Mr. Gold smiled to himself. The time in the woods with Marie had set him on course. She was once again afraid that her current circumstances could soon change for the worse. She would give way, in time.

He smiled recollecting Regina's expression after their last meeting by her newly mangled tree. Her eyes widened and her lips curved downward, illustrating her flustered state when he uttered, "Please." Chucking the apple as he left was just to further prove his point; he was indeed in control of Storybrooke—in control of her.

And oh, how Mr. Gold had longed to have this power. He knew that the cane, his feigned feebleness, and his calm demeanor led others to reveal too much to him in their overly emotional responses. Indeed, his silky tone and sharp glances were enough to push anyone's buttons while he remained entirely at ease. Why he had never thought of using elegance and manners before to achieve his every whim was beyond him.

It worked wonders in this world.

As he slowly turned the lock, closing his shop for the night, he glanced down the sidewalk. He thought he had heard something. Unsure, he continued locking it and walked off as if heading towards his estate.

The blond woman was soon inside his shop. Somehow she had discovered the safe behind the painting. He almost laughed: how on earth would she open it?

"Ashley, what are you doing?" The smooth voice caused the young woman to jump.

Before he reacted to the thief, Mr. Gold found himself sprawled on the ground with burned eyes, a headache, and a pregnant woman running off with his property.

…

When Marie came into work, Mr. Gold was already there straightening up the shop. A few antique pieces were broken on the floor, including a mostly shattered glass rose.

"What happened?" Marie set down her copy of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Her contemplation of a modern/contemporary figure being sent into a different time period would have to wait. She was saddened by the destruction of her prized trinket.

The dusty haired man picked up the rose's only surviving piece—its red bud; the stem and leaves were unsalvageable glass shards on the floor.

"You can keep this." He handed it to her, before straightening up, and walking to his desk. "Well, it seems we've had a break in."

She met his gaze—his dark, deep-set eyes made her chest tighten.

"Sir, I didn't—"

"Marie, please. I know you had nothing to do with it… It was merely a distraught woman." His response was riddled with deep reflection.

She let out a sigh of relief and grabbed the broom and dustbin. Mr. Gold took something from the top drawer.

"Who was it?" She asked.

"I do not think that information important, for her sake. I do not plan on pressing charges."

Marie thought it sounded kind. What had she been after? Mr. Gold made his way towards the door.

"Oh. Okay. Where are you going?" She called after him.

"I need to recover what was taken. Keep the shop open while I'm away, dearie."

She nodded, watching him go, curious as to what had been stolen. So far, she could not tell anything had been taken. She kept sweeping up the broken pieces on the floor.

…

Rumpelstiltskin stood in the rose covered garden, taking a swig from his metal flask, waiting for Cinderella to come his way.

She was coming with her silly enchanted quill and pre-drawn contract. That she thought it was enough to stop his unfolding plans made him cackle as she approached. He would simply claim more from her than she would ever have agreed to freely. He would take her Thomas, and no one would ever be able to suspect him from the safety of his prison.

What's more, he knew that he would eventually aide the Evil Queen in releasing the curse "to end all curses," he would learn the name of Snow White's precious child, and he would have a third deal to make the temporary stay in his cell much more bearable.

Indeed, as the blond approached, the gold-skinned man couldn't help but smirk, murky eyes glaring into the future. Everything was going perfectly.

…

A few nights after the break in, Marie went to check on her father.

"Good night, papa."

She walked to his bedside; horror met her there. He was not breathing.

"Papa!" She quickly grabbed the bedside phone and dialed 9-1-1.

She remembered everything in a haze. The ambulance came. They shocked his chest, inserted a ventilation tube, and wheeled him out of the house. There was a siren despite the close proximity of the small town's medical facility. She sat there, beside the navy blue dressed men and women who were trying to revive her father; she could only hold his hand and wish and watch.

He went into surgery, and she waited.

Late in the morning, they returned her beloved papa to his room in the hospital, but he was unconscious. The doctors still would not tell her anything.

Mid afternoon, finally, a doctor came to speak to her.

"Can we go outside, Miss Dupont?"

She nodded, following the white-coated woman.

"Your father had a heart attack. We had to do emergency heart surgery. We wanted to wait until we had a clear prognosis before discussing things with you."

Marie's world was being torn apart, and the slender, dark haired woman before her seemed intent on watching the carnage.

"What things?" She was tired. They hadn't told her anything. And this was about her father, her papa. The damned woman needed to get on with it.

"Well… he will need to stay here for a while, indefinitely. We're afraid of moving him. And there is the matter of his medication…and insurance."

There it was. The same fucking thing. Each time her life got worse, the wicked green stuff had its hands all over it. She needed money and she had none. She was screwed.

"Keep him in the hospital for now. I will…work something out." Despite the exhaustion, her resolve was growing. She would find away. She had made it work so far. She could do this. She had to.

"Miss, unless you have the right papers within a few days, we cannot keep him here."

Marie stared with more hatred than she thought possible at the woman who had just recently saved her father. "Then he would die?" Her tone full of disbelief.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Dupont. We will talk to our financial department about the possibility of a loan. We will do whatever we can." The doctor gave a small, less than reassuring smile.

The fact that the blasted place had a financial department almost made her laugh bitterly. Instead, she nodded, "Thank you. Good day."

The doctor took the hint and left.

Marie felt tears coming to her eyes. The weight of the situation was eating her from the inside out. She was completely alone.

…

"Oh, let's just say, you'll owe me a favor." Mr. Gold's hair hung in his face as he stared down Storybrooke's newest guest, Emma.

"Deal." The determination in the blond's eyes made him grin.

"Grand." He watched as the woman walked away to deliver the good news to Ashley. All of these twists and turns were becoming all too fun.

He heard a very familiar voice, "Thank you. Good day." Mr. Gold turned to look and saw a distraught Marie standing outside of a hospital room. He had wondered why she was not at work, but considering he had other matters to attend to, had just let it go.

It was indeed his lucky day.

Leaning into his cane, he walked over to her. At first, she did not see him. Soon, however, tear filled eyes registered the coming figure.

"What's wrong, my dear?" He looked empathetic. Understanding. Comforting.

Marie did not hesitate. Soon, she was hugging him, crying into his shoulder. Mr. Gold slowly brought his free arm around her back, rubbing gently.

"Shhh." He said quietly in her ear. He let her cry for some time before speaking.

"Come now, Miss Dupont, what has happened?" He asked gently.

Marie took a step back, and looked at him as if she just realized what she had done. She felt slightly horrified at the fact that she had cried on his nice black suit. The man was, after all, always so well kept. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gold." She took in a few deep breaths, attempting to collect herself.

"No need, dearie. Now tell me, is it your father?"

She nodded again. Mr. Gold wondered how fortunate he would be.

"He had a heart attack." Her countenance fell.

Fantastic!

"Oh, poor child." He looked down at her, eyes dark and full of pity. "Take a few days off. You should be with him. I hope he is alright."

Marie hugged Mr. Gold again, temporarily forgetting all the wrongs he had ever done to her and her father. For now, he was being generous and she would accept his kindness.

"Thank you, Mr. Gold."

He let a soft chuckle escape; his dimples take their places beside the smirk on his thin lips.

"Whatever I can do, Marie."

Everything was going perfectly.