48
They always talk of hope - the good ones, the heroes. They always say how you mustn't lose hope, how losing hope is the first step on the way to darkness. How surprised would they be if they'd stop and think and realize that he, the Dark One, the darkest villain in their world, is actually the most hopeful person they know. He always, always hoped - that he'd find his boy, that he'd save his life, that he and Belle would keep their love, that happiness is possible, that freedom is not a dream, but something tangible. He always hoped, painfully and oh, so strongly.
And fate always, always brought him down, denying him everything he hoped for.
And it never stopped him: he would pick himself up after another blow, and lick his wounds, and go on hoping. Only to be brought down again - and to rise again. Wondering, deep there in his heart, whenever his strength would fail him, eventually - whenever a day would come when he wouldn't be able to stand up again and will remain on the ground, bleeding and weeping.
That day in New York, stripped to the hospital bed, helpless and sick and humiliated and looking in the sneering face of the wicked witch he hated more than any other being on earth, he thought that the day had come.
He should have known, as he walked away from Storybrook through the night, having forgiven his unhappy and cruel wife, longing for her already, planning his return and quietly confident in their happy ending, that things wouldn't be easy. When were they easy for him? He expected troubles, he knew he'd have to scheme and be cunning. Yet fate, his constant adversary, had in store for him something he didn't expect - as always, otherwise what's the fun of playing with him?
The first shock came when he entered his son's apartment in New York and found it taken - found a not-too-happy family of Regina's boyfriend settling there, and learned that Regina gave it to them. That had him taken aback, irritated and dumbfounded. What right had she to give away things and properties that had nothing to do with her whatsoever? She was the mayor of Storybrook, not the ruler of the world! That apartment belonged to Bae and his family, namely his father, for his lover was already in the arms - arm - of another man. How could she settle her lover there? And how come that Robin Hood, the honest thief, "the man with a code", didn't notice the vulgar senseless injustice of her gesture?
Yet he couldn't even begin arguing his completely justified objections when he was struck down by fate yet again. He had another cruel awakening - a reminder of his humanity and frailty. His heart failed him and, coming to his senses in a hospital, he realized he now has to face his gravest danger - his mortal peril. And he had to start a race against time itself.
His body was hundreds years old. Without magic, it couldn't survive for long. That was one thing, and he was always aware of that, but there was also something else now - something worse. His body was not really his own anymore - it was the product of dark magic, the unholy substance created out of darkness in the vault in the forest when his son sacrificed himself to bring him back from the dead. When he emerged from that vault, he was darkness itself - truly and wholly the Dark One, fearsome and omnipotent. And then he heard Belle's voice, and saw the look in her eyes, and love came back to his heart, and sparkled a light in his soul. He kept this light glowing when he held his dying son inside his body, using his humanity to bread humanity in himself. He kept this light glowing with his love for Belle, and this love sustained him and his light through darkest days of captivity when the witch held him in her power.
But then his son was separated from him and died in his arms, and the pain of that almost extinguished the light in his heart. Only Belle's love remained. And, wishing to protect it, he started doing bad things - things brought on by fear and grief. He lied. He kept secrets from her. He distrusted her and felt anger and pain at her eagerness to control him with the dagger. And all these things, combined, shadowed the light of love in his heart more and more.
And then he lost her - she cast him out of her life, and the pain of that struck another blow on his heart.
And the only source of light that was left in him was his own love, and his own hope. That was all armor he had in his fight with time and darkness that wanted to claim him back. And a lonely old man in a strange town, cast on the street by the whim of his former pupil, cannot fight time and darkness on his own. Not for long.
Of course he told Robin Hood a different story - he told him that his dark deeds blackened his heart; what was the point of getting into fine details about lost hopes and loves? What was the point of humiliating himself further? Robin was a hero, and heroes don't understand that being dark is not just about doing evil things; darkness doesn't enter human hearts with wicked intent and even cruelty. Much more often - nearly always, in fact - it enters human hearts with broken hopes, lost loves and despair; that's how he let it into his heart hundreds of years ago, when he wanted to save his son. That's how it came to possess his heart almost completely now, when he lost his son and lost the love of his wife.
No, it was much easier to blame everything on evil deeds. Simple enough to fit any hero's prejudices. Robin despised him, pitied him, and helped him - tricked, just like any hero, blind in his goodness. That actually felt good - it was nice to know that he doesn't need magic to exercise power, that he can manipulate people by his wits just as easily.
And then the trickster found himself tricked. The magic potion that Robin stole for him didn't work, for it was a fake - the real stuff was in possession of the wicked soul. The wicked witch that tortured him, was obsessed with him and killed his son; the wicked witch whom he wanted to kill - wanted it so much that to achieve that he lied to his wife and stepped onto the pat that led to destruction of his marriage... That wicked witch stood before him now, laughing in his face, telling him that he never killed her, that he gave her freedom to roam the world, murder an innocent woman, and come back into his life to haunt him.
