Sloth: Hello everyone! Here it is, the final part of the prologue! After this, things will roughly follow the canon of OUAT. and by roughly I mean use major plot points with tweaks. Maybe some characters will appear where they shouldn't. Some plots might get dropped, others expanded. But over all, it's gunna a fun, angsty ride for everyone involved. Mostly Ben.
Enjoy!
Chapter Five. The Miner's Day Curse
Rumpelstiltskin's Castle. Many Years Ago
/\/\/\/\/\/\/
"I am the ruler of this castle. The Dark One. Now I demand you return my cup and then leave my home."
There was a moment of silence at the words sunk in. This was the infamous Beast of the Dark Castle. The darkest of sorcerers who brought fear into everyone who came across him.
The VK laughed.
"Ah..uh…Stop, laughing. I'm serious!"
Carlos wheezed with laughter, using the table to hold himself up. Jay's boisterous laugh echoed through the dining hall. When the boy tried to demand them to stop, Jay just laughed harder. Evie had the decency to at least laugh politely, trying to hold it in by placing her hand over her mouth. Mal however didn't have about the kid's feelings. She not only laughed openly, but she purposefully held the tea cup precariously.
"You're not the Dark One," she stated as the laughter died down. The boy looked offended.
"Yes I am," he said, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to reaffirm his lie. "I am Rumpelstiltskin and –"
"Rumpelstiltskin's a creepy old man who's locked up in Snow White's dungeon," Mal interrupted with a smirk. The boy faltered and Mal knew she had him.
"H-he's locked in…I mean. No, I'm not."
She walked up to him, getting close in his personal bubble. Though he was a good seven or so inches taller, he took a step back. She allowed the cup to swing gently on her finger. His eyes lingered on it, giving her all the leverage she needed. "My mother happens to be one of the darkest sorceresses in the realm. And she loves to gossip about her enemies. So trust me when I say, Rumpelstiltskin's locked away and he's never coming back."
The boy blinked and Mal pressed forward.
"So how's about you tell us who you really are…or," She tossed the cup at Jay, who caught it effortlessly. After all the times they spent together, she could always count on him to make a catch. And tossing the cup definitely stirred the little prince as he tried to grab at it, but it was far out of his reach. Mal stepped in his way, before he could go after Jay. "You can pick up the pieces of that little cup. So, do we have a deal?"
The boy frowned, biting his bottom lip before sighing. "Do you promise to give it back?"
Mal just twirled a strand of hair. "Jay."
On command, Jay lifted the cup and prepared to smash it against the table.
"No no no! Ok, ok! I accept. I-I'm not the Dark One."
"We figured," Carlos snorted.
"I…My name is Ben. But this is my castle."
"Smashing the cup," Jay announced and the boy – this "Ben" - freaked out.
"No, stop! It's true!" Ben shouted, reached out past Mal to get the cup, but the dragoness held him back.
"Step back, Princey," she told him. "This is the Dark One's castle, not your's."
"It is. The Dark One's…" he sighed, scratching the back of his head in quite the endearing manner. He muttered something under his breath that had Mal rolling her eyes. She turned to Jay and he playfully started to just juggle the cup. Despite how reckless he looked, Jay was a master of the slight of hand. He easily made it look like he was fumbling the cup when he had perfect control of it. As the cup bounced between his fingers, Ben finally blurted, "He's my father."
Mal turned. "Jay."
"No! Look, I can prove it. Just…Just give me a chance," he pleaded. He looked like an overgrown puppy honestly. She rolled her eyes and felt like she was going to regret what she going to do. She looked him, enjoying the little panic that flashed across his eyes.
"You get, one chance."
He gulped and nodded. "Follow me, Dearie"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Storybrooke. Miner's Day. 2002
/\/\/\/\/\/\/
The festivities were in full swing. Little booths had filled the town square and everyone in town happily went to each both to either play the little games or buy some of the food. Everyone was in high spirits. The Mayor strolled through the crowd, but rather than patronize the people who got in her way, she stopped at each booth, showing off her little prince as her daughter took pictures of their happy little family.
In one booth, Mal and her foster mom were busy selling some treats. The two women worked in synchronicity, moving around each other or exchanging food like trained performers. There were even little moments where she would flirt with Doug, who was manning the ring toss booth. Jane was helping Astrid try and sell candles for the convent's fundraiser. They didn't seem to make much. As he watched Carlos and Jay leave the booth, Ben put down the flowers he was supposed to deliver to the Mayor's office.
As he watched citizens walk by, part of him wanted to go over and buy a candle. Maybe his grandfather would like one. Grampa Moe had been a little stressed out lately. They were having trouble selling flowers this year due to the harsh weather. And Mr. Gold had been circling around their shop, eyeing the truck like a predatory hawk. The man's presence near the shop had put his grandfather on edge. And when his grandfather is on edge, he doesn't think. Ben rubbed his stomach, swallowing.
