"Today, we make history. Today, we make contact."

Eleven wished she had never encountered that monster the last time. That's exactly what it was. A monster. There was no other way to describe the glimpse that she'd seen. If she hadn't encountered it, then Papa wouldn't be making her go look for it, again.

The sensory deprivation tank was dark, and the water was neither cold nor warm. The small space made Eleven's insides squirm with claustrophobia, and the glass helmet on her shoulders holding the precious air keeping her alive made it even worse.

But there was no pain in here. No cold, calculating eyes on her, though she knew the people in white coats were watching and listening to the machines monitoring her carefully. And the soldiers just outside the tank were on guard diligently, prepared to pounce to stop her from getting away. She knew they were out there, but she couldn't see them.

Inside the tank, inside her own little world, there was only her and her own fear.

She hated it out there. But she hated it here even more.

And there was only one way out.

Find it.

Eleven closed her eyes and let her consciousness spread and the power that only she possessed tingle, looking for it, searching for it, until finally, she felt a cold surface beneath her feet and when she opened her eyes, she wasn't in the tank, anymore.

Eleven didn't have a name for this place. But it was black, cold, and infinite. Just black up, north, south, east, and west stretching out flat with no end as far as the eye could see. The surface beneath her bare feet was smooth and cold and black, covered in about a centimeter of water that made such pretty ripples each time she took a step. This place was odd. There was no source of light, and it was so black, and yet it wasn't dark. When she looked down, she could see herself perfectly with no shadow. And when she looked out-

She could see it.

It didn't see her. It was eating. Eleven didn't know what it was eating. Eleven didn't want to know what it was eating.

Make contact.

Eleven didn't want to make contact. She never wanted to see it again. It was ugly, and the energy it gave off was dark and frightening. Evil. She didn't know where she'd heard that word before, but it was evil.

And yet, she gathered her courage and her legs carried her forwards, fingers reaching out to touch its tough, leathery hide. But just inches away from it, Eleven stopped. They could see her brain activity, and they could hear what was going on in here. But how was Papa to know if she stopped right now, walked away, wandered around for a little while, then told them that she couldn't find it?

No.

That wouldn't work.

Papa could always tell when she told lies.

And yet- she wasn't going to do it. Eleven didn't know much about instinct, but her insides were squirming oh so unpleasantly and she just knew that if she made contact with this- this thing, something terrible was going to happen and there would be no going back.

And so, for once in her life, Eleven made a decision for herself and went against what they wanted. For her own sake, for their sake, and though she had never met them, for the sake of everyone who lived in the world outside of the lab. She drew her fingers back, turned, and she ran. Behind her, she heard it screech, but she ran. The water splashed beneath her toes and she tasted blood on her tongue, running out of her nose. But still, she fled. She fled and she did not stop until it was long gone. And she was alone in the black.

Keep looking.

Eleven was lucky. Papa didn't know that she had run away from it.

But he still wanted her to keep looking.

Eleven wasn't going to look for it. Papa would be angry, and it was scary when Papa got angry. But still, Eleven wasn't going to look for it. Because she knew what they didn't know. She knew what their foolish curiosity blinded them to. What they wanted her to look for wasn't something that was ever meant to be found. And if the thing that was never meant to be found was found, then something terrible would happen. Something scarier than Papa could ever be.

So, she was in here anyway, who or what would she look for?

Eleven had always wondered about something. And she had asked her Papa before, but he had never given her an answer.

Are there others like me?

Could there possibly be someone out there like her? Even if they couldn't do the exact same things she could, was there someone out there who could do things no one else could? Someone who may very well be just as alone as she was?

If there was, she would find them. Not for Papa, not for them, but for herself. She never got to do anything for herself. Maybe, just this once, she would do something that she wanted to do.

Again, she closed her eyes. This was much harder than anything she'd ever tried before, because she didn't know exactly who or what she was looking for. When they had made her look for Russians, she always had a picture to reference from. When she was looking for the creature, she had already seen it. All she had now was a blurry image in her head that she didn't even know existed.

