Chapter Eighteen—"Pressure Points"

"Look, Doctor, I know it's there," Emma said bluntly, standing with her hands on her hips. Mary Margaret Blanchard stood on one side and Sidney Glass on the other, all three glaring implacably. "And I'd hate to think that you have anything to do with imprisoning people without trial. In fact—"

"Wait a minute, what did you say?" Whale cut her off, his expression flashing from bored to worried in an instant.

"I said imprisoned without trial. As in, completely illegally. Or you can just call it kidnapping," Emma shrugged theatrically. "Whatever kind of picture you want to paint, you can bet it's going to be a messy one."

She didn't have to glance Sidney's way. Whale did that for her, turning his now-bug-eyed expression on the reporter as all the color drained out of his face. It seemed to take Storybrooke's senior doctor a long moment to find his voice; his mouth opened and closed soundlessly several times before he cleared his throat, still looking terrified. "I…I was told that it was an asylum. That everyone there, uh, belongs."

"There's no records of anyone having been lawfully committed," Emma retorted. They'd checked that one, spent two days combing through records just to make sure. After all, Emma couldn't discount the possibility of her anonymous tipster having lied to her, all to set her up for some spectacular failure. She wouldn't have put doing that past Cora, after all. The mayor would have loved to see her go down in flames. But that didn't seem to be the case—in fact, the text about People disappear in Storybrooke seemed to be right on. Emma now had a list of eight people who had gone missing in the last twenty-eight years, every one of them having vanished without a trace. She was starting to wonder how many of them she'd find in the hospital's basement.

"But Doctor Beauregard—" Whale started to object, only to have Sidney cut him off.

"No such person," the reporter declared with a smile. "You, Doctor Hopper, and Doctor Miner are the only licensed physicians in town."

How even such a small town got away with having just one real doctor, one psychiatrist, and one pediatrician was beyond Emma, but medical licenses were a matter of public record, and the only Beauregard in town was a security guard. There definitely wasn't a second psychiatrist running some super-secret insane asylum underneath the hospital. All the information about the so-called asylum might have appeared plausible on paper, but once Emma started digging, the perfect façade fell apart pretty damn quickly.

To give Whale credit, he seemed to figure that one out, and didn't argue from that point forward. He also didn't ask why the fired deputy sheriff was the one demanding to go down there, accompanied by a reporter and a school teacher, either, for which Emma was extremely grateful. After all, it wasn't like she had a search warrant. She didn't have a damn thing except facts to back her up and a story that she'd promised Sidney would be a good one. Whale didn't have to take them down to the so-called asylum, and he probably shouldn't have done so, but once Sidney handed over records that proved to him that there actually wasn't a Doctor Beauregard (although Miles Beauregard did seem to be responsible for the asylum's security, he certainly didn't have any kind of medical degree), Whale proved surprisingly cooperative.

"Nurse Zephyr, would you mind coming with us?" Whale asked nervously as the quartet walked past a tall, pale nurse with long red hair. Her curls were pulled back in a bun, and she turned to look at them with a bright smile.

"Of course, Doctor."

Whale probably wanted to bring her along just in case Emma decided to do something crazy, she figured. So she spent a moment studying 'Chloe Zephyr', as her nametag read, and decided that the nurse looked harmless enough. If having her along made Whale feel better, Emma was just fine with that. She just wanted to get this done before someone more official showed up or before Whale wised up and started asking questions.

"Be careful, Emma," Mary Margaret said softly, placing a gentle hand on her arm while Whale punched a code in on a door labeled EXIT. "We don't—"

"I know," Emma cut her off before Mary Margaret could say something that might make Whale chicken out. She knew that she had no legal right to be there. That was why she'd had to bully Whale into taking them down there voluntarily.

Of course, the doctor had paused in the doorway, so Emma shot him a glare.