If he was going to be honest with himself, he shouldn't have tested Grampa Moe. He had to be a good boy. Go to school, get home on time, and get to work. Just three simple little things. And he tried, he really did. But maybe he should have tried harder. And what Grampa Moe did, he did because he cared. That's what he told Ben. And he was family. Family cared about each other.
Right?
Smiling to himself at the thought of his grandfather's happy face, Ben made the choice to stop and buy a candle. Jane looked up and the younger girl stuttered a greeting. "H-Hi. W-would y-you l-like a c-candle? Only f-five dollars."
He nodded, trying to smile politely.
With the purchase made, Ben turned back to where he had set down a bouquet of flowers. Only someone else grabbed it first. He froze at the sight of Gil and his football cohorts.
"Aw, for me?" the taller boy gasped in mock delight. Gil's friends laughed.
The color drained from his face and Ben tried to reach for the bouquet. Gil and his cronies laughed as they decided to play monkey in the middle. Now, Ben wasn't short by any means. But the problem was he slouched a lot. It helped him go unnoticed. But for some reason he just couldn't understand, Gil spot Ben out of a crowd. He reached for them.
"Aw, what's wrong? You want these?" Gil asked as he held the flowers out of reach. Ben nodded his head frantically. He just wanted the flowers back so he could do the job Grampa Moe trusted to him. He couldn't screw up again. Not again.
"Ok, just tell us to stop," Gil said as he held the flowers impossibly high. Ben froze. That...that wasn't fair. "Come on, Benny-boo. If we're bothering you, just tell us to stop."
He trembled inside. He tried to go for the flowers, but Gil laughed and tossed them to one of his team mates, who tossed it to their third member. Ben just ended up embarrassing himself by spinning in a circle for their amusement. They laughed just laughed at him. They always laughed at him.
He could feel his eyes sting and he had to shut them. Men don't cry, Grampa Moe told him. Men don't cry.
"f…f…"
"Huh? What was that, Benny-boo?"
His lips trembled. The sound bounced around his throat and barely reached his tongue. He tried to tell them off; to get them to leave him alone. But all he did was make a barely audible sound that was reminiscent of a dying motorboat. It made them laugh harder.
"Speak up, Ben, can't hear ya."
"Oh man, what a freak."
"Just like his mom."
Men don't cry. Men don't cry. He repeated Grampa Moe's mantra. Even as the taunts grew louder and the laughter grew hardier. Men don't cry. Men don't cry. The taunts kept coming. Even as he covered his ears. Freak. Weirdo. Orphan. He had heard them all before, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Why were they so mean to him? What did he even do?
The flowers smacked him in the face. The shock of it had him reeling, flinching so bad that he threw himself to the floor, gaining more laughter from the jocks. They laughed, even as they walked over him. Gil stepping on the flowers just for the hell of it.
No one even bother to look at him. People just walked by as Gil and his crew left him there. He sat there for some time, biting his bottom lip. The mantra repeated in his head. Men don't cry. Men don't cry. Men…. don't…
Ben drew in a shaky breath. He stood up, his legs giving way slightly. The flowers were an afterthought. He stumbled, trying as best he could to hide his face as it turned red. As the tears blurred his vision, he stumbled and nearly ran into someone.
"Beg your pardon, young man. But I suggest watching where it is you're going."
On a normal day, that voice would make him freeze in place. It was a voice that brought dread to anyone in town. He locked eyes with Mr. Gold for just a second. But it seemed like a second was all it took for the man's features to soften slightly.
"Is there something the matter?" the man asked. He reached for Ben and the boy flinched. No, he didn't need this. He just needed to get away. He was running. His legs moving before his body could. He didn't know where he was going, but he just needed to get away. From all this. From everything. He just wanted everything to stop and just go back to when things were simple. Back when his mom wasn't losing her mind and would hold him and sing to him. Back when it was just the two of them and not this bull shit of a town breathing down his neck.
He ran without thinking.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Gold was a busy man. But even he knew when to just enjoy himself. Miner's Day was one of the few town events he went to. Mostly he just walked around, got something greasy from the booths, mock the nun's for their failed fundraising, and then called it a day. But it would see today would be different.
As he hobbled into the square, some ruffian had the nerve to stumble into. If he hadn't been using his trusty cane, he could have easier hurt himself. He scowled at the youth. Children now a days didn't seem to respect their elders. His immediate response was to reprimand the boy.
"Beg your pardon, young man," he scowled. "But I suggest watching where it is you're going."
