Chapter Forty-Five—"Trust and Family"

"Grandpa?"

Henry rushed to his side as Rumplestiltskin swayed precariously, a rainbow of colors swimming across his vision. Vaguely, he could make out his grandson rushing towards him, and a distant part of Rumplestiltskin's mind was very grateful that the worst of his re-opened wounds were hidden by the clothes that Danns been kind enough not to strip off him this time. She'd left him everything from his leather boots to the vest he wore over the blood-red silk shirt Rumplestiltskin had been wearing when he was playing chess with Henry, what seemed an eternity earlier. His dragonhide coat was probably still somewhere in the Charmings' castle, but he had spares if he couldn't get it back. Thankfully, the color of his shirt disguised the dried and not-so-dried blood sticking to it, and the golden vest hid the worst of it.

Reaching his side, Henry started to move a hand towards Rumplestiltskin's shoulder, and then stopped. How much did the lad know? Henry had always been entirely too perceptive.

"Hey, Henry," he managed to wheeze. The bronze band around his neck was impossibly tight now; every breath was a strained gasp. Worse yet, he was blind again. The rest of the reserve of magic he had stolen from the Black Fairy had been depleted in his failed attempt to remove those five bronze bands blocking his magic, and Rumplestiltskin felt empty once more. Trapped. Helpless.

"Grandpa, what happened?" the thirteen year old asked worriedly, brown eyes huge. But Henry didn't panic; no, his grandson was made of much sterner stuff than that. Without waiting for an answer, Henry squared his shoulders and asked a far more intelligent question: "What can I do?"

Rumplestiltskin coughed painfully, and tried to straighten, his left arm still anchored around his midsection and breathing hard. He hadn't expected Henry to be here, hadn't been sure anyone would be here—how long had it been? A week? A year? Henry didn't seem any older, but centuries had passed since Rumplestiltskin had really paid attention to how old children looked at certain ages. Besides, seeing through the agony was complicated; he was pretty sure that Henry wasn't bouncing up and down, but his vision and tripped-up equilibrium thought he was. Finally, he managed to straighten enough to answer Henry, managed to scrape up enough energy to speak, scratchy though his voice was.

"Who…who else is here?" he whispered weakly, the room starting to spin. Abruptly, Rumplestiltskin realized he didn't have much time; he was probably going to pass out soon, and if he did that, enough time might pass before he woke for Danns to get into the Dark Castle. No wards were perfect, and she was good at—Focus, you fool! he ordered himself dizzily.

"Um—" Henry started to respond, but Rumplestiltskin shook his head to cut him off. Bad idea. That only made the room spin faster, and he coughed out a cry that he couldn't bite back, not even for his grandson's benefit.

"Never mind that," Rumplestiltskin managed to interrupt. "I need"—another cough shook his entire body, hard—"a wand. From the cabinet. There."

Trying to point almost made Rumplestiltskin topple, but Henry seemed to get the message. The brave lad jumped to his feet and rushed towards the cabinet set into the far wall, yanking the glass doors open quickly enough that they creaked ominously.

"Where are they?" Henry asked, twisting to look at Rumplestiltskin.

Blackness was starting to creep in on the edges of his vision. "They're—"

"Papa?" a new voice asked, and suddenly Baelfire was at his side. Rumplestiltskin's world tipped on its axis and he almost fell, only to be caught by his son's arm around his shoulders. "Oh, God, Papa, what happened?"

"The Black Fairy, of course," he replied with a breathless laugh that caught in his throat. But trying to make light of the situation only made him even more light headed, and Rumplestiltskin collapsed into Bae's waiting arms. Slumping against his son, Rumplestiltskin felt his body convulse briefly—no, the bands really didn't like him having used magic like that.

"You've got to stop doing this to yourself," his son breathed.

Somehow, Bae got him lying down, his head in Bae's lap. Spasms ran through his body every few seconds, and lighting flashed across his eyes as a gentle hand brushed hair out of his face. Without meaning to, Rumplestiltskin moaned at the contact; everything hurt as the adrenaline that had gotten him this far faded out of his system. His focus was fading rapidly, and the pain was starting to occupy more and more of his consciousness. Thinking was growing harder and harder, but suddenly Henry was there, the entire box of wands in his hands.

"I didn't know which one you wanted," his grandson said with a crookedly hopeful smile.

"That's…fine." Rumplestiltskin tried to sit up, only to have a massive wave of dizziness knock him back down again. Just thinking about magic made the bands tighten once more, and he choked out another moan.

