Chapter 48
Caine: "What is my duty to the law?"
Khan: "You must assist the law. To serve justice."
Everything they've done this past week, from digging up worms and cleaning fish to washing dishes, they've done together. Belle says she likes this trip even better than the one to New York; she prefers flannel shirts over cocktail dresses, trout she caught herself over $135-an-ounce caviar, and tea being poured by her husband rather than wine poured by a sommelier. If they–she makes certain to use the plural pronoun–are exiled, she suggests they take the cabin with them. Gold promises her one just like it, since this one now belongs to Henry.
They briefly consider starting their family before the world cruise. Belle's practical side wins a delay, however, when she imagines leaning over the railing of a ship, plagued by morning sickness and seasickness together, and tramping the Inca Trail with swollen ankles. A year is not too long to wait and to prepare.
When they drive into the garage of their pink house, Emma, grim-faced, is waiting on the porch. She can't look them in the eye as she meets them at the garage door. "Sorry, folks. I got to take you in, Gold."
"Take him in?" Belle glances from one to the other. "For what?"
Belle's expression darkens but Gold just nods. "Thank you for giving us the week, Em. I hope you didn't get into too much trouble."
She swallows hard. "No worries. Please. . . " She gestures to her Bug.
As he opens the driver's side door for her, Gold remarks, "Thanks for not bringing the squad car." Once Emma is seated, he crosses to the passenger side and starts to get into the back, but she stops him. "Sit in the front seat. You're not a criminal, damn it."
"I'm coming too." Belle squeezes into the back seat of the Bug. She's crying. "Snow's decided, hasn't she? Not exile: jail."
"Temporarily," Emma assures her. "I'm not supposed to say anything, but I can't bear to see you cry, Belle. Jail is just for a few days. That's all I can say. And you can bring him a change of clothes, a meal, pillows, books, whatever. And visiting hours–they don't apply to newlyweds, okay? You can hang around all–" Emma sniffs.
"We're going to be okay, sweetheart." Gold reaches backward to take Belle's hand. "Don't worry. You either, Emma."
But Belle keeps crying all the way to the sheriff's station, rubbing her running nose on her flannel shirttail. On the lawn are countless numbers of CUSSers. Gold recognizes them all; none of these faces are friendly. Gold waits in the car until Emma comes around to take him out; he's aware there could be trouble enough because she didn't bring him in in the squad car. He stands close to Emma, lending the illusion that he's handcuffed. Emma leads him by the arm as Belle follows, choking back her tears–these people will not catch a Gold crying. "Get the hell out of the way!" Emma bellows, and the CUSSers make an opening for her.
She lets go of Gold long enough to open the door, and that's when someone notices, "Hey! He's not cuffed!"
A murmur rolls through the crowd, building into a unified protest, but it's squashed when a familiar voice rises above the rest: "Aw, shut the f- up!"
Belle finds the voice in the crowd and acknowledges it before following Emma and Gold into the sheriff's office. "Thank you, Granny."
The scene inside is much more sedate, more businesslike: Snow, pale in a black skirt and blazer. Spencer and Glass in suits (off-the-rack, Gold notices: Men's Wearhouse for Spencer, J. C. Penney's for Glass. Okay, so Gold's character improvements have yet to democratize his taste). David, in dark slacks and a button-down, no tie or jacket–but a rifle lying loosely across his arm. Leroy, in coveralls, and the rest of the royal guard, also armed. The queen's secretary taking notes. A two-person camera crew from SBTV, plus a half-dozen reporters competing for the juicy quote, the startling photo. The lot of them fix their gazes on Gold as Emma leads him in; David raises the rifle just an inch so Gold notices it. "That's hardly necessary," Gold snorts. "You think I'm going to try to outrun you?"
"I'm going to protect my wife," David retorts.
