A/N: Special kudos to RockAndAHardPlace (probably spelled that wrong somehow) for ... I dunno, everything my mind is coming up with makes her sound super-harsh, when she was actually quite nice. So I'll change gears and say thanks to 1945 for kicking my ass, sticking a shaft up it till it tickled my brain, sucking my organs out my navel with a straw, and writing (in the blood gained from aforementioned exercises) WRITE MORE SESSIONS, YOU PRAT.
Oh, shit. Left out the tar-and-feathering.
Still burns.
(Sad chapter, stop laughing or smiling politely)
(Get sad)
(Dead puppies)
(:D)
"Mr. Gold?"
The pawnbroker's jaw was clenched and a muscle was jumping in his cheek; he stared unblinkingly at the floor. Across the room from him, Archie sat back and cast his eyes about, looking for a new approach. His pen tapped the clipboard.
"It's just us now," he pointed out, scanning the empty room. "If it's privacy you're worried about –"
"My son," Gold said tightly, eyes bright and expression grim. Archie froze. "I let my son down."
Then he was closed off again.
"I didn't know you had a son," Archie managed. No response – Gold sunk further into a protective shell, the kind that surrounds angry, hurting people and makes them hunch. "Um – how did you let him down?"
Gold shook his head, just once. He didn't look up; he glared at the ground.
The clock counted down in silence.
"Mr. Gold," said Archie again, gentle. "Do you need to step outside?"
Gold lowered his head further, so that Archie couldn't even see his eyes, and then shook his head no.
"My son was in trouble," he said quietly, voice strained and fluctuating. "I got him out of it. And I changed when I did."
"For the worse?" asked Archie.
In a snarl, "Would I regret it if it were for the better?"
Silence.
"So you changed," said Archie. "You let him down. How?"
Silence. Gold sniffed once and finally looked up, turning red-rimmed, angry eyes toward the wall.
"Mr. Gold?"
"I lost him," said Gold shortly. "He may be dead. That's all."
And that was all Archie could get out of him.