Chapter Two

"You've been a lot of help," Belle teased as she moved to wrap her arms around his neck from behind, chin resting against his shoulder.

Rumplestiltskin has been studying his grandson's notes on the boy's dream since he'd left it with him and had barely moved. He hadn't even budged when his wife had gone to pick up breakfast and bring it back to continue on their search. When Belle had spoken he'd answered, though he'd hardly listened to what she said or the words that came fluttering up in response. He was engrossed in the scribblings of a hurried hand desperate to mark down what his mind's eye had seen before he lost it forever.

The touch was what startled him and he froze, flashes of moments far from this one racing through his mind and every muscle tensed for a pain that would not come. Belle released him immediately. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," Rumplestiltskin answered quickly, closing the notebook and leaning back as he brought himself instantly under control again. He supposed he should be grateful that there weren't moments like this that ruined his time with the woman he loved.

Belle's hands moved back to his shoulders carefully, her touch soothing now that he knew it was hers and he looked up, finding blue eyes staring down at him curiously. "What are you reading so hard on?"

"Just the bit Henry left."

"Is something wrong?"

He paused, weighing options. He trusted Belle, he really did, but there was no reason to worry her if there was nothing wrong. The dream seemed to match his own from that morning, though from Henry's eyes instead of his own. The boy hadn't witnessed his grandfather's death, but instead had been held back as the mob set out on him. Belle had been there as well and hey seemed the only two in Storybrooke convinced if Rumplestiltskin's innocence. He didn't believe in coincidences, and certainly not in dreams shared without meaning, but there was no reason to worry her until he knew it was something vicious.

"Henry has supposedly been having some dreams he was curious about," he said carefully, hedging around the details.

Her expression softened and she leaned down to kiss his cheek. "You both have," she murmured. "Maybe this is your chance to get closer to Henry. I know you've wanted to."

Dark eyes blinked at her as Rumplestiltskin turned in his seat to better face her. He hadn't said anything, even if he knew she was right. Baelfire was gone and there was no way to being back the dead - unless the dead was the Dark One, he thought bitterly - but his grandson remained. He owed it to Bae to allow Henry into his life. He owed it to his son to protect his when he could not.

Belle smiled. "Don't deny it," she said sweetly. "I know you, Rumplestiltskin, and nothing is more important to you than family. Henry is family."

"You're right. Of course you're right," he answered and her smile only grew.

"Take your time and get to know him. There are certainly much worse ways to spend your days and-" she paused for just a moment, looking as if she were weighing her next words- "and you can't stay cooped up forever."

"I haven't been cooped up," he argued, but the look she gave him told him she wasn't buying it.

"Yes you have."

A smirk played at his lips as he took her hand, kissing it. "Growing tired of me already, Mrs Gold?"

"I could never grow tired of you," she answered the tease and bent, lips pressing against his. "But I'm not the only family you have left."

"I know."

"It'll be good for you. And for him. For both of you."

"You are a wonder," Rumplestiltskin said as he stood.

"And I always know more than you think I do," she said in a teasing voice. "Now, while you're at lunch with Henry, I'm going to go let Emma know that everything seems to be here. Should I mention what you found in your spell?"

He frowned, watching her surprisingly well masked expression. His Belle had always been clever and a quick learner, but when she had agreed to marry him she had acknowledged that there were things he would always play close and she promised to do her best not to fault him for it. She was giving him the space to trust or not trust here and withholding judgement on it.

"Not just yet," he answered slowly, the images that the spell had caught flickering through his mind. The intruder had looked like a man, cloaked well enough that even magic had not uncovered his identity, and he'd most certainly been on the search. For now, all they could really do was wait. He'd left nothing but more questions in his wake, but in Rumplestiltskin's experience, questions had a way of coming back around again if one were patient enough to let them. "Nothing was stolen, so please remind the sheriff she really has no further business in it."

"Rumple."

"What?"

"Don't be rude," she reminded him gently and kissed him again before her footsteps sounded on the wood floor on her way out.

Since he'd learned to navigate the Netherworld, Henry had a pretty good idea when he was dreaming and when he wasn't. There was a point that he could find in his mind where things shifted. He had been out at the apartments that overlooked the ocean with Emma when she'd gotten a call from Belle to go over the break in. That had been real. The world had been solid under his feet and there was an arrival and a departure point. He had gone back to the loft and sat down from there, he was sure, and then found himself standing on Main Street with Belle arguing with David. It was as if it were picking up where his earlier dream left off, the same accusations flying around and hostility so heavy in the air that Henry thought it might be tangible.

"Rumple had nothing to do with her death," Belle argued and David whirled on her with an uncharacteristically shortness in his tone.