"Which one do you need, Papa?" Bae asked, grabbing Rumplestiltskin's right hand as it flailed blindly for the box.

"Black. Black…and silver. With…silver swirls coming away from the grip."

He had to close his eyes, just for a moment, and hoped that doing so would make the room stop spinning. Under any other circumstances, Rumplestiltskin would not have allowed himself to show such weakness, would not have allowed himself to slump into his son's lap, but he was home. This was the Dark Castle, and only his son and his grandson were nearby. At least there weren't hundreds of random people in his castle, now, and Rumplestiltskin didn't feel the overwhelming need to hole up somewhere away from prying eyes. He didn't like appearing weak, even in front of Bae and Henry, but at least they were family.

"There's not one in here like that," his son replied after a moment, and Rumplestiltskin's eyes flew open. It was probably too much to ask that the Black Fairy's wand had wound up in with his collection, but he had hoped. Perhaps the wand had wound up back in his vault, but entering the void beneath his castle required magic, and—

"Rumple?" another voice cut in, and suddenly Belle was at his side, grabbing his right hand in her own after Bae relinquished it.

"Hi," he whispered, chest still tight. And he might as well take the plunge before he passed out. Belle was bound to be angry, so angry. "I'm sorry. So…sorry."

"I'm just glad you're okay." Lips touched his hands, and a ghost of a smile crossed Rumplestiltskin's face. But his vision was going wonky again, so he closed his eyes once more, breathing hard.

"What now, Papa?" Bae asked, touching his shoulder gently. Without meaning to, Rumplestiltskin flinched slightly; his body was starting to tell him that seven days of repeated torture was just too much, and there was still too much dark fairy magic racing through his system.

A thought occurred to him, only to be dismissed just as quickly. This was too much for even True Love's Kiss to miraculously fix; so long as those bands were present, the magic would continue to feed into his system and eat away at him. Even Belle's love couldn't fix this, no more than it could back in Bremen. He needed magic. Nothing else would do the trick—and then a cry tore out of Rumplestiltskin as he convulsed. The sound surprised even him, as did the pain accompanying it; Henry jumped and he thought he heard Bae swear. Yes, even thinking of using magic made the bands tighten, and soon enough he wouldn't be able to breathe.

Could that kill him? So far as he knew, the only thing that could kill an original power would be a secondary power, yet asphyxiation would still be no fun. Lack of oxygen was starting to make his lungs burn already. How much more could the bands tighten? Rumplestiltskin did not want to find out. The dizziness was becoming a vortex of random colors and was currently trying to drag him down into a whirlpool of pain and darkness. His body was starting to twitch, either from the effects of the magic feeding into his bloodstream or lack of air. Belatedly, Rumplestiltskin realized that he'd drifted away from his son's question when Bae shook his shoulder carefully.

"Papa?"

"Sorry." The word came out in a gasp as he dug into his memory. "I need…a wand. Most powerful one in there. Should be…golden."

He could hear rummaging around, wands knocking against one another. Finally, Bae replied: "This one?"

Rumplestiltskin couldn't see; he tried to gesture with his right hand when turning his head didn't work, but the effort failed when his fingers refused to work properly. Still, Bae seemed to understand what he wanted, because suddenly the wand was in front of Rumplestiltskin's face.

"Yeah," he whispered weakly, barely able to make the wand out. "Give it…"

Finishing the sentence was beyond his strength; had Danns done something so that he would lose strength so rapidly if he escaped? She'd been several steps ahead of him lately; was this just another time when the Black Fairy would run rings around him? No. That was his fears talking, not logic. Whatever he had stolen power from at the end had been potent enough that Rumplestiltskin could draw sufficient strength from it, and that meant the same spell was still ripping through him because he couldn't stop it.

Bae put the wand in his hand, but Rumplestiltskin couldn't make his fingers close around it. Were his eyes open? He couldn't tell. Colors were flashing through his vision again, and Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure if he was breathing or not. Was the wand in his hand? He could barely feel its weight, and his fingers were absolutely numb.

"Grandpa?" Henry asked, his worried voice sounding like it was coming from a great distance.

"What do you need to do?" Bae asked hurriedly, but Rumplestiltskin couldn't focus right. Belle, however, seemed to know exactly what had to be done, and she bent to kiss him gently.

