Chapter Sixteen—"The Unexpected"

Unbeknownst to either Lacey French or Mr. Gold, young Henry Mills had done both of them a favor. Or, at least he thought he had, although he never would have expected the Beast to take over a week to actually call Beauty and let her know that a box of books ordered for the library had been accidentally delivered to the pawn shop. By which, of course, actually meant that Henry had taken it upon himself to redirect said box to the shop, making sure it was underneath another delivery so that Mr. Gold (or rather, Dove, who took care of all the packages) brought it inside without reading the address label. In fact, Henry had gone so far as to tear the label so that it wasn't immediately evident where the box belonged; only after opening it and seeing the invoice inside would Gold realize that the box was not intended for him, and then he would have to talk to Miss French.

What Henry did not know, of course, was that Gold had watched him execute the entire setup, and that he had let it happen. Rumplestiltskin could admire a budding young manipulator, after all, and he wanted to do nothing to endanger Henry's belief in the curse. He had not anticipated that the Savior would have a child, nor that said child would be so intimately involved in making her believe (though he'd had an inkling or two that the swan princess would prove difficult). Despite that, Rumplestiltskin was more than happy see young Mr. Nolan trying to get things moving in the right direction. That was why he hadn't just sent Dove over to the library with the box once he'd discovered it; the clever lad was watching, and it wouldn't do to shatter his beliefs right when Emma needed them most.

Unfortunately, that still left him with a box full of books that belonged in the library, which meant he had to call the librarian. If Henry assumed it was the curse keeping them apart, that was well and good, but Rumplestiltskin knew differently. He had managed to stay away from Lacey—from Belle—for two weeks, ever since that mess with Princess Ella's child. The words she'd said then stung all the more because he deserved them, but he was trying like hell to keep her and Gabrielle (Renee! She is not your daughter here, or at least not that either of them knows.) safe. But it still burned…and now he needed to break his self-imposed drought.

One never knew what it took to keep the Savior on track, and if letting her boy think that he was picking the curse apart bit by bit was what it took, Rumplestiltskin would do that. So, he picked up the phone and dialed the library number, not allowing himself to call the cell phone number even Gold had known by heart.

"Storybrooke Library, how may I help you?"

Just hearing her voice was almost enough to take his breath away; his heart hammered against his rib cage, and for a moment, even the dark voice of his curse was silent, drowned out by a power even it could not withstand. Several seconds passed before Rumplestiltskin could find his voice, could remind himself that this was Lacey on the other hand and he had to do the right thing.

"Hello?" she asked when he did not speak, and Rumplestiltskin coughed to make his voice work.

"It seems that a box for the library was delivered to my shop," he said without bothering with any sort of greeting. "Will it trouble you too much to pick it up?"

"Hello to you, too," Lacey retorted with all of Belle's old fire. Hearing her so feisty—where Lacey was usually quiet and sometimes downright shy—made Rumplestiltskin swallow. Time really was moving, and people were trying to become their old selves again, whether they knew it or not.

"I…" he started, but then chickened out, not knowing what to say.

"Never mind. I'll pick the box up," she cut in. "Will you be there for the next while?"

"Yes," Rumplestiltskin said quietly. "Yes, I will."

"Good. And don't decide to be a jerk and just leave." Click.

He deserved this. He really did. Rumplestiltskin had done this to himself, and now he was paying the price—but any price was worth paying if it kept Belle and Gabrielle away from Cora. Until he could kill her. Once the curse was broken, once her caveats no longer applied, Rumplestiltskin would be free to remove that threat to his family, and free to beg Belle to forgive him. He hoped she would understand—they had discussed the separation, had decided it was for the best while they were cursed—but there was no guarantee that she would. Belle wouldn't be happy that he had delayed in waking her up (or didn't plan to, not now, because then he wouldn't be able to stay away from her), but Rumplestiltskin hoped she could forgive him.

He wasn't sure what he'd do if she didn't.

Number 43, Dunfell Road.