The sight of her face, the sound of her voice, the very smell of her in the same room made him shudder. And as his vision swam and his breathing went shallow, and cold sweat covered his body as his heart beat violently and then stopped with a painful jerk, he felt grateful to death - it was merciful of him to come so quickly. He couldn't live now, not any longer. Not in the world where such things, such cruel jokes of fate were possible.
It was his destiny to die here, in this strange city, he should have known that. His son saved him once, when the pirate attacked him - his son saved him and took him to Belle, and he was able to say his good-byes. Pity that he will not see her this time - not even hear her voice... But she will understand. When they will tell her what happened, she'll understand. She will know he would have come back to her if he could.
They will tell her, these heroes?.. Surely they will tell her.
Zelena's sneering voice receded, her face blurred but still she was here, too close to him, and he couldn't bear it. His brain was shutting down, but still he tried to imagine Belle - her tearful face, her small polite voice... "Sweetheart, I am dying"... "Oh, I am so sorry".
She will be sorry. Of course she will be.
It was working.
It was true love.
Dying is painful!..
Darkness enveloped him like a warm blanket, shielding him from pain, embracing him. Darkness is not only evil and pain and bleakness. It is a soft murmur of the night sheltering lovers. It is calm. It is bliss of oblivion. Darkness is silence and peace.
For once in his life, darkness was his friend. But he did not know it or feel it.
He was dead, and in the world without magic death is a final, senseless thing.
But not his death, apparently. His death was not final - he was brought back to life, yet again. Not with a sacrifice of blood this time - not at the cost of someone he loved, thankfully. Medical machines and electric shock are the magic of this world. They brought him back.
They brought him back to the gleeful, mad smile of his torturer.
And that was when, stripped to the bed, dressed in ridiculous hospital gown, faint and barely breathing, listening to her gloating, feeling her hungry lips on his face, shuddering from the warm poison of her breath and squirming from the weight of her body on his as she climbed on the bed to torture him with her sick caress, that he thought: "I cannot go on".
He would not rise again. His final blow came. There was no strength in him to go on living and hoping. Not like that. That day - the day when he lost hope - had come.
But then, looking right into her gleaming green eyes, feeling her fingers crawl upon his skin like insects he felt it again - rage. Deep, terrible anger that sustained him when everything else was lost. If there is no hope for good things, there is always hope of revenge, it told him. No point in giving up if you can still avenge yourself.
No point in dying if you can live and see your enemies suffer.
So he made a deal with her. Promised her life and security in return for the magic potion that he needed to survive - that he needed to be physically able to return to his wife and to fight for their happiness.
She thought it was her victory, silly evil soul. She didn't realize what he, having died twice, knew for certainty: death is not to be feared - death is a blessing. Living is torture; she wants him to spare her life? Fine. She'll turn this life into hell, all on her own, even without his assistance.
And meanwhile, he can use her. For the potion now, and as leverage on Regina later. She deserved some pestering from her evil sister too, Regina, for that number she did on him with giving his son's apartment to her lover.
He left the hospital, promising his doctors he'll take care of himself, exercise, leave a peaceful healthy life. He was very collected and sober. He had much to do, and he knew he really should take good care of himself.
His every heartbeat now cost him a year of life. His every action would have to be measured from now on; his every thought controlled. That flicker of light and love he has in him still - he'd have to be very gentle with it. He'd have to be very calm. No fear, no anger, no rages - every dark emotion he might feel would draw on this light, dimming it.
No futile hopes, too. No wistful thinking. No longing for love.
He'd have to shut his heart down now, to forcefully make it indifferent to everything - he'd have to collect all the light he has for the moment, the final and crucial moment when he'd see Her again, and the light in her eyes would rekindle the light in his heart.
The rest was comparatively easy. Dealing with Robin Hood told him that his pitiful state, his new humiliating role of the powerless wizard cast out into the harsh world, is an advantage. People stopped fearing him - they felt superior and proud and could be manipulated with ease. The Sea Witch was his willing prey - she wanted a happy ending desperately, she was just a silly and kind girl lost in her ways. Cruella was trickier, her reasons for helping darker, but he knew she'd help, just for the sheer pleasure of witnessing his broken state and sneering at him. Tricking Belle with the help of the fake "professor" who translated the spell over e-mail for her was very, very pleasant: it was so nice to read her pleading request, and to answer it politely, and to receive her grateful answer... It was almost as good as talking to her - as he read her words he could see her concentrated eager face, see her biting her lower lip and smiling.