"Let's go," she prompted him, and Whale led the way down the stairs, followed a little too closely by Zephyr. A severe looking nurse sat at a desk at the bottom, glancing up at them with an expression filled with boredom and then a little surprise when she saw that Whale was accompanied by three people who definitely weren't hospital staff.

"A little early for check-ups, isn't it, Doctor?" the nurse asked, her eyebrows going up.

Whale shifted nervously. "We're, uh, here for something else today, Nurse Ratched."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we are." Emma threw a pointed look at Whale, and he finally shrugged.

"This way, I guess." She turned to follow him down the corridor, but not before Sidney tried a charming smile on for the nurse.

"May I see your patient records, please?" he asked.

The nurse frowned. "Does the mayor know about this?"

"Would we be here if she didn't?" Mary Margaret countered, and Emma hadn't thought she could look so innocent. Particularly not if she's misleading someone. I didn't think that Mary Margaret had that in her. Emma tried to hide her smile as Whale turned a corner and led her down a long hallway with six solid metal doors on each side. Meanwhile, Mary Margaret and Sidney tag-teamed the nurse into forking over a list of the people down there. Sidney wanted it to write an article, of course, but Emma knew that Mary Margaret would make sure that they got a copy of the information before Sidney ran off with it. Not that Emma didn't trust the reporter—he'd been helpful so far—but she knew that his first priority was writing a good story, not helping people.

"Let's get these doors open," Emma prompted Whale, and the doctor shrugged.

"When the mayor comes looking for blood, I'm sending her in your direction," he said irritably.

"Fine." A thought occurred to Emma, however, before Whale punched the code into the first door on the right. "None of these people are psycho kind of crazy, are they? Dangerous, I mean?"

Whale shook his head, albeit a little reluctantly. "No. They're quiet, mostly. A couple are amnesiacs, don't know who they are. A few are subject to harmless delusions. But none of them are dangerous."

"Then why are they down here?" Emma asked.

"Look, I never asked, okay?"

And wasn't that typical. Emma had been in a lot of small towns over the years, and she had never been in one that was run as oddly as Storybrooke was. Cora seemed to control everything in this place—and who ever heard of some secret asylum-cum-prison buried underneath a hospital? The fact that the asylum existence at all was absolute insanity, and there was no way in hell that no one in the town had never investigated this place before. How could they live with some secret prison right under their noses, a place where the mayor could shove anyone she wanted for however long she wanted? Emma couldn't wrap her mind around it. Out of all the odd things about this town, that stood out the most. There was no way that an entire town's worth of people could miss this.

People disappear in Storybrooke, the anonymous text had said. Someone had noticed. Why had that person waited until Emma was around to say something? This mystery got weirder and weirder by the moment.

In the end, they pulled six people out of stark, padded cells and brought them into the hospital proper. All were in good health, but it would take a while to identify them and try to figure out if they had family in town. Two had no memories at all—they were blank slates who basically knew how to function in the world, but nothing of themselves—three immediately told her stories of having angered Cora and having been wrongfully imprisoned (Michael Tillman was one of those, Emma was rather grateful to see), and the sixth kept talking about needing to find Will Scarlet and how the Evil Queen had taken his heart. That girl, Anastasia, might have actually been a little bit mad, but Emma was starting to really wonder. Nothing made sense, and how would some girl buried under the hospital have known about Henry's fairytale theory?

She made a mental note to ask Henry if there was a Will Scarlet or an Anastasia in the Book, and left the six former prisoners in Whale's capable hands the moment Archie arrived to evaluate them. Sidney was busy trying to interview them, and Mary Margaret had stuck around to help, but Emma had questions that needed answering. Now.

Regina had intentionally distanced herself from Emma's crusade down to the asylum—it was one thing to be involved in searching for the place, but another entirely to tag along on the decidedly illegal trip down there. Like it or not, she remained the mayor's principle assistant, and that meant Regina couldn't afford to do things like that. Someone also had to stay at home to make sure Henry stayed out of it, given how useless David was on that front. The curse had turned her brother-in-law into a bit of a hopeless idiot, easy to manipulate and easier to run circles around. Regina loved the man dearly (Charming, anyway, not David Nolan), but her mother really had done a number on him here. Much like she once had done to her own husband, David Nolan was affable, biddable, and quick to give in.