Emma stood in front of the rundown house, staring at its peeling paint, damaged roof, and unkempt lawn with a frown on her face. Yes, this certainly was the place that Mary Margaret had been told to deliver the money—cash only, and now $1,200 because of Emma's foolishness in going to talk to Keith about the theft. She felt horrible for that one, particularly because Mary Margaret had warned her, so Emma had pulled the cash out of her own bank account and refused to let her roommate pay for her mistake. She also hadn't told Mary Margaret what she planned on doing, because, well, she was pretty sure that Mary Margaret wouldn't approve. Mary Margaret was a good person, but she picked odd moments to be timid, and right now she was frightened. So, Emma would do this on her own.

It had been a chance comment of Henry's that brought Emma to an interesting conclusion, and she really did think she was crazy for deciding upon this course of action. But Henry insisted that Nicholas and Ava Zimmer were the Woodcutter's kids, and that the Woodcutter wasn't dead. The Book claimed that their father had been imprisoned by the Evil Queen for having given Snow White shelter while she was on the run, after which she had turned the twins—Hansel and Gretel, naturally—over to the Blind Witch for a snack. The pair had escaped, but their father had not, and when the curse had been cast, he had still been the Evil Queen's prisoner. Emma didn't exactly believe that the Zimmer kids were Hansel and Gretel, but she had been starting to wonder if Henry's Book was at least partially factual. Maybe it just used fairytales to tell the actual stories of people in Storybrooke. That was the most logical conclusion she had come to, and even it made a certain amount of twisted sense.

Stepping forward, she placed the cash-filled envelop in the mailbox and closed it once more. Then, Emma made a show of walking away and getting in her car. She even drove the bug a short distance, hanging a left down the next road before stopping and turning the car off. Getting out and closing the door quietly enough so that the sound didn't carry, Emma sprinted between two houses on Dunavon Place, dashing across three lawns, and ducking behind a tree. From there, she could see the mailbox, and Emma didn't have to wait long at all. Within five minutes, a pair of children came out of the abandoned house and casually checked the mail box as if it was something they did every day. The girl—Ava, Emma recalled—reached in and removed the envelope, and then the pair wandered back into the house.

Emma followed them.

Soon enough, she'd discovered that the top floors of the house really were empty, but there was a faint light shining up from the basement. Quietly, Emma crept down the stairs—the kids hadn't bothered to close the door—and found the twins seated near a battery-powered light amidst a collection of battered furniture that had obviously been scrounged up from several somewheres. They were already busy counting the money, but they didn't look happy. Instead, the twins looked very nervous.

"Count it again," Ava told her brother. If we give Mr. Tollak the wrong amount, he'll take it out on us."

"He does that, anyway," Nicholas pointed out glumly, staring longingly at the stack of cash. "I just want to buy some candy. Can't we take a little?"

"Well, we can't. You know that."

"How about I buy some for you, instead?" Emma said to enter the conversation. Both children jumped, turning to stare at her with wide and frightened eyes.

"You can't be here!" Nicholas yelped as Ava hurriedly swept the cash into a bag.

"If you can, I can," Emma replied casually. "No one owns this place, right?"

"Mr. Toll—"

"Quiet!" Ava cut her twin off, and he glared. She looked at Emma, hostility and mistrust plain in her expression. "What do you want?"

"To help you," she answered honestly, sitting down on the second stair from the bottom. Emma wasn't sure what she could do for these kids, but she knew what it was like to be in their position, hopeless and alone and out of choices. Despite what Henry thought, Emma had been in more than a few shady group homes. Oh, she'd never lived in one that used her as a thief—she'd learned that skill on her own, and from Neal—but she'd been on the bad end of just about everything else. At least the Zimmers were still together, but Emma knew that wasn't enough.

"Why would you want to do that?" the young girl asked suspiciously.

"Because I've been in your shoes," she said bluntly. "I bounced around between fifteen or so foster homes and group homes until I ran away when I was sixteen. So, I know how it is."

"No one goes to foster homes here," Nicholas said glumly.

"No one?" Emma echoed in surprise. Storybrooke was a small town, but it wasn't that small, and it also wasn't that far from other towns. There had to be homes willing to take kids in, didn't there?

"No one ever leaves Fagin's," Ava confirmed. "Once you're in, you're stuck."