Emma swings the door to Cell B open and Belle bursts into fresh tears. Under her breath Emma mutters, "Crap" and motions Gold inside. He enters slowly, sits down on the cot and waits, his cane between his knees. Emma closes the door and locks it, then tosses the key onto the deputy's desk. Her boot heels thumping against the linoleum, she goes into her office and slams the door.
Belle drags a chair from the deputy's desk to the cell, as close as she can get to the cot, but it's not close enough to touch her husband.
"Rumplestiltskin," Snow begins, formally.
Gold grips his cane. Words fly into his mouth, seeking release: hateful words, words that if he still had magic, would steal from Snow: steal her health, her position, her beloved, her life. But he doesn't have magic any more, and he chokes on those words, because he doesn't want to have hate any more either. He reminds himself, so many voices have been shrieking in the queen's ears, unrelenting, uncompromising, unforgiving; he feels sorry for her; she's so young to bear this burden. But more, he feels sorry for himself, because he can see what's coming and he really doesn't deserve it, not any more.
Po: "Vengeance is a water vessel with a hole. It carries nothing but the promise of emptiness."
Caine: "Shall I then repay injury always with kindness?"
Po: "Repay injury with justice and forgiveness, but kindness always with kindness."
Speaking gently, the queen explains why it's taken so long to reach a decision: she's been observing him this past year, and these past months of waiting for her decision have been a test to see if he would revert to his evil ways. "I've been impressed, Rumplestiltskin, and grateful. You've given freely of your time, your money and your expertise; your acts of charity through the legal aid you've provided free of charge, and through the nonprofit you established, and the training you gave our doctors in the use of plants–you've done much good in this town. I thank you, not only as the queen but as a grandmother. You've been a positive example for Henry. I've seen nothing over the past year to indicate that the change in you is less than permanent, and I'm glad you've been part of my family as well as the community."
Belle and Gold exchange a frown: they've noticed Snow's use of the past tense.
And here it comes. Snow quietly draws in a deep breath. "Since the beginning of government, leaders have debated the purpose of punishment. Is it to reform the convicted? Surely that's why we punish children, to teach them there are consequences to their actions and to correct misconduct. Prison systems have offered all sorts of training programs and counseling to try to teach convicts; sometimes it works, but most often, it fails. Still, it's apparent that if it's reform we're after in the Storybrooke legal system, you've already achieved that and there would be nothing more to gain with further punishment."
From the corner of his eye, Gold catches David raising the rifle another inch. That means the bad news is about to be given. It also means they don't fully trust Gold–though what they imagine he can do behind bars, without magic, eludes him. At worst, he could pound the mattress with his cane. He sighs and Belle, correctly interpreting the cue, buries her face in her hands.
"But punishment serves other purposes equally important to society: it sends a message to those who are contemplating wrongdoing that such acts won't be tolerated, it brings a sense of closure to the victims of crime, and it assures citizens that their lives, their families' lives, their property and their rights are precious and will be protected. Citizens of Storybrooke must see that the law will protect and serve them, because if they don't see that, they'll take action themselves–as you yourself did many times, Rumplestiltskin. Yes, your rights were violated, your property stolen, but instead of trusting the law to bring you justice, you acted like some wild west vigilante and you only made things worse. If we allowed people to take the law into their own hands, we'd have no society.
"But, as I said, I think you're past that. I think you've become a responsible and generous member of our society. Yet, for us as a community to put your past behind us and move on, justice must be served, and for two thousand of our citizens, it hasn't. They've implored me to balance the scales, and these past few months, as they've witnessed your reformation, they've continued to tell me that justice has not been satisfied. The number and severity of the evil acts you committed upon this town are just too imposing to be forgiven. You yourself have said over and over, 'All magic comes with a price.' You haven't paid the price you owe this town."
"Regardless of how I feel about you personally, as the leader of this community, I must listen to the people, I must act to achieve justice, I must ensure our laws are obeyed and our peace of mind protected. Therefore, Rumplestiltskin, as I did Regina, whose crimes were fewer than yours, I sentence you to permanent and complete banishment from Storybrooke. For the remainder of your life, you will not pass within the city boundaries for any reason: not to conduct business, not to visit anyone, not to meet with clients, not even to seek help from the hospital."
