Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time which is a show on ABC where could we just stop messing with Belle? Could we? Anyway, thank you so much for your reads and reviews and favorites. Hi, new followers. I really appreciate you all and I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to you and it's been a while, I was updating one of my other fics. I hope to get back to you soon. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!


Present

Gold awoke alone. He put on his robe and went out to find Belle where he had left her last night, among her books with one sticking out in particular. The Sherlock Holmes story. The Sherlock Christmas special again played out on the giant screen. Beatrice laid with her head on Belle's chest as she perused the room service menu.

"Belle, please tell me you haven't been up all night."

"I fell asleep between one and three."

"Then she woke me up," Beatrice moaned. "Does anybody want caviar in puff pastry? Does that seem like a good breakfast? It's seventy-five pounds so it must be good, right?"

"It's the ballroom scene," Belle announced.

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Doctor John Watson and Mrs. Watson," the servant announced.

"Why Mr. Holmes, this is a treat," said the woman playing Belle.

"Do you know she played Empress of the Racnoss?," asked Beatrice.

"Quiet."

"More like a surprise," Robert Carlyle said, glaring at Benedict Cumberbatch. "I didn't realize Mr. Holmes was on the guest list."

"I invited him, Papa," offered Lady Sybil now Beatrice.

Robert Carlyle turned to his onscreen daughter. "And why would you have done a thing like that?"

Beatrice snorted. She caught her father's glare.

"Sorry, he's just got you down so well," said Beatrice.

"He has not," Gold protested. He looked at the time. "Come on. We've got to get ready for the day."


1914

Joseph didn't sleep much the night after he began instructing Doyle. Instead, he took over the breakfast room, combing through articles on London's underworld, putting them on the wall.

"What are you doing?"

Joseph turned to see Louise.

"Facilier. I've put together all the reports Somerset was able to give me and I've cross-referenced that with anything unusual having to do with news of London's lower classes."

"London's lower classes?," Louise asked, edging towards the display.

"Yes, it seems there's been some strokes of luck for the residents of Cheapside. A ship that's managed to come in, an inheritance..."

"That could all happen."

"A child spared from the ravages of polio. All in the same few blocks around Facilier's shop." Joseph looked at Louise. "Unless you believe in coincidence."

"The universe is rarely so careless," she shot back.

He nodded in approval.

"I'll bite," said Louise. "The question is, once we find Facilier, how do we catch him?"


Present

Belle followed Gold into their bedroom and shut the door behind them. He looked over at her.

"Do you think you need me to help with John?"

"What do you mean?"

"I think you're right, I think there's something more going on with this new Sherlock Holmes story."

"Belle-"

"I don't think he's dead."

Gold tilted his head at her. "Sweetheart, I saw him fall off a cliff."

She shook her head back. "I know it's a long shot, but, he hasn't felt dead in days."

"How can you feel dead?"

"I don't know. It's just a feeling I have and of course, I don't want to share it with Beatrice and give her false hope, but I think we're missing something important."

"And what do you intend to do about it?"

"There's got to be an archive or something where I can learn more about the book." She stepped forward to hug him. "You can take care of Beatrice, can't you?"

"Of course, but be careful."

"It's just a library, Rumple."


1914

The door to the terrace house opened.

Joseph smiled, Jenna and Louise beside him. "Hello."

"Hello," said the haggard looking woman there.

"Mrs. Tyler?"

"Who's asking?"

"I'm Christopher Tietjens, Ministry of Health."

"What?"

"We heard about the recovery your son recently had. Might we come in?"

She allowed them passage into the house.

"These are my assistants, Elsa and Anna."

Jenna shook her head. "Not even close. Besides, how on the nose would that be?"

Mrs. Tyler frowned. "What's this all about?"

"We were only hoping to see little Percy to gather information about his miraculous recovery."

Suddenly a boy went running through and up the stairs.

Joseph looked back to the woman. "Was that Percy?"

"Uh, yes."

Joseph narrowed the distance. "Well, that seems odd."

