"Must I do this?" Rumpel whispered anxiously to his wife.

He stared out at the sea of familiar faces and felt a cold sweat mask his forehead. He was never good at this sort of thing, even if wordplay was his strong point. Under the table, their hands laced together. From Emma's touch, he drew strength.

"It would be the right thing to do," she whispered back. Rumpel knew there was really only one answer she would accept. This was her way of making him think it was his choice.

"I despise the logic you and your parents share," he grumbled. Truthfully, he admired people like Emma, the Charmings, and Belle for always being able to do the right thing when the time called for it. Not only that, but they saw the good in others, even if it was scarce, and they brought that goodness into the light. It was a different sort of manipulation that he wasn't used to practicing himself.

And it often worked.

Sighing in defeat, he rose from his seat at the head of the table and cleared his throat, trying to catch the attention of the guests. A few heads turned, but the scraping of silverware and jolly conversation continued. The babies kept mashing their food without a care in the world, getting more of it on their mouths than in. Rumpel glanced uncertainly down at Emma, but she waved her hand, ushering him onward.

Picking up his wine glass, he tapped his fork against it. When the conversation quieted to a dull roar and all eyes inevitably landed on him, he grew nervous again and smashed the fork too hard against the glass, hard enough to crack it. With an unspoken curse, he set it on the table before more damage could be done with his fumbling hands.

He looked around at the faces once more, mentally taking note of the ones that appeared less than patient with him. Bae, Ariel, Jefferson, Belle, the Charmings. Grace and Henry were too busy sharing secrets at their end of the table. Archie and Red were there, hands clasped together, but they hadn't been there for the worst of it.

Too bad. He'd have loved to watch Zelena take on a fully-grown hormonal wolf.

"Thank you for joining us here this evening," he started hesitantly. The thought of so many people in his castle still made him flustered. "I consider it a kindness, especially since I am not on the best of terms with all of you. I have recently done something that many of you may consider foolish or even harmful to the ones I love most in this world. I did it with the best intentions, for protecting my family. For that reason, I can't say I regret it. However, I do have one or two things to be apologize for. First, I wish to apologize to my wife."

He spread his hand toward Emma.

"For?" Emma pushed him. She wasn't going to make this easy.

"For," he echoed, "leaving her in the middle of the night, even if it was on a quest to regain my magic in order to subdue the witch that tried to tear apart our family. Not only that, but I promised her we would work through it together and I broke that promise as soon as I made it. I am eternally sorry. From now on, I give my word that we shall conquer every battle together and be grateful for what we have after all is said and done."

She bowed her golden head to show she accepted his apology. Then her green eyes darted to their guests and back, warning him to keep going.

"Second, I wish to apologize to Jefferson for showing up at his castle so late and so unexpectedly. I should have written first," he quipped. No one, least of all Jefferson, laughed. "Next-"

"And?" Jefferson cut him off. He was far too smug as he folded his hands on the table ever so neatly and waited. Rumpel narrowed his eyes venemously. Of course he had no choice but to consent, with everyone watching him so closely.

"And for knocking him unconscious via magic. Oh, and for painting his face with the precious pie he was looking forward to cramming in his mouth. I'll buy you a year's worth of creme pies." That should satisfy the hatter. Moving on...

"I don't like your creme pies. I like Belle's creme pies. You used her creme pie to turn me into a happy clown," Jefferson objected. "And?" The hatter asked again.

"And," Rumpel growled, quickly losing his patience. "I'm sorry for stealing your hat so I could travel to Oz."

"And?"

"And...Jefferson is one of the few good friends I am fortunate to have," Rumpel admitted, praying it would be enough to cease this torment. It only made Jefferson grin like the Cheshire Cat. He was harder to please than the twins combined.

"And?"

"And will you stop?"

Rumpel finally got fed up to the point of smashing his glass on the table. Shards scattered the tabletop. Wine pooled over among the broken glass, the liquid bright as freshly spilt blood in the candlelight.

He had the urge to repair it with magic. He even let his hand hover over the shards, but he knew it would be poison to his spoken apologies. Plus, he swore only to use his magic now when absolutely necessary. If his loved ones were in imminent danger, for example. Fixing a broken wine glass did not seem so worthy of life and death.

