Chapter Eight.

He hadn't even tried to pull on his magic to take him away. It likely wouldn't have worked. Oh, the emotions were running high enough, certainly, but he just didn't have anything left after everything that had happened that day. He hadn't felt this drained, this low since the days before his curse. Everything hurt. It wasn't a sharp pain, but more of a constant sort of ache from the bruising - visibly hidden by a glamour spell - that had started to form along the bridge of his nose and down one sharp cheekbone. It came from the encounter early that morning in the courtyard while facing off with the man that had wanted to harm Henry and from every blow he'd taken while facing off with his father that evening. None of it was dangerous, he knew, but it provided a physical reminder to his own mortality.

The pain in his chest was worse than any of it though, and that wasn't from any hit he'd taken. Well, not of the physical sort, anyway. His and Bae's conversation earlier that day had given him hope and hope was dangerous. He should have known that. He should have protected himself from it, but there was something about his son that brought down all his usual protections. Hadn't that been what had gotten him into so much trouble when August had come to Storybrooke? His emotions had boiled over and his desperation had taken hold. Just that day he'd taken his son's hand and thought he'd worked through that desperation, but in the end it was only a brief flicker. Nothing that would last.

Rumplestiltskin looked around to find himself standing in his own work tower, the same place he'd found Bae hiding away from everyone earlier that day when they'd had their chat. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd gotten there, but he was there now and he sank down to a stool and tried to pull himself together. The pieces wouldn't come, though, and he couldn't banish the mental image of shattered bits of himself lying uselessly on the floor. Useless to his own purposes, to Belle, to Henry, and even to Baelfire, though in the end he'd always been that. All he'd wanted to do was protect him. That was all he'd ever wanted and he couldn't even find a way to do that without botching it up rather nicely.

He was sinking and he felt the desperation take hold, the roots spreading within him and attaching themselves, sucking the very life from him as they did. He couldn't stop the feeling of being swallowed up, no matter how hard he fought it. There was no way to fight it, not really, and he should have known that by now, but years and years and years of habit is always hard to break and Rumplestiltskin reacted to that terrible feeling as he always had. He was on his feet in an instant, and while he didn't dare reach for his magic at that point, his own two hands worked rather well. He didn't require magic to destroy.

By the time he was done the work table was flipped over, contents spilled out across the stones and books had been flung across the room. The stool he'd been sitting on was in pieces and he was in the center of the chaos, sucking in trembling, shallow breaths and it hadn't helped a bit. He was still spiralling and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Hell, Pop," a voice greeted him and he spun around, dark eyes wide at the intrusion. Bae stood at the top of the stairs, surveying the damage his father had caused. He let out long whistle. "What'd the room do to you?"

He knew that it was meant as a joke, weak though the attempt might have been, but Rumple couldn't bring himself to smile, not even for Bae. He simply stood where he was, as if vines had sprung up and latched onto him and a small part of him somehow managed to remember that he needed to breathe in and out. They stared at each other for a long moment before Baelfire took the fact that nothing had been thrown at him as invitation to enter and he continued up the last few steps. He looked around, grimacing as he did, and finally settled for leaning against the railing when he couldn't find an intact chair or stool.

Rumple was not unaware that he needed to say something. He should have gone straight to his son as soon as everything was over and the wards were fixed, but he'd given in to the Charmings' prattling about how they needed to know this and that and everything in between and he'd finally just told them to shut them up. They could be infuriating sometimes, and the fact that Regina was siding with them on it was disturbing and frightening all at the same time, like the world might simply stop spinning because of it. Even so, he should have gone straight to him, but the truth that he couldn't voice was that he'd been too afraid. He was afraid that Bae's reaction would be exactly as it was.

Bae cleared his throat, dragging his father forcefully back to the present where they stood, and Rumplestiltskin blinked, realizing the younger man was standing in front of him now. "I-" he started, not really sure what was going to follow it, but Baelfire had hold of either wrist and was holding his hands up for inspection. For the first time he realized that he'd managed to scrape and cut them during his tantrum that was meant to be entirely his own and without spectators.

"Yeah you," Bae half growled and Rumplestiltskin shrank back a bit. When he spoke again, his tone reminded his father of the one he'd used in Neverland not too long ago. The one where he spoke of nightmares and the fact that Rumple had never come for him. "When I was a kid, I absolutely idolized you, do you know that? I loved you so much."

