***
Gepetto was sitting at his workbench, his parents sleeping. But his conscience was too weighed down to sleep. He had failed them over and over. And they just didn't know it yet. They were supposed to have raised him to use his talents wisely. Gepetto was sure that nothing he had done in the last 60 years had been wise.

Two figures were approaching in the distance carrying something in a blanket. Gepetto looked up and stood. In the beam of his porchlight, he could see that it was two of the dwarves, Doc and Sneezy.
And in the blanket between them, was Pinocchio. A very wooden Pinocchio. Gepetto put his fist to his mouth to muffle a cry.
Doc gently set down the blanket on an empty workbench. Gepetto hadn't felt much like carving recently.
Geppetto stood wordlessly staring at further proof of his eternal failure.
"He was brave and honest and he died a man." Doc offered. "He carried Henry all the way out of the mines, to save his life. Even as the Black Diamond took away the magic that made him real, he kept walking."
Gepetto nodded to show he had heard him, but he couldn't form any sort of thought.
He merely just sunk to his knees and sobbed.

Doc bowed slightly. "Jiminy is on his way. We had Dopey wake him." He sighed. "We must get our rest. Tomorrow, well, in a few hours really, a group of us are headed out to rescue Emma. We need our rest if we are to stay strong against the darkness. We hope that you will join us."
Gepetto said nothing, just continued to sob.
Doc bowed out and Sneezy nervously following, glancing back at Gepetto one last time.

Gepetto sobbed until he had not only woken his parents, but Jiminy had arrived 10 minutes later, running at full speed, his dog on a leash and a flashlight in his hand.

Gepetto's parents said nothing at seeing Jiminy, seeing that he was comforting their grown son.
They just stood and watched from the doorway.
"Rumplestiltskin was right, a little piece of wood, could form a real heart." Gepetto sobbed. " And he was a much better man, than me."
Gepetto held his son's wooden hand. "I'm sorry I failed you as a father. I was selfish, cowardly and dishonest. I made you as a boy, try to do a man's job."

"You gave him a purpose." Jiminy offered. "A purpose to strive for. Someone to care for, to love."
Gepetto shook his head. "I gave him what I had hated you for years for. The loss of my parents. I flung him from my arms, to raise not only himself, but a little baby. He was only 7. No wonder he hated me. I wasn't dead. To him, I as good as abandoned him on the side of the road with Emma."

"I don't think he hated you." Jiminy consoled him.
Gepetto shook his head. "Why wouldn't he?" He wiped tears from his face.
"Because he did what you asked. Not only as a boy, but as a man. He came back here, for Emma." Jiminy offered.

"He was turning back into wood. He came back for himself." Gepetto contested sadly.

There was a long silence.

Gepetto's mother was the first to speak. "Then who did he rescue the little boy for?"
Gepetto turned to look at her. There was only love in her eyes.
She came up her grown son and embraced him, an old man in a young woman's arms.
"I could see you." She murmured.
Gepetto looked up at her curiously, like a little boy. "What?"
"I could see you, the whole time. My eyes were wooden, but I could see you. My ears were wooden, but I could hear you. At first, I was angry that I couldn't interact with you. That you couldn't know I was there still. But you talked to us, like we could hear and see. Like we were real. And my heart couldn't grow bitter. My wooden heart that was still there, that could still feel." Gepetto's mother gave a somber smile.
"You tried to show us these past few days, what you thought we wanted to see. But we know you, Gepetto. We were still there. You've made mistakes, sure. But everyone does. Parents or no parents."
Gepetto's father added to that. "Once you are real, you are always real. Somewhere. You can't take that away. Talk to him. He can't talk back, but he is there."

Gepetto's eyes filled with soothing tears. He turned back towards Pinocchio. He pulled back the ripped and sooty T-shirt underneath his motorcycle jacket. He traced his fingers along the carved heart shape on his chest, right above where a real heart would reside.
"I have magic, Pinocchio. I was a little boy, placed in a home from birth. A home where my magic would be trained to be used for good. As a boy, I couldn't be a fairy. So I was to be taught a trade. I enjoyed working with my hands, carving wood. But I didn't create sculptures and clocks, or even puppets. I transformed things. Never created. You can't create things. One person can't change the world on their own. You can't have life without a second person. I carved you, because I wanted a son. I talked to you for years, as though you were real. But nothing. I had hoped that being made of magical wood, that this would make a difference, but nothing. "

Gepetto paused and collected himself. He wiped away a few tears from his face on his sleeve. "But one day, something did. A young woman had come into my shop. She had requested my, more devious services. As a puppetmaster. She had little to no money, just a magical cloak. She wanted a puppet. I asked for her cloak as payment and she blanched. She told me it was the only thing keeping her a decent person. It wasn't for sale. She was afraid and depressed. She even offered to help deliver things to pay for it."

