Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot and any unrecognizable characters and dialogue.
Shout out to bellarose-riddle for sending me a lovely set of images that made me want to finish this chapter... honestly sometimes I just want to skip ahead to the Neverland arc and to hell with the rest of the second season.
Chapter playlist: 'A Troll-Hoard' from 'The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey OST' and 'Anne Made Marquess' from 'The Tudors: Season Two OST'
Enchanted Forest
The return trip was no less painful than their departure. Though Pan had kept his promise, allowing Katerina to drink from the Neverland spring, he had been fairly inhospitable once it became more than obvious that she would live when she left the island. Clutching so tightly to Jacquimo's arm she half-feared she'd snap the bones, Katerina followed as her oldest friend led her toward the gates of Corona.
The banners - a golden sun set upon a purple background - fluttered lightly in the breeze, yet there was none of the usual chatter that filled the city around midday. Curious, she craned her head up to look at Jacquimo, who smiled sadly down at her.
"They are in mourning, princess," he whispered, clearly uneasy with the prospect of informing her all that had transpired in her realm while she'd been away.
"They think… " her voice broke off abruptly, unable to continue the horrible thought. The months she'd spent in torment, held captive by the Black Fairy and her 'son', still haunted her. A breeze caught her loose, tangled hair, and the dark strand fluttered before her eyes like a banner, reminding her of all she'd lost. "They think that I'm dead." She forced herself to finish, coming to a sudden halt as her darkened hair fluttered around her downcast features.
Jacquimo paused, brow creased in worry, and gently drew her unresistant form toward him. "Katerina," despite the heat of the day, she shivered beneath his touch and stiffened, as if about to rip her arm from his touch. The past few days had been utter hell for them both, traveling between the realms twice, and he'd been all too aware of how Katerina had flinched from his touch each and every time.
Her mouth opened, but only a strained whine escaped before it snapped shut. He watched with regret as she slipped back into the mask she'd worn in the presence of that creature, her blue eyes blank and her face like stone. Though he had seen her at court, deeply entrenched in the courtesies that a princess was taught since infancy, the sight before him was disconcerting.
"Come, your highness," he said instead, removing his hand from her person and offering his arm. It didn't escape his notice that she relaxed only after he'd left the choice of touch to her. Slender fingers trembling, she slowly wrapped them around the crook of his arm. "We had best get you home."
New York
The taxi was cramped, even with Lillian in the front seat beside the driver. Antsy, Emma was relieved when they pulled up in front of a nondescript apartment building, allowing Henry to leap out of the car and stretch his legs. Emma and Gold followed, the latter as quickly as his limp would allow, and they all stared up at the brick building as Lillian paid the cabbie and came round to stand on Henry's other side.
Emma turned in time to catch Gold's hand tighten on his cane. "What's wrong?" She asked, looking between the almost panicked expression that Gold and, surprisingly, Lillian wore. "This is the right place?"
"Yes, it is."
Correctly reading unsure expression, Emma sighed heavily. "Let me guess," she said. "He's not expecting you." When Gold did nothing to confirm or deny her assessment, she turned back to the building. "Well, who doesn't love a surprise?"
Storybrooke
Though they had been a rare sight, like other children her age, Regina had been prone to fits and tantrums when she didn't get her way. Though a sweet child when she was a girl, she'd grown increasingly independent and rebellious as the years went by. Cora remembered all too well the shock when Regina had used the latent magic within herself, in a fit of rage, to cast her own mother through a looking glass. Now, years later, Cora watched her daughter sulk about the house. She'd arrived home after going to the resident of Snow White and her prince, only to return with a stormy expression on her face and a quiver to her lower lip.
"What is it, sweetie?" She asked, placing a gentle hand on her daughter's forearm. Though Regina stiffened, likely not used to a friendly touch, she relaxed in an instant.
"It's Henry," she replied miserably, an aggrieved twist to her lips. "Emma left town with Gold and Lillian, and she took him with her."
Cora, who had heard much about her grandson from her daughter - a testament to how much Regina loved the boy, given how it had only been less than a day's time since their reunion - blinked in astonishment. "And you didn't stop them?"
"I didn't know until after they had gone."
Treading carefully, as she could practically see the hackles rising on her daughter, Cora smiled pleasantly. "I'm sure he's safe, Lilith would give her life for the boy." She reassured her daughter, who merely crossed her arms moodily. "And, as soon as Gold's done, Henry will be back."
"But not with me."
Though he'd been lazily lounging behind them, attempting to find relief from his still throbbing ribs, Hook perked up when he heard the crocodile's name mentioned. "Back?" He question, rising stiffly to his feet. "From where? Where's Rumpelstiltskin gone?"
Regina shrugged once more. "I don't know."
"Well, if he's left town, then he's powerless." Hook reasoned, with a twisted version of a smile. "He can be killed."
"The moment either of us leave, we lose our magic… and our advantage."
He raised a brow at Cora's words. "Your memories?"
"None of us were victims of the curse," Regina answered with a small sneer. "It's not about memories – it's about magic."
Hook shrugged, far more concerned with his troubles than by their own. "Well, I don't need magic," he reminded them, his phantom hand throbbing, even after all the years. "I'll go after him alone."
"Even if you could find him," Regina began, making it clear she thought the very idea beyond his capabilities. "Do you really think you can just walk up to him and stab him in the heart with your sword? With Lillian by his side?"
He sidestepped the idea of Lillian assisting her former mentor, which was not lost on either Regina or her mother. "Well, I prefer my hook, but I can't find that now." That said, he spun on a booted heel, prepared to storm out of the mansion and track down the powerless Dark One.
Before he could move more than a few steps toward the door, Cora appeared before him in a puff of red smoke, blocking his path. "You're not going anywhere."
"I deserve my vengeance!"
Though she did little more than grimace at his vehemence, Cora raised her hands in a placating manner. "You're right," she assured him, knowing that they needed him on their side. For the moment. "You're right, you do. And, with The Dark One gone, we can search for the one magical item that can actually kill him here… " seeing she'd recaptured his attention, Cora felt her lips twist into a smile. "His dagger."
New York
Four sets of eyes immediately latched onto the list of names scrawled onto the intercom the moment they entered the lobby of the apartment. Henry was the first to finish scanning the names, mildly disappointed that none of them had the name of Gold's son. Twisting his head around, he looked at the trio of adults as they pressed closer.
"No 'Baelfire'," he announced.
Emma spared her son a faint, wry smile. "Yeah, that probably wouldn't fly as an alias." Her eyes cut to Gold, who was intently staring at the list. "Your magic globe didn't give you an apartment number?" She asked, unable to keep the irritation from creeping into her voice. Gold had, against her wishes, dragged them from the relative safety of Storybrooke to find his son, who would probably end up slamming the door in their faces.
"It doesn't work that way."
Inwardly rolling her eyes at his strained reply, Emma returned her attention to the list of names, narrowing when she saw the listing that had only the apartment number on it. "Do any of these names mean anything to either of you?" She asked, wanting to knock out all their options before she went with the obvious choice.
Lillian stepped closer to Emma's other side, unable to shake the feeling of unease that permeated the air. "None look familiar," her eyes shifted to Gold carefully. "What about you?"
"Well, names are what I traffic in, but sadly, no." He muttered, looking distinctly put out by the prospect. While he had known it wasn't going to be easy to find Bae, that knowledge didn't make things any easier.
