Chapter 55

Zelena was seething as she stormed off. How dared she? At this point, she neither knew nor cared whether the 'she' under consideration was Lily, Maleficent, or Regina. One had helped steal her child, another had ripped out her heart, and the last had entrusted it to Rumple, of all people! How… How could Regina have done it? Why?

She stopped.

This was all a plot to keep her away from Lyncoln. Next Regina and Robin would be saying that without her heart, she could never be a good mother and they didn't want her around her daughter anymore.

Zelena felt something—which obviously wasn't her heart, but she didn't know what else it might be—plummet in her chest. They couldn't do that. They wouldn't. Would they? Glumly, she remembered what she knew of her own mother. Cora had ripped out her own heart and become a monster. Her jaw set. That wasn't going to happen to her! She wouldn't let it! She… She had to see her daughter now!

She turned abruptly and started walking in the direction of Granny's.


"All right," the Apprentice said slowly. He, Tony, and Tia stood circling the knob, their hands linked together, their eyes closed so that they couldn't see the faint glow that filled the space they surrounded. "Now…"

To an observer, it appeared that a bolt of lightning emanated from each forehead, converging on the knob at the center of their circle. The knob glowed brighter as the crackling threads spread out over its surface, picking and probing.

Tony's lips parted, revealing clenched teeth as beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Tia's breath came more raggedly and her eyes squeezed tightly closed while she fought to maintain her focus. Bené bore the strain best, but even his limbs were beginning to shake, when he finally cried, "Enough!"

The other two might have collapsed when they relaxed their minds, had he not been holding fast to their hands. For a moment, they regarded him blankly. Then each seemed to recollect themselves again and they nodded. Tony was the first to speak. "I know you said this wasn't going to be easy, but…"

"You didn't believe me?"

Tony gave him a pained smile. "Maybe I hoped you'd be wrong."

Bené turned to Tia. "Were you able to detect anything?"

Tia hesitated. "I think… Its magic is a bit like yours, isn't it? It doesn't exactly make a portal, but…"

"Very good," the Apprentice nodded. "Yes, it does work rather along those lines. I should like to unravel the time component in particular; translocation isn't really noteworthy in and of itself, though I am impressed by the sheer distance it appears able to travel. But time travel, on the other hand…"

Tony frowned. "You know," he said slowly, "if its magic is like yours, would that mean that it could jump realms, too?"

Bené raised an eyebrow. "Not as designed," he said after a pause. "However, it seems like it might be a simple enough modification to make. Should we ever choose to replicate the spells woven about this object," he added. "For now, instead of finding ways to enhance the enchantments surrounding the knob, it would behoove us to find a way to remove them."

Tony nodded, but he hadn't missed the speculative look in Uncle Bené's eyes The Apprentice was intrigued, and that probably meant that there would be more than a few long nights spent in experimentation when their current task was completed.

"I guess I'd better make some more tea," Tia said, giving her brother a warning look. You shouldn't get him excited, she cautioned. You know we can't stay much longer and once he gets caught up in stuff like this he's going to want us around to bounce ideas off of.

I know, Tony tried to sound chastened. But maybe it won't take him that much time to figure it out.

Tia shook her head. Then, with a long-suffering sigh, she headed for the kitchen, where the chamomile awaited.


Belle felt a roaring in her ears. Dimly, she took in Snow's stricken expression, the apologetic tone of her voice, though she couldn't quite hear the words over the sound of her own fears. She hadn't meant to kill Cruella, but she had. She hadn't meant to hurt her husband so badly in New York, but she had. She hadn't meant to let Anna fall from that cliff face—

Had she Darkened her heart? And if she had, had it been killing Cruella that had done it, or had her heart been darkening for a long time, now? And if it had been, if it was, was there any way she could stop it?

Completely forgetting about Snow, she scraped her chair back, spun on her heel—or flat—whatever it was—and practically ran out of the diner.


It was raining when Emma was ready to leave the shop. She shook her head irritably. "Mom was right," she muttered. "I should've taken an umbrella."

"Actually," Rumple spoke up from behind her, "I do have an errand that I was meaning to run before I got sidetracked with that knob." He ducked into the back room and returned a moment later with his coat over his arm. "Where were you headed?"

