XVIII

***Found***

The breath caught and stuttered in his throat, causing him to choke as a soft hand brushed the hair back away from his eyes. Her hand, so soft, gentle. Her touch, one he'd never thought to feel again. "Belle!"

"Rum, shh, what's wrong?" she asked, slipping her arm around his shoulders to help him into a sitting position in the cold snow. Her teeth chattered, and she pressed against his side to share in his warmth.

"Where the hell were you!?" he bellowed.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, arching a brow at him. Belle kept her voice low, knowing it would do neither of them any good to get into an argument when they were exposed in a foreign land.

"Gods," he groaned, pulling her into the circle of his arms. "I thought I'd lost you! I couldn't find you, and -"

Belle pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stave off the pressure behind her eyes from growing worse. Her head was filled with things she couldn't comprehend, and it was giving her a monstrous headache. "My head is killing me. I didn't think you'd care for me to be sick in your lap, so I looked for a handy bush. I'm sorry you were worried."

"Portals are tricky … I could have easily lost you in the void."

"But you didn't!" she tried to reassure him, and leaned in to kiss him softly. "It will take more than a bit of magic to pry me from your side, Rum."

Rumpelstiltskin heaved himself to his feet, dragging her up with him. He was reluctant to let her go for even a moment after the desolation which had crept through him when he'd thought he'd lost her. His own head swam with knowledge of the new world, causing it to pound painfully. Some of it was hard for him to believe, but it wasn't the first time he'd encountered such. "We need to find shelter. It's too cold out here and I don't want you to fall ill," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her brow. He cursed, stumbling, his old wound refusing to allow him a moment's respite.

Belle caught him, her grip on his arm tightening as she reached for the charmed reticule tied securely about her wrist. "Hold on, love. I know I have it here somewhere."

He groaned. "Belle, please tell me you didn't bring my walking staff."

"Nope," she grinned. "Jefferson left you a parting gift." From within the deep recesses of her bag, she withdrew an elegant ebony cane, it's curved handle engraved with ancient runes gleaming in the moonlight. His features softened exponentially as he took it from her and leaned his weight upon it. "He knew you'd need it. He said he didn't want anything slowing you down in your search for Bae."

"Why didn't he give it to me himself?"

She chuckled. "Because he didn't want you to take it the wrong way. And don't try to argue, Rumpel. You know you would have."

He tugged gently on her gloved hand, leading her away from the fountain, grumbling under his breath. "Come on, dearest. Let's go exploring."

*.*.*

"Is there a Ren Faire in town or something?" the bored looking desk clerk inquired, his gaze swinging between Rumpelstiltskin and his wife. "Wicked getups, by the way."

"Rum, what's a Ren Faire?" Belle whispered to her husband, a frown creasing her brow when her new wealth of knowledge implanted from the spell didn't provide her with answers. She was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the clerk's scrutiny and she didn't like it.

"No idea, dearest."

The young man leaned forward, an unruly lock of dark blonde hair falling over his brow as he gaped at them. "Haven't you ever heard of a Renaissance Faire? We have them here two or three times a year. It's where people dress up … kinda like you both in period costumes, and –"

"Chester!"

The boy quailed as another man stepped up to his side, a disapproving air surrounding him. "Are you harassing the guests again?"

Belle pasted a charming smile to her lips and rested one bejeweled hand on the desk. "No, he was simply telling us about a fair your town holds. No harm done," she said sweetly. To look at the thundercloud of irritation on Rumpelstiltskin's set features lent lie to her claim, however.

The hotel manager's lips turned up into a smarmy smile as he looked down on her. "Is there another convention in town? Cosplaying and whatnot?"

The former sorcerer banged a hand on the desk, leaning over and baring his teeth. "Will the two of you be able to provide us with a room, or not?" he gritted out. He was swiftly losing patience with the two, and he especially didn't like how the manager seemed to be undressing Belle with his beady little eyes. If he still had his magic, the man would be wriggling around in his own slime trail by now.

Belle rummaged in her bag and brought out a dozen or so gold coins, laying them out on the counter while the manager's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. "For the week," she added. She turned to Rumpelstiltskin for his approval and he nodded. They should be able to acquire a more permanent residence by then.

"That should cover the cost of the room as well as any services by your staff we might need, correct?" he asked, his voice filled with quiet menace, daring the two to disagree.

