Chapter 39
"Did you reach Josiah?" Gold is asking as from the entrance a shout of "Mom!" fills the jail. As Henry cyclones in and dashes to Cell B, Belle shakes her head. "I forgot: we took his cell phone and fishing gear and everything back to his house. Do you think he's okay?"
Gold's answering smile is confident. "I think he's more than okay—I think he's human now."
Belle hoots like a cowboy on Saturday night. "How soon can we finish up here and go look for him?"
"I'll stick around here in case they need some help with Regina." As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he remembers he has no magic to offer as a either a cure or a pacifier for Regina. Except for his knowledge of her, based on their long-standing acquaintance, he's pretty much useless, just a middle-aged runtling. Cold creeps up from his toes and settles in his belly, but he makes a show of bravery, for Belle's sake. "You go ahead and find him. Call me when you do."
Belle shakes her head and links her arm through his. "He'll come to us. My place is with you."
He kisses the top of her head and they turn their attention to Cell B, where Henry's pleading with his grandfather and his other mother to be permitted into the cell. David's refusal is unequivocal, but Emma, leaning on her broom, studies Regina, who's still pale and struggling to stand. The mayor-queen shoves Whale's supporting hand aside, smooths the wrinkles from her skirt and calls to her son, then, mustering dignity, raises her face to Emma. "Sheriff. . . .please. . . ."
Emma passes her broom to Leroy and unlocks the cell. Henry flies past her and into Regina's arms. David unfolds his arms and moves closer as Whale moves away. Regina assures Henry she feels much better and has missed him dreadfully, and the boy assures her he's okay too, even though he did fail this morning's geometry quiz.
Emma strolls over to Belle and Gold, speaking lowly. "You're sure, absolutely sure—"
"The magic is gone." Gold lifts his left hand and flicks his wrist; nothing happens. He notices that the skin on the back of his hand is baggy and wrinkled—an old man's. "Can't even conjure a rose for my lady any more."
"Guess we'll have to buy our flowers from my father from now on," Belle suggests, with a question under the tossaway remark. He catches her meaning and agrees, "Soon, Belle. As soon as things have quieted down." It's a conversation, one of many, that Gold dreads having, but it's necessary: Gold must mend fences with Moe French soon, because Belle will likely delay the wedding until her father agrees to walk her down the aisle.
"As soon as we get back from New York," Belle decides, and Gold kisses her again: she knows how anxious he is to make that trip.
Archie appears at Belle's side, so quiet that Gold isn't aware of him until he asks her, "How are you doing, Belle?"
"Just fine, Archie."
"Emma asked me to pick Henry up at school. Something happened as I was driving over." He raises an eyebrow at Gold. "Something magical?"
"From now on, Doctor, the only magic you'll see will be on Amateur Night at the high school," Gold says dryly.
"Magic has been eliminated from Storybrooke," Belle explains.
"Perhaps," Archie suggests to Gold, "we should talk about that one day soon."
Gold grunts. "Perhaps we should form a Magic Users Anonymous support group. I'm not the only one who'll be going through withdrawal."
"That may not be as outlandish as you think."
"We'll both come to talk to you," Belle says, "as soon as we get back from New York."
"Bindy!" A booming voice interrupts any reply Archie might give, and suddenly Belle is lifted from the floor, swung around, then set down again and a hearty kiss is planted on her mouth. "Jo!" she shouts, standing on tiptoe to throw her arms around her ex-husband's neck.
Dove looks wonderful. He looks human.
"Josiah!"
Heads turn, mouths fall open: no one has ever heard Gold shout before. The mouths stay open because Gold is doing something else no one has seen him do before: just as soon as Belle has released Dove, Gold has swept in with a hug of his own. One-armed, it is, because Gold still needs his cane, but it's every bit as unabashed as Belle's.
"Oh, Jo! It's so good to have you back!"
"Mr. G!" Dove could have picked Gold up just as easily as he had Belle, but he's still conscious of their employee-employer status, so he settles for thumping Gold's back.
"Welcome back, Mr. Dove. Welcome back."
"Are you okay?" Belle asks at the same time as Gold asks, "Are you all right?"
Dove nods, but rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, but I'm afraid the nuns aren't. I, uh, gave 'em a shock. You might need to have a word with 'em, Doc," he advises Archie.