Without another word, Emma raised a hand and pointed a gloved finger at the apartment number she'd eyed earlier. "Here's your boy."
"Or, it could just be vacant."
"You might traffic in names and magic, but I traffic in finding people who don't want to be found." Emma told him assuredly, unable to believe that her hunch was incorrect, too used to trusting her gut to think otherwise. Gold watched her, with a sort of quiet bemusement. "And those sort of folks don't like to advertise their whereabouts." Without allowing him to get a word in, she leaned closer and buzzed the nameless apartment on the intercom. "U.P.S. package for four-oh-seven."
Though they answered, the person on the other end of the line didn't respond. Lillian listened intently, half-convinced she could hear breathing on the line, before it was cut off. Lips pressed into a thin line, Emma drew herself up, glaring at the intercom.
"Maybe you should've said FedEx." Henry commented blithely, vainly attempting to keep the rapidly darkening mood light.
Before anyone could react, a noise startled them all from outside. Wheeling around, Lillian saw the figure on the fire escape. "He's running," she whispered, feeling her limbs go numb at the sight. "Oh, God, he's running."
Despite his limp, Gold was at the head of the group as they rushed outside, heading for the front of the alleyway beside the apartment. A man was rapidly descending the metal stairs, his features obscured by a hood. The moment his feet touched the pavement, he broke into a run. Lillian moved, as if to follow, when Gold's hand clamped around her wrist, the touch somehow rendering her immobile.
"That… that favor you owe me – this is it." He told Emma desperately, his eyes fixed on the hooded figure as the distance between the man and he yawned wider and wider with every step. "Get him to talk to me. I… I can't run." He pleaded, gesturing uselessly with his cane.
Expression severe, Emma dipped her head once in acceptance. "Watch Henry," she told Lillian, whose pale features had turned to the color of bleached cloth. "I'll be back."
Without letting any of them say a word otherwise, Emma wheeled around and took off at a dead sprint after the unknown man. When he veered away from the back alleys and into the street, she cursed but refused to let it stop her. Neatly ducking around the cars, deaf to their honks as traffic came to a stop, she make a split decision as he darted toward another alleyway. Racing around the other end of the building, she threw herself at the man when they met around the other side.
Gritting her teeth as her body battered against the concrete, she rolled over with a groan that died on her lips when she saw the face of the man. "No… " she whispered, willing the equally surprised face before her to somehow change. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, but when she peeked through her lashes, the man staring back at her was the same as before. "Neal?"
"Emma?" He breathed in return, cautiously propping himself up on his skinned palms.
"Neal?!" Feeling oddly exposed, though Neal was in the same boat as she, Emma frantically scrambled to her feet, putting some distance between them.
"I don't understand," Neal was on his feet, hands held out in an attempt to calm the obviously shaken woman. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" She demanded, unable to stop the incredulous, hysterical note from entering her voice.
"Yeah," he took a step toward her, pausing when she immediately took one back.
If he was surprised by her hostile behavior, he gave no sight of it. "I'm not answering anything until you tell me the truth," she snapped. "Are you Gold's son?"
"What are you talking about? Who's Gold?" He demanded, suddenly lost.
The realization was cold as it spread across her skin. "You played me," she whispered, an agonized expression contorting her features. "You're from there. You played me, and he played me, you both played me."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," taken aback by the whiteness of her skin and the frightened look in her eye, Neal carefully made to step closer to her. "Okay."
"You and Gold." She said coldly, uncaring when he flinched at her tone.
"Emma, slow down," she tensed at his approach, like a cornered rabbit preparing to flee, and he stepped back a few paces. "What are you talking about? Who's Gold?"
"Your father. Rumpelstiltskin."
It was Neal's turn to look horrified. "He's here?"
"Why else would I be in New York?" Emma retorted hotly.
"You brought him to me? Why would you do that?!"
"Hey!" She cut across him, righteous in her anger. "I am the only one allowed to be angry here! Did you know who I was, where I was from, the whole time? Was this just some sort of sick, twisted plan?" She demanded so rapidly he couldn't get a word in edgewise. "Did… did you even care about me at all?"
Her voice quavered on the last sentence, and his anger immediately fled at the sight of her distress. "Emma, do not… "
"I want to know!" She erupted. "I want the truth – all of it!"
Refusing to reign in his anger, Neal snapped back, "Fine!" Calming slightly, now that his temper had had the chance to cool slightly, he jerked his head. "We… we got to get off the street. We can't do it here, we're out in the open." He reminded her quietly. She shivered at the frankly dead tone in his next words. "I… I spent a lifetime running from that man, I'm not going to let him catch me. There's a bar down the street. We can talk there."
Emma crossed her arms protectively. "I am not drinking with you." She sneered at the very thought. "Whatever you're going to tell me, tell me now."
But Neal was shaking his head. "No, bar's better." Despite the situation, despite the bad blood between them, the hint of an amused smirk flirted at the corners of his lips. "Don't worry, you can keep yelling at me when we get there."
He turned on his heel and strode off, confident that she'd follow. More than a little pissed off that he'd effectively tied her hands and gotten the last word, Emma snarled under her breath before she began to follow him, making sure to keep her distance.
Henry beamed at Gold as the man paid for the three hotdogs, accepting two of them and peering up at Lillian with a frown. She'd been attached to her phone since the moment Emma had disappeared from their view, her expression set. As she drew the phone from the cradle of her ear and shoulder, fingers flying over the screen as she typed, Henry forcibly returned his attention to Gold.
Though he was still mildly intimidated by the older man, Henry had warmed up to him considerably, able to sympathize with his predicament. While their individual roles were reversed - Henry had been abandoned by his mother, while Gold had abandoned his son - Henry remembered the fear that, when he found Emma, she would reject him without a care for how he felt.
"Don't worry," he said, beaming up at Gold, who startled at the sound of his voice. "Emma's really good at catching people."
Gold favored him with a faint, but fond smile, but couldn't force it to reach his eyes. "Well, my son's been running away for a long time now. I have a feeling he's equally adept at it."
"Well, at least we found him, right?"
"Indeed."
Suddenly remembering his manner's, Henry held up the hotdog with a sheepish smile of thanks. "Oh, and, uh, thanks, for the hot dog. I forgot."
"You are quite welcome." This time, Gold's smile was less forced, and his eyes crinkled slightly. "And thank you."
Henry stared up curiously. "For what?"
"Well, if it wasn't for you bringing Emma to Storybrooke, none of this would have come to pass." Gold smiled fondly at the way Henry puffed up, clearly pleased to be of service. The boy, it seemed, was deeply enamored with the stories from their lands. "You… are a remarkable young man." He praised, his mood darkening, thoughts slipping back to how eager and bright Bae had been as a child, before he'd ever found the Dagger.
"You know… " sensing the direction Gold's mood had taken, Henry chose his words carefully. Beside him, Lillian finally lowered her phone, listening quietly to the conversation, but offering no input. "I forgave her. Emma – for giving me up." He elaborated at the crease in Gold's brow. "She thought it was the best for me then. That's why she did it. I'm sure your son will get it, too."
Gold held back a self-deprecating chuckle. "Alas, the circumstances surrounding our separation weren't quite so noble."
