"Oh my god, is she OK? What did that bitch say to her?"

Neal stood beside Apple, as she spoke to her brother on the phone. They were all still gathered at the diner, waiting for word that the others had found Rumplestiltskin. He'd chosen to conveniently place himself between Robin and his fiancé, unconvinced by the man's pretty words to Regina. However, the fact he knew that it was Regina that had condemned Marion to death was startling, and his mind was working furiously to try and work out what it could mean.

However, right now, he was more concerned about Anna. "What's going on?"

Apple covered the mouth piece as Roland continued to talk on the other end, "They found Gold at his house, but Belle was there. Anna heard her say all kinds of stuff, and now," she paused listening to Roland as Neal felt his blood begin to boil. "Now she's resting with Liam."

He offered a nod before leaning against an unoccupied table, the table Apple and Anna should have reunited across. Sometimes life wasn't fair.

"OK, I'll tell him. And don't worry about me, I've got Neal here to protect me," she rolled her eyes, "as if my magic isn't enough. Give me some credit." She paused to listen to him, "Maybe, but I can still kick your butt with it, so call me back and let me know how they're doing. OK, I love you too. Bye Roland, love you."

She clicked off the phone and tucked it into her pocket with a sigh, but he'd picked up on something she'd said and needed answers. "What's wrong with them? You said to tell you how "they" were doing, is it Gold or Liam." Fear embraced his heart, Liam was like a little brother to him, and he'd seen the wariness in his face when he'd entered the diner and seen his parents.

Apple glanced towards his sister and her husband, and he knew it was Liam. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," she said earnestly, holding out her hands, "you know Roland, he's just worried. He made Liam call in a pocket and they're resting. He's going to join them after he talks to Gold, who apparently, has finally seen the light about Belle."

"What about Belle," his mom asked, rising from the booth and handing his baby self off to his father. She returned Apple's heated gaze with a calm one of her own. "I can completely understand why Belle's drinking is unforgivable to you, both of you," she indicated the two of them. "But Gold has a way of doing things he regrets later, and you don't know the whole story between them—"

"Oh I think we do," Apple began, but he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from going further.

"It's complicated mom, but trust me, we know most of it."

His mother shook her head, and it reminded him so much of better times, when his patient and loving mother would talk with him for hours about his future responsibilities to the kingdom, to his people; a lesson he'd taken to heart and always would. "Maybe, but you can't know everything that happens in a marriage, the ups and downs, and Gold well—"

"Has a propensity for killing his wives." Killian had been quiet so far, but his voice still raked against Neal's mind like nails on a chalk board. He'd agreed to keep the peace and remain a neutral party between Liam and his family in public, but in private, there had been no contest regarding whose side he'd been on, or how much contempt he held for his sister.

Apple on the other hand, had taken no such vow. "Ugh, why are you even here! You and Emma, no one needs or wants you here! Why don't you go roll around in your little love boat. Just looking at you makes me want to kill something!"

"Right," Killian said, not knowing Apple well enough to understand she was deathly serious, "because Emma and I saved Marion's life and broke time."

"No, you pathetic excuse for a human being," Apple growled, magic sparking instantly from her fingertips as the room fell silent, "because you nearly killed one of my best friends. I can forgive you for not understanding how time travel works, after all, you're a moron, but I will never forgive you for what you did to Liam."

Hook threw up his good hand and spun to face Emma before turning back towards Apple, "And what exactly did I do to Liam? I know he was 15 when I did it, but he wasn't exactly forthcoming with the details."

Neal took that as his queue and stepped between Apple and Jones before things got ugly. His expression was as cold as his voice when he turned to look at Hook, "Out of respect for my sister, this conversation is over. I suggest, if you want answers about Liam, you talk to Roland." He sneered, the expression foreign on his features, but honest none the less, "Though I'd bring a sword with you, if you have any hope of making it out of that conversation alive."

"Bloody Hell!" Hook roared, advancing on him.

"Neal!" He felt it immediately, the tickle of magic, and then the cold hard steel encased in leather, worn smooth on the grip; molding his hand perfectly. It was an extension of his arm, just as Roland had taught him, and he raised the long sword menacingly at his brother-in-law.

