A/N: Sorry for the delay. My Beta was out of town. This chapter seemed so much longer when I wrote it. Oh well. Enjoy! Only one more chapter left.
Chapter 15
Darkness and Death
The first crash of a burning tapestry falling to the floor startled Rumplestiltskin out of his stupor. He had killed a man. He killed the duke. And the room was on fire.
He reached out and picked up the bloody dagger from where it had fallen, wiping it clean on the hem of his patched cloak. Standing on unsteady legs, he limped out of the room leaning on his staff.
The stairwell was thick with smoke, making it hard to see and harder to breathe. He tucked the dagger in his belt and wrapped his cloak around him to shield himself and filter the air. Once outside, he collapsed on the ground coughing on smoke and relishing the cool night air. When he could breathe again, he pulled himself to his feet and looked around. The castle was abandoned, the fire continuing to spread. He only hoped no one was trapped. He didn't want anyone else to die because of him.
He limped along, more out of habit and shock than need, replaying the duke's death in his mind. The moment a defensive block became a murder stab. Could he have avoided it? Could he have escaped if he simply ran? If he hadn't been holding the dagger, if it had been safely tucked in his belt, could he have escaped after tripping the duke?
He stopped to wash his face in the river. The cool water did little to calm his thoughts. Downstream, pinpricks of firelight flickered to life in a pattern that ruled out fireflies, or fairies. A ship, leaning on the riverbank, its masts tangled in the trees. Rumplestiltskin stood. There was something unnatural about it, as if it was a ghost ship in a child's nightmare. He almost thought he heard screams.
He shook his head and started forward. Of course the captain would be shouting orders at his crew. They'd beached his ship. It wasn't until he was drawing level with the prow that the shouting became a distinct, terrified scream. It startled him into looking up at the ship, and he froze. The Jolly Roger.
Bae.
He was running before he even completed the thought, dropping his staff as his hands reached for dangling ropes to pull himself up to the deck. He hauled himself over the railing and landed on a dead crew member. He stumbled away from the body and headed for the back of the ship, his son's screams still ripping through the night.
"Bae!" he shouted as he ran towards the stairs to the upper deck. The screams stopped. "Bae!"
He darted up the steps. Jones and Milah lay dead on the deck, and between them knelt Bae. The boy was trembling, tears in his eyes.
"Papa," he said, his voice small. "I'm afraid."
Rumplestiltskin gathered him into his arms. "Don't you worry, son. Everything's gonna be fine."
"I do doubt that," a voice behind him said, low and menacing.
Bae sniffled and buried his face in Rumplestiltskin's chest. The man stood next to the ship's wheel, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. Even though Rumplestiltskin couldn't see his eyes, it felt as if he was staring into his soul, straight to the black stain of murder on his heart. No, nothing would ever be right again, save holding Bae in his arms.
"Have you ever wondered, is he really your child at all? Look how he mourns those who stole him from you."
"Please, don't speak of my boy like that," Rumplestiltskin whispered, hugging Bae tighter. He was his son. Of course he was. Milah wouldn't have stayed as long as she had if Bae belonged to another man.
The stranger continued his calm assault as if Rumplestiltskin hadn't spoken. "What right do you have to call him son when you can't even protect him from his nightmares?"
Dark smoke swirled around Bae, and Rumple's arms were suddenly empty. He reappeared standing with the stranger's gloved hand on his shoulder.
"No," Rumplestiltskin gasped. He stood, drawing the dagger and wishing for something more effective against magic. Against the Dark One. Where was Grima when he needed him?
"You can't even protect him from me."
Rumplestiltskin raised the dagger, pointing it at the Dark One. "Don't touch him."
The demon laughed and stepped forward, allowing Bae to back away until he bumped into the ship's wheel.
"How many did you kill to get that blade?" the Dark One pressed. He continued to stalk closer. "Who will protect the boy from you? What a poor bargain that would be, to lay down your soul to gain a useless knife."
He was right in front of him now, and it took everything Rumplestiltskin had not to back away. There were many stories of the Dark One terrorizing people, but none about trying to kill him. If anything could, it'd be a magical dagger, right? He could hear Bae calling him and begging the Dark One not to kill him. Whatever the demon wanted, and he suspected it was the dagger now that he'd recognized it, they wouldn't leave here alive. He was toying with them, and Rumplestiltskin refused to play.
He took a deep breath and pushed his fear aside, letting anger take its place. He matched the reptilian glare with one of his own. "Well, I wouldn't say it was useless. Still cuts through flesh rather nicely." He thrust the dagger into the Dark One's chest, right through the heart. Forgive me, Bae.
They fell to the deck, the Dark One landing on his back with Rumplestiltskin still gripping the dagger buried in his chest. The glittery gold texture of his face began to dissolve, melting into normal flesh. He laughed again, through the pain.
"It's you," Rumplestiltskin gasped. "You're Grima."
"Looks like you made a deal you didn't understand," Grima chuckled. "I don't think you're gonna do that again."
He's mad. Laughing while dying? Unless... "You wanted me to kill you?"
Grima's breath was becoming labored. "My life was such a burden. You'll see. Magic always comes with a price, and now it's yours to pay." His laugh this time came out as a choking cough.
My price? What do you mean, my price? The world had stopped making sense the moment he stole the dagger, and now two men were dead by his hand.
"Why me?" he whispered. "Why me?"
The response came in between Grima's dying gasps. "I know how to recognize a desperate soul."
Rumplestiltskin watched him take his last breath, then felt a tingling in his hand. The shadows played tricks with his mind, making him imagine glittery gold skin creeping across his hand. He tried to jerk away from the dagger, but his fingers wouldn't unclench, and the dagger pulled free from the body.
Visible beneath the layer of fresh blood, Rumplestiltskin had taken the place of Zoso on the blade. And his skin was turning gold.
No. No, no, no, no, no!
The dagger finally fell from his grip, landing on the deck with an ominous thunk.
"Papa?"
Rumplestiltskin couldn't stop trembling as he watched the transformation progress. The enormity of the situation threatened to drown him. He'd killed the Dark One only to become the Dark One. He didn't want this. He didn't want any of this!
Bae's little arms wrapped around his neck in a hug. His sobs cut through the panic, and Rumplestiltskin relaxed, rubbing his son's back.
"It'll be alright, son," he murmured. "We'll find a way."
They had to.