A/N: SORRY SORRY SORRY! I don't know where the time went. In my defense, this chapter was really difficult to get just right.

Special Thanks to Jokermask18, Grace5231973, and Fangirl308 for being my most frequent and reliable reviewers. And Extra-Special Thanks to my in-real-life beta, who might never see this note, for putting up with my Rumple fangirling and haphazard explanations of every canonical reference in this story while keeping me on track. They now know more about ONCE than they ever intended.

Also thanks to that Rumple-filled Winter Finale, I am wrestling with a new plot bunny. While the source material is quite tragic, the plot bunny suggests a lighter tone, perhaps because of its outlandishness. We shall see how that works out. I hope to start posting the new story before the Spring Premiere, as it will take place after Heroes and Villains, but before the "six weeks later" teaser. Thanks for reading and Happy Holidays!

Chapter 16

Happy Endings

They wandered for a time, traveling from city to city, places where a hood and a cloak could hide Rumplestiltskin's transformation. Over time, necessity required that he reveal himself in order to barter with the townsfolk. When he did, their reaction surprised him. His gold skin inspired polite indifference at best, or at worst, cautious fear. Which wasn't a terrible situation to be in when haggling over the price of meat.

The magic that came with the curse was more difficult to conceal. It lashed out when he felt threatened, often deadly and rarely justified. Until he could control it, Rumple could only be thankful Bae was never nearby. Turning people into snails and stepping on them was not the best coping mechanism for a boy to learn from his father.

But the more he learned about his powers, the more he realized he was changing. Not physically; that change had been complete before they left the Jolly Roger. Understanding bred confidence, and confidence bred arrogance. It showed in how easily he slipped into theatricality, how quick he was to snap at those who questioned his relationship to Bae. Was the boy safe with him? Was he really his son, or was he under some sinister enchantment?

All he wanted was Bae's happiness. And he was happy. He was happy just to spend time with his papa, no matter where they were or what they were doing. Living on a pirate ship for three years meant he was used to moving from place to place, and he never questioned Rumple when he said it was time to go. He'd play with the local boys all day and come back to tell his father all about their adventures saving beautiful damsels from fire-breathing dragons, or whatever other monsters they imagined. He'd be so excited, he wouldn't notice that Rumple could only manage half a smile or kept looking back to see if they were being followed.

You've sentenced him to a fate much worse. Growing up as your son!

Milah's words from when he had hobbled himself haunted him with their truth, and drove him to move on to another city each time he inadvertently killed someone. What kind of life was he giving Bae, on the run as the Dark One's son? It was impossible to hide what he had become anymore. The townsfolk recognized him now, no matter where he went. They'd hide from him if they could, but they needed the gold coin he paid them with as much as he needed their produce to feed himself and Bae.

But the stash they'd salvaged from the Jolly Roger before torching it as a funeral pyre was running low. He could take what he needed, force the townsfolk to bow and scrape and pay tribute to him as they had the duke, but he feared what giving in to that temptation would do to him. He had once been one of them, struggling to feed his wife and newborn son, to hold his family together despite constant ridicule for being a coward. Now he relished their fear, their eagerness to please him, and he stopped feeling quite so guilty when he let his magic crush someone brave enough to stand up to him. He hardly recognized himself at all.

What he feared most now wasn't an angry mob of townsfolk deciding to hunt down the beast he had become. He wasn't even afraid of dying anymore. The kris dagger in his belt was the only weapon that would kill the Dark One, and only by creating another. He wasn't about to let that power out of his control, but at least he wasn't bent on world domination. No, he feared his son would realize just how dark he had become. He feared the day Bae would see him as no different from the man who had slaughtered an entire pirate ship. It loomed inevitably on the horizon.

The solution was simple, but it was one he'd been running from since Bae was born.

Your actions will leave him fatherless.

It was just a matter of time before Bae truly would not be safe with him. He knew he would never intend to harm his son, but that wouldn't protect him from accidents or Rumple's enemies. He had to let him go. So he taught Bae how to survive on his own. How to light a fire, build a shelter, find drinkable water. How to beg for food, work to earn a few coins, and save every coin found until it was truly needed. In return, Bae taught Rumple how to fish, though neither of them was very good at it. He also had Rumple finish carving his name on the wooden sword, and they called it the Light Sword to counter the Dark One's dagger.

