In the End
She's distant. She's always at a distance.
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She's distant. She's always at a distance.
Even in his dreams he couldn't seem to touch her—she lingered in a place just beyond his reach. But somehow that still hadn't stopped his father from getting his filthy little hands on her and stripping her away.
In the end, that is.
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There was a beginning. And it started long before there was ever a Neverland between them.
He thinks on that often afterwards.
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But they haven't gotten there yet.
There's more to tell first. So Emma finds him alone.
Pacing absently in a secluded space below deck he's claimed for mourning. No one else would dare disturb him, but she comes along without much thought about things like repercussions.
She's decided to be uncommonly vocal about her fears; tells him that she's scared that her insecurities will get the better of her. And will only lead to her son's undoing.
Rumplestiltskin scowls at her choice wording, but nods his acknowledgment. Yet he offers her no reassurances. He too has his doubts.
Inevitably he uses Emma's confessions as a means against her—for a reason, of course; to inspire her sense of belief. But still, as he stood there and made that grand and seemingly necessary speech—leather clad, and eyes laid solely on her—it was quite nauseating for him to realize how capable he was at hurting her like that as oppose to simply offering her a moments comfort in her time of need.
That final twist of his cane had felt a great deal like a knife to her heart.
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That's a sick sort of irony now.
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It's too late.
He can't decide if it's solely self interest, or a common goal that drives him.
Or what she has to do with any of it.
The green-eyed girl shakes her blonde head and calls him a coward. Rumplestiltskin clutches the once precious doll to his chest and still says nothing to her at all.
So she lingers amongst the shadows, and waits in the darkness by his side. But the heavy silence remains. An answer will only make her leave.
And he doesn't want her to go.
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He won't ever let her go.
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"There's always a price with you."
Emma stated the mantra blandly, jaded eyes ever prying for true incentives as he casually offered to save her precious father.
He glances away but tells her truthfully, "I assure you that this is a one time deal only."
She stops abruptly. He does the same. While the others carry on without notice to either of them. They turn and face each other. And he sees that she doesn't believe him—not fully—but neither does she attempt to argue the point.
She purses her lips, but then nods her head. She's elected not to push it this time. So she turns and continuous on. Rumplestiltskin watches her briefly, and then moves forward as well.
It seems she's chosen to accept his apology.
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But she'd been right all along.
There always was a price. He just hadn't meant for her to be the one to pay it.
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On the ship ride back there are brief and bright rays of light after the absolute blackness that was Rumplestiltskin's—thankfully temporary —entrapment within Pandora's Box.
And it's, surprisingly enough, not just the warm embrace of his son's forgiveness.
No, there had been another flash as well. And somehow the thought of redemption finally attained was overshadowed and eclipsed by the most singular and simplest of things; her smile.
The one of gratitude and relief Emma had given to him freely as he'd laid the cursed object in her hand and told her that it was over now.
Her son was safe.
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That was a lie, proven soon enough.
But how was he supposed to know that at the time. He had been too blindsided by her happiness to notice his one tragic mistake.
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They'd all come together that day, and had their triumphant return to Storybrooke as one.
And celebrations were long and joyous, but have since come to an end. It's late into the night, and Emma's standing in his shop for no apparent reason at all. Other than she wants to be.
He'd been dwelling; reminiscing and feeling a rare sense of closure and peace. And now Rumplestiltskin wanted to know what this feels like for her.
"Like coming home," she said before he has a chance to ask her properly. "I'm home." Then she looked at him wistfully.
"I don't want this end"
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But it does. And he's the one who has to live with that.
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It's the first time he's kissed her, and it shouldn't have been the last.
But her fate was already sealed.
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"A heart's desire."
Pan explains. He's changed the spell, you see—for the Dark Curse, for his Dark Curse—and made it his own.
But it shouldn't have been possible; stealing it away from her. Rumplestiltskin makes a point of saying it out loud—for whom, he doesn't know—and so there may be hope of saving her yet. And he needed to hold on to that.
But his father only smirked triumphantly and somehow clinging to such a small belief suddenly felt like nothing more than a fool's errand. Because his father's cunning knew no bounds.
And Pan never fails.
But it's only when he finally see's her body laying before him—broken, and a mess of blonde hair and blood—does the full horror of what's been done to her become unbearably clear.
She was a child of true love. Her heart could not be taken. But just because Pan couldn't take it from her magically didn't mean he couldn't take it from her at all.
Rumplestiltskin crumples to the ground defeated. Gathers Emma's now lifeless—and heartless—body in his arms and cradles her close.
It saddens him unexpectedly; the sudden thought that her beloved parents won't even get a chance to see her one last time before she's gone—stripped from all their minds—and forgotten completely.
Emma deserved more. She deserved a better ending than this.
"I think I'll let you keep your memories…" Pan mused cruelly; clearly delighted by the sight of his son's despair, "…of her. It's the least I can I do, laddie."
The curse hits. And then that's all that's left of her.
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This time there would be no Savior to save them all. But he's the only one who knew that.
In the end, that is.
Author's Notes:
First off...the periods in-between scenes were intentional. It was the only way to get the visual structure I wanted for this story. I can be pretty particular about these sorts of things (it's a quirk). I just hope no one found them to be to much of a hindrance.
I meant to have this done before the finale aired but clearly that didn't happen. But I finished it and went totally AU for this-imagine a world where Belle's not around, and Bealfire is only Rumple's son. And everything ends horribly.
xoxox