He may not have understood how his power of foresight worked after all these years, but his magic, on the other hand, he was perfectly in tuned to. In using golden thread for the magic he'd given Jiminy he'd managed to place a tracker of sorts on it. It was a simple spell, just a little one to let him know first that it was used and second, where to pick up the remains.

He wasn't foolish; he hated Myrna and Martin, they were irritating beyond belief, but every time he went through the bags of goodies that they brought to him, he had to admit that they did have their usefulness. Trinkets were important. No, they might not be something so special as to get him from this world to a Land Without Magic, but if having the gift of foresight had taught him anything, it was that even the smallest of things could serve as stepping stones. One deal could lead to another, one piece of the puzzle would solve another. Jiminy had no idea who he was really dealing with, nor did he know about his son, but his association with him was key to finding the dark-haired man who knew him. One step, then another, that was how he was going to get back to Bae. Step after step after step…and now, the active magic sent a tingling ripple through his scaly flesh that told him he'd be keeping those smaller steps intact and in a much more sensible, much less mouthy, way.

Jiminy had used the potion. The spell had taken effect. But where it was…

He didn't need to, but he moved to the window anyway and let the chilly breeze take him over. Winter would be coming on soon, making the castle unbearably silent, dull, and cold. He'd need to move on, find something to occupy his time. Perhaps if he found Myrna and Martin, it wouldn't be such a bad winter after all. Perhaps…

They were moving. He felt his brow furrow in confusion. If he'd done his job right, there was no reason what he'd created was moving. And quickly too, as if…as if on horseback? Or maybe in the cart? He was stumped. Jiminy was a good boy who knew to fear him, he'd told him to leave what he'd done behind when he left, but the only logical explanation for the motion was that he'd taken his parents with him! Unless, of course, he'd failed!

No. No, that wasn't possible! The Dark Ones of old laughed with him at that thought, and it was well deserved. He knew this magic. He had been the Dark One longer already than half of them and had all of their combined knowledge. He hadn't made a mistake. So then how were they moving? How had he misjudged Jiminy so poorly?

Desperate for answers, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated.

Nothing happened.

After a growl of irritation, he took another deep breath, closed his eyes again, and concentrated…harder.

He saw flashes, glimpses.

A cricket in a suit.

An old man with bags under his eyes.

He saw a little boy with a hat beside the old man.

A polished stone with the name Archibald Hopper written on it.

Jiminy, in the woods with strange clothes and a scarf around his neck.

A white dog with black spots?

The dark-haired man who knew Baelfire, smiling this time…

He felt queasy when he opened his eyes as he always did when he forced the gift too much. Nothing, it had given him nothing! This power was nearly useless! It was just piece after piece after piece of a never-ending puzzle. He picked a glass vial off his desk and threw it at the wall. The resulting crash was so satisfying he turned back to the table and quickly pushed the rest of it off the table until he was surrounded by nothing but shattered pieces of glass. He'd been stupid and ignorant to take this burden himself. What he should have done was taken that Seer and locked her away in a dungeon so he could have used her to decipher it all. What good did images without explanation do him? And what good would it do him to go after something in motion?!

He'd learned that lesson once before when he'd gone after another prized item in motion and horses had nearly trampled him. No, he couldn't succumb to weakness now. He might not have been able to see or understand, but he would if he only had patience! He had the magic in his very skin; he just had to wait for the moving to stop. And then…

It was well after midnight when everything came to a screeching halt. And not just a momentary stop. He waited for a solid ten minutes without feeling any kind of movement before he let himself be drawn to the magic. It was only half what he expected. He'd figured that if Jiminy truly had been the one to take his prize then he'd end up in the back of their pathetic wagon. What he didn't expect was to encounter Myrna and Martin having dinner…in the flesh.

"Oh! Rumpelstiltskin!"

"Dark One"

"Sir!"

"We didn't expect to see you so soon!"

"Welcome to our home!"

Ramblings. Nothing but pitiful, stupid, irritating ramblings that should have been nothing came from their mouths, and yet he could feel his magic in this wagon somewhere. Something hadn't gone as he'd planned!

There. A small compartment with a lock on it, just behind Martin.

"You…move!" he growled, charging across the small wagon. They barely had time to scramble away before he grabbed hold of the lock, called on his magic, and pulled. It snapped off easily. When he opened it, he knew he had the right compartment but was utterly confused by what he saw. Myrna and Martin suckered people in by putting on puppet shows, and those puppets had been the inspiration for the spell he'd given Jiminy. Magic oozed out of the puppets on top, calling to him, telling him they were the ones he needed and yet…

"Now where did these come from?" he questioned, grabbing them out of the trunk. He turned to face the couple who had been thorns in his side ever since he'd first laid eyes on them! Their faces screamed "guilty" before they did.

"Nothing!" he said.

"Nowhere!" she agreed.