Emma grabbed his other hand under the table and squeezed it to warn him not to give in to that urge. Everyone was watching, waiting to see if he would do it. Most of all, he was aware of his son's stare.

Rumpel looked directly to Bae and sensed the disappointment in his beautiful eyes. Then he deliberately let his hand fall away. The glass remained broken.

"As I was saying," Rumpel continued, struggling to regain his composure. He dismissed Jefferson in favor of Belle, who sat dutifully beside her husband, touching his hand tenderly. Even she seemed irritated and impatient with him, her pretty lips that once kissed him so gently now forming a troubled frown. He would give her a sincere apology, because he still regretted all he ever put her through.

"Belle, I am terribly sorry for harming Jefferson. You of all people do not deserve to lose another loved one. You have already given too much to fate. You always believed in me despite my darkness and saw the good in me when no one else-even me-could. For that, I am sorry for reverting to that dark being. In your name and those I love, I give my word that I will not let that dark curse control me again. I will use it for good measures."

He didn't expect Belle to forgive him. After all, she had lost enough without worrying about Jefferson's state, too. Not only had she lost the one she believed to be her true love to Emma, but she had also lost her father to Regina. Yet he was relieved when she started to smile appreciatively. It was like a ray of sunlight after a formidable storm.

"I am sorry, Bae, if I have disappointed you by returning to that darker side of me," he told his son. Bae's youthful brown eyes pleaded with him. "Last time I was the Dark One, someone...I shall not mention her name in this household-"

"Hem-hem...Regina," Jefferson pretended to cough into the crook of his elbow. He smiled innocently up at Rumpel and, with a flick of the wrist, gave him the signal to continue.

"Thank you, Jefferson," Rumpel stated through clenched teeth. The hatter was one step away from getting no dessert. "Anyhow, someone controlled me as the Dark One and it nearly cost my son's life. I shall never let that happen again, nor will I let any harm come to my family." He couldn't tell if Bae accepted that or not-he was too busy twirling a fork and burning holes into his plate.

"To Ariel," Rumpel addressed the red-haired mermaid sitting next to Bae. Soon she was to be his daughter-in-law. He supposed there were weirder things than having a fish attend family dinners. "I am sorry for taking your voice."

For some reason, Bae wasn't startled by that news.

"There's something I must confess, too," the mermaid said, biting her lower lip. "I sort of...may have...broke our deal. When I went home to Bae, I didn't feel right about not telling him. I couldn't sleep a wink. So I told him."

"You what?" Rumpel screeched. One of his constant pet peeves was a customer that couldn't keep their end of the deal. Emma laid her hand on his arm in warning. He restrained his anger. "Good to see that you and my son have such strong communication skills."

Ariel beamed. He turned away from the fish and to the end of the table, where Emma's parents sat close together. A long time ago, he simply assumed they were stitched at the hip.

"Finally, I am sorry, Snow, Charming, for causing your daughter undue stress and worry, and thus creating worry for you. I am sorry if I am not the knight in shining armor you might have dreamed up for your daughter. I am a man that makes mistakes time and again, but I vow not to make the same ones twice. All I can say in my defense is that I love Emma and I love my family dearly enough to protect them at whatever cost. If you wish to condemn me for it, so be it. At least I'll have the comfort of knowing that my family is safe."

He gladly sat back down, finished with his long list of apologies. Snow and Charming exchanged wary looks, then met the eyes of everyone around the table, specifically the ones that received an apology from Rumpel. It was Charming's turn to stand before them and Rumpel held his breath, wondering if he would be sentenced to the mines again. Emma wouldn't allow it.

"I think we speak for most when we say..." Here it is, Rumpel thought mournfully. My due punishment. A damp, dark cell under the earth, giggling for entertainment, feasting on maggot-infested remains..."We accept your apologies," Charming announced.

Rumpel let out the breath he was holding.

"No, we don't," Jefferson exclaimed.

"Quiet," Rumpel snapped, pointing a finger at Jefferson. The hatter pressed his back against the chair and his eyes boggled as he anticipated something gruesome. A zipper on the lips, his tongue ripped out, perhaps turned into a snail...but nothing happened. It was only a scare. "Now may we have dessert?"

