A/N: No, I don't know why Ashley would be closing at Granny's, what with running a daycare and all, but S1E1 of OUATIW (Down the Rabbit Hole) establishes that she does. So, chalk it up to the lady needing a second job, or something she used to do back in S2 but gave up at some point after the Rabbit took Will to save Alice, and since Will's been out of Storybrooke since then, he doesn't know things have changed.

…Some cling so hard to "Good", as if everything in the universe had, inscribed somewhere upon its atoms, a little sign that said "here is good" or "here is evil". They absolutely need to believe in Good, and they need to believe they're on its side. Because with doubt comes the possibility of being wrong, and once you think there's a chance you could be wrong, you have to deal with that annoying, tricksy little problem: "What if I'm not doing the right thing?"

—Jeff Mach, There and NEVER, EVER BACK AGAIN: A Dark Lord's Diary: (A Memoir and Manifesto For Villains and Monsters) (p. 16). FastPencil Publishing. Kindle Edition.

Chapter Twenty: Doubts and Possibilities

"I think I saw a pump on the other side of the farmhouse," Regina said quietly. Rumple's sobs had subsided to sniffles, but he was still huddled in her embrace and she had a strong sense that he'd topple over if she released him now. "You probably want to wash your face before you rejoin the others."

Rumple didn't reply, but she felt his chin nod into her shoulder for a moment, and then he twisted in her arms and she loosened them.

"Feeling a bit better?" she asked.

Rumple swiped at his eyes. "I can manage," he said, his voice scarcely louder than a whisper. "I… hadn't planned to…"

"No, I didn't think you had," Regina replied, almost unconsciously leaning forward to present her shoulder. He braced one hand on it and rose to his feet.

"No reason for it," he muttered. "The crisis is past. The witch is no longer a threat to anyone. The dagger is back in my possession. So, why…?"

Regina hesitated, uncertain whether the question was rhetorical. Finally, she ventured, "Maybe because you finally can. Just a theory, but if I'd been in your place, I'm fairly sure I'd have kept my emotions in tighter check than usual. If you've been keeping it all in for this long, now that there's no longer a need, well, I'd say an eruption of this nature was understandable." She sighed. "Wash your face. We'll go back to the barn to rub out that working. We'll collect Robin and Hook at the same time. Then, assuming you feel up for it, we still need to raise that protection spell and after that…" she pulled out her phone, turned it on, and slid her fingers over the touchscreen. A moment later, she looked up with a smile. "Well, Belle's been awake long enough to send me a half-dozen text messages asking after you. Might want to check if you can find your phone, once you've had a chance to settle in again," she added. "Should I ask her to meet us here?"

Rumple shook his head. "Once that spell is up, I shan't stay here another minute. Is she still at the hospital now?"

"She doesn't say. Do you want me to ask?"

"Please. And if she is, tell her I'll be there directly."

"And if she's not?" Privately, she thought a visit to the hospital wouldn't go amiss for him in any case, but her sister was alive, Rumple had agreed to talk to Archie, and maybe for today, that was enough. Still, she did feel a twinge of disappointment at Rumple's reply.

"The shop."

"Rumple will be joining us in a minute," Regina said matter-of-factly, as she stepped back into the barn. The two men inside looked at one another and then back to her with near-identical expressions of relief.

"We thought that was probably you two, pulled the witch out of here," Robin said. "But I judged it prudent to await your return before venturing out, in case we were mistaken." He jerked his head in Killian's direction with a quick smile. "Had a devil of a time convincing him though."

"Well, I'm glad you waited," Regina replied pleasantly, though inwardly she breathed a huge sigh. Rumple probably would have been mortified had there been more witnesses to his collapse a few moments earlier. She quickly brought them up to date on the deal she and Rumple had struck.

When she was finished, Robin said, "So, for the next year, she'll be…"

"In the storm cellar, yes," Regina nodded.

"Well," the outlaw replied, "I suppose I'm not particularly broken up over such a fate. Uh… beg pardon, milady. I'm not forgetting that she's your sister."

"And you're not forgetting the lengths she went to in order to get my heart. How is Roland?" she added.

