Thought I'd get one more up before the holidays get into full swing. Lots of flashbacks in this one. Enjoy, and as always, feedback is much appreciated!
I do not own 'Once Upon a Time.'
Chapter 16
"I'm so glad you're staying." Gold said, as he held Belle close to him, the two of them lying in bed together.
"Me too." Belle replied.
"And I don't want you to worry about a thing. You are very safe here. If Gwen says that she has everything taken of care of you can be assured of that." Gold said.
"The two of you seem very close. How long have you known her?" Belle asked.
"I was partnered with her over twenty-eight years ago – though it – sometimes it feels like I've known her my whole life. Aside from Bae and – now you – she's the only person I ever felt really cared about me." Gold told her.
"So what happened after you hurt your leg?" Belle asked. "I mean, now that I'm here – we have time to get to know one another. We can tell each other more stories."
"It was – well, things didn't exactly work out as I had anticipated. In fact they got worse – much worse." Gold told her.
Twenty two years ago . . . . . . .
"Papa!" Bae cried out as Gold entered the house, with Mrs. Potts behind him carrying his bag. Gold was using crutches, his right leg heavily bandaged.
"Bae. Oh, I missed you so much." Gold said as the boy latched onto him and hugged him.
"Did you get the pictures I made you, papa?" Bae asked.
"Oh, I got every one of them, they were fantastic." Gold said. "Come on - let's go into the living room so I can sit down." Gold said, and Bae happily led him to the living room. Mrs. Potts set the bag down in the hallway and followed them. As soon as Gold sat down, Bae grabbed a piece of paper off of one of the end tables and then jumped onto the sofa with him.
"I made this for you today." Bae said, and he handed the paper to Gold. It was a drawing of the two of them together.
"My goodness, another masterpiece. I believe we have a future famous artist here, Gwen." Gold said, and he looked up at Mrs. Potts and smiled as Bae hugged him.
"When will your leg be better, papa?" Bae asked.
"Well – it'll be at least another month before all of the bandages come off. And then I'll have to do therapy." Gold said.
"What's that?" Bae asked.
"Exercises. To help my leg get strong again." Gold said. "But it's – it's not ever going to be all better. I won't be able to run with you anymore, Bae. I won't be able to play ball with you or ride bikes – I'm sorry."
"It's okay, papa. We can still play other games, right? Video games, and other stuff." Bae said.
"That's right – we can certainly do that." Gold said.
"And we can still go to Granny's for hamburgers." Bae said.
"Tell you what – how about I take the two of you out there today? Would you like that?" Mrs. Potts asked, chiming in.
"Bailey isn't going anywhere today. He has homework to finish and he's spent far too much time this afternoon wasting it away drawing his ridiculous pictures." Milah said as she entered the room. "I need to talk to your father, Bae. Go upstairs, do your homework." Mrs. Potts glared at Milah in anger.
"Come on love – I'll help you. Let's see if we can get done so that we can still go out for burgers tonight." Mrs. Potts said, and she led Bae out of the room, glaring at Milah the entire time.
"Lovely of you to visit me while I was in hospital Milah – oh that's right, you couldn't fit that into your busy schedule, could you." Gold asked as Milah sat down next to him.
"Well, I hope you're happy. You're going to be stuck now – just another computer hack holed up watching other people actually work." Milah said.
"The agency said I can teach. I should be done with therapy by the time the next group of trainees come into the program. I'll be in Virginia three days a week for three months so you'll still be rid of me half the time if that's what you're worried about." Gold said. "It would probably be more convenient if I relocated to the DC area but I know you're not interested in that."
"I have no interest in leaving Storybrooke." Milah said.
"Of course you don't, you're the queen here, why would you want to move somewhere else and be a mere peasant?" Gold asked. "I plan to take Bae with me the week he's on spring break."
"You're not taking my son out of state for an entire week." Milah said.
"He's my son too. And what will you do while I'm gone? You'll ship him up to his room for the day and leave him with a sitter while you go off to do god knows what – or who." Gold said. "I'll only be teaching four hours a day, I'll arrange for a sitter during that time. The rest of the time, I'm taking Bae to see the city – show him where I work, take him to the monuments, the White House – give him the grand tour, I think he's old enough to appreciate. You're welcome to come along, Milah but – well, we both know that you have no interest in spending time with me. It's five months away – I'm telling you now so that you'll be done stewing over it when the time comes." Milah just glared at him. "I won't be able to get upstairs for a while, so would you be kind enough to bring some of my things down here? I'll be sleeping in here for now. Not that you'll miss me in our bed or anything."
"Why don't you just leave me, Ian? I know you want to." Milah said.
