chapter five ~ alliances shift and walls fall
To the surprise of none in their gathered band – except perhaps Belle, who remembered him as difficult certainly, but had not seen the 28 years of pettiness and sinister deal making, bribery, and veiled threats he had used as Mr. gold in this world – their foe was not happy about relinquishing his hold on sheriff and deputy, nor did he seem particularly grateful to them, even upon once more seeing the young woman for whom he had evinced such concern. Though he kept himself restrained to some degree, probably mostly for Belle's benefit, as they all trooped into his shop accompanied by the falsely cheerful jangle of the bell on his door, there was unmistakable malice glittering under the surface of those somehow reptilian eyes, a danger unspoken but ever-present all the same, despite his measured calm.
"So, you feel thins should cancel both of your debts, do you?" Gold mused, gaze dancing adeptly between Emma and Graham in challenge. "And despite the fact that you've freed the prime suspect in her disappearance?"
The Dark One's beady eyes flicked menacingly over to Killian; true, simmering rage showing visibly in a way that almost twinkled across skin, making Emma swallow an audible gasp and take a step back.
"Now see here, Crocodile," Killian seethed angrily, taking a step forward, despite the vow he had made to himself on their march over to the pawn shop not to engage the imp nor to let his emotions get him into trouble. There were only so many false accusations and attempts at entrapment a man should be expected stomach however, and he had reached his limit.
Emma's fingers firmly gripping his wrist, holding on as though she feared he would rush forward and fling himself into Rumplestiltskin's grasp, pulled him up short at a single step. Killian's blue eyes flicked to meet her green ones, completely captured by her concern and care as she begged him wordlessly not to put himself in danger.
It was Graham though who audibly spoke up next, interrupting the immediate exchange before it could escalate. "That can hardly still be considered the case, Gold… not once you learn where we found her." He stepped in front of both Killian and Emma, as if hoping to defuse some of the tension merely by blocking the enemies from each other's view. Gently, he guided Belle along with him before urging her to tell the man her side of the story encouragingly. Emma found herself hoping that the grateful look Belle gave her friend before turning to speak to her former employer didn't make the situation even worse. Any onlooker would have a hard time missing the affection in Belle's gaze – near adoration, even – though Emma wasn't at all sure either Graham or Belle were aware of it themselves.
Straightening her thin shoulders and standing to her full, if still petite, height, Belle spoke up bravely, steeping right to the counter in genuine appeal to the Dark One's humanity, as if she really did glimpse something more than the barely disguised monster everyone else experienced. "Rumple, please," she urged, beguiling eyes gazing up into his in a way that most people didn't dare, meeting his stare head on with one of her own. "This man," she gestured behind her vaguely, not breaking eye contact with Gold, but indicating Killian all the same, "whatever history you might have with him, he isn't the one who held me prisoner. I was locked up by the Evil Queen. Before we ever left the Enchanted Forest, I'd been kept in her tower longer than I care to recall."
Rumplestiltskin's gaze had undergone a stunning transformation once he truly focused on the tiny brunette before him. The sharp edges to his features softened, and something protective and almost gentle – hard as that was to believe – stole across his visage. He reached out an almost trembling hand to brush a flyaway hair from her cheek, virtually seeming to forget the presence of the stunned observers behind them, not that anyone would have been stupid enough to mock him for an unguarded moment of tenderness. The Dark One himself seemed almost overcome for a moment; as if he couldn't believe his own eyes.
"Instead of holding things that aren't their fault over our sheriff and his deputy's head, we should be thanking them for setting me free at last," Belle pressed. "Moreover, back in our land, if it hadn't been for the sheriff here, I'm not sure I could have kept from going mad with nothing to do and no one to talk to – just silence and loneliness."
"Not even your books, eh?" the pawnbroker teased, a fondness to the words that none of the other would have imagined him capable until that moment.
"Only a few snuck to me by a kind Samaritan," she gestured toward Graham again, and then turned back to her erstwhile former guardian. "Don't you see now, Rumple? It's really we who owe them a debt of gratitude, wouldn't you agree?"
The Dark One in local businessman's apparel did not appear pleased or grateful, more begrudging, but he did cave to her wishes. Clearly whatever connection and history he and Belle French shared, it was enough to sway him, making him concede for her happiness – at least for the moment as she was just regaining her freedom and her life.