"That doesn't sound nice."

Ava's expression darkened. "It isn't."

Lacey arrived just as Rumplestiltskin was slipping his spare cell phone—the one with the untraceable number—out of the safe at the back of the shop. He'd half hoped that she wouldn't show up, because then he could just send Dove over to the library with the box with a clear conscience…but he also burned to see her. Too long had passed since the debacle with Ashley's baby, and he missed her so much. But I got the favor I needed, the one that will help me find Bae, he told himself. And I kept Belle and Gabi safe. That's what matters. That was his mantra. So long as he could keep his family safe, Rumplestiltskin viewed any price as worth paying.

Closing the door behind herself as the little bell jingled, Lacey took several steps into the shop and then stopped. She just stood there, staring at him as Rumplestiltskin stared at her. Her eyes were wide and uncertain, hopeful and cautious all at the same time, but seeing her was like coming home. His breath felt short, and his chest was suddenly tight. Belle was so beautiful.

Finally, however, he could take the awkward and painful silence no longer. "The box is right here," he managed, stuttering a little. "I didn't know until I opened it—the label was damaged, and, uh…"

"You could apologize," Lacey said when he trailed off. Rumplestiltskin blinked.

He'd told himself he wouldn't. Told himself that he had to stay away from her, and yet here he was, wanting to grovel at her feet and make everything right. He loved her, even when she was Lacey, because Gold had loved Lacey, too, and there was still a bit of Gold inside him and probably always would be. This woman, no matter what form she took, was his True Love. His wife. And he missed her and their daughter more than he had ever thought possible. I have to keep them safe, he told himself yet again, digging into the darkest parts of his soul to find enough strength to do what he had to.

"For what?" he asked, hating it when his voice broke.

"Don't jerk me around, Gold," she snapped. "You know what I mean."

"I do." Rumplestiltskin had to look away. There was dust on the counter; he'd have to see to fixing that. Dust. How ironic. The curse had given Gold and Lacey a backstory similar to their actual lives; Lacey had come to work for Gold when she hadn't been able to make ends meet, desperate to earn extra money to pay Renee's medical bills. And then they had fallen for one another, despite Gold's toxic and unwanted relationship with Cora. They'd kept their relationship secret to keep Lacey safe, but Gold and Lacey had still been in love.

"Well?" Somehow, there was no blame in her voice. Only hope.

Hope that he could not bear to crush.

"I am sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I should not have said what I did. I was just…I was just trying to scare you away. I need you to be safe, and I'm not safe to be around. Particularly now."

"I'm sorry, too," Lacey replied, all too quickly. "I shouldn't have called you a coward."

"I am one. Always have been," Rumplestiltskin replied automatically, and only then realized he was moving, limping around the counter and meeting her halfway. Somehow, despite his best intentions, Lacey wound up in his arms, and that was one of the best feelings in the world.

"Don't say that." Brilliant blue eyes looked up at him, and their lips started moving together without either voicing the desire to kiss. Rumplestiltskin barely stopped himself in time, shaking his head and watching heartbreak flash across Lacey's face.

"Sweetheart, if I kiss you now, I will never let you leave," he said honestly, reaching up to brush his fingers gently across her cheek. Lacey leaned into his touch, and just having her here, having her so close, made him want Belle so terribly that the next words almost stuck in his throat. "It's not safe for us to be together. Not right now. But soon, I promise things will change."

"Just leave her," Lacey begged. "Please. She's terrible to you, and I know she hurts you. Please, Gold."

"I wish I could."

"You can! It's not that hard—unless she has something on you? Something you can't resist?" She had Belle's smarts, and although Lacey was probably thinking that Cora was blackmailing Gold, she wasn't far from the truth at all.

"Something like that," Rumplestiltskin replied as neutrally as he could.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in response, and now it was her turn to reach up and brush hair out of his face. "Tell me it won't be for long, even if you have to lie to me. Renee misses you, too."

"It won't be," he promised. I'll make sure it isn't. And when the curse breaks, I'll rip Cora apart with my bare hands if I must, and then we'll both be free. The vindictive voice of his curse fully agreed with that last thought, quieter though it always was around Belle.