Playing out the comically tragical scene at the town line, letting his helpful witches see just how much he needed them and just how helpless without them he was, was almost fun. Almost, for he couldn't be completely certain they believe him; and he did depend on them...
He lived through several unpleasant moments when he thought they might abandon him beyond the line after all.
Humanity is cruel and frail when you are alone in the dark, and every second of your life could be your last.
Leaving this humanity beyond the town line, walking back into his realm felt... glorious. The moment he crossed the line, discarding his faithful cane in one swift gesture, his stance changed, his bearing changed, for he felt his power surging through his veins, and her presence electrifying his blood.
His hopes were justified, for once. His planning bore its' first fruits. Things were changing for the better.
All he had to do now was to see Belle and try to talk to her. Explain himself, finally - if she'd let him. He had to tell her what was happening - what he was planning and why. He owed it to her. He owed it to himself...
He could almost feel his heart getting lighter as he walked to his shop, knowing that she is inside - feeling her presence as he always felt it. Hope and love swelled in his chest, making him stronger.
And then he saw her - smiling, happy, bright and sweet, as she always was.
Kissing another man.
A dark blade fell on his heart, slicing off a great part of it, nearly breaking it. Anger. Confusion. And pain - pain most of all, pain acute and devastating. She betrayed him. She forgot him. She moved on - so soon, so easily... How could she? He did cast her off, many years ago, when he had too - he understood her need to cast him off now. But never, ever, in all the years he spent without her had he kissed another lips - had he even thought of any other woman but her.
How could she do that to him?..
He stood in the dark shadow across the street from his shop, raked with pain emotional and physical, unable to take his eyes off the window were she smiled brightly into the eyes of another man. The kiss was thankfully brief, they just chatted now. But she looked so happy. So relaxed. She looked almost as light and cheerful as she looked in his castle when they first loved each other - all the sadness that being with him brought into her life seemed gone. She was the girl he fell in love with, young and free again, for he wasn't casting a shadow on her life.
And thus, standing in his own shadow on an empty dark street, feeling a piece of his heart dying at her betrayal, he suddenly thought: this is what he always wanted for her. To be happy. To smile and to laugh. To be free. He always knew he was not good enough for her - she insisted on hoping, but he knew he could only ruin her, and he almost did. He let her go - many times, and she always came back, and he never knew why.
This time, she was not coming back.
And it must be for the better.
As long as she is happy, everything is for the better.
He told his son once: "I wanted you to be happy. And that happiness is possible - just not with me. I accept that". He was talking to his son, but he was also talking to her. And he meant it - every word. And, remembering the light that came into his heart as he said those words to them, just before dying to save them, he felt a fraction of that light enter his heart again.
And the piece of his heart that died when he saw her kiss another flickered back to life.
And he saw, clearly and coldly as in the harsh light of the winter sun, what he has to do now. He cannot approach her, cannot ask for her help or her forgiveness, cannot trouble her with his troubles - with his presence. His only hope of survival is her happiness, and her happiness is possible... Just not with him.
He accepted that.
He turned and walked away from her on shaking legs. He wanted to come back - wanted it more than anything in the world. But that would have been bad for her; and what is bad for her would kill him.
So he was very careful when he approached her - he had to do it, for he needed his dagger. Disguising himself as the pirate he easily convinced her to help, but getting his dagger back, though very important and essential to his plans, was nothing compared to the pleasure of walking beside her again, and sitting next to her in the car, scenting her hair and sensing the warmth of her skin.
And when she took the dagger out of its hiding-place and commanded the Dark One to face her, and he turned his head obediently, what a pleasure it was to hear her call - to feel her power - to do her bidding!
He couldn't resist coming back to her after that - he was human after all, he simply had to look into her eyes again. He was pleased to see that she liked his rose. He was happy to see her smile. And when he asked her if she forgot him, if she loved this new young man of hers, he really, really wanted her to say yes. He wanted her to set his mind and his heart at ease.
But a look of uncertainty and sadness entered her eyes at his question. She insisted she was happy enough, but he could see she was not telling the truth.
He knew her so well.
"I suppose I will never be over him", she said. And that was the truth.
And he saw her longing, and he felt her love, and he knew that his pat to goodness would not be easy. It would have been easy to let her go, as he knew he should.
But that was not what she wanted or needed. As always, she wanted him to come back for her - changed, repentant, reformed... And alive.
And as her soft hand touched his heart, hidden in the pirate's chest, and a searing pain pierced it at the memory of all the sweetness and warmth he lost, he realized that he had to act fast and do all he can, for with suffering so much and loving her so much he might just fail her.
He had to fight his battles and do his tricks and bring hope and faith back into her life. But soon there will be no time for that - no time for anything at all.
And still he had to hope. For himself, and for her.