"What happened?"
Dove chuckles and lowers his eyes to the floor. "Well, uh, I was in the laundry room, y'know, like usual, at Mr. G.'s and Bindy's house, perched on the dryer. Suddenly I felt this tingling all over, and dizziness, and my body felt hot and swollen, and then everything seemed to have shrunk. Well, I looked down at my talons, but they were gone: I was hanging on to the dryer with my toes. It took me a minute to figure things out. When I realized I was a man again, I slid off the dryer and I came to look for you guys—except, I stubbed my toe on the laundry basket, and that made me realize I didn't have any shoes on, and when I looked down I didn't have any clothes either. I always keep a change of clothes in the back of the pawnshop, so I dug through the laundry basket for something I could put on so I didn't have to walk through the streets in my birthday suit, but all I could find that would fit was a barbeque apron. I would've called and asked you to bring me some clothes, but I didn't have a phone. The shop's only six blocks, anyway, so I put on that apron and ran down the alleyway, and when I got to the shop—"
Gold slaps his forehead. "I gave Blue the keys to the shop!"
"Yeah. The back door was open. I figured you were there, Mr. G., so I just went in and got my clothes out of the cupboard and took off that apron to put my pants on—"
"And Blue walked in on you," Belle guesses.
Dove reddens. "It wasn't just Blue. Sister Cecilia and Sister Bernie were there too. Let's just say they saw a side of me not many in Storybrooke have seen, and I guess it wasn't pretty, 'cause Blue dropped the box she was carrying and Cecelia screamed and ran off." Dove squeezes his eyes shut. "And Bernie, she started laughing like it was Comedy Night at the high school."
Belle covers her mouth and Gold bites his lip to keep from laughing, but when Dove busts out in a guffaw, they let themselves go. Gold's sides ache: he realizes it's been a long time since he's allowed himself an unfettered laugh. For a few minutes, he completely forgets he's powerless.
He's happy, of course. He made the right decision for once. The hug from Henry and the hand-crushing handshake from Josiah tell him so. Leroy's offer to drive him and Belle home tells him so. The steak that Regina wolfs down tells him so.
The light in Belle's eyes tells him so. The special supper she cooks for him tells him so. The way she curls into him as they watch a little television before going to bed tells him so.
But his body feels heavy and looks saggy, and the only weapons he has now to protect his family are his cane and his money.
And he has no way to fix the wrongs he did to Bae, three hundred years ago. Nothing to offer in exchange for forgiveness. From their bedroom window he looks out on the moonlit lawn, so well manicured, now that Henry's taken over the mowing. If he were the kind to make wishes, he'd wish for an afternoon, sitting out there on that lawn, burgers on the grill, and to his right, Bae stretched out lazily in a matching lounge chair. Maybe they'd be solving the problems of the world, or maybe they'd just be listening to a ballgame. Yeah. That would be a perfect afternoon.
Then he snorts: when did the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms become so prosaic?
"Rumple? Are you coming to bed?"
Yeah. He made the right decision. He's done what must be done, so how come his heart isn't docile?
"I raised him for eleven years. I was his one and only parent from the time he was three weeks old until just a couple of months ago. I have a right to say goodbye to him when you banish me." Regina's regained her physical strength and with it, the strength of her ego. Though she is well aware the magic is gone—she's tested it several times, not accepting the word of the other former magic practitioners—she was born regal and will not allow a few iron bars to prevent her from exercising her leadership.
Sitting on the naugahyde couch and some straight chairs are the rest of Henry's family: Snow, Emma and David. Gold has been included, but not because he's considered family; once again, he's been asked in as a magic consultant, along with Blue. The two of them have just finished reporting that a run of tests at twenty locations along the Storybrooke border have proven that the curse is broken.
Gold, seated at the deputy's desk, is drumming his fingers. In the trunk of his Caddy are four bags packed with clothes for every occasion, from jeans and t-shirts (in case Bae invites his father and stepmother-to-be to a baseball game) to formal wear (in case Bae permits his father to treat him to a celebratory dinner at Le Bernardin). In the glove compartment are maps and guidebooks. In Gold's wallet is a pile of cash and an American Express Centurion card.
Belle's at home, paying ahead on the household bills, cleaning out the fridge, testing the smoke alarms and the security alarm, setting the timer on the irrigation system, updating the Ipod with road songs—getting the house ready for a long-term closure. The day after tomorrow, they'll drive to New York.