"He's a resilient lad," Robin said, smiling a bit. "But I doubt he'll shed many tears when I tell him what's become of her."

"On the one hand," Rumple's voice spoke up from behind Regina and all three started, "I had no choice in my actions while she held my dagger; if I had, I certainly would have chosen differently than to terrorize a five-year-old. However," his shoulders sagged a bit as he moved forward to stand at Regina's side, "I can certainly understand why you… why both of you might believe an apology is the very least that's owed you."

"Perhaps," Robin said, "but when a man's wounded by a bowshot, the blame devolves on the archer, not the arrow." He hesitated. "Was it truly necessary to threaten Roland, though?"

Rumple winced. "Zelena knew you held Regina's heart in," he glanced briefly at the queen, "more ways than one. She ordered me to obtain it in the manner that would cause you the greatest anguish. Had she not," he went on, turning back to Regina, "it would have been a simple matter for me to obtain some object of yours, pour a locator spell on it, and release it in the vicinity of the camp." He looked at Robin again. "An object so imbued returns to its owner. Or their closest living body part," he added.

The pirate sighed. "As much as I think you might have enjoyed carrying out her orders against me somewhat more, I've… known servitude. Scarcely servitude of the magnitude your dagger wields over you, I grant, but enough to have some understanding of your circumstances. In other words," his scowl twisted ever-so-briefly into a fleeting smile, "the truce we struck on the voyage to Neverland is still intact." He shrugged. "Of course, if you'd prefer otherwise, I won't hold you to it."

Rumple's eyebrows lifted. "Another day, perhaps," he replied, just as nonchalantly. "But for now, I seem to have lost my appetite for bloodshed."

"Ah." Killian smiled. "Well, I suppose it's just as well I feel the same way, at the moment."

"Do you?"

"I'm sure it's just a temporary aberration on both our parts," the pirate added.

Rumple's lips pulled upwards almost of their own accord. "No doubt."

"I mean, come tomorrow, we'll likely each be imagining the other's demise. Both of us wishing the truce wasn't holding us back, but neither of us wanting to be the one who breaks it."

If Rumple didn't miss his guess, there was just a touch too much bombast in the pirate's assertion for him to be entirely serious. "I'd say that's an… accurate assessment," he agreed blandly. "And of course, that would be the only thing holding us back, correct?"

"What other reason could there be?" Killian asked with altogether too much innocence.

"Indeed."

"I mean, it's not as though we're ever going to be friends or anything."

Rumple snorted. "Certainly not."

"Well, good," the pirate said chuckling a little. "So that's clear."

"Yes, of course."

"And so long as we both understand that much," he pulled out a familiar metal flask and thrust it in Rumple's direction, "rum?"

Rumple blinked. "I…" This time his smile didn't vanish almost as soon as it appeared. "Thank you. Yes. Though I trust you won't be insulted if I don't indulge until we've raised the protection spell. I rather think I'll need all my wits about me for that."

Killian nodded. "Take your time," he said, pocketing the flask once more, as he scuffed his boot in the soft dirt, blurring the concentric circles Rumple had etched earlier. "I'm hardly about to interfere with that."

In a clearing in the woods, Will Scarlet wandered aimlessly, trying to shake the cobwebs out of his head. With the pendant off Zelena's neck, he was human again. And thanks to Regina's breaking the Dark Curse, he had his memories back. At least, he had some of them. Forgetting spells weren't curses, but when one was dropped into a cauldronful of Dark Curse, its power combined with the magicks already in the pot, adding its strength to the curse. And when that curse had broken, the forgetting spell had dissolved for everyone—even those who had received their dose before the curse had hit. Unfortunately, Will had been dosed with two forgetting spells. And while one had broken, the other was very much in force.

Will rubbed his forehead as though that would clear his thoughts. The last thing he remembered was… was… What the bloody hell was it? He'd burned too many bridges in Wonderland, he remembered that now. He'd got the rabbit to take him back to the Enchanted Forest. Not that he had many friends there, now, but at least he didn't have anyone trying to kill him!