"I have to leave, don't I?" Lacey asked, and Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes, struggling to keep control of himself.

"Yes," he managed to say tightly. "Or I won't be able to let you."

Her laugh was watery. "That wouldn't be so bad. I could do with being your prisoner."

Rumplestiltskin only managed a snort at that one. You have no idea that you already have been, he wanted to tell her, but didn't. Instead, he kissed the top of her head—burning to kiss more—and forced himself to release Lacey and step back. "Go on," he whispered.

Lacey nodded jerkily, grabbed the box off of the counter, and left the shop, but not before casting one last glance over her shoulder. He tried to force a smile for her, the words 'I love you' struggling to make it past his self-control. But Gold had never said that to Lacey, and Rumplestiltskin could not risk doing so now. He had no idea if the mere words would be powerful enough to make use of his second safety valve, only that he couldn't risk waking Belle up. Not yet. Not until he knew he could keep her and Gabi safe. Instead, he watched her leave, wondering all the while how he had managed to deserve the love of such an amazing woman.

Twice.

4 years, 1 month Before the Curse

"I'm sorry."

The beautiful voice startled him; Rumplestiltskin had been hunched over his workbench, completely focused on creating a useless but complicated little elixir designed to combat a plague that rarely broke out in the Enchanted Forest. His entire attention had been absorbed by stirring the potion just so—it required forty-six stirs, not a single stir more or less, lest the elixir be completely ruined—but the moment Belle spoke, he abandoned the potion entirely and jerked upright. Wide eyed, he stared at her, blinking rapidly to reassure himself that she really was there. After all, he hadn't expected her to come back. Not this time.

Belle had only been back at the Dark Castle for a little over a month. The Sheriff of Nottingham had departed only a week earlier, and Rumplestiltskin had foolishly allowed himself to start trusting this clever woman he was in love with. Because of that, he had foolishly told her the truth about his plans. But he'd been feeling so damn satisfied with himself, with the way he'd been bringing things back on track. Cora's actions were far harder to predict than Regina's would have been—she was far more calculating and embraced the Evil Queen role much more willingly—so it took a lot of extra work to make sure that people connected the way they should. Rumplestiltskin had just finished ensuring that a certain runaway princess would meet a certain werewolf. Had things worked out differently, they would have spent at least a year on the run together, but things did not. Yet it was imperative that they become friends, so he manufactured a reason for Snow and her Prince Charming to visit a certain village, and then cleverly separated them just before the full moon, leaving Snow to meet Red.

That success had now soured, however, because it had led him to tell Belle about the curse.

Of course, she had asked why he wanted to build a friendship between a runaway princess and a peasant girl, and a vague explanation about how that might eventually matter was hardly enough to fool her. So, he'd stupidly explained that Red would later help save Snow's prince from the Evil Queen, and that the werewolf would be integral in the rebellion those two would later lead. But Belle had asked too many clever questions, and soon enough, Rumplestiltskin had found himself admitting that his ultimate goal was to facilitate a curse that would rip them all out of the Enchanted Forest and deposit them, sans memories and personalities, in the Land Without Magic.

Belle had asked him to stop. Told him that he could not possibly allow such a horrible thing to happen, that he was a better man than that and she couldn't believe he'd be a part of this—and then Rumplestiltskin had, rather stupidly, admitted that he'd written said curse, and that it was almost finished. Horrified, she had stormed out, and Rumplestiltskin had never expected to see her again. He had tried to tell her that it was the only way to find his son, the one he'd told her about a month earlier, when he'd finally shared the story he had promised her if she came back. But that hadn't seemed to matter. Belle had still left, stalking out before he had a chance to finish his first sentence.

Blinking did not make this apparition vanish, however, so he rose woodenly from his work bench to face her.

"I'm sorry," Belle repeated. "I shouldn't have walked out like that when you were trying to explain."

Rumplestiltskin swallowed. "I didn't think you wanted to see me again," he admitted quietly.

"I didn't," she replied. "I was angry. And…horrified. But you said that you were trying to find your son, and I didn't give you much of a chance, so I thought I should listen before judging."

"I thought you'd left."

