Chapter 39

A/N. U2's "Sometimes You Can't Make it on Your Own" inspired this chapter.

Gold's Shop, 4:25 pm

Hoping to catch her beloved in his workroom and offer him encouraging words before he drops in on (confronts?) his son, Belle comes in through the back door, unlocking it with her own set of keys. The radio is on, tuned to a pop station, and through the store a woman's voice twines, singing along with the song, not in tune and not in rhythm, but at least she has the lyrics right.

"Hello?" Belle calls out, not wanting to give Regina a start (lest she wheel around and turn Belle into a grasshopper or something).

The singer and the radio cease production. "Ms. French, is that you?"

Belle comes around the curtain to find Regina hovering over one the display counters. Every counter is cluttered with stuff that Belle recognizes as having formerly been inside the counters. Gold is gone.

"He stepped out," Regina says. Then she dismisses Belle by turning away from her and concentrating on a beer stein. Her hands glow as she touches it, and when she takes her hands away the stein glows too.

Belle watches with dread and, admittedly, fascination, though certainly she's watched Gold cast many a spell, mix many a potion; though she has usually despised the reason, she's found the act curious, a blend of the most modern thinking of the magic realms, a science of their own in fact, and the most ancient lore. Casting can also be a most elegant thing, a dance of the hands, and Belle has always found her beloved's hands beautiful.

But it's Regina who's casting. Regina the abductor, the imprisoner, the commander of tortures physical and mental in this world and the last. Regina who drove Rumplestiltskin near madness with her lies, whose curse (yes, and Rumple's; Belle can't let him off the hook, though he had no idea what was being done to her) left Belle bereft of identity for twenty-nine years, then robbed her again of her memory, and then, as if amnesia wasn't enough torture, created Lacey. Belle's stomach churns just remembering. And here they are, the queen and her victim, face to face, and alone.

And alone, except for Regina's magic, which could easily bring Lacey back. Belle sucks in a breath. Three mutually exclusive thoughts vie for her attention: to run and protect herself; to demand an apology which will never come, but the demand itself will prove Belle is unafraid; or to grab Regina by the hair and thrust her face into the glass cabinet.

Belle is not a coward, a fool or a roller derby queen, so she dismisses each thought in turn. But she won't leave. This is her beloved's shop, at least for one more day, and she has right to be here; more importantly, she is a human being, and she has right to stand against her torturer and refuse to be intimidated.

Regina has moved on to a necklace and is enchanting it. "I don't know how long he'll be. If you want to leave a message. . . ?"

Belle watches the queen's hands imbue the necklace with a burst of magic. She notices something she's never seen before: a slight shaking in those hands. Belle's gaze travels to Regina's face, and there she finds a spot of red in each cheek. The magic, perhaps, is affecting the queen. But Belle has seen Regina cast spells many times, and always with steady hands and an unmarred complexion.

Regina is nervous.

Belle smiles then, smugly. It's not that Regina won't look her in the eye—it's that Regina can't. Just a crack in the façade, but it's a beginning: Regina feels guilty.

Regina, guilty? Nah.

Belle decides to push it. "No." She walks around the counter so she's directly in front of Regina. "I'll wait here. I understand you're working on something to stop Pan?"

"It won't stop him. If this idea works at all, it will slow him down for a minute or two."

"Long enough for the portal to be opened?"

"And the fail safe to be activated."

Regina has finished the necklace and moves on to a scabbard. Belle studies the rows of objects on the counters; some of them carry a faint aura, barely visible, but she thinks she can smell it. Back in the Dark Castle, she could always smell Rumple's magic when it was first released, just for the briefest moment. It had a distinct scent of wood smoke and ashes, and beneath that, the scent of his skin.

All these things, these hundreds of things, have lived with him these thirty years, have been closer to him than any human has. Rumplestiltskin still loves things. But she smiles because she knows where he is now: the fact that he's with his son, not his stuff, proves he loves people too, three of them (and she suspects Emma's growing on him), far more than his things.

Belle raises her head and Regina glances at her, perhaps expecting a challenge. Belle stares back at her. If Rumple can work up the courage to ask Bae's forgiveness, she can certainly work up the courage to face her persecutor. "Let me help."

The queen's mouth falls open. Just for a moment.

