He has a daughter.
And Belle is waiting for them to come home.
The moments immediately following their realization were spent in silence, apart from shaky breaths and the occasional sniffle. Rumples mind was spinning. There were so many things he wanted to ask her. About Belle, about herself, about their life; but he had to start somewhere.
"So…you're my…my uh…" In his nearly 300 year he had amassed quite the vocabulary, and yet, he couldn't find the word. Offspring? Spawn? Progenitor?
"Daughter?"
Was that a hint of snark? "Right, yes…Daughter." He hadn't meant to flinch at the last part, he really hadn't. But he certainly wasn't expecting to find out he had a daughter on his way home from work.
"You don't sound very happy about that," Jane muttered, turning her gaze back to the seat across from her.
"No! No. I am happy." He paused, taking a deep breath and turning toward Jane. "But you have to understand this is a bit of a shock. Less than five minutes ago I found out I have…a daughter" This time he didn't flinch at the word. Quite the contrary, he smiled. "I'm a father," he breathed, not so much for Jane's benefit as much as to convince himself. "You're my daughter." He smiled again, this time letting it reach his eyes, and cautiously covered her small hand with his larger one.
"Yeah…I am." She smiled at their hands.
Rumple jumped slightly when she let out a small chuckle, and looked up to see new tears forming in her eyes. "Jane?"
"Sorry sorry…" she mumbled, hastily wiping her eyes –and her makeup- with the back of her free hand. "It's just that when I was little I used to see other kids holding their dad's hand…I always wondered what that was like." A few more tears formed, but she didn't wipe them away, instead she smiled and let them roll off her cheeks.
Happy tears. He realized when she looked up from their hands and smiled again.
Rumple looked down at his cane. He had missed watching his child grow up, again.
"I'm sorry. Gods I'm so, so sorry I wasn't there I-" There was that lump in his throat again, threatening to stop him from saying what needed to be said; but he furrowed his brow and continued. "It's my fault you grew up without a father. I wish I could have been there to hold your hand…to be your father." He closed his eyes to stop another wave of tears to break free.
"You didn't even know I existed," she reassured.
"Still…" his eyes were trained on his cane again, he briefly imagined burning the blasted thing with a burst of magic, but he quickly shook the thought from his mind. Don't even think like that. Magic is what got me here in the first place. Magic is why I lost Be-
Rumple was shaken from his thoughts as the subway –which he had at this point completely forgotten about- came to a halt.
"Oh." Was all he said. Wait. She's going to have to stay with me. Will she want to stay with me? I'm certainly not letting her go off into New York in the middle of the night!
"Well…I guess I'm staying with you then?" Jane asked hopefully, breaking his train of thought. Is that weird? Should I have said that? What if he doesn't want me to stay with him? I've only known him for like 10 minutes. I know he's not dangerous but- Oh god this is conflicting.
"Only if you're comfortable with it of course…I won't have you wandering around New York in the middle of the night. If you don't want to stay with me I'm sure we can find a motel room, or a hotel if you'd rather that, or-" He was babbling. Since when does Rumplestiltskin babble? He thought bitterly. I guess since he found out he has a daughter. Gods…I have a daughter.
"As long as you're ok with it…I would really rather stay with you" Jane replied quietly. Silently, she hoped this would give them a chance to get to know each other a little before they went back to Storybrooke, if he would agree to come back at all. But that was just another subject for later, right now Rumplestiltskin was pulling himself from the plastic seat –with the help of his cane- and gesturing for her to do the same.
"Well, follow me," he declared with a miniscule smile.
They must have walked in silence for at least a few minutes before Rumple stopped in front of a run-down apartment building. "I must warn you I haven't had company in a long while. Or ever, come to think of it. And the place isn't exactly homey, but there's a couch you can sleep on…or I can sleep on the couch if you'd prefer to sleep in bed, or-"
He cut himself off; he really needed to stop babbling. "You know what…I think I'll just let you figure that out yourself," he stated, continuing into the building and pulling a key out of his dress pants pocket.
Jane had only just registered that he was wearing a very worn looking four-piece suit, and the more she thought about it the sadder it made her.