Tomorrow at 6 am, Regina will be exiled. She'll be escorted by Snow, David, Emma and Snow's royal guard to an undisclosed location, where a car will be waiting, with a full tank of gas. The guard will accompany her to the county border.
Although it's known where Regina parked her Mercedes, no one is willing to walk across the border to pick it up for her. Regina will be the first person to cross the border. To her face, Leroy's been calling her The Guinea Pig.
So to provide Regina a car with which to leave Maine, Marine's Auto has donated a '91 Yugo with a dented fender.
Tonight, it's an intimate meeting as the family decides whether to grant Henry's request to be present at the expulsion. Archie's been consulted and advises Henry be permitted to attend, as long as he's brought in later that day for a psychiatric appointment. Snow thinks Henry's too young to witness his mother's exile; she fears he will be scarred for life. Emma, having learned a lesson, she says, about withholding information from Henry, wants to grant Henry's request. David is on the fence.
Gold doesn't have a vote. "Under the circumstances," Snow says, "we don't feel it's appropriate." She doesn't explain why.
After they've argued for two hours, with Gold, his teeth gritted, confirming that there would be no health effects to anyone standing near the boundary and that no traces of magic remained anywhere in town for Regina or anyone else to tap into, Snow defers to her daughter's judgment.
Emma walks her parents out to their car. Gold sets out for home on foot: he's been walking a few miles every day in preparation for his trip, for he's read that New Yorkers do a lot of walking and he wants to keep up with Bae. Three blocks into his journey, he hears boot heels running towards him and his name is called: Gold, not Rumplestiltskin. So it's Emma, then. He waits for her to catch up.
"Gold." In the streetlight she shoves her hands into her jeans pockets. "Look, ah, I'm sorry about that 'under the circumstances' business. She didn't mean it the way it sounded."
He reminds himself he has a choice: he can take offense or he can brush it away. The advice of Kung Fu's Master Khan pops into his head: Ignore the insulting tongue. Besides, he's known Snow White a long time: she's not mean-spirited. "She was speaking as a queen, which is what the town needs her to be right now."
"Well, yeah, about that. The circumstances she was thinking of—there's talk about putting you on trial."
His lips curl in a half-snarl, half-smile. "That seems like a logical next step. Your parents and Mr. Spencer will have to act fast, however. Belle and I will be leaving on Friday."
"Not permanently, though."
"We'll play it by ear." He touches her shoulder. "Emma, we're going to New York. There's room in the car for one more—or two." She doesn't immediately refuse, so he continues, "You could make it a weekend getaway. On Sunday I'll drive you back here."
Emma rocks on her heels, thinking.
"Belle and I have a suite at the Mark."
Emma whistles in appreciation.
"I can call tonight and upgrade to a two-bedroom."
"You'd do that for me?"
"It's little enough after what you did for me."
"Let me think about it."
"We leave at 7 am."
Emma starts to walk away, then pauses. "Gold? Your driver's license didn't come from the curse, did it?"
He snickers. "Good night, Emma."
It's an historic day: Evil will be publicly vanquished this morning, driven out by the conquering heroes. Storybrooke will be made safe for the common man. The way Snow and Charming size him up when he and Belle arrive, Gold surmises that they've made up their minds there will be another Evil Vanquished day soon. Apparently, Emma hasn't told them yet Evil's already packed and ready to drive off to New York, where it will hardly be noticed, where Evil will be just another middle-aged runtling with a cane and an AmEx.
Snow offers a tight-lipped hello to Belle, then another to Gold as if she had to deliberate on whether he should be spoken to. But she's the town leader and to maintain public confidence, she can't appear to be intimidated by anyone.
He wonders if, too, she'll miss him when he's gone. He will miss her. Can't say the same for her husband, though.
They've got more important and immediate matters to deal with this morning, so the Charmings quickly expel him from their thoughts. He fades into the back of the crowd, apart from all but Belle.
There wasn't supposed to be a crowd. This was supposed to be a solemn event involving only the town leadership, but the town's too small for secrets to be kept, much too small for the public to find an expulsion uninteresting, so, except for the school and the hospital, most routine activity has been suspended and the adults have turned out to watch justice being enacted. They've sensitivity enough not to make a circus of it, but flyers posted around town advertise a post-expulsion party at Granny's, free drinks with every purchase over ten dollars.