Gold's Shop, 5:45 pm

A Yukon pulls up to the curb just as Belle and Regina are struggling to fit ten crates of enchanted trinkets into the latter's Mercedes-Benz. Regina has just decided to transport the crates by magic when the silent and very tall Mr. Dove appears without warning at her side and takes one of the crates out of her tiny trunk. "What—" she begins, but Baelfire comes up behind Dove and picks up another crate. "We'll take those. Mr. Dove's got plenty of room."

"Hi, Mom!" Henry pops up and gives Regina a quick hug. "Hi, Belle!"

"Hi yourself, Henry. Will you take this box for me?" Belle slides a cardboard box into his arms before going back into the shop for another.

"Is Henry going to the meeting too?" Regina looks around for someone to scowl at, but Bae and Dove are both busy loading the SUV. "I don't think that's a good idea. He's just a child."

"All the more reason he should have a voice in the proceedings. His education is to be considered." Regina twists about to find Gold behind her. Something's a bit off, she thinks as she considers whether to argue with him: he's dressed the same as he was an hour ago, yet he looks as though he's just arisen from a long nap—or used some of that "Gray Away" gunk for his hair. But what sort of narcissist would spend his last hour before a declaration of war napping or dying his hair?

"It's too late now to find a sitter," Regina grumbles; she glares at Bae's back; this casual approach to child rearing brings the man's qualifications for parenting into question. Once everyone has settled into their new homes in the Enchanted Forest (Regina will, of course, return to the Spiral Castle; whatever condition it's in, a little magic will clean it up) a custody hearing will be the next order of business. "Has he even had his dinner?"

"Regina," Gold cautions, "don't start." He bends to pick up a crate and his face prepares a wince—but as he straightens, his ankle supports the extra weight without complaint. His face relaxes and he slides the crate into the Yukon.

"Rumple!" Belle thrusts the crate she's carrying into Bae's arms, dashes into Gold's arms and plants a kiss on his eager mouth—and in return, he lifts her and swings her in a circle. They both laugh like children playing tag and Belle proclaims, "Your ankle! Your thigh! Your black eyes have healed!"

"Regina did it," he says with a little apprehension. "Magic." He steels himself for a dressing down, but she says, "I'm so happy to see you out of pain." She touches Regina's arm to catch her attention. "Regina, thank you."

The queen shrugs. "His injuries were interfering with the work."

The comment elicits one of Belle's patented I-see-right-through-you head tilts. "Thank you just the same."

They finish loading the SUV and Rumple lifts Belle into the back seat (lifts! He hasn't been able to do that for her since the Dark Castle days), then slides in beside her, and Henry finishes the row. Dove holds the front passenger side door open and offers his hand to Regina. "Will you ride with us, Ms. Mills, or do you prefer to take your own car?"

Regina isn't expecting this. Her first instinct is to wonder if this is a trick, but no one's laughing: Belle and Rumple are preoccupied with each other and Bae and Henry are yakking about "Babe Ruth's ERA" (she's surprised to find them so interested in women's rights, but she resents Bae for teaching her son to call a woman "babe").

"Ms. Mills?" Dove prompts.

Regina adjusts her skirt and with a curt nod allows Dove to hand her up into the SUV. In a halting voice she says, "Thank you, Dove."

Out of the corner of his eye, Bae watches and eavesdrops on his father and Belle. He has only a shadow of a memory of his mother, and after that, the only women in his father's life, and consequently his, were neighbors and an aunt called Maerwynn, who would stay with Bae when Rumple went to market. Then, and later, after the Dark curse, Rumple showed no interest in friendship, let alone romance, so it's jarring to see him now, at his advanced age, holding hands and speaking in soft tones—making himself vulnerable to this woman, as he's never been before. Bae might be concerned for his father's welfare: a long-alone, wealthy man pursuing, or being pursued by, a much younger woman would set off alarms for any son. But after their heart-to-heart talk, Bae can't imagine anyone he'd feel safer entrusting his father to, nor anyone more capable of striding that delicate balance between feistiness and infinite patience that a life with Rumplestiltskin demands.

It's not the spinner or the Dark One or the pawnbroker, Bae thinks, giving of himself so freely to the rather shy woman; Bae doesn't know this man at all. He thinks he might like to.