It was enough, for a time, until a town they had just left decided to finally kill the beast. It had been foolish to continue the pattern for several years. Eventually word got around that the Dark One was a coward, leaving town after every magical murder, and therefore couldn't possibly be the true Dark One that had terrified them for so long. This one could be stopped.

They were camped in the woods an hour's walk from the town, just out of sight of the road. Rumplestiltskin woke an hour before dawn. He looked back towards town out of habit. If he and Bae were to be attacked, it would not come from the front, or even from the sides. The danger was always behind them, in whichever town they had just left, so the half-dozen pinpricks of light weaving their way through the trees were all the warning he needed.

He reached over and shook Bae's shoulder. "Bae. Waken up, son. Come on, waken up. You have to go now."

Bae stretched and sat up, a half-formed question smothered by a yawn.

"Hush, boy," Rumple said, pointing at the floating lights. "I need you to run now. Run and don't look back."

Bae stood. "No. I can fight. Let me help you."

"Don't be ridiculous. There's too many of them."

"Then come with me!"

"Bae, please." He counted twelve now. Twelve flaming torches flickering as they passed behind trees, leading the mob ever closer to them. He could hear them now, their march a continuous crackle of twigs and dry leaves. Too many. "I can't risk losing you again. This is something I have to do on my own." Twenty. Was the whole town coming for him, then? "Please, Bae!"

Bae looked towards the advancing lights, and his eyes widened. He crashed into Rumple, hugging him so tight he could barely breathe. He laid a hand on his son's head and bent close to his ear.

"You go, son. I'll come find you." The lie comforted Bae, loosening his grip. "Run now, and don't stop. Don't turn back, no matter what."

This time, he obeyed.

All magic came with a price, and this was it. Rumple watched him go, knowing this was the moment he'd been dreading. The mob was too big to defeat without magic. He would survive, but the town would suffer as surely as it had in the Ogres War. Bae would never forgive him. He'd never see his son again. There was no going back.

When he could no longer see his son or hear his movements, Rumple turned and drew the dagger.

The mob was spread out on either side of the road, searching. For every man who held a torch or a lantern, another bore only a weapon. The hunters carried axes, spears, and daggers. The farmers, pitchforks and sickles. Other tradesmen armed themselves with whatever they could find: fire pokers, butcher's knives, walking sticks, clubs, even a shovel or two.

Rumple dispatched the closest three with the dagger before the fourth alerted the others. By the time he felled his eighth foe, five more surrounded him. None of the training he'd received during the Ogres War covered defending against such an attack.

Desperate, he threw up a shield with his magic, pushing them back, but not before an ax grazed his arm. As he stared at the wound, amazed to see his magic knit his skin back together, the mob rejoiced to see the beast bleed. The minute his shield failed, someone thrust a spear through his back.

Rumple fell to his knees in shock. The spearhead protruded from his chest, covered in his blood, but he wasn't dead.

The mob laughed. Such a weak Dark One. If only ogres were as easily slayed. Time to end this. Kill the beast and mount its head on the tavern wall.

The dagger fell from his fingers as he gripped the spear with both hands. Never again would he be mocked into submission. The staff crumbled to dust, and the wound healed, but Rumple was already moving.

He charged right at the nearest attacker and tore the pitchfork from the startled farmer's hands. The circle closed in around him. With no room to maneuver, he slammed the butt end of the pitchfork into the ground, dropping straight down with it in a crouch.

The metal exploded, sending shards in every direction. The men screamed. Rumple stayed low, eyes shut tight and hands clenched around the wooden shaft. The cries of pain continued until magic had stripped the life from each of the attackers.

When it was over, the bodies lay scattered on the hillside, bathed in the harsh shadows of dawn. Rumple retrieved his dagger and trudged into the forest, away from where Bae had fled. Maybe now word would spread of the Dark One's power and no one would be foolish enough to come after him again. If not, then at least Bae was safe. He was almost thirteen, older than Rumple had been when his father had abandoned him for Neverland. He hated that he was doing the same now, even though it was for Bae's benefit and not his own. Bae was capable and could take care of himself, maybe even find a kind old widow or spinster to take him in.

Rumplestiltskin, son of a coward, raised by spinners. Scared of ending up just like his father.

He'd done it, hadn't he? No matter what he did, the prophecy had found a way to come true. His actions were leaving Bae fatherless for the second time. The grief of that realization hit him hard, and he stumbled forward a few more steps before collapsing on a fallen tree, sobbing.