This time when Rumpel pointed his finger, something did happen. The messy plates of food disappeared, replaced with fresh plates heaping with Belle's wonderful chocolate creme pie. He made sure Jefferson's was the thickest, frothiest slice on the table. Everyone eagerly dug in, all except Rumpel who was more concerned with picking his wife's brain.

"How did I do?" He inquired. Emma let him squirm for a minute, helping herself to a forkful of pie. She lapped it up nice and slowly, even teasing him with her tongue licking the cream off her lips.

"Hmm...not bad," she said. Rumpel fidegeted.

"The pie or my apologies?" This was a loaded question. If she meant both, then he was golden. He could enjoy his pie in peace. If she only meant the pie, though, it meant he would be in trouble later and he would never be able to stomach even a bite of pie. He crossed his fingers under the table for luck.

"Both," she decided. He sighed with relief. More than anything, he hated it when they retired to bed angry at each other. This way, some of the tension released from his muscles and he inhaled half of his pie in record time. Jefferson was right-Belle's pies were to die for.

Under the table, he felt a pair of legs crawl up his own right leg. He rolled his eyes and lifted the tablecloth to see Goldie begging for a morsel of dessert. He swiped his finger through the cream and let Goldie lick it up. She was safely home again after spending too much time away with Pongo.

It was a miracle she didn't have a truckload of puppies bounding behind her yet.

"Where were you when Zelena needed her curly top bitten off?" Goldie went on wagging her tail happily and begging for whipped cream.

...

For a boy of twelve, Henry was incredibly sensitive to tension long before hitting puberty. He had experienced enough tension with Regina to become familiar with it, even before Emma arrived in Storybrooke. He felt the tension between Rumpel and Bae at the dinner table that evening, even if everyone else shrugged it off.

Rumpel was more nervous than usual. It wasn't just the fact that he had a crowd of people in his castle. His hands trembled when he picked up his utensils and he was barely able to slice the meat on his plate. His gaze wandered back and forth between the broken glass and Bae. Throughout the entire meal, he seemed distracted by his thoughts.

To Henry, it appeared that Rumpel was afraid of slipping up and performing magic carelessly. He was trying to be on his best behavior, but it was hard to ignore his renewed magic. He knew Bae didn't feel comfortable with his father using magic, because of all the damage it had caused and might cause in the future.

Henry pretended to be invested in the multiple dinner conversations surrounding him on either side, but he deeply contemplated how to mend the bridge between Rumpel and Bae. He even voiced his concern to Grace, but her worry was mostly saved for her own father.

"You know why he likes sweets so much? It's because he could never afford them when we lived in our hovel. Now he's addicted to them, especially Belle's creme pie. I think he might tackle your father any minute," she whispered to Henry, bright eyes glued on the hatter. It looked like Belle was the only thing keeping him restrained from leaping over the table and attacking Rumpel. He had that mad glint in his eye.

After dessert that consisted of Belle's delicious creme pie, without anyone shoving it in Jefferson's face but himself, Henry helped clear the dining table. It was to encourage Rumpel not to rely on his magic, according to Emma. He exchanged warm hugs with Snow, Charming, Red, and Archie before they left the Dark Castle. Jefferson and Belle stuck around to spend more time with Emma and the twins.

Bae agreed to stay as well and Henry immediately seized the opportunity to catch Bae alone in the library. It was where Rumpel had done most of his magic in the form of bottled spells. Old vials still cluttered the worktable, gray dust creating a thick, filmy layer on the glass.

Bae lingered near the worktable, his fingers occasionally flicking a glass vial. His face was visibly strained. There was no sign of the open-minded curiosity Henry supposedly inherited.

"You know, there was a time where I was open to the possibility of using magic. Just once," Bae said without lifting his gaze to his son. His finger tipped a red bottle. It tilted precariously, on the verge of falling over, before spinning back into place. Bae finally met Henry's concerned eyes and urged him to come closer. "It was when I was a boy, not too much older than you are now. I wanted to help my father return to the man he was before the magic. I asked the Blue Fairy for help and she granted me the bean that would take me and my father to a land without magic, where we could live normal lives. That's when everything went to hell."