The tiny woman gave Gold a beaming grin, almost as if she were proud of him, praising him for simply doing the decent thing, but Emma decided not to dwell on the particulars and simply thank their lucky stars that at least this much had gone better than they could have hoped. If they could maintain some sort of truce with Gold, it would be one less foe to keep a wary eye on and their collective energy could be turned back to keeping Henry – and the rest of Storybrooke – safe from Regina and her twisted, power-mad mother.
Meanwhile, the pawnbroker looked to each of them standing in his doorway in turn, his manner not exactly friendly, but certainly not as chilling and nefarious as it had been previously. Even though it might be reluctant, his carefully considered words left Emma blowing out a soft breath of relief. "Belle speaks the truth," he stated with a small nod for she, Graham, and Ruby. "Thank you for finding her… for setting her free…" His words actually did faltered slightly at that, and Emma was stunned, trying to decide if it were emotion or anger choking the man she would previously have assumed heartless on his very words. "I would have always wondered…I had long believed her dead. This will clear our debt, as you say. Consider our accounts balanced."
Belle stepped forward to embrace Graham and Ruby each one more time, whispering a particularly heartfelt thanks to the former Huntsman and looking near reluctant as well as a bit nervous to see them go.
However, Gold was not quite finished Emma realized as he spoke out once more, voice echoing icily through his shop and freezing them all in place. "We are even as long as you do not get in my way. Regina will pay for what she's done, and interference will not lead anywhere pleasant for you." His words were so final, so resolved, that none of them could find a response to counter with – at least not until he had continued, deceptively placid stare sliding over to Killian, where it darkened and narrowed, making Emma's hackles rise, as he fairly hissed, "And you… don't think that the courtesy extends to you."
Killian glowered, face equally clouded and dark, and betraying none of the shivers of trepidation that skittered down Emma's spine. "Of course not, Crocodile," he spat, mouth twisting to scowl back at the Dark One with matching animosity. "I would expect no better."
Emma wanted to pull him from the shop and away, not liking that in the moment, facing down his greatest enemy, Killian Jones looked every bit as dark and menacing as his nemesis.
Thankfully, they didn't linger much longer to risk the tentative truce they had attained. Graham gave Gold a business-like nod of acceptance to his terms and sent Belle a doubtful look, as if hoping to convey that she could come with them, they hadn't brought her there simply to see her trapped in a different cage. She gave the barest shake of her head and then turned to place a small, staying hand on Gold's, as if assuming the responsibility to see that he did not go after them all with fire – or Killian at least. It made Emma wonder yet again just what sort of relationship Belle and Gold had once shared beyond servant and master, and it also made her wonder about the stolen, yearning glances and seeming closeness between this newfound young woman and her friend Graham. Whatever they meant, she hoped it wouldn't lead to trouble and pain for them both. Particularly if Rumplestiltskin himself had noticed their connection, Emma couldn't help herself from fearing it would put her friend right back into the Dark One's sights. He was clearly a possessive sort – but it with actually possessions or the people whom he loved – and if Belle were on that list, Emma sense the sinister man behind the tailored suit and falsely mild manner would not take kindly to another holding her fancy.
Shaking those worries and questions from her head, Emma tried to focus on the present tasks before them. Stepping into motion, she breathed a silent sigh of relief when Killian allowed her to grip the hand that hung slack from his left arm, turning at her barest pressure to follow her from the store.
As soon as they were out on the street again in the open air, free of the close, musty, and strangely expectant, heavy air of the pawn ship, Killian's tight stance seemed to ease, the tension radiating from his every muscle fled, and he stood before her looking almost drained. Ruby and Graham gave Emma quick, ascertaining looks as if each of her friends were making sure she would be alright. Emma smiled easily, appreciating the gestures, but knowing they were unnecessary. As soon as that troubling darkness of revengeful wrath had left Killian's features, she'd known it was alright again – that whatever had abruptly come over him was gone.
Once her friends were several paces away; Ruby on her way back to the diner, and Graham back to the station, she turned back to the rather shamefaced man who stood before her, head lowered as blue eyes peeked up at her, apology and fading turmoil swimming in the brilliant blue orbs.
"Wanna explain what that was all about in there, Jones?" she asked wryly, tilting her head to study the hand she had yet to release, urging him further along the sidewalk until they paused a better distance from the shop, at a turn off of Main Street from which Emma could see the forest on their left. She hoped it would both put the man beside her more at ease, and put them out of sight and hearing for nosy passersby.
He shook his head dazedly, as if struggling to rid himself from some sort of fog. "I don't rightly know what came over me, Swan," he admitted, voice sincere in its confusion. "It was as though merely seeing the bloody demon again face-to-face made me lose my head. Being in his presence brought all that he too from me, all of his cruelties, back to blaring, painful life."