Power surged through him, a wave of light pushing back the darkness just enough. Rumplestiltskin still couldn't breathe right, but True Love flowing through his body gave him a little strength.

"Rumple?" Belle whispered. "You in there?"

True Love, however, couldn't make his hands work right. But Rumplestiltskin could manage to answer: "Still here."

Talking was starting to burn.

"What do you need to do, Papa?" Bae asked again.

"The bands," he got out with an effort. "Have to get them…off. Can't get at my magic. With them on. Need…fairy magic to get them—off."

"Can't anyone do fairy magic, so long as the wand has magic in it?" Belle, brilliant as she always was, asked.

"More or less." Rumplestiltskin scrunched his eyes shut, fighting back blackness. Of course Belle remembered seeing Robin use magic to save Marian, so many years before. "Easier if you have magic, though."

"I felt magic before. Would that help?" his son wondered.

Floating in pain as he was, Rumplestiltskin had all but forgotten that. But Bae had felt magic, back when Titania and those other two fae had come to try to take Henry from Charming's castle, hadn't he? Then, he'd known that his son had somehow developed an aptitude for magic (naturally, unlike how Rumplestiltskin had done so), but he'd been too wary of ruining his relationship with Baelfire to mention it. Rumplestiltskin knew that Bae still sometimes blamed magic for what had happened between the two of them, for how becoming the Dark One ruined the close relationship between father and son, and he was too much of a coward to bring magic between them once more. Until Bae brought it up now.

"Might," he wheezed in response, trying one last time to close his hand on the wand. He could still vaguely feel its weight in his palm, but his fingers absolutely would not respond to his commands. Magic could do a lot to reawaken a deadened limb, so he was certain he could fix any issues caused by lack of circulation later, but at the moment his hands were useless.

"Then tell me what to do and I'll do it," Bae said resolutely, and Rumplestiltskin was so overcome by love for his boy that he could say nothing for a long moment.

"Rumple?" Belle asked when he hesitated, kissing him on the forehead this time, but the effect was the same. Again, the light brought by her love pushed back the darkness; again, it bought him time.

"Find a good emotion," Rumplestiltskin whispered, his voice scratchy and barely audible. Dark magic would never be his son's forte; Bae had always been better than that. "Something…powerful. A memory, or a hope. Focus on that."

Come to think of it, his grandson could probably do this just as well as his son, maybe better. But Rumplestiltskin was not about to ask a worried thirteen year old to harness his emotions, not now. Not like this. Thirteen was too young to learn magic, anyway. Henry would be willing, but Rumplestiltskin would not even bring it up. With someone else, perhaps he would not have been so selfless, but Henry was his grandson. Learning magic too early did bad things to children, always had.

Where was Emma, anyway? She'd be the best choice, but there wasn't time to wonder.

"Okay. Now what?" Typical Baelfire; when he focused on something, he got there right away.

"Take the wand. Push…your focus through it. Hold that thought and use it to bend the magic to your will." Saying such a long sentence left Rumplestiltskin breathless, and he coughed pitifully. Belle squeezed his hands—when had she grabbed them? He could barely feel her fingers against his.

He had to focus. Couldn't pass out. Would the bands or his own magic keep him conscious? Rumplestiltskin was not sure. Finally, a breath rattled its way in past the band around his neck and he coughed hard, air tingling painfully in his lungs.

"You have to…will it. Just…tell it what you want, will it, and the magic will obey."

"There are five of them," Belle helpfully added the details Rumplestiltskin's mind was too addled to remember. "Tink did the ankles or the wrists first, and then his neck."

"Right." Rumplestiltskin could practically hear Bae concentrating, could feel the power building. A distant part of his mind realized that while his beloved son would never be the powerhouse Emma might become, Bae wasn't without power; he'd make quite a sorcerer if he put his mind to it. If.

Suddenly, the pressure on his ankles ceased, and before Rumplestiltskin could say a word, blood rushed back towards his fingertips as the bands popped off his wrists. Desperate magic surged—Baelfire's mixed with the fairy magic left by the yellow fairy he'd killed to make a deal with Cinderella—and then he could breathe again, air roaring into his lungs in a giant gasp.

"You did it, Dad!" Henry cried triumphantly, but Rumplestiltskin barely heard his grandson.