It wasn't the first time Henry heard parts of this story, but he figured Bae needed to get it off his chest. Bae turned away from the worktable and its bottled potions. His brown eyes scrolled over the gigantic shelves of books. How many of them were ancient spellbooks? How many centuries had Rumpel spent poring over them, searching for the answer to find his son?

"That's why you hate magic. It left you fatherless," Henry added. He knew Bae had forgiven Rumpel of those past mistakes, but those wounds would always be too deep to heal completely. Bae gently took Henry by the shoulders.

"There's the kind of magic, like Emma's magic, that is capable of bringing life and good things. It was born of the purest love. Then there is the dark, unforgiving magic that consumed my father. When he became the Dark One, I lost the kind, gentle father I loved all my life. He became someone I didn't recognize, someone whose intentions I couldn't predict. That frightened me more than anything. When I fell into the portal, when I felt his hand let go of mine, I felt like I lost him a second time. I spent months trying to survive in a world I didn't understand and I spent centuries frozen and alone in Neverland."

There was so much grief and bitterness in Bae's voice that it almost deepened into a growl. He didn't seem to notice when his grip increased on Henry's shoulders and Henry didn't complain.

"He's changed since then," Henry objected. "He fought back against the dagger to save you and Emma from Regina. And he only did what he felt was right to protect us again."

Bae nodded and released Henry.

"Deep down, I understand why he did it. I don't blame him for being afraid of losing us again. I just don't want him to revert to the way he was before. He said all he needed was us, not magic."

Henry realized that Bae was sinking further into disappointment and distraction over this grim situation. He needed to do something to preoccupy him. Henry sat down on Rumpel's stool by the spinning wheel and tried to look enthusiastic.

"Can you tell me about Neverland?" Bae blinked and emerged from his anxious trance. "Was Tinkerbell there? What was it like to fly?" Bae smiled weakly. He seemed to appreciate Henry's gesture in changing the subject. Leaning against the wheel, he thought back to those century-old memories. Very few of them were happy ones.

"Well...let's say Tinkerbell can be as sincere as Snow when she's in her takedown mode. She's just as deadly with a knife as Snow is with a bow. The first time we met, she nearly took my head off," he said and chuckled at the memory. He spent an hour hanging upside down from a tree in one of Tink's handmade traps. "As for flying, it was one of the best feelings in the world. Soaring over the land and sea, light as a feather...I felt free. You should try it sometime."

Henry planned to bombard Rumpel with that request one of these days. Wouldn't it be amazing to fly around the tower of the Dark Castle? Or swoop down over the Enchanted Forest?

"Of course," Bae continued, "in order to make pixie dust work, you need to believe in it and you need to think back to one of your happiest memories. Your soul needs to be light as a feather to fly. It's strange. The happiest memory I recalled was my father when he was still human, spinning and singing me to sleep when I was a boy."

Henry smiled at that. Rumpel might have seen himself as a coward in his human state, but Henry thought he sounded like a caring father whose only joy in the world was his son.

"Were there any mermaids? Or Lost Boys? What about Peter Pan?" Henry eagerly asked, edging forward on his seat. He had heard a story about Peter Pan when he was younger and he wondered if this one was any different.

"The mermaids aren't as polite as Ariel," Bae told him with a shudder. "They tend to drown humans. They really don't like human girls because they envy their legs. Rumor has it that if the human is a boy, they take him down to the depths of the sea to be tormented for eternity."

Suddenly Henry liked Ariel a lot more than he already did. He was glad Bae found her instead of one of the sirens that would drown him.

"The Lost Boys and Peter Pan go hand in hand. They're his followers, practically his slaves, and they're not as little as you might think. There was this one with a stick that was twice as big as me. Peter Pan isn't the good guy you might have heard about, either. He lures children to Neverland, children that feel unwanted. I was too busy hiding from him to ever figure out what he wanted with them."

One thousand questions sprang up in Henry's mind, specifically about Peter Pan. How could he be a villain when he was never depicted that dark in the tales he heard? What about the boy dressed in green garb that made friends with children and defeated Hook? Weren't Tinkerbell and he supposed to be thick as thieves?