"But…you're here now," Henry reminded him softly, unable to comprehend that anything else mattered. "And, you want him back, right?"
When he answered, Gold's gaze lifted from Henry's to Lillian. Her blue eyes bored into his own, and they were like chips of ice. "More than anything."
"Then," Henry began as if that settled everything. "That's all that matters."
The bar Neal had led them too was more upscale than she'd thought. As she gingerly settled on the stood, hands folded tightly together on the freshly wiped bar top, Neal waved the bartender over. Too caught up in her own disbelief, Emma barely heard the drink Neal ordered for them both, jarred from her thoughts when the small glass was placed in front of her.
"Well, what do you want to know, Emma?" He asked, knuckles bone-white as he gripped his shot. A strained smile briefly crossed his still oddly boyish features, before he sighed wearily. "You want the truth? Ask away."
"Did you know who I was when we met?"
"If I had, I wouldn't have gone near you."
Her brow creased in a black scowl. "Come on."
"Come on? Come on, what?" He demanded flatly, eyes narrowing. "I was in hiding. I came here to get… a-away from… all that crap," he finished with a mutter, well aware that he couldn't openly speak of his real reason for running away from another realm.
Emma eyed him for several seconds, and he met her eyes fearlessly, knowing he had nothing to hide from her now. Finally, it was her turn to sigh, and she slumped in her seat. "So, if you didn't know, then you were just using me. You just needed someone to take the fall for all the watches that you stole."
He bristled at the accusation. "I wasn't using you. When we met, I didn't know. I found out."
"How?"
He paused, licking his lips nervously, before he began. "When I went to sell the watches… I ran into a friend of yours," he watched her face closely, able to catch the slight widening of her eyes when he said the name, "August."
Portland
August watched the scruffy, slightly unkempt man before him, leaning confidently against his parked bike, arms crossed leisurely. "When you see what I have in here, you're going to listen." He stated, a small smile on his lips as the man who had the potential to destroy Emma's future watched him in barely concealed distrust. "You're going to believe every word I say."
Neal scoffed. "Yeah, right." He barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes, and tensed in preparation to run at a moment's notice.
With a half-smile, August turned slightly to open the box he carried on the back of his motorcycle, revealing an old-fashioned typewriter, loaded with a single piece of paper. Neal's eyes carefully looked over the object before they settled on the single sentenced type on the paper. His eyes widened and his limbs began to shake as he registered what it was the words said.
'I know you're Baelfire.'
New York
It took several tries for Emma to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat. Finally, she felt comfortable enough to rasp out, "You left me… and let me go to prison, because Pinocchio told you to?" She demanded, hurt and incredulous, and shamed that he could still bring out the former in her with ease.
His voice was soft. "Emma… "
"I loved you." She lashed out. The words were pointed and sharp, designed to hurt, to make him feel like she did.
It worked. Neal blinked, unable to meet her gaze. "I… I was, um… I was… I was trying to help you."
"By letting me go to jail?"
"By getting you home."
Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you telling me, that us meeting was a coincidence?" She demanded, unable to grasp that Neal had really had no idea as to who she was. "Because how the hell did that happen? If it wasn't in your plan, or your father's?"
"Think about it. He wanted you to break the curse. Us meeting – that could have stopped it." He reminded her, wanting her to understand that he hadn't played her, had had no idea who she was when they met. "Maybe it was fate."
She sent him a scornful look. "You believe in that?"
"You know, there's not a ton about my father that I remember that doesn't suck," he said, ignoring the bewildered look she sent him at the abrupt change in subject. "But he used to tell me that there are no coincidences. Everything that happens, happens by design, and there's nothing we can do about it. Forces greater than us conspire to make it happen. Fate, destiny, whatever you want to call it. The point is… maybe we met for a reason," he tried, undeterred when the faint smile he sent her was met with disdain. "Maybe something good came from us being together."
Henry's smiling face flashed through her mind in an instant. "No," she whispered instead, ignoring the voice that screamed liar. "Not that I can think of. I just went to jail, that's it." Anger clouded her features, chasing away the pain she'd let slip. "Doesn't matter now. I'm over it. And you."
As she stood, his eyes were drawn to the collection of necklaces that peeked out from beneath the collar of her coat, to the silver key chain that he'd swiped from a convenience store over a decade ago.
"Why do you wear the, uh, key chain I got you?" He asked lightly, only half-prepared for the storm of emotions to flash across her once expressive eyes before they became carefully shuttered.
Without a word, she swept her hair to the side and unclasped the silver chain. With a carefulness that was clearly forced, she placed the necklace on the counter in front of him. "To remind myself never to trust someone again." She swore emphatically, meeting his eyes fearlessly. "Come on, I made a deal with your father." Neal's eyes widened in renewed horror. "That I'd bring you to him."
"You made a deal with him?" He rasped after he'd regained control of his voice.
"Yeah, and I'm upholding my end."
He stood so rapidly the bar stool scraped loudly against the floor. "No, Emma, you don't have to do that," he said, panic beginning to overtake him at the thought of being reunited with him. "You know that."
Her expression didn't change. "I know."
Inwardly flinching at her coldness, he forced himself to smile past the dread. "Okay, so this should be really easy for you. Tell him that you lost me, tell him you can't find me." He glanced up to meet her eyes once again. "You do that, you'll never have to see me again."
Enchanted Forest
The streets were deserted, the taverns and stores vacant, with not even a single merchant or patron to be found. Unaccustomed to such stillness in the air, so used to associating her home with dancing and singing, sunlight and warmth and… and people. When Jacquimo had claimed the city to be in mourning, the implications had been so horrible that she hadn't allowed herself to even consider what it would mean for her people, too used to focusing on how relieved she was to be away from that foul creature.
"You were gone for months," Jacquimo reminded her gently, curling his arm protectively around her trembling shoulders. Beneath the heavy velvet of her torn 'wedding gown', her shoulders were like sharp points, stretched beneath paper-thin skin. He wanted to ask her everything - had they starved her? Beaten her? Had- the last one was too horrible to contemplate, and made it easier to curb his inquisitive tongue. "The Queen, your mother… she declared that the whole kingdom be in a state of mourning just a sennight ago."
Visibly struggling, Katerina swallowed with difficulty and tightened her grip on his arm. The castle loomed before them as they traveled deeper into the kingdom, each step against the cobblestones echoing loudly in her ears. As they approached the bridge that connected town to castle, several of the guards, their usual red and gold uniforms a more somber black and silver.
They straightened at their approach, the closest one's jaw going slack as Katerina brushed her dark, matted curls away from her face. "M-my lady princess! Is it you?" He rushed forward as she stumbled, knees suddenly weak with relief.
She'd feared, more than she would ever say, that the loss of her true hair color would work against her, and was relieved to find that, though both the guards looked askance at the dark curls, they recognized her almost at once.
"We thought you dead, my lady," one whispered, clearly awed by her reappearance. His attention was drawn to Jacquimo when the boy shifted, eyes widening further. "Lord Jacquimo! Your father has been most worried for your safety, since you disappeared- "
"Yes, I am sure he has," Jacquimo admitted faintly, pointedly drawing his eyes toward Katerina. "But, I believe, the princess' welfare is a more pressing concern than my own."