Council Chambers, City Hall, 5:55 pm

Snow and David are already on the scene, and in fact have been for nearly a half-hour. For people who claim to care nothing for politics, they are nevertheless wise in its ways: working different ends of the chambers, they've made certain to shake the hand of everyone who's walked in; they have a talent for making each individual feel he or she is the most important person in the room. By the time Snow and David have wandered up to the front of the room, they have a clear sense of the mood and a pretty good idea how to turn it around. They've also already won everyone's confidence that there's a plan, a workable plan, a plan with a choice. That's something they both know instinctively: where there is choice, there will be thought, discussion, an engagement of the brain that can override the hasty overreactions of the heart.

Something else they both know instinctively is that a unified front from the leaders is necessary for public confidence. Any disagreements between them were hammered out in private before the first citizen walked in—and Snow has had a chance to overcome her surprise in learning that David has not only changed his mind but is actually taking Rumplestiltskin's advice, trusting his words. Once she regains her equilibrium, she thinks that for David to say that Rumple is right must be a sign that, well, Rumple is right and there really is no choice.

She allows David, then, to start the discussion, trusting that his change of heart will lead the way for others to do the same. When Rumple and his family arrive, she and David make their way to the podium and David calls for attention. He doesn't turn the microphone on; his voice is strong enough to carry the room and carry the day.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming. We have a big decision to make, the most important one in our community's life together. As you know, there's an army gathering on the west bank of the Neowa, led by a man I'm told has no scruples, no mercy, and no hesitation to destroy anything that gets in his way. His minions claim he only intends to rid this world of magic, but his history shows his ambitions go much farther. The fact that he's sent a hundred demons of every ilk ahead of him shows that he intends to kill. From the way he's treated his vanquished enemies in the past, we believe surrender is not an option.

"So that leaves us with two possibilities. We can engage him in war. We can fight for our town, and if we defeat him, send him back to his own world, humiliated, dethroned. Or we can evacuate."

Snow joins her husband. "We can get the children and the elderly out first, and the rest of us will follow. We'll go back to the Enchanted Forest and rebuild, start new lives, free of curses."

"That's the coward's way out!" Leroy shouts. "I want to go back home same as you do, but not with my tail tucked between my legs. A man would stay and fight!"

"It's not just this town we have to think about," Archie reminds everyone. "What about the rest of this world? We can't leave it to Pan. It's our fault he's here—"

"It ain't our fault!" Leroy denies. "We didn't bring him here. We didn't bring ourselves here, remember?" He pushes through the crowd and walks to the front. "We were cursed, and she's the one who cursed us."

He points to Regina, who glares back at him, watching the crowd through the corners of her eyes. Dove shifts his body partially in front of hers, a warning to anyone who might lash out. It's a sweet, old-fashioned gesture, Regina thinks, though quite unnecessary: with her magic she's much more powerful than he is, than anyone in this chamber is.

"The first shot that's fired, it should be her goin' down, not any of us," Leroy pushes. "And the second shot, that should be for the coward who came up with an evacuation plan." His finger moves to Regina's left, where Gold stands.

"Turning against each other won't accomplish—" Snow begins.

But Granny interrupts her. "The same one that created the curse to begin with. The cause of all our problems is right there, folks. And he's gonna keep on causing us problems if we let him."

Heads turn. So far no one's making a move, but Gold narrows his eyes in warning—and wishes he had his cane.

"How do we know he's not working for Pan?" Someone suggests.

"How do we know Pan's not working for him?" Leroy corrects.

"Everyone, calm down," David urges.

"You're wasting time," Gold declares. "You can have my hide next week. Tonight, you need to prepare to protect your families."

"Maybe we can't do anything about Regina, but your magic is gone, Rumplestiltskin. You're on our level now. Throwing you to the wolves—sorry, Red—might just be the first step in doing that." Leroy takes a step forward.

Gold remains perfectly still, but Bae sets a protective hand on his arm and whispers, "Let me take some of the punches for you tonight." Gold blinks, glancing at him, and Bae nods before walking up to Leroy.