The manager nodded, avarice dripping from his expression. "Of course, Mr. –"

"Gold," Rumpelstiltskin provided, his lips quirking at the newfound respect in the man's tone. "Mr. and Mrs. Rum Gold."

*.*.*

Two Months later …

Belle glanced idly at her husband where they shared the back seat of the town car, a furrow carving a deep groove between her brows. She briefly met Dove's eyes in the rearview mirror and shook her head. Really, she didn't know what she would have done without the man. It had almost been like fate had stepped in to intervene on their behalf when he'd literally fallen into their path outside a sweet shop on twenty-seventh.

Fired from his job for giving out some of the morning's pastries to a few of the homeless children in the area. Apparently, he didn't care if it cut into the shop owner's profits. He wasn't about to let the youths go hungry if he could help it. Dove's kindness had impressed Rumpelstiltskin, and she knew he'd want someone to help Baelfire in just such a manner if their boy was in need and hungry. The man's sheer size alone was enough to intimidate the masses, but he was the former Dark One. Nothing intimidated him … aside from his wife's temper.

Dove – now firmly ensconced in the apartment over the garage of the house Rumpelstiltskin had purchased – had the comfortable job of caretaker, chauffer, handyman, and all-around general go-to man. He was proving to be invaluable as the Golds navigated their way through the land without magic and acclimated themselves into their new life. Yet they hadn't been able to locate Rumpelstiltskin's son, no matter how hard they searched. The coin Tinkerbell had given him hadn't glowed once.

Then why were they here? Why had the spell brought them to Boston of all places? Belle had done her research, not that much was needed with the knowledge provided with the spell, and this was just one city amongst many. Why this one? She dragged her gaze from Dove's questioning look in the mirror and looked down at the map spread between her and her husband on the back seat. "Where are you going to search today, Rum?" she asked.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. "I don't know," he murmured, perusing the map. He pointed to the sections he and Dove had already searched. "Perhaps this area around Lexington. I believe we should be back fairly early." He mustered up a smile for her. She'd been such a great source of comfort through every disappointment, his light in the darkness as he fell into despair of never finding his son. How he'd love to get his hands on Regina and that blasted fairy for the false hope they'd built up in him. He'd come to realize it was simply a ploy to rid the Enchanted Forest of his brand of evil. May they rot!

The car came to a stop outside the sixth street shelter in Arlington. Belle had thought it a good idea to check them all throughout the city and surrounding areas. If Bae was here, surely someone would have seen him. At least that's how she'd started out. Her soft heart soon had her wanting to help the needy in the area, and she'd volunteered to work three days a week at the shelter.

"It will happen … sooner or later, we'll find him," she assured him, her hand rising to cup his cheek as she leaned in for a kiss. "Be safe."

"I will, dearest. Shall I send the car for you at four?"

Belle patted Dove on the shoulder, her eyes once again finding his in the mirror. He smiled, clearly intercepting her worry. She knew she could depend on the man for her husband's safety. He wouldn't let him go off half-cocked.

"Yes … four," she murmured distractedly, unable to shake the feelings of anxiety twisting in her gut. "And I have my phone in case –"

"In case we find him," Rumpel finished for her. He pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve some of the pressure behind his eyes before meeting her worried gaze. "Don't work too hard today, sweetheart."

She released him reluctantly and got out of the car, remaining where she was until the town car pulled out of sight, the knots in her belly worsening the farther away he traveled. It wasn't usually so bad, the fear, but today …

Belle did her best to put aside the nervous fluttering in her stomach, and pulled open the door to the shabby looking shelter which offered hope to so many in the area. She looked around at the worn faces staring back at her, some wary, some welcoming, and let her lips curl into a warm smile. The time since they'd arrived in the land without magic hadn't been easy, especially for her husband as he tried so hard to adapt to the loss of his power. She realized – not for the first time – just how fortunate they'd been.

They had a home, wealth – and most importantly – each other. Baelfire was the only missing piece to their happy ending … or their happy beginning as she liked to think of it. She didn't want to give into her husband's theory that it was all some diabolical plot to banish him from the Enchanted Forest. Belle sighed and hung her coat by the door, smoothing her hand along the stylish black pencil skirt she wore. She needed to focus on her volunteer work instead of her own problems.