She searched and searched until she was considering giving up. But then-

There they were. And there were so many of them. There weren't any close by, but they were there. And one in particular drew Eleven's attention more than the rest.

He was very far away, but Eleven knew he was powerful. Very powerful. And he was alone. Just like her. He was so far away that Eleven was sure that the only reason she could sense him at all was because of what he was doing right now. His mind was calm and open, attempting to calm the sadness, frustration, loneliness, and anger brewing inside.

Eleven didn't know what his life was like to make him feel that way, but Eleven knew exactly how he felt. She'd felt the same way for her entire life. She couldn't remember ever not feeling that way.

Who was he? Who was this man who was like her, and yet not like her? Eleven wanted to see him. She wanted to know who he was. She wanted to know that she was not alone.

She opened her eyes.

And there he was.

Rumpelstiltskin was spinning. He did that quite a lot. It helped him forget. It was so easy to just forget. He would never let himself forget forever, but it was nice to let it go, just for a little while.

Straw goes in, gold comes out. The squeak of the wheel and the wood and thread beneath his fingers was a familiar, soothing sensation that let him disappear inside himself for a while and just forget. How lonely he was, how desperate he was, how many people hated him, and above all else, how much he missed Bae.

But, just because spinning helped calm him, did not mean that it made him drop his guard. Which is exactly why he froze when he felt it. A desperate soul.

It was so close, and yet so far away. His eyes scanned the room, and he let his magic out to scan every square inch of the Dark Castle, but he was alone in its stone walls. And yet, he knew he was not.

Rumple stood up from his stool so fast it fell over, but he paid it no mind. He was on high alert. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It wasn't often that anything surprised or frightened him, and yet his pulse was quickening. He let his magic scan the castle again. There was someone here, and yet there was someone not here. It was a paradox he had never encountered before. He was so old, it wasn't often that he encountered something new. It both fascinated and alarmed him at the same time and he found himself asking aloud, "I know you're here, dearie. Who's there?"

He- he could see her?

Eleven had found people many times. But she had always been an outsider. No one had ever acknowledged her before or known she was watching.

Eleven was fascinated by him. Without a doubt, he was different. But he was not like her. He wasn't like anyone Eleven had ever seen. His skin was a golden tan color, and it was textured, like it would feel rough if she touched it. His fingernails were dark in color and his crooked teeth were stained. He had gotten up from the wooden device he had been sitting at and his unnatural-looking, almost reptilian brown eyes were looking around for her.

A lot of people might be frightened and while Eleven was certainly startled at first, she wasn't afraid. Just a little surprised. She had seen far more frightening things than him. She had experienced more frightening things, too. And while the aura he was giving off was certainly not friendly, it wasn't evil. Evil had touched him, definitely. And she wasn't certain about whether or not evil ruled him. But evil had touched her, too. Like me, but also not like me.

Eleven didn't talk very often, so the words came out with spaces in between, and they felt unnatural and heavy coming off her tongue. But still, she swallowed, gathered her courage, and asked-

"You… see… me?"

Rumpelstiltskin knew he had invited an answer by asking a question, but he still jumped at the sound of the voice. It echoed all around him without a particular source, and yet he could hear it. Honestly, what really surprised him was how small it was. A child? Such a desperate soul. Could it really be a child?

"No." Rumple said, softening his tone. "But I can feel you, dearie. I know you're here."

"I… see… you." The voice said again. A child. It really was a child.

"Ye can see me?" Rumple asked.

"Yes."

"Who are you?"

"You?" The voice asked.

"Names are valuable things, dearie. I asked who you are. You tell me, I'll tell you."

"Can- cannot."

"Why not?" He asked.

"Bad… Papa said no."

Bad people? Or was it the child's Papa that was bad? In either case, he was sure now that he was definitely talking to an actual child, not some demon or another mage impersonating one. He was also sure now that he was talking to a little girl. That last sentence, her voice had changed in pitch just enough that he could tell the voice was definitely female. And whoever she was, she was in trouble.