"She wanted a wolf puppet. I told her that she would have to paint it with the blood of the wolf she wished to control. She wanted it painted in her own blood. I understood then. She was a wolf. She didn't want to control someone else, she wanted to control herself. I gave it to her free of charge. I even helped her paint it. It was the first time I felt like my puppets were serving a greater purpose. That night, I carved this heart into your chest. Because every little boy, needs a heart, I told you."
"That is what makes them men." A rough, gritty sound finished his sentence.
Gepetto eyes' widened. He looked up into his son's face. It was still wooden, but the eyes were moving slowly, looking around. His mouth was open, and turned into a still smile.
"I promised her...father. I promised her I would come back for her." Pinocchio scraped out slowly.
"And you shall not go back on your word. I swear it." Gepetto jumped into action. He began rummaging through his work space.

"I love her, Jiminy." August forced out. "Her and that little boy."
Jiminy Cricket smiled broadly. "I know."
August's eyes stared at him silently, urgently asking what he needed to know.
"Henry is alive." Jiminy sighed. "But he is very wounded. He has lost a lot tonight."

Gepetto emerged carrying a thin wooden box. "I swore when you became real, that I would never use this, but with your permission, I think we can rescue Emma." He opened the box and inside it was two overlapping wooden crosses with strings attached. A lifted in from the box and opened it up letting the detached strings dangle. He tilted the cross back and August shot upright.

"Scary isn't it." Gepetto sighed seeing the panic in Pinocchio's eyes. "This is the kind of power that I once used against kings and thieves alike. This one belongs to you. It only works on you. But if we work together." He gestured to everyone present. "The Heart of Darkness can't mess with all of us."Gepetto placed the wooden controls down in Pinocchio's hands. Their eyes met each other and very slowly August moved his arms, placing the controls back into his father's hands. "You better do a lot better job this time." He rasped.
Gepetto tearfully nodded.

A rustle from the bushes, caused everyone but Pinocchio to turn their head sharply.

It was Red. She was holding a puppet. A wolf puppet. "Granny is watching Henry and James. I heard someone needed help. Henry said the pathways kept changing, that he didn't know how to find Emma again. So I guess you're going to need someone with a good Sense of direction." Red somberly smiled at this and held out the wolf puppet.
"Tomorrow evening is the next full moon. I know you hated being the puppetmaster in battle. But, this gave me purpose once. Please let me do something good again." Red closed her eyes.

Jiminy wrapped his arm around her side and pulled her towards the group. "You, Rose, already have done a lot of good."

Rumplestiltskin entered the chapel. It was over. He had made his one last deal and now the beast was going to destroy him. He had screwed the beast over, every which way, just as he had always imagined, but just not quite the way that he had planned to. And his failings and mistakes were going to haunt him forever.

He had lost Belle, who was so angry with him, that she had refused to acknowledge his existence. He had seen her with a suitcase, walking for the boundaries. She was leaving town now that the Blue Fairy had died and the boundaries were down. Since another one hadn't been chosen yet, this gave her a window and it seemed she was taking it.

He had lost Snow. No physical form left, just a heart. The fact that this made her still alive at all, was not another indicator of her strength of character, just additional torment for those who cared about her.

He had lost Regina too. Sure, she had her one moment of redemption, sacrificing her powers and her remaining life, to spare Henry. An ironic end, to eat an apple like the one which she had offered to Snow once before. Poetic maybe. But there was no one to save her, as there had been for Snow. No true love to awaken her.

Even Emma seemed to be lost. She hadn't ever emerged from the mines and since the beast was very weakened now, but not gone, Rumplestiltskin was sure that she would never emerge. Even though she owned her heart once again, and the beast didn't have claim to her, all it had to do was wrap her in illusions and she would spend the rest of her days down there, unaware what she had lost. It was the beast's one victory. Rumpelstiltskin, who could never enter the mines, would be unable to start things over again.

Henry was mostly alone now, only a broken grandfather to hold him and console him. Henry would fall too. So much loss, there was no way Rumplestiltskin could see him recovering. He would be just like his own son, who had lost a father and a whole world in one instant. A grown man now, who couldn't have possibly turned out well, who was likely to never see his father again. Because his father couldn't say that appearing in his life now, still with magical powers, having destroyed a whole world to get to him, would help him at all.

Rumplestiltskin stared up at the bloody cross that used to bother him so much. He used to hate the idea of suffering being ideal and redemption coming at a high cost. It still did bother him, just not in the same way now. Now that he had greatly suffered, it still didn't feel ideal, but it also still didn't feel enough. He began to weep, loudly. "I give up. You hear me. Whoever, whatever, anybody. I give up. I can't fix it."

The earth seemed to shake below him. Rumplestiltskin grabbed the ground and braced himself. It shook harder than ever before. As it came to a stop, the world around him still trembling, Rumplestiltskin heard a voice.
"You're right. You fail. I told you, you would." A sinister voice came from the back of the room.
Rumplestiltskin turned around and stood. It was Cora. And she was holding a very familiar, crooked dagger. Once again, Rumpelstiltskin was shocked. Seriously, how did they do it?
"You are lucky though. You are about to be relieved of your position." She held the dagger high and lunged at him knocking him to the ground. "Now don't try to escape, Dark One." It was a command. One he couldn't disobey.

