August Booth couldn't be Baelfire. Except…
He could be.
After he'd left the convent, he wasn't sure what he was feeling, so he did the only thing he could do to escape the emotions. He sat down at his wheel in the shop and decided to think instead of feel. The only problem was that he wasn't entirely sure what he should be thinking about either. He'd spent the rest of the entire day considering what he'd learned, and so far, he'd come up with uncertainty.
What were the chances? Could it be that after all this time, after all he'd done to get here, that Baelfire had found him? He went through the clues over and over again in his head, all the hints that worked in his favor, all that didn't.
What didn't fit? There was only one thing he kept coming up with over and over.
They'd met.
They'd talked.
The Blue Bug had claimed that Booth hadn't yet talked to his father. But…that could have been explained easily by saying that they hadn't spoken about their relationship. And other than that one little detail…everything else fit!
He was someone who had been separated from his father in a "difficult" way. Booth could have been lying. But he'd found that every lie had a kernel of truth to make it truly believable. If Booth was Bae, then a "difficult parting" was putting it lightly. They'd been ripped apart by a bean provided by none other than the Superior Bug herself.
And then there was the knife.
Booth had a picture of the dagger in his room, hand-drawn, detailed! His damn name was spelled correctly on the thing! Those were details that only Baelfire would know, and Bae…Bae had always loved drawing just like Milah. It made sense that Baelfire would draw the dagger from memory; he'd done things like that all the time when he was little.
And then there was that one undeniable fact. The Seer had put Booth's face in his head! She'd given him the knowledge that he knew Baelfire! Was it possible he knew Baelfire because he was Baelfire? Was Booth using a false name because he wasn't from here? Was it possible there were no records or hints of who he was because none existed? Because August Wayne Booth was just the name he'd come up with when he arrived? Was it possible, that after all this time, after all he'd done to get to this world, back to his boy, that his son had found him instead?
"A young boy will lead you to him…to what you seek…the boy will be your undoing…" That was what the Seer had said about getting his son back. A boy…Henry had been in the store that morning when Booth had come in. He'd only gone into the back because he'd been looking for something for Henry. It was the first time he'd taken a good look at the man himself. So, in a way, a boy had led him to him.
Everything fit.
So then why hadn't he come to him in that way?
If it was his son and he'd come all the way to Storybrooke from…wherever in the hell he'd come from, why hadn't he said something? Why all the cloak and dagger? Unless…
Unless he wasn't here to see him, unless he was here for a different purpose.
The dagger…
Baelfire had inherited Milah's artistry. They both had usually drawn things that they wanted. For Milah, it was always far off places that she had never seen, places her head invented. Baelfire had usually drawn pictures of people, himself surrounded by a group of friends or the pair of them together. But it wasn't a picture of his face he'd found in his room, or even Emma's or some mysterious person he'd never met and couldn't identify.
It was his dagger. That suggested that perhaps he wasn't here to see him but rather to find the dagger.
Baelfire was here to retrieve his dagger? But…but why unless…unless he wanted to end this. Could that be it? Could that be the reason for the distance for not revealing himself? Was he looking for the dagger to…to get his revenge? To punish him for leaving him alone in this world? To take the Curse away from him once and for all. Was he here to kill him?
"Issues to resolve between them"…he knew those had existed in spades! But were they really enough to turn his once gentle, brave boy into a revenge-seeking killer? Was that why he didn't want to come to him? To talk to him?
Maybe he was lucky that he hadn't come to him. He wouldn't even know where to start with him if he did. What was he supposed to say to him? What could he say after what he'd done? "Sorry" didn't seem like enough, and yet the word felt like it weighed a million pounds on his shoulders.
He hadn't felt this human in years, not since Belle. Despite his spinning, his chest felt tight, and his heart was beating wildly out of control. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He hadn't thought it might happen like this. He'd always thought that when this happened, he'd have time. He'd space to think about what to say to his son when he saw him again, about how to talk to him. He hadn't planned for this. He hadn't considered that Bae might find him, and he'd have to convince him to come clean!
