LVI

"Rum, it's hot in here. Go adjust the thermostat," Belle whined, stuffing another pillow against her aching back so she wouldn't be lying flat in the bed. She was a week overdue and her levels of discomfort varied between outright misery and weepy disdain. It wasn't that it was sweltering in Maine the first week of July, but if you asked her, she'd landed somewhere between the seventh and ninth circles of hell. She was now miserable in every piece of clothing she owned, and her poor husband had taken to buying her new clothes in the hopes she'd find something which would suit her.

His voice was muffled beneath the two quilts piled high over his body next to her. "The thermostat is on fifty, Belle. I can't make it any colder in here," he grumbled, suppressing a violent shiver as he wished he could snuggle next to her for warmth. He was freezing, she was sweating. He wondered if they would ever reach a happy medium. The electric bill was somewhere in the stratosphere now after two weeks of her hot flashes. Even with two heavy winter quilts covering his side of the bed, he was sure he was developing frostbite on his arse.

"My back hurts."

Gold pulled the quilt away from his face and glared at her. "I would be happy to rub your back, Belle, but that would mean I'd have to touch you." Another of her new quirks. She didn't want to be touched. Skin contact set off her hot flashes, touching made her skin hurt, she was tired of not being able to see her feet, tired of not being able to get out of a chair without aid and most importantly of all … not being able to eat anything without belching little puffs of blue smoke.

Belle worried her bottom lip with her teeth and batted her lashes playfully at Gold. "Please, Rum." She scooted closer to him and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. "Pretty, pretty please?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I can't feel my fingers," he teased, tossing off the quilt and drawing her back against him to knead her lower back. By now he knew each and every spot which caused her pain, and he was an expert on how to ease it. "You know I could rid you of this ache with a wee bit of …"

"No magic, Rum. I don't want to use it for every little ache and pain."

He grumbled unintelligibly and nuzzled his cold nose against her neck. "If you're in pain, you should stay home today. I'm certain Emma, Mary Margaret and the wolf girl can do without you just this once."

Belle was scheduled to meet her friends for lunch at the diner to go over the final preparations for the wedding. There were only two short weeks left until Jefferson and Emma said, 'I do' and there was no way she was going to miss it … short of going into labor. "I just hope our baby comes before the wedding, so I don't have to buy a new dress."

His hand left her back to sweep over her belly. "Everything is going to be fine, sweetheart. Dr. Bryan said if you haven't delivered by Monday he was going to induce."

Belle sacrificed her comfort to maintain contact with her husband. She missed being able to lie comfortably in his arms and the loss of contact was putting a strain on them. She was looking forward to their daughter's arrival so she no longer had to keep him at arm's length just so she could be comfortable in her own skin. "Rum?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry I've been so cranky lately. You know I love you, right?"

"Of course, my Belle. That was never in doubt," he assured her as he kissed the shell of her ear.

*.*.*

"Okay, I get the chili and cheese. I can even somewhat understand the jalapeno slices … but mayonnaise?" Emma asked, her nose wrinkled in disgust as she stared down at the plate of French fries Belle was picking at.

Belle smirked. "Surely you had weird cravings when you were pregnant with Henry and now you can't walk by a pickle jar without eating at least two," she said, pointing at the jumbo dill pickle clutched in Emma's hand.

"Yeah, but pickles aren't weird," Emma protested.

Mary Margaret made more notes in her wedding journal and grimaced. "They are when you're dipping them in ketchup."

Emma glared at her mother. "Yeah well, what did you crave when you were pregnant for me?" she asked.

Mary Margaret didn't hesitate, knowing she would surprise her daughter. "Blackberry dumplings."

"Eww. You hate blackberries, all those little tiny seeds getting stuck in your teeth for days no matter how much you floss …"

"Which is why it made it so strange for me to crave them," she smiled wryly.

Belle pushed her half-eaten order of fries to the side and kneaded her back for what seemed like the umpteenth time that morning as Red made her way from behind the counter and sat down next to Mary Margaret. Belle knew that look only too well. It was the one she wore when she had some spicy bit of news to impart.

Red wasn't one to disappoint. "There's a stranger in town. Just checked himself into the B&B." She nodded with satisfaction as a hush fell over the table. Emma set her pickle down and twirled her engagement ring in circles with her thumb.