Her mother had never refused to tell her about her father whenever she would ask –which was often. The topic of how her father dressed had come up quite a few times. Once when Jane was nearly six, Belle was helping her pick out clothes for school the next day and Jane had wondered aloud what her papa would have chosen. Belle, ever shielding her pain from her daughter, had only smiled and told Jane that she probably wouldn't be comfortable in a suit and tie. Jane had only giggled at that, but still she wondered how her papa dressed.
The last time the topic came up had been a little over a year ago. Her mother had been having a particularly hard day and had gotten misty eyed at seeing Henry dressed in a suit for work at the pawn shop. Jane had noticed tears in his own eyes when Belle hugged him and said with a sad smile "Dressed impeccably, just like your grandpa." Later, when Jane was sure her mother wasn't going to burst into tears, she had asked why she was having such a rough day. Belle quietly explained that it would have been their 14th wedding anniversary. That seemed like a good reason, considering.
"And dad liked to wear suits…" Jane had started carefully, not knowing how far she should go.
"Mhm…yes. Almost never took them off actually! If you didn't know better you'd think he slept in his waist-coat!" To Jane's relief, her mother had laughed at the memory instead of crying again.
The man she saw now barely resembled the impeccably dressed, put together man her mother had described. His suit looked well worn, probably more than a few years old. His black leather shoes were scuffed to the point there was no shine left, and his almost completely gray hair looked in serious need of a trim. This man simply looked tired and worn. At first glance you would think he was worn by age, but his eyes told a different story. This man –her father, was worn by pain. Probably more pain than anyone should have to endure. She was completely absorbed in her thoughts when a gentle tug on her arm brought her back to earth.
"Is everything ok? You were miles away," Rumple asked gently
"Oh. Sorry…yeah I'm fine. Just thinking." She smiled, hoping he wouldn't notice the touch of pity in her voice.
He gave her questioning look, and then turned back to the door they had stopped in front of. "Well this is it…It's not much, but it does the job," he stated, swinging open the dark green door and stepping inside.
It really wasn't much. The first thing she saw was what she guessed was supposed to be a living room. There was an old –but clean- couch facing nothing in particular, and a small bookshelf in the corner. No TV, she noted. Looking around she saw a small kitchen with nothing more than a stove, a refrigerator, a microwave, and a sink, and at the other end of the room there was a door to what she figured was either a bedroom or a bathroom. There weren't many trinkets or personal belongings that she could see, other than several books stacked in the bookshelf. He was right, it definitely wasn't homey. "What do you do?" She questioned, turning in a circle to face him again.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rumple gasped, and she almost thought he was genuinely offended until an amused grin spread across his face.
"I didn't mean it like that..." she began, dropping her backpack near the couch and making her way towards the small bookshelf in the corner. "I just meant it really doesn't look like anyone even lives here…I mean what do you for fun?" she continued, picking up one of the books and examining its cover.
"Fun?" Why did she want to know what he did for fun? Did he even do things for fun anymore?
"Yes fun. Everybody has to have fun!" She turned quickly to face him, book still in hand.
"Ehh…I read? I go to a museum sometimes…well I work at the museum. But I walk around it once in a while," he was fidgeting with his ring again…why did this girl make him so uncomfortable!? She's so much like her mother. He inwardly smiled at the memory of Belle in his castle, constantly wanting to know more about him, constantly making him uncomfortable with her constant nearness. Yes, it had made him uncomfortable, but he still cherished every moment of their time together in his castle, their castle. Well…the good moments anyway. Other moments he wished he could go back and change, but that didn't matter now, because their daughter was standing in front of him and she wanted to get to know her father.
"Ooh, so I get my obsession with books from both sides huh?" she said, flipping to a random page of the musty old hard cover and running a finger over the words.
"Ha! No no, that's definitely all your mother. I'm sure you know all about how much she loves her books," he replied as he settled himself onto the old couch in the center of the room. Moments later Jane took a seat at the opposite end with the book she had been examining and a sad smile on her face.
"She does love her books…" She settled the book in her lap and began nervously picking at the edges as she continued. "She doesn't make it into the library very much now…sometimes it'll be weeks."
Rumple didn't know what to make of that...Before, Belle wouldn't have gone more than two days without checking on the library and bringing home a new book! What possibly could have changed that she would go weeks without a new book? And that's when he remembered. Before any of this happened, when Jane was just a lost girl sitting on the subway, she had told him her mother was sick. Her mother was dying.
Her mother was Belle.