-"
"Did Regina do something?"
"Oh! No, no, Bae, this has nothing to do with her. Mr. French came by to dispute the terms of his loan, and insinuated some things about Sheriff Swan that I did not appreciate. That's all."
"I… oh. What did he say?"
"Nothing of import. I should not have let it bother me as much as I did."
"Oh."
Papa smiled, but Bae could tell he was still upset. "Why don't you go get our lunch out of the fridge?"
"I… OK." But before heading to the back room, Bae pulled Papa into a brief hug. At least, he intended it to be brief; Papa hugged back and held on. Bae let him. Maybe Papa didn't want to talk about what was bothering him, but at least he could do this.
He had Bae. Bae was everything. He couldn't afford to think about Belle. If he thought about Belle, he'd think of how she died, and then he'd be able to think of nothing else except what he wanted to do to Maurice.
Maurice was her father. How could he have done that to her? Having Bae back only brought the full horror of it into sharp relief. Never, not for anything, could Rumplestiltskin imagine even thinking about doing to his boy what Maurice had done to Belle. He'd never even disciplined Bae with a switch, even though Milah and half the town had called him a coward for it (never mind that Bae was the best-behaved lad in the village). But to hand Belle over to be tortured and call it right? Maurice was more a monster than Rumplestiltskin had ever been. The clerics too; at least when Rumplestiltskin tortured someone, he never claimed he was on the side of the angels.
He'd annihilated their order after Regina had told him of Belle's fate. He'd been unable to touch Maurice without breaking his deal with Belle, but the clerics had been no friends of hers; he'd killed them to a man. He should have done it years before. He'd made many a deal with desperate souls seeking to escape their wrath; some had even been able to move him to pity. He should have removed their influence. He should have made sure Belle did not return to Avonlea. She was supposed to leave and go on grand adventures, damn it! He'd left her a pack of tools, clothing, and provisions, everything she needed to be the hero she wished to be. She was a hero, always had been; she was supposed to get a happy ending!
Stop. STOP! Think about Bae. Bae needs me. I have to keep him safe. I can't get arrested. I can't jeopardize my rapport with Emma. Bae is worried; he knows something is wrong. Focus.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Bae asked as they were closing up the shop that night. Rumplestiltskin had spent a long moment staring at the safe, debating whether to open it and bring the cup home. He wanted it with him, but he knew had to drag his thoughts away from Belle and back to Bae.
"I'm… I'll be fine," he said with another awkward smile. He left the cup behind, trying very hard not to think of it as a betrayal.
"Stop," Mr. Dove said. It was, to Bae's recollection, the only time Mr. Dove had spoken to him without Bae speaking to him first.
Bae glanced back at him, and saw that he was staring at the house. Following his gaze, Bae realized the front door was slightly open. "Someone's in our house?"
Mr. Dove pulled out his phone. "There's been a break in… yes… very good, Mr. Gold."
"Should I call the Sheriff?" Bae asked.
"Mr. Gold will."
"OK."
They waited. Emma arrived first, in her yellow car. "Hello, Emma."
"Hey, kid, Dove. Can I assume you haven't gone in?"
"Yes."
"Good. Stay here; I'm going to take a look."
"OK."
Papa arrived while Emma was still inside. "Bae! Are you all right?"
Bae blinked. "I'm fine, Papa. We didn't even go inside."
Papa let out a relieved breath. "Good, good. I take it Sheriff Swan is inside now?"
Bae nodded. "Mhm."
They waited for a while more, until Emma came back out the front and waved to them. Papa walked towards her, and Bae and Mr. Dove followed. "Yeah, you definitely got robbed," Emma said once they were close enough to hear. "Can you take a look around, let me know what's missing?"
"Of course," Papa said.
"Seems like they were looking something specific, but I don't know what. Looks like they went through the display cabinets first and then moved to the office and bedrooms. Any ideas what they were looking for?"
"The only items I can think of are not actually in the house." He sounded relieved.
"Well, that's good. Any ideas on who might have done it?"
"Oh, yes. I'm quite certain it was Moe French, the town florist. He defaulted on a loan, and I had Mr. Dove repossess his collateral yesterday. He was not best pleased."
"What was the collateral?"
"His delivery van."
"Ouch. So he wasn't stealing that back. What do you think he was after?"
"Valuables, perhaps? I really couldn't say."
"Those items you mentioned earlier?"
"He wouldn't know about them."
"Anyone in town who might?"
Papa gave her a sharp smile. "I'll give you three guesses."
"Regina," Emma sighed.
"Right in one."
"What are they?"
"Items of extreme personal value. I'd rather not discuss them."
"Fine, keep your secrets for now. If it was Moe, it doesn't matter anyway. If it wasn't, I'll have to come back to that."
"Hm."
"And don't touch the kitchen doors; I think he went out that way. I have a fingerprinting kit in my car; I want to dust for prints before I leave."
Papa sighed. "Very well." Papa turned to Bae. "Are you all right taking the inventory of your room, or would you like me to do it?"
"I can do it. I don't think there's anything in there worth stealing except my allowance money, anyway." Bae had tried to refuse the allowance at first, but Papa insisted it wasn't a gift; it supposed to teach him how to manage money responsibly. So far, Bae's approach to money management had been to stash it in a shoebox in the back of his closet. When Bae checked, it was still there. Nothing else appeared to have been taken either, but the drawers had been rifled through. Bae shivered. Not even Papa went into his room without permission; it creeped him out that a stranger had.