"No one comes to Storybrooke on purpose," she said, sharing a puzzled look with her friends. "Who is he?"

"Don't know. Granny checked him in. But he sure is nice to look at," Red chuckled, a wicked grin curving her lips.

Mary Margaret sipped at her iced tea and grinned at Red. "You think every man who smiles at you is hot."

"Well, I just haven't been lucky enough to find my true love yet," Red grumbled defensively. "Oooh, look, there he is," she said in a sing song voice under her breath, trying to point him out, but not wanting her actions to be obvious.

The booth they had chosen had Belle and Emma with their backs to the rear entrance of the diner and had them dying of curiosity as Mary Margaret's brows reached skyward. "For once, I'd have to agree with Red. Very nice," she murmured appreciatively.

Belle felt the fine hairs on her arms stand up straight and had to rub her hands over them to rid herself of the sense of magic in the air. Her senses were prickling in alarm and it was hard for her to breathe, almost the same feeling she had when Gold was near, and she could feel him through their bond. The only other person she'd ever felt this strange around was Henry, but with him it was more of a prickle than this odd sense of awareness.

"I am so telling Dad you were scoping out random guys in the diner," Emma said, chuckling at her mother. Mary Margaret had the good sense to blush. Emma couldn't care less that Red had someone new to drool over because none of them could hold a candle to her own fiancé. And then she heard that voice and it felt as though someone had stopped the Earth's rotation only to give it a violent spin to get it restarted.

"Hello, Emma."

*.*.*

Neal dropped his bag at the foot of the bed in the room he'd just rented and retrieved the postcard from the breast pocket of his blazer. Storybrooke's clock tower stared at him from one side. On the other was a single word, broken. The curse which had hidden the town for so many years had finally been lifted and now he had a second chance to find Emma Swan and apologize for everything he'd done to hurt her.

He never should have listened to August in the first place, never should have let Emma go to jail for a crime he'd committed so she would be forced down a path leading her to her destiny. He should have told Boothe to bugger off and run with the woman he loved to the very depths of his soul. He'd be lucky if he could get her to ever speak to him again.

He looked down at the postcard in his hand, creased and lined from wear and tucked it back in his jacket. He wasn't going to find her in his rented room, he thought ruefully and headed for the door.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he smiled warmly at the little brunette behind the counter before leaving the inn. The phone call he'd placed to August hadn't been entirely fruitless. He'd learned Emma was still in town and she had won the position of sheriff. That had come as a bit of a surprise, but hey, who was he to judge? Hopefully, he wouldn't give her a reason to arrest him.

The diner, next to the B&B, was practically empty when he entered the rear door and took in his surroundings. He figured it would be as good as any place to start his search. The sheriff's station had been virtually empty when he'd stopped in earlier to inquire after Emma's whereabouts save for one lone deputy who didn't know of the sheriff's plans for lunch since she'd just arrived for her shift. But he wasn't going to have to search far.

She was there, sitting with friends over lunch. He would recognize her lovely profile anywhere as she turned to speak to the woman sitting next to her, would know the exact shade of her hair, the slight tilt of her head as she listened intently to what was said to her and the same tenseness in her shoulders. The woman still hadn't learned to relax.

Now, all he had to do was find the courage to say hello.

*.*.*

The blood drained from Emma's face, leaving her complexion ashy and waxen as she whirled to face that voice from her past. Red took one look at her and quickly got to her feet. "Everybody out, diner's closed. Just saw a huge rat," she squeaked, holding the door open for the patrons who couldn't seem to make a hasty enough exit.

Mary Margaret and Belle gaped at Ruby and Granny bustled in from the kitchen flaming mad. "Do you know what you just did? Those three are going to spread it all over town that there's a rat in the diner and no one is going to eat here for at least a month. How are we going to pay the rent?" she fumed, swatting her granddaughter with a dish towel.

Emma stared wide-eyed at Neal, unwilling to believe he was really standing there before her. Belle tugged on her hand. "A little help, please," she said, trying to get Emma to snap out of her daze and help her to her feet.

"What the hell are you doing here, Neal?" she asked, helping Belle out of the booth, but her eyes were fixed on him. She paid no heed to Belle herding her friends into the kitchen to give the pair some privacy. She also didn't notice the kitchen door was cracked so they could listen and rush to her aid if needed.