Looking down at his feet, he shuffled them almost boyishly. It made Emma stifle a bit of a chuckle in spite of the true seriousness of the situation. Killian was far from a boy – every cell and every nerve in her body was aware of him, practically screaming to get closer, to touch, to hold, to taste – and yet, the innocent, contrite air he gave off just then brought the idea to mind all the same. Stunned, and unsure what to do, for several moments Emma merely gaped at him, her brain muddled and her next words uncertain, trying to right herself from the almost magnetic pull he exerted and think straight. "It's okay," she finally murmured lowly, "We all have moments of weakness. I wasn't accusing you – just trying to see if you were alright now."
Biting his lip Killian nodded gruffly before swiping a hand back through his unruly dark hair. "Aye, I've control of myself again…" but his words trailed off and he winced as if in pain before lifting his gaze to finally capture hers head on. "But Lass…Swan…it isn't okay, at all! I came along to help you stand up to him. To aid in your endeavor. My presence and experience were meant to add safety to the venture, and instead I presented another liability. What if I had gotten you hurt? I – I could have caused your death…the way I did Milah's…"
No matter how the sudden shift in him that she had witnessed in the pawn shop had shaken her, it disturbed Emma more to see him so distraught now, and blaming himself for an instinctual reaction. She hadn't fear him putting them in danger, but him giving the Dark One ammunition to hurt him further. He might be daring, strong and resourceful – a survivor of much which would have felled or defeated a lesser man, but he was still mortal. She knew that haunted look behind his eyes that she had already glimpsed when he wasn't on guard; it was one she had felt the weight of carrying herself for most of her life. Never enough for some prospective families, always too much to handle for the social workers and overcrowded group homes, Emma had spent years blaming the pain stuffed down inside on herself, and she could see the aftermath of the same damage in the beautifully flawed man before her – as like recognizing like, the kinship unmistakable.
Yes, he had for a second let show the beast beneath his skin, but that didn't frighten her. Instead, in some way, it thrilled and intrigued her. With scars of her own, Emma was drawn to the strength that had let another like her survive, despite what the world might have thrown his way. Though Emma hadn't known Killian Jones long, something inside her knew him as well as she knew herself, and years couldn't make her understand him any better.
Hating to see the self-loathing and the way he was beating himself up, Emma moved closed without thinking, standing so near him that their chests brushed and their toes touched as the feet meet. Bracketing his stubbled face between her smaller hands, she forced him to look at her head-on, a soothing, shushing voice leaving her throat as she crooned lowly, "Hey…hey…Killian…stop…Don't do that to yourself, okay?...You hear me?"
Almost without realizing it, her fingers began stroking lovingly over a faded scar that ran over his cheekbone under his right ear. The motion might have gone unnoticed by her even then, as she gently rocked back and forth, easing him with her in a calming rhythm, except for the low whine that left the back of his throat at the repeated touch.
Emma couldn't help the beguiled giggle that left her at the unexpected sound, reminding her of nothing more than a dog having its ears scratched and loving every minute. It might be much too soon, it might be moving much too fast, but it that moment, overcome with affection, desire, and the need to heal the ache that clearly plagued him, to let Killian know that she saw him and he was wanted and needed after however long he had been alone, she simply could not hold back. Standing on her toes, Emma reached up to press her lips to his, pulling him down to meet her by the collar, a desperate clash of lips and tongues and heated breaths with heartbeats pounding against each other. It was heady and intense, and for several long, blissful seconds, Emma's world reeled in warm, hazy kaleidoscope patterns while she clung to Killian's firm shoulders for balance and breathed in his scent of rain, pine, and earth – a hint of salty brine in the mix as well tickling her senses.
And then the moment was forcibly broken, Killian pulling back with a gasp, even as his face flushed with the same pleasure that was coursing through her being. "Emma!" His exclamation of alarm tore from his throat, though nearly swallowed by a hum of pleasure before he broke their embrace. "Mhmm, L-lass….No!" Killian jerked away sharply, icicle bright eyes flashing, mouth open, gaping wide-eyed at her as he gripped her biceps firmly to hold her at arm's length. That tongue, which mere moment ago had been performing a delicious introduction with her own that had sent her mind wandering on just what said tongue might feel like trailing across her skin, traced his lower lip, teasing her as he panted roughly, attempting to regain his breath. His voice was hoarse, pained, but desperately serious when he spoke again. "Stop, Emma…please. We can't."