Both the guards began to nod, one reaching to fold Katerina underneath their arm. "Yes, milord- " She jerked away from the touch of a stranger, though she could recognize the voice beneath the half-helm. Both guards watched in muted despair as their princess - their bright, spirited princess - cowered beneath the arm of her childhood playmate.
"Come," the elder whispered once he'd swallowed past the lump in his throat, gesturing toward the castle gates on the far side of the bridge. "We should bring her highness to her majesty at once."
Storybrooke
When she'd finally received a call from her daughter, after the emotional roller-coaster the last twenty-four hours had been, Mary Margaret hoped for a simple, mother-daughter conversation about Emma's trip. What she got, however, was another link in their increasingly (and annoyingly, if she was honest) disordered family tree.
"Wait," the dark-haired woman said, forcibly halting her daughter's low, almost frantic rambling. "Gold's son is Henry's father?"
Able to correctly read her mother's tone, Emma sighed deeply into the phone. "I know, I know," she muttered, shifting her cell uncomfortably. She'd left Neal at the bar, trusting him to keep his end of the bargain as long as she did. "And the millions of questions you have, I have too. The problem is, it doesn't matter right now because I don't know what to do."
The line was silent for several heartbeats, with her mother's soft breaths the only reassurance that she hadn't hung up. When Mary Margaret found her voice, there was so much hesitant hurt mixed in with the flat, stern voice her mother used. "Please tell me you're not calling to ask me to tell you to keep it from him."
"Henry thinks his father is dead," Emma reminded her, having confided in the other woman that little white-lie back when they were merely roommates and best friends. not mother and daughter. "I told him that for a reason. I want to protect him." Even to her own ears, Emma knew it sounded more liek she was trying to convince herself of that fact.
"No matter what this man did, Henry has a right to know who his father is." Mary Margaret told her sternly, pinching the bridge of her nose with a faint sight. "The truth about your parents… Emma, you of all people should know how important that is."
Emma fought down the urge to bristle. "I don't want Henry to get hurt; I just want to protect him." she repeated faintly, knowing Mary Margaret was right, but unprepared for the final remark her mother offered.
"Are you sure this is about protecting Henry, and not yourself?"
New York
Lillian jiggled her booted foot, feeling as if she was about to come out of her own skin. Emma had been gone for a while, too long for her to still be chasing Bae. Glancing down at her phone, and scowling when she saw no missed calls from Regina, she returned her attention to Gold, who looked worse off than she felt. Without her empathy, she was stuck watching facial cues and body language, something she thankfully excelled in.
Henry, however, was not to gifted. He stared at Gold, watching the antsy man pace the small hallway before the gated entrance to the apartments. "Why are you so nervous?" He asked suddenly, unable to take the silently growing tension any longer. "When I found my mom, I was excited."
Gold paused, and couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips at Henry's refreshing innocence. "Because I have the benefit of a little more… life experience," he told the boy kindly, ignoring Lillian's amused snort. "I know that things don't always happen the way we want them to."
"Sure, but in my book, it says that you can see the future." Henry reminded him, his curious nature a wrenching reminder of how Bae had been right before he'd lost him. "Why can't you just look and see what's going to happen?"
At that, Gold dared a glance at Lillian. She glanced up from her chipped nails to meet his eyes, and there was no condemnation in them as he'd come to expect for the last few weeks. There was only a deep pain that echoed his own, but she said nothing, merely lowering her eyes back to pick at the already chipped polish on her nails.
"Well, that ability is complicated," Gold muttered, returning his attention back to Henry, who had watched the silent exchange curiously. "I didn't always have it. And then when I did… well… it's maybe not the gift one would expect." He explained as Henry listened intently, as curious as ever about the magical abilities those around him had. "Seeing the inevitable can be a terrible price."
"But you wouldn't have to worry about stuff," Henry pointed out. "You'd just know."
Gold nodded, conceding the point to Henry. "But that's the great trap," he said with a wry smile. "The future is like a puzzle… with missing pieces," though the boy still looked puzzled, Gold could tell his metaphor had worked wonders. "Difficult to read. And never, never what you think."
Heartbeats later, Emma came into the room, breathless and white-faced. Lillian jackknifed to her feet, and was at the blonde's side in less than a second, with Gold eagerly at her heels. "Hey."
"Did you find him?" Gold demanded at once.
Forcing herself to look appropriately sorry, Emma shook her head. "Sorry," she whispered, inwardly cringing when she saw the dismayed expression both Lillian and Gold wore at her words. "Your son… got away."
Storybrooke
After visiting Gold's amnesia-stricken lover in the hospital, Regina returned to her mother and Hook, leading them to the only place that the slip of paper she'd found would make sense. As Regina scanned the shelves for the correct number, Hook paced like a caged animal.
"Shouldn't we be pillaging his shop or ransacking his home?" He demanded crossly.
Seeing that her daughter was otherwise preoccupied, Cora took it upon herself to validate their choice of location. "That would be the obvious choice, yes. But Gold wouldn't risk crossing the town line and losing his memory without entrusting the dagger's location to someone."
Hook's handsome features twisted into a grimace. "Belle."
Regina nodded from where she searched through the shelves. "My guess, is she hid it in one of her beloved books."
"Impressive, Regina," Cora smiled widely at her daughter, truly pleased by her cleverness.
Regina returned the expression. "Thank you, mother."
Though the moment was touching, Hook refused to let it stop his quest for revenge. "I'll be impressed when I'm holding the dagger in my hand."
Ignoring his snide attempts to belittle her, Regina continued to look for the book number. As she came upon the correct spot, her eyes widened when she realized that, while the books numbered before and after the one she was looking for, they were gone.
"No," she breathed out, drawing the attention of her companions. "It should be here."
"Well, it's not, is it?" Hook drawled, immensely pleased at being proved correct. Her turned halfway toward the door, a mocking attempt at a sympathetic smile on his features. "May we go now?"
Peering into the empty space, Cora's eyes narrowed. "Hold on." Reaching into the space, her fingers closed around a folded piece of paper. Drawing it out, she unfolded it, glaring down at the simple scribbles on the paper. "What's this?"
"Oh, yes," Hook muttered, swaggering to peer at the paper from over Cora's shoulder. "Crude." He observed, smiling lightly when mother and daughter cast a dubious look his way. "To the untrained eye, a child's scribbles, but to a pirate… it's a map. Gold may not have hidden the dagger here, but I believe he's left us the next best thing – its location."
"Can you read it?" Cora asked, faint excitement evident.
Hook spared her a sinful smile. "Well, lucky for you ladies, I'm quite adept at finding buried treasure."
Phone still in hand, Mary Margaret watched her husband puzzled out everything she had told him meant for their family. He made a face, one that looked like he was in pain, as he raised his blue eyes to meet her own.
"So, Rumpelstiltskin is Henry's grandfather?" He asked, blinking so slowly at her she was half-afraid he'd gone into shock. Personally, she felt the same as she tried to figure out the already extremely complicated situation they lived in, only made worse by the addition of yet another family member.
Steeling herself, she nodded. "Apparently."
"But I'm his grandfather." It was already hard enough to wrap around his head that his daughter was several years older than him, and that he was a grandfather already. Now he had to contend with another grandparent.
She stifled her laughter at his adorable pout. "You can have more than one."
He merely blinked owlishly at her once more. "So his…step-grandmother is Regina, the Evil Queen." He asked, trying to clarify Henry's familial relations.