Besides, he was filling in for Graham's volunteer shift at the animal hospital since the former sheriff was still in the hospital, which meant it was up to Regina to fetch Henry from school and make sure he didn't go running off to 'help' Emma. The last thing they needed was for Henry to do something that would bring Cora's attention to what they were doing. Regina would never forget that Cora had threatened Henry once before, and she couldn't afford to let Cora know that she was working against her. He's not my blood, Cora had said, and remembering those words always sent a chill down Regina's spine. Cora didn't care about Henry. She saw him as a tool to be used to control Regina, nothing more.

The front door slammed open, and Regina's head jerked around to glare at her son.

"I didn't do it!" Henry objected from his seat at the table. He was supposedly doing his homework, but Regina could tell he wasn't concentrating.

"Your father isn't due home until—"

"What the hell is wrong with this town?" Emma Swan demanded, storming into the kitchen. Regina started, blinking in surprise. Then she remembered that she'd foolishly given the Savior a key to her home, and invited her to come by at any time. Which apparently includes when she wants to have a temper tantrum.

"The list is long," she replied dryly.

"Tell me about it." Emma snorted. "How the hell can there be a secret prison that no one knew about? Scratch that. Whale knew. He had the damn combination to the high security lock, and yet he never even thought to ask if any of those people had ever been actually declared insane. Which they hadn't, by the way. There isn't a single record to explain why they're done there, other than that your mother wanted them to be."

Regina couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Would Emma ever embrace the truth? She was still looking for logical answers, whereas Regina knew there were none. "Color me surprised," she muttered.

"That's really helpful," Emma glared.

"We keep telling you what the problem is," Henry pointed out bluntly, looking at his birth mother. "You just don't want to believe us."

"Because no rational person can believe that a small town in Maine is populated by fairy tale characters under a curse," Emma shot back.

"Rational towns don't have secret prisons buried under the hospital," Henry retorted, and Regina choked back a laugh.

"It isn't about rationality," she said before Emma could reply to their son. "And if you think it is, you really haven't been listening."

Emma groaned. "This again?"

"This always, Miss Swan," Regina snapped, her patience stretched to the breaking point. "You don't have to like it to believe it. You don't even have to think that it's logical, because maybe it isn't, or at least not in this world. But reality isn't always logical, and this is real. And like it or not, everyone's depending on you."

"I can't deal with that now. I'm running for sheriff in five days."

Regina wanted to smash her head into the counter, but instead she gritted her teeth and shoved back the urge to shake her niece. I thought Snow could be bad, but Emma has distilled stubbornness down to an art form, she thought irritably. "Fine," she said shortly. "Don't believe. Concentrate on getting elected, because maybe then you'll be able to make a difference."

That got her a skeptical look. "I'm no Savior, Regina. I'm just…me."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point."

If Regina was someone nicer, she would have said something encouraging. Snow certainly would have, but Regina had always been darker than her sister. She'd tried to be a good person, but she didn't always manage, and sometimes the darkness inside her shined through. So, she just met Emma's eyes squarely and dared the younger woman to argue. Emma glared back for a moment, and Regina could see her hackles coming up—but then emotion flashed across Emma's face, and she shrugged.

"You gonna help me get elected or not?" she finally asked.

"Of course I am," Regina replied with a sigh, exchanging a glance with Henry.

Sooner or later, they'd get Emma to believe. But today just wasn't going to be that day.

5 Years Before The Curse

Maybe now King George would let him go home.