"Alright sweetheart, calm down, calm down." He said, sensing she was getting upset. A memory popped into the back of his mind, of talking in a similar voice to Bae when he was little and scared. He quickly squashed it back down. Now was no time for him to be getting upset. "You won't tell me yer name, and my name is a little hard to pronounce, dearie. And it doesn't sound like you talk all that well. So let's compromise. I won't tell you my whole name, but you can call me Rum if you want."

"Com-pruh-my-sss?"

"Ye know, meet in the middle. Neither of us are getting what we want, so we'll both get part of what we want. So, if I don't get your name, may I ask what you're doing here?"

"You… like me."

"Are you asking about whether or not I like you, or if I am like you?"

"Similar."

The second one, then. "Well, I don't know anything about you, dearie. So I can't say whether or not we have anything in common, can I?"

"You… powers?"

"You really don't know who you're talking to, do you?" Rumple said with his signature giggle.

"No. You… diff-erent?"

"Are you asking whether or not I'm different than other people?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, I'd say I'm a bit of an anomaly. Are you different, too?"

"Yes. I do things… no one else can do. You… alone?"

He tried not to think of Belle or Bae. "Yes dearie, I live alone. Do you?"

The voice hesitated, then replied in a frightened whisper, "No."

"Do you live with bad people?" Rumple asked quietly, calmly standing up his stool again and sitting on it.

"Yes."

"Are they hurting you? For being able to do things they can't?"

The child didn't reply.

"I take that as a yes, then. Maybe I can help you, dearie. Do you know where you are?"

"Bad place."

"Yes, but where?"

Again, she didn't respond.

"You don't know?"

"No."

"I want to help you, dearie. But I can't if I don't know your name or where you are."

"Thank you." The little girl said.

"For what? Sweetheart, I haven't done anything."

"Yes. You did."

"What did I do?" He asked.

"I know… I'm not alone."

And then, she was gone. And he was left alone with only his thoughts, and his castle, and the wheel.

Eleven didn't know what the word for the wonderful feeling in her gut was, just that she had never felt it, before. She could best describe it as a flicker. A small flicker of light stubbornly burning on a candle that had never been lit before and now stubbornly refused to go out.

She would learn later that it was called hope.

Eleven really hadn't wanted to cut their conversation short. She could have stayed and talked to Rum forever. He was so kind. But she had felt the scientists starting to open the tank, and she had had to say goodbye.

Eleven didn't think her Papa had ever been this angry with her. But despite how red in the face he was and the blood running out of Eleven's nostrils, she couldn't wipe the smile off her face. I am not alone.

The moment the helmet was off her head, Papa struck her across the face so hard that coupled with the exhaustion at finding the monster, then fleeing from it and finding and talking to Rum instead, Eleven passed out.

She didn't know how much time passed. Minutes? Hours? Days? But when she came to, she was in the dark room. The small dark room. The one Papa locked her in when she didn't do what she was told. Eleven's heart raced and her stomach churned and she stood up and slammed her body into the door the moment she figured out where she was. Her claustrophobia made her skin crawl and her heart hammer in time with her fists banging on the door and the walls. It usually didn't take her long to give up. But the candle hadn't been lit before, and it was now. And that tiny flicker of light in the darkness fueled Eleven as she banged and screamed and flailed until finally, after what seemed like days, she collapsed boneless on the hard, cold floor. Everything throbbed, her knuckles, feet, and knees were bloody, and her voice was sore from screeching, but even as she finally drifted off, shaking and terrified and alone, Eleven thought of Rum, the one who was like her and yet not like her, and smiled.

Her dreams were of a big, stone building that she was pretty sure was called a castle surrounded by giant steep hills of earth that she'd only heard about that were called mountains, covered in a cold white powder that had to be snow. And her dreams were of him, too. Sitting at the strange wooden wheel turning straw into gold.

For the first time in her life, Eleven's dreams were pleasant. But her reality remained a nightmare. She awoke hours later still in the dark room, and her claustrophobia tormented her nonstop. She didn't know how long her Papa kept her in there, but it had to be longer than she had ever been locked in there before. Until she was so hungry that she was sure her growling stomach was a monster gnawing on her insides, she was so thirsty and her mouth and throat were so dry that she couldn't make a sound even if she wanted to, and she felt so weak she could barely move. And yet, that flicker of light still stubbornly burned, bright and strong and beautiful. Ignited by a single kind connection. It seemed like an eternity passed when Eleven was finally taken out of the dark, small space.