"I came to see you … needed to see you," he explained quickly. "Can we just sit for a minute and maybe talk?"

Emma could feel the panic rising in her chest. This couldn't be happening right now. She was two weeks away from marrying Jefferson, she had a baby on the way and she finally had a good strong relationship with Henry. Henry! Oh, Gods, what was she supposed to tell him? She'd been putting off that discussion forever and now she wasn't going to have a choice but to tell him the truth about his father. Why was it every time she got a glimpse of happiness, her past had to come back to bite her in the ass? She dropped back down into the booth and folded her arms across her chest. Whether it was in anger or to somehow contain her thundering heart within her bosom, she didn't know.

"You have five minutes," she rasped out, clearing her throat awkwardly and narrowing her eyes to glare at him.

Neal fiddled nervously with a napkin which had been left on the table and cringed at her tone. "I know I'm probably the last person you expected or even wanted to see today …"

"Ya think?" she hissed, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"… but if you will let me explain …"

"What's to explain, Neal?! You're going to finally explain how the man I loved set me up to take the rap for a crime he committed, how I was left to go to jail, how …"

Her voice was drowned out by a crash in the kitchen and what sounded like Red saying, "Oh, hell no, he didn't!" before silence once again.

A flash of pain washed over his features and his gaze slid away from her accusing stare. "August said I had to let you go so you could fulfill your purpose for coming to this world. He …"

"YOU LET ME GO TO JAIL BECAUSE PINOCCHIO TOLD YOU TO?!" she railed at him, balling her hands into fists on the table to stop herself from beating the life out of him. "Oh, I'm going to have to introduce puppet man to the sharp side of a hatchet. I can't believe you listened to freaking Pinocchio, Neal."

Neal ran a hand through his short brown hair in frustration. "Emma, he knew things, things no one else in this world knew about me. If he knew who I really was, how could I not believe what he had to say about you?" he asked, his eyes pleading with her to believe him.

"You're from there? Did you know all along who I was, where I was from? Did you play me from the very beginning?" she asked, suddenly nauseated at the thought he had never really loved her as she'd thought.

"No," he said defensively. "I had no idea until I met August that you were a princess. He told me it was your destiny to come here and break a curse an evil queen had placed on this town."

Emma slumped back in her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose. "And you believed him. You threw away what we could have had because of August," she spat in disgust as she got to her feet.

And her luck just kept getting worse as Henry burst through the door of the diner, pink-cheeked with excitement. "Mom, Grumpy said Mr. Clark told him there was a rat in the diner. Is it true? Did they catch it? Can I see?"

Emma caught him by his shoulders to slow him down and shook her head. "There was no rat. It was just a prank Red was pulling," she explained. She turned her gaze back to Neal who had risen from the booth, a startled expression on his face. "Your five minutes are up. I have a life now, Neal. In two weeks, I'm marrying the man I love, I'm expecting a baby after the new year and I have a good relationship with my son. I'm finally happy and I'm not going to let you mess that up. I don't need you or want you in my life, so you can go right back to wherever you came from and leave me the hell alone."

She ushered Henry to the door, who was uncharacteristically quiet, before his voice stopped her. "Is he mine, Emma?" Neal asked, frozen in place as his gaze locked with Henry's.

"You don't get to ask that question." She swung the door wide and led her son out into the afternoon sunshine, already fielding Henry's questions.

Belle stepped out of the kitchen, Mary Margaret and Red at her back, calling out to him before he could plunge headlong out the door to follow Emma and demand answers. "Let her go, Baelfire."

Neal paused with his hand on the door, icy tendrils of dread creeping up his spine and turned to gaze at the petite woman behind the counter; the only one who was looking at him with a mixture of joy and compassion on her lovely face. "How do you know my name?"

Belle couldn't have stopped the smile from blossoming on her lips if she had tried. "That's easy. I'm your stepmother."

*.*.*

Belle approached her stepson and lifted a finger to close his mouth. "You're going to attract flies, darling," she said, giggling softly.

Neal shook his head to clear it and eyed her warily. "Did you just say you're my stepmother? That's not possible."