She was just tying an apron about her trim waist when Marla stuck her head through the door leading into the kitchen. "Hey, Belle! You're early today," the woman chirped happily in greeting. In her fifties, her silver hair cut in a pixie-style and who acted far younger than her years, Marla had opened the shelter twenty years before when her husband had died in an accident and left her a wealthy widow. It was her way of giving back, and she never had anything but a smile and a shoulder for any in need.

"Yeah," Belle returned the woman's hug in greeting. "Rum had an appointment this morning and I thought I'd ride in with him. How're things here?"

"Oh, not bad. Paul already checked the supplies we received from the food bank, and Cindy burnt the carrot mash I was planning as a side dish for the lunch crowd, but … "

Belle chuckled. "In other words, just another normal day here."

"Oh, yeah." The woman sighed. "Look," she said, urging Belle to look out over the large dining room with its folding tables and metal chairs. "We've got a few new visitors today. Why don't you see if you can get them to fill out a card for our records? Some might even want to stay in the dorms upstairs if they've nowhere else to go. It's so cold, and the winter hasn't even kicked in fully yet."

Belle's eyes narrowed as she took in the rag-tag group of teenagers chatting amiably at one of the tables, shaking her head. It was good the group could find something to be cheerful about under such unhappy circumstances. "I'll take care of it, and then I'll come help you in here," she told Marla.

The older woman smiled and disappeared through the door, already calling for her helpers. Belle hurried down the hall to the office to find the visitor's cards and some pens before returning to the dining hall. It was then she noticed the boy sitting off to the side, closest to the window, his brow pressed against the cold glass. The sadness wringing his eyes made her heart hurt. She approached the group huddled around the table and began passing out the cards.

"Hello, my name is Belle. I volunteer here at the shelter. I'd like you each to fill out one of these cards as best as you are able, and we'll see about getting you a hot meal and a warm bed," she said, going through the same spiel Marla had taught her.

"Why's we gotta fill it out? What if I don't want to," one older boy grumbled, his eyes dark and brooding.

"It helps us keep track for Ms. Marla's records. Sometimes, she is able to find little odd jobs for our more regular visitors. It gives them a chance to get back on their feet."

A little blonde girl, no more than thirteen if Belle had to guess, turned hopeful eyes up at her. "She's not going to send us back, is she?"

"We don't want no trouble," an older brunette piped up. "But we ain't going back home."

Belle rested a gentle hand on the blonde's shoulders. "We'll do everything we can to help you without betraying your trust. You don't even have to use your real name if you're not comfortable."

That seemed to motivate the group to fill out their cards, and the only sound to come from them was the scratching of their pens on paper. She called out to Cindy to fetch them all some hot chocolate, and moved off to sit next to the lonely boy at the window.

"Hi," she said softly, taking a seat across from him. She took two cups of the steaming chocolate off the tray when Cindy passed and pushed one in his direction. "I'm Belle."

The boy with his unruly mop of dark brown curls, turned glassy eyes in her direction and gave her a stiff nod. "I heard … when you introduced yourself to the others."

She tilted her head to the side, studying him carefully. "Why are you sitting over here all by yourself instead of with your friends?"

He rubbed at his nose with the back of his sleeve and gave a loud sniff. "They're not my friends. I heard them talking about this place and followed them here. Just wanted to be warm for a few minutes. Not used to the cold anymore." His gaze dropped to the cup as he reached for it, wrapping his hands around the ceramic mug in search of the warmth he so craved.

"You live in Boston and you're not used to the cold?" she inquired, feeling there was more to this boy than what she was seeing with her eyes. A story lingering behind the troubled sable eyes and the dark furrows marring his brow.

"Haven't been here but a couple days," he provided, taking a sip of the chocolate. A deep sigh rattled up from his chest. "Used to live on an island. When I was a kid, though … my old village, it snowed there a lot."

The hairs stood up on the back of her neck at the use of that term for his home. She gave him a hard look, taking in his features and felt herself tremble. It couldn't be him … not like this … for him to just stumble upon her when Rumpelstiltskin spent every day out on the streets looking for him. "What's your name?" she barely breathed.

A violent cough wracked his thin frame. "N-Neal," he replied.

Her eyes widened as she realized he was ill, but she couldn't help the disappointment she felt over his name. "That your real name?" she couldn't help but ask.

"You told them they didn't have to use their real names," he accused, his brow creasing in worry.