"Sheriff station, I guess," Emma replied. "I never can stay on top of the paperwork."

Rumple smiled. "That's on the way. Come, Sheriff. You saved me from braving the weather once. Allow me to return the favor."

Emma smiled back. "Thanks." Rumple started to put on his coat and Emma saw what it had been concealing, draped over his arm. An eyebrow shot up. "You're going back to school?" she asked skeptically.

Rumple chuckled at that. "If you'll recall, some nights earlier, your son decided that my house was the safest haven during a dragon attack. One of the Lapine children left this behind. I was meaning to return it, seeing as Henry's informed me that they won't be needing my shop for extra rehearsals anymore."

That was news to Emma. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing untoward," Rumple replied easily, as he buttoned his coat. "They began holding their practices to compensate for those practices that young Cecily's responsibilities compelled her to miss. Well, it seems that her mother has removed some of those responsibilities, obviating the need for extra rehearsal time." He shrugged. "So, I suppose I'll content myself with watching the finished production like the rest of you." He smiled a bit wistfully. "But that does mean I probably won't encounter any of the Lapine children for the next little while, so if the bag is to find its way back to its rightful owner, it falls to me to help it along."

"Sounds like a plan. Maybe I'll come with you." At Rumple's unblinking stare, she said, "Really, I've been meaning to have another look at Zelena's cellar. That night, we were mostly concerned with finding you. And I know Zelena said it had been totally cleaned out. But if she missed something or," she frowned, "if she found something she didn't want us to know about…?"

"That's actually not a bad idea," Rumple admitted. "But I think we can admit that between the two of us, it's more likely that I'd recognize an item of magic than you would."

"Are you up for that?" Emma asked seriously.

Rumple hesitated. "I suppose we can find out," he murmured. "There are enough hazardous magical materials floating about this town already; it's only sensible to ensure that there aren't others unaccounted for."


Zelena took the stairs up to the motel rooms two at a time and pounded furiously on Robin's door. It was opened a moment later by a startled brunette. "Who are you?" the witch demanded. Without waiting for an answer, she shouldered past her. "It doesn't matter. I'm here for my daughter."

"Your daughter?" the young woman repeated blankly. Just then, the bathroom door opened and a small boy with a familiar face emerged. He took one look at Zelena, backed hastily into the bathroom once more, and slammed the door shut. "Roland!" the woman exclaimed. Then, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and asked the witch, "Who are you?"

"Zelena," the witch snapped. "Now, where's Lyncoln?"

"R-Robin took her to Dr. Whale for a checkup," the woman replied.

"What?" Zelena gripped the woman's upper arm, digging in her nails until she winced. "She's ill?"

The woman shook her head. "It's just a checkup," she said, trying to get loose. "B-babies need them."

Zelena considered that. Then she released the stranger with an angry shove. "If you're lying to me," she snarled, turning to leave, "I promise you, you'll regret it!"

Then she was gone, slamming the door behind her. Astrid stared at the door for a moment, rubbing her arm. Then she went to stand by the bathroom door. "Roland?" she called softly. "Roland, it's safe. She's gone, now."


Emma wasn't entirely sure why she'd invited herself along on this jaunt. Maybe it was because, over the last little while, she'd come to recognize that Gold was almost as bad as she was when it came to asking for support. Maybe worse; she, at least, had learned over time that if she asked for it, she was likely to get it.

Asking for help means admitting you can't do it alone. It means being vulnerable, and we both really… suck at that.

And Rumpelstiltskin had one hell of a reputation to overcome. He'd pulled so much crap in the past, that it really wasn't any wonder that people were suspicious now, when he tried to be nice. She knew her parents were working on that. So was Regina. Even Killian. But there were still plenty of people like Belle's father, who weren't so ready to give him a chance to prove himself. She had no idea how Mrs. Lapine was going to react to his appearance. Her kids were okay around him, but did she even know that they'd met him? Henry was a terrific kid, but she knew that he didn't share everything with her. And he sure hadn't used to share everything with Regina.

If this wasn't going to go the way Gold intended, then she was going to be there to-to-to remind him that he still had people in his corner.


The Lapine home was large, but clearly needed a paint job. There was a shutter half off its hinge and one of the basement windows had a spider-web of cracks that had been taped over. The front walk could have done with some repaving, as well, Emma noted, as they made their way up the three steps to the house's front porch (the middle one wobbled slightly), and Gold rapped smartly on the front door.