"Why is it not?" she asked simply, unable to look away from his familiar sable eyes. She couldn't believe she was actually standing there gazing upon Rumpelstiltskin's son, his precious boy, his Bae, and she found herself fighting back a wealth of tears which threatened her composure.

"It's just not possible." He stared at her in bemusement when she merely quirked a brow at him, challenging him to dispute her. "You married the Dark One?" he asked, twirling a finger through the air so reminiscent of her husband she had to bite back a laugh.

"Would you care to walk me home? I'd be more than happy to share my tale with you," she offered sweetly.

Neal took a step back, instantly wary of her gentle patience. Was she bewitched, bespelled or otherwise enchanted to actually seem happy to be married to his father? The myriad questions racing through his brain made him want to accept her offer, but the thought of having to face his papa after so many centuries of bitterness held him back. "He's here in Storybrooke?" he asked, wanting his suspicions confirmed.

"Of course. It was his curse, after all, which brought us here."

"Sorry. As much as I'd love to hear how you were tricked into marrying my father, I don't want to get anywhere near him," he said coldly, lowering his gaze, but not before he saw the smile slip from her face.

Belle's eyes took on the color of ice and she had to bite her lip rather hard to stay her scolding tongue. "How about you and I make a deal, dearie."

Neal's head jerked up in surprise at the condescending endearment. "Taught you all his tricks, did he?"

Belle shrugged noncommittally. "A fair few. But this deal will give you something you desperately want," she promised.

He crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive gesture and shuffled his feet. "Lady, you couldn't possibly know what I want. You don't know me."

"I know more than you think, Bae." He snorted, but she brushed his rudeness aside and continued. "I know your heart's desire is to sit down with Emma Swan and have a conversation with her without her running away from you." She reveled in the blush rising to stain his cheeks. "I can make that happen for you. All you have to do is walk me home. If you don't want to speak to your father after I've had my say …"

"No one can make Emma do anything she doesn't want to do."

Belle smiled fondly at her stepson. "Emma owes my Rumpel a favor. I can call it in, as well, at any time. I can make her talk to you, Bae."

The temptation to take her up on her offer made his heart flutter in his chest as he looked down on the tiny woman bravely staring him down with hope in her eyes. "And all I have to do is walk you home? Should you even be walking long distances in your condition?" he asked, realization dawning on him, his next words said more as a thought to himself. "Gods, you're carrying my … my …"

"Your baby sister, yes," she finished for him, beaming happily. "And the walk will do me good," she shrugged, brushing his worries aside. "Do we have a deal?"

Apparently, his father had been busy in his absence. "Deal," he answered readily, offering his arm and leading her out of the diner and onto the sidewalk, indicating she should show him the way. They walked in silence for several moments before his curiosity got the better of him. "So … how did you meet my papa?"

Belle's eyes lit up at the thought of telling her tale and she couldn't hold back the chuckle which bubbled from her lips at the memory. "I was Princess Belle of Avonlea. We had a bit of an ogre problem and had no choice but to call on Rumpelstiltskin for aid. I was his price. He claimed he wanted a caretaker for his rather large estate. At the time, he didn't mention his estate was a bloody castle. The place was huge. Damn near worked me to death my first month there." She smirked at him. "Close your mouth, darling. You don't want to catch any flies." He quickly snapped his mouth closed, but continued to stare at her in awe.

"So … ah … what kind of spell did he cast on you to make you marry him?" he asked snidely, returning her smirk.

Belle let out a sigh and stared at him dolefully. "You don't know your papa at all, do you, Bae? One of the few laws of magic is that it can't be used to make someone fall in love with you. You could make a love potion to give the illusion of love, but those never turn out well. I saw the man behind the beast and it terrified him. The real reason he wanted me was for companionship. He was lonely, lonelier than anyone I'd ever met before. He never meant me harm and he certainly never expected me to fall in love with him."

"You really love him?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around that bit of news. "You don't know what he was like when he first obtained his curse. I can't see any woman loving him like that."

Belle sent up a little prayer for patience. "That was centuries ago. When I met your father, he was a lonely man filled with regret. I would watch him spin for hours, lost to his thoughts. When I asked him why he spent so much time at the wheel, he said it was so he could forget. To forget what he'd lost, to forget the pain of losing you. And as for being the Dark One … he put on an act of bravado, instilling fear in those desperate enough to summon him. Would you like to know why?"