Awareness slammed into him, magic filling his mind, his fingers, his soul. He let out one relieved breath, and then another, not caring if the pain was suddenly greater as his mind worked its way out the fog. He could feel now, was no longer blind and dumb. The offness he'd felt ever since Danns had surprised him with those magic-blocking bands vanished, and when Rumplestiltskin's eyes slid open, he could see clearly for the first time in what felt like forever. The great hall, slid into focus, colors no longer merged together in one giant blur. Relief coursed through him, making him feel weak and strong all at once. He wasn't helpless, not now. Never again.

"Yeah," Bae answered his own son, sounding rather surprised. "I did."

"Thank you, Bae," Rumplestiltskin managed to whisper, his voice still scratchy, but at least his throat no longer felt like it was burning with every word.

And now he could make out the lopsided smile his son was throwing his way. "Any time, Pop."

Freeing a hand from Belle's gasp, Rumplestiltskin reached out for his son, and was glad when Baelfire met him halfway, grabbing the hand and holding on tightly. Rumplestiltskin was still too weak to match his son's grip, but he did scrape up a smile. Who would have thought, back when Bae had wanted to kick him out of his apartment in Manhattan, that they could come this far? Rumplestiltskin had never imagined that they might heal their relationship this much, but here he was, with his head in his son's lap and surrounded by his family, including the grandson he had not known he had for so very long. He wasn't sure when Bae and Henry had joined Belle in his castle—or when she had gotten back—but Rumplestiltskin was so very glad they were there.

"So, uh, anyone want to explain to me what in the world is going on here?" a fifth voice suddenly asked, and Rumplestiltskin managed to turn his head to see a rather confused Emma Swan standing not too far away.

The habitual sarcastic remark died on Rumplestiltskin's lips when Bae looked up at the Charmings' daughter like she was the only light in his world. "I, uh, can do magic?" his son said with a very crooked grin. Henry's mother shrugged.

"Yeah, I noticed. Walked in just in time to see that." She looked down at Rumplestiltskin. "You're a mess."

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious," he murmured, throat still sore.

"What now?" Belle interjected before the two of them could embark in a verbal sparring match. That she did so was probably a very good thing; Rumplestiltskin, much though he didn't want to admit it, was not up to keeping up with someone as swift as Emma at the moment.

"I need…some sleep," he admitted softly, still seeing a rainbow of colors when he wasn't forcing himself to concentrate. "Then I can heal myself. I'll be fine."

"Will another kiss help?" Belle sounded hopeful and worried and a little bit angry all at the same time, and he couldn't blame her. One of these days, Rumplestiltskin would figure out a way to conquer the problems dark fairy magic wrecked on his system, but he still didn't have one, so he just nodded and let True Love do its work. Closing his eyes as their lips met, Rumplestiltskin felt himself relax ever so slightly, felt Belle's love making him stronger.

This time, he felt more than marginally better, at least. Without the bands to keep their True Love from uniting with his power, the pure magic raced through his system, tingling through limbs and giving Rumplestiltskin at least the illusion of strength. His vision cleared a little, and he could feel his breathing ease. The pain didn't vanish; True Love would break any curse and could pull you back from death's door, but it was no cure-all panacea, and Rumplestiltskin hadn't expected it to be. Sucking in an experimental deep breath, he amended what he had said before, not wanting to seem weak in front of his family. Or Emma. He wasn't sure if she was family or not yet, but, well… "If you help me up, I can walk."

"You're an idiot," Emma snorted before anyone else could speak up. Rumplestiltskin grimaced. Unfortunately, she probably could see more than he wanted her to, and he lacked the energy to put up a glamour of any sort, or to stop her from figuring out exactly what was wrong with him. He was still so damn tired.

But not so tired that he couldn't glare at her.

"Do try to contribute something useful next time, dearie," Rumplestiltskin snapped.

"Fine. Then how about I heal you, and then you walk?" the princess retorted.

"You sure you can manage that without bringing the castle down around us?" he demanded, the words coming out half a wheeze. Damn his weakness! She always brought out the worst in him, Emma did. A part of Rumplestiltskin had always liked the fact that Emma stood up to him, but there were times when she just drove him mad. Times he was hurting and was dead tired were definitely on the top of that list—and he didn't like the idea of someone else healing him. No, he preferred to trust his own magic for that, to trust himself over the Charmings' damn daughter…at least when he could see straight.

"Rumple," Belle admonished him, even as Bae choked on laughter.

"How about you just say please and thank you, Papa?" his son chuckled.

Rumplestiltskin glared, but Emma still dropped unceremoniously onto the floor next to him, sitting between Bae and Henry, crossing her legs and arching an eyebrow. "Well?" she said expectantly.

