CHAPTER 6
Amy opened her eyes to see nothing but blinding whiteness. Is this heaven? she thought groggily. It certainly looked like every interpretation of heaven she'd ever seen; as her eyes adjusted to the brightness she saw that she was in a room with stark white walls and ceiling. Light poured in from a window next to her, though the shade (also white, naturally) was drawn. But, if this was indeed paradise hereafter, how had she gotten here? Of course, she wondered what had happened that had brought her here; but she also wondered how she had made the cut for heaven instead of the alternative. Didn't one have to believe in heaven in the first place in order to get there?
Her disjointed inner theological monologue was interrupted when a kindly, white-bearded face leaned over her with a smile. For a split second, she thought it was Saint Peter. But this man had glasses, which she didn't think a celestial being would need. Besides, there was something familiar about him. He was…she concentrated…he was…
"Doc," she croaked.
Dr. Dockery, Storybrooke's one and only OB-GYN, known to most of his patients as Doc ("because," he explained, "Dr. Dockery sounds like a stutter") beamed at her. "Well, Miss Miller," he said in his customary cheerful tone. "You're finally awake."
With every second that passed, she became more and more alert. Looking around, she saw the parts of the room she had missed on her first glance: the fake wood nightstand, the TV mounted high on the wall, the uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs, the two doors, side-by-side, that she knew would lead to a bathroom and the hallway respectively. "I'm in the hospital?"
He nodded affirmatively. "Yes," he said. "You were admitted early yesterday morning." His jovial expression faded, replaced by a look of concern. "Do you remember why?"
"No," she began…then suddenly she did remember. With a gasp, her hands flew to her belly, terrified of what they would find.
She was relieved beyond words to discover the same hard mound that had been there for some weeks now, and was steadily growing. The relief was even greater when she felt the same tentative tapping within she had started feeling recently, which seemed to grow a little stronger every time it came. She tried to speak, but couldn't around the sudden lump in her throat. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Doc understood exactly what she was going through at that moment, and answered the question she had been unable to voice. "You went into preterm labor, Miss Miller," he explained to her gently. "It happens sometimes; we don't always know why. We're still not sure in your case. But the important thing is that we were able to stop it. The baby is fine. If you follow my instructions to the letter, there's no reason you won't be able to carry her to term."
Two words from his speech jumped out at her. One was "fine". The other was "her".
Once again he seemed to guess what she was thinking. "A little girl," he confirmed, the smile returning to his face. "After we managed to stop the contractions, we did some testing to make sure the baby wasn't…harmed. Sometimes preterm labor is the body's way of expelling a child that has died or is dying. Luckily, that wasn't the case here. Not only was your baby very much alive and full of beans, she seems to be developing normally…and she was even kind enough to let us get a good look at her before she started flip-flopping around again, so we could tell that she is a girl."
The tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She made no effort to hide them. Although she still couldn't speak, she reached up and grasped his hand. Her message was unmistakable, even before she managed to whisper "Thank you."
"Miss Miller," he smiled down at her, and at that moment she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone, "you are very welcome."
Again, his smile faded. "But you're not out of the woods yet, not by a long shot," he cautioned. "We're going to keep you here at least another day for observation—" she nodded; she had expected as much—"and when we do release you you're going to have to be on bed rest indefinitely. Possibly for the remainder of your pregnancy."
Her relief and her joy vanished instantly, replaced by dismay. Bed rest…for who knew how long, maybe until she gave birth. She couldn't do it, there was no way. She was Mr. Gold's housekeeper. She couldn't be confined to bed! She'd lose her job; she would be out on the street. No, she couldn't do what the doctor was telling her.
But she had to do it if she wanted her baby to survive. And Amy desired that above all things. She knew she would do whatever it took to keep her baby…her daughter…safe, even if it meant giving up her job, her place in the house she loved, and any certainty about either of their futures.
Doc could see the distress in her face. "Don't worry," he told the pale young woman in the hospital bed, patting her hand reassuringly. "It does no good for you or the baby to get yourself all worked up. I know you've been keeping house for Mr. Gold, and obviously you won't be able to continue doing so now. But I promise you, there's nothing to worry about. You have a lot more friends in town than you realize, Miss Miller. Even if you're unable to remain at Mr. Gold's any longer, there will be somewhere for you to go."
"Thank you," she repeated, though with far less elation than she had uttered the words before. It was nice of him to tell her that she would be taken care of, but she didn't want that. She didn't want to become the town charity case on top of everything else. But she realized that whether she wanted it or not, that was clearly what she was going to become now. Mr. Gold wouldn't continue to let her live in his home if she could no longer work for him, and why should he? He had already been far kinder than she would ever have expected. But in her present state, she had reached the end of her usefulness to him. She wasn't bitter about it. After all, he wouldn't be the first to discard her once he was done with her.
Still…deep in her heart, she felt a twinge of sadness. Damn her naïveté. It had led her astray yet again. It had led her to believe that maybe, just possibly, the man had felt something for her. Maybe not what she wanted him to feel for her, but something beyond the usual employer-employee relationship nonetheless? She had allowed her idealistic nature to cloud the truth of what she knew about him…just as she had done with Todd. And just as with Todd, she had experienced a rude awakening. Mr. Gold's absence spoke volumes. Or so she thought.
"I assume you've told my employer…or should I say my former employer…that I'll no longer be able to work for him?" she asked the doctor. Her tone wasn't bitter so much as resigned.
Much to her surprise the doctor said "No, I haven't."
She looked at him in frank confusion, one eyebrow slightly raised in a rather Mr. Gold-like expression.
"I wasn't going to discuss the particulars of your condition with him…with anyone…until I was able to talk with you first," Doc said. "And I haven't. And I won't, unless you allow it. No matter who's paying your medical bills, you're still entitled to doctor-patient confidentiality."
