Chapter Four: Shattered Masks

Emma was drowsing in the chair when Gold gave a full body shudder, almost convulsing on the bed. The movement startled her awake, jerking her out of her seat. Across the bed, Neal jumped as well. "What? What's happening?"

Gold moaned, trembling where he lay. "No..." The man's face contorted, twisting in pain and rage and grief. "No..."

He shuddered again, hands flexing in the chains. "No...I did this...I did this..." He tugged at his restraints, groaning.

Emma watched, shocked, as a tear slid from his closed eyes and down his cheek, body twisting as though he was trying to curl up, to hide. "No...I don't..."

Emma looked up, wide-eyed, at Neal. "What the hell?"

"I don't know. I've never seen him like this. Except last month, when he was dying of poison. He was pretty messed up then."

"You think this is killing him?" Emma felt ice in her stomach. She didn't want to have to choose between Gold's life and Henry's, no matter how much she distrusted one and loved the other.

"He said it wasn't. But I've got no idea what it is doing to him."

Emma watched Gold. He was trembling, his expression one of anguish. "Then we should call in an expert." She turned to her parents, both of whom were watching Gold with wary expressions. "David...you stay with Neal. Mary Margaret, you come with me. I'll need you watch Henry." Her mother nodded and stood up. She gave her husband a quick kiss, then grabbed her coat.

Emma followed suit, then turned back to Neal. She reached across and gave his hand a squeeze. "We'll figure this out."

Neal's mouth tightened. "Yeah. But if we have to choose between him and Henry..."

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it." She held his hand a moment longer, then let go and turned to Mary Margaret, who already had her purse slung over her shoulder. "Let's go." Mary Margaret nodded and followed her out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up at the hospital and made their way to intensive care. Regina was sitting and watching Henry, but she stood up quickly as they approached. "What's happened?"

"It's Gold. He's...it's not good. But we have no idea what spell he put himself under, and we were hoping you'd be able to identify it." Emma looked at her son, still lying silent on the white hospital bed. "How's Henry?"

"Stable. He's even improved marginally. Doctor Whale thinks if he keeps up, they might be able to take him off the respirator. He couldn't say when though." Regina looked at her son as well.

"Great. We should have one of us back here soon. For now, I'd like to let Mary Margaret watch Henry, and you come to Gold's place and see what you can tell us. If this spell is fatal, we need to know."

"Of course." Regina's lips pursed, eyes hardening as she looked at Mary Margaret. Then she visibly got a hold of herself. "We should go and come back as soon as possible."

"Right." Emma glanced at Mary Margaret. "Notify us if anything, and I mean anything, changes."

"Of course." Emma held her gaze a moment, then led Regina out of the ward and down to her car.

The drive back was tense, neither of them willing to speak, and both quietly fretting over the child they'd left behind. Emma was more than relieved when she pulled up to the house and led Regina inside. "This way."

David met them in the hall outside the door. "Emma."

"Any change?"

David shook his head. "Not significantly. Well, I mean...he's a little worse." He winced.

"Great. We need to get in there." Emma nudged the man who was her father aside and led Regina into the bedroom.

On the bed Gold was shivering, head pushed back into the pillows as he shuddered and moaned. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his hands were in white-knuckled fists. Emma was shocked to see tear tracks on his face. "Neal?"

Neal shook his head. "I dunno. He keeps muttering snatches, but I can't tell what it's about."

"Let me see." Regina moved to the bedside and extended one hand over the stricken man. Her hand glowed a faint purple as she moved it slowly over him.

One eyebrow rose. "Well, well. I'm impressed."

"What is it?" Emma could feel her stomach coiling into a hard knot.

"The Shattered Mask Spell." Regina dropped her hand. "Hard to say what's more surprising, that someone like him could cast that particular spell, or that he'd have the guts to do so."

"Why? What's it do?" Emma moved to look at Gold.

"It forces it's target to face the worst of themselves." Regina watched as Gold flinched on the bed. "The spell makes the victim relive his or her worst deeds, worst actions, every failure. It used to be a punishment for criminals. Most of them committed suicide after the spell was lifted."

"What the hell?" Emma felt bile churning in her throat.

"That ain't funny." Neal had stiffened, his hands clenched into fists.

"Of course not. But it's true." Regina's eyes drifted over Gold's prone form. "The spell can't take effect on a person with a truly wicked heart, someone who has no sense of remorse. I would have thought the Dark One would be immune, but it appears I was mistaken."

"Yeah. Obviously." Emma swallowed hard. "You said you didn't think he would cast this spell."

Regina shook her head. "Rumplestiltskin is a survivor. He would have to know the effects of this curse." Regina met Emma's eyes. "I've been the Evil Queen for longer than you've been alive, Miss Swann. A spell like this would tear my mind to shreds. But Gold..." her lip twisted. "Gold's been the Dark One, the manipulator in the shadows, the deal-maker, for well over two centuries. How much blackness, how many regrets, do you think are on his soul?"

"Crap." Emma felt her heart sink.

"We gotta wake him." Neal reached out to his father, but Emma and Regina both caught his wrist.