"Why not?" she challenged, her own eyes flashing, frustrated that he had pulled back just when she'd finally found the courage to offer herself to him – to give them a chance. And she suspected greatly that his hesitation was only from his own self-recrimination, fear that his past might somehow catch up to him and hurt her in his future. Her voice crackled in the charged air between them, wavering as she stepped right back into his space once more, body practically vibrating with their nearness and her fervent determination.
Killian again raked an agitated hand through his unruly hair, making the inky-dark strands stand on end wildly. His hand slapped loudly back down against his jean-clad thigh as he blew out a harsh breath, and Emma could sense the strength and power coiled tightly within him as he faced her; chest heaving, muscles clenched, and body barely restraining his desire to pace or to flee, however iron-willed his control. It was clear that touching him again might truly snap his tightly held grip on his wilder impulses. Strangely that was all Emma found she wanted.
Meeting his eyes squarely all the same and refusing to let him pull away, Emma pressed in a bit further, a step that carried her toward him again, even as he edged back enough to match it. "Please, Swan…Emma… You were right before. If we did this…What I am…" he licked those perfect lips, stumbling for words to offer explanation. The nervous action only drew her eyes more pointedly to his mouth however, that firm mouth which had been devouring her whole mere minutes past, kissing her senseless until he had ripped them apart, leaving her desperately wanting. "You're just learning who you are, about your powers, your family, your boy. You don't need this, don't need me – and even if you did, I'm not the one. You saw what happened back there. I'm a danger to you. You must know that. I could hurt you all too easily – as could those who aim to hurt me – and I cannot bear to be the cause… I simply couldn't live with myself. Not again."
His eyes were stormy and dark as he turned his head to break away from her direct stare. The blue depths of them roiled with unsettled emotion and fear, even as he grit his teeth, shaking his head once more while she stepped forward, faster this time than he could retreat.
Catching his arm, Emma quickly replaced her hands on either side of his unshaven face, letting her fingertips lightly stroke along his warm skin. "I don't care," she countered firmly, even as she noticed part of the reason his gaze was so turbulent was that the usually pure sky blue was being shot through with almost unnatural dark swirls, changing them to something hazy and unsettled; matching the change that the rest of him would undergo before the night was through. "Do you think I don't know what who you are does to you? Or what…" she faltered for only a moment, and then pulled him down a bit, close enough that she could bring his forehead to rest against her own, "or what it's cost you?"
Killian opened his mouth to argue once more. Emma could see the warnings and doubts even before he began. She watched wild urging, heady and compelling, war across his features with the sense he was trying to exert. Then she saw logic lose the battle to feeling, and with a rumbling growl of frustration he surged forth the last few inches separating them, and meshed his lips with hers once more. He tried to hold himself back, Emma could sense it, but soon those large, burning warm hands were tracing all over her body, down her back, across her waist, back up her arms, as if mapping her to memory with his hungry touch.
In the second before Emma closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensation, she mused –and probably without nearly as much trepidation as she ought to have held – that the wolf within him seemed to have gone free.
When they finally broke apart from their second kiss and moved off down the street, back toward the station to rejoin Graham, figure out how to prepare for Regina resurfacing and how to keep everyone safe, they did it joined in purpose, as a single unit and with new resolve to face the challenge together as a team.
They didn't notice – were too far down the street with their back already turned – to see the silent cloud of purple magical smoke materialize just before Gold's shop, its front door open, a stately hooded figure in long, deep colored robe swiftly enter.
Rumplestiltskin had lingered in his dimly-lit and treasure-stuffed shop long after the interlopers had gone back out onto the street and to their own little lives. He knew that once they were free of his debt all of their focus would return to seeking out Regina and Cora, safeguarding the town and young Master Mills, everything that was to be expected of a gaggle of self-styled heroes and role models. He had no time nor interest in such things. There was himself, his goals, and the very few people he cared about – as long as others stayed out of his way, he had very little concern for their affairs or well-being at all.