She was relieved by his words, and also somewhat in awe of him. There was a core of steel under that good-humored façade. He wasn't going to compromise his principles even for the man who more or less owned his hospital and his very town.
Her thoughts shifted back to Mr. Gold. If he didn't know about her condition and that she would no longer be able to work for him, and therefore was no longer of any use to him, then where was he? She asked the doctor this, though she left off the part about no longer being of any use to him.
"He had some business to attend to," Doc told her. She couldn't suppress a smirk. That was Mr. Gold for you.
Doc realized that she thought the man had more or less thrown her to the wolves, and was upset by this. Why she should be so hurt, he didn't know—didn't she realize who she'd been working for?—but that was no business of his. What was his business was the well-being of this girl and her child, so he told her the rest of it.
"He didn't specify, but I think he went home to get a shower and a change of clothes," Doc continued. "He only left about an hour ago, and only then after I assured him I would call if your condition changed in any way. He's hardly left your side since you were admitted, Miss Miller."
Amy frankly gaped at the kindly obstetrician. "Amy," she finally managed to say, apropos of nothing. "Call me Amy."
"Amy, then," Doc said. He was bewildered at the sudden inexplicable expression of happiness on the girl's face—not quite as joyful as when she had realized her baby was all right, but it was close. Again, he reminded himself it was none of his business.
"What do you remember of the night before last, Amy?" he asked.
She concentrated. "We were both going to bed…he'd been really late getting home, and I was worried, but it turned out he was OK. I was upset, but we talked it out…we were leaving the kitchen. He was going to his room, and I was going to my apartment," she clarified, not wanting the doctor to think anything unseemly. "Then the clock chimed midnight, and he told me that the old clock in the town square had started working again. Right when he told me that"—a shadow crossed her face at the memory—"the first contraction hit." She shook her head. "The next thing I remember is waking up here."
"Well, quite a bit happened between then and now," Doc said. "However, I really need to keep my word to Mr. Gold and let him know you're awake." He rose to go.
"But…but…" Amy protested. It was on the tip of her tongue to wail "You can't just leave me hanging after an opening like that!"
By the twinkle in his eye, she realized he knew very well what she was thinking. "Don't worry," he said, his merry expression returning once more. "There are two young ladies in the hall who have been chomping at the bit to see you. I'm sure they'll explain everything to your satisfaction." He winked at her as he left the room.
Perhaps thirty seconds after he exited the door banged open and Ruby charged in, Ashley right on her heels.
Ruby made it to the side of the bed in maybe ten steps, though it was a large room and the bed was located on the farthest side from the door. "Way to scare the shit out of everyone, Amelia," she greeted. "What are you planning for an encore?" Anyone else would have thought she was angry, but Amy knew better. Ruby got mean when she was scared, just like her grandmother; the two couldn't get along because they were so alike. Besides, she was close enough for Amy to see that her eye makeup was slightly smeared, and not intentionally.
"I'm OK, Rube," she said, smiling up at her friend. Ruby responded by throwing her arms around her. Amy's own arms came up to return the embrace, and the two girls simply held one another for a moment, cheek to cheek.
"Don't you ever pull a stunt like this again, Miller," Ruby whispered; but Amy could feel the wetness on her cheek. Her lips curved into a smile.
"Well, you have to admit it livened things up," she whispered back.
Ashley had never fully understood their banter or the way Ruby operated, and she was currently looking at Ruby as though she had done something horrible.
"Ruby!" she said reproachfully. "You're acting like Amy did it on purpose!"
Her friends broke their embrace and grinned at each other. Ashley was the most loyal friend one could ever hope to have, and the kindest-hearted, but she would never be accused of being quick on the uptake.
"Beavis," Ruby mouthed.
"Butters," Amy mouthed back. This was a routine that dated from their earliest days of high school, and never failed to sail right over Ashley's pretty blonde head.
"Hell, Ashley," Ruby addressed the other girl, "Amy knows I know she didn't do it on purpose. And she did scare the shit out of everybody." She turned back to the girl in the hospital bed. "You wouldn't believe this place for the past day and a half. It's been like Grand Central Station meets 'General Hospital'." She pulled one of the hard plastic chairs to Amy's bedside; Amy motioned for Ashley to do the same, and she did, settling at Amy's other side. Amy smiled at her and took her hand. She really had the best of both worlds with her friends, she realized. With Ruby she could satisfy her need for irreverent and often bawdy humor, and with Ashley she could indulge her gentle, protective side. Even if Fate had dealt her a shitty hand when it came to her family and her romantic relationships, she had lucked out when it came to her friends.
"What are you babbling about now, Rube?" she asked her raven-haired friend, who was dressed as outrageously as ever in a white cutoff top that ended just under her boobs and red short-shorts that didn't completely cover her butt. Next week it would be Thanksgiving. Leave it to Ruby.
"Doc said something a few minutes ago about me having more friends in this town than I realized, and now you're saying it's been like Grand Central Station." Amy went on. "What the hell, man?"
"Damned if I know," Ruby said, settling back for a good long gossip session. "Maybe everyone thought you were dead and this joint was the funeral home and they were coming to pay their respects. Ashley, chill," she said at the blonde's gasp. "When are you ever going to understand that this is just the way Amy and I are? Anyhoo," she continued without missing a beat, "you wouldn't believe the stream of visitors you've been getting, girl."
"Like who?" Amy was thoroughly mystified. She had barely spoken to anyone in town for months. Hell, she had barely been to town for months.
"Well, of course all the usual suspects," Ruby began ticking off, "like me and Ash and Granny. The three of us have been alternating shifts at the diner so at least one of us would be here when you woke up. And Sheriff Graham's been by a couple of times. And even the Big Cheese herself, Madame Mayor, stopped by yesterday."