Hook immediately stopped, taking a side step to more fully cover Emma. "Now hold on there, Mate. I want answers, not a fight."

"Too bad," Neal hissed. He never lost control, not unless someone hurt the ones he loved, and none had done that more than Hook. "I'd be doing us all a favor if I just got rid of you now, before Emma made the biggest mistake of her life."

"Neal," Apple's long fingers wrapped around his sword arm, "Come on, this isn't your fight."

"He's my nephew, my little brother, and I should have been there to protect him!" Guilt, insurmountable, overwhelmed him. Liam had asked him to go on that fateful fishing trip, but he'd wanted to spend the evening at the ball pretending not to be staring at Apple all night. He'd let Liam go on his own because never in a million years had he suspected that the kind and loving father Killian had been, would turn overnight into the monster he'd become.

She ducked under his sword arm and pressed her hands to his chest, not pushing, but ready if she had too. "It wasn't your fault, and now it's not your place to defend him. That's Roland's job, and trust me, he'll make it hurt a lot more than your generous heart would."

Glancing down, he saw the love and respect she held for him shining brightly in her blue eyes, and though he glanced back up at Hook, he let his sword drop before turning to the side and sheathing it in the scabbard Apple had returned to his belt.

When he looked back up at Jones, his neutrality had returned. "I am infinitely aware that you are in the dark about the future, and all your heinous betrayals. That is the only," he stressed the word, "reason I am walking away from this fight." He took a step towards Jones, his free arm capturing Apple so she wouldn't fall over due to his advance. "But if you approach my nephew, if you talk to him, look at him," he drew a calming breath, "then I will not hesitate to run your bigoted, cowardly heart through." He raised a hand, his finger pointed at Hook's chest, "My killing you will not stop my mission, so do not tempt me, or any of us, to end you."

Then he turned his gaze on Emma, and the cold contempt was still there, "I will contact you later to find out what you learned. In the meantime, keep him," he indicated Killian with tip of his chin, "away from us, or I won't be responsible for what we do to him."

"OK," his father said, standing with the sleeping baby Neal still in his arms. "I don't know what's going on, and it's time that changed." He glanced between Neal and Apple, "We are going to sit down and figure this out."

His mother nodded, "Your father's right!" Then she blinked, "Wow, that was weird." She shook it off before addressing the room. "Anyway, we barely know why you're here, and we might be able to help you. So you and Apple, are coming to our house for dinner." She looked at Henry and then Emma, "Henry, you and Emma too, and" she looked up and hesitated for a moment before finishing the invite list, "and Regina, I think you should be there as well."

Then his mother smiled at him, and once again, he felt her unconditional love flow bright and warm through him, "Now, what do you want me to cook you for dinner?"

"Hello your majesty. Nice couch. I jest, it's hideous."

"Maleficent!" The once King Victor, stood from behind the desk in his study, while his wife, Queen Ona, gasped and dropped the baby sweater she was knitting.

"Oh no, don't get up on my account." She smiled devilishly, gliding into the room like the terrifying woodland queen she'd once been. "After all, this is your home, and I'm just the uninvited guest," she sighed dramatically, "once again. We do have to stop meeting this way."

Then her eyes lit up with pure malice, "By the way, how is our dear, sweet, princess? Well rested I hope?"

"You witch!" Victor began, rounding his desk, but a tap of her staff had him frozen in place as Ona ran to his side, tears sliding down her panicked face.

"Please, let's not degrade to name calling. Witch? Really!" Then she pointed her staff at him, and eyed him with all the hatred contained within her dark heart. "Now that was beneath even you, Victor."

Straightening, she walked over to a high backed, black leather chair, and put her arms against the rests, eyeing the royal family who had taken everything from her so long ago. "You see, a dear friend of mine recently betrayed me and normally I'd just kill her, but I want her to suffer." She smiled, "And the first step, is to let her think bygones are bygones. Which means I need to invite her over for tea, and since I don't currently have a home," she waved her staff in a circular motion, and watched the couple drop unconsciously to the floor, "I'll be taking yours."