"Reckless."

"He could have killed it!"

"She needs fluids and nutrients, now!"

"No! Run diagnostics, first! We need to know what effect the deprivation had on it!"

Papa's voice was the loudest one of all of them. "This is all your fault, Eleven. You were a very bad girl. If you would just do what you were told, I wouldn't have to punish you."

Maybe he was right. But still, that little taste of rebellion had tasted so good. And as needles were injected into her arms to replenish her frail body, Eleven looked forward to the next time she would be put in the tank, where she had every intention of doing it again.

Rumpelstiltskin spent hours at the wheel in the weeks that followed. Listening intently, or just letting his mind go blank. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get that desperate little soul out of his mind. He couldn't just push aside and forget that somewhere out there, a child, potentially a magical child, was out there suffering. Usually, that wouldn't bother him. The world was filled with children, and not all of them were in the best place. That was just an unavoidable fact of life.

But this one had reached out. Not to anyone, to him.

His damn parental instincts probably had something to do with it, too. That little voice couldn't help but remind him of Bae.

And for those reasons, he could not help but feel some sort of responsibility to reach right back and help her.

But he couldn't.

He didn't have details, a location, what the child looked like, or even a name.

It was absolutely maddening.

The part of the Dark One inside him that liked to watch him suffer was absolutely loving it, but Rumpelstiltskin buried it deep down and paid it no mind. He had been doing it for centuries and wasn't about to start listening to it, now.

Just when he was starting to think he was never going to hear that little voice again, it was back.

"Rum?"

He'd been sitting at the wheel again, muttering to himself, when he heard it. And again, he jumped.

"I was starting to think I was never going to hear from you again, dearie." Rumple said, standing up.

"Dear-ie?"

"It's just something you can call someone. You can say it to be endearing or condescending. Depends on how you feel about them. Call it a quirk of mine, I call everyone that."

He heard a little giggle, and he smiled.

"You… do things."

"Yes, dearie. We talked about that last time. I can do things. And apparently, you can too."

"Show me?"

Rumple quirked a smile before reaching out and making a teacup float into his hands. He heard the little echoing voice gasp followed by a sound of delight that made his smile broaden. It wasn't often that the sight of his magic actually made someone happy.

"You are. Like me."

"So, you can do that too?"

"Yes. You do it… better."

"Oh. How so?"

"I bleed."

"You bleed? Where?"

He heard her sniff. Oh, she gets nosebleeds. His brain had been drifting off in an entirely different direction. Strange, he had never heard of a mage getting a nosebleed when they tried to use magic, before.

"So, you can do things, but your nose bleeds whenever you do it?"

"Yes."

"My nose has never bled before. So, dearie, I know that you might not want to tell me, but might I ask your name?"

"No."

"Alright. May I ask where you are?"

"Bad place."

"Right. Bad place. And you don't know where that bad place is." Rumple rubbed his temples and sighed. "I can't help you if I don't know anything about you. I don't know where you are, what you look like, or even your name. If I could find you, I could help you. You could even stay with me if you wanted to."

"You can't."

"I can't help? Why not?"

"It's not safe."

They ripped her out of the tank even faster this time. But Eleven was happy. She'd been able to find him again. He was out there. He existed. And he really was like her. She'd seen it. She'd seen it!

Papa hit her, again. But she didn't pass out this time. When she didn't pass out, Papa grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, not bothering to dry her off or even remove the device from her head, and half-dragged her down the stairs and out of the room, flanked by other scientists and guards. Eleven didn't like the glint in his eyes. He wasn't bothering with the nice act, anymore.

He'd been pulling it a lot in the past month, trying to manipulate her into doing what he wanted. But Eleven was simply tired of it. Until she'd met Rum, she hadn't even been entirely sure about why she was still alive. She'd suspected that there were better lives outside the lab, but now she knew. She knew for certain that outside these walls was a place of greener pastures. And she decided right then that she wasn't going to stop until she was out.