He motioned for his father to stay where he was as he went to rifle through the turned over cabinet for something to take care of it. He dug through vials, careful not to let any cracked glass spill their unknown contents in him. They were labeled, of course, but there was no reason he should know what most of them were. "But not anymore," Rumple murmured, not really meaning to.

Bae sighed and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling with the most exasperated look that Rumple had seen him wear since he was ten years old. "Seriously?"

"Bae… I know you don't believe me, but I was just trying to protect you, son."

He stood then, anger flashing through his eyes. "Don't tell me what I do and don't believe."

"I was just-"

"You were just doing what you've always done," Baelfire bit out. "Don't you remember? This! This is what drove us apart. You were always trying to control everything and I was just another pawn to move around-"

"Is that what you think?"

"You never trusted me."

"You were fourteen," Rumplestiltskin snapped back. "You didn't know what was happening. You didn't understand the evil that surrounded us or what people would have done if they'd gotten their hands on you."

"Yeah, not sure you noticed or not, Pop, but I'm not fourteen anymore. The thing with Henry today, yeah, I get - didn't like it, but I get it - but what you did downstairs when people were relying on both of us… What if they'd gotten in? They could have killed my son. They could have hurt Henry and I would have been stuck in some crazy labyrinth that you have in the bottom of your castle!"

"They weren't getting in."

"Yeah, well they weren't getting past the gates, either, were they? You know, you can be one of the most dense people for as smart as you are and it drives me up the wall. I can't wrap my mind around why you thought that was okay earlier. What could have possibly been going through your thought process which would have said 'this is a good idea'?"

"Bae…"

"No!" Bae yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls and it hit his father like a physical blow. "I know that tone. Don't try to sidestep this one. The truth. I need the truth from you. I'm done with this game. What the hell made you think that was a good idea? Just… give me a reason. Something."

All at once images crashed in around Rumplestiltskin and all he could see was his son lying on his back in someone's arms as he slipped away forever.

Baelfire's fate was written since his birth.

It was overwhelming and he wasn't sure when he'd collapsed to the floor. He couldn't breathe with the images and his son's lifeless stare the only thing that his mind could grasp. Bae's name tumbled from his lips again and again and he could feel himself shattering at the thought. He couldn't lose him. He couldn't let him go. Not again. He'd never let him go again. He wouldn't.

"Papa?"

His eyes were shut tightly and he forced them open, banishing the image and forcing his mind to accept that the place he resided in was the present and the man in front of him was his son, alive and whole and… worried? He blinked, his vision clearing and he felt tears escaping down his cheeks. "I couldn't lose you again," he whispered, his voice strained. "Oh, Bae, I'm so sorry, son. I'm selfish. I'm very selfish, you know that. I couldn't let go. Please, don't ask me to. I can't bear it."

"What are you talking about?" Bae asked and he reached forward, one hand on either shoulder and they were both seated on the floor. "Papa, look at me. Hey? Look at me."

Rumple forced himself to obey.

"I'm right here." He waited a moment, but for what his father wasn't sure. Bae offered him a slow smile. "How 'bout you?"

"I'm here," Rumplestiltskin managed and he felt one hand move from his shoulder to the back of his head. His forehead touched Bae's and his son sighed.

"You're going to drive me nuts, you know that?"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop. It's just a fact I'm going to have to live with I guess. I just… Won't you tell me why?"

"Please don't ask me that, son. Not now."

"But you'll tell me?"

Rumple blinked, clearing his vision once more and all the fight had washed out of him. He just wanted to wrap his arms around his son and remember that everything was alright. He was alive. Bae was alive. If the seer - or his visions in the form of the seer - had been right that he'd changed his own destiny, surely he could change the one that was laid out before Bae. He could save his son. He had to find a way. "Yes," he found himself promising. "Someday."

"Let's just not take three hundred years to get there, huh?"

Bae's smile had always been contagious when it was genuine. Rumple felt his own lips tilt up and he nodded. "I have to find a way to sort it and then I'll tell you, Bae. I promise."

"Until then you can't just poof me away just because you're scared, okay?"

"Bae.."