Before he could unleash his torrent of questions, there was a small creak behind them.

"Bae."

...

The soft warning issued in his father's voice stopped him midstory. Both Henry and Bae turned their heads to witness Rumpel standing by the library stairs, shrouded in shadow. They never heard him climb those old stairs. Bae suspected his renewed magic had something to do with that.

Rumpel's dark eyes landed on Henry, who was sitting innocently by the wheel, and he forced a pleasant smile.

"Henry," he addressed his second son with equal affection. "Why don't you help your mother bathe the twins and put them to bed? Last I heard, the twins built a snowman out of suds." Henry glanced over at Bae, as though seeking permission to leave or perhaps an excuse to stay. When the silence stretched on, Henry obediently stood from the wheel.

"You know, if you two wanted to talk alone, you could always say so," he remarked and marched down the stairs, leaving Rumpel in astonishment. The boy was far more intuitive than he was given credit for.

Rumpel took a step toward his son. Bae turned his attention away to the wheel, lightly spinning it under his palm.

"I guess you overheard that story," Bae mumbled. Rumpel stepped further toward the pale light, but not enough to be embraced in its illumination. He mimicked Bae's gesture in placing a hand on the arch of the wheel, stopping its movement.

"I did," he admitted, hanging his head. It didn't matter how many times Bae insisted he forgave his father-there would forever be some weight of shame and guilt on his shoulders. Even now, Rumpel closed his eyes and his normally placid expression twisted in pain. "Why did you tell him that story?"

Bae withdrew his hand from the wheel and stuffied it deep in his pocket. There was a wall between them tonight.

"You regaining your power as the Dark One...it made me remember the last time you had magic and where it left me. I don't want this magic to go to your head again. I don't want you to leave Emma, Henry, and the girls in a worse place than you left me," he said with a heavy heart. He could tell by the pinch to his father's face that every word stung. Finally, Rumpel opened his eyes to behold his son, looking quite regretful.

"I won't make the same mistake. Emma and I will help each other to control our magic, just as we will help Isabelle cope with hers. I will use my magic only if absolutely necessary," he vowed, splaying his hands in the air.

Bae looked at his father's hands-human hands-only to remain suspicious about the magic that awaited at the tips of his fingers. He doubted his father would resist using his magic for long when it was so easy for him to be consumed by it. The temptation would always be there.

"How exactly will you do that? When you became the Dark One, you used magic for everything, big and small, because that was the easiest thing to do. What's stopping you now? Is Emma going to kick you out of your bed every time you slip and rely on magic?"

Rumpel's expression turned grave.

"You're right, Bae. You have always been. It's easy to succumb to magic, hard to resist it. I know I will have to try or I will lose someone else I care for. That is why...I want to give you this."

Rumpel reached into his vest and pulled out a shiny, slender object. Even without bringing it into the light, it was impossible for Bae not to recognize the dagger when it had been linked to his father's curse since the beginning. Rumpel's fingers held the dagger by the tip of the blade and the very end of the handle, presenting it to Bae with his name clearly visible on the blade.

Up until then, Bae sincerely hoped it wasn't true that his father was the Dark One again, that there was another explanation for his magic, but the proof was there under his nose.

"Papa..." He moaned. Try as he might, he couldn't rip his eyes from the dagger. How was he supposed to explain to his father that he didn't want anything to do with it? But his father's eyes pleaded with him.

"Bae, please. Do me this one favor and take it. Before the influence of the Dark One can prevent me from parting with it. Carry it far away from here. Bury it deep within the soil of our homeland, where even I will not reach it. I would have handed it over to Emma, but with it being so close, I might not be able to resist taking it back. Every one of my remaining enemies will search for it and they will most likely start here, not in the village where I was once labeled a coward."

He held the dagger out, inviting Bae to take it. Bae's fingers reluctantly wrapped around the handle and he relinquished it from his father's possession. Once it was free of Rumpel's hands, the air around his body shimmered as the power of the dagger was transferred to Bae.

It's for his own good, he thought, but it made him sick to his stomach to be in control of his own father.