With a luxurious sigh, she stretched her legs out in front of her and deftly kicked off her elegant heels, before leaning back into the depths of the comfortable chair, and began to plan her revenge.

"Easy there, Rabbit. Here, have some tea." He poured her a cupa, watching her arms shake as she reached out to take the cup and saucer. "That bad, eh?"

She nodded, tears in her eyes and her voice thick with sadness, "He didn't believe me. I looked him right in the eye, told him I could fix everything, and he didn't believe me."

Jefferson patted her knee, "The Dark One isn't known for being very forgiving. It'll take time to win him over, especially if that doppelganger is clouding his judgment."

Belle nodded, wiping away at her tears. "It's not as if Rumple hasn't made his fair share of mistakes. And I know, I know what I've done but—"

"Belle," Jefferson crooned, coming to sit next to her on the couch, his hand on her knee, "You haven't done anything. Not really. All of this can be fixed. No one would begrudge you a coping mechanism when dealing with the Dark One, and let's face it, a few drinks certainly doesn't compare to the lengths Cora and Regina went to thanks to his madness. And besides, nothing you do right now will have any bearing on Morganna in the future. Right? She told you how to fix the timeline, and that's all that matters now, fixing it from the beginning, so Rumple never betrays you, and you never force him to leave the town."

With a playful bump of his shoulder to her's, he smiled broadly and clapped his hands together as if to dust them off, "As if it never happened, any of it. We just need to get Gold to listen to you, right?"

She nodded, and he smiled, his hand settling on her knee once again before he gave it a gentle squeeze and rose to his feet to cross the white room. "But making the Dark One listen to you hasn't always been easy. He's stubborn and ornery, which is why we're going to need to think outside the box, and I have just the thing for that."

With a flourish, he opened a drawer and withdrew a red velour sack that immediately began to struggle in his grasp. He tapped the bag a few times, and though it at first moved wildly, soon settled down.

Skeptically, she eyed the bag, "What's that?"

"This," he said jovially, "is the solution to our little problem. I picked it up in Wonderland. It's the perfect thing for what we need."

Returning to her side, he smiled at her, charmingly, "It's a Thinkingspot, very useful when you need some inspiration." With nimble fingers, he untied the bag and slid it down to a thin black disk no bigger than a pin head.

"That little thing did all that thrashing?" Belle asked incredulously, drawing her hand away from the still black spot.

He nodded, "They have a lot to think about, and are very strong, but they get the job done." Reaching around the small disk, he took her hand. "What do you say, Belle, ready to figure out how to get Rumplestiltskin to believe his wife over that imposter pretending to be your daughter?"

As he knew she would, she nodded. "Whatever it takes."

"That's what I like to hear." Drawing her hand towards the spot, she gasped to see it shiver before long spindly legs unwound from it and it rose six inches high. Skittishly, it walked towards her hand, and though she jerked instinctively, he held it firmly, his thumb brushing back and forth over her knuckles. "Don't worry, Rabbit, like all good ideas they have to sink in first."

Suddenly the Thinkingspot pounced, its long legs going needle sharp and plunging into the back of Belle's wrist. She cried out, jerking away from his grip, but he held tight, watching each of the creature's six long legs stab into her wrist and slide up and into her arm.

"No!"

"There, there, Rabbit. Just a little more."

The smell of burning flesh filled the room, and Belle screamed for only a moment before the Thinkingspot's venom released and she drew quiet.

Vacant eyes stared across the room as he rose from the couch and deposited the bag back into its drawer. "In Wonderland, we all to think a little mad, and a Thinkingspot does just the trick." He leaned against the desk and looked back at the woman staring into nothing. "That little spot will do all your thinking for you, so you don't have to think. You just have to do exactly, what I tell you too."

He picked up the decanter of Forgotten Bitters, and lifted the stopper before walking back to the couch and pouring a generous amount into Belle's tea cup.

"There's no harm in a drink, Belle. After all, you just need to convince your husband that Morganna isn't his real daughter, and then none of it will matter anymore because you'll be able to fix time. So drink up, Rabbit, go on, drink up."

And dutifully, Belle lifted the tea cup, and emptied it in one long scorching gulp.