He didn't have a plan. The journey from the town's border was simply to get his bearings. His family, he reminded himself, was his new purpose. He was there for his family.
His stomach growled. He needed food and shelter and the first place he thought of was the pink Victorian home he had given to Henry. Surely by now he had broken the blood magic and was utilizing it already? Rumple tried to remember what happened after he and Belle crossed into Storybrooke. Did they go straight to the house? Did Arthur ever use it? He struggled to remember. It was a long time ago. There wasn't anything of significance in the house, at least not for Arthur. Rumple couldn't think of anything in the house that would aid in the completion of the hat's transaction so he knew Arthur wouldn't be anywhere near the residence. It would be abandoned. If that was the case, then there would be food, clothing and shelter already waiting for him, or so he hoped and assumed.
Conspicuously, Rumple ducked and dodged to avoid any human interaction. He managed to not be seen as he scurried deeper into the housing developments to walk to his house. Finally, he reached a familiar street corner and his speed picked up. Was it excitement? Was it joy? Where was this energy coming from? He ran onto the property and with full force climbed the first steps. As soon as he reached the top step he was immediately repelled backwards onto the lawn.
Surprised and with the wind knocked out of him, he laid there on the grass confused. Why didn't Henry break the spell? Why wasn't Henry using the house? Although he lost his breath, the momentum was still there. He got up as he struggled to breathe and waved his hands over the house disarming it. He walked closer to the door and placed his hand over the doorknob. The knob burned and cooled simultaneously, recognizing his blood and he opened the door.
He finally caught his breath and entered the house. Almost instantly, he felt like he was transported back in time. He closed the door behind him and placed the stick he was using as a crutch up against the wall. He hobbled slowly over to the staircase loving each moment as he remembered this old, but good life. He remembered their wedding night. He remembered kissing his wife as they made their way up the stairs. Rumplestiltskin ran his hand along the stairway banister and remembered stripping himself of his wedding clothes and tossing them along the banister as they both made it up to their bedroom. Rumple made it to the top of the stairs and walked down the hallway to the many rooms. Their bedroom door was closed but at the end of the hall Lily's nursery door remained open. The natural light from the nursery room bounced off of the open door and was almost like a neon sign beckoning him to come forward.
Rumple approached the old nursery room and stood within the door's threshold staring into it as he reflected. The room was barren, but in his mind it was still filled with Lily's baby things. He leaned up against the frame as he recalled the nights he spent in the nursery instead of their bedroom. He remembered being the first one to respond to Lily's cry and being the first to change and feed her. He took joy in that. Why wasn't that enough? His stomach growled again. He needed to eat.
Rumple went back down to the kitchen, but knew there wouldn't be anything there. He could have conjured up food, but he needed to preserve his magic. He had been so incredibly burned by his pursuit of magic that it almost made him superstitious to use it. He needed to find money. He searched around the house and tried to recall all of the hiding spots. He checked beneath a hidden loose floorboard up against the wall in the living room and discovered a roll of bills bound in a rubber band he had left behind. Trust in his past self's own ability to see into the future to make his own luck.
… …
Evening had arrived and under the cloak of night he walked to the nearest convenient store. Thankfully, the Rabbit Hole was the choice of scenery for the town's night life versus Clark's Drug and Convenient store. Rumple quickly walked in looking for the bare essentials; toilet paper, soap, dishwashing detergent, pasta, sauce, eggs, butter, bread, coffee filters and coffee. He brought the items up to the counter and did his best to avoid eye-contact with Clark at the register. Clark eyed him suspiciously as he rung up the individual items and bagged it for him.
"Have we met before? I feel like I recognize you from somewhere…" asked Clark with a stuffed up nose, trying to make conversation. Rumple kept it brief by smiling and lied, "Perhaps. Though, I very much doubt it since my grandson is usually the one who gets my groceries for me. I decided to give him the night off."