It was opened a moment later by a small girl clutching a large stuffed rabbit. When she saw them, she broke into a smile. "Hullo," she greeted them.

Gold returned the smile. "Hi, Aggie. Is your mother about?"

Aggie nodded. Then she turned and shrieked loudly enough for both adults to wince, "Mama! Door!"

It was another moment before Mrs. Lapine bustled over to them. Emma wasn't surprised at her nervous smile—so much like the one her mother had given Gold the first time he'd turned up at her apartment. "You're here about the rent, I expect," she said sadly. "I knew you'd be by sooner or later, and we have been here some months. I-I know I should have come to see you sooner to find out how much was owing, but we've received no notice, no assessment, no…" She shook her head and looked at Emma. "I suppose you're here to evict us, Sheriff?"

Emma blinked. "What? No, of course not!" She shot a quick look at Gold, realized that he appeared to be as taken aback as she was, and immediately regretted having wondered—if only for an instant—whether that had been his plan.

Rumple held up the school bag. "I'm afraid your son left this behind the other night. I'm here to return it."

Mrs. Lapine released a long-suffering sigh. "That boy…" she shook her head. "I don't know what to do with him half the time." Her face relaxed in a smile. "Well. If you aren't here to throw us into the street, would you care to come inside?"


Zelena burst into the waiting area outside Dr. Whale's office with a thunderous expression. Neither Robin nor her daughter was present, but Regina was. All of her ire from earlier rose to the fore and she practically spat, "Why was I not informed that my daughter had an appointment today?"

Regina regarded her coolly for a moment. Then, she gave the witch a faint smile that might almost have been apologetic. "With all the excitement over the last few days, it slipped all our minds until the hospital called to ask if we were running late." She paused for a beat. "I suppose that since you're going to be up and about, we'll need to see about giving you back your phone. And exchanging contact information, so I can find you in a hurry without resorting to mirror magic."

Zelena turned her sister's words over in her head for a moment. Then, somewhat mollified, she sat down on the couch beside her sister, leaving enough space between them that a third person could probably have squeezed in. "But she's all right?" she asked. "The premature birth, the sleeping curse, the…"

Regina nodded. "Well, that's one thing that Whale's trying to determine. But between my experience with Henry and Robin's with Roland, well, neither of us has noticed anything worrying. It's just routine in this land for babies to get their first checkup at birth and their second, three to five days later. Given the circumstances you just referenced, I think you can understand why we wouldn't want to postpone bringing her in."

A bit more tension drained away as Zelena nodded. "I suppose the phone would be a start," she said a bit more civilly.

"By the way," Regina said casually, "you know I broke the second curse by kissing Henry. Without my heart."

Zelena blinked. Then she nodded again. "All right. I'll admit that slipped my mind. I…" she took a breath. "I don't want to become like our mother." She had a sudden infantile urge to clap her hands to her mouth as though she could re-trap the words that had just escaped it. Her sister slid slightly closer to her and, for once, Zelena didn't bristle at the gesture.

"Mother ripped out her own heart so that it wouldn't interfere with her ambitions. Becoming cold and hard and calculating? She made that choice of her own free will." Still not looking at Zelena directly, she went on, "Our mother sacrificed us both to her plotting and machinations. She might have abandoned you, but she kept me."

Ages ago, it seemed, Regina had brought up that same point, knowing that it would dig deep. She wasn't gloating this time. "She abandoned me before she ripped out her heart," Zelena muttered.

"Which should tell you a great deal about the person she was, even before Rumple taught her magic. She was obsessed with... keeping an upward trajectory. Abandoning one daughter she thought would ruin her chances, murdering her other daughter's True Love, the better to trap her in a loveless marriage…" She sighed. "When I returned her heart to her—not realizing that Snow had cursed it—with Mother's dying breath, she told me that I 'would have been enough'. But just because she might have been able to love me a bit better doesn't mean she would have been a different person."

Zelena turned to her with a troubled expression. "Then… what are my chances? Of not doing to Lyncoln what she did to you?"