"Of course not." She reached over the table and patted his hand, her own cup completely forgotten. "But I can't let you stay here if you're ill. Come with me, and I'll take you to the clinic to have you checked over. They'll be able to help you with that cough."

His dark eyes filled with fear, and he quickly pulled his hand from her grasp. "No! Don't need no doctoring."

Belle's heart ached for him. He was just a child with no one to help him. "Darling, I wouldn't leave you there. I just think you need a checkup. I'll stay with you the entire time, and if you like, when they're done, we'll come right back here."

"Y-You'll let me stay here?"

"Yes. It's what we do."

Belle hurried to get her coat and tell Marla what she'd be doing for the rest of the afternoon, promising to be back later. Her phone weighed heavily in her pocket, knowing she should call Rumpelstiltskin to let him know she was leaving and would possibly not be at the shelter when Dove came to fetch her at four. He'd be furious if he thought she was putting herself in danger, and the neighborhood where the shelter was located wasn't the best.

Once she and the boy settled comfortably in a cab, she knew she couldn't put it off any longer. "Excuse me just for a moment, Neal. I need to let my husband know where I'll be." He nodded and turned his gaze to the window while she dialed.

He answered on the second ring. "Hello, dearest. Are you done for the day already?"

Belle smiled at the sound of his voice. "No, I'm not. One of our visitors is ill and I'm bringing him to the clinic to have him checked out. I wanted to let you know where I'd be."

"Ill? You're not going to drag home some kind of contagion, are you? You have to be careful, Belle," he scolded gently. He wouldn't have her putting herself at risk for some homeless waif.

"Stop being so uncharitable, Rum darling."

"Pfft!" he scoffed.

"If you don't hear from me by four, could you come for me at the clinic?" she asked, her sweet tone never faltering. You could catch more flies with honey, after all.

"As you wish. Should I wear a mask?" he snarked.

"I have a feeling you're going to become better acquainted with the sofa if you don't stop."

He grumbled incoherently over the phone.

"Sorry, didn't catch that."

"Fine!" he snapped. "You have no sense of humor as of late."

"Goodbye, darling."

She slipped the phone back into her pocket to find the boy's eyes on her. "I'm not causing problems for you, am I?" he asked, frowning.

"No, my husband just likes to be difficult at times. Especially when he's worried about something."

"What's he worried about?" Neal asked, wiping at his watery eyes.

Belle shot him a sad smile and patted his knee. "His son is lost, and he's been searching for him for a very long time. We moved here recently in hopes of finding him."

Before he could answer, they pulled up before the clinic and she leaned forward to pay the driver. Snow was beginning to fall as they exited the cab and quickly made their way to the warmth which awaited them inside the old brownstone. She urged the boy into a seat and went to check him in, taking the clipboard from the receptionist to fill out his paperwork.

Belle held out the clipboard to him as she sat beside him. "You want to have a go at this? Or would you rather I fill it out?"

He gave her a beseeching look, which so reminded her of Rumpelstiltskin when he wanted something really badly, she forgot to breathe. That nagging feeling was back, eating away at her stomach.

"Would you do it, please?" he asked.

"Hmm … alright." She set the clipboard in her lap, pen poised. "So, are we going to be using your real name … or your fake name?"

The boy blushed and ducked his head, his chin resting against his chest as he struggled with his conscience as to whether or not he should trust her. She waited patiently through his indecision. "I don't like to use my real name. It's not very common here."

"I'm sure it's fine, dear."

He looked up at her, his gaze locked with hers as he wondered why she would want to help him, why she was so understanding and sweet and all the things his mother hadn't been. He wanted so badly to trust her, to have someone look at him without some form of judgement in her gaze. It hadn't been easy since he'd arrived, and he'd been met with nothing but scorn for his ragged appearance. But there was just something about Belle which made him want to trust her. "It's … Baelfire. And before you ask, no … I don't have a last name. It's just Baelfire."

The pen trembled in her hand, her heartrate sped up and she found it difficult to catch a stuttering breath. Her mind was screaming, and the myriad of conflicted thoughts left her light-headed. She was beginning to wonder if maybe she was going to have to see the doctor when this was all over. He coughed again, startling her out of her fugue. She reached over and rubbed his back … her stepson's back … and tsked soothingly. "It'll be alright, darling," she crooned gently. "We can use your other name and I'll just tack my last name on the end." Why not, she mused. He was her family after all. She was sure Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't have any misgivings about footing the bill for the boy's medical treatment.

