It was 1992. He'd owned the shop now for so long he couldn't remember how long he'd been doing this same routine. Each morning he woke up, stretched, and got into the shower. He dressed in a suit, adding layer after layer to make any who felt the need to deal with him feel underdressed. That was a trick he'd learned as a lawyer. In the morning, he read the newspaper, cooked himself some breakfast, eggs usually, with spinach if he had it. He drove to town and parked his car in the lot or on the street. He didn't live far from work, but he wasn't about to walk there. With his leg, he'd never manage, and besides, walking might give the impression he cared about something. He walked down the street every morning. Sometimes people lifted their eyes to him in acknowledgment. He never returned the favor. He barely paid any attention to Marco on the ladder as he passed swiftly by him.

As he unlocked the door to his shop, he glanced at the abandoned library on the corner across from him. It always made him feel uneasy, probably because it was becoming an eyesore. One of these days, he would file a complaint with Regina about that, but today there was too much to do.

Inside the shop, he opened the blinds and took a deep breath of the musty smell that came with age. It still felt like home, probably more like home than his pink house, which he still needed to get painted. He turned the sign behind him to "open" in case someone felt like coming in to make a deal but then escaped to the back room just like always. It was his favorite place in his shop. The spinning wheel he'd first seen when he bought the place was back here, along with a fold-away cot for nights he got carried away and just decided to sleep there. There were two tables crowded into the back that he could use to polish or repair or clean or whatever he needed to do. On the table was a child's rocking chair he'd bought that needed just a bit of woodworking before he could put it up for sale. He had many talents, one had to be crafty in this business, but woodworking wasn't one he particularly enjoyed. Still, it would be cheaper to do it himself than wander outside to ask Marco if he would take a chance with it. Besides, it wasn't as though he was doing much today. He may as well fix the thing. It was his task for today.

It was just another day in-

The bell to the front door grabbed his attention before he could really settle in to his work. He was always happy to make money, but some days he much preferred to spend the day in the company of his possessions instead of at the beck and call of whoever wanted him. He was tempted to sit there and ignore the summons, but then he remembered the jewelry he'd cleaned and placed on display yesterday. The last thing he needed was to have a theft because he'd been in a mood. He hobbled out to the front of the shop to meet a man with sandy brown hair who looked about his store confused and perhaps a bit nervous. If he had to guess, he was probably there to buy an engagement ring. He looked to be about the right age. He certainly had that look of being out of breath, which could often be attributed to being nervous.

"Can I help you with something?" he inquired.

The man narrowed his eyes in his direction a look of contempt rose over his features. He looked familiar…why did he look familiar? "I almost didn't recognize you without the scales," the man breathed after a moment.

He felt a twitch in his neck at that comment. Scales…the man remembered him with scales? He had scales he used to weigh objects and precious gems but only in the back of the shop. Very few had ever seen the back of his shop. He'd remember if he'd ever invited him in the back, and he knew he hadn't. Who was he?

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, cut the act. There is no way you would let yourself fall under the power of Regina's curse when she's still awake."

He felt a chill run up his back as he thought through the words the man had said. About the only word that had made sense was "Regina," everything else sounded like gibberish. But gibberish the man was convinced of. He did appear confused. Perhaps he'd hit his head? Or was a patient of Dr. Hopper?

"You don't seem very well. If you're looking for Dr. Hopper, his office is just down the street," he suggested.

"All right. Enough games. I put my daughter through a wardrobe because you told me it would break the curse. Now, where is she?"

Then again, perhaps it was a little bit more than a bump on the head. The man was clearly in a fragile mental state and growing angrier by the second. And here he stood, not another soul around with his cane as his only defense. Where was Sheriff Graham when he needed him?

"I have no idea what you're talking about, and I don't appreciate your tone," he snapped, trying to deescalate the tension. His words had the opposite effect.

His heart raced as the man turned to an old umbrella stand and pulled from it a sword, one that he'd just sharpened not long ago.

"Intimidation won't make me remember something I don't know!" he insisted as the man took a step closer.

The man paused. His mouth was dry. He felt suddenly cold from the burst of adrenaline rushing through his body. A sword and a healthy twenty-something against a cane and a man with a limp. He could take a safe bet on who would win that fight. He needed to call the police and warn them about the man, but he couldn't do that if he died. And so he waited; waited, and watched patiently to see what he would do. Finally, he let out a sigh and squinted his eyes in the low light.

"I guess Snow was wrong," he muttered, turning to go. He didn't hesitate; the second the man turned, he did too, in the direction of his phone so that he could call-

"Looks like we're gonna have to find Emma on our own."