"You call my father a coward," Bae begins, thrusting his finger into Leroy's chest. "Let me ask you this, buddy-boy: would a coward let himself die of poisoning when the antidote's just inches away from him, rather than allow his magic to fall into the hands of a power-grubbing psycho like Cora? Would a coward devote two centuries searching for his lost child? Would a coward cross over the town line to try to find his son, knowing that it meant leaving his magic behind and risking losing his memory? Would a coward stay here when he could've made a deal with Regina for a magic bean and gotten the hell out of here?" Bae glances at his father, and Gold sees something in Bae's eyes that he hasn't seen in centuries: pride.

As Belle, overcome, leans her head against her beloved's arm and Henry closes ranks between his adoptive mother and his Grampa, Gold realizes that the power he chased, through magic in the old world and through money in this one, is an illusion. The true power is here. Everything that matters is right here with him. He squeezes Henry's shoulder as he mouths "Thank you" to Bae, and then he kisses the top of Belle's head.

Bae continues, addressing the crowd rather than Leroy, "You know, the sensible thing would've been for my father to say, 'Screw you' and come with me to New York, cross that town line and forget he ever had anything to do with the rest of you. But I guess he's not very sensible, because you know what he was doing today? He was working, making it possible for the rest of you to get back home safe. So call him stubborn as hell, 'cause he is; call him an asshole, because he can be, no doubt about that; but if you call him a coward one more time, dwarf, I'm gonna go medieval upside your head."

Emma thrusts herself between the two would-be combatants. "One more word and you'll both be sharing a cot with Hook tonight." She pushes Leroy toward one end of the chamber. "Get back there with your family." Then she pushes Bae toward the other. "And you get back there with yours." When the men comply, she nods at her parents. "Go ahead, Mom, Dad."

David grips the podium; the look on his face suggests he'd just as soon throw it. "There's nothing cowardly about this evacuation plan, and in fact, it's how Snow and I are going to vote. We think it's going to save lives—lives of innocent people out there who don't have any idea this town exists, and our own lives."

Murmurs ripple through the crowd, and now alternate voices are heard, voices of those whom the Charmings won over before the meeting began. David gives them a moment to make the sales pitch for him before explaining, "The plan is, we're going to evacuate through a portal created by the magic beans the dwarves grew. A few of us will remain behind to hold off Pan's army. And then, when most have safely arrived in the Enchanted Forest, the rest of us are going to retreat so Pan follows us right down Main Street—and then we're going to activate the fail safe that will destroy Storybrooke, and then we're hightailing it out of here."

"How are you going to decide who stays?" Sneezy asks.

"Volunteer basis," David answers. "No questions asked, though we do want to make certain that all the children are evacuated before any fighting starts."

Snow adds, "Those who wish to form a defensive line with David and Emma and me, you should know we'll be fighting fire with fire. Mr. Gold and Regina have come up with a way for us to use magic on a temporary basis, just enough to defend ourselves and maybe startle the enemy. They'll teach us how it works."

"So let's make it clear what we're voting on: like Leroy says, we can make this an all-out war. Decide Storybrooke is our home and defend it with all we've got," David surmises. "Or we can evacuate through a portal, back to the Enchanted Forest, taking Storybrooke and Pan down behind us."

"Some of you have already indicated that you want to stay in this world," Snow continues. "That's your choice too. Once we've set off the trigger, you can cross the town line. The Lost Boys will help you get to New York, and from there you can figure out where you want to go."

"It won't be easy in the forest," Emma admits. "We'll be eating a lot of chimera at first. And the place is a shambles; we'll have to rebuild at the same time we're plowing and planting and hunting. But there are people still living in the forest; they'll help us."

"We remember what to do," Snow says. "It's what we were born for. We'll be okay."

"It's time to vote," David announces. "If you had asked me yesterday, I would've said hell yes, we go to war. But I would've been wrong. Our children and our grandchildren are going to need us in the forest. Sometimes the most courageous thing you can do is to put aside your rage and do what's best for your children. So Snow and I vote in favor of evacuation." He raises his hand in the air, and Snow does the same. "Who else votes to evacuate?"

Belle laces her fingers through Gold's, and they raise their enjoined hands. Bae has come back to stand with his family, and he too raises his hand.

Emma weaves through the crowd, counting those whose hands remain lowered. Her task is easy, especially when Leroy grunts, "I'm a sergeant of the royal guard. I stand with my queen."

"One nay," Emma announces from the floor.

Eyebrows shoot up. "Who's the one?"