Villains don't get happy endings. And he was the worst, no different from his father, save for the bodies left in his wake. He didn't deserve happiness.

"Papa?"

The concern in his son's voice only encouraged fresh tears to cloud his vision. He hadn't heard his footsteps, and now it was too late to do anything but face his fate.

"Papa? I was so worried for you. Are you hurt? I saw the bodies..."

Rumple bent over, hiding his tears in his hands. He heard Bae's footsteps through the grass and leaves until he was standing right next to him. His hand touched Rumple's shoulder, and he couldn't stop another sob from breaking loose.

"Papa, why are you crying? We're safe now."

Rumple looked up, taking Bae's hands in his own. "But we're not safe, Bae. Look at me. I'm the Dark One, a monster." Bae started to shake his head, but Rumple pressed on. "As long as you're with me, you will never, ever be safe."

"I'm not afraid of you, Papa. I'm worried about what the dagger's curse has done to you, but you would never hurt me."

"Would you still say that if you saw me kill innocents instead of attackers?" Bae didn't answer. "I don't want to let you go, but I have to. It's destined to happen anyway."

Bae's fingers tightened around Rumple's. "What are you talking about?"

Rumple hesitated. "Before you were born, a seer told me my actions would leave you fatherless. I tried so hard to stop that happening, but for three years I thought I had failed. And now that I have you back again, I can't see how this can end well. You're my happy ending, Bae, but I'm a villain. And villains don't get happy endings."

"But you're not a villain. You saved me. You killed the Dark One."

"I became the Dark One, Bae. And all those townspeople back there certainly don't see me as a hero. They will never see their families again because of me. How many children like you are now fatherless because of me? They will never stop hunting me, and sooner or later someone is going to figure out our connection and hurt you to get to me." The tears were falling again. "I can't let that happen. I can't let you stay with me long enough for you to begin to see the monster."

Bae stepped back, out of Rumple's grasp, and turned away. No. Rumple's eyes widened and panic took hold. No.He couldn't watch him leave. He couldn't. It had been different when Bae had fled from the mob and Rumple simply walked the other way. He couldn't watch his son decide to leave him. It had been a mistake to let Bae find him after the battle. He couldn't breathe.

But Bae didn't leave. He turned back, eyes wide with earnest determination. "Then we'll go somewhere no one knows us. Somewhere we can start over, far from here, and find a way to free you from the dagger's curse." He stopped and looked curiously at Rumple, who sat staring, unable to move. "Oh," Bae said. He came closer and wrapped his arms around Rumple. "I'm here, papa," he whispered. "And I promise, I will never, ever leave you."

Rumple closed his eyes and felt his son press a kiss to his gold-skinned temple. I love you, Bae.

His first trembling breath shook loose a few more tears, but he felt strangely at peace with Bae's arms cradling his head against his chest. Fear made way for hope that they could survive this, together. All his reasoning to the contrary faded away until he could hardly remember why he tried to get Bae to leave.

He lifted his arms to return the hug, and Baelfire pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.

"Papa?" Bae's surprise melted into a grin.

Rumple smiled. "What is it, son?"

Bae grabbed one of Rumple's hands. "Look!"

His skin was exceptionally pale and pink, and his hand looked naked without the blackened fingernails he'd grown accustomed to. A perfectly human hand to match Bae's.

He blinked and looked up. "What happened?"

Bae looked happier than he'd ever seen him. "I think I broke your curse."

Rumplestiltskin looked back at his hand, then reached for the dagger. The blade was smooth, unmarked by even the decorative etching that had surrounded the name of the Dark One. It made Rumplestiltskin uneasy, that anonymity, as if the curse slumbered in wait for its next unsuspecting victim. One taste of blood, of death, and it could awaken.

"We should bury this," he said. "Someplace no one will find it until we can find a way to destroy it."

"And then what?" Bae asked.

Rumplestiltskin looked around, taking in the morning sun shining through the trees, the outskirts of a town waking up to a mournful resolution. "I want to go home, Bae. I want to stop running." He looked back at his son. "What town would you like to live in?"

Bae thought for a moment. "Well, I haven't visited this one place, but it's got a huge library that might help us figure out how to destroy the dagger."

Rumplestiltskin smiled. He'd heard of that place too. "Yes. I hear Avonlea is beautiful this time of year."