Louise joined him. "Even if he had recovered from polio, I don't think he'd quite be up to running around the house yet."

"So that leaves us to suspect that his recovery was of an entirely different nature," said Joseph. "Or was completely unnatural."

Mrs. Tyler shook her head. "No, I-"

"Parents will do anything for their children," said Joseph. "Kill, send them through an enchanted wardrobe, take on a curse that will darken their soul-"

"What?," said Mrs. Tyler.

"We won't tell anyone. I just want to know how you contacted him."

"Baron Samedi?," she asked.

"Is that what he's calling himself?," asked Jenna.

"And how did you contact him?"

"There's a tea shop, you go in and light the purple candle and he just... appeared. Please. I don't know anything else, Mr.-"

"Tietjens," said Joseph. He looked at Louise. "Where did you get that anyway?"

"It's the guy Benedict Cumberbatch played in Parade's End."

"Oh, good," drolled Joseph.

"I could have said Khan."

Joseph looked at the woman. "I need the address of the tea shop."


Present

"Mom's going to the British Library?"

"Yes," said Gold.

Beatrice turned to her father. "Do you know how many books there are there?"

"No."

"They have a copy of every book that's been published in the United Kingdom since 1620."

"1620?"

"Yeah. I mean, do you ever want to see Mom again?"

"Well, I'm confident her love for you will be enough to bring her back."

They watched as the man who would be John entered the clinic. Beatrice stepped forward.

"I'll come with you."

Beatrice turned. "I can do this myself."

"I just want to help."

"The real John is scared of you," said Beatrice. "Any rational person would be scared of all of you."

"Excuse me," said Regina.

"Yes, I for one haven't hurt anyone," said Cruella. "In a very long time."

"See, statements like that are what I'm talking about," said Beatrice.

"Alright, Pamela, you go," said Merlin.

"No," said Beatrice. "I am nineteen. I can walk into an office by myself."

"That's not what this is about-" said Merlin.

"Really?"

Beatrice marched off to the office alone.

"We'll go around the back," said Merlin.


1914

Joseph sat in the tea shop. Facilier entered and scowled at him.

"And what is it you want?," he asked.

Joseph frowned. "Isn't that obvious? I wish to make a deal. Now, I don't know if I need to speak with the Author or you..."

Facilier tapped his long fingers against his sleeve. "What kind of a deal?"

"I want the story that was set out for me. I want to be Sherlock Holmes. No Dark Princess, no magic, no nonsense."

Facilier eyed him. "You would really betray your True Love?"

"Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side," said Joseph. "And I have no intention of losing."

Facilier approached. "You would betray True Love?"

"Never let your heart rule your head. Come now. All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage."

"Well, let's see about that..."

Facilier reached his hand into Joseph's chest and went flying back into the wall, knocking down the assorted bottles and statuettes. Jenna and Louise rushed in.

"You wrinkled my shirt," Joseph lamented, smoothing it out. He walked over and stood over Facilier.

"What happened?," asked Jenna.

"Facilier tried to remove my heart," he said, looking at the man as he laid on the ground, "only to find that Rumplestiltskin himself had already put in a safeguard against that. I can't get rid of my heart even if I wanted to. Undoubtedly he had his ulterior motives, but given that I found myself in a town full of witches who liked ripping out hearts, it seemed a sensible precaution. Who was I to refuse? Let's take him to Somerset."


Present

Regina took the side entrance when she came face to face with Moriarty.

"Your Majesty."

She raised her hand, conjuring a fireball.

"I wouldn't act so rashly," said Moriarty. "I want to offer you a deal."

Regina scoffed. "A deal."

"Don't worry. The others can't hear us."

"Why would I make a deal with you?"

"Not with me, with the Author. Your happy ending. That's what you really want, isn't it?"

Regina snuffed out the fireball.

"What is it?"

"Well, I don't quite know yet, it all depends on where the Dark Princess leads... it's all a trade. As long as she doesn't get her happy ending, you're welcome to the Prince of Thieves."

