A lot of people got the identities right. They are: Boo from Monsters INC, Lock Shock and Barrel from the nightmare Before Christmas, and Mordred from Arthurian legend. I haven't see the show Merlin or anything like that. The closest I've seen is the HBO series Camelot. It's just going to be a generic story rather than a crossover of anything in particular.
Since so many people guessed it here's the spoiler: someone(s) going back to FTL, and there might be a few surprises in store for them.
Also I want to give a big thanks to Noamg who has agreed to be the beta for this story. Now there shouldn't be any more complaining that my spelling and grammar sucks. Lol. You know I love you guys, right?
Enjoy.
Neal sat at the counter running his finger absentmindedly over the rim of his glass of juice. He had thought that having a drink would calm his nerves but orange juice was all the old man had and the thought of the acidy substance wasn't doing anything to calm his stomach.
He wasn't ready for this but it couldn't be avoided…not for too much longer. As much as it hurt to think about—as much as he would like nothing better than to ignore the fact that he and his father even lived in the same world—it wasn't going to work that way. Not now.
They had to find some sort of steady ground between them or they were bound to fall into the deep abyss surrounding them. A part of Neal would have been fine with that, but he knew if things between him and Gold imploded, it was bound to effect those around him—those he cared about—and he wasn't going to expose Emma and Henry to that.
Everything in him screamed for him to leave. To take the coward's way out, but things couldn't get better until they tried to fix them…and Regina was right. He could whine internally about how the old man wasn't doing anything, but the truth was that Neal hadn't given him an opportunity. He hadn't been ready. Hell, he still wasn't, but that didn't make it any less necessary.
And that is how he found himself sitting in Gold's kitchen with all the lights off, waiting for the old man to come home hopefully for an early lunch.
The door creaked and Neal knew it was show time. He hadn't called ahead, but he had left the front door cracked a bit to give the old man some sort of warning. It was all he could bring himself to do.
Gold entered the kitchen, tensed, clutching his cane, ready to swing it like a bat, but the moment he saw Neal sitting there, all apprehension dropped from his shoulders and was replaced by an odd combination of confusion and joy.
"Bae."
Inwardly Neal flinched at the word. He had forced himself to forget that name and all the pain it brought with it. Every good memory associated with it only made the bad that much worse like ground glass in an open wound. Hearing that name only brought all that to the surface but Neal didn't correct him; he wasn't letting this conversation go south already.
"I let myself in. I hope you don't mind."
"No, of course not."
Neal licked his lips, feeling his mouth suddenly go very dry.
"I figured we could…talk. If we want to move past this…" This was so awkward his skin was crawling and he was at a loss for words. The truth was that he wasn't even sure if he wanted to, but for all of their sakes Neal pretended otherwise. He pretended that reconciliation was at the top of his list rather than some sticky note stuck haphazardly to the page. "We've got to talk about this."
Gold nodded vigorously and sat down. Neal couldn't help but think that the old man's earnestness only made the awkwardness all the worse.
Neal took a deep breath. He didn't want to do this—he had never wanted to do this—but the truth was an antiseptic. No matter how much it stung to say or hear, it had to be said to keep something dark and ugly from festering in his heart.
"What were you thinking?" he asked, his voice small and his eyes wide. "Did you think you would come through at the same time I did and it would be like nothing had happened?"
That might not have worked even if it was how everything played out. Most of it had to do with the reason he had left in the first place. Although it had hurt like a bitch, the real pain hadn't come from being abandoned. It had come from something much worse.
"I just wanted to get back to you, Bae. I've spent every moment regretting not following you. I was trying to make it right…"
Neal closed his eyes and forced himself not roll them in indignation and pain. Gold's words cut into Neal's heart like glass, but that didn't change the fact that the old man didn't get it. He didn't understand what the true nightmare fuel was.
"I was terrified of you," Neal explained, each word a breath. He felt like he had been saying the same things over and over again, but that didn't make them any less true or any easier to say.
"What?" Gold asked, his eyes wide and his face broken and Neal couldn't help but be surprised. He had said the exact same thing in Gold's shop that day when he gave up the one secret he had never really wanted to. This wasn't news to the old man, but maybe he had been too shocked by the revelation to really let the words sink in before.
Maybe if Gold didn't act so fucking surprised by it all, it wouldn't feel like Neal was shoving daggers into his own chest with every word.
No part of Neal wanted the man to go back to how it was before—only pretending to listen, but not absorbing anything that he didn't want to hear—but at the same time he couldn't deny wishing it wasn't so easy…that it didn't feel like he was giving his father a list of impossible demands.