"Because I'm not giving you the satisfaction, dearie. You're the one who wanted me to come to America, and I did. You're the one who pushed me to apply for citizenship so that I could transfer here officially from MI6 to CIA, so I did. You're the one who wanted me on active duty, because it was a lucrative career move, and I did it. And now you've decided you're bored with me, and I guarantee you the feeling is quite mutual. But under no circumstances will I leave my son. If you want to leave me – please do. I have provided for my child both financially and emotionally and Bae is old enough to testify to a family court judge as to who is the better parent. And thanks to all of your efforts to settle me here as an official Yank and government employee, I have enough connections to be heard in a court by a judge that is completely impartial and isn't in your back pocket or – various other places."
"I wonder what this impartial judge would think of your little 'accident' on the job that really wasn't an accident after all." Milah said, and she gave him a smug look. "You're not the only one who has connections, Ian. Don't forget that." Milah flitted out of the room as Gold watched her silently, a nervous look coming over his face.
"Ian – I really don't want to speak ill of the dead, but – your wife, she sounds horrid. What did you ever see in someone like that?" Belle asked.
"I was just a young lad, Belle. Barely nineteen. And as you pointed out before – a bit of a nerd. I was at university in London studying computer science. Not exactly a field that attracts the ladies. My mates and I – we made an interesting discovery though. There were lots of Yanks that came over from the states to study abroad. And um – well, for some reason, they seem to like the accent. We figured it was our best shot so – well, we were all quite into statistics and whatnot and after surveying the numbers on those studying abroad we found that there was this little art school in London that attracted quite a few girls from well-to-do families in the states. It wasn't very well-known and fairly untapped territory. So we found their hang-outs – pubs, cafes, that sort of thing. That's how I met Milah. She was a bit older than me, had just turned twenty – we went out several times. She was nice enough back then. Pleasant, even. We got on fine. Unfortunately – we weren't very careful and – well, she ended up pregnant. So I offered to marry her and – she said yes. Didn't expect her to, to be honest."
"We went back to the states for the wedding and – that's when I found out the truth about her family – the Story family." Gold said.
"Story? As in Storybrooke?" Belle asked.
"Oh, yes. Her great-great-great – oh, I don't know how many greats, I lost count, but anyway – her several times great grandfather established this town back in the days of the revolutionary war. It was a fishing port primarily, and the family came from English money. Shady lot, from what I've heard. Even rumors that several of them were traitors, and fought with the Brits in the revolution." Gold said. "Anyhow – her family owned this town. And they still did. Only ones left when I met Milah were her and her father. He passed away about a year after Bae was born. After we married, we went back to London so that I could finish school. When Bae was about two years old, I was approached by MI6. I don't even know how they got in contact with me, but – well, they're MI6, they can do things like that. I was always a top student and – they were in need of computer workers. Surveillance agents. Computers were becoming more and more mainline and they wanted some young minds who knew what they were doing, and apparently I qualified."
"Well, I really didn't think it was smart to turn down MI6, so – I went to work for them. It was supposed to be surveillance work, but – about a year into my employment they started talking about sending me out into the field. That's when they partnered me with Gwen. She worked for both MI6 and CIA – her mum was American, her dad was from England and she had dual citizenship, so she used that to her advantage. That's how the idea got planted in Milah's head – she had been itching to go back to the states, and figured if I got my citizenship, I could get transferred in with the CIA easily. She had the connections and – well, we were having some struggles by then and I just wanted to make her happy."
"Did you love her?" Belle asked.
"Thought I did." Gold replied. "In hindsight? Probably not. But she did give me Bae. I wouldn't have traded him for anything. I just wish – I just wish things had – ended differently than they did."
Twenty-two years ago, about three months after Gold's leg injury . . . .
Bae and Gold sat down together in the booth at Granny's. Gold set his cane down next to him inside the booth; he had been getting around quite well since he began therapy. "So – are we going to try anything new today, or will it be the usual?" Mrs. Lucas asked as she approached their table.
"Usual!" Bae shouted, practically bouncing in his seat.
"Two burgers, coming up. Ketchup and extra pickles." Mrs. Lucas said, and she walked away.
"How many more weeks till our trip, Papa?" Bae asked excitedly.
"Six and a half." Gold replied. "Getting excited, are you?"
"Will I really get to meet the President?" Bae asked.
"Well, we get to tour his house. If he's there – I'm sure you'll get to see him." Gold replied.
"We get to go to the airplane museum, right? You promised!" Bae said.
"That will be our first stop, I guarantee it." Gold said. "We'll have a very good time, Bae."
"Papa – is it wrong if I'm not sad that mama isn't coming with us?" Bae asked. "She's not fun like you."
"Well, your mum is – a very different person than I am. I did ask her to come, but – she thought it would be good for us to have a trip on our own." Gold said, hoping that his son wouldn't realize he had just told a lie. "Maybe we'll find something else for her to join us in. Something that all of us will enjoy." Mrs. Lucas brought them their food and they ate their dinner together and continued their conversation. After she took their plates, Mrs. Lucas approached their table.