"Just new puppets for the show!"

"Donna and Stephen!"

"We're thinking of putting a new twist on our current tale."

"Sort of a child fails parents kind of thing."

"Enough!" he cried, raising one hand that wrapped magic around both their necks like the noose they should have been in long ago.

Myrna and Martin and their son had been wonderful accomplices for the last few years, but they'd also been reckless and moronic. Keeping them out of prison and safe from the authorities sometimes felt like a full-time job while he'd had so much more to do. They'd been beneficial, and he'd let them get away with far more than he should have, but staring at two dolls that very clearly did not bear their faces brought to light just how much he was looking forward to not dealing with them ever again. And suddenly, he didn't care if they lived or if they died. They weren't his concern anyway, the boy was. How all this had happened was beyond him, but all that mattered now was that he find Jiminy and the dark-haired man.

"Do you think me a fool?" he questioned as they sputtered. "Do you think I wouldn't recognize my own magic when I see it? Magic that I gave to your son when he wanted free of the two of you?"

Their eyes widened in fear with every step closer he took to them. For the first time since he'd known them, their vicious little smiles were wiped clean off their faces. The woman actually shook now as she groped at her neck for something she'd never find. Their eyes were bloodshot. They were dying, and he couldn't help but think of the better place the world, and Jiminy, would be without them.

"Where is the boy?"

"I…I don't know," Martin stuttered out.

"Where is your boy?!" he screamed.

"Outside! Outside!" Myrna cried as she squeezed her eyes shut tight. That might have even been a tear that escaped the corner of one. He didn't care, the only thing on his mind as he walked away and heard the bodies of Myrna and Martin fall to the floor after a crack of their necks was that he was going to get to the bottom of this failed endeavor. Who better to ask than the boy who had started it all and-

There was no one outside. Nothing but quiet. Quiet and something else.

He smelled magic. Light magic. A very distinct, very familiar brand of Light Magic.

Dolls in hand, he immediately cast his eyes up to the sky. There, clear as day, he saw a blue star.

"No!" he roared. "Jiminy! Jiminy Stromboli!" he called out, hoping that the boy would appear or race back as he was certain he would. But there was no noise, no huff and puff of breath, no heartbeat…

He closed his eyes and listened. He listened to the world around him. He used a spell to enhance what he heard until he heard nothing but his own heartbeat, the beat of the horses resting nearby, a fox, a few dozen squirrels, and the crickets. The only human heartbeat was his own. If he could call it human, of course, and right now, he wasn't entirely sure he could. As he looked up at that Blue Glowworm in the sky, the anger he felt had him feeling far more like a raging black volcanic monster than a human. In fact…

In anger he tossed is magic over his shoulder, aiming for the wagon behind and then, with a powerful bang, he felt the force of an explosion and the heat of a fire. His magic shielded him from the debris that now littered the space around him. He didn't feel any better.

Three times…he could count three times that blue bitch had interfered with his plans to find his son! Of course, she'd said he would never get to him. It wasn't fate that had driven her answer; it was her own sick desire to see him fail, to make his son go through life without him. She wanted him never to find Bae, and it was clear that she was going to stop at nothing to make sure that happened.

But not even that little witch had gifts like he had. She couldn't see the future the way he did. She didn't have the prediction of the Seer. She would lose, and he would win. That was all that mattered. He was going to get his son back, and he hoped, prayed even, that she would be around to see the reunion just so he could rub her nose in it like the mutt she was! But in the meantime…

He'd be patient, he'd find Jiminy, he'd find the dark-haired man, he'd find Bae! And he may not have Myrna and Martin the way he'd intended. But the figures he held in his hand reeked of his own magic and confirmed that his spell had been successful. Who they had been didn't matter, what they were now was all he needed.

"You'll both do just fine. I have plans for you…"


Ooo! There are plans for Donna and Stephen! I started recording Rumple's scenes just before season three aired, when I started on the first Moments fiction and got tons of requests to write for him. In addition to recording his scenes I also kept a list of questions that went unanswered. The question that has been at the top of my list for well over seven years was always "why did he want the freaking dolls?!" It always seemed like such a waste to me! Why go through the trouble of creating them and then bringing them up over and over and over again if nothing was ever to be done with them! Well, I had an idea somewhere around season five and I gotta tell you that when the show wrapped I was super excited they hadn't covered those dolls because I had plans for them and I am happy to finally be able to share those plans with you!

Thank you Grace5231973 and Jennifer Baratta for your reviews on the last chapter. I know there is a lot of anger in this chapter but I hope you think it's a fitting end to Jiminy's centric episode and especially for Myrna and Martin. Get excited! I am so excited for this next round of chapters! You know that list of questions I had? Well, in these next few chapters we'll be answering three of them-including how Rumple uses the dolls! Stay tuned ya'll, answers are coming at you! Peace and Happy Reading!