But any ill will he had dissipated as soon as the boy looked up at him. The first thing he noted were the boy's eyes. The hazel orbs were wet and fresh tears continued to stream down. His face was red and his bottom lip looked raw and tender, as if someone had been chewing on them for a while. And yet, there was something about this boy. A face from long ago. He couldn't quite place it, but there was something in the back of his head telling him he should know who he was looking at.
"Is there something the matter?" he asked. Mind you, Gold was not a nurturing man. Being gentle was not a part of his dictionary. And yet, he couldn't help but reach down to steady the boy. That would seem to be the wrong response, as the boy flinched hard enough to create a bit of distance between them. Usually, Gold would relish in the fear he created. But seeing this boy flinch created a knot in his stomach. As he watched the boy run off, that dread only grew.
Ah well. Gold was sure the boy will be fine.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Dinner was a quiet affair as usual. After getting back, Ben had time to calm his nerves before he got dinner ready. As the day came to an end, Grampa Moe had returned. His cheeks were a little flushed and Ben was happy he made his grandfather's favorite for dinner. As they ate, he noticed his grandfather was on his three drink. He just had to hold out until bed time.
Unfortunately, before they could even finish their meal, they received a phone call. Then next thing he knew, he was letting out a squeak of pain as his back slammed against the wall.
"You stupid boy. Do you realize how important that delivery was? What do you have to say for yourself, Boy?"
Ben quivered as he looked up at his grandfather.
"Of course you, bloody won't say anything. Ye never do," Moe sneered.
Ben opened his mouth to apologize. But as always, his voice failed him. It didn't even reach his throat.
"We needed that money to pay off the truck!" Moe reminded him. "Now Gold's going to take it. We'll never be able to do our deliveries! You've ruined us!"
Ben shook his head. It was just a mistake.
He let out a raspy gasp as Moe grabbed him by the collar and started drag him across the room. Panic started to fill his veins as they started to walk the all too familiar path. He shook his head, making inaudible pleas. He grabbed the corner of the door frame and halted their steps.
"What do you think you're doing?"
He didn't have an answer. Grampa Moe pulled harder and Ben stumbled and fell. But he endured the pain. Anything was better than going in there.
"Get up! Don't you understand? You've got to take responsibility for your actions, Boy. This is the only way you'll learn."
Ben tried to make his plea, but Grampa Moe was bigger. Stronger. He grabbed Ben and pulled him up despite the boy's struggling. He didn't want to go back in. He was dragged down the hall, towards the door. His struggles grew more frantic. He'd been good. He did everything right. Everything his grandfather wanted of him. It was just one mistake. He was sorry. He really was.
The door to the linen closet was unbolted and opened, darkness greeting them. On instinct, Ben stupidly placed his foot against the doorframe. It gave him a few seconds of reprieve.
But only a few.
"What do you think you're doing?" Grampa Moe asked, his voice low and steady. Ben looked at him, wide eyed. He didn't know. He just didn't want to go inside. "This is your punishment. Now. Get. In!"
Blinded by rage, Moe pried Ben away from the doorframe and hurled the boy as hard as he could.
His head cracked against the doorframe.
He fell to the floor unmoving.
"Ben? Ben. Get up, Boy. Be…oh god. Oh god, what…look what you've made me done. Why couldn't you have just do as you were told?"
.
.
.
It would have been easy to get rid of the body. Simply toss him in the lake and make it look like the world had finally gotten to the boy. Everyone would believe it. No one would question it.
But in Storybrooke, things were never that easy. The curse that held the town would do everything it could to ensure its caster's happiness. No force in the world short of the Savior could stop it. No one was allowed to die unless the queen wished it. So as the midnight came, time came to a standstill. Magic pulsed through the town, turning back the hands of time. As everyone that had been brought over by the curse went back. Back until the year was redone. Subtle things changed. The queen would find Henry safe and sound in his crib by her side. Evie's pictures of the boy remained and the town would all know of the boy.
But other things…things that didn't relate to the queen would remain. Ingrid would get a knock on the door and be introduced to her new foster-daughter, Mal. Carlos would once again be accosted by Pongo, leading weeks of therapy. Jay would continue volunteering at the hospital. Mary Margaret would visit John Doe in the morning before class. Mr. Gold would open his shop, despite wanting nothing more than to mourn the loss of his wife and unborn child. And Ben would wake up locked in the linen closest, praying Grampa Moe would let him out soon.
And it would be the same. Over and over for the next 11 years until a yellow bug drove into town.
Sloth: Emma has arrived in Storybrooke and, if it wasn't clear before, the clock's now ticking. There's no reset now, so if she can't change fate, then Ben dies on Miner Day. dun dun dun!
And the next chapter might take a while to come out. I've been jumping around chapters and haven't exactly written chapter six...so patients.