Regina shrugs her shoulders. "Not a 'nay,' but an abstention. Under the circumstances, I didn't think my vote would count."

"Your vote matters as much as mine or anyone else's," Snow assures her.

Leroy growls, "Get your hand up, sister."

Regina blinks. "Very well, then." She raises her hand.

David nods slowly. "Those who want to join the front line, meet with me and Snow up front—"

Now, for the first time, Gold speaks out, calling over the racket that's ensued as people start to make their plans. "Before we adjourn, may I have the floor for a moment?"

David thrusts his fingers in his mouth and whistles, and the racket dies down. Gold releases Belle's hand and moves up to the podium, ignoring the eye daggers.

But they listen, because however much they resent him, he has knowledge they need to survive tomorrow, and it's only the need to impart information that drives him up to the front now, subjecting himself to ridicule. "I want to remind you about the perceived value of possessions. . . a subject you may agree I'm an authority on. It will be tempting to take that which is familiar, that which we value in this world, but much of what we prize here will have no use there. We must bring what is essential to survival: tools, medicine, knives, work clothes; livestock, two of each, like Noah's ark. Dogs and cats will be valuable. Nothing requiring electricity or batteries, since it will be years before we have such luxuries. Guns, jewelry and finery will be meaningless. Money won't even make good kindling."

"Well, that pretty much wipes you out, don't it?" Leroy laughs.

"Indeed," Gold agrees. "As much as it pains me, I shall replace Giorgio Armani with Levi Strauss."

The president of Storybrooke Bank, Ms. Silver, speaks up. "I can transfer the holdings for all our customers to the bank's headquarters in New York. If you choose, you can sign over your account to someone who's staying behind, or if you want to try to take your money with you to the Enchanted Forest, we'll cash you out, tonight. It's up to you—but for me and my family, we'll be taking things we can actually use in the forest. I'm signing our money over to a charity."

"As will Belle and I," Gold says. "And we shall be investing in the establishment of a new business in upstate New York."

Slightly scratches his head. He hasn't had a chance to talk to Belle or Gold yet about the new Granny's: how did they find out? Then he shrugs, for sometimes his boss works in mysterious ways.

Gold continues, "We need a safe place to open the portal, a place large enough to gather."

"I figured we'd do it here." David indicates the council chambers.

"May I offer an alternative? A more convenient choice would be the library, the tunnel beneath which already leads to the Enchanted Forest. And we will need books."

"Yes, books," Snow agrees. "For schools."

"We have books back there," David remarks.

"Not likely," Emma shakes her head. "None of the buildings are still standing."

"Even if the books survived, they won't be of the kind we need: books about harnessing electricity, building sanitation systems, designing medical equipment, creating pharmaceuticals." Gold glances at Whale. "Science. I recommend bringing all engineering manuals, medical guides and the like to the library tonight for inclusion. And the easiest way to transport them is to drop the entire library through the portal."

"I agree," Snow says.

"Then the library is where we'll open the portal."

"One more suggestion, please," Gold continues. "For our line of defense to work, we need for Pan to believe we have magic oozing out of every pore; otherwise, he'll simply trample us. People with that sort of power would demonstrate no fear, even with the enemy at the gate."

David grins, catching on. "Especially with the enemy at the gate. No weeping and cowering. People who expect to win would spend the night before celebrating."

"In the open, for Pan's spies to see."

"Allow me," Granny calls out. "I need to empty my iceboxes anyway. Folks, party tonight at the diner, in one hour."

"We'll use that opportunity for strategizing," David says.

As the meeting adjourns, Ruby squeezes through the crowd to the front. She wishes a moment alone with her dear friend Snow; it may be their last. But first, she has something that needs to be said. "Mr. Gold?"

"Ms. Lucas?"

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It was Belle's idea. Just came to her out of the blue."

"I don't know what to say. We were worried how we'd make it out there, you know, no money. We'd think of it as a loan, pay you back if we could."

He shrugs. "Well then, think of it as the return of your rent payment on a lease that's being terminated."

Abruptly she leans forward and kisses his cheek. "Mr. Gold, may I have the first dance tonight?"

His eyes widen in surprise, not so much for her invitation but for the realization that for the first time in centuries, he can dance tonight. "It will be an honor, Ms. Lucas."