He'd thought that he and Ana would always have each other, but she'd turned her back on him for jewels and a title. He'd asked the Queen of Hearts to numb the pain he was feeling—stupid in hindsight, but it had felt like a bloody good idea at the time. Only, why was he feeling so much pain now, if she still held his heart? He put his hand to his chest and was stunned to feel it pulsing. "Must be me imagination," he muttered. "Me thinkin' it's still there when I know 't'isn't."

Bits and pieces came back to him as he walked through the woods. The Queen didn't have his heart. Alice had got it back for him before she'd gone back to her land and he'd gone back to his. Hadn't been able to bear the thought of putting it back in his chest, though. And then…? Purple mist, days that blended into a haze until they didn't and… and…

He shook his head. The Evil Queen's curse had brought him to this land and had him thinking he'd been here all along. And part of him truly wished he still thought that way. Then he wouldn't remember Ana's betrayal or how stupidly he'd allowed the Queen of Hearts to enslave him. Well, she was gone now. Dead, as he recollected. Life wasn't so bad here; Storybrooke was a small town and most folk didn't lock their doors at night, so the pickings were lovely. Moving through the trees, he came across a marked path, pointing the way back to town. He smiled. He thought he recalled where he lived now. Cupboard was like to be bare, but not for long. All he had to do was wait till midnight when Granny's closed. With any luck, Ashley would be just as careless with her keys tonight as she always was and he'd have himself a midnight feast all by his lonesome. He just had to be certain he was quiet enough that the old biddy wouldn't come out from the motel to check out any disturbances with that crossbow of hers. Life without Ana might be a misery, but life it was still, and Will wasn't quite ready to cash his in yet.

"It's clear," Rumple said. He, Regina, Robin, and Killian were standing by the road, just outside the farmhouse property line. "Apart from your sister, there's neither human nor animal on those premises, though I can't vouch for a lack of insect life."

"We've done our best," Regina nodded. "We can't go chasing out every ant, spider, and ladybug." She frowned. "You sure you feel up for this?"

Rumple gave her a hard smile. "All magic may come with a price, dearie, but this one will be resources well spent."

"Okay," Regina said, nodding again. "When you're ready…"

Both spell-casters raised their hands. Purple smoke and white light intertwined weaving a dome-shaped web that rose over the farmstead, encompassing fields, barn, house, and storm cellar. The image held for a moment, before the web thinned and faded.

"Is that… it?" Robin asked.

Regina nodded. "Every living creature within that boundary is now stuck there for as long as the spell lasts. From this point onward, anyone else can enter and leave freely, but they won't be able to bring anyone or anything inside that barrier back out with them unless Rumple and I are both here to lower the protection."

"So, you can't free your sister without his knowledge and," Killian turned to Rumple, "you can't spirit her away without hers." He frowned. "But what's to stop you from killing her here? Or worse?"

Rumple blinked. "I don't break deals, dearie," he said in surprise. "And Regina and I've struck one."

"I mean no offense," the pirate said slowly. "But you've never been one to miss a loophole if one exists. I must confess that I'm curious as to why this deal should be any different."

A faint smile graced Rumple's face. "I suppose, I could say that it's because I was asked nicely not to seek one out this time," he returned. Seeing Hook's skeptical expression, he shrugged. "I might also suggest that it was refreshing to have an agreement presented to me that took my interests into consideration without my having to fight for them. You might want to file that away for future reference," he added. His smile broadened. "And then there is the small matter of death presenting an end to the witch's suffering. Whereas having her confined to a cage in a cellar for a year, barring brief periods of supervised exercise? Why would I want to put her out of her misery, dearie?" He locked his eyes with the pirate's. "Choose the answer you like best." He shrugged. "And in any event, the barrier will record anything that transpires therein. An added precaution set up, in part, to allay any concerns such as the one you've just voiced."

Killian nodded slowly.

Regina had been looking at her phone during that exchange. Now she turned to Rumple. "I'd suggest one of your first orders of business ought to be locating your own phone," she informed him. "Because I've no intention of acting as your message center for much longer. However," she continued, "Belle is on her way to the shop as we speak. Whale wants you to contact him at your convenience. And David and Emma are also trying to get in touch with you."

Rumple frowned. "There shouldn't be any new threat to the town at this juncture, I wouldn't think," he said slowly.