"You've been a bad girl, Eleven." He snarled. "A very bad girl. Bad things happen to bad girls. All you had to do was find it. But instead you- who was he, Eleven?"

Eleven glared at him and stubbornly kept her mouth shut. She didn't know enough about Rum to tell them anything they could use even if she wanted to. But she didn't feel like playing by Papa's rules anymore.

"Answer me!" He hissed.

"No." Eleven said firmly.

"What did you just say?"

You can say it to be endearing or condescending. Depends on how you feel about them.

"No. Dear-ie."

With a growl of frustration, he shook her and pushed her away from him. "Take her out of my sight."

Eleven hadn't seen the two other workers approaching her, but she could feel them now. Their big, meaty hands gripping her firmly by her arms. Eleven remembered the last time men had grabbed her like this. She'd been so scared and so angry, she'd hurt them. She'd- Eleven didn't want to think about that. But she couldn't help it. She was scared, now.

"No! NO!" She shouted and dug her bare heels into the tile to no avail but they picked her up by her arms so her feet weren't touching the floor and there was no resistance. "Bad! BAD! NO! PAPA!" Eleven screeched.

"This is all your fault, Eleven. Bad things happen to bad girls."

"Dearie?" Rumple called. There was no response. "Dearie? Are you still here?" He asked louder. "DEARIE!" But she was gone. "DAMN IT!" He shouted.

Of their own accord, the windows shattered. What the hell ever, he'd fix them when he was calm enough that he knew he wouldn't break them again. Growling with frustration and yanking at his hair from the roots, Rumple collapsed back onto his stool. Think!

He could spin, but forgetting was not what he wanted to do right now.

It's not safe.

Such a kind little girl. Despite all the danger she was in, despite how frightened she was, she was worried about him getting hurt! He was the Dark One, for god's sake! Rumple swore right then that if he ever came face to face with whoever it was that was hurting this child, there was going to be hell to pay!

That was it. He was going to do something. He had to do something! The only problem was that he had no idea what.

If Belle were here, she'd be marching straight up to the Library.

Actually, that was probably the smartest thing to do right now. In fact, it was the only thing he could do right now. He hadn't read every book he owned and he was most certainly not in his comfort zone.

Under normal circumstances, Rumple tried his hardest to avoid the library. Every nook and cranny of the place reminded him of Belle even more than the rest of the bloody castle did. But, these were certainly not normal circumstances.

Knowing he needed to burn off steam and not wanting to think about what was being done to that sweet little girl, Rumple marched out of the hall and walked the entire way to the library instead of using magic to get there. Huffing from going up the stairs, he snatched the first potentially useful-looking book he saw, opened it as fiercely as he could without ripping it, and started looking.

Hours passed. Dark, thick clouds had completely blocked out the sunset and rain was beginning to blanket the castle when Rumple found the first bit of information that may or may not be relevant.

It had come from a book he had acquired (stolen) from one Dr. Frankenstein but hadn't had time to read. Magic and science were two entirely different things, this was something Rumple was very aware of, and the difference between the two was that Science could, with enough experimentation and study done by someone intelligent enough, be logically explained. Magic on the other hand outright broke the laws that 'science' set in place. Still, Rumple found it beneficial to check in on the scientific minds every now and then. Without magic to aid them, they looked for other ways of achieving their goals. In Dr. Frankenstein's land for instance, mankind had discovered how to create light without fire using some strange yet non-magical force that Frankenstein had called electricity.

However, the book that he was looking at wasn't about electricity at all. In fact, it was an entirely theoretical book that talked about something called a 'parallel universe', which from what he understood was something like a realm, but it wasn't a realm. It was like another version of their world that existed right alongside it. And the particular parallel universe that this book was talking about, while entirely theoretical, was simply called "The Upside Down". Most of the book other than that used big words in the language of science that he simply didn't have the education to understand nor the time to look up. Belle would have loved this book.