"Because he's a sadistic bastard."

"Darling, please don't make me hex you. Rum would not be pleased," she said dryly.

Neal raised a brow and stepped away from her warily. "You have magic?"

"Of course, but we'll get to that. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Every deal he made, he made it hoping it would lead to some way to find you. He believed no one would ever love him because he was a monster and it took a bit of convincing on my part to make him see he was wrong, that I loved him to the very depths of my soul. He devoted his life to finding you, Bae."

Neal huffed with indignation. "He wouldn't have had to do all that if he'd come with me through the portal, but he was too much of a coward to keep his promise."

Belle finally lost the firm control on her temper as they strolled up the driveway to the pink mansion. "Let me tell you something, dear. Your father is one of the bravest men I know. He blindly took on a curse he knew nothing about to save you from being conscripted into a war. The ogres don't fight as men do, Baelfire. They are intent on one thing, carnage. They want to tear and rip and sever you from everything you hold dear … if you even survive. Rum was branded a coward in his own village because he chose to return to you instead of dying for a ruler unworthy of his loyalty. Have you any idea the pain he endured to accomplish that feat? Do you not realize the courage it must have taken to injure himself? He loves you more than anything in the world, Bae. He was ridiculed and cast out, shunned. He felt as though he were weak and worthy of no one. He was afraid to lose the power he'd gained, to feel helpless once more, to disappoint you, Bae. If you can't believe anything I've told you, at least give him the chance to tell you what's in his heart." Tears flowed unchecked down her ashen face and she brushed them away angrily, despising herself for showing any sign of weakness.

"So, he spent centuries trying to find me. Did he give up his magic? No. Did he try to break his curse? No. And then he condemned everyone in our realm to this land. How can you defend him?"

Belle kneaded the small of her back and once again ignored the pain which had been plaguing her all morning in favor of glaring at one of the most stubborn men she'd ever met. He was more like his father than he would ever care to admit. "Shortly before I married Rum, he bound me to him … a blood bond. I understand him because I can feel what's in his heart. I wish you could see him as I do. Deep down, Bae, he's still human and humans make mistakes. Are you so much better than him you can't try to forgive?"

He pointed a long finger at her and she ground her teeth together in vexation. "You're deluding yourself, lady. Rumpelstiltskin may say he loves me, but he doesn't care about anything more than his dagger, more than his power. He …"

"His dagger belongs to me. I command the Dark One," she said softly, taking him by surprise.

"You lie. He would never willingly submit to anyone. I don't care how much he might love you, he would never make himself your slave," he hissed, his lip curling back in a sneer, refusing to believe her.

"I didn't want the responsibility at all, but he didn't give me a choice. He wanted me to be his mistress because he knew I would keep him from doing something to harm another. He couldn't live with the Dark One lording its power over him any longer. Now the only evil he does is overcharging tenants for rent," she chuckled. "He's a good man, Bae, and you are one of those fortunate enough to see it if you will just give him a chance. When you love someone, you don't just love the part of them that's good, you love every part … good, bad and the gray area in between."

She held out her hand to him, the breath hitching in her chest as she waited to see if he would accept her offer. Several long moments passed before he sighed and placed his hand in hers, letting her lead him onto the porch. "This doesn't mean I forgive him."

"No, my darling, but it's a start."

*.*.*

Belle showed Neal to the living room and set off in search of her husband. He'd been spending less time in the shop, preferring to spend the afternoons with her as her time to deliver drew near. So, he would close up the shop and come home after lunch to conduct his business either from his study or the library. She found him in the library with the phone pressed to his ear and an evil smirk on his face. She could only wonder which poor unfortunate soul had brought out the imp in him this time. They, however, would have to wait.

Gold held up a finger to ask for another minute. "Yes, Mrs. O'Dell, I understand your dilemma … yes, yes … but Madam, I cannot conduct my business and turn a profit if I grant an extension to everyone who asks. If I grant you one … I just don't …" His words trailed off distractedly as he watched Belle practically grind her teeth into nubs in her impatience.

What is it? he asked through the bond.

Get off the phone, Rum!

I'm in the middle of something, dearest. Can't this wait?