Rumple paid Clark what was owed and left the store taking haven in the darkness once more. He made it back to the house, made dinner and ate. With the recently purchased soap bar he went directly up to their bedroom, grabbing a clean towel from within the linen closet along the way and took a long needed shower in the bedroom's bathroom. As the evening progressed he found that he couldn't sleep. After having slept for so long under the curse of the Sorcerer's hat, it was of no wonder why he felt so restless. So instead he cleaned up his meal and ventured down into the basement where he kept a small warehouse of magical items and potions. He busied himself till sunrise, perfecting and gathering enough tonic to create a youth potion for himself.
He didn't need to drink the potion just yet. Instead he held on to it along with the dagger and went out into Storybrooke to explore and remember. Without a doubt Arthur already had a plan set in place and already knew what would become of everyone. Rumple needed to remember how the hat was handed off to him long ago. Rumple needed to remember why he was doing all of this; why he was following Arthur's commands and fulfilling the Author's story. He had to remember and to figure it out in time before his family arrived and he knew of only one object that could help him remember and it was in his shop.
After eating leftovers for brunch and downing his cup of coffee, he ventured back out into town again, leaving the walking stick he had acquired behind by the coat rack. He took back-ways and alleys to get to the shop, but as he got close he noticed through the shop's window that it was still being occupied by Arthur. He couldn't enter the shop while Arthur was around. He needed to wait until he was gone. Suddenly the Storybrooke clock tower chimed, signaling that it was noon. He looked up at the clock and realized that the clock tower had an excellent view of the town from the clock's face.
Rumple walked into the open and unattended library and made his way toward the elevator. He twisted a few knobs and cranked the outer wheel to open the doors and made his way inside the contraption. Once inside, he pressed forward on a lever and was elevated to the top of the tower. The doors opened up and he climbed the metal staircase to peer through the clock-face windows. The whirring and turning of the clock's gears could be heard moving in the background as he saw perfectly before him the main vendors of Main Street; the Pawn Shop, Granny's Diner, the Bed and Breakfast, the Post office, the convenient store and the Sheriff's station.
He looked out through the clock's tower, watching and waiting for Arthur to leave and make his move, but he didn't. When no one of particular importance roamed the street, Rumple pulled out the dagger to inspect the curse that had started all of this. When he chose to go after the dagger, out of desperation he felt he had no other way to save his son. If only he could have been able to see into the future then, that he did have a choice, how might his life have been different? Would he still have his son? He wondered about his current circumstance now. Did he still have a choice? Was there even a choice? What was the choice? At first he wished he still had the ability to see into the future, but then he realized that he could still see into the future. He was the future. He was that option; the option of choosing that hat. He was his own best chance at figuring out a way to save himself from Arthur's story. But if he was that option, then what was the other option? What if he didn't choose the hat? What were the risks? And how could he present that to his past self?
No. Stick to the plan and complete the Author's story, he argued with himself. He didn't like how the Author had so much power over him; dictating what it was he had to do just so he could watch himself make another horrid decision all over again. It was torture being perpetually haunted by the mistakes you've made in your past. He wasn't happy about Arthur's plan for him, but at least Arthur had a plan and it was an easy one at that; convince his past self to take the hat. It was a plan that promised his happy ending. Then why did he feel so miserable doing it? Shouldn't he feel happy? Why has the Author fated him for misery? Didn't he deserve to be happy? Didn't he deserve to be with his family? He certainly waited long enough. When does it end? How can he break the cycle?
It all just felt wrong and he felt gypped. Suddenly a curious thought popped into his head. Why did Arthur show fear when he made a threat to him about harming his daughter? If there was fear, then it was possible to change the story. Why else would the Author be afraid? If it was possible to change the story, then surely this misery could end. Right? Sure it would be easy to convince his past self to take the hat, but was it the right thing to do? Was it right to perpetually help Arthur in the taking away of his own family from himself?