"Regina, darling!"

Regina looked back and in a split second he was gone.

Cruella appeared. "What were you doing?"

"Mind your own business," Regina snarled.


1914

"Mr. Holmes," said Somerset, walking into the entry way of his vault. He looked at Facilier. "It seems you've managed to deliver on your promise. Well done."

"You," Facilier sneered at Somerset.

"So we meet again," said Somerset.

"And again and again in an endless circle," said Facilier.

"We'll see about that," said Somerset.

He nodded at some soldiers who took away Facilier.

"Do you have a way to keep him from using magic?," asked Jenna.

Somerset looked to her. "It's not our first go, Miss Holmes. We quite know what to do."

Jenna nodded.

Somerset looked at Joseph. "How goes your novel?"

"It's a work in progress," said Louise. She motioned at Joseph. "Someone doesn't quite like the way Sir Arthur writes."

"He lacks any emotional investment."

"It's a mystery novel, I thought," said Somerset. "Not a love letter."

"The exact tone of the piece remains to be seen," said Joseph.

"Well," said Somerset, "I was never much for love letters myself."

"Is that so?" Joseph rolled his eyes.

"Actions always spoke louder than words for me."


Present

Beatrice ignored the reception area and snuck down to where the offices were, finding a room labelled "Mr. J. Watson." She knocked.

"Come in," said John.

Beatrice went inside and nothing was as she expected it.

Moriarty was there standing next to a haggard man sitting behind the desk in the clothes she had just seen John wearing.

"Hello, Beatrice," said Moriarty. "This is my friend, Albert. He's been playing the part of John for us. You see, one of your favorite things, he was homeless and alone like your troll friends. So you can't really blame him for what he's done, now can you?"

Moriarty pointed a gun at Albert's head.

"Don't you dare," said Beatrice.

"I will. That is unless you put this on and come have a chat with me like the old friends we are."

He motioned at a jar on the desk. Beatrice picked it up.

"Okay, where is everyone getting squid ink?"

Moriarty looked at her meaningfully as he pushed the gun against Albert's temple. The man looked at her, silently wishing for help.

"Fine," said Beatrice.

She poured the liquid on her hands and immediately felt the loss of magic.

Then vanished.


Belle was taken aback by the British Library. There was a glorious reading room, every place she turned had something to look at including the Magna Carta. If they had apartments, she probably would have bought one, content with the idea of spending the rest of her life here.

She had come for a reason, though and that reason had everything to do with finding out what she could about The Adventure of the Golden Pendant. She went to the computer and quickly located a volume of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's letters that were written around the time of the work on the novel.

The librarian took Belle to a closed reading room and had her sit. She waited until someone brought the book and instructed her to use the buzzer when she finished.

She turned to the summer of 1914, flipping back to before World War I began. She was curious at Doyle mentioning he had some unwanted houseguests that he was unable to shake off. His wife and children had gone to their estate in the countryside to avoid them. He then began discussing how he was finding it difficult to write his latest Professor Challenger novel because someone was demanding a Sherlock Holmes story.

"Hello, Belle."

Belle jolted in her chair to see Facilier standing near the door.

"Enjoying the library?"

"What are you doing here?"

Facilier shrugged. "The Author asked me to come have a chat."

He edged closer and Belle pushed her chair back.

"What could the Author possibly think we have to talk about?"

Facilier shrugged. "He doesn't much like you."

She scoffed. "That's too bad."

"Too bad for you perhaps..."

Facilier lunged for her and she fought him off with a well-placed amateur kick to his shins. Belle scrambled out the door.

Belle ran through the underbelly of the British Library, scrambling to remember where she had come down from. It was all a maze of glass cubes holding old books and not a person in sight.

Except when she rounded the corner to find Facilier again.

"There's really no escaping, Belle."

Then suddenly Facilier dropped forward writhing in pain. The reason was a taser being held by a redhead in a blue skirt suit.