He didn't realize what he was doing. He couldn't ever remember deciding to walk across the street when night fell and up the stairs to a humble office door. He hadn't realized he'd done it until he found himself knocking on the door of Archie Hopper.
But he doubted himself. The second his knuckles heard his own loud rap on the door, it jolted him into awareness.
What was he doing here? What was he going to say? Tell the cricket about his son, the one thing he refused to do with anyone, including Belle? He was mad to think he could! It was stupid to be here.
He'd made it approximately two steps before he heard the door whine open behind him, and he felt as though he'd just swallowed his heart. "Mr. Gold?" the Cricket inquired. "Are you here for the rent?"
He sighed. "Why does everyone ask that?"
"Well, because you, uh…never mind," he stuttered, putting his hands in his pockets and watching him with odd eyes. "Would…would you like to talk?"
Talk. Talk about the son he never talked about? To a bug? To the one part of all of this that didn't fit. The Dark-Haired Stranger knew Archie. But Bae had never met Archie or even Jiminy; he'd been gone before then. Unless…Superior had said Booth wanted counsel. He hadn't been watching him closely before today. Was it possible Booth had talked to Archie before? Maybe he did know him. Maybe they had talked. But did he? The answer was no, and yet when he pictured Booth's face…he saw Baelfire and felt his gut wrench and-
"I don't know" was what came out of his mouth.
Archie stepped back, away from him, providing a clear entrance into what he was sure he called an office. "Well, um…if you'd like to get something off your chest, please come in."
He paused for a moment, to think about it, to consider the implications of going into that room and talking to anyone about anything. Not only was he the Dark One, but he was also Mr. Gold. He didn't talk to anyone if he could help it. But…out of all the people in Storybrooke that would talk about him behind his back, Archibald Hopper was the least likely to do it. Cricket, conscious, psychologist…even if it was from a Curse, maybe it was the latter he needed the most. His son had been here in this world likely for a long time, and he hadn't a clue what was in his head. Maybe Archie would. And if it didn't work out? If all this failed…then when the Curse broke, he could either convince old Archie this was his Cursed self talking or, of course, give the Cricket a memory potion to forget it all. With magic on his side, he'd be able to do anything. With a bit of courage, he might be able to have this conversation.
The office was cozy. It was small, just a single room that he rented to him for a grand a month, but Archie had managed to make it comfortable; cushy chairs and sofas, soft lighting, a gentle paint color, even the dog was comfortable. He was lying inside the office on a thick dog bed with a fresh bowl of water and a toy bone nearby. Pongo. He should have known that he'd have a place in the office. Here in Storybrooke, there was rarely one without the other.
"Please, sit down…" Archie motioned to the small sitting area. He looked his options over with discomfort. He wasn't a "sofa person." He much preferred an armchair, something that exuded power and strength, something that he fit in. But there was nothing here that fit that description. It all seemed carefully chosen to make the individuals in the room equal; his least favorite word.
With a sigh, he accepted his fate and sat down on the couch opposite Archie. He tried for a moment to sit back, make himself comfortable but soon gave up. There was no possible way to be comfortable with all this. Why pretend?
"So…what would you like to talk about? What's on your mind?"
What wasn't on his mind? How in the world was he supposed to say it? "There is someone in my life I have been searching out for…for quite some time. I think…I think I might have found him."
"Tell me more. Who is this individual?" he asked gently, holding eye contact in a way that continued to make him uncomfortable. He tried not to think of when he'd met him as a boy when he'd first saved his parents or given him that tonic. Two lives…he hated how this damn Curse could muddy the waters.
"Not many people know this…"
"Whatever you tell me in this room is strictly confidential. It doesn't go beyond that. I could lose my license if I told anyone."
"Yes, I am a lawyer, Dr. Hopper; I know the ethics you are bound to are similar to those I am bound to."
"Right. I'm…I'm just trying to help."
"I have a son."