"Mind if I test it out?" His father thrived on wordplay and clever tricks. He could easily supply a fake dagger to ease Bae's worries about his use of magic. He wasn't taking chances.

Rumpel geuninely looked hurt.

"You think I would deceive you by giving you a fake dagger?" Bae shrugged apologetically. It sounded like something Rumpelstiltskin, the trickster, would do. He kept a firm grip on the dagger.

"You're practically an addict, Papa," Bae pointed out. "Would you trust a raging alcoholic to surrender every ounce of his booze when he promises to go to rehab?" Rumpel scrunched his nose. Apparently he didn't enjoy being compared to an alcoholic, but it was true that magic was one of his vulnerabilities. He waved Bae on impatiently.

"Do what you have to do, then," he barked, bracing himself for the worst. Bae considered his options. He needed to prove that his father was under the influence of the dagger in his hand. Should he command him to take a step forward? No, that was too simple. Should he command him to spin straw into gold this instant? No, it had to be something his father wouldn't naturally do, something that wouldn't harm him...

"Um...alright...Dark One...I command you to...put your right foot in." Rumpel's leg instantly jerked forward, much to his dismay. "Now put your right foot out." Rumpel drew his leg back. Bae couldn't help but bite his tongue to quell his laughter. No one had ever witnessed the Dark One do the Hokey-Pokey before. "Now put your right foot in and shake it all about."

Back and forth Rumpel swayed, looking like a very disgruntled man all the while. He wiggled his foot in the air and almost fell over from losing his balance.

"Bae, this isn't amusing," his father complained, still wiggling his ankle. Bae never gave the command to stop, so he was forced to dance on.

"Depends on your perspective," Bae replied, his voice cracking with a giggle. Rumpel scowled and gripped the edge of the wheel to keep his balance while his leg shook.

"What will you have me do next? The Macarena?" Bae figured his father had given him enough proof of the dagger's power. He ordered him to stop and Rumpel slumped against the wheel, breathless from the exertion. Bae slid the dagger into his coat, for safekeeping.

"Sorry, Papa. I just needed to know you were serious about handing me the dagger," he explained and reached out to take his father's hand. Rumpel nodded once, understandingly. If the tables were turned, he would have done the same. "I'll hide the dagger. I'll make sure no one finds it. And about that story...it was only a way for me to vent. Just because I forgive you doesn't mean I can forget it ever happened."

"So tell me," his father suggested. Bae was surprised by the gesture. How long had it been since he truly opened up to his father? How long had it been since he spoke to that human side of him and not the Dark One? He felt like a boy again, turning to his gentle father for silent support.

"Okay," he agreed. His hand grazed the wheel again. "Can you spin while I talk? I miss that." He missed the rhythmic creaking of the wheel while his father listened patiently to every word he said. Rumpel smiled and sat down at the wheel.

"Of course." He started to spin. In no time at all, Bae began to see the straw glimmer as it pooled into gold. That wasn't exactly what he meant.

"Can you spin...like you used to?" The wheel stopped.

"Without the gold?" Bae nodded. "You miss the life we had," his father mused. Bae sank down onto a stool and shrugged.

"It's nothing new. I missed it ever since things changed. Sorry." It was a painful memory to linger over. Slowly the wheel started to spin again, but the straw did not glimmer with gold. Bae's nerves were soothed by the creaking of the wheel, just as he had been when he was a boy.

"It's alright," Rumpel assured him. "I'll spin like I used to. You're comfortable? Living in our old village?" Bae knew the purpose of this inquiry was to make sure he was happy.

"Yes," he said confidently. He was able to build a normal, stable life with Ariel in the part of the Enchanted Forest he knew best. "That's the home I remember. Not castles, carriages, and dining tables that require you to shout to have someone pass the salt." Rumpel chuckled at that. The tension around them was beginning to ease. "About that story..."

Bae told him everything while his father quietly spun at the wheel. He told him about passing through the portal, about wandering the streets in a world without magic, of Neverland and Pan and being homesick. Rumpel never interrupted, though his face darkened more than once. Bae talked until there was nothing left to say.

Until there was nothing left but the creaking of the wheel.

...