"I know you love him, Belle, but you can't save him from this. He killed Emma. No one can save him from what happens now."

"No, he didn't kill her!" Henry yelled, the knowledge filling him full until the words burst out. He knew his Grandpa Gold wasn't like Gramps. He wasn't a hero, per se, but he wasn't a villain either. He knew he hadn't killed his mom. He just knew it.

Gramps turned, blue eyes focused on him but something felt so very wrong in that moment. "I'm sorry, kid. There's no other way."

Everything shifted again and Henry was struggling, strong hands holding him back and he heard Belle screaming for Rumplestiltskin. Gramps was standing out in the middle of the street, sword drawn and breathing hard as if he'd chased someone down. Henry wrenched free, the hands finally releasing him and he darted forward.

Knowing it was a dream and accepting it all the way through were always two different things. Rumplestiltskin had once told him that if he controlled the dream that there was no reason to fear it, but it had spiralled out of control and he could feel the fear rising up and through him, spreading even to the tips of his fingers and toes as he moved closer. The sword was covered in blood and David looked to him, a sort of emptiness in his blue eyes that didn't fit him at all. On the ground, crumpled to the pavement of the street, lay Grandpa Gold.

The cry filled the living room of the loft as he bolted upright on the couch, nearly tumbling off of it as he came out of the nightmare. Henry sat there for a moment, trying to find a way to still the trembling and settle out his breathing.

"Everything okay, Henry?"

He looked up to see David looking worriedly over at him and he tried to push the images from his mind. It wasn't a vision. He didn't have visions. Only Grandpa Gold did and there was no way to pass those along, right? "Yeah," he managed after a moment and fished his cell phone out of his pocket, seeing a missed call there. The buzzing must have brought him out of the dream as much as the terrifying scene did. Gramps was still lingering there even as he hit redial and Henry tried to offer a reassuring smile, though he wasn't sure how real it looked until his paternal grandfather's voice answered on the other end. "Sorry I missed your call."

"No problem," Rumplestiltskin answered from the other end and Henry heard the sound of the bell in the shop. "I'm leaving for Granny's now. I'll have your notebook with me."

"Be there in just a minute then," Henry answered and received only a brief goodbye before the line clicked off.

"Going somewhere?" David asked as Henry urged his shoes on his feet.

"I'm having lunch with Grandpa Gold." He didn't give his other grandfather time to respond as he raced to the door and grabbed his jacket. "See ya," he yelled behind him as he darted out, still trying to free himself from the lingering hold of the nightmare.

Belle had never spent a great deal of time with Emma. They'd worked together a bit when they were trying to find a way to defeat Zelena, but other than that the two women rarely crossed paths. Part of that was the fact that it had been so quiet since the Wicked Witch had died and her portal had been snapped closed before it could pull anything or anyone through it into the past. When it was quiet and disasters weren't knocking at everyone's doors the town, in all honesty, had little reason to seek out either hers or her husband's help in anything. When danger loomed everyone wanted something from the powerful Dark One, just as they had in days long past, but when it was quiet they were left well enough alone. Rumple was perfectly content to leave it that way - in fact, he'd prefer if they left him alone all together - but it made Belle feel isolated at times. With a few exceptions, if she didn't make an effort to see those that she hoped she could call friends, she would never hear from them. She made the effort, as did just a few like Ruby, and even Henry had dropped by a time or two, but Belle had a sneaky suspicion he'd been looking for his grandfather, other than that, she hadn't seen many people.

The other possibility - and one that she clung to in hopes that it was truer than the idea that the heroes of Storybrooke had little use for them unless all hell was breaking loose - was that they were giving Rumple and she space. He had lost his son, had been held captive by Bae's murderer, and they were newly married. Her love hid behind a rather sharp and dangerous outer shell that few understood how to get past, so in the end it was easier to simply let him be. While she was certain that the others would, eventually, see him for who he truly was underneath all of that, she knew it would take time.

"There's got to be more to it than just that," Emma mused as she leaned against her desk at the sheriff's office.

Belle shrugged. "Nothing seems to be missing. I went through everything."

"And you can't think of anyone he's pissed off recently?"

"Not in the month he's been home, no," Belle answered pointedly and to her credit Emma grimaced.

"Sorry."

Belle sighed and offered a sad smile. "It's not just you," she admitted softly. "It's not like he's made an effort to put things back the way they were… whatever that actually means. I'm hoping that lunch with Henry will help. He's been... Rumple holds everything inside because he's rarely had a soul he could trust to share it with. He searched for Bae so long just to have him ripped away. It's not something that he can just let go of." She stopped, realizing that Emma was staring at her as she worked through her thoughts and she gave a short laugh. Maybe she had been keeping too much to herself as well. "I just think it'll be good for him to focus on something other than his loss."