"What were mine?" Regina asked simply. She took another breath. "Having my heart in my chest didn't save me from… doing a few things to Henry that she did to me, though at least, I recognized the pattern in time. This road I'm on… It's not an easy one. But I came to recognize that if I wanted Henry in my life, I'd have to travel it. While I might have tried cutting an occasional corner now and again, there's never been a time when I questioned whether my son was worth it. If you feel the same way about Lyncoln, I'd say you're already minimizing the danger of ending up like Mother."

The door at the end of the waiting area opened and Robin emerged, Whale a half-step behind.

"Things are looking good," Whale announced with a smile, as Zelena rose from her chair with a smile that widened slightly as she heard him. "I'll just ask you to make another appointment at the front desk for three weeks from now, so we can follow up and make sure that everything stays as it should."

"Thank you, Doctor," Regina said.

Zelena looked up from cooing over her daughter to echo, "Yes. Thank you."


"So," Mrs. Lapine said, fixing Rumple with a steely eye, "I've been informed by a reliable source that your bread pudding is better than mine."

Rumple winced. "I-I meant no disrespect," he stammered. "I found the recipe online and the ingredients were simple enough."

Mrs. Lapine looked stern for another moment. Then she laughed. "I'd be obliged if you could spare that recipe!" she guffawed, smiling now. "We had limited options back in Sherwood when it came to flavorings."

Rumple nodded, his expression still somewhat apprehensive. "I quite understand. Come to think of it, I don't believe that cinnamon or vanilla would have been commonly available in those parts."

"Indeed not," Mrs. Lapine affirmed. "Though we'd ginger and jams in abundance. Dried fruit, too. And mint and basil, of course."

"Wait," Emma said. "Basil? In a dessert?"

Mrs. Lapine lowered her eyes nervously. "Perhaps I misspoke, my Lady Sheriff," she murmured.

"Uh… I-I'm not…" Emma's voice trailed off. If the Lapines were from Sherwood, and they weren't overly well off… She felt like kicking herself. These were Robin Hood's people. And the sheriff in his stories wasn't exactly one of the good guys. "I'm not that kind of sheriff," she mumbled.

"Of course not," Mrs. Lapine replied pleasantly enough, though she still kept her eyes downcast and it was plain that she didn't believe a word Emma had said.

Emma looked helplessly at Gold. He sighed. "Ms Swan chose to accompany me as a," he hesitated for the barest of instants, "a friend," he finished, shooting her a look that was nearly as apprehensive as the one on Mrs. Lapine's face as he did. Emma nodded quickly and his nervousness abated somewhat. "I assure you," he added quickly, "that's the only reason she's here. And I won't disturb you much longer. Really, I'd been meaning to call on you before this; your son's lost object merely gave me the pretext."

"For…?"

Rumple took a breath. "Your eldest tells me that I… Well, I believe I knew one of your forbears. A woman named Morraine?"

All at once, Mrs. Lapine relaxed. "Mad Morraine, they called her," she said, a lilt coming into her voice. "Though I daresay it's a common enough way to dismiss those who speak uncomfortable truths. And, yes," she switched back to her normal voice matter-of-factly, "Cecily told me about that incident; I must thank you for seeing to Aggie's splinter." She smiled a bit more easily and when she spoke again, the lilt was back. "It's hard to say now, what's truth and what's legend," she continued with the air of one giving over a story she'd told countless times before, "but one thing that's agreed is that Morraine was an infantry soldier in the Second Ogre's War on the day that the Dar—that you," she amended hastily, "put an end to that whole wretched campaign and won the field for the Frontlands…"


Rumple wasn't at home and he wasn't at the shop. Belle felt her dread mounting. Where was he? Why wasn't he here? She felt as though she might fly apart and she needed him to tell her that she was okay.

I thought I didn't want him to lie to me.

Anyway, she'd had so many things happening to her in such a short time. Happened to. Her lips pressed together in a thin, grim line. It sounded as though she'd just been standing around minding her own business and she'd just happened to exile her husband in a fit of fury. She'd just happened to begin a new relationship on the rebound and, when confronted over it, tried to somehow make it all about Rumple and nearly lost him for good. She'd just happened to slug the Blue Fairy in a fit of anger when she'd really wanted to slug herself. She'd just happened to go off on what she'd thought was a heroic quest to retrieve Rumple's heart without asking for help or telling anyone where she was going and ended up losing the heart and committing murder—and whatever face Whale tried to put on it, she had killed someone. She'd just happened to have a confrontation with her father…

She shook her head in disgust. Things hadn't just happened. Accidentally or deliberately, by accident or design, she'd made them happen.