Snow pauses to allow the information to sink in. David scans the room, looking for signs of trouble; Glass and Spencer smirk for the live broadcast. Belle reaches her hand through the bars as far as she can, but it's not enough; Gold leaves the cot to lower himself clumsily to the floor beside her and take her hand. David looks doubtful about that, but takes no action; after a moment he relaxes, perhaps realizing how long it will take the lame man to get back onto his feet. In her office, Emma stands with her back turned to the proclamation proceedings. Her phone is pressed against her ear.
"Your property and your financial holdings will not be taken from you, but you will have to manage them remotely, as Regina does. You already have employees that have been taking care of your shop and your investments, so that won't cause your family undue hardship or loss of income. You may take with you anything you own that can be moved without causing disruption or damage to property that doesn't belong to you. That includes your house.
"Your banishment is effective immediately. You will remain in jail for three days, granting you time to get your affairs in order and to say goodbye to your acquaintances here: they will be allowed to visit at any time, beginning tonight. We're keeping you behind bars because of your history of violent reactions. You've proven in the past that your hands and your cane are weapon enough to do a great deal of harm and for that reason, no one except Belle and Baelfire will be allowed to enter the cell.
"You will be given a copy of this sentence and a chance to ask questions about it. Any infractions, even apparent accidental ones, will result in your immediate and permanent imprisonment. None of this sentence applies to any of your family; they were not accessories to your crimes, and no aspersions will be cast against them. Any public attacks against their names will be considered slander and will not be tolerated by my office. Let me make myself absolutely clear on this point: there will be no actions taken, no attacks, written or spoken, by any member of this community against any blood relation, business associate or Friends of Rumplestiltskin supporter without a swift response from my office. That goes for anything from graffiti and bar-room taunts to physical assaults."
Snow closes her eyes a moment, as though exhausted. "Rumplestiltskin, you and I have had a long and complicated history. I. . . " she shakes her head in confusion. "I have never been able to figure you out, even when the curse broke and I learned that your endgame all along was to recover your son. It seems to me, none of this was necessary. At any bend in the road, you could have asked for help, but instead you always acted alone, and those who could have helped you, you made enemies. You violated the laws and ethics of every community you lived in, yet you were faithful to the laws of magic and lived a sort of code of honor that the chivalrous would recognize as their own. You were never less than respectful and gentlemanly, sometimes even kind, to me, and if not for you, David and I probably wouldn't be together. I owe you a lot, and believe me, I'm grateful, but-you've killed people, you've beaten people to a bloody pulp, you've changed them into animals, for the slightest insult. I tried to explain your behavior as due to the Dark curse, because I want to be on your side, but the plain truth is, your side is evil. Or, rather, was evil. To protect this community, I can't blind myself to the awful things you've done, even if I know your cruelty to be a thing of the past, even if I understand the reasons for some of your actions. I wish it could be otherwise."
Caine: "If a man hurts me, and I punish him, perhaps he will not hurt another."
Master Po: "And if you do nothing?"
Caine: "He will believe he may do as he wishes."
Po: "Perhaps. Or perhaps he will learn that some men receive injury, but return kindness."
She folds her arms around her waist and shivers. She's trying to balance justice and kindness, Gold thinks. It's more than Rumplestiltskin would have done, if their situations were reversed. Is it more, though, than Gold would have done?
"We'll talk again, in private, before the sentence is enacted. If you have any questions, any special needs, you can pass them along through Emma and I'll do what I can, within the law and within reason. You may not believe this-or maybe you will; you seem to have chosen to live a paradox-but I will miss you." David and Leroy flanking her, Snow walks out a side door to avoid the crowds. A whisper is passed around the office and eventually reaches Gold; he believes it: the queen started crying in the parking lot.