"No. We've got to find some common ground here, Papa. This is what drove me away before, but I don't want to go again. I need you to promise me that you'll try."

"I'll try. I can promise that much."

"Okay." He pulled in a deep breath. "And I'll try to remember the good intentions behind the crazy acts. I… I'm sorry about what I said. Both to Belle and you. I know you love me, Papa. I love you too."

He couldn't gather the breath to speak, so the man that had ripped apart the worlds to find his son just clung to him in that moment, one arm going around his neck and he held on as if their lives depended on it.

Emma Swan had been to a lot of places in her life. She'd moved around constantly, searching for something she wasn't sure she'd ever find. She'd lived on the East Coast, the West Coast, back to the East and then gave the Midwest a try. Seven different cities in ten years.

That's how you know you've really got a home. When you leave it… you just miss it.

Well, Emma hadn't necessarily missed the Enchanted Forest after her first visit. Her experiences had included being tossed into a wardrobe immediate after birth, running from ogres, and fighting crazy witches that wanted to rip hers or her mother's heart out. Really, Cora hadn't seemed to be too particular in that department. Needless to say, her time in the place of her birth hadn't left her with a burning desire to come back.

Then she'd been faced with losing the family she had just found and there had been no place that she'd rather be. When it had happened, Emma couldn't have known, but somewhere between fighting a dragon, breaking a curse, and saving Henry from his crazy great-grandfather - she was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Peter Pan was not only a bad guy, but a really bad guy that they still hadn't seen the last of - her family had become her home, no matter where they were. Neal had been right. She'd found home and she knew it.

Speak of the devil. Emma gave her former lover a wave as he made his way down the hall. Gold was with him and they both looked more than half asleep on their feet. She'd been leaning against her bedroom door, but she straightened now, meeting him after his father had peeled off to his room but before Neal could slip into his own. "Hey, you okay? Belle was super vague on where you were earlier."

Neal ran a hand through his grey-flecked hair and stifled a yawn. "Yeah, my dad had one of his freak out moments. I ended up wandering around a bunch of back halls in the castle trying to find my way out."

"What? He just... Poofed you down there?"

"Yeah, it's a bad habit of his," he answered tiredly and it sounded like it was an old argument. "We're working on it."

Neal hadn't been interested in diving into his past when Emma had first met him. He'd spoken in fits and starts - usually after quite a bit of alcohol to encourage the honesty - about a father that had once been his hero before everything had turned bad. Emma had had her own theories at the time that had ranged from a use to neglect and finally she'd landed on abandonment after one particular conversation. She couldn't have possibly guessed the specifics though.

"So are you two...?"

Neal leaned against the wall, dark eyes flickering towards the door his dad had disappeared behind. "We're working on it."

Nice and vague, just like his dad. Who knew they had so much on common?

"What about you?" Neal asked with that grin that she knew so well. It was the one that he used whenever he wanted to change the subject and leave her no choice to swivel back around to it. "How's life as a warrior princess?"

Emma snorted out a laugh. "Not sure I'm quite there yet. On either front."

"I don't know. Pop may not have let me out, but I got to watch at least some of the battle. You're not half bad with a sword." The grin broadened. "Though I guess I can't be too shocked, with your dad being who he is and all."

"If we go by that sort of logic you'll be a master at magic in no time, right?" As soon as the words had left her mouth she wasn't sure they should have. The smile had faded and was replaced with a funny sort of look that even she didn't recognize entirely. "I was kidding, Neal."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. Think I fell asleep standing here. No coffee in this world. Surprisingly, one of the few things I'm starting to miss."

"Did you ever think you'd come back?"

"No, but life's full of surprises. I never thought I'd see you again, either."

Emma blinked at him and she couldn't tell if it was her own exhaustion or what might be causing the tightness that spread in her chest, but it was there and she couldn't quite break eye-contact with him. David had been so sure that she owed herself a chance to find out how she felt about this man, and, per the usual, their crazy lives had gotten in the way. She had loved him once. She'd loved him enough to think that maybe, just maybe, he could be her home.

But then he'd shattered that dream because he seemed to think listening to Pinocchio had been a good life choice.

"Yeah, guess I never thought I'd see you again either," she murmured when she realized that a response was likely expected, no matter the late hour. "Listen, I was about to head in…"

"It's getting late," he agreed, but didn't make a move to leave.