"Actually, his step-great-grandmother." She felt her eye twitch, and could feel the headache coming on. "And she's also his adoptive mother."
David leaned back in his chair, releasing a low, impressed whistle. "It's a good thing we don't have Thanksgiving in our land," he began with a small, amused smirk. "'Cause that dinner would suck."
Though she saw his point, Mary Margaret stubbornly clung to a much more optimistic perspective, despite David's raised brow. "Or, maybe this will mellow everyone out."
New York
Spinning around on his meticulously shined shoes, so quickly Lillian half-started forward when he stumbled from his limp, Gold started toward the intercom. Before Emma, whose eyes widened at his actions, could stop him, he began to furiously punch the buttons on the intercom without a ferocity that shocked even Lillian.
"Gold, wait! What are you doing?" The blonde demanded, wondering if she would have to drag the suddenly deranged man from the property.
"I'm finding my son," Gold announced grimly as another one of the tenants finally buzzed him in. Uncaring if the cops were called, he limped through the open door and started for the stairs.
Emma was at his heels, only half-aware of Lillian and Henry bringing up the rear. "He's gone."
"But he lives here," Gold snarled in reply, counting the numbers on the doors as the passed. "He'll be back, and I'll be waiting."
Lillian quickly stepped around Emma, Henry's hand firmly grasped in her own. Sputtering, the blonde watched, in growing horror, as the teen smoothly produced a lock pick and wrench that she handed off to Gold from the inner pockets of her wool coat.
"Stop!" Emma demanded in a hushed whisper as Gold bent to begin picking the lock. "You can't just break in!"
"Sadly," Lillian observed with a wry smile. "It's something we're actually quite good at, if you must know." She flashed Emma, who shifted uncomfortably, a narrowed eyed sneer.
"He might not come back," Emma lamented lamely, hoping she could sway them away from their present course of action.
Gold merely shrugged at her words, never taking his eyes off of the lock before him. "Okay. Finding people is what you do, Miss Swan, I'm simply going to assist you." He listened intently as the tumblers clicked beneath his ministrations. "There may be information in here. Who he is, what he does, who he loves."
Still reeling from her earlier conversation with Neal, Emma refused to even consider allowing Gold to find anything out about his wayward son. "No, don't do this. There are things called laws."
Wanting to feel involved, Henry piped up between them, "I'll be lookout."
Emma's neck snapped toward him in an instant. "No, I… you could get arrested," she protested weakly, looking between the two in disbelief. For a moment, they wore matching expressions of determination, and she shivered at the implication. Beside her, Lillian glanced at her, eyebrow arched in silent question.
"Then," Gold answered grimly as he listened for the tumbler clicks, breaking off the odd stare-down between his assistant and Emma. "My son will have to testify against me, and we will be reunited." As he spoke, the lock clicked beneath his touch and with a flick of his wrist on the knob, the door creaked open for them.
Enchanted Forest
Despite her advancing age, Queen Tabitha of Corona's hair was still as golden as it had been in her youth. Coiled at the nape of her neck, with the diamond studded crown on her head, she sat on her throne, poised and graceful as a queen from the stories. Said grace nearly deserted her when, with little fanfare, the doors to the throne room were throne open, startling the few amount of courtiers that were in the hall. Several guards, all of them smiling ear to ear, escorted a pair of dark-haired youths into the room, but Tabitha only had eyes for the girl tucked beneath the boy's arm.
Uncaring of the dirt and grime that coated the girl's fair skin and torn, ratty dress, or of the no longer golden curls that spilled across her shaking shoulders, Tabitha swept from her throne and gathered her daughter in her arms. Katerina pressed her dirty face into her mother's white neck, feeling the bite of the jeweled collar she wore.
"Oh, my darling," Tabitha soothed, brushing a hand along her daughter's curls. She didn't say a word about the darkened shade of her hair, or of the bruises that seemed to riddle almost every inch of exposed, too pale skin. All she did was cradle her daughter tightly to her, riding out the muffled sobs that escaped her daughter's lips. "Shh, shh, you're safe. I promise, you're safe." Her eyes shifted to Jacquimo and she extended a slim hand. "Thank you for bringing my daughter home, Lord Jacquimo."
Obediently, the young man bent at the waist, kissing the cool hand chastely. Drawing her hand back, Tabitha shifted to the awaiting court, Katerina tucked beneath one arm, she didn't notice how her daughter had gone stiff at her words. "My lords and ladies, out princess has been returned to us!"
As the people began to rejoice, and as Tabitha began to lead her daughter toward the dais, Katerina twisted to meet Jacquimo's eyes. He wore a small, sad smile, and though his eyes were soft, they were also knowing. Shivering at the silent reminder of what she'd done, what she'd sacrificed to return home, she forcibly turned her attention back to the front and plastered a smile on her trembling lips.
Her mother's demeanor indicated she'd enjoy a brief respite before she was questioned intensely about her whereabouts, but for now, all she had to do was convince herself that she was home. That she was safe.
The words, no matter how much she repeated them, sounded hollow and empty.
New York
Despite his mother's repeated attempts, which he found halfhearted at best, to stop them, Gold and Lillian had broken into Baelfire's apartment within minutes. Inside, the apartment was unremarkable, so average that Henry slumped in disappointment at the sight. Lillian drifted from his side, her hands hovering over the random possessions that littered the small rooms surfaces, noticeably trembling.
"Gold," Emma hissed crossly, able to feel the already fragile on her hold slipping by the minute. "Lillian. Come on, please. We really shouldn't be here," she begged as Gold and his adopted daughter wandered the room.
"I don't think they're listening." Henry pointed out when neither his sister or Gold made to acknowledge Emma's words. Moving to join Lillian, unaware of his mother's eyes all but bulging from her head at his actions, Henry stuck to her side as they studied the apartment.
Shoulders slumping, Emma resigned herself to glancing around the room. As she loitered in the doorway, eyes scanning the room, she was drawn to the sight of a dream catching hanging in front of a smudged window. Crossing the room and taking the memento in hand, as if in a trance, Emma was startled from the memories the dream catcher stirred up when Gold's voice came from her shoulder.
"You find something, dearie?"
"Nothing," Emma said, reading the tightness of his voice. "Uh, it just looks like a dream catcher."
"Yeah, well, if it's nothing, why are you still holding it?" Gold asked, voice rising and catching Lillian's attention. "You're lying to me."
"Just get back ot looking, okay?" Emma placed the dream catcher down on a nearby surface, hoping that would be the end of it.
"No, no, no, you saw something." Gold accused quietly, eyes wild and dangerous. "Tell me."
"You don't know what you're talk- "
"Tell me!" Gold erupted, all of the emotions he'd kept tightly under wraps finally spilling over.
"Henry," Lillian said in an undertone, "let's go and wait in another room."
"But, we can help- "
"Henry." She snapped, eyes never leaving the two snarling adults, all too prepared for the fireworks. While stripped of her empathy, Lillian knew when a person was lying, and so did Gold. As Lillian shuffled the pouting boy away, though he relaxed once they'd left sight of his mother and Gold, Emma rounded on Gold.
"There's nothing here," she told him, hoping that Neal would be smart enough to stay gone and lay low for a while. "The guy's a ghost."
"Well, you think me a fool?" Gold returned, tiring of her surly attitude. "You're holding back. I want to know what, and why."