"If there were," Regina replied, "I believe I'd have received a similar communication. No, I think they might just… want to talk."

Rumple nodded. "Then in that case," he said, "if it's nothing urgent, I believe it shall have to wait. I trust you'll ask them to give me some time alone with Belle before they start breaking down my door?"

Before Regina could answer, he was gone in a puff of purple smoke.

Regina and the others looked at one another. Regina sighed. "Well," she said, "as I mentioned to Rumple earlier, I'd like to get a better look at my step-grandson now. And I imagine you both have people you'd like to look in on at the hospital as well?"

Both men nodded. Regina lifted her hand to cast a teleportation spell. An instant later, the road was empty.

It was, Rumple thought as he looked about the shop floor, almost as though the previous year had never happened. Someone—Belle almost certainly—had evidently been sweeping and polishing here; even if the second curse had only restored the town a few weeks ago, there would have been some accumulation of dust otherwise.

The merchandise was much as he'd left it; he recognized each piece at a glance, right where it was supposed to be. A mirror caught his attention and he was surprised to note that he, too, looked much the same as always. He would have thought that his recent ordeals would have stamped their impression on his countenance, but apart from, perhaps, looking a bit wearier than usual, there was no outward sign of everything he'd been through recently.

He shook his head and turned around to fetch a polishing cloth. Much like spinning, dusting and polishing helped to clear the mind and relieve stress. Or, at least, much like spinning had used to. He rather doubted he'd be getting back to the wheel any time soon.

Behind him the bell over the door jangled. He turned to face the newcomer a bit too quickly, and his foot twisted, sending a jolt of not-quite-pain-but-definitely-discomfort up his leg. He caught the edge of the counter for support, biting back an oath as he did, and looked up.

Belle stood in the doorway, the sun behind her casting her into silhouette. "Rumple?" she asked, hurrying forward.

"Belle…" His voice was almost a whisper. As though speaking her name aloud would end the dream and he'd wake up back in the cage, or worse. But then she was behind the counter with him, her arms about him, and he was hugging her back and she was stroking his hair, warm and real and alive and loving and...

"I knew you'd be back," Belle whispered.

He looked into her blue eyes and shook his head, smiling as he felt tears burning his eyes once more, even though he'd thought he'd already cried the last of them. "Your unwavering faith," he murmured, "constantly astounds me. And after everything I did…" There was a lump in throat suddenly, and he had to stop.

"It wasn't you," Belle said. "It was Zelena."

"Not always," he pointed out, easing out of her embrace, but still clasping her hand in his. "I will never comprehend why you continue to stand by my side."

Belle shook her head. "I love you," she said simply. "Always have." Her smile grew warmer. "Always will."

"And I you," Rumple said, almost marveling that he'd got those words out. But since he had, it made the next ones that much easier. "I… If you recall… after Neverland, we were beginning to plan a future. Or," he winced, "perhaps I was… planning to. Fate intervened," he added, wincing a bit. Oh, this was coming out all wrong. He shouldn't have even started—

"I remember," Belle reassured him. "It's one of the last memories I had of you when we arrived here again after Snow White recast the curse."

"Yes," Rumple nodded. "But had Fate not stuck its oar in, I…" He took a breath. "I was going to ask you to marry me. I-I mean, I daresay if you were to accept, I'm not an easy person to live with at times. And I don't know that you'll have many friends who'll be comfortable visiting at the house…"

"Yes," Belle replied.

"You know better than most what I endured over the last year and as much as I want to put it behind me, I'm afraid some of those wounds will be a long time healing. If they ever do," he added.

"Yes."

"A-and…"

"Rumple," Belle said, grasping his free hand in hers, "I said 'Yes'." She laughed. "Yes. I'll marry you."

A broad grin spread across his face as he pulled her closer once more and the tears that had been welling in his eyes finally spilled over and down his cheeks.

Several hours later, Rumple finally made his way home. He'd been gratified to find the spare key in the safe where he usually kept it. (His regular key had got lost somewhere in the middle of death, resurrection, enslavement, and captivity.) Belle had gone back to her apartment at the library for now, but in a few days, he knew that she would be back for good.