And if she'd darkened her heart? Her mouth went very dry.

She'd made that happen too.

And now, she didn't know what she was going to do about it. Or if there was anything that she—or anyone else—could do. Rumple would probably have the answer.

Belle just didn't know whether he'd have the courage to tell her.

Or whether she had the courage to hear it.


Emma was silent as she and Rumple made their way back down the Lapine's front walk toward the car. It wasn't until she was reaching for the passenger door handle that Rumple remarked, "I suppose I should have warned you."

Surprised, she turned to face him. "You knew I'd get that kind of reception?" she asked.

Rumple reached past her to open the door and hold it for her. "I should have," he repeated. "Back in our land, people who lacked a certain… social standing… learned quickly to be wary of those in authority. When the first Curse brought us here, it proved something of a leveller in that regard, but the Lapines weren't here then."

"I figured it had more to do with my being sheriff," Emma said, getting into the car. "I mean… Robin Hood."

A wry smile came to Rumple's face. "Ah, yes. Well. That sheriff would have warranted the reception you received. And perhaps the addition of hot peppers to his tea or, perchance, an antimony pill."

"Antimony?" Emma repeated.

"Its effect on the digestive system is similar to that of prunes," Rumple explained, his smile turning mischievous. "Though a good deal more… powerful."

"Oh," Emma replied, smothering a smile of her own.

"Well. I suppose if we're going to return to that cellar," he sighed, "then—" His phone vibrated and he fished it out of his coat pocket. "Belle," he said, his smile vanishing to be replaced at once by a worried expression. "She… she's asking me to meet her and I believe it may be urgent. Shall we part ways here, or would you prefer a drive back to town?"

Emma sighed. "You know as well as I do that the odds that we were going to find anything there that we didn't already spot were slim. And without my car, it'll take me over an hour to walk back." She reached over her shoulder and tugged on the seatbelt, locking it in place with an audible click. "Better drop me off in town; I can always come back in my bug if I need to."

As Rumple went around to enter by the driver side, Emma reflected that she wouldn't have blamed him for coming up with an excuse to avoid the errand. She knew that while he'd agreed to help her look around, he hadn't been looking forward to it. But her superpower told her that he hadn't made up some pretext. Belle had called him and he did think it was important. She just hoped that it wasn't the kind of 'important' that would involve 'savior stuff'.

There had been more than enough excitement in town already.


Gold dropped her off in front of her parents' building, but she didn't go inside. Instead, she walked over to where she'd parked her car earlier, got in, and started driving. She wasn't planning to go back to the farmhouse now. She really wasn't sure where she was going, but Gold had given her a lot to think about and driving was usually when she got her best thinking done.

It wasn't until she was coming up the motel's driveway that she realized she'd been meaning to come here all along. She asked at the front desk for the room number she was looking for and was slightly surprised when the clerk Granny had recently hired gave it to her. Evidently, customer confidentiality wasn't the big deal here that it would have been in the city.

She went upstairs and knocked once on the door she wanted. She heard movement inside and, a moment later, the door opened. "Emma!" Lily was surprised to see her, no question. But she seemed more confused than angry.

Emma gave her a small smile. "Hi, Lily. I… just wanted to come by and see how you were doing."

Lily's eyes narrowed suspiciously for a moment. But then, she smiled back, albeit more warily. "I'm okay, I guess," she replied. "You… uh… wanna come in?" She took a step backwards and held the door open wider.

Emma nodded, still smiling. "Only if you're up for company," she said.

"Uh... Yeah," Lily said, her tone warmer now. "You know? I kind of think I am…"


Belle was waiting for him nervously at home. And while she seemed to be in marginally better shape than she had been when he'd found her at the well after Cruella, it was clear that she was still distraught. "Belle?"

She drew a shuddering breath, but when Rumple hastened toward her, she shook her head. "I-I need the truth," she gulped. "N-not what you think I want to hear. The truth."