He offered her a wan smile, his eyes drooping with weariness. She filled out as much of the forms as she could and then turned them in to the receptionist. Yet, now that the task was complete, she was at a loss as to what to do next. Baelfire seemed to relax as he watched her pace about the waiting room. There was something almost calming in the tap tap tap of her heels on the worn linoleum.

When he went into another fit of coughing, she dug in her bag for change to buy him a bottle of orange juice from the vending machine. The wait was taking its toll on her. She really wanted the doctor to see him before she called for her husband. If he arrived too early, he would likely panic to see his boy ill and hover belligerently at the doctor's elbow with all manner of threats to his well-being if he didn't cure his son immediately. It was already going to be an emotional confrontation without unnecessary violence.

"Neal Gold," the nurse called as she came to the door leading to the exam rooms. "The doctor will see you now, dear."

"Well, it's about time," Belle grumbled under her breath so only he would hear. She glared at the nurse when the woman moved to block her path. "Is there a problem?"

"I'm sure he doesn't need you to come back and hold his hand," the nurse said in a sickly-sweet voice. "He looks like a big boy to me."

Baelfire grabbed Belle's hand and held on tight. "No, I want my mom to come back with me," he lied. "I don't like doctors and I'd feel better if she were with me."

The nurse sighed and rolled her eyes, but didn't protest further as she led them into one of the rooms. Belle gnashed her teeth, but kept her calm. She had encountered the woman several times since she'd been volunteering, and she just couldn't bring herself to like her. The only good thing she could say was that she was efficient and thorough. Soon enough, she was taking Baelfire's vitals and getting him into a paper gown so the doctor could have a look at him.

Belle's phone vibrated in her pocket as the nurse stepped out, leaving her and Baelfire alone. She glanced down and paled. Crap! It was a text …

Sweetheart, we haven't turned up anything here. Are you nearly done at the clinic?

Nearly :/

What's with the face?

How soon until you're able to get here? How long would she be able to stall him, she wondered.

Why? What's wrong? Did something happen?

Damnit, she fumed. This is exactly what she'd been afraid of. Rumpel, I'm fine. Just … you don't have to wait until four is all.

Twenty minutes Dove says.

Ask for me at the desk and I'll come out to meet you. *hugs*

She'd just dropped the phone back into her pocket when it buzzed again.

Are you certain nothing's wrong, dearest?

I'm sure. Be safe and I'll see you soon.

"That your husband?" Baelfire asked as he fidgeted with one of the ties on the side of his gown.

Belle grinned sheepishly, hating herself for keeping such monumental news from the both of them, but giddy at the same time that their search was finally over. "Yes, he's a bit of a worrier, but I think you'd like him … a lot."

A knock on the door and the doctor poked his head in. "How are we doing today? Oh, hello, Mrs. Gold. Another one from the shelter?"

"Well it is the cold and flu season, Dr. Reynolds. Can't be too careful."

Belle sat in the chair and listened attentively as the doctor asked the boy questions – which Bae evaded with aplomb his father would've been proud of – and checked him over with various instruments. Finally, Reynolds diagnosed a simple cold which could be treated with antibiotics and a strong cough suppressant. She was able to breathe a sigh of relief as she took the prescriptions from him and nodded at Bae to get dressed. She couldn't wait to take him shopping for some decent attire. But first she was going to have a very emotional former Dark One on her hands.

"Alright, Bae, I'll just step out so you can get dressed, and then we'll wait for my husband out front."

The boy stared at her, a puzzled frown causing a furrow between his dark brows. "You called me Bae," he whispered. "No one but my papa ever called me that before."

Belle bit her lip, inwardly cursing the slip. "Really? I thought it fitting."

He relaxed and reached for his jeans.

Another knock and that snotty nurse was poking her head through the door to sneer at Belle. "Your husband is here, Mrs. Gold. I asked him to have a seat in the waiting room." She gave an imperious sniff. "I'm not your errand girl, y'know."

"Of course not, dear. If you were, I'd have fired you long ago," Mrs. Gold snarked. With a satisfied smirk curling her lips, she linked her arm with Baelfire's and set off down the hall.

Before she could reach the door, her phone rang. He had given up on texting and was now calling. Without breaking stride, she answered, then had to hold the device away from her ear to muffle the shrieking coming out of the other end.