She looked up at Belle.

"Who's he?"

Not having time to come up with a plausible story she said, "Doctor Facilier."

"Oh, right," she said looking down at him as if that made sense. "A colleague of mine has been looking for him..."

"Sorry, who are you?"

"Oh, sorry, we haven't actually met, but we spoke briefly on the phone. Nellie Gillette."

"Joseph's aunt?," Belle asked uncertainly. The two women had spoken briefly after his death, lamenting the loss and making arrangements to ship his things back to London.

"Yeah, seems strange to meet you like this, doesn't it?"

"What are you doing here?"

"You checked out the book on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, it set off an alert, my office checks who, sees it was a woman called Belle Gold and I come down here."

Belle was still bewildered as a tall, skinny man joined Nellie.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes, luckily, seeing as you took your time," said Nellie.

"I had to park the car," he said. He looked down at Facilier. "Who's that?"

"Oh, that's Facilier."

"Oh, right."

"Yeah. This is Belle. Belle, this is my husband, Hector."

"Hello," said Belle.

"Right. Beatrice's mother."

Suddenly, a squad of men in black arrived.

"Stand down!," Nellie called. "I've already done everything! Take him back to holding."

Belle shook her head. "Okay. What is happening?"

The men went to work on hauling Facilier away. Nellie and Hector approached.

"Well, I'm Nellie, this is Hector-"

"But Joseph said his family didn't know anything about him being Sherlock Holmes. He said you sent him to psychiatrists and-"

"Well..." said Nellie. "That's partially true. We did know he was Sherlock Holmes and we did send him to psychiatrists but that was more about him not being able to reveal himself to the Author. Then it was about his dominance issues."

"Don't forget the drugs," said Hector.

Nellie shook her head. "Just misplaced energy, really. We work for a special department of the British government that deals with stories that turn out to be real, magic. Your father knows all about it."

Belle frowned. "Sorry, are there two?"

"What do you mean two?," asked Hector.

"There was a Mr. Jeeves at the airport who welcomed us. Father seemed to know him."

This seemed to anger them.

"I swear to God..." said Nellie, shaking her head.

"Not again."

"That idiot Wilberforce has done it again! He is, without a doubt, the most incompetent man to ever grace the bureaucracy of the British government!"

"Wait a moment," said Hector, turning to Belle. "What are you doing in London?"

"We came to help John."

Nellie shook her head. "What's wrong with John?"

"Moriarty said he'd kidnapped him but now we think someone's controlling him."

Nellie and Hector looked at each other.

"I told you!," said Hector.


"Beatrice!," Gold called.

They arrived in the office. The homeless man cowered.

"Where is she?," Gold demanded.

"I don't know, Moriarty took her-" Albert stammered. "They just disappeared-"

"Great," said Regina. "How does that help us?"

Gold disappeared into garnet smoke without comment. The homeless man gasped.

"I hate when he does that," said Merlin. His phone rang. He looked at it.

"What?," asked Pamela.

"It's Belle." He picked it up. "Yes, sweetheart, can this wait?"


Beatrice soon found herself at a large house, devoid of furniture but for the place where John was tied to a chair. Two men came out of nowhere and grabbed her, not that she could do anything without her powers.

"Why?," sneered Moriarty. "Why do you keep picking heroism?"

The other men slammed her in the chair next to John.

"Hi, Beatrice."

"Hey."

"So, visiting?"

"Shut up!" Moriarty pointed his gun at John.

"Hey!," said Beatrice. "You wanted to talk to me, remember?"

Moriarty got in her face.

"I wanted to talk sense into you. You keep deciding to be a hero. Just give it up already! You're the Dark Princess! Dark is in the title! You were born at the Dark Castle to the Dark One! Take a hint!"

"The Dark Castle?," John whispered.

Beatrice shrugged. "My dad had a castle."

"Yeah, okay, I guess that makes sense."

"You shouldn't have been fighting the Wicked Witch, you should have been teaming up with her! You should have jumped at the opportunity to help Peter Pan!"