Amy did her best Sheila Broslovski. "WhatwhatWHAT?" she said. "The Mayor? Came by to see little old me?" The words were facetious, but the surprise was genuine.
"Yes," Ashley confirmed. "She didn't stay long, but she brought a big basket of apples."
"Probably loaded with pesticides," Ruby interjected. "I guess none of those are too surprising, though, even the Mayor. You know how she has to stick her nose in every single thing that happens in this town. But there's been a lot more. Dr. Hopper and Marco—"
Now Ashley interrupted. "They came together. They brought you flowers." She looked around. "Hey, where are your flowers?"
Ruby jumped up. "You're right, Ash," she said. "Where are the flowers?" she began searching the room, leaving Amy feeling as though she had dropped into Wonderland.
"Maybe they're watering them," Ashley suggested as Ruby began to mutter about damn flower-thieving nurses.
Ruby stared at her for a second before checking the bathroom. There, sitting in the sink, were Amy's floral tributes. Someone had indeed watered them, and must have left them in the sink to drain out a bit.
Amy's jaw dropped as Ruby carried several arrangements into the room and began placing them on the windowsill. "These are the ones from Dr. Hopper and Marco," she said of a pretty mixed fall bouquet. "Henry Mills brought you these daisies when he came by before school this morning. Did you know he ran away and found his birth mother?" Amy nodded. "He said to tell you that he would come back and visit later, and he would bring her with him."
Amy was startled. "She's still here?" she said. "But I thought—"
"Well, it's weird," Ruby said as she continued to artfully place the bouquets around the room. "Seems she wasn't actually wasted when she crashed her car—you know about that too, I guess. She woke up swearing that a giant wolf was standing in the road and caused her to swerve." She snickered. "I think she had had a little too much if you ask me. When have there ever been wolves around here?" Not expecting an answer and not waiting for one she went on. "Anyway, she changed her mind about leaving, at least for now. She's rented a room at the inn for a week. Granny's thrilled about that, I can tell you. Now we'll have something left over after making our payment to Mr. Gold for the month."
At the mention of Mr. Gold Amy's ears perked up. "Mr. Gold?" she said, trying not to sound too eager. "What's going on with him? Doc said he had to leave for a little while, but that he'd left instructions to call him if anything changed with me. He said he's hardly left my side."
This time it was Ruby and Ashley exchanging glances. Amy didn't like this turn of events one bit. "What?" she said, a little peevishly. "Why are you looking at each other like that? He's all right, isn't he?"
Silence." He is now," Ashley said finally.
"Now? What do you mean? Did something happen to him?" She knew she was blowing it at trying not to seem too interested, but now she was too anxious to care.
"Nothing life-threatening," Ruby hastened to assure her, glaring daggers at Ashley. Now Amy really felt like she was in Wonderland. "And he has hardly left your side. Of course, for a while it was because he couldn't. You practically murdleized the poor guy's leg, Amelia."
"Ruby, she didn't do it on purpose," Ashley protested yet again, and Amy felt like she was back on somewhat familiar ground.
"I don't understand," she said. "What did I do to his leg?"
"You didn't do anything," Ashley said. "Well, you kinda did, but you didn't mean to. When you passed out—"
"I passed out?"
"Yuppers," Ruby cut in. "Just about took a swan dive right to the floor. Would have if he hadn't been there to catch you."
"Catch me?"
"Don't ask me how he did it," Ashley said. "The doctors explained it, but it was some big long word and I forget—"
"Adrenaline," Amy guessed through lips that suddenly felt numb.
"Yeah, that's it. Anyway, when he realized you were falling this adreny-whatever kicked in and he caught you. Then he carried you to the living room and laid you on the couch and called 911."
Ruby picked up the story. "The really crazy part is he did it all without his cane; he had to drop it to carry you. It was like he was Superman or something. By the time the paramedics got there, though, the adrenaline had worn off and he could hardly move. They brought him in the ambulance along with you. But they gave him a shot of something in his bad leg and now it's fine." She paused. "Well, it's as OK as it ever was."
"But even after his leg was better he stayed right with you until Dr. Dockery told him your condition was stable and you weren't going to lose the baby," Ashley put in. "Then he left for a little while, I think to change clothes."
"And collect his rents," said Ruby sourly. She and her grandmother were among the many in town that had Mr. Gold as a landlord.
Amy shook her head and smirked again, but this time it was rueful rather than bitter. Even after being a hero and injuring himself in the process, Gold had to turn around and remind Storybrooke just who he was. He wouldn't want the town to think he had gone soft.
"He's only been leaving long enough to go change, and he'll only leave if one of us or Granny is here," Ashley said. "He's even paying me to work at the diner so one of the three of us can be here all the time. And I don't think he's been to the shop the last couple of days."
"He hasn't," Ruby confirmed. "He's even been sleeping here. Not here in this room," she clarified at Amy's stunned expression. "They let him sleep in the on-call room. But there's still been plenty of talk about it, I can tell you."
"Talk?" Amy queried. "What kind of talk?" Even as she asked, she had a good idea of the kind of talk the latest occurrence in her and Mr. Gold's "arrangement" had engendered.
"Well…" Ruby hesitated. "Don't get upset, OK? The people who really count know the rumors are just retarded. We set them straight every time we have a chance. Granny even kicked Leroy and Dr. Whale out of the diner today for talking shit. 'If you're stupid enough to gossip about the man who owns this town right here in public where anyone can hear, that's your own affair,' she told them, 'but if you're going to slander the girl who's like another grandchild to me you'll have to do it elsewhere'. She tossed them right out on their asses. Wouldn't even let them finish their food or get it to go."