"After you became the Dark One, it was like I had lost my father. I tried talking to you, but it never worked. Maybe I wasn't saying it right or enough, or maybe you just didn't want to hear it," he swallowed, knowing how the next part would hurt his father, but it had to be said. It was a harsh truth, but one he had to say none the less, "but I honestly, thought I would have been safer in the trenches."
"You would have died!" There it was. The little bit of friction Neal had been praying for. Maybe now things would get easier. Maybe now he could take a sliver of pleasure in hurting the old man rather than letting his pain cut at Neal's own heart.
"Maybe." Neal spat, "Maybe not."
"I get why you did it," he sighed, not giving the conversation an opportunity to escalate into a fight. "Now more than ever."
Now that he had Henry in his life, he knew he probably would have done the same or worse to save the boy, but that didn't make it right. That didn't fix all the wounds branded deep into his soul.
"That doesn't change the fact that for those two months I was forced to live with a demon wearing my father's face."
There was such pain in Gold's eyes that Neal had to look away as he continued. He had to keep on. He had to keep saying it or the cancer would come back and consume them all.
"I had to keep reminding myself to call you papa because I was terrified of what would happen if I slipped up." It was another repetition. Another thing he shouldn't have to say again, and another thing Gold hadn't heard the first time.
The corners of his eyes stung and he could feel his throat tightening to an almost suffocating extent but he would not let himself cry…not in front of him…not now. Even if it would have been as cathartic as hell.
"I'm so sorry Bae. I never meant to disappoint you, I just…I never imagined you were so miserable."
Gold sounded so miserable and Neal could do nothing but curse him. He had no right to do this, to make Neal feel like the one who was at fault here when he had done nothing wrong. He wasn't the cruel one. He wasn't the monster. He wasn't the murderer. Then why did he feel so guilty?
Neal took a deep breath. Getting worked up like this was not going to make things any easier and he couldn't bear it if they got worse.
Gold didn't get it; he didn't see the real point behind all this, and so it was time to switch tactics. He understood now what had really happened to his papa when he had become the Dark One. Rumplestiltskin had traded his ability to empathize with others for the power to save what he cared about most and that, ironically, or perhaps tragically enough, had been what had cost him that very thing.
Now that he knew that, maybe Neal could do what he had tried to do since he was fourteen. Maybe he could finally put this all into terms his father could understand.
"What if it had been me that tried to save you?" Neal asked, looking him in the eye, daring him to imagine the reverse scenario—to see things from where he stood. It was the only way his papa would understand what he had truly done in his quest to fix everything. It was the only way he could understand how much he had fucked everything up.
"What if I had been the one to sell my soul to help you? What if you had been the one afraid of me and ran? And what if I had spent centuries looking for you but in the process had become everything you never thought I could be…if I had become some drug addicted serial killer? What if you had to live with the fact that it was all for you?" Neal's voice broke as he spoke the next words but he had to say them; they had been growing inside him since the moment he had heard of the curse and had only been festering since.
"What if you had to know that it was all your fault? That so many other people's lives were ruined all because you were the coward."
"Oh Bae," Gold breathed, the pain in his voice hurting Neal a thousand times more than telling his tale had. He tried not to let it show, to be strong, but he wasn't sure how long he could keep it up. This day — this singular moment with his father — left his soul raw and naked and freezing…but at the same time it was rather liberating. It had all been festering for so long; it was a relief to let the wound get some fresh air.
"Would you…would you rather I have never looked for a way to find you?" Gold said, completely unable to grasp the idea.
"Yes!" Neal said, not even bothering to keep the water form forming in the corners of his eyes. "How many lives did you destroy in the process? How many families did you put through the same hell we went thought?
"You should have let it all go. You should have settled down with Belle and been happy. That's what I would have wanted for you."
"But without the curse you would never have met Miss Swan." Gold muttered, and it had to sound just as feeble of an excuse to him as it did to Neal, but that didn't make the words any less sickening. And true.
In one swift movement, Neal slid out of his chair and took two giant steps away from his father, his body shaking in a fear he had never known. "T-t-tell me you didn't."
He had never stuttered before, but the words sent him shaking like someone in the process of freezing to death, and his voice quivered like a child waking from a nightmare. He could handle anything else — anything — but not this. Anything but this.
"Tell me that wasn't part of the curse. Tell me you didn't arrange that too." Tell me it wasn't all fake. But he didn't say the last part out loud, he couldn't bear it. David had brought this up once before, but Neal had pushed the thought deep down until he had all but forgotten it in the weeks since Emma had returned and he focused on making everything right with her. But now that he had to face the fact that it may not have been just an idle thought and maybe there had been nothing real to fix…
"No Bae. Even if I could, I never would have. Not to you."