"Emma…"

It was like a dam had burst open. One second he'd been talking to a stranger in a dark and hazy shop; the next, he was listening to David's footsteps and the door in his pawnshop that led out to the Land Without Magic…Bae's home. Baelfire was his son, and Emma was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.

Emma…

"What a lovely name…"

His trigger word. It had worked.

"I put my daughter through a wardrobe because you told me it would break the curse. Now, where is she…" What was gibberish before made perfect sense now. He felt a smirk growing as the bell rang again, indicating that David had closed the door and was looking back at him.

"Perhaps I can help you."

"You are awake."

Awake. Awake finally from the curse that Regina had cast because it would bring him to this world, to Baelfire. The Dark Curse. His Curse, the Curse David's daughter, was bound to break when she returned to them.

"Just needed a proper wake-up call, one that I knew one day would come," he answered as David moved back toward him. He managed to close the distance a few steps, but he was uneasy on his feet, his entire body shaking, and this time it wasn't anything to do with a strange man and a sword threatening him with bodily harm. Instead, it had everything to do with Prince Charming holding his sword in his hand once more. His heart was pounding. With every passing second, it felt more and more like Belle was sweeping the cobwebs free from his mind. Things were growing clearer and brighter, and that included his path forward. Regina, Emma, the Curse, David, Baelfire…

Centuries of planning…all for this moment.

"Right. So where is she? Where's my daughter?" David demanded.

"I know that Emma is destined to break the Curse, but I don't know where she is and how she's meant to get back to us."

"Think harder."

He chuckled even though the Prince's tone made him want to shiver. David was the exact same person he'd been before. It was as though no time had passed at all. It was right, he knew that was how it should feel coming out of the Curse, but he hadn't been prepared for how terribly unnerving it would feel to be the same person he had been before magic again. His leg ached. When he had the full powers of the Dark One, he'd never noticed just how tall the boy was or how broad his shoulders were. He never considered just how terrifying he could be when he was worked up as he was. Being human was no more fun now, even with power, than it had been all those years ago. As much as he wanted to sit and consider what was happening around him, he was keenly aware that he needed to give David information if only to get him out of his shop.

His shop.

He was finally in his shop. The same one he'd envisioned since the Seer. It was making his head spin.

"Tell me, dearie...what was it that woke you from your miserable little life in the first place?"

"It was a flower Snow found. Its magic woke us."

A flower with the ability to wake two ordinary and non-magical individuals from a Curse as powerful as this. He could only think of one thing.

"The Pixie. Dust from that flower has the ability to reunite anyone who shares True Love."

"Like Snow and me."

"And your daughter…"

David was out the door before he could stop him and question him for more information. He tried. His first instinct was to close his eyes, summon his magic, and chase after him…but he stayed put. His legs shook beneath him. It was so bad he nearly collapsed to the floor. Instead, he clutched his cane tight as he could and stayed on his feet as knowledge swept through him in a great flood. The dam was broken. He was awake, but the Curse was still in place, and magic had not yet come. He was still weak.

Welcome to the 6x17 chapters, one of about two episodes that makes this ficlet worth it. Because really, we didn't see a whole lot of Storybrooke while it was Cursed, and when we did, it was mostly Regina that we saw it through with Rumple always playing a background character. But 6x17, background character or not, Rumple gets to shine here. He's got a storyline, one that's not just something on repeat as we saw at the beginning and one that will sort of help us bleed into the next fiction. In season two, when the Curse is broken, the residents sort of go through this identity crisis before concluding, "we are both our real selves and our Cursed selves." We never really see Rumple experience that. Some of it is just the writing. A&E kept us guessing as to whether or not he knew until halfway through, so they would have been sure not to show an identity crisis. But some of it is also because he knew he would end up here and had hints from the Seer. Still, I wanted him to have that experience of waking up in Storybrooke and being a little off-kilter, questioning the memories in his head, and thinking about who he was now that he was here. This episode sort of helps to do that prematurely. He has the opportunity to experience it when he wakes up for real, but half experiences it now, during the 6x17 episode. So, get ready for some awesome Rumple Gold reflections in the next chapter because they are coming at you next!

Thank you, Jennifer Baratta, MerlockvonBaron, Alarda, Isabel, and Fox24, for your reviews on the last chapter. I hope you'll find the 6x17 bits interesting. I wasn't much of a fan of this Pixie Flower storyline; it felt a bit forced and convenient to me when I first saw it. But I found myself unexpectedly pleased with how these chapters came together and worked in conjunction with the next fiction. Plus, it was a break from the monotony of the repetition. Peace and Happy Reading!