He recognizes the faces around him, of course; for nearly thirty years, from the window of his shop, he's watched them pass by. Hardly ever did any of them stop in, so while he knows their names, knows their addresses because he rents to them, he doesn't know them, and certainly, they don't know him. They never wanted to, and that's how he's wanted it, always, the entire three hundred years he's been alive. As a bullied child and a bullied adult, as a bullying immortal, he's minimized his contact with other people. The less frequent the contact, the less trouble they can cause him.
No, it's more than that. The less contact, the less hurt they can do to him. The less hurt he can do to them.
Too late, though, for some of them; they're already tangled up with him.
Snow starts an impromptu speech. Gold's too far back in the crowd to hear her, but he can easily predict what she's saying: promises of public safety, assurances of swift justice. Being Snow, there will be words too of forgiveness and reconciliation. A new life for Regina.
Some of the townsfolk are recording the proceedings on their smartphones. He will need to remember to strengthen the communications dome before he leaves, so the outside world won't access Storybrookers' Facebook pages.
To Snow's left stand Emma and Regina, the latter in handcuffs and Chanel. To Snow's right stands Charming, and behind them, the dwarfs. Behind the lot, parked on the street, Regina's Yugo waits. On the front line, Henry, the only child present, is in Ruby's custody. Gold doesn't worry about him; he's got a strong safety net beneath him and soon enough, he'll have his father in his life. Emma will unite father and son, though she'll drag her feet and grumble; she'll do what must be done, docile heart or not. And as for Bae, he'll become a permanent fixture in Henry's life, once becomes aware he has a son—Emma hasn't said so, but Gold knows for a certainty that Bae can't be aware of Henry's existence; otherwise, it would have been Bae, not Regina, raising the baby.
Had that happened, Regina's curse never would have been broken. Gold would still be a cranky old businessman pining after his housekeeper with shouts of "Papa! You coward!" permeating his dreams. As Snow reads out Regina's sentence, Gold ponders how different everyone's lives would be now, if Regina hadn't adopted Henry. As Snow concludes her speech, he concludes that the curse would have been broken anyway, by Regina herself: she'd gotten bored of her Storybrooke early on and would have done something to screw up her own plan. Regina needs conflict to stir her blood even more than she needs magic.
Rumor has it, before she broke back into Storybrooke, she was earning her living as a roller derby queen in Bangor. It's a fine story so Gold hasn't corrected it with the less imaginative truth, but Emma's divulged that Regina was in fact selling used cars in Teaneck.
Emma crosses over the town line with Regina, opens the driver's side door of the Yugo, unlocks Regina's cuffs and stands back as Regina climbs in the vehicle. Gold can't see either woman's face as Regina starts the engine. In a moment, the Yugo, followed by a van full of gun-toting dwarfs, has rumbled off into the horizon.
Like that, it's over. No final words, no last glance has been exchanged between the two people who used to be the most powerful mages in the world, who used to know each other so well. If Cora had been a little less prideful and a little more tender, Regina might have been Rumplestiltskin's daughter.
Oh gods. He might have spent eternity bound to Cora. Chilled, Gold reaches for Belle's hand. "Come on, sweetheart, I need a cappuccino."
A/N. As I've been writing this, I've found myself wondering how different Rumple's life might have been if there had been a higher power he could've turned to for protection and redress of injustice. All of his life, he's had to make decisions alone, take actions alone, no law or community or friends to help him. What if, for instance, he could have gotten leave from his sergeant when the Seer told him about Milah's pregnancy? Or what if Blue had offered to help him reunite with Bae? What if he had been able to go to Emma with the full story of what he believed Moe had done to Belle? Or what if he'd just felt there was a god who cared about him? Even in Storybrooke, there doesn't seem to be a legal system with any teeth to it, or a church that cares about people's needs, or a sense of community, and until he feels he's no longer living in a dog-eat-dog world, he's going to continue to make up his own code of justice–and there will be no hope for his redemption. So I keep writing stories that give him a safety net, because my fondest hope for him is that he finds the security that comes from faith in something bigger and better than himself. Off my soap box now.
Coming up: roses, rings and reunions.