"He hasn't seemed to want to before now," Storybrooke's savior said hesitantly.

"He has, he just hasn't known how to approach it."

Emma nodded slowly, seeming to soak the words in and let them rattle around in her mind for a moment.

"It could be good for them." Belle watched the blonde for just a moment and a frown tugged at her lips. "I'm sorry, I haven't even asked how you're holding up with this, as if we're the only ones that were affected by it." She reached out, fingers just barely grazing Emma's jacket. "He loved you, you know. We spend some time together before he opened the vault and he-"

Emma pulled away as if she'd stepped too close to an open flame. "Yeah. I know," she huffed. "Listen, I've got some things to handle, so if you wouldn't mind just making sure Gold doesn't teach Henry how to rip people's hearts out or whatever craziness comes with dark magic…"

"I'll make sure he behaves," Belle chuckled. It seemed that poor Henry had quite a few family members that built up walls to hide behind. It was a wonder the boy seemed as open as he was.

"Great. Thanks."

Belle knew a dismissal when she heard one and she offered one more smile before turning, pulling her long coat up and around her shoulders. Things would get better. Given time, they always got better. Loss left a deep wound behind - sometimes one not easily recognized unless you took the time to really look - and it appeared that Baelfire's passing had touched more than just her own little circle. Henry, Emma, and there was no telling how many more that just hadn't said. Rumple might not be ready to face the world, but he needed to, if only to make sure he knew that he was not alone in that pain. Henry was a good first step, and perhaps that's what he really needed. One step would lead to another and then to another, and with each day the pain would fade a little more into the background as life moved forward. It would never go away, and she wasn't so naive to think that it would, but it could lessen. Bae's memory could be what brought the little tattered family together, and from what Belle knew, that would have brought a smile to his face.

He'd beaten Henry there, but that wasn't much of a surprise. Rumplestiltskin had been out of the door when his grandson had called him back. He'd almost decided that it would be best just to head home, to avoid even the last rounds of the lunch crowd at Granny's, but there'd been something in his voice when he'd called and he had agreed to lunch. He'd broken one deal in his life and he'd be damned if he'd break even a little one with his grandson.

Granny had quirked an eyebrow when he'd entered, but hadn't said anything. She'd put an ice tea down without a word and had gone back to wiping down the counter about the time that his grandson came bounding in, still stomping the snow and ice from his shoes at the front door. He pulled the cap from his head, dark hair untamed and so very much like Bae's had been at that age, and he grinned widely at the sight of Rumplestiltskin sat somewhat patiently in the booth, notebook set waiting on the table.

Rumplestiltskin had lived a long time, and he fancied himself an expert in much and certainly knowledgeable in that much more. Over the years he'd developed a keen sense to read between the lines, even if those lines were a wide grin that had seemed excitable at a distance. As Henry drew closer, he saw there was more under it, and that more seemed to be utter relief. The boy was excited, it was true, but something had happened. As he slid into the seat across from his grandfather, the elder man lifted a questioning eyebrow. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Is it a double cocoa sort of day, Henry?" Ruby called from the kitchen through the little order window.

"Yep! It's freezing out there," he announced and turned back, a pointed look aimed at the iced tea. "Really?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged, not deterred by the question. "What happened?"

The excitement fell a notch or two and he'd been caught. "I had another dream," he admitted softly and Ruby set the cocoa that must have already been in the process of being poured when she'd asked down in front of him. He thanked her and took a sip. "It kept going."

"The dream?"

"Yeah."

He wasn't saying something, and the way he kept sipping on the cocoa so he wouldn't have to said more than words might. "What did you see, Henry?" he prodded softly.

"First tell me what you found."

Rumplestiltskin pulled in a deep breath, scooting the notebook between them. "You were right to put it immediately to paper."

"I was afraid I'd forget it."

"But you haven't, have you?"

He watched the boy, but he knew the answer before he received a confirming nod. He'd found traces of a spell that led through in Henry's hurried writings. The traces hadn't been enough to follow the trail back to the original spell, much less the castor themself, but it was enough to know that something was amiss and he and Henry were at the center if it.

Rumplestiltskin sighed and his grandson leaned forward. "Why would I dream about people thinking you'd killed my mom? Am I going crazy?"

"No, Henry, you're not going crazy," his grandfather promised softly. "You were right to come to me on this, though I am curious why not your mother."

"Mom would freak out. Both of them, and you helped when I got stuck in the Netherworld and... Well you're in the dream too. The one I had before I came was really intense." He leaned forward just a little more and his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Gramps was after you. He was convinced you'd killed Emma and he... Well he hurt you."