Neal studied him, trying to decide if he could trust him and then decided it didn't matter. Gold could be lying, but if that was the case, Neal didn't want to know. Not about this. This is one lie he didn't need shattered…if it even really was a lie.
He slid to the floor, his back pressed against the cabinet and even he couldn't tell if the odd noise he was making was a laugh or a cry. Probably both. "Then fate's got one hell of a sense of humor."
Gold took a step forward, wanting desperately to comfort his son but unsure if the gesture would be welcomed. It wasn't. Neal felt like something inside him was breaking, and he couldn't tell if it were a good thing or not. He was hurting too much to care.
The phone rang but no one answered. The moment was too intimate and too necessary to be disturbed, and besides, wasn't that what answering machines were for?
"Look Gold," Emma sounded worried, and Neal immediately picked his head up. If she was trying that hard to reach him — if she had gone as far as to call his father — something was up. Something big. "I know this is a long shot, but is Neal over there? It's important and his phone is off…"
Neal picked it up, almost terrified of what he would hear. He just couldn't handle any more today.
"Hey Em, what's up?" he asked, not completely able to hide the hoarseness of his voice. He knew she heard, but true to Emma, she went straight for the reason she called and he was grateful.
"Is Henry with you?"
A cold trickle of déjà vu shot down his spine. This wasn't the first conversation they had recently that began with those words.
"Er…no. Shouldn't he be at school?" he said, ignoring his father listening in to the half conversation he could hear.
"Should being the key word. Regina put him on the bus but he didn't make it to class."
Neal took a breath and gave voice to the fear eating at his stomach. "You don't think that witch got him again, do you?"
"It looks like he just skipped, but I need to be sure. When I get my hands on that boy…." Emma trailed off and Neal really didn't have to work too hard to fill in the gaps on that one.
"You and me both. Alright, I'll help look for him, but keep me updated."
Neal hadn't wanted to accept the spell from his father, but he hadn't resisted when offered. Gold had seemed so earnest, and Neal had been to emotionally exhausted to refuse. Besides, this was the fastest way to find Henry and he needed to know where the kid was, needed to know if he was safe. Regina could have probably done a tracking spell—hell, for all he knew she probably was—but Gold had insisted and Neal didn't want to fight. Not over this; not when he was making some effort (even if it was with magic) to help.
It was a good thing he had taken it, too. Somehow, Henry had wound up walking alone across town, walking along the road towards Main Street; miles away from any place he had any business being.
Neal pulled the car over and flung the passenger's side door open.
"Get in." he said, anger seeping into every letter, and Henry had to knowhe was in for it.
No one spoke for the first few miles, as Neal tried to get a hold of himself. He could yell and scream at the boy as much as he wanted to, but considering they had only known each other a few weeks, it probably wasn't the best way to start a father-son relationship.
"What were you thinking?" he hissed, his voice still tight.
"I'm sorry." Henry's voice was small and heartbreaking and Neal couldn't help but wonder if the kid was playing him, calling on his sympathies to get himself out of trouble. Neal had done the same to his father when he was a kid, but that didn't fix anything. Not now.
"Look kid, I don't really care if you go to school or not, but your moms do, and I'm going to back them on this one," he sighed, getting to the real issue here, "We just need to know where you are. When you got grabbed by that witch, it took us two hours to even realize that you were missing. Who knows what could have happened?"
Henry looked down at the book perpetually in his lap and Neal couldn't help but feel bad for giving him a hard time...whether or not he was being played. Maybe instead of yelling at him, he should find out what was going on.
"Is there something going on at school that I need to know about? Someone making fun of you or something?" Neal asked, at a loss at what else it could be.
"No, nothing like that."
Henry wasn't lying, per se, but he wasn't exactly telling the truth either.
"Henry."
Henry looked up at Neal's tone and sighed. "Most people don't want to hang out with me because their scared of my mom," and your dad, Henry left the last bit unsaid but Neal was good at reading between the lines, "but that's nothing new."
"Then why don't you want to go?"
Henry looked at him and Neal knew he wouldn't like the answer. The kid was worried about what he would think, and that's why it was so difficult for him to say.
"I wanted to talk to the blue fairy about something…" he muttered almost guiltily.
And he couldn't have done it after school? Neal was getting more and more uncomfortable about this.
"What was it?"
Henry was silent and Neal really didn't have the patience left for this. The conversation with his father had emotionally drained him of just about everything, and the kid's games weren't helping.
"Come on kid, you've got to tell me if you want me to understand."
Henry licked his lips. "I want to learn magic."