Bae found Papa in his office. "Can I come in?"
"Of course," Papa replied. "Did he… take anything of yours?"
Bae shook his head. "No. He went though the drawers, though."
Papa narrowed his eyes, and Bae could see that terrifying anger building up in his expression. "It's fine," Bae said.
"It's not 'fine'; he went through your things. Are you sure he didn't take anything?"
Bae shifted nervously. "I'm pretty sure."
Papa looked like he was about to say something angry, then sighed. "Very well."
"Emma's going to take care of this," Bae was compelled to say.
"Yes," Papa replied, not looking happy about it. "I will be pursuing this to the fullest extent of the law."
Bae let out a nervous breath. "OK, good. Can I help with anything else?"
"No," Papa replied sourly.
"Oh."
Papa looked up, guilty. "Bae… on second thought, you can take a look at the rooms upstairs and let me know which ones he ransacked. If you like."
"OK, I'll do that. Are Emma and Mr. Dove still here?"
"Yes, although I believe Emma is nearly done with the fingerprints. Mr. Dove will be staying until Mr. French is apprehended."
"OK. I'll be right back!"
"Thank you, Bae."
Rumplestiltskin was now immeasurably grateful that he'd left the cup at the shop. He knew he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from going after Maurice if the man had taken it.
And that would have been disastrous. Clearly, Regina had told Maurice about the cup (and possibly the dagger, although Rumplestiltskin dearly hoped that she herself was still unaware of it), and told him to look for it specifically. She was hoping to get a reaction out of him, to verify if he was awake or possibly even get a hold of Bae if Rumplestiltskin was foolish enough to get himself arrested. Rumplestiltskin could not let that happen; Bae was everything.
So he would hold his temper. He would cooperate with Emma, grease Spencer and Herman however he had to, and let the 'justice system' take care of Moe. Belle deserved better, but it was the best Rumplestiltskin could do when he had Bae to think of. Belle would have understood. Would probably have been happy about it, in fact; she hadn't liked the Dark One's pursuit of vengeance any more than Bae had. They would have loved each other; it just wasn't fair.
Had Maurice been kinder - had Rumplestiltskin not been such a coward - they could have been a family, the three of them. Bae could have had a real mother. Belle would have… Stop. Stop dwelling on it. She's gone. He'll never get to meet her. No magic can bring back the dead.
Rumplestiltskin threw himself into cataloguing the missing items. He would see to it that Moe was held accountable for every dusty knick-knack, every worthless trinket. They didn't matter in the least bit to Rumplestiltskin, but dollar amounts did matter when it came to pressing charges. Rumplestiltskin sincerely hoped that Moe had at least had the decency to steal valuable pieces.
When Bae came back downstairs to tell Rumplestiltskin which rooms had been rifled through, he thanked his boy then told him to fix himself some lunch. "Do you want anything?" Bae asked.
"No, thank you, Bae."
"You sure?"
"Yes, Bae."
The boy sighed. "Should I ask Emma and Mr. Dove if they want anything?"
Rumplestiltskin tried to smile. "Emma has gone after Mr. French, but feel free to ask Mr. Dove, although he will likely decline as well."
"OK."
Some time later, Rumplestiltskin's cellphone rang. "What did you find, Sherriff Swan?"
"You were right, Gold; I found Moe at his house, along with the stolen goods. Let me know when you finish that inventory, so I can verify that everything's here."
"Very good. I trust you have him in custody?"
"Oh yeah. He confessed everything, and didn't even put up a fuss when I put the cuffs on. My next call is to the DA."
"Very good, Sheriff Swan, thank you."
"You're welcome. And keep an eye on Bae; this kind of thing can be scary for a kid."
"I'm aware, Sheriff Swan. Rest assured, Bae is always my first priority."
"Good. Call me when you have that list."
"I will. Goodbye, Emma."
"Bye, Gold."
Well, there was that, at least. With a confession, conviction was that much more assured. Unless, of course, Spencer got it in his head to offer a plea bargain. Rumplestiltskin would give Emma just time enough to make her call, and then he would call the DA himself, just to make sure that there would be no sentence reduction on offer. He'd be calling Herman too; he did not want Moe out on bail. Rumplestiltskin knew that if he ran into the man on the street, the encounter would end with his cane coming down on Moe's skull. No, better that he be locked away, even if it wasn't a fraction of what the man deserved.
Maybe I'll even be able to sleep tonight, knowing he's behind bars.
Unlikely.
Indeed. Midnight saw Rumplestiltskin climbing into his Cadillac and speeding to the shop to retrieve the cup. He hated leaving Bae alone in the house, but he needed to know the cup was safe.
It was.
He was back by 12:20, Bae still asleep upstairs. He went through all the motions; shutting out the lights, brushing his teeth, changing into silk pajamas - only to spend the night alone in his room, in the dark, weeping over the cup.
An empty heart. She was right.
Bae should be enough. Why isn't he enough?
Well, nobody ever said Rumplestiltskin wasn't a greedy son-of-a-bitch.