Good. Not a word he usually considered applicable to his life or circumstances. His eyes narrowed, when he saw the sheriff department car parked outside his front door. Case in point…

He walked over to driver-side window. "Something I can do for you, Sheriff Swan?" he asked mildly.

Emma had, evidently, missed his approach, for she started in her seat. Then she shook her head. "Actually," she said, "I… uh… stopped by to ask you that myself."

Rumple blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Emma winced. "I… Look. You and I've had our differences. Obviously. But one way in which we're both pretty much the same is that we each have a hell of a hard time asking for help when we get in over our heads. Dad… told me some of what happened to you over the last year—"

"Save your pity for someone who needs it," Rumple cut her off curtly. He'd displayed more than enough emotion for one day, thank you very much. He was scarcely prepared for yet another bout of sobbing, though after everything that had befallen him over the last few months, he couldn't rule out the possibility, should this conversation persist along the path it seemed to be taking. Better by far to end the conversation and quickly.

"It's not pity," Emma countered, ignoring the hint. "It's… me trying not to be that person anymore."

"That person," Rumple repeated. "You're asking for my help with some matter, then? Because for that sort of business, I'd really rather you stopped by the shop during normal business hours."

"No," Emma said. "I'm sorry. It's coming out all wrong. I didn't mean… I mean… When I said I don't want to be that person anymore, I meant, I don't want to be someone who stops by the shop asking for your hel—I mean," she corrected herself with an embarrassed smile, "your expertise and then avoids you until the next time I need it. That's not asking for help, by the way," she added. "That's using people. Using you," she went on. "It's not right now and it wasn't right before and I want to stop."

Rumple shook his head. "Well, you scarcely need my permission for that. And if you're looking for a pat on the back, it's been a long day and I'm rather tired."

"I know," Emma said. "And I'm not looking for validation. I guess I just stopped by to let you know that the next time you think you might need some favor, you… don't have to lock me into a deal first. I get that it's easier than asking, but… maybe try?"

"Well," Rumple said dryly, "I can see how such a change in my behavior would benefit you lot, but where's my advantage?"

"I work better when I don't resent having to do the job?" Emma said with a slight shrug. "Look. A while back, you challenged me to take a leap of faith. How did you put it…?" She frowned. "'The kind where there's absolutely no proof?' I think that was it. Well, you weren't there to see it, but after you left the ship, I did. We'd captured a mermaid. She summoned a storm but it was like we were fueling it. I know you caught the end of… me being a spoiled brat to my parents. Well," she winced, "I wasn't the only one. Yeah, we were all stressed and pissed off and everything, but we were bickering like kids and the worse we got, the worse the storm got. By the time I noticed it, everyone else was too far gone for me to try reasoning with anyone. Plus, I didn't know how I was supposed to convince them that I was right when I wasn't sure myself. Arguments feeding a sea squall? I-I mean, it sounded like a crazy idea then."

"Only because you'd never encountered a mermaid before," Rumple murmured, no longer frowning. "Well. Since you all survived, suppose you… cut to the chase, and tell me your point, dearie, hmmm?"

"We survived because you were right. I did have to take a leap of faith. Turns out," she smiled a little ruefully, "a leap of faith looks a lot like a leap into the ocean in the middle of the worst storm you've ever seen."

Rumple's eyebrows shot up. "And that action shocked the others out of their anger, they focused on rescuing you, and the storm abated."

"More or less what Mom told me afterwards, yeah," Emma nodded. "I wasn't on board to see it all come together."

"Well. It's a fine tale," Rumple allowed. "But what does it have to do with me?"

Emma sighed. "In order to get us through the storm, I had to… take a leap of faith, yes. But that leap? It wasn't charging a dragon with my dad's sword or fighting your dad to save Henry. Not then. It was… I learned pretty young that the only way I was ever going to get anywhere in life was if I fought tooth and nail for it and never let anyone know when I was in trouble. But with the storm, I had to throw that out the window, turn into a… a… damsel in distress and trust that this time, someone was going to notice."