"I'm not holding back."
"Did he tell you something?"
"Gold- "
"Did he tell you something?!"
"Nothing!" Emma cried in reply, finally returning his hostile attitude with one of her own. "He didn't say anything."
"But you talked to- "
"Don't put words in my mouth- "
"Tell me!" He all but screamed. "You tell me, or I'm going to make you tell me."
Emma felt her lips pull back in a feral sort of sneer. "You don't have magic here." She reminded him, gratified when he flinched.
He fingered the top of his cane, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Oh, I don't need magic."
"You really want to do this?" She challenged, refusing to back down.
"Do not push me." He warned.
"Don't push me," she echoed just as angrily.
"We had a deal! A deal!" He advanced, though she stood her ground. "No one! No one breaks deals with me!"
"Hey!" Their eyes cut to the door as it was flung open, revealing a slightly out of breath Neal, who quickly moved to block Emma from Gold's view. "Leave her alone."
Enchanted Forest
It was harder than she ever thought it would be to tell the story of her capture and imprisonment. Her mother and father listened, the latter more gaunt and sickly than she remembered. She faltered several times, fear and self-loathing threatening to choke her but, thankfully, neither of her parents interrupted or tried to comfort her. When she had finished, her mother sat pensively, while her father look moments away from having the nearby forests that teamed with magical beings, razed to the ground.
"It was his dark magic that stripped you of our birthright, was it not?" Tabitha asked quietly, fingers clenched into fists on her lap, creasing the silk of her gown.
Katerina knew better than to be offended by her mother's choice of words. Though not the most affectionate mother, Tabitha did love her only child, and had her own unique way of dealing with stress. Katerina could see for herself the strain of the past few months etched onto her mother's tan skin. "I can still use our family's magic, mother," she forced out when sure the words wouldn't choke her. "But my hair no longer glows and… I believe the change to be permanent."
Tabitha nodded distractedly, faintly green herself. Beside her, Colbert reached forward carefully to grasp his daughter's hands, all too aware of what would happen if he did not. He had been quickly disabused of the idea that he had any right to hold or touch his daughter when it suited him, that he could embrace her as she cried, or hold her hand or kiss her cheek.
Her cry of fear had been more horrifying than he'd ever imagined.
"Did he… did that monster touch you?" He found himself asking, half-afraid of the answer he'd receive.
Katerina visibly recoiled, as if struck, but met their suddenly attentive stares firmly. "No. He was saving that for… for our wedding night." She spat, hands curled into claws on her lap. Distressed to feel even more tears pricking the back of her eyes - would there ever be a time when they did not? - she rapidly changed the subject. "What of Jacquimo?" She asked quietly. "He risked his life to save me - he was cursed, and yet he still saved me."
She did not mention the curse that had been placed on her, a last gift from her 'prince' to go with the bruises and scars her already given her. Beneath the folds of her sleeve, the black veins itched fiercely, and she nearly tore a hole in the velvet of her skirts.
"He will be rewarded, my love," Tabitha promised quietly. "We will honor him, and him alone." Though the son of a noble, Jacquimo was a second son, the youngest of the Duke of Eastwyck, and therefore would normally have been forced to find his own way in the world.
Katerina forced herself to nod, to smile in their direction. "Thank you," she dipped her head, breathing a faint, relieved breath when they both stood to leave her rooms. Colbert paused, cautiously extending his hand, palm upwards, silently beseeching her to take it. Sternly reminding herself that he was not Cornelius, that he was her papa and would never hurt her, she carefully placed her hand in his.
As Colbert drew Katerina into his arms, gently, slowly, Tabitha paused in the doorway to watch as her daughter broke down once more, this time clinging to her father instead of frantically pushing him away. Pressing a kiss to her hair, Colbert turned his head at the soft whisper of silk, mildly surprised when his wife joined the embrace, the three of them slumping to their knees on the ground.
New York
Despite the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, the grey speckled in his hair, Gold felt his knees grow weak at the sight of his son, healthy and whole. "Bae… you came back for me."
Neal shook his head stubbornly. "No," he muttered, refraining from meeting his desperate father's eyes. "I came to make sure you didn't hurt her. I've seen what you do to people who break deals."
"Please, Bae, just let me talk."
"I have no interest in talking to you," Neal said, flinging an arm in the direction of the door. "You can go."
Gold shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere." He protested, as Emma watched, eyes wide as the altercation quickly escalated.
"Get out of my apartment!"
"Neal… "
His hard eyes never left his father. "Emma, I got this."
Looking between the two, Gold's wide eyes rapidly became slits, a dark, gnawing suspicion taking hold as the two traded a loaded look. "You two know each other… you two know each other. How?"
Emma neatly dodged his real question. "You sent me chasing after him."
Gold held up a hand, ire rising to dangerous levels. "No, no, no, stop it!" He demanded. "You're lying. How do you two know each other?!"
Lillian rounded the corner at that moment, catching the attention of every adult in the room. "Will you all stop yelling!" She snapped furiously. "If you don't, I won't be able to… keep… " her eyes landed on Neal, and her skin whitened so quickly that Emma feared she'd faint. Her eyes flared wide with first surprise, then disbelief, and finally dawning horror. "Bae?" She whispered, a shaking hand rising to cover her parted lips. "Is that… are you… "
Though he was older, and grey was beginning to form in his hair, and there were wrinkles and laugh lines on his face, she already knew the answer: Bae had escaped.
Neal took a half-step forward with a small, breathless smile. "Lily? Is that you… oh, my god." He breathed, heart skipping a beat at the sight of her, all thoughts of Emma and his father forgotten. Unlike him, she hadn't changed a bit, though her eyes were far sadder than he'd ever seen. "It-it's me. " His arms opened automatically when she moved. Cradling her to his chest, Neal shuddered when Lillian gripped the edges of his coat in her fists, her shoulders shaking violently. "Shh," he muttered, hoping to calm her after he'd caught the expressions on his father and Emma's faces. "Shh, Lily,"
She pulled back enough, eyes overly bright and flooded with tears. "I-I left you, but I didn't want to I- " she hiccuped, looking him in the face. "I broke my promise, and I'm so sorry, Bae. I- " She struggled vainly with the tears and lost; they scorched a hot path down her cheeks.
"Hey, hey," he caught her face between his hands, thumbs brushing the tears away as he smiled down at her. One of her own came up to grip his wrist tightly. "It's okay, Lily," he drew her back into the hug, holding onto one another so tightly their arms trembled. "I'm okay."
"Lillian… " Henry peeked into the room, eyes widening at the sight before him. "W-what's going on? Mom?"
Emma went stiff, all the questions she wanted to demanded of Lillian and Neal, flying out the window. "Hey… " she greeted weakly.
Still in Neal's arms, Lillian turned, scrubbing roughly at her eyes. Henry's little face titled worriedly to the side at the sight, and it made Lillian's heart warm. Above her, Neal smiled faintly at the sight of the boy. "Who's this?"
Emma was amazed she was able to force herself to speak at all. "My son." She answered shortly, going to herd him out of the room.
"What?"