News had just reached their kingdom that Princess Snow had killed King Leopold. The missive from Queen Cora had been short and to the point, but no one had to tell David that the engagement was off. Part of him was relieved, even if he didn't actually believe the story. He might have replaced James four months ago and been playing the part of prince ever since, but he didn't fit in here. The only time he'd felt even vaguely like he belonged somewhere other than the farm was when he'd been in Leopold's kingdom, doing his (sort of) adopted father's bidding and attempting to woo a princess. Apparently James hadn't done so well on that front before his accident—if you could call challenging a minotaur to a duel an accident—and George had been very insistent that David do better.

Much to his surprise, he'd rather liked the princess. He'd expected someone stuck up and, well, royal, and instead he'd met a down to earth and nice person.

"You're different this time," Snow said as he led her through the steps of a dance he'd hastily learned just two weeks earlier.

"How so?"

"You're actually a little…charming," she replied, a hint of a smile touching her face.

David almost missed a step, trying to find a neutral answer that wouldn't give the game away. After all, only a handful of George's most trusted advisors knew about the swap, and David had to keep up pretenses in order to keep his mother safe and happy. "Are you saying that I wasn't before?"

"Actually, yes, I am," the princess retorted, twirling effortlessly. She made the dance look so easy, and David would have to be blind not to notice that she was beautiful.

"Maybe I had a change of heart." He tried to shrug casually, but didn't think she believed him at all.

That evening—and the two after it—had been the most amazing time in David's life. For the first time, he'd found himself actually wanting to be the prince King George demanded he be, because there was something amazing about the princess whom people were already calling 'the fairest of them all'. Snow was kind, funny, and there was an undeniable spark in the air between them whenever they were together. David couldn't define exactly what that was, but there was certainly something about Snow White that made him want to get to know her. She was a princess and he was nothing but a dressed-up shepherd, but he wanted to fall in love with her.

When George and Leopold had finally finished ironing out the details of their betrothal two months after that, David had been ecstatic. He didn't like George, and he missed home more than ever, but the thought of marrying Snow wouldn't leave him alone. Even when Queen Cora insisted that no marriage could take place before Snow's twenty-first birthday—which was almost a year away!—David's enthusiasm remained high. George said that he could spend the intervening months learning to act like a real prince and learning to rule, but David would put up with that if it meant he could be with Snow. He'd never believed in love at first sight, but there was something about her that mattered to him.

Apparently it was too perfect, David thought, staring out the window at the night sky. His instincts had told him that he was no fairytale prince who would wed a princess and find True Love, and he should have listened to them. His 'perfect' princess had turned out to be a murderess, and George was already talking about marrying him to King Midas' daughter instead. George was even considering Princess Regina, who was six years older than he was, but apparently now stood to inherit Leopold's kingdom now that Snow was due to be executed. The entire thought sickened David, but—

"Good, you're alone," a voice said from behind him, and David whirled around. The one thing about being a prince that he'd found himself enjoying was swordplay, and his sword came easily to hand as he turned to face the interloper.

It was Regina.

"Well, I was before you barged in," he retorted without thinking, and then blinked, looking at the still-closed door. "How did you get in here?"

"Magic, of course," the princess his (not) father might want him to marry replied with a shrug.

David blinked. "I didn't know you used magic."

"It runs in the family," was her dry response.

"You mean that Snow…?" he asked without meaning to. It didn't matter anymore, but somehow it did.

"No. We're stepsisters, not half siblings. No shared blood," Regina corrected him. Then she shook her head. "But that's not why I'm here. I'm here because Snow needs your help."

David's heart leapt before he could stop it, but he stomped down on the reaction before his feelings could betray him. "I'm not sure that I should be really interested in helping someone who murdered her own father for power."

"Do you really think she'd do that?" the other princess retorted, turning an acidic glare on him.

"I don't know. I barely know her," he pointed out.

"Last I saw the two of you, you were in the middle of falling in love. What changed?"

"Hearing someone is guilty of murder does tend to change things," David replied wryly. Even as he said that, though, he kept thinking about what Regina had said. He knew how close the sisters were. If she didn't believe Snow was guilty, maybe she wasn't. Regina knew Snow better than anyone. Maybe, just maybe…

"Look, if you don't want to help, just say so. I'll do this without you," Regina snapped, starting to turn away. Her pretty face—because no one could deny that both sisters were quite beautiful—was lined with worry, and David could see that her anger stemmed from concern. So he grabbed her arm.