Belle shook her head. "I just went for a walk."

"Oh." Pain welled up inside him. Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure how to deal with this; he was certain that she would leave if he finished telling her the truth, but he'd told her too much to manage a clever lie, now. He'd always known that Belle would leave him eventually, though. Everyone he'd ever loved had left in one way or another; he was good at being abandoned. Besides, he knew that his curse made him more difficult than not, and that being what he was now, he deserved to be left. He almost would have rathered that she not come back at all, not if she was just going to turn around and leave again.

Tentatively, Belle stepped forward, putting a hand on his left arm. Rumplestiltskin jumped, but she gave him an apologetic smile. "Why do you need this curse?"

He looked away. He didn't want to talk about this, not if it was going to get his heart broken. "Because it's the only way to cross realms, the only path to the Land Without Magic," Rumplestiltskin admitted in a whisper, wishing he could make her understand but knowing he couldn't. His head snapped around to look at Belle, his voice turning fierce. "I can't leave him there. I won't."

"Isn't there some other way? Anything?"

"Don't you think I've spent the last three centuries trying every other way? Even the Blue Fairy says that only a curse will do it," he spat. "If there was another way, I would have done it by now, and Bae wouldn't be stuck there."

Kill her! his curse demanded. She endangers your plans, endangers you! Get rid of her now before she can ruin everything. Fighting back that urge sent a vicious tremor through Rumplestiltskin; his rage was only building and building, because it had been so long since he'd lost his son and he was so close. He couldn't let Belle ruin that. He couldn't. Even if he loved her.

"Must it be so terrible, though?" she questioned quietly, her hand still on his arm and her presence somehow soothing out the dark whispers of magic in his mind. "Must everyone suffer so much?"

"All magic comes at a price," he responded automatically, shrugging. "There's not...they won't have to be miserable, but they can't remember who they are. All of our memories are part of the price, and if they were not taken, the curse might not ever be broken. And the curse will be broken."

"It will?" Belle echoed, sounding hopeful.

"Oh, yes. I'll make certain of that."

Belle looked thoughtful. "You said time will freeze, too? That no one will lose actual years with their family, even if they are separated by the curse? No one will age, and no one will change? They'll just walk around in a daze, not knowing the truth."

"It's the most mercy I can offer," Rumplestiltskin answered honestly enough. He didn't have much of a conscience left, but he knew Cora. Cora would make everyone miserable because she had once been miserable, and she felt she was entitled to take her rage and her pain out on the world. But he could have a little revenge on her by making her vengeance not as sweet as she expected, by boring the Evil Queen while he gave her the very gift she thought she wanted. In the end, that would mean Cora became almost eager for the changes the savior would bring with her, and Rumplestiltskin wanted that. He wanted Cora to relish the challenge of defeating Eva's granddaughter, not trying to eliminate her right off the bat. And then the little Savior will defeat her, and I will find Bae.

Come to think of it, that was something he should add to the curse. Killing the Savior would break the Dark Curse immediately. That should keep Cora in line a little.

"Then how can I help?" Belle asked, and he almost didn't register the words. Rumplestiltskin could only stare.

"What?"

"How can I help?" she repeated. "If this is the only way for you to find your son, I want to help you find him." When he continued to stare at her stupidly, she squeezed his arm and smiled. "I love you, Rumplestiltskin. Why did you think I wouldn't want to help?"

"No one ever does," he admitted in a whisper, and suddenly Belle's arms were around him.

"Well, I will," she declared, and for a long, blissful moment, the voice of his curse was silent in his mind. All he could feel was love for this amazing woman who had given her beautiful heart to such an ugly man.

"You should go," Rumplestiltskin managed to tell her, not wanting to but loving her too much to chain her to him.

"What?"

"You should leave," he said with the last of his courage. "Despite what you hope…I am still a monster."

Belle drew back to smile at him. "Don't you see? That's exactly the reason I have to stay."