"Try not to break my castle with careless magic," he grumbled, too tired to argue. "Or me."

Still, he took a firm hold on his magic, feeling the way his power started responding to his irritation. No, he was in no shape to heal himself; holding onto his own wild emotions was hard enough at the moment. A week—if it had been a week—of pain and terror left Rumplestiltskin in no shape to harness his emotions and thus his magic, or at least not until he had a bit of time to bring himself back under control. Last time, his magic had taken over and healed him, saved him, acting before Rumplestiltskin knew what was happening. Now, however, he apparently had another option. Little though he liked to admit it, that was probably a good thing…because he wasn't so badly off that his magic would take over to save his life, but he also wasn't coherent enough to do the job himself.

"And deprive you of the opportunity to complain? Not a chance," Emma grinned, but Rumplestiltskin could see a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

Great. Am I going to walk her through this, too? Rumplestiltskin could feel the darkness starting to edge in on him again, could feel Danns' magic starting to take over his system once more. Everything was starting to hurt all over again, and his mind was getting a little scrambled. Healing was far more complicated than what he'd just coached Bae through doing, and Rumplestiltskin wasn't entirely sure that he'd be able to follow Emma's work, let alone take her through the process step by step. After all, there were so many distractions around…Belle, Bae, Henry…what if the lad started to—

Grimacing, he closed his eyes tightly, forcing his mind back to the matter at hand when it started to drift. No. Emma had come further than that. She didn't need someone to hold her hand and tell her what to do—she was Emma Swan. She needed a swift kick in the rear end, sometimes, but she knew what she had to do. Emma just needed someone to remind her that she could do it, not to someone tell her how. Not that it made Rumplestiltskin any happier with the idea of someone else healing him, but the pain was only getting worse as True Love faded out of his system. Dark Fairy dust was known for being difficult to eradicate, and the magic that came from it was capable of digging in even deeper. Danns had had a week to get her claws into him, and right now Rumplestiltskin really could feel them stabbing in.

No. Years of magical experience told him that waiting would only make things worse. Who knew what kind of traps Danns had laid while he couldn't stop her? Rumplestiltskin knew that the Black Fairy had let more than a few behind, but he hadn't been able to identify all of them at the time. And yet there was no way Danns had anticipated Emma's presence here, or had expected Bae, of all people, to be able to remove the bands. Defeating the Black Fairy's magic on him might very well take all three of them—Bae to free him, Emma to heal him, and Rumplestiltskin to dismantle the traps she'd laid that even Belle's kiss could not destroy. Like it or not, he lacked the strength to do accomplish even two of the three needed tasks, and that meant he had to push aside his pride and paranoia.

"Fine," Rumplestiltskin snapped. "Just get on with it."

At least none of them expected him to be gracious when he was hurting this much; even Bae smiled wanly when his father snarled at the woman he loved, still holding Rumplestiltskin's head in his lap while Belle held Rumplestiltskin's hands. Emma, thankfully, was rock solid under pressure, her eyes clear and focused.

"Slow and steady wins the race, right?" the savior asked him, magic building around her.

"Yeah." White light flared in front of his eyes as Rumplestiltskin rasped the rest: "Harness that emotion and think."

"Right."

Belle squeezed his hands gently, and Rumplestiltskin tried to smile. The effort collapsed into a groan, however, as his own power tried to react to Emma's, and Rumplestiltskin barely grabbed ahold of it in time. A hiss of pain escaped from behind suddenly clenched teeth as he struggled to contain his magic; it had been chained for far too long, trapped too well, and wanted to lash out. Fed by his wrung out emotions, by his lingering terror, the power strained against his hold, beating against Rumplestiltskin's internal defenses. It didn't care that Emma had nothing to do with trapping it, didn't care that Emma was trying to help. The power wanted a target, and Emma was the most magical person it could find.

"Speaking of bringing down the castle…" Emma trailed off meaningfully, but Rumplestiltskin was still too preoccupied with his internal battle to catch the hint in her voice until Bae added:

"It's getting kind of windy in here, Papa."

He sucked in a shakily gasp, hating how pained it was. Bae was right; he had to control this, even though every fiber of his being screamed at him to just let his raging power loose. "Give me a moment."

"Rumple? Whose magic is this?" Belle asked gently. Worriedly. "Is the Black Fairy…?"