"Belle! The coin is burning a hole in my bloody pocket!"

She laughed nervously. "Is it now?"

"You need to hurry, Belle. If he's close –"

"Oh, darling, you don't know just how close," she mumbled. "But first I want you to meet someone."

"Belle! If he's in the area, we don't have time for pleasantries with your poverty-stricken kids," he hissed.

"Rum, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that." She slid her finger over the end call button and dropped it into her pocket. She further ignored it as it chirped to life again.

"Is everything ok?" Baelfire asked, his sable eyes filled with concern.

Belle fidgeted with the frayed sleeve of his coat. Her heart thumped erratically against her ribs the closer she got to the door. "My husband … well, he can let his emotions carry him away at times, but don't worry. Everything will be just fine. Just please, Bae … please have an open mind when you meet him. Promise you're not going to run off or anything." She felt awful, making him give his word, but it couldn't be helped. They'd searched nearly every moment since they'd arrived, and it was wearing on Rumpel. This needed to be resolved so they could move forward.

Baelfire nodded, smiling down at her. She'd already helped him more than any other person since he'd gotten there. He didn't want to repay her kindness with bad behavior. His papa had taught him better than that. "I promise."

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin sneered at the receptionist as she eyed him nervously. She'd offered him coffee, which he'd declined and then hadn't spoken to her again. Even without the Dark One reigning over his little corner of his mind, he still had the power to intimidate people. What was taking Belle so long? Time was of the essence. After so many dead ends, countless nights spent at his bedroom window formulating one plan after another to design his search, the boundless patience of his wife as he struggled with his demons … now he had a reason to hope.

He continued to pace, scowling down at the phone in his hand because his Belle was now miffed with him and wouldn't answer his calls. He knew he was being a – what was the word she'd taken to using? Ah, yes … a jerk – but he had every reason with the fairy coin burning a hole in his pocket. What was she doing back there, tending to some juvenile delinquent when she could be out here helping to find his son?

The former mage turned to make another circuit of the small waiting room and froze, his eyes glaring a hole through the door as it began to open. "Finally," he breathed out in a ragged whisper. And then he took in the look on her face, completely disregarding the young man beside her. She was pale, her eyes holding a hint of fear, and that was enough to send alarm bells screaming through his head.

"Papa," the boy whispered breathlessly, transfixed as his feet halted, his knees knocking together and the color draining from his face. "No … no, it can't be."

Rumpelstiltskin's gaze swung to him then and he felt as if he were going to fall. He tightened his grip on his cane and stumbled forward, tears springing to his eyes as he gazed upon his son. Three centuries and he hadn't aged a day. He was the same precious child he'd been when he'd fallen screaming into that green vortex of terror. "Bae," he choked out.

A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, none of them good. What if he hated him? What if he really believed him to be a coward as he'd claimed before? But he couldn't dwell on that now … not now when Belle was closing the distance, propelling their son forward.

"He's your husband?!" the boy wailed, casting bewildered eyes down at Belle. She merely shrugged, a bright smile curling her lips as he stumbled forward and wrapped his arms around his father. "Gods, papa! I never thought I'd see you again. How are you even here?"

Rumpelstiltskin wept silently as he rested his cheek against his son's soft curls. "A little spell and a bit of true love, son."

Belle took them both by the hands, pulling them apart and placing herself between them. "I'm sure we can talk about this later. How about we go home?"

"Home?" Baelfire asked.

"We have a grand house, dearie. You're going to love it," Belle beamed. "And there will be plenty of time for you and your papa to get all caught up while I get some food and medicine into you."

Bae chuckled. "You even sound like him."

"I'm a horrible influence on her, son."

"What about the curse? The Dark One?" the boy asked.

Belle grinned at him. "Gone, darling. Or rather suppressed as long as we're here."

Rumpelstiltskin hugged his son once more as Belle climbed into the town car and made room for the rest of her family. "I can't wait to hear your story, son." He wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye. "I'm so sorry, Bae."

"Don't matter, Papa … you came for me. You're here now when I really needed you."

Baelfire climbed into the car, and Rumpelstiltskin followed. The once upon a time mystical Dark One had achieved something no other before him could ever claim … true love and a happy ending. There was hope and love in his future and all he could say was, "Take us home, Dove."

The End

A/N: That's all folks! Hope you enjoyed :D