Amy was comforted at the thought of Granny taking up for her, but also disturbed. If the old woman had felt the need to defend her so strongly, whatever was being said must be pretty ugly. "Tell me, Rube," she said. "I won't get upset, I promise."
There was a long pause.
"There are different stories floating around," Ruby finally began. "Some people think Mr. Gold is the baby's father, and that's why you're staying with him. They think he's either going to claim the baby if it's a boy and marry you—I think the ones who think that have been reading too many of those 'historical novels' with the half-naked chicks on the front—or he's going to take the baby when it's born and pay you off to leave town. This is also utter bullshit. Who the hell ever leaves Storybrooke?
"Then there are the people who know that Todd was the baby's father, but they have some stupid-ass theories too. They think you and Mr. Gold have some kind of deal where he's going to sell your baby to the highest bidder and you're going to split the profits. And a few think he's going to adopt the baby himself and pay you off to leave town. That pretty much sums up all the stories," she concluded.
Amy was silent for a few minutes, taking it all in. she'd known the town had to be talking, but she had so far managed not to hear any of the theories floating around. She felt bad that people could think she was the kind of person who would actually sell her own baby, but somehow she felt even worse for Mr. Gold. Because of his many acts of kindness towards her, Storybrooke now thought even worse of him than they previously had. Even his act of heroism had been misconstrued.
"But like I said," Ruby reminded her, "the people who really count know what's really going on. Like Sheriff Graham, and Archie and Marco, and of course me and Ashley and Granny. And even a lot of the people who buy into these bullshit theories aren't totally crucifying you. A lot of people think you have no idea of Mr. Gold's…um…wicked schemes. They think you're just an innocent girl who got sucked in way over your head."
Amy finally spoke. "If you ask me," she said, "it sounds like everyone in town has been reading too many books. Or watching too many soaps, or something."
Ruby shrugged. "Well, you know Storybrooke. Nothing ever happens here, so when something finally does happen that's semi-interesting everyone has to put their two cents in about it. God, I hate this town."
"I do too, sometimes," Amy confessed. "I would leave it, if I could. I still might after the baby is born. I know it seems like no one ever does, but surely to God people leave sometimes. We just don't hear about it."
"I don't know," Ruby mused. "Remember when I was going to move to Boston? I already had a job lined up and everything. The night before I was supposed to leave Granny had her heart attack. And remember in seventh grade when Ashley and her family were thinking about moving to Bangor? Mr. Boyd was supposed to be going to look at a house when…" She fell silent. Ashley's father had died in a mysterious single-car crash right outside the city limits. No one had ever figured out what caused the crash, or why the car's airbag, which probably would have saved Mr. Boyd, hadn't deployed. "Anyway, it's almost like something doesn't want people to leave this town."
Amy grinned. "Now who's been reading too many books, Rube?" she teased. "Those were just coincidences. People come and go all the time. They must. Just because no one in our immediate circle has ever left doesn't mean that no one leaves."
"I don't know," Ruby repeated, uncharacteristically pensive. All three of them were quiet for a moment.
A change of subject was in order, Amy decided. "You said you've been setting people straight when they spout off with their theories," she said. "So what are you telling them?"
"Just what they need to know," Ruby replied, back to her sassy self. "That anyone with eyes could have seen you hanging around with Todd all summer, and anyone with half a brain should know that he's the daddy. That you'd never even met Mr. Gold until you were already pregnant and Todd pulled his vanishing act and your dad kicked you out. And that Mr. Gold gave you a job and a place to stay because…well, who knows why Mr. Gold does anything? But I've made it clear to everyone that you're not the kind of person who would sell her kid and that anyone who continues to say so will answer to me." She stuck out her chest. "Now, the people who really are concerned—like Dr. Hopper—I tell them a little more. Like that you're probably going to give the baby up for adoption, but you're going to do it the legal way, not sell it. And that, as far as I know, Mr. Gold hasn't tried to talk you into selling it, to him or anyone else."
"He hasn't talked to me about it at all since I first started working for him," Amy revealed. "I told him I was considering adoption, and he said that was probably a good idea, but beyond that he hasn't said a word about it."
"You don't think there's any way you can keep the baby?" Ashley finally spoke up.
Amy chose her words carefully. "I've thought about it," she told her friend. "I've gone over all the options, what few I have. I probably could keep the baby. I really want to, especially now, after almost losing her."
Ruby pounced. "'Her'?" she asked. Amy nodded. "Ha! I knew it!" Ruby gloated. "Granny owes me a night off. She was convinced it was a boy."
Amy smiled briefly before continuing. "But I couldn't give a baby the kind of life it deserves. I'm not going to be able to work for Mr. Gold anymore. Doc told me I have to stay on bed rest maybe until the baby is born, and you can't be a maid if you can't get out of bed. I don't even know how I'm going to live for the next few months, much less how I would support the baby once it comes. I guess I could try to get on welfare, but I don't want to live on charity. I don't want my baby to grow up on charity. I want my baby to have everything she could ever want or need. And I want her to have a family, a real family, not just a mom. I can't even give her an extended family, seeing as my dad will have nothing to do with us." The words were spoken matter-of-factly, without rancor. "So, no, Ash, I really don't see any way I could do it."
"Poor Amy," Ashley said softly, reaching for her hand. Amy took it and squeezed it, not trusting herself to speak around the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat.
Ruby, as usual, went to the heart of the matter. "You're not going to be able to work anymore?"
Amy shook her head. "Doc was pretty clear. He said bed rest indefinitely, and possibly until I give birth."
"Oh shit," Ruby said forthrightly. "What are you going to do?"
"She's going to follow his orders to the letter," a voice said from the doorway—a voice with a Scottish lilt. "And if she's wondering where she's going to go, the answer is right back to my house, as soon as Dr. Dockery clears her to be released from here."