"Wait. No, I didn't mean—I just—this is all coming at me pretty fast, all right?" he tried to explain. "Can you tell me what actually happened? If Snow didn't kill King Leopold, who did?"

"That doesn't matter," was the somewhat evasive answer. "My mother's behind it."

"Why?" David wanted to know. Queen Cora had struck him as a very intelligent and driven woman, and maybe a little bit creepy, but not as someone who would frame her stepdaughter for murder.

"Power. Why else?"

"Your paperwork says your name is Victoria Scadlock," Mary Margaret said as gently as she could, sitting in a booth at Granny's while they sorted through the former prisoners. She was trying to stop the blonde woman from starting in on another rambling denial, but so far was only meeting with limited success. "You are married but separated from Francis Scadlock, the senior editor at the Daily Mirror, and—"

"Give it up, sister," another voice interjected. "She doesn't remember a thing."

Mary Margaret blinked. The man who spoke was utterly familiar. "Leroy?" she asked incredulously.

"Glad to see you remember me," the bald man replied caustically. "Since you and everyone else seemed to forget about me the moment I was stuffed in that asylum for a crime I didn't commit."

"I thought…I thought you left town," she stuttered, shaking her head in confusion. "Everyone thought that."

"Well, everyone was wrong," Leroy retorted, and then grimaced as Archie approached. "Do I really have to do this, Doc? I know I'm not crazy. Though I'm not so sure about the rest of you."

Archie's smile was gentle. "Then it shouldn't take long, should it?"

From across the table from Snow, Victoria Scadlock looked at Archie like he was some sort of dangerous creature. "Who are you?" she demanded. "I've never seen you before." Then she turned back to glare at Mary Margaret. "And my name isn't Victoria. It's Anastasia."

5 Years Before The Curse

She could do this without her mother knowing, Regina told herself. James had agreed to help, and that meant Regina should be able to foist the blame off where it couldn't do any damage. She didn't think that James had discussed the matter with his father, but King George was a practical and ambitious man. He would jump at the opportunity to marry his heir to Snow and claim Leopold's kingdom through her. Midas might have been able to turn anything into gold with a touch, but the kingdom Snow stood to inherit was the largest and most self-sufficient in the entire Enchanted Forest. Combined with George's, it would become an absolute powerhouse. George will think that's worth a little war or two against Mother, Regina thought behind a smile, and if that happens, she'll be distracted enough that I can rescue Daniel!

"Thinking of saving your little stepsister?" a high-pitched voice asked her, and the question as accompanied by an annoying laugh. Turning, Regina looked at the owner of that obnoxious giggle, worry making her heart skip a beat.

"How did you know?" she demanded.

Her teacher waved an airy hand. "I do see the future, you know."

"Then it'll work?" Regina asked desperately, her heart pounding wildly against her ribcage. "Will we succeed?"

"Now that you've recruited her little prince into the game, it will." Reptilian eyes studied her, and Rumplestiltskin's expression went unreadable. "But everything has its price, dear. Are you sure you're willing to pay?"

"She's my sister," Regina replied firmly. "I'll do whatever it takes."

"Ooooh," Rumplestiltskin trilled, his eyes suddenly dancing and his hands twirling excitedly. "Such courage!"

"Stop it," she snapped. "Can you teach me anything that will help, or not?"

She knew better than to ask if he would rescue Snow, or if she could bring her little sister to the Dark Castle for safety afterwards. Rumplestiltskin would remain neutral in this conflict, even if he did so enjoy irking her mother from time to time. He wouldn't take sides. It was up to Regina, but if she could glean a little useful knowledge from him, anything her mother would not expect—and could not detect—she would take what she could get.

The damn imp was studying her again. Contemplatively.

