A/N: Rumple isn't in the right frame of mind to tell you right now, so I will. Elena is my version of the woman who came to tell him that the pirates had taken Milah before this story started. She isn't named in the show, or explained. Elena was friends with Milah and Rumple before the war, and is one of those war widows Milah envies. This is also likely to be my shortest chapter.
Chapter 2
The Meat Pie
Either he fell asleep, or was just so lost to the world he was oblivious to the sound of someone moving about his home, but the rich smell of hot meat pie brought him out of the abyss into which he had fallen.
Elena sat by the fire, tending it as she warmed the meat pie Rumplestiltskin had bought for Bae in the cooking pot.
"Bae..." he moaned. It was meant for Bae.
Elena looked up and sighed. "I'm sorry," she said, coming over and helping him off the floor and onto a chair. "I know it must be a shock. Here, drink some tea. When you're ready, we can talk."
She pressed a cup into his hands and held it there a moment until she was sure he wouldn't spill it. The warmth seeped through to his hands, but he didn't drink.
"You knew?" he managed. "How?"
"I didn't. Not really. Not until I saw you returning just now." Elena placed the steaming meat pie on the table next to Rumplestiltskin. She wiped her hands on the shawl around her neck and sat down, twisting the ends of the fabric. "I'm sorry. I should have realized sooner. I should have warned you. I should have stopped her."
Rumplestiltskin looked down at the cup of tea in his hands. "So it was Milah."
"She came back to get Baelfire. She said they were going to take a ride around the harbor before the ship left. That what I had seen earlier had been nothing more than a friendly business transaction to secure the boy a bit of adventure while the opportunity was there. I assumed she had crossed paths with you, explained the situation, and came back to get your son while you continued down to the docks."
Rumplestiltskin took a sip of the cooling tea, wishing for something stronger, but at least the nausea was gone.
"How long?" he asked.
"Not long," she said. "You could have passed them on the road, though I suppose Milah would have avoided taking the same path."
"So she's finally found the family she could never have with me," he said, picking at the meat pie. He loved the smell, and couldn't imagine letting it go to waste even though he wasn't hungry.
"I'm so sorry, Rumplestiltskin."
"Leave. Please."
Elena stiffened. He knew his tone had been too harsh, but he didn't care. The meat pie tasted of misery and loneliness. He wanted to weep for his one remaining childhood comfort, now forever ruined for him. He closed his eyes and refused to look up even as he heard the closest person he's had to a friend these past four years rise to her feet and make her way to the door.
The footsteps paused a moment, clothing rustled, a scrape of wood, and the footsteps came back. The familiar thunk of his walking stick as Elena propped it against the table surprised him, and he looked up despite himself.
"Milah always believed in you before the war," she said. "Even after you came back a deserter and a coward, she believed that you could escape all this and start over. The only thing stopping you is yourself. If what Milah told me that first night is true, that you did it because a seer told you Baelfire would be left fatherless, then I know you can do it again. Take whatever time you need right now. But when you've thought it through, you'll realize I'm right. You don't have to be a coward. You can get your son back. And Milah, if you still want her. Just don't sit here letting your sacrifices be in vain. Don't let the prophecy win after all this time."
Tears were flowing freely down his face by the time she finished what, on some level, felt like a scolding. He wanted to say something. He should say something. But the words wouldn't form. And then she was gone, leaving him fingering the notches on his walking stick measuring the yearly growth of a four-year-old boy.