Squid Ink was a poison that attacked not the body but magic.

In a normal human body, when poison was introduced, the body had systems in place to seek out the toxin, to either fight off its effects or rid the body of it before it was too late. Sometimes it was too late. Sometimes the human body found that it couldn't fight off the poison before it weakened the body to the point that it couldn't fight anymore, and an individual died. But sometimes, it was just a matter of time, letting the body do what it was programmed to do so that the poison was expelled, and the body could heal itself completely.

Squid Ink wasn't deadly as poison could be to humans. In the Enchanted Forest, he'd read a few stories of weak witches and wizards who had encounters with it and lost all their magic, but he'd never seen it with his own eyes. In a wizard, such as himself, Squid Ink attacked the magic within him, making it difficult for his body to function. Talking to Baelfire before he'd left had been a feat, but he'd managed. Now, slowly, the magic he'd felt zapped inside of him the second the ink touched his body began to grow. He felt it start to hum and move in his body, felt it begin to awaken, and then felt it start to fight back. He imagined it as he felt it. He imagined that moment the bits and pieces of his magic stopped being passive but grew strong enough to overtake the poison. After he reached that point, it was only a matter of minutes until-

The spell on his body broke a little less than thirty minutes later, though perhaps "broke" was a kind exaggeration. He could move again. His magic…well, just as the body was still weak and needed healing after the poison was expelled, his magic was still weak and healing. It would be a bit of time until he could use his own magic to its full extent. And that was a problem because he needed it now badly.

Thirty minutes and he was free; that was frightening. How long Squid Ink held a magical being depended on several factors and a little luck. If he'd had his equipment when he'd made it, he might have been able to make something a bit more certain. But without it, he'd had to use his best judgment. He'd have bet that the ink would have held someone like him for about an hour, and yet…

Thirty minutes. It had been half of what he'd expected.

Here, on this island, and without his dagger in hand, he reckoned that he and Pan were of equal strength. If he was free, then that meant Pan, who'd been dosed before he was, likely was free too. Which meant…

Bae!

Henry!

He had to go after them! Even if he didn't have magic, he had to find them, he had to-

"Why, Rumpelstiltskin?" A voice in his head questioned.

Nimue.

He should have known that she'd be here, that she'd been waiting for the perfect opportunity to speak to him, to convince him once more that all this was for not and he should run. The trouble was that he wouldn't give her much of a fight.

Why go? Why continue? Why find Bae and Henry? What would it accomplish? Bae didn't trust him; he'd made that abundantly clear when he'd picked up Henry and carried him off, gods only knew where. Would chasing after them prove anything?

Pan had done his work and chosen his words well. He'd taken away his ability to explain simply by planting the seed in Bae's head and letting it grow. Not that it was entirely Pan's fault. Pan may have given him the seed, but the soil...he'd been responsible for that. Bae had a point. After everything he'd done, why should he have trusted him? If he went after him now, was there anything he could say to make him know that he wanted to help, or would it only cause more damage as he spent his time trying to save Henry from him instead of Pan.

And something at his heart itched. Literally, not figuratively. He pulled the doll in his coat out again and reignited the fire, wondering how he was suddenly right back where he'd started.

"I'm so sorry, Rumple," Belle muttered as he turned to find her sitting there. He'd half expected it to be Nimue. "Neal should have trusted you."

"How could he? After everything I've done…"

"Well, he may not know what was in your heart, but I do," she smiled, resting her hand upon his arm as he came to sit beside her. Before, that hand had been comforting, not as comforting as the real Belle, but it had offered something. Now…it just made him feel cold, despite the fire. "You would've protected Henry. You would've even given your own life to show Neal that you've changed."

Would he? That was what he'd said, and he'd meant it, but…he couldn't deny that what Bae had said had merit too. He'd been in this position before, thinking that he'd accept the fate the Seer offered him, and he'd gone back on it too many times to count. Would it have been different this time? Could he have overcome?

"Are you asking me, or do you truly believe that?" he asked, turning to Belle, his own inner voice made flesh before him. She leaned in closer.

"I know it with all my heart," she smiled, that same perfect imperfect smile that she'd had since he'd summoned her to the island. A stupid thing to do, really, a terrible way to work through all these issues, evidenced by the fact that it wasn't working!

"What I don't know is why you look so upset right now," she went on. "I mean, Rumple…he's alive! Baelfire. You have something to live for!"

Yes, he did. And that was what was making this even harder, especially coming from Belle's mouth. Because whether he wanted it to be or not, even now, he could feel the temptation to do as Bae said, go home with him in tow, marry Belle, start a family…and then what? Happily lay down when they had more children who were Henry's age? Would he really be "okay" with that? He wanted to believe he would be. But now…now he wasn't sure.

"But the prophecy remains," he commented, moving away from her. "Henry's still my undoing."

"That's why you're upset? You were so determined to die for the boy, but now? Having something to live for has brought back that nasty habit of self-preservation, hasn't it? Rumple…habits can be broken, can't they?"

He didn't understand. He couldn't decipher her argument. Was it for or against him? Did he want to save Henry? Or did he want to kill him?

"Go away, Belle," he commanded. He was uncertain of his answer but very certain that he didn't want to hear it at that moment. And that spoke volumes to him. "I don't want to talk right now."

Welcome back! This last trip was the shortest of them all, but it felt like the longest. I'll admit, I'm starting to grow weary of all the travel, and yet...the last and final trip is right around the bend. On Saturday, I leave again for a week, so while I'm back, I'm only going to have chapters for you through Friday. That's the bad news. The good news is that it's a straight shot through to the end of the fiction once I'm back. So, two more weeks of dealing with some sparse posting, and then we're back in the predictable game, and oh, how I long for it.

Thank you so much, rsbeall and Grace, for your reviews on the last chapter. I'm so thankful that you enjoyed it. Though this one is short, I'm hoping you'll not only enjoy it but also begin to see some of the places where "this is a figment of my imagination" start to crack and fall apart. That first time, Belle was there, and she certainly seemed to mimic his thoughts and subconscious. That's not really happening anymore, to the point that she is beginning to say things that are in direct opposition to his thoughts. It's hinting, big time, that there's something wrong, and yet. He doesn't really seem to notice. I can't really say that I blame him. I don't think he's in the right head space to notice. I hope that you enjoy the short chapter and the end to 3x04, finally! We're moving on to 3x05 tomorrow but don't get too excited, the next few episodes will feel like they are passing quickly. Strange how time works in Neverland. Peace and Happy Reading!