"You might want to duck in and tell Henry goodnight. He was really worried about you earlier."

That seemed to jar him out of his dazed sort of expression and he looked to the door between his own and Emma's where their son was - hopefully - sleeping. Emma hadn't particular seen Neal as father-material, but it wasn't like she'd been mother-material before Henry re-appeared in her life. Pan had said he had the Heart of the Truest Believer and Emma believed it. Henry had believed in her when no one else did, when she couldn't even believe in herself. He'd instantly taken to Neal the same way, and if he were better or not before Henry had fallen into his life, she was sure that the kid had something to do with it now.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Neal's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Yeah, in the morning," she agreed and watched as he turned, slipping into their son's room. All of her self preservation screamed at her to stay the hell away from him, from every old wound that could reopen if she got too close, but the smile he flashed her as he said goodnight put a good dent in those walls. It didn't take them down, not even close, but it shook them enough for her to notice.

Pan hadn't been overly surprised when Zelena had taken off on him in the middle of their battle. She may have had high hopes for it, but he hadn't been there to deliver a final blow. Certainly not. That would end the game too quickly. He'd gone into it with a much different goal in mind.

Rumple's castle had been a well of untapped power. It had simply sat there, gathering it to itself while the majority of the Enchanted Forest was off playing house in Storybrooke. Once its master had returned it had reawakened and Pan had been able to pull enough into himself to give him his ability to fly back. That had been his real goal, but the so-called Wicked Witch didn't need to know that. In fact, she didn't need to know much at all as far as Pan was concerned. Oh, she'd figure a few things out for herself over time, but only what he let her. He'd known when she'd placed the small bit of tracing spell on him when he'd invited himself through the wards fueled by blood magic. He'd pretended not to notice to make her feel clever. Adults always needed to feel so very clever after all.

That's why Peter Pan could wear a smile as he landed lightly on railing of the balcony. Zelena was watching him as he did so, laid out on a fainting couch in the room she'd stolen from her younger sister. How petty. This only fueled Pan's amusement as he held himself there, squatted down so that his knees nearly touched his shoulders. Anyone else would have topped forward to fall on their face or back to their death below, but he remained perfectly balanced by his own magic that he was pulling from the land itself. "That archer has quite an aim, doesn't he?" he asked cheerfully and received a scowl for his efforts.

"Your chipper for a boy that was tossed halfway across the lands."

"Oh, I knew exactly what Rumple was doing. He thinks he was being clever in it, but it's an old trick."

"I'm not sure that's true," Zelena answered, her nose pointed in the air. Someone really should tell that woman that she wasn't very pretty when she looked like she was about to fall to the ground and start beating her fists against the floor like a toddler. Though Pan supposed he wasn't one to judge about acting one's age.

The witch moved slowly, standing and stalking towards him. "Just what are you, anyway?"

"That's a very rude question."

"You must be using an absorbent amount of energy to keep up that facade."

"Oh? So you've discovered my little secret. I do hope you won't tell." He burst out laughing with the way she blinked owlishly at him. "It takes less than you think. Rumple may have taught you that truly powerful magic takes planning and thought, but that's only because he's always had a bit of a failure of imagination."

He didn't miss the flash in her eyes, something protective behind the hurt. "I've known him for some time and he's always been creative."

"That's only because you've never had anyone to compare him to." He stood then, walking down the railing without tilting one way or the other.

"You're his father."

"Give the girl a prize," Pan answered flippantly and continued his balancing act.

"He hates you."

This stopped him and his blue eyes flickered back to her, though he refused to turn and give her his full, face-on attention. "Hate's a strong word, lass. Rumple and I have… quite a troubled past, I assure you, but hate is a word you don't come back from."

"I need him alive for my purposes."

"Who says I'm planning to kill him?"

She studied him for a moment. "So what do you want, and don't turn it around on me this time. I know what I want."

"Of course you do," the boy said smoothly. "I'm just a bit bored, you see. Looking for the next big game. Rumple's turned into quite the opponent, but he's not always… willing, you see. Tell me, is it his mind you're after?"

"His… what?" she feigned ignorance, but Pan was suddenly dangling a parchment in front of her and her eyes grew wide and her expression agnry. "You little thief! Give that back!"