Rumple felt his face harden and evidently, Emma saw it too, for her voice faltered for a moment as she went on. "That was… probably one of the hardest things I'd ever done. And if you're even a bit like me, I-I think I know why asking you to trust we'll be there if you need us is… a lot. Only, I still think maybe that's the only way through the storm," she added quickly.

Rumple waited for a moment. "Have you quite finished?" he asked.

Emma swallowed hard. "Yeah."

"Well, good," Rumple replied. "As I told you, it's been a long day and I have no desire to continue this exchange at the moment. However," he went on, a faint smile ghosting his face, "I believe I have some idea of what it cost you to… disclose as much of yourself as you've just done. At the very least, you've shown yourself willing to reveal your own vulnerability before blithely asking I do the same. And while I'm not yet ready to agree tonight that we have a deal, well, perhaps what you're proposing isn't quite as preposterous as I'd originally believed. Suppose I were to… sleep on it for a few days."

Emma smiled. "That's fine with me," she said. "Oh, and by the way, my brother's doing fine."

"Well," Rumple smiled back. "That is good to know. So," he said a bit more crisply. "Is our business concluded here?"

"Yeah. Apart from… they're keeping Mom in the hospital for another couple of days. Whale says it's mostly for observation, to make sure my brother really is okay, and Whale says it won't hurt to keep an eye on Mom, too for the first forty-eight hours. Anyway, dad said to ask if you and Belle want to come over for supper tomorrow night."

"Over?" Rumple repeated. "I-I thought you generally went to Mrs. Lucas's establishment to celebrate."

"Yeah, well, that's going to be the coronation after Mom and my brother are back home but," she made a face, "I think dad thinks cooking together might be a good father-daughter bonding thing. At least, that was what I got out of reading between the lines."

"Ah," Rumple said. "Another leap of faith."

"Hey, I can cook."

"That wasn't what I was referring to."

"I know. You don't have to say yes right away. But if you do want to come, could you maybe let me or dad know in the morning? Especially if one of you is allergic to anything, so we don't end up serving you something that could kill you o-or give you hives or whatever."

Or bring my past ordeals violently to the fore, as they did in the cave, though I don't know whether your father shared those specifics and I rather hope he didn't. "Well. I thank your father for the offer," he said. "And I'll discuss the matter with Belle and let you know our answer. Should it be positive, then if such a list is necessary, it shall be furnished."

"Okay," Emma said. "In that case, I won't keep you any longer. Good night. Oh," she added, her smile widening. "And welcome back."

Gold's answering smile was nearly as broad and more importantly, its warmth was unfeigned. "Good night, Emma."

On the whole, Rumple thought as he made his way upstairs, that encounter could have gone considerably worse. And while he hadn't admitted it, it was gratifying to hear that the savior was trying to find some common ground. Generally speaking, whenever one of the heroes realized that their mindset was verging on alignment with his, they reacted by stepping back hurriedly and once more asserting boundaries. Magic might be Dark or Light, but as for individuals and their actions, well, those typically ran more to shades of gray.

If Emma was starting to recognize that the world would likely keep turning, even if her attitude and his weren't always diametrically opposed, then perhaps there was hope. And perhaps that hope was more warranted than the one Regina currently held for her sister's rehabilitation.

His lips curled in a sneer. She actually wanted to give the witch a second chance! What had Zelena done to deserve that? And she was just going to hand one to her (after the year was up, of course), while he would still be the town pariah, shunned and avoided unless—as Emma had so justly pointed out—they needed a favor and—

"I don't want to be that person anymore."

"When a man's wounded by a bowshot, the blame devolves on the archer, not the arrow."

"Twelve sessions… I'm hoping you'll recognize that I'm not including the directive in order to… to penalize you or because I like making you uncomfortable."

"I've… known servitude. Scarcely servitude of the magnitude your dagger wields over you, I grant, but enough to have some understanding of your circumstances."

They were giving him a second chance. Perhaps, they weren't announcing it as such, but actions spoke louder than words and even their words were a great deal more conciliatory than they'd been in times gone by…

The smile that had been slowly spreading across his face froze. They might be offering a second chance, but… he was still the Dark One. How long could he last before he scuttled this opportunity, just as he had every other one that had ever presented itself?