Gold was trying to pay attention to Belle and concentrate on the squawking cell phone in his hand at the same time, clearly torn as to what he wanted and what he needed to do. Belle was at the end of her patience as the pain in her back was reaching epic proportions and took the phone from him.

"Hello, Mrs. O'Dell, I'm terribly sorry to have to drag Rumpelstiltskin away from you, dear. Yes, I understand Mr. O'Dell was out of work last week. I also know he blew his last paycheck at the strip club. You have one week to pay my husband what you owe him," Belle growled into the phone.

Gold's lips pressed into a thin line as he listened to his usually sweet wife handle the woman on the phone. He didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or ravish her over the desk in his study. Considering she was heavily pregnant, he'd have to settle with laughing.

"One week, Mrs. O'Dell. And if you'd like me to waive the late fee, I'm certain you could send one of your granddaughters to me next week for a bit of light housekeeping and help with meals. She can work it off," Belle said, solving the problem which had been plaguing her for some time now. She'd need help after the baby arrived and this was the perfect solution. "Yes, dear … yes, you're welcome. Have a good day."

Gold slipped his arms around her and pulled her in for a kiss. "Have I told you today how beautiful you are?" he asked, trailing his lips along her jaw to her ear. "And brilliant," another kiss along her neck. "And breathtaking."

"No, I believe you were too busy grumping about the thermostat," she murmured throatily, carding her hands through his hair and holding him close.

"I apologize for being remiss," he whispered against her shoulder, nipping lightly with his teeth.

Belle pushed gently against his chest. "Darling, I have the most wonderful surprise for you."

"Belle, sweetheart, you don't have to …"

"You're really going to want this surprise. I promise," she winked at him, her eyes alight with mischief. "Wait here," she teased, inching towards the door and disappearing behind it. He shook his head, a rare smile curving his lips, but waited patiently for her return.

He glanced down at her with a puzzled frown as she returned and stood by his side, her eyes trained on the door. "Belle, what …" he began, but she merely smiled and nodded at the door.

*.*.*

Neal edged forward behind his new stepmother - and yes, he was still reeling from that revelation - and paused with his hand on the door. She claimed his father was on the other side of the door, waiting for him in that room, and he could feel his stomach roll over in trepidation. This was the man who had cared for him every day of his life when his mother had abandoned them, had gone without nourishment so his boy could eat, had spun some nights until his fingers bled so he could earn enough coin to see them through the harsh winters. Was that the man waiting for him on the other side of the door? Or was it the imp, the demon, who'd taken his father's soul and destroyed his trust in him?

"What did you buy, sweetheart, that it will walk in on its own? Did you get a dog? Bae had a sheepdog once. I wouldn't mind owning a dog," Gold said, ignoring his wife's shushing noises. Neal's eyes slammed shut as that familiar lilting voice met his ears, reminding him of bedtime stories and quips and even scoldings … all delivered in that beloved voice. It was nothing like the high-pitched cackle of the Dark One. He couldn't hesitate any longer, having to see for himself if it was really his father. The father he had longed for on cold nights when he'd been freezing and alone. He took another step forward and pushed the door wider.

*.*.*

Gold gazed expectantly at the door, unsure of just what little prank his Belle had up her sleeve. He certainly wasn't prepared for the man who hesitantly entered the library and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his eyes downcast on the floor. The posture was so reminiscent of his son …

His eyes swung to Belle, who refused to meet his gaze, her glassy blue orbs resting intently on the man before them. "Rumpel, this is Neal," she said softly, using the name he'd chosen to use in this realm. At the sound of his name, Neal's head snapped up and finally met Gold's penetrating stare.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't even feel her breath at his ear, encouraging him to be strong, to be brave. He was numb with shock as he stared into sable eyes, so like his own, eyes which could only belong to his Baelfire.

"Baelfire …" was as far as Gold got before his throat closed up and the stinging pressure of tears started at the back of his eyes. He could see his boy in the man before him, his dream, his goal, his fondest wish finally a reality, standing mere feet from him in flesh and blood and bone. He wasn't an apparition or specter, nor a hallucination brought out in his dreams to torment him; he was real.