Somehow, Emma managed to convince the twins to meet her in person to return the chess set. Usually, they dropped 'acquired' items off in a third location and then left another note saying where they were, but she talked them into meeting at Granny's instead. The promise of a nice meal—and dessert—seemed enough to win them over, particularly once she invited Henry along. That, and Emma made no move to take the $1,200 back from the twins, which she knew would send them running. They were scared of Tollak, and the last thing she wanted to do was endanger them. Emma hadn't met the man who ran Fagin's, but judging from what the twins didn't say, he wasn't the type who she wanted to make the kids cross. Instead, the four of them sat down in a corner booth, with the chess set stuffed into a cardboard box that Emma stuck between her and Henry on the vinyl bench seat.

Burgers and fries seemed to be the way to the Zimmer twins hearts, and Emma watched in amazement as Henry slowly drew the pair out of their shells. They were a little older than him, which meant Henry didn't know either all that well, but they seemed clever enough once they started talking. The most interesting story, however, came out when Henry asked what had happened to their parents.

"You're lucky you got adopted," Ava told him bluntly. "We were already too old for anyone to want us when our dad got taken away."

"Taken?" Leave it to Henry to jump on that right away, and Emma tried to throw him a look, but he ignored her.

"Taken, arrested, whatever. They said he stole from the mayor," Ava clarified with a bitter shrug.

Nicholas, however, looked up from his burger with a fierce look on his face. "He didn't! Dad told us everything. We would have known."

"Parents don't always tell their kids about things they aren't proud of," Emma said quietly, feeling for the twins. It was one thing to have been abandoned at birth. It was another to have your beloved parent taken away because they'd done something stupid. And that's why I gave Henry up. Because I couldn't be sure I'd be able to keep him and give him the life he deserves, she thought a little sadly. But Emma refused to think about what might have been. Henry had a good life, and at least he wasn't stuck in a group home like the twins, or like she'd been so often.

"But he was at home with us when they said he stole something," Nicholas protested.

Henry frowned. "Didn't he say that in the trial?"

"What trial?" Ava scowled harder. "There wasn't one. They just took us off to Fagin's and told us we'd never see him again."

"Who took you?" Emma asked curiously. The story rang true, as did the twins' obvious pain. But if they weren't lying, what was going on?

"The guy who's going to be sheriff," Nicholas grumbled.

"Believe me, kid, that's not happening if I can help it," Emma promised, making a mental note to look into Michael Tillman's disappearance. The lack of a trial sent up all kinds of red flags, and Emma couldn't quite believe that his kids would know nothing about what had happened.

Still, she had no choice but to send the twins back to Fagin's Group Home in the meantime. As much as Emma wanted to give them something better, she was in no position to do so. They were orphans, technically, and Storybrooke's law said they belonged in the group home unless someone adopted them. She did not, however, have to put up with it when the mayor—who happened to be walking by as Henry bid farewell to the twins—cooed:

"Slumming again, Miss Swan? Somehow, I doubt that buying rebellious orphans lunch will get you any votes." Cora smiled, but there were daggers in her eyes.

Emma, however, had been pushed far enough that day. "I suppose being a decent person never really occurred to you, did it, Madam Mayor?" she shot back.

"Decent people should not have to associate with lowborn trash," was the immediate answer, and Emma gaped.

"Is that what you think children are? If so, I feel damn sorry for Regina."

Somehow, that blow seemed to land, and Cora's smile vanished. "My daughter is my concern, Miss Swan. As is my town," she hissed. "And you will find that I am more than capable of maintaining control of both. The election is in one week. I hope that you're ready."

"More than ready," she snapped.

"We shall see." Cora smiled again and then walked away. Only then did Emma notice the buzzing coming from her back pocket. Curious, she pulled out her cell phone, only to discover that she had a text from a restricted number.

People disappear in Storybrooke, it read, and Emma frowned. "That's really not helpful," she muttered, but then the phone buzzed again and a second text appeared.

Look for them under the hospital.

A/N:Pieces are starting to slide into place, and the curse is definitely weakening. Who do you think sent that text to Emma? Do let me know what you think – feedback makes my day!

Stay tuned for Chapter Seventeen—"Victory is Sweet", where Cora confronts Gold about Lacey; Emma, Henry, and Regina dig for information on disappearing people; and Hook offers to help Emma. Back in the past, Cora confronts Snow after Leopold's death