"My fortune read, It's never too late to become what one could have been."
― Cynthia Hand, The Afterlife of Holly Chase

Stave 6: Never Too Late

Even as Rumple gazed on his lank-haired, fish-eyed, golden-skinned, giggling doppelganger, its face shifted into Zoso's wizened, fawning mien. A moment later, it stood tall and imposing as Gorgon the Invincible. (For once, he was in his human form and not that of the Bandersnatch he'd so favored in life.) Then it dwindled again, its features turning more delicate as it assumed Nimuë's features. As Rumple watched, the spirit's face became that of each of his predecessor's in turn, all leering, laughing, and rubbing their hands in glee.

How had he not realized who his escort had been? The changing heights, the glittery skin, the…

And how had he not recognized the scenes unfolding before him for what they were? In this future that he'd been shown, he was no more. There was only the Dark One, or more accurately, the Darkness. No human host to temper it, no human desires to channel it; the Darkness was only grasping, unchecked malevolent power, inexorably consuming anything in its way without mercy or pause.

Terrified, Rumple backed away, even as his face-shifting companion advanced, stretching out his claw-like hands again, not as a friend, not as a guide, but as a predator. "No!" he choked, summoning up a teleportation spell, but panic shattered his focus. He took another backwards step and bumped into something hard and unyielding. "No!" he screamed. "No, I reject this future! D'you hear me? I reject it!"

He closed his eyes and clapped his hands to his ears, trying to shut out the roaring winds, the crackling energy, and the mocking laughter. It didn't work, not completely, but at least the sounds were somewhat muffled. And somewhere, in the recesses of his mind, other sounds, other voices surfaced, far more clearly.

"Don't give into despair, no matter how… logical it feels."

"There is still a chance for you to escape the doom that awaits you as I could not. You shall have the opportunity."

"If there was no hope for you, Rumpelstiltskin, then there would be no point in these visitations."

"Whether you believe it or not, you really do have a chance."

"If you weren't worth helping, or if you were beyond help, we wouldn't be bothering."

"Change may not come easily, but never think that it can't come at all…"

And, Rumple wondered suddenly, if these spirits were here for his welfare, then why would the last have taken on the seeming of that which sought his demise?

The answer came in a moment of blazing clarity.

It hadn't.

The Darkness sought his death, yes, having sucked nearly every bit of sustenance it could from him it was ready to either jump to a new host or break free entirely of its old one. But the Dark Ones? They knew better than anyone the terrible price of the power they'd been given, just as he had. As he did. They all knew the truth.

Darkness needed to be kept in check, however barely. It needed a human host with human frailties. Without one, yes the Darkness would reign unchecked and unfettered…

…And it would consume untold universes when it did.

Darkness couldn't create, not truly. It could twist and warp what Light had created. It could trick others into serving its purpose. But it couldn't create anything on its own. It could only destroy. Unrestrained, cities, realms, worlds, in the end, it would devour them all. And with nothing new to fuel it, it would ultimately devour itself. It was inevitable. Its power was too vast, too consuming, too all-encompassing too…

If he was a phantom, then what the hell had he just banged into?

His eyes flew open and he was back on Main Street, standing in the rubble on what was left of an empty street, his back against the ruins. He cast a startled glance at the spirit, who, suddenly serious, pointed down at the gutter, where something pale gleamed. That was right, Rumple realized: no matter where he'd been taken on these journeys, it had always been Miners' Day. He dug in the leaves and the muck and almost laughed with relief when his fingers closed on something hard and waxy. "You…" he gasped, "you really are here for my welfare, aren't you?"

Without waiting for an answer, he raised the item he'd uncovered, an item he knew could dispel the Darkness in a heartbeat.

If he started trusting his instincts over his logic, even with no proof, no evidence that this could possibly work.

…A single candle.

He had no match and he had no tinder, but he did have his magic. He might not have much left, but then he didn't need much. Dark might be all he had available, but if he was using Dark Magic to fight Dark Magic…

"Burning the candle at both ends, dearie?" he whispered, half sarcastically, half fearfully. Perhaps he was. But wouldn't that, however briefly, create a brighter blaze? He didn't know and he was out of time and maybe this was that leap of faith that 'Emma' had been hinting at; who knew anymore. But something was better than nothing.

Anything was better than nothing.

He waved his hand and a jet—not of smoke, but of a clear, steady light—shot forth from his fingertip and ignited the flame.

Wondering, but knowing that he had no time now for pondering, he raised the candle higher, brandishing it before the crackling maelstrom of shadow.

The Darkness screamed.

Then it exploded.

And the moon and the stars shone down from the heavens once more.