Neal slammed on the breaks so fast he was surprised they didn't go flying through the windshield of his stolen Nissan. He turned to look at the kid, slowly, his head twisting like something out of an old horror movie.
This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. How much more would magic take from him? How much more would it corrupt?
"Are you crazy? Why would you want to do something stupid like that?"
Henry jerked back like he had been physically struck and Neal immediately felt like an ass. But shouldn't Henry understand what magic turned people into better than just about anyone else?
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled." He said taking a breath and forcing all the anger to leave his voice as he started the car again, "It's just that I've seen what magic does to people—what it turns them into, and you've seen it, too. I don't want that for you. Please explain why the hell you would want that."
"When Cora had me, it didn't matter if I could use a sword. She even threw grandpa across the room and he's the best swordsman in Storybrooke."
"So what, you want magic for revenge?" That didn't sound like the kid at all. In fact, it sounded more like something Neal would hear from his father rather than his kid, and that made it all the worse.
Henry shook his head, the hurt still evident on his face as he explained himself to his newfound father. "I just want to be able to protect the people I care about…and learning how to fight won't be enough."
"But the cost…" Neal whispered.
"That's why I went to see the Blue Fairy. I wanted to know if she could teach me good magic," he said imploring Neal to understand. Neal looked over at the kid, equal parts proud and terrified. At least the kid was smart enough to find out if it was even possible before jumping in to it, but at the same time Neal couldn't help the horrible sinking fear of the answer from flowering in the bottom of his gut. If she had said no, it would crush the boy and lift a great burden from Neal's heart. If she said yes, the situation would be reversed, and it would be Neal that broke into pieces.
"She said she couldn't teach me how to use fairy magic."
Was it wrong of him to be thankful, despite the disappointment he knew Henry felt?
"But that there were good magicians in Storybrooke who might be willing to help." The boy continued and Neal's heart fell.
"Henry—" he began but the boy cut him off, practically begging him to understand.
"She said that it's not the magic itself that makes them sick, it's how they use it."
"Magic is a drug." Neal said, his face tight and his fingers just as tight around the steering wheel. He didn't want to have this conversation…he didn't want to have to face this horror.
"But not like the ones you see on TV—not the bad ones," Henry said, every inflection begging Neal to understand just as much as Neal wanted the boy to see his side of it all. "It's more like the pills Dr. Whale gives people. As long as you use them at the right times and in the right amounts, it's fine…it can even be a good thing."
There was no denying that the boy had done his homework with this, but Neal still didn't like it. Neal turned off the car and sighed.
"Are you mad?" Henry asked
Neal rubbed his temple, exhausted. "No I'm not. I just…can we discuss this later? You need to get to your afternoon classes."
"Fine." Henry mutters, and Neal couldn't tell if the kid was the one mad at him or not. Whatever. If he was he would just have to get over it. Neal may be new to this whole fatherhood thing, but he did know at least the basics of what it meant. His first priority was to keep Henry safe, and letting him play around with magic wasn't the way to do that.
As Henry got out the car, Neal looked over and saw a flash of silver in the console between the seats. A flash of inspiration struck and a wicked grin spread across his face. Maybe it would be a little mean, but it was one way to make sure Henry learned his lesson about staying in school.
It only took a few moments for them to stop by the office and sign the kid in. Something about the way Henry carried himself told Neal that the kid half-expected that to be it—that Neal wouldn't walk him all the way to his class. As if. The kid wasn't getting off that easily. Not by far.
"You know Neal, you don't have to walk me to my desk." Henry says as he sat down. Luckily for him, his classmates were just now beginning to trickle in from lunch or recess so only a few were here to witness what happened next.
"Yeah I do," Neal muttered and with one swift motion he took the handcuffs out of his pocket and slipped one end around Henry's wrist and the other end around the metal bar connecting his desk to the chair.
He supposed technically he should have given them back to Emma or David after breaking out, but with all that had been going on, it had kind of slipped his mind. With how quite this town was, he was probably putting the damn things to better use anyways.
"Aw…really?" Henry muttered, shaking his chains like he couldn't believe that Neal actually did that.
Mark looked on, watching the scene. The moment the chains started rattling, he started laughing so hard he fell out his chair. He wasn't the only one to see the amusement in the situation. Snow had a knuckle pressed against her mouth to keep the chuckles from escaping.
Good. Neal hadn't intended to make a show out of it, but if it helps the message stick…
"Well, I've got to make sure you're where you're supposed to be somehow, right?" Neal said smiling as he walked to the door.
"Oaky, I get it. You can let me go," Henry said as if it would actually convince Neal to undo the lock.
Neal ignored him and stopped walking just long enough to toss the keys to Snow. "Just in case."