Neal could feel tears welling in his own eyes as he gazed at the man standing so closely to the petite brunette who had brought them together, one arm tightly around her waist as if hanging on for dear life and the other hand in a white-knuckled grip on a gold-handled cane. He could see no trace of the Dark One in his angular features, his eyes a soft sable brown instead of darkest amber, his skin flushed with a healthy glow instead of a green-gold hue. He was human again, but the faint smell of ozone clinging to the pair, the smell which could only be defined as magic confirmed that looks could be deceiving. But he wanted to believe so badly he'd changed, that he was his father once more.

"Yeah, it's me … Papa," he said, unable to keep his voice from breaking on the last word. He ignored the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, because they weren't important now. He couldn't worry about a show of weakness right then when his father was limping across the room, closing the distance between them and embracing him. He felt as though he were fourteen again as the memories of their life in another realm flooded his mind, poor times, hard times, but mostly happy times, and he couldn't stop his arms from lifting to wrap around his father.

Gold cradled Neal's face in his hands and studied his features before hugging him again. "My boy, my Bae," he repeated over and over. "I'm so sorry … so sorry … I never should have let you go, Bae. I've been looking for you for so long … just for the chance to tell you I was sorry … that I am sorry, and I love you."

Belle swiped the box of tissues from the coffee table and made her way to the door. "I'm sorry," she cried. "I'll leave you two alone to talk and go make t-tea," she said, her voice clouded with emotion and trembling under the weight of it. She waved him off when he would have stopped her from leaving, feeling they needed a little privacy without her weeping over them and making things even more awkward.

Neal straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, wiping his tears away on the back of his sleeve. "I'm still angry with you."

"I know, son, but I will happily listen to you shout at me just so I can hear your voice," he said sincerely, gesturing for his son to have a seat so they could talk.

Neal nodded at the door and decided to change the subject. If he decided to stay in Storybrooke for a while, he and his father would have plenty of time to work through their problems. He was willing to try. "Your Belle, she's … ah … she's something, isn't she?"

The corners of Gold's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "She is the most amazing woman I've ever known, the best deal I've ever made."

"Yeah, she told me a bit about your story on the walk home. Seems you've corrupted her though."

Gold's brows disappeared into his hairline. "How so?"

"She made a deal with me to get me to walk her home," he admitted a little sheepishly. "I have to say it was a bit surprising to find out I had a stepmother and a new sister on the way. You seem to have been quite busy."

"Yes, well … she can be quite persistent when she wants something, my Belle. I don't deserve her after everything I've done, but she refuses to give up on me and I just can't live without her. But tell me, what brought you to Storybrooke? How did you even find Storybrooke?"

"August sent me a postcard letting me know the curse was broken."

"How do you know Mr. Boothe?" Gold asked, his eyes narrowing at the thought of the puppet who'd tried to pass himself off as Baelfire. "He's not the most trustworthy fellow around here."

"Yeah, I found that out the hard way and made a lot of mistakes following his advice. But I came here to fix it, fix things with Emma," Neal told him.

Gold blinked, unable to find his voice to ask the thousand or so questions perched on the tip of his tongue. "Emma Swan?"

Neal was prepared to tell him the entire story of his love affair with Emma and perhaps even ask for advice, but the sound of china breaking distracted him, followed by a startled cry. Gold was on his feet in seconds, moving faster than a man with a limp should be able to.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" Belle cried from the direction of the kitchen.

"I'm here, love," he said, staring down at the broken tea cup and spilled water on the tiled floor. "It's just a cup. We'll replace it." It's not like it was his chipped cup which could never be replaced. He didn't even like the pattern on this set.

But his Belle looked off. She was pale, and lines of pain etched her mouth, no doubt from grinding her teeth so hard. "Rum, I'm not really concerned about the stupid china."

Neal was starting to turn a little green and rushed behind her to wrap an arm around her waist to lend his support. His father was still a bit clueless as to what was going on and someone had to keep her from collapsing to the floor. "Papa, I think you need to get the car."

"Why?"

"Rum, my water just broke," Belle hissed around a fresh wave of pain. "So, unless you want to deliver this baby yourself, we need to go to the hospital."

A/N: I cried again when I was editing this chapter *sob*I really sincerely thought I would be able to finish with this chapter, but once again I was wrong … as usual. So, I've got one more chapter and an epilogue coming your way before the end of this tale. Really want to hear what you think. Thank you all so much for your support during the writing process and keeping me going. Stay tuned for baby Gold in the next chapter. xoxoxo