If Any Would Avenge
Chapter 25: Nemo Me Impune Lacessit

Five Nights Ago: Gold's and Belle's House

Kneeling beside Belle's unconscious form, Fortunato paused a moment, his scarlet gaze tracing over the dying beauty's face and neck. It lingered there a moment before he, without much thought, touched the back of Belle's neck. As he did so the scarab-skull mark on his tanto glowed, and when he removed his hand an identical mark was left behind on the woman's neck. Seconds later it disappeared. "This'll likely end up being useless, but…." He shrugged, the next moment teleporting away in a cloud of ash and dust.

x

Present: Gold's Shop

"...interesting." Fortunato muttered, his scarlet eyes full of intrigue as he entered the pawnshop, following after Belle. Nearing the backroom, he grew more cautious with each step, his eyes peeled for any hindrance or trap. The scent of blood tickled his nose, whetting his hunger and he quietly noted the small swathes of blood staining the hardwood floor. His lips curved into a crooked smile upon reaching the doorway to the backroom and discovering that it wasn't warded.

His eyes gleamed in the sparsely lit room and he leered at Belle, a Cheshire smile on his face that made his fangs much more prominent. Standing in the doorway, he simply watched the woman staring at her hands in shock. The gilded scarab-skull mark on either hand highly visible.

"...When I marked you five nights ago, I never expected you would actually succumb." Fortunato crooned, his interruption having the expected effect of causing Belle to flinch and jump back. Her eyes darted towards each of the cabinets and drawers, searching for some sort of protection magical or non-magical. But ignoring the obvious. He chuckled, and took a few steps closer. "It's too late to resist. Nemesis' mark is…."

"Stay away!" Belle shouted, holding her arms against her chest and trying to ignore the power imbuing them from the scarab-skull markings. It was lulling, the power, and it took all her willpower to resist its pull. Fortunato being so close only made it worse; his presence riled up her anger and hate for those who killed her family. She wanted to make them hurt, make them pay. Fortunato and his cohort, and anyone else who aided the assassin. Even those who simply failed to protect Gideon, she wanted to hurt. Her gut burned with anger.

"...why resist? Nemesis…."

Belle raised her head and glared at Fortunato, her brilliant blue eyes livid. Her fingers started tingling and before she could stop herself, she threw a magic blast at the assassin, shoving him against one of the cabinets. The impact was loud, and as she watched both Fortunato and many of the objects held on the shelves tumbled to the floor, something snapped in her. Anger more severe than ever she'd felt before filled her, and she once more used the power coursing through her from the skull-scarab marking. This time she used it to push and hold Fortunato against the wall; she held him there, denying him any movement while she approached him.

When she was just one stride away, her other hand tingled and a shortsword materialized within it. Her fingers wrapped snugly around its leather covered hilt, as though it was made just for her. Its silver blade shone from the magic imbuing it, powered by her anger and pain. "You…." She seethed, glowering at Fortunato. "You killed my father. Attacked me. Killed…." Her lips trembled, remembering the bite of the assassin's blade when he stabbed her hours ago. "Killed my chi...children."

"Kidd killed Gid…."

"No!" Belle snarled, silencing Fortunato. "Your partner may have been the one to…." Her breath caught, thinking about Gideon, crushed and bruised and cold, after the crash. "...but you, you ordered the blood price. You planned to kill me and any child I had, didn't you?! Just to get back at my father."

Fortunato opened his mouth to respond only to be choked back into silence by Belle, who magically held him in place even as part of her struggled to resist the urge to squeeze his throat. Or to stab him with the silver shortsword.

"Because of you, I've lost my family." Spat Belle, her chin and lips trembling, and her eyes filled with unshed tears. Struggling against the darkness spreading its poison and magic through her, she grasped the hilt of the shortsword clumsily and nearly dropped it once or twice. Her thoughts focused on her family - within the span of a week, she'd lost them all.

