Chapter 17

Gold grins grimly to himself as he fingers the long knife in his hand. The knife that will bring him his freedom and rid him of his undoing. Inviting the boy over for breakfast had been nothing more than a ruse.

He limps around the hardly used kitchen, setting out silverware on the wood table. As Rumplestilskin, he barely cooked. Luckily, his Mr. Gold persona has luckily given him several recipes to prepare from, and so in no time he has a full spread set out, full of breakfast foods a kid will surely love: bacon, eggs, waffles, and doughnuts.

Killing a child. It is something he has never done. Even the Dark One has morals, and killing the innocent is the worst thing one could ever do. But this is a special situation; self preservation has always been a habit of his. He will do whatever it takes to survive.

Just then, the doorbell rings. Showtime. Gold strides towards the door, pulling it open. "Good morning, Henry."

"Morning." Henry chirps.

"Come in." Gold holds the door open for the boy. The boom as the door shuts sounds oddly ominous, as if foreshadowing what is to come. He leads him towards the kitchen, feeling the cold weight of the dagger pushed up his sleeve.

"Smells good." Henry comments cheerily as steps into the kitchen. "Wow!" He says, upon seeing the spread Gold has laid out.

"Have a seat. You must be hungry." Gold gestures at the table. Henry obeys and sits. "Would you like some juice?"

The boy nods, and Gold goes to the fridge and pulls out the carton. He looks over his shoulder; the boy is already busy piling food into his mouth like there's no tomorrow.

Ironically, there will be no tomorrow for him.

As Henry is obviously distracted, Gold fingers the small bottle in his pocket, a jar of the most lethal potion he'd concocted long ago. One drop and Henry would drop dead in the blink of an eye. One drop into the cup of orange juice before him and his problems would be over.

Slowly, Gold retracts his arm, his fingers closed around the small glass bottle as he brings it up. Uncorks it and holds it above the glass. Just one drop.

"Mr. Gold?" A voice says from behind. Gold jumps horribly, spilling the contents of the bottle around the counter. Much to his dismay, none of it lands in the juice.

"Henry." He swiftly pockets the bottle and turns to face him.

"Do you need any help?" Henry asks.

Hmph. Manners, which is pretty ironic, since Regina was the one who'd raised him. "N-no. I'm fine. Just go on and eat. You must be hungry."

"Alright." The boy answers, sitting back down.

Gold sighs heavily and grabs the glasses of orange juice, sitting down across the table from Henry. Oh well. There's always the knife.

Although he has no appetite, he forces himself to bite into a piece of toast. "So how are you doing?" He asks. If he's going to pull this off, he needs to catch the boy off guard; surely Henry has picked up something or two on self defense from his mothers.

"I'm ok." Henry answers, cutting up a bit of waffle.

"I imagine it's lonely there, all by yourself." Gold comments.

"Yeah." For a split second, the expression on Henry's face reminds him of Bae's, and Gold gasps loudly, gripping the table for support as he attempts to compose himself.

"Mr. Gold?" Henry says tentatively.

"Yes?"

"Do you know what happened to everyone?"

"No." Gold answers immediately. But actually, he did. From what he'd deduced, the spell he'd created to bring back Belle's memories backfired, reacting badly with the magic beans the Charmings had been growing, sending everyone away. But why he and Henry are left, he does not know. Perhaps fate is giving him a chance at freedom.

"Oh." Henry looks downcast again. "I miss everyone. Do you miss anyone?"

"Yes." Gold answers tightly. "Eat up, before its cold." He says, trying to change the subject.

"But I know that they're trying to find their way back. I just know." Henry continues.

"How optimistic of you." Sadly, what the boy does not know is that life never works out the way you want it to.

"That's what my family does. We always find each other." Hope is etched in Henry's face. Again, the boy reminds Gold of a young Bae, back before everything went wrong. He mentally berates himself; now is not the time to reminisce.

"Hey, do you have any more juice?" Henry holds up his empty glass.

"In the fridge."

The boy leaps up. Gold can hear the soft squish as the fridge opens. Henry's back is turned, and suddenly it occurs to Gold that this is his opportunity. Slowly, he stands up, fingering the cold metal knife. Oh, how easy would it be to just plunge the knife into the boy's back. He can practically feel the flesh breaking and the shock on Henry's face as his lifeblood seeps out of him.

He raises the knife, preparing to strike. Do it! A voice inside screams. Now! But for some odd reason, he is unable to.

It is as if something is holding him back.

Suddenly Henry whips around. "W-what are you doing?" He eyes the knife, which is now pointed directly at his heart. "What's going on?"

Another perfect moment! "A seer told me you would be my undoing."

Fear etches itself over the boy's face. "H-huh?"

"You're my undoing. So I must be yours."

"But…" Henry stammers. "I didn't do anything!"

"It doesn't matter what you did, dearie. It's about what you will do, and how that will affect me."

"Mr. Gold." Henry breathes heavily. "Don't do this. Think of how your son, my dad, would react."

Gold reaches out and grabs Henry's collar, bringing the boy in close, pointing the knife's sharp tip at the delicate skin on his neck. "Don't talk to me about my son!" He hisses angrily. "He's gone!"

"Please…" Henry begs. "Grandpa…"

Grandpa.

Grandpa.

He is Henry's grandpa. Henry is his grandson. They're family.

Suddenly, Gold stumbles back, gasping. "I-I can't…" The knife clatters loudly to the ground.

His grandson. This boy in front of him is his grandson. The last living connection he has to Baelfire. How can he kill him? Doing so would only prove his son right, that he was a good for nothing coward. How can he hurt another boy the same way he hurt his son?

"Y-you're my grandson." Gold stammers. Tears begin to drip down his face. "Bae." He whispers, reaching up to touch the boy's face. "You look so much like Bae."

Henry laughs nervously, kicking the knife far out of reach. "That's what genetics do."

"My boy…he's gone." Gold is now full on crying, mumbling incoherently. "He's gone…"

Slowly, tentatively, Henry gets over his shock and stands up, wrapping his arms around his grandpa; it is as if the last few minutes never happened. "It's ok. We're gonna get him back. Everyone else too."

The care and concern in Henry's voice only serves to make him feel worse. He'd been threatening the boy with a knife moments ago and now he's comforting him. With a jolt, Gold realizes that if this boy is dead, his last connection to his son will be dead as well, rendering him really and truly alone forever. This time, he has no Belle to lean on, no hope at all.

It is this thought that causes Gold to acknowledge the fact that undoing or not, he cannot kill Henry.

Because without Henry, he will eventually die alone. And the only thing worse than dying is dying alone.

Author's note: Whew Gold didnt kill Henry!