Henry peered curiously at the man beside his 'sister'. "Is that Baelfire?" He asked innocently, unaware of the source of the sudden tension between the adults. He took another look at Lillian's face, brow furrowing at the horrified expression she wore as she began to shake her head in denial. "Lillian, what's wrong- "
Emma moved in front of him, blocking him from Neal's gaze. "I need you to stay in the other room for a little while longer, okay?" She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and steered him away. "Come on."
"Wait," Neal forced out hoarsely, gently releasing Lillian, who began to tremble for an entirely different reason. "H-how old are you?" He asked Henry, unable to keep the desperation from his voice.
"Don't answer him." Emma ordered her son when he made to open his mouth.
Neal's voice echoed loudly through the apartment. "How old are you, kid?!"
Henry spun around, dislodging Emma's hold on his shoulders. "Eleven!" He shouted in reply, looking between the faces of mother and sister, Gold and his son. "Now, why is everyone yelling?"
"He's eleven?" Neal whispered, knees threatening to give out.
"Oh, my god," Lillian whispered, her entire body growing cold as realization smacked her in the face. "Oh, god, no."
Henry, puzzled by their reactions, and by the strain on his mother's face, looked up at the blonde. "Mom?"
"Is this my son?"
Henry visibly flinched at the words. "No," he began faintly, suddenly feeling light-headed when he jerked his head away from Mr. Gold's son to look up at his mother. "My dad was a fireman. He… he died." He waited for Emma to agree, to smile and nod and tell him that was the truth. "That's what you told me. You said… "
Rubbing his palms over his face, Neal pinned Emma with a black stare. "Is this… my son?"
Emma looked between them, unable to face the betrayal in her son's eyes. Neal's, she could deal with, she could ignore it and bury it the way she did everything else. But Henry… slowly, she focused only on him and began to nod her head, eyes slipping shut. "Yes… "
There was a sudden moment of silence, and it was hard to breath, as if Emma's words had sucked all the oxygen from the room. Paralyzed, Lillian could only watch as Henry, backing away from Emma as he shook his head side to side, face a mask of muted pain, darted toward the window. He yanked it open and clambered onto the fire escape, unable to stay there any longer.
"Henry." Emma whispered, feeling as if she had just come up for air after being submerged in icy water. Following him toward the window, she paused, torn between going after him, or giving him the space he obviously wanted.
Lillian quickly took the option from her.
"Henry!" The teen all but leapt across the room, crossing it in a matter of seconds before she followed Henry onto the fire escape. Though she cared for Bae, and knew he was dealing with a terrible shock of his own, Henry needed her more. Bae isn't a child anymore, he doesn't need me. The thought send a spasm of pain through her heart, but she forcibly pushed it down. "Oh, Henry," she whispered once she caught sight of his face, screwed up in pained disbelief.
Emma watched her son willingly go into Lillian's outstretched arms, clinging to her like he would a mother, and something inside her snapped. Without a word to the father-son duo beside her, the blonde woman followed her son through the window. Neal, suddenly fed-up with all of the lies that followed him wherever he went, made to follow behind his ex and their son, when his father's hand snapped out to hold his shoulder.
"Baelfire… " Neal impatiently shrugged out of the hold with a grimace. "Please, please," Gold whispered, struggling to meet his son's eyes, though they never moved from the trio out on the fire escape. He was faintly aware that their positions were now reversed. Neal roughly shrugged his shoulder from his father's touch once more. "All I want is a chance to be heard."
"Get out."
Stricken by his son's tone, Gold switched tactics. "Look, you came back to protect Emma," he acknowledged, though the truth pained him. "To show that she had lived up to her end of her bargain with me."
"And now she has." Neal reminded him, with little inflection in his voice. "You can go."
Steeling his spine, as he hadn't come all this way to simply give up, Gold forced himself to frown at his son. "No. Out deal was for her to get you to talk to me," he informed a scowling Neal. "If you truly want her deal to be fulfilled, you have but one choice: you have to talk to me."
Neal was silent for so long that Gold feared his request had been ignored altogether, before he shifted ever so slightly in his father's direction. "You got three minutes," he said flatly, eyes fixed on the girl he'd seen as his sister, and his newfound son.
Storybrooke
"I give you the location of the dagger," Hook announced cheerfully, once he'd finished deciphering the the clues left on the paper they'd found hidden in one of Belle's books.
Cora smiled widely at him. "Well done, Hook," she praised, reaching down to snatch the map from his slackened grip. "We'll take it from here."
Without a word, she turned on her heel, Regina following suit, and they strode toward the door. Behind them, Hook bristled at the obvious dismissal, his rage quickly getting the better of him.
"No." He snarled, teeth bared. "You promised me!" He made to charge them, though barely took a step before Cora reacted.
With a wave of her hand, Hook was flung into a bookshelf with a blast of magic, falling limply to the floor. "The kris dagger's much too powerful to be wasted on you," Cora sneered down at his unconscious form.
"So… is… this what it was all about?" Regina couldn't stop the hurt, though she shouldn't be surprised, at being played by her mother once again. "Getting Rumple's dagger so you could obtain his dark powers?"
Cora rushed to reassure her. "If we possess the dagger, we control the Dark One. And when he returns to Storybrooke, we can command him to kill Snow White, Prince Charming, Lilith, and Emma." She told her, matter-of-fact, unwilling to mince her words at this crucial moment. "Our enemies will be vanquished, and you, will be blameless in the eyes of the only person who matters."
"Henry."
New York
"So, that's him." Henry muttered, eyes trained on his hands, knees pressed tightly to his chest. Lillian sat beside him on the fire escape, her expression tight and mutinous as she gazed down at Emma.
"Yeah."
"Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded suddenly, eyes flashing with an anger Emma had only seen him direct at Regina.
"Because I never thought I would see him again," the blonde revealed, quickly deciding to tell her son the truth, no matter how much it hurt. "I never wanted to."
"Why not?"
Emma inwardly recoiled at the silent rebuke in Lillian's cold, hard voice. "He was a thief, Henry," she answered, choosing not to involve Lillian more than she had to. "A liar, a bad guy, and he… he broke my heart."
"I could have taken it, you know," Henry insisted, his anger growing with every word his mother uttered. "The truth."
Emma nodded, biting her lip. "I know. He was just a part of my life I wanted to forget," she told him. "That's why I didn't tell you. I was thinking of me, not you."
Finally raising his eyes from furiously glaring holes into his hands, he pinned Emma with a furious stare. "I thought you were different, but you're just like her. Regina. She always lied to me, too." Lillian's arm tightened around him, attempting to offer him any comfort she could provide.
Stricken by her son's words, Emma struggled to breathe. "I'm sorry… "
"I want to meet my dad."
Inside the apartment, Neal stared down his own father, eyes darting toward the trio outside the window every so often. "Clock's ticking," he said.
"I know I've made mistakes, but you must believe me." Gold whispered, well aware that his son would, and most likely was, actively counting down the seconds until he could join his ex-lover and son on the fire escape. "I want to make up for it. There's no greater pain than regret."
"Try abandonment."
Gold startled from the pointed barb, feeling the pain in his heart grow. "Please, let me make it up to you."
"How are you going to do that?" Neal demanded, refusing to give in to the pounding, bitter anger that swirled in his veins. "I grew up alone. I grew up without a father. You can make up for that?"
Gold eagerly seized onto the idea. "Yeah. Yes, I can."
"Two minutes."
"Come with me to Storybrooke. There's magic there. I can turn the clock back - make you fourteen again," Neal couldn't stop the incredulous smile that twisted his lips. "We can start over."