Rumple couldn't help but feel a surge of his old, familiar fear. He hadn't been deceiving her, not this time. Whatever she suspected—and it pained him to think that she suspected him yet, he only hoped that he could convince her that she was mistaken. "Of course," he said quickly. "What is it? What's wrong?" What is it I'm supposed to have done this time?

Belle took a deep breath. Then she let it out and took another. Each time, she started to say something, but stopped herself. Finally, she asked, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Am I… going Dark?"

Rumple felt his heart sink. "Wh-why do you ask?" he managed.

For a moment, Belle didn't answer. Then, her words tumbled out at a rush. "Because it feels like I'm always angry, a-and jealous. Sometimes I want to hurt people, and-and I do it." And then, almost defiantly, she added, "and I'm not always sorry afterwards!" She turned away abruptly. "I thought admitting I had a Darker side was better than suppressing it, but the more I try to let it out, the more I find myself saying and doing things that I… I…" She spun back to face him once more. "Have I? Darkened my heart, stained my soul, I don't know… Have I?"

She'd asked for honesty. And though his first instinct was to lie, he shook his head sadly. "I don't know." He took a cautious step toward her and when she didn't draw back, he continued. "As far as your heart, we can ask Regina to examine it. The soul, well that's a trickier endeavor."

"I don't…" Belle took another breath. "I don't know if I want to know. What if I have? What if…?"

Rumple hesitated. And then, he put his hand on her shoulder. "Then we shall face what lies ahead together." He waited for her to meet his eyes. "I-I won't deny that there was a time when I thought that a Darkened soul was a doomed one. That once one turned one's back on the Light, it would reciprocate the shunning. But Belle, here in this town, there are a number of individuals we can both name who've disproved that belief. Regina. Snow White."

"You?" Belle asked, smiling a bit, though tears still glistened in her eyes.

Rumple coughed. "My circumstances are a bit more… extraordinary. True, I might have given myself over to Darkness, but my Darkness was, by and large, external. As was the means of throwing it off. I'm not saying I didn't fight to be free of it, but my battle wasn't what yours is likely to be." He put his other hand on her opposite shoulder. "Semantics and specifics aside, while it is your battle, you don't need to fight it alone."

"I don't think I can," Belle murmured.

"Well, I certainly couldn't," Rumple replied with the barest hint of a smile.

Belle hesitated. "What if it's not… only… the Darkness? What if some of it's just… me?"

Rumple took another breath. "Well," he said, "I'd say that you were in good company. Particularly at this precise moment."

Understanding dawned on her face and she let Rumple pull her into a hug. "Will it be… will we be enough?" she mumbled.

Rumple stroked her hair. "I don't know," he admitted. "But if you wish to involve others, we shall. I… do think that Regina and Snow White would probably have a clear understanding of your situation. And if you'd prefer someone more objective, there's always Dr. Hopper." He felt her stiffen in his arms. "Belle?"

She exhaled. "It's silly," she murmured.

"Clearly, not to you."

"No," she said, lifting her head, though making no effort to break free from his embrace. "No, it is. He had nothing to do with anything."

"Sorry?"

Belle sighed. "During the First Curse, I was… well, you know where I was. Thanks to Regina," she added. "If it had been a-a cell at the sheriff station or something, I think it might have been different. But it was in the psychiatric ward. And Dr. Hopper is—"

"—a psychiatrist," Rumple finished, feeling a wave of understanding wash over him. "You believe that he would…"

"Send me back there? If he decided that I was a-a danger to the town, how could he not?" Belle sucked in another breath and exhaled. "I told you it was silly. I-I don't honestly believe he would. Most of the time. But there's still this… this voice at the back of my head that whispers at me, asking me, what if I'm wrong? A-and I don't know if I'm brave enough to find out." She buried her face in his suit jacket. "And what if I do need to be there?"

"You don't," Rumple said firmly. "Or rather, if you do, then so does the majority of the town. More to the point, Archie Hopper has never committed anyone to that ward yet and you won't be the first. But," he added, "if you don't want to involve him, you certainly don't have to." He took another breath. "For what it's worth," he added, "I do understand. Perhaps a bit better than you think. After Zelena, I considered talking to him. And decided against it for much the same reasons you've voiced." When Belle's head jerked up in surprise, he nodded. "I'd just got free of one cage, after all. I'm sure you can see why I'd be in no hurry to enter another."