Rumplestiltskin's very, very long life, flashed before his eyes. His one and only regret was that this was happening at all. This was not how he saw things ending. Everything had changed. But why?
He looked up into the eyes of his attacker. Cora, his descendent, who was to take his place.
The knife centimeters from his chest.
She had stopped.
Sweat was pouring down her face, dripping onto Rumplestiltskin's face. Cora looked pained, like she was holding back an ocean, by sheer force.
A fragile, whimper was heard over the panting. Not from Cora, who still loomed over him, but from the mirror. The mirror that Rumplestiltskin had done everything in his power, not to look at since he came into the chapel. He had been too afraid to see what it showed him about his own heart.

Painfully, Rumplestiltskin followed Cora's gaze to the mirror. He was below the mirror and not visible. But there were two people in the mirror. A dark shadowy mist seemed to surround both figures. One was clearly Queen Margaret or Maggie, just as he remembered her. Regal and sad. But she was also ill looking and very angry.
At her feet, however was a little girl. One that looked very much like a five year old Cora. It probably was. She was weeping and pulling on Maggie's robes.
"Please," Young Cora was whimpering. "I haven't the strength."
The knife was wavering dangerously close to Rumplestiltskin's chest. He swallowed nervously.
"Help me, just this once, Maggie. I know you're angry with me, you have every right to be."
"Do you know what you are asking of me?" Maggie weakly protested. "What you are going to be doing?"
Young Cora nodded sadly. "I have known for a long time. This is how it must end for us. I could never have done what needed to be done, alone. It was why I bargained for your heart in the first place."
"It must be the thing you love the most." Maggie muttered.
"And I hate myself." Cora growled from the ground, knife wavering.
Then there was a great sigh from Maggie. But it was a sigh of acceptance. Of resignation that there was no other, whiter path left. Only the endless opportunities for more darkness.

Suddenly, the knife began to move again. But instead of continuing its path towards Rumplestiltskin's chest, it turned and sharply changed directions.

The knife, which would have made Cora the next Dark One, was now plunged into her own chest. The blood dripped down onto Rumplestiltskin's face. The beast roared in anger, a violent and terrible growl, angrier than Rumplestiltskin had ever heard, ever. The mist retreated from the mirror and the heaviness from the room.
A pained, but satisfied look came over Cora's face. With her last bit of strength, she flipped to her back and laid beside Rumplestiltskin, the knife still in her chest. Cora ripped the knife from her chest, gasping hard her breathing labored. She reached into her robes and pulled out a slightly spattered envelope that read Regina on the front, and handed it to Rumplestiltskin. She tried to say something, but blood came out of her mouth instead.

So the sobbing little girl in the mirror spoke. "I'm so sorry. I should have never made that deal with that Dark Fairy."
Rumplestiltskin nodded wiping his face with his hand. "So am I. Things got out of hand." He took the bloody dagger from Cora's hand.
The light was fading from Cora's eyes. But a smile was settling on her face.
"Please tell Regina that I'm sorry too." Little Cora added. "That love is weakness. And that I was just too weak."
Rumplestiltskin nodded. She must not know. And Rumplestiltskin was still too cowardly to tell her. Tell her that her daughter was dead, likely permanently, trapped in her own body. "When she is ready to hear it."
Maggie gave Rumplestiltskin what looked like a warning glare, but did not challenge this statement.

Rumplestiltskin frowned however. "Wait, how did you get there, Maggie?" Something had clicked in his mind which was spinning. "How are you in the mirror?"
Maggie met his eyes. "I'm in Cora."
Rumplestiltskin frowned. "Yes, but how? Cora never had the ability to do that, to put your heart in her chest."
Maggie smiled gently. "No, but Emma does."

Rumplestiltskin grinned. That had not happened in the future he saw. That is what had changed. He started to plan how to work around this new change. Maybe things could still work out. He tried gazing into the future. Nothing.
He frowned. He tried a simple spell, an illusion spell. Nothing.
He picked up the bloody dagger on the ground.
He feverishly wiped the blood off with his hand. It was blank.

His eyes widened. He was free. No magic, no darkness. Rumpelstiltskin was a tad disappointed. He had expected something epic, something earth shattering. But he didn't feel any different. Just empty of the ability or the thrall to do magic.
His eyes met Maggie's. "It's gone. Everything."
"Cora swore she would destroy you. You just didn't quite envision it this way, did you?"
Rumplestiltskin stared back up at the crucifix. It was that simple? Someone had to die. Not out of anger, or greed, but out of sacrifice? Sure it wasn't the most noble of sacrifices, but he was not the most noble of men, so what did it matter?

"No more meddling. Let the townspeople work together on this one." Maggie glared. "You'll see."

"I'm scared." The young Cora in the mirror spoke again. She was trembling visibly and she was fading away. But she looked a bit older, maybe 7.
Maggie gentled reached down and picked her up. "Me too. But we will await whatever justice shall come to us, together."
The two of them faded away slowly as Cora's body breathed its last.
And Rumpelstiltskin, the man, stood up and saw nothing in the mirror, but his own reflection.