He burst out giggling at this, rocking to the side and laying out so that he was floating in the air on his back. He tossed the little scroll at her and she snatched it up immediately. "A resilient heart, steadfast courage, a brilliant mind, and unmatched purity. Quite a list you have going there. What's the spell?"

"Don't you know?"

Pan shrugged. "I never had an interest in learning any written spells. Why should I? My power supplies more than enough. Yours too, I'd think, so what's so very important to you?"

"Nothing that you need concern yourself with." She turned on her heel and began to stalk away.

"See, and I was going to offer you a bit of advice. You're going after the wrong mind."

That stopped her, though she didn't turn around. "What do you mean? You of all people should know how clever Rumple is."

"Clever, yes, but you're thinking small. You could have three of these ingredients in one person, should you want it, and with a bit of help that could prove more powerful than you'd even thought to dream of."

"No one man or woman could cover all that."

"You're right. Adults are too limited, but I know a boy that will outshine all your expectations."

Snow White chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully as she surveyed the scene. It had been Ruby that had come to get her that morning and it was Ruby she now stood with, neither knowing quite what to make of it all. When she'd finally gone up to bed the night before Tink, Astrid, and Grumpy had been taking turns helping those that had been injured in the battle. The injuries had varied, the more severe ones being taken care of immediately by the two fairies to the best of their ability. Some had been hit with bursts of magic from either Pan or Zelena as they fought, some with flying debris that the magical battles had brought down from the already iffy structures that had once been very nice in the gardens, and the rest from the flying monkeys that Zelena had unleashed on them.

Grumpy had already been relieved of his watch duty by the time Ruby came in, and she had been there to give Astrid a few hours' rest. She and Tink had stepped out of the Great Hall for just a few moments to discuss what was happening and not bother those still resting after their injuries when there'd been a loud crashing sound and a scream. They'd flung the door open to see three flying monkeys that had somehow gotten into the room. They didn't have time to capture them before they'd crashed through the window and escaped into the sky.

Now the raven haired princess took in the destruction left behind. Those that could rouse themselves were awake and many others were left in a sleep that Tink and Astrid's fairy dust had left them in to help them heal. Hook, his already damaged arm in a sling, started toward them and Snow nodded carefully as he approached.

"Regina did say that those monkeys in the village had been people, didn't she?" Tink was saying, and Ruby nodded in agreement.

"It's possible that it spreads by bite."

Like a werewolf, Snow thought, and her friend might be right. "If that's the case we need to get those that were bitten into another room and start on an antidote immediately."

"Do you think Gold can come up with one?"

"Maybe. We'll have to try."

"Excuse me, love," Hook said and Snow bristled at the pet name that he used for pretty much any woman that he spoke to. "Most of the people in here were either bitten or scratched by one of those creatures, myself included. Unless the Dark One has a room meant to hold them, they're just going to fly out the window like those did."

Snow spun on him immediately, green eyes studying. "That's a monkey bite? How are you feeling? Any different?"

"He wouldn't, if it's anything like a werewolf bite," Ruby offered. "I didn't even know I was changing for years. My guess is these guys don't have a clue until it's too late."

From across the room one of the injured men from Robin Hood's band started moaning and as the three women and the pirate approached carefully, they could see the man that had been nicknamed Little John convulsing on his mat. They were all frozen in shocked horror as he began to transform, the terrible sound of bones rearranging and muscles stretching in inhuman ways making Snow slightly ill. Somehow Ruby's own transformations had never seemed quite that bad.

Little John loosed a terrible scream that should have woken everyone in the castle before his eyes flew open, beady and red. He jumped up, a monkey in the place of a man, his wings unfurling and instead of a scream he screeched terribly and turned his gaze on the humans.

"I don't think he's going to fly away with the others," Hook murmured as he took a step back.

"Now's as good a time as any to see if Rumplestiltskin can change them back," Tinker Bell called out as she dodged a vicious swipe in her direction.

"Can he still hear you when you call? Like before?" Ruby asked.

"I don't know," Snow answered. "But it's worth a try."

TBC

Notes: In the next chapter - People are changing into monkeys, Rumple opens up to Belle, and Henry decides to play matchmaker.