Only her husband remained. But he, she realized with a heavy heart, was likely already slipping back into darkness as he was wont to do in midst of grief and anger. It came so naturally for him, and if she were honest with herself, she envied him that at the moment. Sinking into darkness, letting it consume her and free her from the burden of conscience - even if just for a moment - she longed for that choice.

'Who says you don't have that choice?' A voice spoke in her head - her own voice, though with an edge to it. 'Who says you can't make that choice? That you can't be selfish and make someone else pay?' Belle flinched, listening to the voice; her chest tightened and the marks on her palms burned fiercer. Their venomous magic pulsing through her. So too did the one on the back of her neck, hidden beneath her chestnut hair. 'Why are you trying so hard to be good, when the man you love can sink so far into darkness and do nearly anything, and still be forgiven?' The voice continued, becoming more beguiling as the marks pulsed. 'It's not like he'd love you less if you make the selfish choice. He'd probably like you more.' Belle sucked in a breath and bit hard down on her lip, trying to ignore the voice. 'Especially if you dissect this bastard here.' The voice growled, referring to Fortunato. Unable to move or speak, the assassin simply watched Belle, watched as the silent battle waging inside her played out on her face. 'Rumplestiltskin would readily do it himself the moment he has the chance. Why not do it for him? Crush this vermin before you. This child killer. Crush him.'

'Crush him.' The voice repeated and before Belle knew it she was inches from Fortunato, the silver shortsword readied to stab the assassin. She thrust it down, her heart racing in anticipation of plunging through the bastard's flesh, but she stopped just before the sword touched Fortunato's skin. Her gaze locking on an object knocked onto the floor. A book. 'What are you doing? Crush….'

"No." Belle whispered, defying the voice's command, but not out of goodness. Instead something else stopped her hand and caused her cerulean eyes to gleam in cold delight. Her eyes roaming over the book: a collection of stories and poems by Edgar Allan Poe that she had borrowed from the library weeks ago. "Fortunato. Of course." She muttered, shifting her gaze away from the floor and back to the assassin, a small smirk forming on her face. 'I don't have to kill for revenge….'

0000000000000000000000000000

The nursery was quiet as Emma placed Sadie into her crib, one of the few pieces of finished furniture in the only half furnished room. The only other fully assembled pieces of furniture were a small dresser with a padded top to make it double as a changing table and an almost empty toy shelf, which she had only started to decorate with stuffed toys. Everything else she and Killian had planned to place in the room was still in boxes or at the store, neither of them having considered their daughter would be born early.

Especially not nearly five months early.

"I love you." Emma whispered and kissed Sadie on the forehead, smiling as her daughter immediately fell asleep. It wouldn't last the whole night, but she was thankful that the five day old wasn't fussy upon being placed in the crib. Unlike the first night being home from the hospital and then the first night after Killian's arrest. Both nights Sadie had fussed and bawled, refusing to sleep until the early morning. "Your daddy will be coming home soon." She smiled again and sighed, turning on the baby monitor before leaving the room.

With everything that had happened earlier in the day and the truths that had been uncovered, Killian was sure to be freed from jail. Regina had said as much before Emma had gone to check on Sadie after Snow's messaging about a stranger suddenly showing up. All that was needed was to make sure Killian was protected against Nemesis, and that Gold knew the truth about who was responsible for Gideon's death.

As she closed the door to the nursery, Emma sighed and glanced towards her and Killian's bedroom. Every since Killian's arrest, she'd been reluctant to sleep in it despite it being the closest room to the nursery – being in it only made her more keenly aware of her husband's absence. An absence that would thankfully soon be ended, and hopefully never be repeated. Leaning against the nursery door, she continued to stare wistfully at her bedroom door before closing her eyes and listening to the quiet murmurings from downstairs. Her parents, aware and understanding of the stress she was under, especially after Killian's arrest, had offered to stay over to help her out with Sadie. Emma had initially been reluctant to accept the help, mostly due to her father's criticism of Killian and his involvement in the crash that killed Gideon. Tonight though, she was glad to have her family over.