He had been overcome with relief and a warmth he had deemed long vanished at seeing Belle again; however, while he felt as close to love for her as he could manage for anyone, he could not allow her presence to derail him from his meticulous plans to find Bae in this world, finally near fruition, nor could he have her stopping him from finally seeing his oldest foe brought down; he would see his plots fulfilled by whatever means necessary, and Belle would not appreciate some methods he might take if he had to. As forgiving as she had always been of his foibles, his weakness for power, and the inherent cowardice his Darkness preyed upon, she would not condone his intent to see Killian Jones – the man who had stolen his wife away with his good looks, his silvered tongue, and his dashing life of adventure – at last pay the price for his theft. Deep down, the sinister man knew that many would already think the Captain had long since paid for his wrongs in suffering: the breaking of his heart with Milah's death, the maiming of his hand, and the darkening of his once-young and hopeful soul, had more than returned the once humble spinner's injury. Yet, Rumplestiltskin would not see it so – no one took what was his and lived to tell the tale. Jones might have the strength and regenerative abilities of his wolf nature, but that posed only a minor hindrance for one of his powers. He would see his werewolf enemy vanquished once and for all.
In light of this determination, after speaking with Belle briefly, embracing her gladly after so long apart, Gold had importuned her (and she had accepted) to go on to his home, had directed her to the place- to change into better clothes than the shabby gown and jacket she had worn in the hospital, to help herself to any food which she found appealing, and then assured her that he would follow shortly once he had finished just a few small tasks at the shop. He listened carefully, hearing Belle move to the back room, humming as she selected a few books from his stock there and then smiled knowingly as he heard the back door close with her exit.
The Dark One waited a minute, and then two, making certain that Belle was truly gone and wouldn't be coming back. Then a knowing smile and the impish voice of the Enchanted Forest version of the monster came over him. "Come on out, Dearie," he coaxed silkily, "I know you're there."
With that, another purple cloud of smoke poofed visibly near the shop's entrance and Cora herself appeared before him. "Rumplestiltskin, as I live and breathe," Cora stated, simpering noxiously at his simple store and the seemingly simple man the Dark One was posing as. "Is this truly where you've been keeping yourself? I wouldn't have even known you."
He snarled at her clearly mocking tone. She was still darkly beautiful, just she had always been, even back when he loved her once in their old land, but she was also devious and hungry for power - for her own advancement, her daughter's - and he knew that now; he'd learned it the hard way long ago.
"I'd merely have though the Dark One would have someplace more grand than this in the new land," she continued, not willing to let her nettling go.
"Perhaps," he countered. "Or perhaps I know what I really want, and am willing to wait with some patience."
"That's never been my strong suit," the witch countered saucily.
"Yes, I know," he tipped his head in acknowledgement. "With that in mind, let's cut to the chase. Tell me what I can do for you...so you can be on your way." His smile was sharp as he drawed long, thin fingers on the glass countertop and kept his eyes fixed on his first pupil.
"Oh no, Rumple dear, it's what I can do for you," she purred. "You see my daughter wants her boy back, and this sheriff's deputy Emma Swan stands in her way. I see that she's been a thorn in your side as well, and I also know that she's joined up with another long-standing enemy of yours. He came here with me, but that doesn't mean we're still on the same side…" she paused with a leading look, pursing her lips as she studied him. "I think we can help each other."
"I'm listening," the pawnshop broker murmured, willing to hear her out, if not necessarily to trust her. "Regina and I have a plan. Something will happen to some innocent townsperson, which will look as though it's been caused by a flare-up, a misuse of magic - as if perhaps the Savior has lost control. Henry won't be seen as safe with her. If she should be accused, certainly you could help or you could prove who really did it, but if you don't… If you work with us, we can find a way to implicate the wolf as well. Yes, I know what he is. His pretty face hides much, but not that."
"Indeed it does, and it's gotten him by for far too long," Rumpelstiltskin agreed darkly. Now looking more open to her plot, he added, "Continue."
"That's really all there is to it, unless you can add something to the mix."
There was a delightedly evil glimmer in Rumplestiltskin's eye as he mulled it over. "We shall see, we shall see."
Soon the two former enemies were striking hands, partners once more as they had been long ago. Emma, Killian, and the rest of the heroes had no idea what awaited them, with their two worst foes joining forces. The only one with a clue stood with bated breath in the back room of the shop. Belle hadn't left after all, having forgotten one of the books she'd wanted to take, and slipping back in soundlessly to grab it. She held her breath, frozen, and still hoping against hope he would not realize that she was still there. The others needed to be warned; they had to be. Tears poured down her face as she waited; listening, watching, and hoping against hope that she had heard wrong. But it seemed that this beast she had given chance after chance was still the monster he had always been, no matter how much she had hoped that things could be different. When she was finally certain not to be detected, she turned and slipped from the back door once again, unseen and in the hopes she could get to the rest of them in time.