Shaking his head, Rumple went back to the table of contents and read the titles of each chapter until he found one that could possibly be relevant. Just as he was about to toss the book aside into the rest of the pile, he decided to give one particular chapter a glance. He flipped to the right page and started to read.

'As discussed in the previous chapter, it would take an extraordinary amount of energy to potentially open a gateway between our world and that of the Upside Down. Energy that, while not possible to be generated with our current technology, may someday be harnessed by man in the future. Still, despite its absurdity, I find it important to bring up another scientific theory concerning certain individuals with mysterious abilities.'

After reading that next part, Rumple came to the conclusion that he was reading a scientist trying to come up with a scientific explanation for magic, set the book aside to read later, and picked out the next book that might be of use.

It was nearing midnight, Rumple was really starting to wish that Belle was still with him to help him with this, and the rain outside had turned into a tempest. The wind shook the trees, lightning illuminated the castle and surrounding mountains, and thunder boomed and crashed overhead.

But still, above the din of the storm, Rumple heard it.

"Rum… help me."

Rumple dropped the book he was reading and did the only thing he could think of to do. This child was reaching out, he reached right back. "Come on, sweetheart." He said, closing his eyes tight and concentrating as hard as he could, "I want to help you but I can't do it alone."

"Help me. Help me! Hurts! STOP! BAD! BAD!"

Rumple was no longer certain if she was even talking to him, or if he was overhearing her pleas for mercy from someone else. And the thought made his heart clench painfully in his chest. Around him, the candles flickered, then went out and a mysterious wind started making the books rapidly flip through their pages. Rumple was certain that it wasn't his magic at work.

He knew that chances were that they couldn't hear him but still he found himself shouting, "LEAVE HER ALONE!"

The echoing voice let out one last echoing scream of terror and agony before everything suddenly went silent and still.

"Dearie?" He called, his heart hammering. "DEARIE!"

He was just about to call out once more when- Sweet Lord! What in the name of magic is that?! It was the largest energy that Rumple had ever sensed. It made him spin around and stare in its direction. It was less than a mile from the castle. He ran to the window, trying to get a glimpse of whatever it was. At first, he didn't see anything out in the dark. Just the rain in the torchlight and the occasional illumination of the castle's walls and the mountains from the lightning. And yet, the energy was there. It was growing and swelling to a level that was so overwhelmingly powerful that it made him, the Dark One, take a step back and away from the window.

The energy suddenly plummeted.

Then-

There was a deafening crack and a blinding flash of light. It was so loud, and the force of the blast was so powerful, that it sent Rumple flying backwards off of his feet and into an adjacent wall and the entire castle shook so hard that books started falling off of their shelves. It crossed his mind that lightning had struck the castle. But once Rumple's wits returned to him, he sensed it. A desperate soul. Such a small, frail desperate soul in the exact spot that the energy had been emitting from. Not hesitating for another minute, Rumple donned his cloak in a swirl of magic and in another swirl, he vanished out into the storm.

The clearing he appeared in hadn't been there before. In fact, he knew for certain that this very spot had been forest just an hour ago. The trees were blown apart, torn from their roots, and strewn about the forest floor from the force of the blast of energy that had exploded in the center of the clearing. Rumple's eyes scanned through the dark for signs of life. He just knew that whoever was out here was that same little voice that had called out to him.

"Hello?" He shouted above the din of thunder.

Sensing a presence, he turned around. He found himself face to face with a small, shaking, dirty, exhausted, soaking wet little girl. Her head was shaved (for a moment he mistook her for a boy) the gown she wore (if you could call it that) was streaked with mud, and there was a small trickle of blood running out of not only both nostrils, but also out of each of her ears. When their eyes met, she smiled. And Rumple had a feeling that it was the first time she had truly smiled in a great long while. Her little fingers reached out and brushed against the leather of his jacket, testing if he was really there, and her smile widened even more when she realized that he was real.

"Rum…" She mumbled. Then she collapsed face-first into his arms.

Rumpelstiltskin recovered from his shock in an instant. He picked up the child, wrapped her in his cloak, and vanished back to the warmth and safety of his castle in a swirl of burgundy red smoke.