"So – any dessert today? I've got fresh cherry cobbler." Mrs. Lucas said. Just as she said this, a group of men entered the restaurant. Among the men was a tall, dark-haired man that Bae immediately stared at.
"No thank you." Bae said, his entire demeanor changing.
"It's not like you to turn down cherry cobbler, Bailey. What's wrong?" Mrs. Lucas asked.
"Nothing. I'm just full." Bae said.
"Well, okay then. Maybe next time." Mrs. Lucas said, and she walked away. Gold couldn't help but notice Bae staring at the man who had just come in with his friends.
"Who is that, Bae?" Gold asked.
"That's Mr. Jones." Bae said. "He and mama are friends."
"Are they?" Gold asked.
"He comes over sometimes – when you're not home." Bae said, and he looked down sadly.
"Bae – what's wrong?" Gold asked.
"I saw him and mama kissing once. She doesn't know that I saw, I was supposed to be in my room." Bae said.
"I see." Gold said. "You stay right here, Bae. Be right back." Gold picked up his cane, stood up, and walked over to the man and his group of friends. "Excuse me." Gold said, interrupting their frivolity. He looked straight at the man that Bae had identified as Mr. Jones.
"What do you want?" Jones asked.
"Well, I thought I'd come over to introduce myself. Name is Gold. Ian Gold." Gold said. Jones looked him up and down.
"You're Ian Gold? You're a lot taller than I thought you'd be." Jones said, and the rest of the men started to laugh.
"Listen – I am fully aware of my wife's indiscretions. I have no problem turning a blind eye to them, but – not when they involve my son." Gold said. "If you and Milah want to carry on, you'll do it in a more discreet manner. Not at my house – and not when my boy is there. Are we clear on that?"
"Well perhaps if you gave your wife what she wanted she wouldn't have to be bringing other men to HER house. Not yours." Jones said. "And I'll see Milah whenever – and wherever I like." Jones said, getting in his face. Gold lifted up his cane and shoved it under the man's neck as Jones gasped for breath.
"And I said – not when my boy is there." Gold said angrily. He shoved Jones roughly back into his seat.
"You know – I usually don't fight invalids, but – I think I'll make an exception in your case." Jones said. He stood up, grabbed Gold by the collar and threw him against the wall. Gold fell to the floor, his cane falling on the ground.
"Papa!" Bae screamed, and he ran to Gold's side.
"I'm alright, Bae. It's fine." Gold said, sitting up.
"Alright, that's enough. Get out – all of you." Mrs. Lucas said to Jones and his group of friends. Jones sneered at Gold while Bae was helping him stand back up.
"We're not done." Jones said, and he and his entourage left in a huff.
"Is that the man your wife left you for?" Belle asked.
"Yeah. Killian Jones. He worked in the shipyards as a foreman. Total bastard. He was my first problem. My second problem came along once I started teaching at the CIA headquarters." Gold said.
Five months after Gold's injury, at CIA headquarters . . . . . .
Gold was in his third week of teaching the new group of trainees. He limped down the hallway and heard footsteps running behind him. "Mr. Gold!" a girl's voice cried out to him. Gold stopped and turned around.
"Yes?" Gold asked her.
"I don't think you were very fair to me in class today." the girl said. She had dark brown hair and a very serious look about her.
"I was perfectly fair. You had a task to perform and you failed. I don't see what the problem is." Gold said.
"You didn't give me another chance." the girl said.
"Do you think you'll get another chance out in the field? What fairy tale land are you living in?" Gold asked.
"Well – maybe you can teach me." the girl said. "This has been my dream my entire life."
"To work for the CIA? You need better dreams than that, dearie." Gold said. "How old are you?"
"Nineteen." the girl replied. "I know what you're thinking – I finished school early. I've never failed anything in my life. Not until your class."
"Oh, you're one of those." Gold said. "So was I – it takes more than being a prodigy to impress me, dearie." he said, and he turned to walk away.
"Please. I'll do anything." the girl said. Gold stopped and turned around.
"My son is coming to stay with me next week. I'll need a sitter while I'm teaching." Gold said.
"I could do that. I love kids." the girl said.
"He could probably sit in my office during your class but the other classes you would watch him." Gold said.
"How old is he?" the girl asked.
"Eight and a half." Gold replied. "He's a good boy, won't be any trouble. You do this favor for me – and I'll help you."
"Oh, thank you. I'll be your best student ever, I promise you won't regret it." the girl said.
"Well, that remains to be seen." Gold said. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm not the best with names, what was your first name again?"
"Regina. Regina Mills." she said, and she smiled at him with excitement.