Suddenly the stone-cold look that Archie had been wearing since he saw him in the hallway, the look of gentle concern and sympathy vanished as his jaw dropped.
"A son?!" Archie blanched as he sat there, wringing his hands between his knees. His reaction wasn't much better, his heart sped up, and he felt like he was sweating bullets. After all this time, he'd finally said the words out loud for the first time in decades! And if that was how he reacted to knowing he had a child, he'd hate to see how the town would react if they knew about Belle. Now he knew why he'd kept it a secret for so long. This didn't feel good; it didn't feel right. "Wow, I-I didn't know you had a son. How…how old is he?"
It was a fair question. But one he didn't have the answer to. He'd always thought of Baelfire as a boy. But depending on the passage of time between here and the Enchanted Forest…he still could be a boy, but he could also be Booth's age, or his age, or hell even Granny's age! He couldn't even begin to answer that question, but how could he tell the Cursed Jiminy Cricket that?
"Let's start with something easier."
"O-Okay. Um…what do you mean to say that you may have found him?"
"Let's just say there's someone acting the way I would expect them to act."
"So, you…so, you recognize him?"
"Maybe. Or, perhaps, I'm just seeing what I want to see. I don't know…" he whispered. That was the biggest problem in this. He didn't know, not yet. He didn't have enough proof. If the Dark Haired Stranger, Booth, knew his son, couldn't Baelfire just as easily have told him about the dagger? No. Not Bae. He'd have known better. Wouldn't he? There was no telling after all the time that had passed.
"Okay, well, I mean, wouldn't he recognize you?"
"There was…conflict," he admitted, wishing he could remember Mother Superior's words. "I'm not sure he's ready for a tear-soaked reunion."
"So, he sought you out, and he's hanging back?"
He looked up at Archie hopefully. Yes, that was the heart of the issue, potentially. Perhaps the Curse had done the cricket well.
"Maybe, he's watching to see if he's welcome. Looking for a sign that all is forgiven."
He shook his head. "No, no, no. He's not the one that needs to be…" he had to pause to catch himself. He'd gotten worked up over the notion that Bae had done wrong when in reality, it was him who had done wrong. That didn't mean Archie needed to know that. And besides, if Booth was Baelfire, and he'd drawn out the dagger, then forgiveness might be the least of his problems. "I think he might still be very angry."
Archie took a breath, considering. "Anger between a parent and a child is the most natural thing in the world."
Not this kind of anger. "I think he might be here to try to kill me," he admitted darkly.
"Ah. Right. That's…that's not," the Cricket replied, obviously trying to find the words for the bombshell he'd just dropped onto him.
"I let him go. I've spent my entire life since trying to fix it, and now, he's finally here. And I just don't know what to do."
"Be honest," he insisted without a moment of hesitation.
He scoffed. It was so very like the bug to suggest such a thing. He had a feeling that after what happened to Geppetto's parents, honesty came easy to the insect. Perhaps he didn't understand that it didn't always come easily for everyone else.
"Just tell him what you told me, and ask him for forgiveness. And when you're face-to-face, you'll know what to do."
"Honesty's never been the best color on me."
"There's no other way," he insisted.
That was what he was afraid of.
This was a difficult chapter to write because I honestly couldn't see Rumple going to Archie to talk about this. He's such a private person; watching him suddenly decide to go and spill the beans seemed super out of character. I did my best to try to push him, to get his emotions to an overwhelming place so that he stepped outside and really found himself in Archie's office before he really could second guess it or think twice. And the act of having him think through all those options of how he could combat this truth if he decided he didn't want to share it was really done to protect him in a way, to prove that he is already thinking of outs as he recognizes that it's not something that is in character for himself.
Thank you, Grace5231973 and Alarda, for your reviews on the last chapter. Much appreciated. I am eager to hear what you'll think of this one, with the beginning added onto the seen scene. I hope you'll find it acceptable, or at the very least plausible. I think that was ultimately what I was going for in this chapter, plausibility. Peace and Happy Reading!