Her head was back on his shoulder as she hugged him tightly. "Oh, Rumple…"

Her phone rang then, startling them both. "I… uh…" Belle slid out of his embrace apologetically and fished the phone out of her pocket. "It's Astrid," she said. "M-maybe she's someone else we can… involve." She pasted on a bright smile, picked up, and, in a voice that was almost normal, said, "Hello?"

Rumple watched as her smile grew concerned. "Oh, dear," she said. "Yes, of course. I do have… some experience with babies. I'll be there soon."

She ended the call and looked at her husband. "Zelena was at the motel earlier looking for Lyncoln. She scared Roland and… well, now, he won't settle down and Astrid is having a hard time between trying to calm him and dealing with the baby; apparently, Robin's out for the evening. Anyway, she asked if I could go over there and help her; she remembered I babysat Neal a while back." She smiled. "Maybe that's what I need right now: a chance to stop dwelling on my own worries and help someone else."

Rumple nodded. "You might well be right. Shall I drive you, then?"

Belle shook her head. "You only just came home and then I… dumped all of this on you."

"I didn't mind," Rumple protested quickly.

"I know. But there's no need for you to go out again now. It's a fine evening and Granny's is only fifteen minutes' walk from here. I'll go myself." She smiled. "I can use that time to think a bit."

"All right, then," Rumple agreed. "But I shan't be going to sleep any time soon. If you'd like a lift home afterwards, please don't hesitate to call me."

"I won't," Belle assured him. She went to the vestibule to get her coat. Rumple followed. Before she left, she turned on her heel and flung her arms about him once more. "I love you," she whispered.

"And I you," Rumple replied, nearly as softly.

In the days ahead, they each would have occasion to be glad of that exchange, for it would be longer than either dreamed before they would have another like it.


Belle had read once that 'colic' was what doctors called it because it sounded so much better than, "We have no more idea why the baby is crying than you do." She'd smiled at the time, but it wasn't nearly as funny when the infant in question had been wailing for going on ten minutes!

Finally, though, while Belle rocked her, Lyncoln's cries died down to whimpers, and then she lolled her head against Belle's upper arm, closed her eyes, and fell asleep. Belle kept rocking. "Hard to believe," she murmured finally, "that she can look so angelic now after howling for—"

Astrid looked up from the book she was reading with Roland. "That's babies for you," she smiled. "At least, so I've seen; it's not like I've ever had one of my own."

"Will you ever?" Roland asked innocently.

Astrid shrugged. "I guess Fate will decide that," she replied. Her eyebrows shot up. "But you know, if there's a wishing star out tonight, I can always ask."

"A wishing star," Belle repeated. "You mean, like the one Anna had."

"No, not exactly," Astrid replied. "I mean, yes, there's a magical device of that name, of course. But a wishing star can be a real star, too. Here," she said, getting up and moving toward the motel room window. "I'll see if I can point one out."

"No!" Roland exclaimed, seizing hold of her wrist before she could take another step. "No, don't open the window!"

"Roland!" Belle said, speaking softly so as not to wake the baby. "Whatever—"

"You can't open the window!" Roland said, lowering his voice too, but not its intensity. "The shadow's out there."

"The shadow?" Belle repeated.

"Pan's shadow. It tried to get me once. It'll come back!"

Astrid sat down again on the edge of his bed, gently pulled out of his grip, and wrapped her arm about his shoulders. "Oh, Roland," she said. "I heard it from Tink. Pan's dead. His shadow can't hurt anyone anymore."

Roland blinked. "Promise?"

"I promise. Look," she said, getting up again. "Let me just pull up the shade so you can see for yourself there's nothing out there. Nothing but the moon and the stars," she added cheerfully.

Roland pressed his lips together. "Just the shade? You'll keep the window closed?"

"I'll keep the window closed."

"I'll do it," Belle said, getting up with a reassuring smile. She pulled the cord to lift the blind. "See?" she beamed at Roland.

Roland didn't smile back. Instead his eyes widened and he flung himself at Astrid. Astrid wrapped her arms around him instinctively, as Belle turned back to the window—and let out an involuntary shriek. As she looked out through the glass into the night, a pair of malicious dark eyes glittered back at her from the other side of the pane.