This one's a pretty big chapter, are you ready for it?! Enjoy, my lovelies!
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"Miss French?" He called out as he first looked in the parlor and then in the living room. There was no trace of her. "For God's sake," he hissed under her breath, "Where is that woman?" His knee hurt abominably and the last thing he wanted to do was run around his large home looking for her.
Thankfully, her voice piped up from the direction of the dining room. "In here!" He limped through the living room and into the small dining area. He hadn't ever desired a very large room to dine in. It had always just been him anyway and he was not much of one for having company, so a small dining room suited his needs just fine.
He saw her in there. Her back was to him and she was dusting inside of his china cabinet. A good deal of dust was floating about the room. Lord knows, he hadn't dusted in there in...actually, he couldn't remember the last time he had. He smirked. This was why he had wanted her to be his housekeeper.
"How are you fairing, dearie?" Mr. Gold stood and watched her as she took out several of the old, antique objects and placed them on the table. He was glad that she was treating them with such respect. Her hands gingerly cradled each and every piece as if she was frightened that they would shatter in her hands. Most of them looked old enough to do so.
Belinda gave him a scowl and he had to suppress a grin. She looked absolutely displeased with him. "Ever heard of decluttering?"
"Now, why on earth would I want to get rid of these-" he picked one up and noticed just how useless it really was. He didn't even know where he had gotten it in the first place. "-trinkets?"
She smirked. "Mhmm. And have you ever heard of dusting?" She held up the rag in her hand and pointed to the cabinet. "Very simple. All you need is a cloth and some water, and you're good to go."
"That's why I have you, dearie," Mr. Gold pointed out and she just scoffed.
"Right."
She sounded displeased, but Mr. Gold had caught the faintest hint of a smile on her face as she had turned around. He didn't know what it was, whether it was the knowledge that she had actually smiled around him or if it was the knowledge that he noticed just how beautiful her smile was. Either way, he was growing uncomfortable with the silence and he turned back around. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."
He didn't get far, however. He hadn't even stepped foot into the living room when he heard a sound come from the woman. It sounded like a gasp and a squeal all in one. Mr. Gold turned back around in curiosity and saw that she was holding a trinket that was covered in dust. The moment she dusted it all off, he saw the clean white porcelain in her hand. It was a china cup with blue flowers painted all along the edge. It was delicate to say the least and her eyes sparkled at the sight.
"Now what would a man like you be doing with something like this?"
"What do you mean 'a man like me'?" He asked with humor.
Belinda pointed a finger at all of the other objects he owned and then back at the cup in her hand. "Look at it all. The rest of this stuff is crap! -no offense-" she added with a blush. "This is just beautiful."
"It's just a cup."
"I know," Belinda furrowed her brow then, "I wonder why I feel like it's so special." She shook the thought away and then look closer. "Why is it chipped?"
Mr. Gold frowned and came closer. "What do you mean?"
Belinda held the cup out to him so that he could see. True to her word, there was a small piece of the cup missing from the rim. "It's a chipped cup."
He shrugged. "Must've dropped it." But suddenly, he felt strange. He felt slightly dizzy and his vision was going dark...
0o0o0o0o0o
Little did he know that at that moment, while the rest of Storybrooke was blanketed in the beginnings of night, and the sky was black and empty of stars, someone new was entering the town. Nobody ever came to Storybrooke. But tonight was different. Tonight someone drove up.
Someone driving a yellow bug.
0o0o0o0o0o
"Mr. Gold, are you alright?" He opened his eyes and found that he was looking into the face of Belinda French. She looked worried, her eyebrows were furrowed, and her hands were on his shoulders as if she was steadying him.
"Yeah," he began in confusion, "I must've blacked out and-" the darkness came again and then he was somewhere else. He was in a dark castle. It was large and ominous. The curtains shut out any light. He was there and he was sitting in a large, thronelike chair at the head of the dining room table. Only...it wasn't really him. He was covered in a scale-like skin and speckled with gold. His hair was lanky. The creature was hideous. His head hurt as a flash of light blurred the scene and now he was looking at Belinda. She was dressed in a gold ball gown, with sleeves that came off the shoulders. Her hair was curled and styled and in her hands was the very same chipped cup.
I'm sorry. It's chipped.
It's chipped...
It's chipped...
It's...
"Mr. Gold!" He looked back at her again and the blackness cleared. But his head hurt. What the hell had that been?! Belinda looked as pale as a sheet too. "That's it. I'm calling an ambulance." She reached into her back pocket to grab her phone, but he stopped her with a wave of his hand.
"It's passed, dearie."
"But-"
"I said it passed," he snapped and she frowned. Nevertheless, she shoved the phone back into her pocket. He pasted on a smile. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. I don't know what came over me." No idea at all.
Belinda gave him a comforting smile. "Are you sure?" She helped him to stand to his full height as he nodded.
"Very. What's the time?"
Belinda cocked her head so that she could look at the clock in the kitchen. "Fifteen minutes to nine."