Spencer and Glass go out to address the crowd. There are no handshakes or backslaps between them: Spencer would turn on a Glass in a New York minute if he saw any profit in it. But to two-thirds of the town, they're heroes, for the moment, and they're going to soak that for all it's worth. Snow's secretary wanders off to type up his notes. The press tries to get close to the cell, but the royal guard shoves them back, so they pester Belle instead, pleading for a statement or at least a show of tears ("How does it feel?" "What will you do now?"). It's Belle, not Gold, who growls at them, "Shut the hell up, you friggin' vultures!" And that becomes the caption of the day in tomorrow's news.
Doc Miner shouts above the press' clamoring-no one has ever heard Doc shout before; it startles even his brothers. "Get out, the bunch of you, out!" He pokes at a photog with his rifle, and his loyal brothers follow suit, chasing everyone except Belle out: soon the room is almost cleared, for a moment. The dwarfs sigh in relief as they filter back inside and begin to divide up the night's guard duty into shifts. Doc brings Belle and Gold cups of cool water. "Sons of dogs," he sneers in the direction of the crowd outside. "How's your ankle holding up, Mr. Gold?"
"Now that you mention it, sore."
"I'll bring you some valerian tea later on. Thanks for teaching me about that, by the way."
"Thanks for getting rid of the reporters." Belle sips the water slowly.
"After a shock like that, gossip mongers are the last thing you need." Doc casts a quick glance at his brothers, who are hunched over a legal pad on the deputy's desk. "Listen, I love my brothers and I'll always stand beside them, but I wanted you to know, we had some loud arguments over those damn petitions. I think what Regina did to you, with the false marriage and the false pregnancy, that should've been punishment enough."
He starts to say more when Baelfire rushes in, then Josiah and Fran, then Jefferson, then Henry, who admits he ran away from Ruby, who's supposed to be keeping him away from this mess-and then Ruby, who admits she allowed Henry to run away so she could come too. Emma comes out of her office to unlock the cell and allow Bae and Belle to go in; she pretends not to notice when the rest squeeze in too. She swipes chairs from the deputy's desk and her office to allow some of this crowd to sit, and she herself leans against the open door.
Chaos reigns as everyone seems to have a suggestion for what should be done next, ranging from Jefferson's insistence that the governor be called and this whole Storybooke-gate be exposed, to Henry's plan for a jailbreak. Emma gives her son a playful shove at that suggestion.
Gold retreats to his cot, with Belle and Henry seated on the little bed beside him. He feels a bit lost in the crowd, all the more so when the nuns arrive, bearing thermoses of cocoa and plates of cookies. He lets everyone else talk it all out; for him, there's nothing to be challenged. He holds Belle close to his shoulder and whispers, "Are you okay?" She nods. "Still mad, but I'm getting better. Are you?" He nods. "Getting better."
"So we stick to the plan?" Belle wonders. "Set our house at the border's edge?"
"No."
Belle jerks back. "What?"
He's surprised himself with his answer, but it's the right one. "No. I see now that would be an insult to Snow. When I came up with that notion, it was the asshole in me talking. Living just across the border would be like thumbing our noses at her, and there are too many people in this town who would make her life miserable if it doesn't appear to them that justice has been served."
"What about our family, our friends?" Belle's eyes well up.
"They can come to see us. We'll move far enough to show respect for Snow's law, but not so far our loved ones can't reach us."
"But Henry-" Belle bites her lip to keep it from quivering. "It'll be years before he's old enough to drive. He'll have forgotten us by then."
Gold tries to lighten his voice for her sake. "Don't forget, Belle, I'm stinkin' rich, and Henry knows how to take an intercity bus. I'll just start a bus line."
Then he looks out at all these people crammed into his cell, into his life. "We're going to need a big bus." Ceecee offers him a snickerdoodle and he stares at it, bewildered."This is nothing like the last time Charming jailed me."