He was back in his bedroom, back in his bed, and the shade was up and the sun was rising. He sat bolt upright and practically leapt to his feet, barely noticing the slim leather-bound volume that fell to the floor. He ran to the window. From his upper-floor bedroom, he could see clear to a beautifully-intact Main Street. He made his way down the hall to one of the spare rooms that gave him an unobstructed view of the town square. The dwarfs were hard at work setting up a stage and hanging banners. He frowned. Setting it… up? Shouldn't they be taking everything down now? Unless…

Below, he could see the Zimmer boy, Nicholas, out delivering flyers on his bicycle for Mr. Clarke's pharmacy. He opened the window and stuck his head out. "Nicholas?" he called. "Why the to-do in the square? Is there some celebration today?"

Nicholas looked up, tilting his head to one side. "I-it's Miners' Day, Mr. Gold," he called back incredulously. "Didn't you know?"

Miners' Day! He shut the window and stood for a moment in the centre of the room, grinning like a fool. He hadn't missed a thing! There was still time! There was still hope! There was still a little girl whose life was hanging in the balance, and he knew exactly what it would take to heal her. But there was one ingredient missing. He knew exactly where to find it, but with his heart in the condition it was in, he didn't dare risk teleporting for it. He could drive to the woods for it easily enough, but if someone else could undertake the errand, he could start preparing everything else. He opened the window again. Nicholas was still in view and Rumple called out to him once more.

"Do you know that patch of orange lichen in the woods by the well?" he asked.

Nicholas braked and frowned. "You mean on those boulders just beyond it? I think Papa calls it… maritime sunburst?"

"Yes!" Rumple exclaimed. "Yes, exactly! Now, listen close, Nicholas. I want you to go there and fetch me… fetch me…" He cast frantically about the room, then hurried into the adjoining bathroom. Quickly spilling the bar of soap into the sink, he returned to the window bearing the brown wooden soap dish triumphantly. "Here!" He tossed the dish down to the ground. "Get me enough lichen to fill that and I'll pay you double what Mr. Clarke does for a morning's work! Be back in an hour and I'll triple it! Go!"

Nicholas broke into a startled grin. "Yes, Sir!" he shouted back, getting off his bike and stooping to pick up the dish. He slid his carry bag off his shoulder, took a moment to shove it under Rumple's hedge, and then leaped back onto his bike and pedaled off in the direction of the woods.

Rumple watched him go, a satisfied smile on his face. Then he made his way downstairs as quickly as he could. There was still much to prepare while he awaited the lad's return.

Belle was sitting in Granny's having breakfast alone when her phone rang. "Emma?" she asked, after checking the caller ID.

The sheriff's voice was hesitant. "Uh… you know that silent alarm you told me you installed in the basement of Gold's house? Sorry, I guess it's your house, too?"

"Not anymore," Belle replied. "Not since… Why are you asking about it?"

"Because the alarm company just called the sheriff station to say someone tripped it ten minutes ago. If that was you and you just forgot it was there, I'll disregard, but otherwise, I should probably check it out. I mean, with Ursula and Cruella in town…"

"Yes," Belle said at once. "I mean, no, it wasn't me. Yes, I know what you mean. I'm at Granny's right now. I can meet you there in five minutes."

She actually found herself hoping that it was Ursula or Cruella. Actually, she was hoping that there was some other explanation like an electronic glitch. Because she'd installed that alarm specifically to alert her in case anyone went into Rumple's magic workshop and the person most likely to do that was Rumple himself. If Rumple was back in town, after everything that had happened, she wasn't sure what she ought to do. Sitting here and dithering wasn't the right thing though. She hastily finished the last of her pancakes, drained her teacup and got up, slipping on her coat and buttoning it on her way out the door.

By the time Nicholas returned, Rumple had the laboratory apparatus set up and a flask of liquid boiling away on a Bunsen burner. "That was faster than I'd dared hope you'd be," he told the boy gratefully, as he quickly counted off a number of bills from the wallet he'd found in his dresser drawer earlier.

"That's too much," Nicholas said quickly, when Rumple added another twenty to the pile. "I-I was thinking. Even what you promised me is… It's not right to take that much from you. Especially since I'm still going to do the deliveries now." He took one twenty from the stack and thrust the rest back toward Rumple.

Rumple shook his head. "Keep it. A token of my appreciation," he smiled.

Nicholas tilted his head to one side. "You… You are Mr. Gold, right?" he asked nervously. "I mean, you're not Sheriff Swan testing one of those disguise-yourself spells?"

Rumple's smile broadened. "I assure you I am," he paused for effect and gave the boy a slight bow, "Rumpelstiltskin. At your service," he added. "Or will be, once I've completed this task," he went on briskly.

"Uh, sure," Nicholas said. "Okay. Well, if we're done," he went on, "I'd better get back to my job."

"Not to school?"