"Well," he exhaled and walked out of her reach, stopping and picking up his cane as he did so. "I'll be heading over to that establishment they call a bed and breakfast. I have something I have to attend to." Perhaps terrorizing other people would make him feel better. Not that he terrified them, Mr. Gold reasoned. He just made them feel uncomfortable. Granny was a strong and spunky woman, but he always delighted in watching her squirm when he asked for the required rent money.
He doubted that Belinda would object, but she surprised him. How could this woman have so much nerve around him so as to ask him if he was sure? But she did. "Maybe you should take a few minutes and sit down."
"I'm fine," he tried to control his temper by gritting his teeth. He turned to walk away.
"Are you sure you should be driving right now?" Belinda called after him. "What if it happens again?"
He swiveled on his heel and looked at her with a frown. "As comforting as it is to see you care about my present state of health," she blushed, "It really is not needed. Thank you."
"But Mr. Gold-"
He sighed wearily. She was really starting to get on his nerves. "You are dismissed for the evening, Miss French. After all, don't you have a child you should be picking up?"
Belinda's eyes widened as if she had just remembered. "Oh, yes!" She exclaimed. "I'm late." She laid down her rag. "I promise I'll finish all of this tomorrow," she said as she pointed at all of the knick-knacks that were still left on his table. The china cabinet was empty, albeit clean. She nodded her head in a farewell as she walked past him and towards the door. She wrapped her scarf around herself and then put on her mittens and her coat. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" She asked him again and he nodded his head.
"Never fear, dearie. I'll be fine." As he watched her dress he remembered how cold it was going to be out there. And she would have to walk home in the freezing chill of the late fall weather. Mr. Gold's conscience started to prickle and he knew that he was going to regret asking, but he did anyway. "Would you like a ride home?"
She stopped and stared at him in surprise. "You would drive me home?" The shock in her voice was enough to make him smirk.
"I may be your employer, Miss French, but I'm still a gentleman."
"Oh," she responded before she found a smile, "Then, yes, if it's not too much trouble?"
He shook his head. "No trouble at all." Why was he saying this? He should just let her walk home in the cold. He had no obligation to her. "I have to pass the diner on my way to the bed and breakfast anyway." He saw the sparkle of curiosity in her eye and knew she wanted to ask why he was going there, but he was grateful that she kept quiet and still had some propriety left.
She opened the door and walked into the frigid night. Mr. Gold grabbed his coat and put it over his shoulders, and then he limped out and followed her.
0o0o0o0o0o
Mr. Gold had dropped Belinda off at the diner and had felt a little disappointed at the absence of some form of company. But more than disappointment, he felt relief. All the ride to the diner, his mind had been occupied with those visions he had had when he had blacked out. Well, he couldn't say visions. More like dreams. But what could have possibly brought them on at a time like that?
His mind had been distracted the entire ride. If Belinda had said anything to him, he hadn't heard her. He had been too focused on the picture of her in that exquisite ball gown to even notice the woman sitting next to him.
It was when Mr. Gold almost drove into the picket fence of Granny's B&B that he decided it would be best to just forget the incident entirely. It couldn't really have meant anything, right? But he still felt as if there was something missing, something he had forgotten to say or do, and he just couldn't remember what it was.
He opened the door of his sedan and walked out onto the faded brick path leading up to the inn. It was no surprise that the place looked old and worn. No one ever came to Storybrooke. It was a wonder to him how Granny could still be able to make her monthly payments. Of course, the diner did seem to bring in quite a bit of income. Lucky for her. He smirked.
Pushing any troublesome thoughts aside, his hand grabbed the handle of the door and gave it a quick turn. He pushed it in only slightly, but stopped when he heard voices. One obviously belonged to the cantankerous old woman who owned the not-so-fine establishment. The second, however, he didn't recognize. His brows furrowed in confusion. Mr. Gold knew everybody, he made it a point to know everybody, so who was this newcomer. He stayed there, behind the door, and listened in a little longer.
"...Normally there's an upgrade fee for the square, but as the rent is due I'll wave it," he heard Granny say a bit too enthusiastically.
"Square is fine," the new woman spoke.
"Now. What's the name?"
Gold's ears perked up as he waited to hear the answer. Who the hell was she? "Swan." The woman replied. "Emma Swan."
Emma.
His vision blurred, but his mind did not black out this time. He remained standing upright. He was in the present, but he felt his thoughts being transferred to the past. Scenes began to play, much like they had a little while ago. They started out dark, but became brighter and brighter. These were not dreams. They were memories. One by one filtering into his head.
The war...The town coward...Becoming the Dark One...Losing Bae...Regina...Belle...The castle...The baby...Prince Charming and Snow White...His apothecary...Making the curse...The constant...The constant...
.THE.
.CONSTANT.
.WAS.
.EMMA.
Mr. Gold opened his eyes and gasped. He wasn't Mr. Gold anymore. He knew who he was. He was Rumpelstiltskin. The Dark One. The curse had worked. It had actually worked. It had sent them to this new world, and now he remembered everything.
Without thinking, he leaned on the door and it opened wide to reveal the back of a blonde-headed woman in a red leather jacket.
"Emma?" He couldn't help but breathe out, and she turned around in confusion. He plastered on a smile, though his entire body was quivering. "What a wonderful name."