Mr. Gold entered the room seemingly oblivious to the astounded gazes of the three girls. He was as natty as ever, in a charcoal-gray suit today with a maroon shirt and maroon-and-gray striped tie. The only signs of the stress of the past couple of days were that his limp was slightly worse than usual, and also a tiredness in his eyes Amy doubted anyone else recognized. He leaned heavily on his cane, but under his free arm he carried a gift box.
"Amy, dear," he greeted. Pale as she was, dressed in a shapeless hospital gown, she was still a sight for sore eyes, he thought.
"Hi, Mr. Gold," she murmured, almost shyly.
Ruby, never known for tact, nonetheless possessed a small shred. She jumped up. "Ash, let's go down to the cafeteria and get something to drink," she said.
For once Ashley took the bait. "OK," she said agreeably, standing. "Here, Mr. Gold, take my chair." He slid into the chair with a barely audible sigh of relief and thanked her. The two girls hugged their friend, promised to return shortly, and made their exit. Their hasty retreat wasn't lost on either the girl in the hospital bed or the man in the chair.
They were alone for the first time in almost two full days. At first, it seemed neither of them knew what to say. They simply sat there gazing at one another. Each noted the fatigue in the other's eyes. He observed the dried tearstains on her cheeks, but also the tremulous smile that played about her mouth. He wanted so badly to reach out and cup her face in his hands, but refrained.
"How are you feeling?" he finally asked.
"I'm all right," she said. "A little sore, probably from laying in bed for so long. I'm sorry about your leg."
"Don't think anything of it, dear," he said. "It's better already."
"No it isn't," she stated. "I can tell. I know how it happened, too. You saved me, Mr. Gold. If you hadn't been there I could have died. And my baby definitely would have died. I'll never be able to repay you for that."
He couldn't stop himself then from laying a hand on her cheek briefly. "Amy," he told her, his eyes so dark, his face so serious, "don't ever think you have to repay me for that. No one else could have done any less."
His eyes were so intense she had to drop her gaze. "Still," she said quietly, "I'll always be thankful to you."
"I appreciate that, dear. But as I said, anyone would have done the same thing in my position." He hesitated a moment before adding, "Besides…I think it was my fault in the first place."
Amy's head jerked back up. She looked at him uncomprehendingly. "Your fault?" she repeated. "You mean, me going into preterm labor? Don't be silly, Mr. Gold. How could it have been your fault?"
"It's possible," he confessed. "I did some research…severe emotional stress can cause preterm labor. You were so distraught that night, and I could have prevented it just by making a phone call. You'd already been under a strain; with your young man abandoning you and your father…I can't shake the feeling that I pushed you over the edge, somehow."
She was shaking her head, no, no. "Mr. Gold," she said firmly, "I don't know what caused this to happen. No one does. Dr. Dockery said there are several different reasons it could have happened, and we may never know. But even if that was what caused it, you can't blame yourself. The important thing is that the baby and I are both all right. By the way, Doc told me it's a girl, just like I thought."
He smiled briefly at this news. A girl. That would be good information to have when he finally located the right set of parents. Quickly he sobered his expression again.
"Nevertheless, I do blame myself," he said. "And that's one of the reasons I want you to stay on at my home, even though you won't be able to work for the time being."
"Mr. Gold…" she began, and then trailed off. She didn't know what to say.
"I won't take no for an answer, Amy," he replied, and this time his was the firm voice. "And it's not just because I blame myself for what happened. Even if it had been something else that caused it, I would have wanted you to remain with me." With me? Damn, that wasn't what he'd meant to say. He'd meant to say at my home. Luckily she didn't appear to notice.
But she noticed. With him? she thought. He wants me to be with him? With a tremendous effort she managed to smother the delighted grin that threatened to break across her face.
"You've already been kicked too many times while you were down," he rushed on, "and I'm not going to join the club of brutes. And I do feel somewhat responsible for you, given that I'm your employer. But most of all, Amy…" He hesitated again. Should he say it? Should he reveal, not his deepest feelings, but some of his deeper ones? Yes, he finally decided.
"You've done so much more for me in the past few months than keep my house, Amy," he declared. "You've done an excellent job, don't get me wrong. But you've provided me with thought-provoking conversation; you've treated me with respect, but not with the fear everyone else in this town does. You've made that big old house a pleasant place to be. I never used to look forward to going home. I would even keep the shop open all hours of the day and night to avoid it. Now, though, I'm ready to close up every day." He paused, realizing he was perilously close to confessing his…whatever one would call the feelings he had for her. He concluded, "I never realized how lonely I was until you were there. I don't want to go back to that."
It wasn't the passionate declaration of love Amy had secretly hoped for, but it was enough. It was more than enough. He did care for her. She wasn't just an employee to him; she had brightened his life. Truth be told, he had done the same for her. She wanted to tell him so, but didn't think she could without going too far and confessing her feelings for him. So she simply said, "Well, if you're really sure…"
"I really am," he assured her, giving her another one of his rare genuine smiles. Amy wondered if anyone else in Storybrooke had ever seen his true smile, had seen the way it transformed his severe countenance into something that was almost handsome. She doubted it.
At that moment a Pink Lady tapped on the door, then came on in without waiting for a response. "Suppertime," she announced. Mr. Gold looked annoyed at the interruption. Amy was, too, until she realized the Pink Lady was wheeling a cart bearing a covered tray. Her stomach rumbled at the sight, and she suddenly realized that she was ravenous. She hadn't eaten since the beef stew and cookies nearly forty-eight hours earlier. They had been feeding her through an IV, she supposed, but intravenous fluids evidently did little to really sate one's hunger.