Hurt was an understatement and a ghost of a pain drifted through his memory from his own nightmare that morning. Henry had been right. It felt more real than any dream that wasn't pulling from either his past or his future ever had. He could still feel Snow's arrow and David's blade tearing at him. It wasn't something he wanted to discuss with anyone, much less a boy that was far too young to be introduced to any further terrors than he'd already endured.

Rumplestiltskin looked across the table and found his grandson staring back. A lie bubbled up in his throat, some sort of half truth or partial explanation that wouldn't let him in to what he was really thinking, but there was something there in those eyes that looked so like Bae's that made him pause. He didn't flinch as the burgers that neither of them had actually ordered were set down in front of them, nor did he even acknowledge Ruby as she set them down. He simply studied his grandson until she was gone, steeling his courage that always seemed to be so lacking at all the wrong times. "I had the same dream," he confessed softly when they were alone again.

Henry had just taken a bite of his food and nearly choked on it. "You did?"

"David chasing me down and oh so convinced I was responsible for a death that I'd have no reason to cause, yes."

His grandson grimaced at that. "Did you…"

"I don't know. I woke up when… well not long after… What?"

Henry looked horrified in that moment, fork clattering down to his plate as his grandfather spoke and his eyes wide. "You're okay, right?"

"It was a dream, Henry."

"So was the room on fire and it left scars."

"Are you… worried about me?" Rumplestiltskin asked hesitantly.

"Of course I am!"

Words escaped him at the naked honesty in the boy's voice. They hadn't been close as Charming and Henry were, and he'd had to fight off his own dark impulses not to murder his grandson outright to save his own life - granted, he wasn't entirely sure that Henry knew about all of that - but here he was, fully afraid for a man that many likely thought deserved whatever death he was finally dealt. It warmed the chill that had never really left him since he had woken that morning and Rumplestiltskin's thin lips pulled into a smile. It was small, but it was real. "I'm alright, Henry. We'll figure this out."

"Yeah," he agreed, picking up his fork like the words had made the world a better place again. "That's what Operation Sandman's about. Making sure our family stays alive and whole, right?"

"Operation... what?"

Henry grinned. "Operation Sandman," he repeated. "You said we would figure it out. Every mission needs a code name."

"Henry..." Rumplestiltskin began to argue. They had no idea how deep this would go. It could be an odd quirk with a bit of untrained magic gone wrong or it could become as dangerous as the nightmares would indicate.

"C'mon, Grandpa, you can't cut me out of this one. I'm in the middle of it now."

"That's what I'm not comfortable with. It'd be best if we put as much distance between whatever is causing this and you as possible."

"I'm not afraid. Anyway, I want to spend time with you," he argued and Rumplestiltskin would have chuckled at his budding little manipulator of a grandson had the words not tugged at his heart. His hamburger was completely forgotten in front of him and his dark eyes were fixed on the Dark One, waiting for a response.

Rumplestiltskin pulled in a steadying breath. He was going to regret this. "You're not to go off investigating this on your own, do you hear?"

"But you'll let me help?"

"If you'll do as I say."

"Completely," Henry promised enthusiastically. "Totally. Anything you say, Grandpa." He was grinning so hard that it looked like it should be hurting his face. "Operation Sandman is going to be awesome!"

Rumplestiltskin almost argued the name again, but found he couldn't quite bring himself to. "Right," he managed after a moment and the boy beamed, starting in on the burger again. His grandfather wasn't sure quite what they'd gotten themselves into this time, but he knew he couldn't betray this lad sitting across the table from him. He'd been right. He was just as much a part of this as Rumple was. Leaving him to his own devices would ensure the boy got himself tangled up in something without someone there to help pull him back out. Henry didn't seem inclined to bring the rest of his family into the middle of it, and Rumplestiltskin was secretly glad for that. There were enough questions, enough suspicions after Zelena and the dagger and everything that had happened. It had left him less willing to trust Storybrooke's heroes than usual, and he had no desire to have them interrogating him on if he intended to kill their precious little savior or not. He had no reason to wish Emma dead. She was his grandson's mother and no matter what the future held, killing her would be an utter betrayal to the boy that was willing to put his faith so blindly in the monster sitting across the table from him. He wouldn't do it. He wouldn't risk shattering Baelfire's son's heart. Nothing in all the worlds could make him.

TBC

Notes: I've been receiving questions about Bae and if he'll make an appearance in this story. While this is set after the end of 3B where Baelfire dies, I will go as far as to say that I'm pretty sure I'm incapable of writing a story without Bae in it. That's about all I can say without completely spoiling later events in this story :)

Next time, in Chapter Three - Rumple opens up to Belle about the dreams, Henry seeks his grandfather's help at odd hours, and Regina and Emma discuss their son.