His memory of the day he took on the hat came in flashes. At the time, he justified in his mind that he would see his family again just as the older Rumplestiltskin before him had and would finish out the rest of his older days with Belle and Lily and be happy. If he ran off with the Author's hat, then surely his future self would end up with Belle and Lily. Wouldn't he? Would Belle even accept him, even after all that was said and done? Could that be guaranteed? Was that what the Author had intended? Was that the Author's definition of his happy ending? As much as Rumple wanted his happy ending, he still doubted it. Was his penance in taking on the hat really worth being away from his family like that?
What would the repercussions of screwing up the timeline be? He wondered. It would certainly be one way of destroying the Author's story. However, changing the timeline would involve another self-sacrifice by means of self-destruct and Rumple wasn't sure he wanted to do that to himself or put his family through that just yet. What if… the hat never existed? If Henry never got the hat to give to his future self, then wouldn't the timeline correct itself? Wouldn't he still be living with Belle and Lily in New York? Sure he'd have no recollection of it and no way to know for sure, but wouldn't that be worth it?
He wasn't sure. All he knew was that at this moment he wanted to live long enough to see his family again and wasn't about to make any decision until that happened. Once he saw his family he would know what to do and know that it was all worth it in the end.
Every once in a while he would look down from the clock face and notice a person he recognized. He recognized Emma walking down the street with Killian by her side as they headed towards Granny's. Even from afar he could see their wedding bands glint and glimmer in the sun's light. Rumple smirked to himself over the union. He could have had that with Belle and Lily.
He watched as both Emma and Killian entered the diner and then moments later leave the diner with coffee in their hands. Emma parted ways with Killian as she crossed the street to the Pawn Shop to see her son. Rumple's eyes remained focused on the shop. He waited with bated breath to see the outcome of that interaction and wasn't surprised to see that the conversation didn't last long. It was only for about ten minutes that the door to the shop opened again. When Emma came back outside she had a confused look upon her face. Rumple knew exactly what that look was. He could tell that she definitely suspected something, but couldn't articulate what it was. She shook her head and turned down the street towards the Sheriff's station.
He waited for a few more hours, but Arthur never left. Rumple also noticed and found it curious that Arthur never slept or ate. Did I ever eat or sleep? He wondered as he tried to remember what it was like being enslaved by the Author. It bothered him that he couldn't remember what being under the control of the hat was like. All the images in his mind were jumbled and foggy. He could somewhat remember being in the Enchanted Forest, saying or doing things against his will. But then there were these other images; inexplicable images. Like seeing a pair of hands. Were they his hands? They were on a keyboard typing feverishly away at a computer screen. Typing what? The image didn't make sense. Why would he be seeing that? Could it be possible that he… saw into another world? The Author's world?
Dusk was quickly approaching and darkness had settled once again in Storybrooke. Looking down upon the main intersection in front of the library, he remembered the showdown between sisters; Zelena and Regina. He remembered sacrificing himself for his loved ones by killing himself with his father. He remembered… that it was in the library that he was handed the hat! It was here in the library! It was all slowly coming back to him. What a fool he was to have accepted the hat! He thought to himself as he shook his head. Despite having just remembered where the hat was handed off to him, he still wanted the object that was in the shop.
It was getting late so he decided to call it a night. It was obvious that Arthur wasn't going to leave the Pawn Shop. He would have to come back for the item later, perhaps when Arthur left to go abduct his daughter. Suddenly, Rumple realized that Arthur would be leaving soon and that his past self would be arriving from New York shortly after. What happened next? What did he and Belle do next when they entered Storybrooke? He wondered. The shop! The Dagger's Command and then… the house. They, his wife and past self, would soon be occupying the pink Victorian house. He needed to go back and collect things that wouldn't arouse suspicion.