Emma shook her head. "We wake him, Henry dies." She met Neal's gaze, seeing the anger and the hurt there. "Look, I don't like it either, but he chose this. He chose to save Henry. And Regina's right, he had to know the cost. You know he'll never forgive us if we don't honor his wishes."

"Emma..."

She tightened her grip. "We'll just have to be prepared for when he wakes. We're already watching him, we'll just extend the watch until we're sure he won't do anything...drastic."

"Like kill himself." Neal practically spat the words.

"Exactly. Like kill himself. We can set up a suicide watch. Besides, he has you here. And Henry. That might be enough to hold him back."

"It wasn't before." Neal stared down at his father. Finally, he relaxed and drew back. "Fine. But if he dies..."

"I get it. We're screwed. But let's not borrow trouble, okay? I think we've got enough on our plates as it is." Emma huffed out a breath. "Let's just...keep watch for now."

"Yeah." Neal stood staring at his father's tormented face for a long moment, then dropped back into his chair. "For now."

***SM***

The memories came one after another, a relentless stream. Every act of cruelty. Every deal, every moment of casual violence. The people he had destroyed and killed, the families he had torn apart. The lives he had ruined in one form or another.

Rumplestiltskin knelt, tears washing over his face, soul wrenched with each new image. There was the man he had turned into a slug and killed. He'd claimed it was because the man had knocked Bae down and injured him, but in truth Baelfire's injury had been trifling. He could have healed a hundred such wounds with the same magic he'd used to transform the man.

And he hadn't even listened when his own son had begged him not to do it.

He'd been too busy enjoying it. Enjoying having the power of life and death over the common folk. Enjoying watching the faces that had once sneered and spit on him tremble and flinch away in fear.

The Dark One hissed and giggled in his ears, laughing at each new image. Laughing as he cringed from each cruel deed, from the death and destruction he wove in his wake. "You used to blame this on me, dearie. Used to say it was the curse. But that isn't the whole truth, now is it? Is it?"

"No..."

The Dark One crouched beside him. "Admit it, dearie. You enjoyed this. You liked having the power. Feeling the life slip through your fingers, seeing them afraid, seeing them cower. Seeing them bend over to kiss your boots. Come on now, admit it."

"I just...I wanted..." His voice broke.

"Ah-ah, no lies now. You know the rules." The Dark One wiggled a finger in his face.

"Yes." His voice cracked. "I...I wanted them to bow. I wanted them to fear me. They...they called me a coward and spat on me. I wanted to pay them back."

"And you did, dearie. A dozen times over, didn't you. And you loved every minute of it. Even more than you loved the son you claimed to want to protect. The son you claimed you were doing everything for."

How many times had Bae begged him to stop? Begged him not to make the deals? Begged him to spare the townsfolk? How many times had Bae asked him to stop using the power, especially to hurt people?

Too many to count. At first, he'd done as Bae asked him to. But then he'd stopped listening. He'd claimed that he was only sending a message, keeping people in line. Keeping Bae safe by making everyone too frightened to touch him.

"I..."

"Didn't listen because you didn't want to dearie."

It was true. He hadn't listened. And it had nothing to do with protecting Bae.

He watched himself, listened to the sneering laughter echoed in the Dark One beside him. Watched the cruel smirk on his own face.

Watched himself drunk on power and reveling in it. A monster.

He remembered what he'd once taught Cora, about magic and emotion. How he'd taught her to spin straw into gold using the power of her anger and humiliation, her desire for vengeance.

'I want their knees to crack from kneeling on the stone, and their necks to break from bending.'

He'd laughed when she told him that. Because he'd enjoyed having the power to make it so.

He watched himself casually brutalize his serving woman, a mute. Because she had seen his dagger. Listened to himself laugh about it afterward, brushing off Bae's horrified protest with a snicker and a joke. 'Well, she might have drawn a picture.'

He looked at his son's horrified face.

The Dark One bent and laughed in his ear. "Seeing it now aren't we dearie? Seeing a truth we didn't want to see? Go on. Say it out loud. Words are power, and you've got to speak them to go on."

"I drove him away. And I didn't care. I said I was doing it to keep him safe, but I just didn't care. And I..." The words choked him.

"Out with it. Haven't got all day."

"I broke his trust in me. His faith in me. It wasn't just the portal where I failed him. It was here, now. Every time I used my power. Every time I did this..." His voice cracked and broke.

"So you did. So you did. Not a nice feeling is it? Breaking your boy's heart to the point he thought he had to go worlds away. To where he wanted to cross realms just to stop...you." The Dark One laughed.

Rumplestiltskin bowed his head, curling into a ball of anguish as the truth assailed him. "I failed to protect him from me...I hurt my boy the worst…." He choked. "I'm sorry…."

"More to see now, more to see." The Dark One's hand seized his shoulder. Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes in agony as a new memory formed around him.

He had failed his son in every way that mattered, and had been so power drunk he hadn't even seen it.

Author's Note: Things are getting worse...

There's an old saying about never underestimating the quiet ones, and never pushing a gentle person until they snap...