"It's his," Emma guessed astutely. "Can you get ahold of it, Gold? I don't think me trying to heal you when your magic wants to go wild is such a good idea."

Rumplestiltskin managed to snort. "Give the girl a medal." Finally, he wrapped his mental fingers around the right threads, bolstering the normal barriers which he kept his magic slumbering behind until needed. Fire burned throughout his consciousness, but Rumplestiltskin brought the furious power back under control, wrapping his wild emotions up in a cocoon that isolated them from his magic. The words hurt coming out: "Go ahead."

Emma didn't bother to respond; she just acted. Rumplestiltskin had to give her credit: it was plain that the savior had been practicing since the lesson he'd given her, and she definitely had a better—and more confident—grip on her magic now than ever before. It probably helps that she doesn't like me enough to get really worried about me, he thought with wry amusement. When Emma had healed her father, it had been in an emotion and fear driven rush. Now, however, she was dispassionate enough to pull the right pieces together, to carefully restore what was broken (torn and bruised) rather than power her way through a quick fix. Moment by moment, she knitted broken bones together and smoothed wounds away, warmth sweeping through Rumplestiltskin's system as she worked.

The pain eased almost immediately, although the pressure of darkness within him remained. Healing wasn't able to entirely speed his recovery from a week's worth of malnutrition, but it could mitigate some of the problems making him feel so weak, and Rumplestiltskin felt strength easing back into his limbs. The horrible dizziness started to recede, and when he opened his eyes again, he could make out his family's faces without too much blurring them together. Of course, the darkness reared up immediately, stealing into the cracks Emma left behind—naturally talented through she was, this was only her second time healing significant injuries, and there were bound to be slight flaws in her work—but he could deal with that. Now that his limbs were not shaking so spastically and the pain was clearing out of his mind, there were a great many things Rumplestiltskin could do.

His power wanted a target: now he gave it one. Unleashing the raw strength of an original power, he let his magic attack the darkness Danns had forced inside him, let it destroy the invading tricks and traps, let it lash out as it wanted so badly to. He provided a little guidance, ensuring that the magic did not go after his family and that it only targeted the magic Danns had left behind. Other than that, Rumplestiltskin let his power boil through his mind and his body, overpowering most of the traps Danns had left in a way he was certain she thought he could not, appreciating the raw power for what it was. Subtlety had always been his preferred method of combat, but there was something to be said for the ability to simply crush things, to hear magic sing in his mind and know he was not helpless.

Very few seconds passed while his magic worked, and finally Rumplestiltskin was able to smile. "Thank you, Emma," he said in a voice that was far less strained and hoarse than his had been only minutes prior. "It seems we'll make a sorceress out of you yet."

She glared, but he could still see the smile lurking underneath the expression that tried a little too hard to be hostile. "Don't count on it."

"Of course not," he replied with a soft chuckle. That answer had been automatic, Rumplestiltskin knew. He and Emma would probably always strike sparks, and probably always even enjoy bringing out the worst in one another.

"Are you okay, now, Grandpa?" Henry asked quietly, brown eyes still worried. The lad probably had been able to feel the gathering power, and without any frame of reference to put it in, Henry was probably wondering what in the world had happened. Come to think of it, Bae was probably thinking along much the same lines.

"Yes." It took a bit more effort than Rumplestiltskin wanted it to, but he sat up without falling back down. "Yes, Henry, I am."

His grandson's brilliant smile could have put the sun to shame. "I'm glad."

"Me, too." He was still a little dizzy, but it was nothing insurmountable. Nothing a little sleep wouldn't fix. Rumplestiltskin took a deep breath and looked at his family—and yes, it was probably time to admit that Emma was starting to become a fixture there, whether he wanted her to or not. "Thank you. All of you. I feel…a lot better."

He hated needing help, wasn't used to depending upon others. Rumplestiltskin had spent three centuries alone, three centuries trusting no one but himself. Even once he'd fallen in love with Belle he hadn't truly trusted her, not in the beginning, but he'd come to do so, her and these others. Looking in their eyes, Rumplestiltskin realized that, despite his fears to the contrary, they didn't think less of him for having been kept prisoner and then needing help to deal with the aftermath of that. He only saw concern and compassion, and a surprising amount of acceptance. No, he wasn't used to needing help…but he didn't regret accepting it, either.

A/N: Next up – Chapter 46: "Allegiances", where Rumplestiltskin tries to propose, Blue pays Snow and David a visit, and Tink proves even sneakier than before.