"You know," he said slowly, "I think I have just the thing."

"Congratulations, Miss Swan," a voice said, making Emma look up from her breakfast. "The entire town is talking about you."

"Killian," she said in surprise, taking the folded newspaper that the marina owner was holding out. She hadn't expected the dark-haired man to show up while she was sharing breakfast with Regina, David, and Henry the Saturday before the election, just one day after she, Mary Margaret, and Sidney had barged into the asylum. "What are you doing here?"

"Admiring you, apparently," O'Malley replied with a sultry smile. Emma gave him a hard look before glancing down at the Daily Mirror.

And there it was. Splashed right across the top of the front page as the headline story that Sidney had wanted so badly were the words "SECRET ASYLUM UNEARTHED BY CANDIDATE FOR SHERIFF". Emma had to read the words a few times before she managed to scan the article, the words leaping off the page. To her left, Henry leaned over to read it, too, and Emma could feel the smile radiating off him before she'd even managed to read half of the words.

"Way to go, Emma!" Henry exalted, and even Regina had cracked a smile. Emma had to admit that seeing the article felt damn good—she really did want to win the election, but she wanted to do it the right way. Doing this, freeing six innocent people, really mattered, and as weird as this town was, that still had to count for something. A lot, maybe.

"Henry's right," David said. "I think you've got this election in the bag."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Regina interjected, echoing Emma's thoughts. "Don't count my mother out yet. She's bound to have another trick up her sleeve."

"Ah, Cora's more bark than bite," David replied with a shrug and a smile at his wife. But there was nothing affectionate in the annoyed look Regina shot him.

"That's what you think," she muttered, just as Emma realized that O'Malley was still standing at the end of their table. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Thank you for bringing this to me," she said. "It really is great news."

"It's my pleasure, love," O'Malley replied with a wink. "Perhaps some time we might discuss it in private?"

Emma tried not to scowl. If this was O'Malley's way of trying to invite himself to breakfast with them, it certainly wasn't going to work. She was grateful that he'd brought her the article, and she wasn't blind to his obvious physical charms, but O'Malley would have to do a lot more if he wanted to get into her good graces. Like actually helping, not just waving newspapers in my face, Emma thought. He'd said that he knew people and that he was willing to help her get elected, but so far all Emma had heard from Cyril Call-Me-Killian O'Malley was words.

"Maybe," she replied dryly, giving him a droll look. Pretty face or not, Emma really didn't like a man whose first attempt to come onto her had started when she'd been visiting the bedside of the last man she'd dated. Maybe there was nothing serious between her and Graham, but until she could get that damn restraining order lifted, there was no way to know.

Fortunately, Killian seemed smart enough to get the hint, and left the diner before Regina said something obnoxious to him. Judging from the look on her face—and from the placating expression David was wearing—Regina had been warming up to do just that, and Emma found herself rather grateful for the older woman at the moment. Henry seemed to think that Regina was her aunt, and although Henry's theory had to be absolutely bogus, Emma thought she might have liked to have an aunt like Regina. Or family, anyway. It would be nice to have family.

Their relationship had returned to quiet looks and subtle touches, sneaking glances when no one was looking and trying to pretend they meant nothing to one another. Rumplestiltskin knew it was foolish—staying away from Belle was the only way to keep her and Gabi safe—but he couldn't help himself. He was such a weak man, so desperate and so needy, and Lacey was Belle save in one or two ways that mattered. She was brave, bold, and she'd loved Gold even when she should not. Lacey had been the only thing that kept Gold sane through all those years with Cora, the only bright spot in an otherwise dark world. She was so much like Belle, except quieter and so much more easily cowed…but who wasn't, in Cora's Storybrooke? She had not wanted to make people strong enough to resist her.

