Gold shifted his weight uneasily outside Milah's door. He hadn't texted her before approaching the inn, he didn't know for sure if the was in the room but he had banked on it. Milah hated Storybrooke. Her annual return wasn't coming home for her, it wasn't coming back to touch base with the few friends still in town that she'd left behind in her leaving, it wasn't taking a drive past all the old sites of memory to see the changes that had taken place in the time she'd been gone.

The woman come back for one thing, one thing only.

Milah returned for Baelfire.

Decades ago, she and Gold had made a promise, nothing short of a blood-pact; so long as they were able, they would meet on their son's death. Baelfire deserved no less in death, given that his life was meant to be so much more. Their son hadn't lasted a decade in the world, so his parents would spend every year, every decade following in remembrance of him.

Gold cleared his throat at hearing movement on the other side of the door, and stood up straighter as Milah opened the door. She graced him with a crooked smile, though her eyes were red, bright with tears.

"Milah, what's happened?"

The woman shrugged and crossed her arms, bringing further attention to how thin she'd become this winter. He scowled. Killian ought to be looking after her, making sure she ate her way back to a healthy weight.

She stepped aside to let him into the room and Gold strode forward, passing the kitchenette where Belle was hiding and coming to stand in the center of her room, between the bed and the sofa. He glanced at her suitcase and then his eyes fell of her copy of Modern Bride.

Gold smirked at it. "Getting a head start, eh?"

Despite everything that Milah had had to relive with Belle only moments ago, Milah let herself smile. He was on to her, she never could hide from him. "You could say that. I sent our divorce agreement on to Killian's man in London. He's already e-mailed me, said it's as good as done. I'll be a June bride this time around."

"Hmph. June's overrated. You made a perfect winter bride." Gold said, only half-teasing. He wanted Milah happy and he knew Killian would take care of her, he had been for years. It was only...he didn't want her to be happier with Killian than she'd been with him, before the fire. Petty, possessive and irrational, but Gold never claimed to be a good man.

Milah pursed her lips, remembering their wedding. They'd been young and in love and had sunk nearly all their money into a beautiful December wedding. And it had been so beautiful, from the ceremony to the reception to the honeymoon and everything that had followed - they had had a beautiful life together.

But that was the past.

"Don't worry, love. I won't let Killian give me a better wedding than you did." Milah reached over and tussled his hair. She liked it long, though she knew the reason he'd grown it out. "We've already decided on a small destination wedding in the Bahamas."

"Any regrets?" Gold asked, cocking an eyebrow, baiting her.

"Regrets?"

"That you didn't put any demands down for alimony." The man shrugged, paging through her magazine. "Hell, the money might have paid for your wedding. Oh, this would look nice on you."

Milah sidled up to look over his shoulder at the dress he'd pointed out. A pretty lace sheath with a low sweetheart neckline. Lovely, but not for her. So strange, this, to be with her first husband, her first love, thinking of the dress she would wear in her second wedding, whilst staying in the town they'd raised their son, her only child...and all while her first husband's second love was still in the kitchenette trying to clear her eyes.

"I'm not sure I care for that neckline."

"Because of your scars? They've never bothered Hook."

Milah swatted his shoulder. "You know he hates that nickname. Besides, I am a modest girl from a good Catholic family, so showing even a hint of cleavage is out of the question." Milah said primly, teasing him.

Gold tossed the magazine aside and gave her a sly smile. "It wasn't so out of the question when we met, lass. You with your low tops was half the reason I came round to see you in the first place."

"My charming personality wasn't enough?"

"First it was the cleavage and then it was that you liked the Rangers when all the other birds were for the Celtic." Gold teased back at her.

This felt good, this easiness between them. For so long it had been vicious poison, and then a cold civil detatchment. It had taken them years to become friends again. Now, they would do anything for each other.

Including help mend the rift with his new love.

"You can come out now." Milah called out.

Gold raised a brow. He'd thought she was alone. "Killian's here?"

"Not exactly."

Gold's eyes widened as Belle stepped out of the kitchenette, approaching them. Immediately, dread flooded him - his wife and his lover in the same room. How long had they been together? What had been said between them?

He glanced to the window at his back, wondered if the fall to the street below would be enough to kill him before the women could.

But looking back to her, Belle didn't appear upset - or, not with him. She had been crying, he could see that and his heart grew tight. He furrowed his brow, confused, wary of her. "Belle. The note you left - I'd thought you'd wanted your time alone, gone back to your flat."

Belle shook her head, wringing her hands together. She had crossed a line, coming here and speaking with Milah. The knowledge she had now, it hadn't been her right to know any of it. She had acted from a place of entitlement, regretting her choice to see Milah almost immediately but their conversation had escalated so quickly, it'd been an avalanche of painful history.

She barely remembered the note she'd scribbled out for him. She held out her hand, reaching for her love. "I know. I'm sorry. I just...I wanted to meet her."

Milah crossed her arms. "She came to me for answers."

Gold scowled at his wife, his brows drawing together. "What have you told her, Milah?"

Belle's hand still hovered in the air, reaching, hoping for him.

Milah was unapologetic, ignoring his frown. She'd seen Gold at his absolute worst; he may be unhappy with her now for sharing their past, but she was damned if she was going to cower at his flash of mood. "I told her everything. Every last black piece of it. This little thing just showed up at my door wanting answers and I maybe told more than I should have, but you didn't leave her much choice, did you?"

Gold met Belle's eyes, looking to her as he answered Milah's question. "No, I didn't. And I'm sorry for that."

He reached to touch her hand, taking it into his own. Relief flooded through Belle. It wasn't over.

"You can be a sorry sod. But a good man, at the heart of it." Milah scoffed. For her part, the woman felt wrung out. The morning had been so heavy, she wanted reassurance and to reassure in turn. She just...she needed a break from the pain.