"They were crazy."

Moriarty turned back. "They were like you. They were villains. There's Team Hero and Team Villain and they are never going to accept you on Team Villain so why don't you just accept that?"

"I don't accept that."

Moriarty pointed the gun at John. John winced.

"What if I shoot him if you don't help me?"

"Is that a hypothetical?"

John took a deep breath. "Beatrice, really..."

"Because if I'm working under duress to save John's life, I'm pretty sure that I'm not the bad guy. If I kill you to save him, I'm still pretty sure I'm not the bad guy."

"Beatrice!," John hissed.

"He's not going to kill you, John. You've been held hostage all week. If he wanted you dead, you would be dead."

"I don't know that I find that reassuring."

"Can't kill you, can't kill me. So, why are you wasting my time?"

Moriarty turned to the men. "Where's Facilier? He ought to have been here by now."

"We haven't heard from him," said the uglier of the two.

"Find him!," shouted Moriarty.

The men scrambled off.

"Temper, temper, dearie."

Moriarty turned to face Gold, spinning to point the gun at him.

"How did you get here?"

"You really think I would send my beloved daughter anywhere unprotected?" Gold chuckled. "Really? Do you think a gun is going to kill me?"

"Won't it?," John whispered.

"No," Beatrice whispered back.

"Stop wasting my time," sneered Gold. A wave of his hand knocked the weapon away. "You used my daughter. You tried to kill my wife. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you."

"Um, just over here, we still don't know anything about the Author," said Beatrice.

"The Author?," asked John.

"There's this whole thing having to do with the free will of fairy tale characters."

"Well, that would help Regina, but I really don't see the point."

"Dad, really," sighed Beatrice.

"Hands up!," someone shouted.

They turned as they were suddenly surrounded by men with guns in black. Out of their crowd, Nellie emerged easily striding through the armed men.

"Aunt Nellie?!," John exclaimed.

"John, sweetie," said Nellie, coming to untie them. "How are you?"

"How am I?" He wanted to rage at her casual kiss on the cheek. "I've been held hostage a week!"

"Nobody likes to hear a complainer." She looked at Beatrice. "Oh, you must be Beatrice. You are lovely."

"Thanks," said Beatrice, free of the ropes.

She stood and went to Gold's waiting arms. The other men were hauling Moriarty away.

"Don't do that," hissed Gold as he hugged her.

Out by the front entrance to the building, Merlin and Belle walked in as Moriarty was being dragged away.

Merlin eyed Moriarty. "You go on, sweetheart."

Belle looked skeptically at Moriarty. "Are you sure?"

He smiled. "I'll be right along, sweetheart."

Belle nodded and moved further back to find her husband and daughter.

"I need you to relay a message to the Author."

Moriarty smiled. "What makes you think I'll be seeing him?"

"You'll be seeing him before I do."

Moriarty rolled his eyes. "And what is this message?"

"He's wrong."

"Is he?"

"There is a moment when a parent first lays eyes on a child and it is pure untempered magic. Hearts reach out to touch one another and they never let go. Now..." He glanced to see that Belle was hugging Beatrice as Gold held her. "He thinks that the dark must have corrupted the light, but it's the other way around. Light has corrupted dark."

"So say the fairy tales."

"Yes, as it turns out, sometimes those are real," said Merlin.


1914

Jenna entered the parlor to find Joseph alone.

"Couldn't sleep?," she suggested.

"I've been banned from the writers' room," said Joseph. "It seemed some of my ideas were too extreme."

"Yeah, I can see that," said Jenna. "Well, good night-"

"What did I do to you?"

She stopped and turned. "What? You haven't done anything to me, we barely know each other-"

"No. I don't know you, but you know me. What have I done to you?"

"You haven't done anything-"

"You won't even say your name."

"You can't know my name," she attempted to correct.

"Yes, but you're angry about your name. Who is angry about their own name?"

She shook her head. "That."

"What?"