"Fourteen?" Neal repeated, as if he barely believed what he was hearing. "I don't want to be fourteen, again. Are you… are you insane?"
"I can't make up for the lost time, but I can take away the memories." Gold told him, the idea seeming more and more agreeable to him by the second. "Bae… "
"Take away who I am? No, thanks." Neal shot down coldly, glancing down at his watch pointedly. "One minute."
Wounded by his son's flat-out rejection, Gold made to move forward. "Bae… please… give me a chance. You once loved me."
"You were once a good man." Neal retorted.
"And I can be that man again," Gold said, rashly promising something he knew might have been a lie. "I've changed." When Neal merely rolled his eyes, Gold rapidly switched topics, gesturing to his bad leg. "Look, I came here, to this city, without magic."
"Yeah, yeah, and you're still trying to use it to make up for your mistakes. Still think that that can make it all better, but it won't." Neal said coldly, refusing to mince his words or allow his father to even believe there was a chance to change his mind. "You can't. You have no idea what I've lived with, what Lily and I went through, because of you. You're so worried about you. You know what I've dealt with?" Neal demanded, continuing without giving his father a chance to respond. "Every night, for more years than you could know, the last thing I see before sleep, is the image of you… you and me, over that pit." Gold flinched visibly from his son's words, raising a hand as if to ward them off. "Your hand… wrapped around mine. And then, you open your grip. And as I fall away, all I can see is your face. Choosing all…this…crap over me. Letting me go. Now, it's my turn. Now I'm letting you go."
"I'm sorry- " Gold began, but his son cut across him.
"I don't care. I didn't get closure, so you don't, either." His eyes went back to the fire escape where Henry had curled into Lillian's arms. "Got to go."
"Oh, Bae… "
Neal stepped away from Gold's attempts to comfort him. "No." He stated with a cold finality. "Time's up."
Turning on his heel, he stalked toward the window, leaving his father to stare brokenly after him.
Enchanted Forest
She was happier than she ever thought possible when they announced her firstborn was a boy. The deal she'd made with Pan haunted her every moment of her pregnancy, and it was harder than ever to hide her growing terror from Beau. She had glossed over the situation with Pan, refusing to divulge the details of their arrangement, and when she burst into relieved tears as they handed Darren to her, it had nearly frightened poor Beau half to death.
Now, as she approached her due date for her second pregnancy, the strain had already forced the midwives to confine her to her bed before the first trimester was over. Jacquimo, on his rare visits, had made it a point to visit her so she could confide her fears to the only other person who knew everything. Now, just days away from the birth, she found tears pricking her eyes when Jacquimo laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"You must tell him," he urged gently, knowing that the secret was too large, and too important, to not include the father of the daughter Katerina might bring into the world.
"It might be a boy - Darren was and- "
"You have lived your whole life with magic, Kat," he announced, and though his voice was soft, his eyes were grave. "You know as well as I, that it finds a way. Even if this baby is not a girl, the next one will be, or the next one, until you fulfill the bargain."
Katerina folded her hands over her rounded stomach, to hide how they shook. Beneath her touch, the child within her stirred and kicked, the sensations as reassuring as they were terrifying. "I know," she retorted, more sharply than she meant. "I know."
"Kat." Jacquimo waited until she'd turned her head to look at him again, eyes shining with pain. "You must tell him. Everything."
New York
Leaving Henry, who once more refused to look at her, cut to the core by her son's clear resentment, Emma crawled back into the apartment, nearly knocking over Neal.
"He wants to meet you," she announced without delay, knowing that she'd chicken out if she didn't do it right away.
"You weren't going to tell me about him."
Wanting to cower from the rancor in his voice, Emma nodded. "No, I wasn't."
He pinned her with a burning stare. "Yeah, well, he's my kid, too, so you don't get to make that decision by yourself anymore."
"Great," Emma spat out defensively before she got ahold of herself, realizing that she wasn't the wronged party anymore. "Go talk to him, then. But… " she gently caught his sleeve, halting him before he could go through the window. "Don't break his heart."
"Trust me – I'm not going do to him what he did to me." He jerked a thumb in the direction of his father.
"Or what you did to me."
"Okay, I get it. We're all messed up." Neal said tiredly, unable to take the cutting words anymore. "What do you say we try to avoid that with him? Alright?"
Relenting, Emma nodded and stepped out of the way. "Alright."
Pausing to give her an affirmative nod, Neal climbed out onto the fire escape and found himself face to face with his son. Henry, he noted, clung to Lillian the same way he once had, and Lillian met his gaze bravely, refusing to be budged no matter what anyone said.
"So… you're my dad." Henry announced, injecting forced cheerfulness in his words.
Neal found himself nodding. "Yeah."
"I'm Henry."
"It's nice to meet you, Henry," Neal returned with a wry smile. "Sorry I took so long."
Henry took pity on the poor man and smiled reassuringly. "It's okay," he told his newfound father. "You didn't know." He glanced up at Lillian, who released a quivering sigh of relief and made to stand, to leave them to it.
"No," Neal whispered, catching hold of Lillian's pale, slim fingers. The cold metal of a ring bit into his palm, but he ignored the sensation. "You should stay, Lily."
As she settled back beside Henry, and as all three fell into deep conversation, Gold wandered passed the window. He paused, staring at the three animated faces, silently comparing Henry's to Bae's, cursing his pride for never allowing him to see the resemblance.
Enchanted Forest
"A girl, your grace!" The midwife cheered, swaddling the small, crying babe in a silken swaddling blanket. "A healthy girl!"
Slumped against her pillows, hair and nightgown matted to her body with sweat, Katerina tiredly smiled. She knew, within hours of the announcement of the birth, that her mother would be informed that she, at last, had a possible heiress. As they handed her the squalling infant, the baby's cries halted the instant she was placed in her mother's arms. Pale blue eyes gazed up curiously, and Katerina cooed lightly down at her daughter, offering a finger for her to grasp in a tiny fist.
The door slammed open and Beauregard stumbled in, riding jacket still in place and hair in a disarray. "Oh, my love, am I too late?" He rushed to the bed, kneeling beside her to gaze down at the face of their daughter. "She has your eyes," he whispered, awed. "Has Darren been told?"
"I just sent a message to his governess, milord," a nearby maid said, bobbing a quick curtsy. As she and her fellows bustled about their duties, Beauregard returned to Katerina, who stared down at their slumbering daughter, tears slowly dripping down her flushed cheeks.
"Are you all right, my love," he whispered, stroking his new daughter's petal-soft cheek. When she choked on a sob, alarm raced through him. "What is it?"
"I-I have to tell you something… " She whispered, for his ears only. "A-about my time on Neverland… " She clutched their daughter closer, tightly to her chest, and Beau quietly hushed her.
"And I will listen. But first: what shall we call her?" They had not discussed names, boy or girl, as if afraid it would jinx their chances either way.
Glancing down at her daughter, a name, one she later would remember as one she'd never even given a second thought to, rang in her ears.
"Lily. We will call her Lily."
New York
The seer's last words ringing in his ears, their last meeting replaying over and over like a demented movie, Gold watched his son and newly discovered grandson as they bonded, a feeling of icy, cold dread overtaking him.
Comments? Thoughts? Questions?