And even when that option existed, doing so was never a good idea, as Rumplestiltskin's previous evening had proved. Fortunately for him, Cora had actually let him go that Sunday morning instead of forcing him to stay longer, but she'd left him with more aches and pains than he wanted to think about, and several reminders he was steadfastly not thinking about. He was still shaking when he made it home, and hesitated for several long moments before cautiously sinking onto his couch and pouring himself a glass of scotch. The drink did nothing to steady him, but he wasn't in any shape to climb the stairs right now, no matter how much he wanted to wash away Cora's touch. But he resisted the urge to pour himself another at ten o'clock on a Sunday morning.

Pressure points. Not his, but the curse's. They could both feel it happening, could sense what Emma Swan's discovery under the hospital was doing. The curse was weakening, and Rumplestiltskin had felt the victory inherent in that—after all, he had pointed the Savior in that direction with that tiny little text message—until Cora had torn him down off that high with a nightmare of pain and humiliation. She'd gone further than ever before, left him hurting and reeling and so very ready to curl up and cry. Rumplestiltskin had tried to cling to his pride and self-control, but Cora had stripped that away, too, leaving him shaking and shuddering and pleading until she had gagged him. He was a wreck, as bad as Gold had ever been, desperate to find some way to overcome his own humanity.

Finally, trembling fingers pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number almost without thinking. Lacey answered on the second ring.

"Gold?" she asked, sounding surprised. "I thought you said you weren't going to call."

"I just needed to hear your voice," he admitted, his voice cracking and hating himself for the weakness, hating needing so badly and hurting so much. He was so damn lonely, and he wanted his family, needed someone to be there to tell him that he didn't have to face this by himself. He'd been a hair's breath away from using his own caveat to put a stop to the previous evening's activities, a heartbeat away from letting Cora know he was awake. But he didn't dare. Doing that could put everything in jeopardy, and Rumplestiltskin would not sacrifice his chance to find his son just because he was in a little pain.

Or a lot.

"You sound terrible," Lacey said softly.

Rumplestiltskin snorted. "I think I am."

"I'm coming over," she replied immediately, not bothering with inane questions or silly reassurances. "Just let me—"

"No," he cut her off, forcing himself to take a deep breath. "Sweetheart, you can't. I'll be all right. I just needed…I just needed to talk to you. That's all."

"Gold—"

"No."

"I know you're convinced that she can hurt me, but she's only the mayor. She's not that powerful, and I'll take that risk," Lacey said stubbornly, sounding more like Belle than ever before. "You're worth fighting for. I'll chance it."

Oh, he loved this woman. Her words were almost enough to make him tell her to come over, to throw caution to the wind, and to—

No, Rumplestiltskin told himself firmly. You can't. You can't endanger her, no matter how badly you need her. Gabrielle needs her more than you do, and if Cora knew… The thought made him shiver. And his fear of that was stronger than the fear of what Cora's caveats could let her do to him, stronger than the maelstrom of terror and pain still whipping through him. He had never been strong, but he could choose love over fear.

"I won't chance it," Rumplestiltskin managed to say firmly. "Stay away from me. Keep yourself—and Renee—safe. Please. I'll go. I just had to talk to you."

"Don't—"

"I love you." He hung up before he could hear her reply, before he could listen to Lacey try to wrap her mind around the fact that Gold had never, not once, said those words to her. But Rumplestiltskin needed to say it, and he needed her to know. Lacey wasn't Belle…but he loved her anyway. And their daughter.

He had to keep them safe.

A/N: Thank you again to all my lovely readers! I'm going to be a NaNoWriMo Rebel this year and continue this story instead of starting something new, so feel free to cheer me on if you want. Kudos to everyone who guessed that Michael Tillman and Anastasia were in the asylum! The other three people who were down there may eventually come up, but right now they're not as important as the three who were named.

Stay tuned for Chapter Nineteen: "Love and Family", in which Cora issues a terrifying threat, elections for sheriff commence, Lacey runs into her father, and Hook tries to seduce Emma. Back in the past, Regina and David go to rescue Snow and Rumplestiltskin pays his father-in-law a visit.

Oh, and did you catch Zelena's cameo?