"That. Thinking you know everything."

"I wouldn't say that I know everything, I would say that I can deduce anything."

"Exactly like that," she sneered.

"Oh, I see. If you want an idiot for a father, you ought to try the Charmings."

"It's not that-"

"Then what is it?"

"I don't want a destiny! I want to be a normal person with a normal life!"

He rolled his eyes. "Normal is so overrated."

She shrugged. "And that's just it. You've never understood."

Jenna stormed out.

Joseph was so not looking forward to her teenage years.


Present

John sat with Beatrice outside the house as the various authorities settled things.

"So, in addition to everyone you know being a fairy tale character-"

"Almost everyone," said Beatrice.

"Almost everyone," said John. "My aunt and uncle are part of some secret government ministry that helps fairy tale characters and regulates magic?"

"Yeah."

He turned. "Do you remember when I called you?"

Beatrice met his eyes.

"It's just, you sounded as if you didn't remember Joseph."

"I didn't," Beatrice admitted. John looked at her curiously. "I didn't know what to do anymore. I wanted to forget so I cast a spell over the town erasing all memory of him."

"Well," said John, "you're here now. I guess it didn't work."

"It crashed and burned pretty bad, yeah."

John nodded. "Look, I obviously don't know what it's like to have magical powers, but I have lost my father, my mother, now Joseph... I can understand wanting to forget."

Beatrice shook her head. "I still don't know what to do. I... I was using finding you as my next thing because I don't have a next thing. I am totally out of things."

"You'll find a thing," John promised.

"But it won't be the thing I want." She shook her head. "I'm pathetic."

"No, you're not."

"I had to drop out of school. I'm a nineteen year old with a nanny. My parents still come running if I look slightly upset. I should be in college or saving my land from ogres."

"Ogres?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry," said Nellie. "You mean you don't know?"

Beatrice looked up at the woman. "I don't know what?"

"I just assumed when your mother was at the library you were onto it."

"Onto what, Auntie Nellie?," asked John.

"He's not dead."

"Um, what?," asked Beatrice. "Who are we talking about?"

"Joseph."

"What?"

"What are you talking about?," asked John.

"The book and the Christmas special, they were to get your attention."

"Why couldn't you just say something?!," John demanded.

Beatrice shook her head. "No. Moriarty pushed him over a..."

Beatrice turned, running towards the car Moriarty had just been put in. It was driving away. Throwing a hand out, she stopped it in its tracks.

Somerset stepped out of the car.

"You know you people could just ask me to stop!"

Beatrice opened the rear passenger door.

"Oh, Princess, come to see me off? Don't worry, we'll be meeting again soon."

She eyed him. "The waterfall in the Dark Forest. What was it called?"

"I'll never tell," he said in a sing-song voice.

"Tell me!"

"If you want to know, you are going to have to rip my heart out. I want you to turn dark, so dark, so dark nothing can bring you out of it..."

"Well, luckily, I don't mind that, dearie."

Beatrice felt her father shoving her out of the way and reaching into Moriarty's chest, pulling out the glowing if somewhat tarnished heart as Nellie joined them.

"I always wondered what that looked like..." Moriarty mused.

"I'm sorry, that's his heart?," said John.

"Do you know the paperwork I have to do for this?," Nellie demanded.

"Tell her what she asked, dearie," said Gold. He squeezed ever so slightly. Moriarty gasped. "Tell her."

"Reichenbach."

"What?!," shouted Beatrice.

Gold shoved the heart back in. He turned back to Beatrice. He had been around enough after Series Two of Sherlock to know what that word meant.

"Sweetheart?"

Beatrice turned to Nellie. "So, if he's alive, where is he?"

"Excellent question," said Nellie.

"You couldn't just tell us?!," John repeated.

"What's going on?," asked Pamela as she, Regina, Cruella and Belle arrived.

"What's going on?," said Beatrice. "What's going on is hashtag Sherlock lives."

John was still beyond frustrated.

"Why didn't anyone just say something?!"