The rumbly in her tumbly died as soon as she got a look at the contents of the tray, though. She lifted the lid eagerly, only to be greeted with the sight of a chicken breast that had been boiled until it was an unpleasant shade of gray. The sides were no better: a scoop of white rice and a serving of peas and carrots, the only two vegetables she truly hated. There wasn't even a roll. Well, maybe dessert would be better, she thought as she peeled the plastic wrap back from the small bowl beside the tray. Alas, she was disappointed. The food on her tray, unappetizing as it was, was at least recognizable; she didn't even want to hazard a guess as to the yellowish goo filling the bowl.
"Looks like pudding," Mr. Gold commented. "Vanilla, maybe…or banana…or lemon," he finished lamely. He could tell Amy was less than thrilled with what was to be her first real meal in two days. Truth be told, he was rather underwhelmed himself. Hospital food. He had heard all the jokes about it, but had fortunately never had to experience it for himself. Looking at the contents of Amy's tray, though, he could see that the jokes had more than a grain of truth in them.
Once again, someone entered the room without being invited. Once again, Mr. Gold was irritated by the interruption, but quickly hid it at the expression of delight on Amy's face. The visitor was none other than Mrs. "Granny" Woods, and she was carrying—oh joy! Oh, celestial choirs!—a thermal bag with a couple of small containers balanced on top.
"My God," she exclaimed as she took in the contents of Amy's supper tray, "How to they expect anyone to get better in this place eating that pig slop?" The hospital food was unceremoniously pushed aside as Granny laid the thermal bag on the cart.
Amy was much happier with the contents of the bag: a compartmented plate containing Granny's special pot roast with gravy, mashed potatoes, and green beans, with not one, not two, but three of Granny's famous yeast rolls. Granny opened one of the containers to reveal a fresh salad containing the mixed greens, cherry tomatoes and mushrooms Amy loved, topped with a generous helping of ranch dressing.
"Doc said no blue cheese, honey, sorry," she announced to the happily thunderstruck girl in the hospital bed. "He approved everything else, though, so you go ahead and eat up." Amy needed no further encouragement. Tearing open the bag of utensils the hospital had provided, she dug in.
Mr. Gold was actually happy to see Granny, too, though not exactly for the same reasons Amy was—though he did appreciate her bringing the girl something to eat that was both nutritious and tasty. There were some matters he wanted to discuss with her.
"Mrs. Woods," he said, getting to his feet, "might I have a word with you in the hallway?"
Granny looked none too pleased at this prospect, but she nodded. Mr. Gold bent and pressed a quick kiss to the top of Amy's head, surprising them all. "Enjoy your dinner, dear. Mrs. Woods and I will just be a minute." He laid the gift box on the chair he had just vacated. "I probably won't be back tonight. I have a few…matters to attend to, and now that you're out of danger I could use a good night's sleep. The cot in the on-call room is rather uncomfortable. I'll be back first thing in the morning, though. They'll probably allow you to have a bath after supper; you can change into what's in the box then, if you like." Before Amy could do more than gape at him he was gone, Mrs. Woods close behind him.
Amy strained to hear the conversation that was going on in the hall, to no avail; they had left the door slightly ajar, but their words were whispered. She soon gave up and focused on the delicious meal Granny had brought her. She had cleaned her plate and was starting on dessert (the other container Granny had brought, which was a banana pudding that was infinitely more pleasing to the eye and mouth than the yellow goop the hospital had dished out) when Granny finally came back in.
She looked…thunderstruck was the word that came to Amy's mind. "Well, I declare!" she proclaimed to the girl in the hospital bed gobbling up banana pudding. "I think that was the strangest thing that's happened since…well, since I can remember."
Amy looked up from her pudding. She was mildly surprised by Granny's expression, but not really alarmed. "What's the matter, Granny?" she asked before applying herself to the pudding with renewed vigor.
"That Mr. Gold," Granny said, shaking her head. "I swear I can't figure that man out."
Amy lost interest in her dessert. "Why? What'd he do?" For some reason her stomach began to do flip-flops. She wasn't sure why. After all, Mr. Gold had just reassured her that she had a place under his roof at least until her baby came. She didn't have anything to be worried about. But seeing the normally unflappable Granny look so flabbergasted was a rare occurrence. Could Mr. Gold have said something to her…threatened her even? Surely not. Why would he do that? Then again, who could tell why Mr. Gold did anything?
"He didn't say anything…ugly to you, did he?" Amy asked the older woman.
"Lord, no, child," Granny hastened to reassure her. "You know Mr. Gold. That isn't his way. I'll say that for him, I've never seen him be anything other than perfectly polite, even when he's takin' your last dollar or repossessin' everything you have. But…" The old woman trailed off.
Amy was reassured, but her curiosity was definitely piqued. "But what?" she pressed.
Granny smiled down at her. "You haven't changed a bit, have you? You always were a curious little thing. It always surprised me, you bein' such a shy, quiet little girl. I always had to keep my eye on you; there was never any tellin' what you'd be into next. Ruby, now, all I had to do was follow the sound of her voice. But you kept me on my toes." She reached down to stroke the cottony dark hair.
Amy smiled up at the woman she considered her adopted grandmother. "Guess I figured out early on that being the quiet one means you can get away with a lot more," she said. Granny chuckled. "But don't try to change the subject, Granny-Gran. What did Mr. Gold do?"