'Is it right for me to be happy?' Emma sighed, grimacing as she thought of Belle and how much the chestnut haired librarian had lost. Not just Gideon, but also her father and an unborn child. Emma couldn't begin to imagine how devastated Belle must be, losing just one loved-one would've been awful in any circumstance but losing three, two of which were children...that was just more than anyone should ever bear. And it made her despise the Nemesis assassins even more. 'Hopefully, Regina gets all the information she needs from Kidd to stop Nemesis and whoever was behind the hit.'

"...Emma?" Snow interrupted her daughter's thoughts, ascending the stairs quietly enough that Emma hadn't heard her.

"Yeah?" Emma replied, keeping her voice low and stepping a bit from the nursery door so not to wake Sadie. "What is it?"

"I..." Snow faltered, mulling over what she wanted to say. Her gaze shifted from her daughter towards Sadie's nursery, and it was then that Emma noticed the paper in her mother's hand. The letter that Emma had received from the hospital that afternoon, which she had hidden away in a random drawer after reading.

"Mom, what the hell?!" Emma hissed and snatched the letter from Snow White's hands. "You're snooping around through my things? Seriously?"

"I'm sorry. Your brother's going through a curiosity phase and poking into everything he can reach. He found that." Snow explained, waiting a moment to gauge her daughter's reaction before continuing. "He couldn't really read it of course, so he showed it to me and..."

"And you read it."

Snow nodded, feeling briefly upset by the angry glare Emma gave her, but shaking it off. "According to that letter, you were very sick that day and..."

"Mom." Emma glowered at her mother, not wanting to discuss the letter or anything concerning that day. Not even the reason she wasn't with Killian to help watch Gideon that day. "I'm fine now. So just..."

"I know. I know. I just..." Snow drew in a deep breath, her eyes growing moist slightly before she swallowed and continued. "I just want to be sure you're all right. You and Sadie..." She glanced wistfully at the nursery, her heart twinging at the thought reading the letter had brought. "With everything that has happened these last few days, I can't bear the thought that...you were sick enough to nearly...and you didn't even mention it."

"I'm fine. Mom. All right? It was just a really bad cold or flu..." Reassured Emma, her frustration at being confronted by her mother about the letter lessened seeing how upset the other woman was.

"You collapsed, Emma." Snow countered, not appreciating her daughter downplaying the severity of her illness. Even if it was an attempt to make her be less worried. "That was the reason you were at the hospital five days ago. And the reason Killian drove despite drinking..." She faltered when Emma bristled and crossed her arms protectively in front of her, the expression spreading over her daughter's face all she needed to understand the truth. "Oh. You blame yourself. You were sick and so..." Snow muttered and sighed, the next moment shaking her head. "It's not your fault, Emma."

"Isn't it?" Emma snapped. "If I hadn't been sick that day, I would've been with Killian watching Gideon. We would've stood home and not have driven anywhere. The acci..." She bit her tongue, about to refer to the crash as an accident that they now knew was anything but. "If I'd been home, I could've prevented Gideon dying...either by stopping Kidd or healing Gideon. I..."

"Emma. It's not your fault." Snow reassured her daughter, pausing between each word to emphasize them. "Kidd was determined and...there's no one to blame but him. And whoever hired him and his fellow assassins."

"I know, but I can't help feeling..." Emma wiped her eyes, swallowing back the sobs threatening to close her throat. "That's not even what's really frustrating and upsetting..." She took in a deep breath, steadying herself. "I was...sick enough I could've lost Sadie. No one at the hospital realized it though, not until after Gold attacked me. I was actually being discharged when Killian called, frantic about Gideon. I..." She covered her mouth and glared darkly at the letter from the hospital, which aside from containing a summary and explanation of her test results that day, contained a curt apology from the physician she'd seen instead of Dr. Whale. "If...Gideon hadn't...Gold wouldn't have attacked me and...I would've been sent home and could've..."

"Oh, Emma." Snow pulled Emma into an embrace, comforting her daughter.