Gold huffed at that, "Oh, I'm a sorry sod? That's perfect, this is just what I need, two hens pecking at me now."

Despite all this, Belle felt her lips quirk in a small smile. There was a warmth here, between Gold and Milah. It showed in their teasing. It was a warmth born of true love and friendship - these two people were bonded by a past that Belle could never touch, but Gold placed his future in her hands.

Belle tightened her grip on his hand, squeezing his fingers.

"Don't be a nonce." Milah snapped at him. "This isn't about you or me or her. The winter has only ever been about Baelfire. She says she loves you. Do you love her?" She asked suddenly.

Gold's answer was immediate. Again, he answered Milah's question but his eyes were locked with Belle's. "Yes."

"Then fix this." Milah commanded. "I'll be damned if I'm the wedge between you and finally finding some happiness."

"How can I fix this?" This he asked of both the women.

"Talk. I know it hurts, but finally talking is what saved my life in Lochdubh, and it saved my relationship with Killian."

Gold hung his head, shamed by his wife's wisdom. She knew. She knew because she had lived through the tragedy with him and she'd forged a life for herself across the sea. He had to do as Milah had done, and find the strength to bring down the last of his walls.

It's what Belle deserved. It's what he deserved.

Still, he felt unbalanced, here in Milah's room. He had fought against being vulnerable for so long, burying himself in his work - dealing and crafting contracts and building up his influence and control over the town, embracing it when angry tenants called him a monster to his face and worse behind his back.

It had been his only way to maintain control over his life after everything he'd cared about had been ripped away. The man took a deep breath. Whatever Milah had told Belle, he knew that he would still need to talk about this with her, answer what questions she may still have for him...but not just yet and not here.

They needed fresh air, a change of scenery. "Can we talk over coffee downstairs?"

Milah cocked a brow at him, "You buying?"

"Don't I always?"

"Big man." Milah nodded. "I'll get my coat."

Belle bit her lip, stifling her first laugh of the day.


The cold air outside the inn room was bracing and felt so refreshing to Belle and Milah both. The women took several deep breaths of it, enjoying the cold air against their hot faces and swollen eyes. "Oh, that feels good." Milah said, voicing Belle's thoughts.

For his part, Gold wasn't sure what to say to either one of the women. What could he say to explain himself? There weren't enough apologies for Belle and Milah looked ready to twist the knife as soon as they were alone - she could be as vindictive as he, when the mood struck.

Still, for now he could enjoy this strange camaraderie that Milah and Belle had seemed to find while he'd been none the wiser. He lagged a few steps behind while Belle told Milah of her work at the library and Milah in turn told her of the film she'd be working on in Boston after she'd finished her time in Storybrooke.

Stepping into the diner, Gold noted the look that passed between Belle and Ruby, but he chose not to comment on it as they took a table. Choosing wisely, Gold sat next to Belle rather than across from her, and was rewarded with her hand coming over his on the table. An unconscious signal for everyone to see that he was claimed.

It was not Ruby who came for their order, but another of the waitresses. Belle ordered a bagel with cream cheese as a sort of brunch, while Gold was still full from Henry's breakfast and so only ordered a coffee for himself. Milah didn't order anything, she just sipped at her water.

"No lunch, Milah?" Gold prodded.

"No. My appetite's gone off. You know how I get."

All too well.

Gold nodded. "Yes. You still need to eat."

"Look after yourself. Or better yet have this one do it," Milah gestured to Belle. "She looks up to the job."

"I try. He fights me every step of the way." Belle said quietly, her voice subdued despite the small smile touching her lips.

"No way around that, the man's as stubborn as he is sly." Milah said after a sip. "You'll either have to bully or bait him into accepting help."

"I've had to do both."

Gold scowled at his women when they shared a laugh at him. "Stop comparing notes, I'm not all that bad."

Both Belle and Milah looked at him with cocked brows and amused smirks. He didn't like that. At all.

"Oh, yes you are. Or, you can be, when you want to be. Bae was like that." Milah finished, lowering her eyes, remembering.

"He was." Gold agreed. "Stubborn and wild. I told Belle about that time he went digging for worms before school."

Milah rubbed her face, her eyes bright. "God! I'd almost forgotten that. Yes, our little man disappeared just after I'd had him dressed - in a new white shirt, mind - for his pictures and he comes clomping back into the house, muddy as a pig from digging in the yard!"

Belle smiled. "He also told me about the tree - how Baelfire climbed up when no one else would, all to impress some girl."

"Yes! Our wee monkey climbed to the near top of that tree - he ought to have stayed up there and saved himself from the spanks I gave that boy. I was just done in by the time he'd come down. True and done with it, I was." Milah laughed.

Gold joined in, "You'd gone to the neighbors to tell them off after their girl put out that dare, remember that?"

"Aye. I was so upset they couldn't understand my accent. It took me four tries before they knew I was trying to give them a piece of my mind, four!"

"He was sorry to have upset us but not for climbing that tree." Gold said. "He told me, he said, 'If I didn't climb it, no one would have. I had to try!' But that was Bae, always had to be the first in everything. He would have made a name for himself in business."

"Or as a doctor." Milah put in.

"Or a chef." Suggested Gold, thinking of Henry from that morning.

"Or a lawyer, like his father."

"No. He would have been the greatest footballer the Rangers had ever known."

At that, finally at an impasse, Milah and Gold agreed.

They clinked their water glasses to Baelfire Gold, their lost boy.

Gold sighed. Their time was running out. They could all feel it. "Are you ready? One last look?"

Milah took another sip of her water and echoed his sigh. This is how it always was. Sadness and clawing memories and bittersweet laughter.

"I am. One last look to Baelfire and then that's the end of it."