He descended back down the elevator and discreetly exited the library. The night was his friend and he tried to utilize its shadows by staying close to the walls to hide his existence. Suddenly he heard someone talking in the distance. He scurried to the side wall of the closest shop next door to the library and leaned against it. The voices neared his position and he immediately recognized the woman's voice; Regina. She was… laughing?
"…why do you always do that?" she said to her companion as Rumple heard kissing sounds.
"Because, my adorable wife… I can."
The companion Rumple suddenly recognized was Robin Hood, kissing Regina repetitively on the nose and neck. Wife? Robin and Regina finally tied the knot, extrapolated Rumplestiltskin. Rumple looked on conflicted as the amorous couple passed by him. He was happy for his old apprentice to have finally found love, but was envious for not having what they had; what he should have had all along. Storybrooke had really become a paradise, a utopia, and a safe haven for love. Perhaps this was Camelot, he wondered. He wanted to believe it to be so, that there was still hope for love left for him. Would Belle ever forgive me? He wanted to believe it to be possible.
Rumple crossed the street and noticed the lights in the Pawn Shop were turned off. Did Arthur finally leave? Rumple walked to the front of the shop and peered in through the windows. It was vacant. He waved his hand over the front door and managed to easily get into his old shop. It was suspiciously easy, so Rumple treaded carefully. He looked at the menagerie of items that still remained in the glass cases and was amazed at how well Henry had maintained the place. As much as he struggled to remember the events that led up to his current existence, his memory of all the items in the shop were of the contrary. In fact, for each object he passed by he remembered every deal he ever made. At the revelation he realized that if he was recalling the magical properties of all the objects in the room so vividly, then his past self would surely remember them vividly as well. It was something to be noted.
Each item he saw could potentially lead his past self toward the temptation of accruing more power. If he was reminded on his lust for power it would inherently lead to his need for the hat. Perhaps that was why the shop opened up to him so easily and perhaps, this was one way for him to change the story. Rumple made a mental note to steer his past self away from the shop.
Seconds were eating away at the hour as he stood there reflecting. Every minute spent in the shop would be another risked moment at whatever Arthur had planned. He came into the shop to retrieve just one object and if this was the only moment to retrieve it then he needed to make his time here count. He quickly looked into the cases around him and on the shelves. Henry had certainly organized and changed things from the last he remembered of the place and it disoriented him for a bit. Nevertheless, everything was organized accordingly. Jewelry was placed in one section, books and papers on the shelf of a wall, lost toys on another shelf, mugs, dishes, and cups…
He gravitated towards the dishware in the glass container and found it; their chipped cup. The object he was looking for. He removed the cherished memorabilia from the case and held it delicately in his hand. He kissed it and carried it with him, cradling it like a newborn babe as he left the shop.
As soon as he arrived at the pink Victorian house, he turned on the kitchen light to examine the cup. He remembered… love and regret. His fingers lightly traced the rim of the cup until it reached the chip. How delicate, vulnerable and perfect this cup was that symbolized their love. Despite it being late in the evening he brewed himself another cup of coffee. As the coffee bubbled and simmered he continued to stare at the cup intensely. Out loud, he asked the cup as if asking Belle, "My love, what do I do?"
Some more Future Rumple Post-Sorcerer Hat. Not much to say about this chapter other than it's more of a layered upon layered Rumple self-analysis of his situation. He regrets his decision. He misses his family. He wants his happy ending, but wants to get rid of the Author. So his visiting these places is his way of jogging his memory and hopes that by remembering he can understand and figure a way out of this complex problem. Hopefully these chapters make you believe I've captured his thought process.
Thank you so much again to Imusicluver23, Grace5231973, BreathingintheSun, ladybugsmomma and Montreat11 for reviewing! Summertime seems to be hectic for all of us. I know you all are doing amazing things with your extraordinary lives outside of fanfiction, so it truly touches me to read your reviews because time is precious and you took some of your time out of your day to leave wonderful helpful thoughts. Thank you! See you next chapter!