Granny frowned, but the expression was thoughtful rather than angry. "it was the strangest thing," she repeated. "He was polite, like he always is…but this time it seemed…sincere. You know what I mean?" Amy nodded. "He thanked me for bringing you something decent to eat, and it really seemed like he meant it. Then he asked me if I would consider allowing Ruby to stay with you during the day while he's at his shop. I told him I'd be glad to do that, of course, but that I really need her at the diner. Then he proposed that Ruby and Ashley take turns staying with you; one could work the diner while the other was with you. I told him that would be fine, but that I couldn't afford to pay Ashley, and I know she needs the money; she's barely scraping by as it is. So he told me not to worry about making any payments on the inn or the diner until you have your baby. 'You can pay Ashley's salary out of that, can't you?' he asked. Of course, I can. If I don't have to pay on the inn, either, I can even afford to give Ruby a little something. I've always wished I could, you know, but after paying the bills and making my payments to him there was never anything left over. 'Mr. Gold,' I told him, 'that would work out fine until after Amy's baby comes, but what then? I'll be behind on my payments to you, and I don't know as I'll ever be able to catch up.
"Then he said, 'You won't have to repay me for the payments you don't make while Ruby and Ashley are staying with Amy. We'll consider them looking after her as your payments for those months.' Well, I nearly dropped my teeth when he said that, let me tell you! It all sounded too good to be true. I'd have been worrying about you all day, knowing you were all alone in that big house on bed rest…Mr. Gold told me about that. I know Ashley and that granddaughter of mine would have been worrying all the time, too. But this way, somebody will be with you all the time.
"You know me, though. I've never trusted that man. Never will, either, to be honest. So I said, 'Mr. Gold, this sounds like a perfect arrangement, but I have to ask you, why? Why are you doing all this for Amy? Forgive me, sir, but you're not exactly known for your generosity.'" She had no way of knowing that was practically the same thing Amy had asked him upon their first meeting.
"What did he say then?" Amy asked.
"Well, he got the oddest look on his face. I guess you'd call it a tender look, though I didn't know what to call it at the time. It's certainly a look I'd never seen on his face before. Then he kind of…shut it off. 'Mrs. Woods,' he said, 'I'm not in the habit of discussing my reasoning behind my decisions. Suffice it to say that the girl in that room has been kicked while she was down too may times, and I'm not going to be another one who does that to her.' That was good enough for me, so I agreed to his terms. We shook on it. Then he handed me back the money I gave him just yesterday, and he said, 'Good evening, dear,' like he usually does when he comes by to collect, and he left." Granny concluded, "Now have you ever heard the beat of that?"
Amy shook her head. "No," she said slowly. "No, I never have." Her brain was working overtime at this latest development. She had been surprised but pleased when Mr. Gold had insisted she stay at his house even though she could no longer work for him; but she never would have expected him to go this far. Why was he being so generous with her? There had to be a reason beyond those he had given her. For the first time, Amy truly comprehended that she was quite possibly in a situation way over her head. It was well known that Mr. Gold never did anything for anyone without expecting something in return.
The question was, what would he expect from her?
Amy's hands flew of their own accord to protectively cover the mound of her belly. Even as they did so, she berated herself. Not her baby, that was certain. He had hardly even mentioned the baby after their first evening together, beyond occasionally asking how she was feeling. And what would a fortysomething bachelor possibly wan with an infant, anyway?
In the back of her mind she heard Ruby: He's going to sell your baby to the highest bidder. A chill ran through her at the remembered words. Resolutely she pushed them, and the thought, out of her mind. That was a terrible thing to think of Mr. Gold, especially after he had been so kind to her. Maybe, just maybe he was doing all this for her out of the kindness of his heart. She was being no better than the rest of Storybrooke, assigning ulterior motives to the man with no good reason. She wouldn't allow herself to think any more of those thoughts.
But deep in her heart, the first small seed of doubt was planted.
…
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully enough. Ruby and Ashley returned, and were delighted to hear of the arrangement Granny had made with Mr. Gold. Ruby was pleased to get to spend more time with her best friend, and also less time at the diner. And she was ecstatic that they wouldn't have to make any payments to Mr. Gold for the next few months.
Ashley, too, was pleased that she would be able to spend time with her friend. Maybe, she thought to herself, she could talk to Amy some more about keeping the baby. She knew her friend really wanted to keep her child, no matter what brave face she was putting on. Maybe she could convince her that it was worth the risk. If they talked about it enough, maybe they would figure out a way for her to survive as a single mother. Smart as Amy was, Ashley knew if there was a way she would figure it out eventually. Ashley realized her friends thought of her as the stereotypical dumb blonde, and in some ways she was, but when it came to matters of the heart she was wiser than either of them.
Granny insisted that both the girls stay the night with Amy. Ruby protested a bit; she knew things could get rowdy at night when the diner became a bar. Granny assured her she could handle it. She doubted her two unruliest patrons (Leroy and Dr. Whale) would be showing their faces that night, anyway. Ruby finally acquiesced, and two cots were brought to Amy's room.
Doc paid another visit, and when Amy begged he agreed that she could take a quick shower. She knew they had been sponge-bathing her, but she still felt grungy. And she knew her hair must be a grease pit. Ashley and Ruby said they'd help so none of the nurses would have to take time from their schedules (Storybrooke General was notoriously understaffed), though of course they would call for help if anything should happen.
Nothing did, though. Amy felt completely rejuvenated after her shower. Honestly, she felt as well as she had during her entire pregnancy. She couldn't believe she was going to have to spend the foreseeable future in bed; she knew she'd be stir crazy in a matter of days. But she knew, too, that she would do it. If it was the best thing for her baby, she would make herself do it. The baby's safety was the only thing that mattered.
The gift box Mr. Gold had brought turned out to contain a beautiful pale-blue satin nightie with a matching bed jacket. It was short, but loose and floaty, and accommodated her expanded stomach easily. There was a note with it that read simply, I figured you already had enough flowers. Amy wished Mr. Gold was there to see how nice his gift looked on her. "It matches your eyes," Ruby and Ashley said. But he'd be back in the morning; he would see her in it then.