The boy blinked. "It's Saturday."

Rumple's eyes widened. "So it is," he said. "Saturday and Miners' Day. Imagine that…"

"Uh huh," Nicholas pumped his head up and down, looking more and more uncomfortable. "Uh… right. Well, I'll… see you. Maybe." He backed away from the door slowly. Several steps down, he practically ran for his bag and pedaled off on his bike as quickly as he'd gone the last time.

Rumple didn't bother watching him go. He was already back indoors and halfway to the cellar with the lichen.

He'd just turned off the Bunsen burner and set the flask aside to cool when he heard the doorbell. Curiously, he made his way back upstairs to answer.

Two pairs of eyes widened when Rumple opened the door. Belle had been turning her key in the lock when he did.

"Rumple," she breathed, a rush of emotions battling across her face.

"You are back," Emma said at the same time.

Rumple nodded. "I am, yes. And while I understand you must have questions and concerns, I'm afraid I've no time to answer them now. In fact, I may not have time to answer them later," he admitted, a bit more softly. "But I will if I can." He started to shut the door, but Emma quickly thrust her foot in its way.

"Not good enough," Emma snapped.

Rumple sighed. "No, I never have been. But there may yet be time to change that, at least in some small matter." The elixir should be cool enough by now and he needed to get it to Paige quickly, if what the spirit had shown him earlier was true. She was weak now, and if she grew much weaker, the remedy might not suffice. "I've wasted enough time," he said, still speaking softly, without the icy edge that would have accompanied such words in time past. "A young girl's life is hanging in the balance. I need to get to her quickly. Come in if you must." He turned on his heel and strode quickly back toward the cellar.

Emma and Belle exchanged startled glances. "Okay," Emma murmured. "That's new."

Belle nodded. "I've seen him obsessed before, but not like this. Even when he was working on what must have been the Dark Curse, he wasn't this… driven. And what did he mean about a young girl's life?"

"Well, we won't find out just standing here," Emma pointed out. "Come on."

As he'd thought, the elixir was safe enough to handle now without burning his fingers, and he corked the flask, not really surprised to hear footfalls on the cellar steps a moment later. He squared his shoulders resignedly, as they came down. "I really don't have time for explanations," he said. "I need to go."

Emma took another step forward. "You said a girl's life was in the balance."

"Paige Hatter," he said, hoping that would suffice. "This really can't wait."

"Rumple…?"

He hesitated. Perhaps, a quick explanation would serve him better than a long evasion. Slowly, he reached into his chest and pulled out his heart.

Two pairs of eyes widened.

"Rumple?"

"Gold?" Emma asked at the same moment.

He shook his head. "Centuries of Dark deeds take their toll. When it blackens completely, I will…" He hesitated. "I hope you still have the dagger."

"Ye-yes," Belle confirmed. "But what does that have to do with—? Are you saying it can fix… that?"

A sad smile came to his face. "Hardly that. No. Belle, I may have given you a false blade once, but I gave you my heart long ago. And now," he thrust it toward her, "I give it again. But with a difference. Watch it carefully, Belle. For should the final glimmer of light be lost, so shall all else be. Before that happens, you must use the dagger as you did before, to send me back over the town line. If the Darkness consumes it there, I will… Well, it will appear as though I've suffered a cardiac arrest. It's happened before, but then medical care revived me. I don't intend to give it another opportunity; you can make your mind easy about that. But here, where magic thrives, once the Darkness finishes consuming my heart, it will be freed to devour more. You won't be able to stop it, though I daresay you'll all die trying. For the sake of this realm and all the others, I cannot be within the town boundaries when my heart fails. I'm trusting you to ensure I won't be."

"I'm not hearing this," Emma snapped. "There's got to be something we can do."

"I've told you what you must do," Rumple countered. "There's too little time left to me to waste arguing. I mean to spend whatever time remains to me trying to, in some small way, do what I could have, should have been doing all along. Perhaps, but a little, perhaps late in the day, but I must try. And you must make sure that, in the end, I don't undo even whatever small good I can yet achieve. Now, please," he thrust his heart once more at Belle, practically pressing it into the hands she reflexively raised, "take this… and get out of my way."

Emma tilted her head to one side. "You could have teleported," she said slowly. "If time's of the essence like you're saying, then instead of expl—Using magic makes it worse, doesn't it?" she guessed.

"I use Dark magic, dearie," Rumple snapped. "Could you resolve an overdrawn bank balance with a check drawn on that same account?"

"Calm down," Emma said at once. "I just wanted to make sure I understood. Okay. C'mon. I took a Sheriff's department car to get here. If you can't transport yourself, I'll drive you to Jefferson's." She smiled, as she rested a hand on his shoulder. "Lights and sirens all the way."