After the shower, the Terror Trio (as they had nicknamed themselves years ago) settled in just like it was one of their slumber parties from middle school, giggling about everything under the sun and groaning when Ashley insisted on watching Gossip Girl. It was well past midnight when they all finally drifted off to sleep.
…
Love was over, and they were simply lying there entwined in each other's arms. She enjoyed these times; they didn't happen very often. It was rare when the man—for indeed he was a man, or had been—could contain his restless, almost manic energy long enough to simply lie still and drift in the moment. But tonight he seemed content to lie there with her, holding and caressing her, trailing one golden nail across her gently swelling belly.
"You're beautiful," he told her. She was struck by the gentleness of his tone, and by his eyes. Instead of the half-crazed yellow orbs she had come to know, they were a warm golden brown, and for the moment at least, utterly human.
"So are you," she told him. He looked deeply into her eyes when she said this, not truly believing she could find him so. But nothing was reflected there except honesty and love. She didn't see him as the rest of the world did, he realized. When she looked at him she saw the man he had once been…the man he was starting to think he still might be, deep down. To her, he was beautiful.
He loved her for this, and for countless other things. it had been so long since he had felt this way. He had nearly forgotten what it was like to feel this way. He hoped that soon, he'd be able to tell her this. He hoped that this love he felt would be enough to keep him sane.
He continued to caress the small mound of her abdomen. "Can you see the baby?" she asked him sleepily. "Is it healthy? Is it developing normally? Do you know what it is?"
He closed his eyes as if deep in thought and rested both hands on her belly. For a long time he didn't speak. She was beginning to grow apprehensive when he finally answered.
"Yes, yes, and yes," he said. "The baby is perfectly fine…and it's a girl."
She squealed and threw her arms around him. "I knew it!" she exclaimed joyfully. "A little girl…a daughter I can name after my mother, just as I've always wanted."
He laughed at her enthusiasm. "I'm going to be outnumbered pretty soon," he said. "A house full of women…I'd go out of my mind, if I wasn't already."
She giggled. "You're not out of your mind," she told him. "Crazy like a fox, that's what you are."
She lifted her head to kiss him. Their kiss was slow, tender, unlike most of the kisses they had shared. This night was unlike most they had shared, in point of fact. He was not one for long, drawn-out lovemaking. Which was not to say he wasn't passionate; he was very much so, and quite…inventive. She had never been aware of all the ways there were to give and receive pleasure until he had begun to teach them to her. The fact that she was carrying another man's child appeared to bother him not one bit. Then again, he knew the man was of no importance to her now, that the only thing he had ever done for her was plant the child that kicked now in her belly. Since the moment she had laid eyes on him, she had been, only and always, his. Even though she hadn't realized it right off.
"Rumple," she murmured against his lips as he moved to take her again. Before much more time passed, she was screaming it aloud.
…
"Damn, woman, wake up the whole hospital, why don't you?" Ruby exclaimed.
Amy woke with a start. "What…what?" she stammered, unable to recognize her surroundings for a moment.
"You were thrashing round and yelling loud enough to break the windows," Ruby told her, sitting up in her cot. "I bet you even woke up that coma guy down the hall. What the hell were you dreaming about? you kept saying something like 'Rumble…rumble.'"
Amy shook her head. The dream was already fading from her mind, but she recalled enough of it to know that she definitely didn't want to tell Ruby about it. If Ruby knew she was having sexy dreams about Mr. Gold—or some version of him, anyway—God! She'd never hear the end of it.
"I don't remember," she lied. "'Rumble'? I must have been dreaming about West Side Story or something." It was the only thing she could think of on such short notice.
"Or World Championship Wrestling," Ruby said over a yawn. She was already falling asleep again. Ashley hadn't even stirred.
Amy giggled. "Go back to sleep, Rube," she said. "Sorry I woke you up."
"Don't worry about it," Ruby muttered as she rolled over. "Just don't do it again, though. I need my beauty sleep, you know." Within minutes she was snoring again.
But it was a long time before Amy went back to sleep.
Greetings, fellow OUAT fanatics! Sorry it's been such a long time between updates. I had a lot of distractions, some pleasant (Christmas, the Nook I received from Santa Claus) and some not-so (the usual family and workplace drama, a gnarly but short-lived stomach virus).
I know I said I would probably finish this before the episode revealing Rumple's backstory (four more days, woot woot!), but it didn't happen. Mea culpa, mea culpa. I've seen some spoilers, though, and I'm going to be able to work them into the story without changing my original idea too much. I've also settled on the ending…I think. (I may do what one of my reviewers suggested and post both possible endings, and then let the readers pick their fave.)
I'm sure most of you have figured out that Amy's "dreams" are actually memories of the fairytale world resurfacing. So was the preterm labor, in fact. There will be a few more flashbacks here and there, but it will be a while before the full story is revealed. I've managed to get rid of the Ashley/Cinderella pregnancy plot while keeping everything else in canon, at least so far (although I've heard rumors that Regina/Evil Queen is going to turn out be the miller's daughter, which if true will really send my story off into AU-land). I'm already at work on the next chapter, which will encompass most of what's already happened on the show. Henry and Emma will appear, too.
The usual disclaimer: I own only my OCs. And as usual, mad love and thanks to my readers and reviewers. There are a lot of really good OUAT fics popping up. I'm especially enjoying "Not Your Average Lion," by BObsessedryis (hope I spelled that right), "With Eyes Wide Open" by Hades'Queen, "To Carry On" by Black Hole Phoenix, "To Wish Upon A Moon" by Morbid DramaQueen10, and "In the Shadow of the Toll Bridge" by Nikstlitslepmur (love that name!) Check them out if you haven't already!
Off to bed now. Gotta be ready to face the world in the morning. Night, all!
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