Chapter Twenty-Two—"True Love Wins Out"

Seeing through the smoke was almost impossible.

Lacey hadn't expected it to be this bad when she'd come out of the elevator, but the entire interior of the library was dark with thick smoke, black in patches but now mostly grayish white. Everything she could see was bathed in a hellish red-orange glow; flames danced on the ceilings and engulfed the bookshelves to her left. The circulation desk was one of the few things not burning, but Lacey knew it would go up soon, too. Like almost everything else in the library, the desk was wood, and the smell of burning wood already filled the air to bursting. Coughing, she slammed the elevator doors shut behind herself, hoping that too much smoke hadn't gotten in already and forcing herself not to send one last look her daughter's way.

There wasn't time. She was already having a hard time breathing, and Lacey knew that if she hesitated at all, she'd probably black out. So, she fumbled desperately for the elevator's controls, blinking stinging tears out of her eyes. Seeing the controls was hard, and there was no time for second chances. She had to get this right on the first try.

Crash!

Her hands were on the buttons, but the sudden noise startled her into turning. Coughing hard enough to shake her entire body, Lacey blinked soot and smoke out of her eyes as fresh air suddenly streamed into the library, making the flames to her left roar even higher. She flinched away and stumbled, only to be caught by a strong set of hands.

"Lacey!" a familiar voice shouted, but it took her smoke-addled brain a moment to realize that it belonged to Errol Forrester, whose son was only a year older than Renee. He was wrapped in blanket of some sort, which he promptly extended to cover her as well. "Where are the kids?"

"In"—cough—"here!" She didn't bother to try to explain, and instead rushed to open the elevator doors one more time, relief making her hands shake. Breathing was hard, so hard, but they were so close to rescue and she would not give up now.

Henry and Renee were huddled in the back, both coughing in the smoke and crouched as low as they could get. Both looked at the adults with wide and terrified eyes, but Henry was still holding onto Renee and not letting the younger girl touch the hot floor.

"Come on!" Errol shouted, reaching out a hand. Henry bolted forward immediately, stumbling straight into Lacey's arms. She grabbed Renee from him as Errol picked the boy up, and they turned for the door together. When they were a few feet away, the firefighter ordered: "Stay down!"

Lacey let Errol shove her down, still coughing. Henry huddled against her under the blanket and Renee held on tight, but she was able to make out Errol's form as he attacked the door from the inside with the baseball bat he'd brought in with him. It had to be burning his hands—it was a metal bat, not a wooden one—but he gave no sign of pain. One powerful swing came after another; he was aiming for the weak point between the doors, aiming to smash the lock out before they all burned to death or died of smoke inhalation. Logically, Lacey knew that only seconds had passed since Errol had burst into the library, but they were running out of time.

Regina spotted her mother talking to that odious pirate and strode that way before she remembered she was holding an innocent child in her arms. Once she'd thought of Jamie, however, it didn't matter. He was only four, and he wouldn't remember a thing she said or make sense of it, anyway. But Errol was still inside the burning library, and so was Henry, and Regina wanted to kill her mother on the spot.

"This is your doing, isn't it?" she hissed as the pirate backed off hastily, clearly wanting nothing to do with their conversation. He was one of her mother's flunkies here—Cora might have even had his heart, for all Regina knew—but obviously was smart enough to know when he wasn't wanted.

"This tragedy? Of course not, darling," Cora replied, and the very innocence in her reply made Regina want to spit fire. Cora cocked her head. "And who is this little darling you have with you?"

"Jamie Forrester," she snarled, shifting her grip on the boy. Jamie waved friendlily at Cora, oblivious to the anger swirling around him. "His father is in there trying to rescue Henry!"

"Oh, no. Henry is inside?"

Her mother had never been a terribly good actor, but Regina didn't think she was even trying at the moment. Her expression barely even changed, and although her voice registered horror, she could see the calculating gleam in Cora's eyes. They met Regina's own levelly enough, and Regina did not have to be a mind reader to see the warning there. Or rather, the I-told-you-what-would-happen look, the one that told Regina how her mother had no problems trying to kill her adopted son. Regina was so angry that she wanted to cry, wanted to gouge her mother's eyes out, and wanted to start a magical battle right here in the middle of the street.

Of course, not having magic was a severe handicap on that front, but Regina was damn close to slugging her mother to compensate. Worry, however, won over anger. The sirens were getting louder, but Regina knew that even as the fire truck skidded to a halt in front of the crowd, that it was too late. She wanted to be sick.

"You know he is!" she hissed, hating the tiny smile on her mother's face.

"Look!" Jamie piped up before Cora could respond, and both women spun to look as the doors to the library suddenly burst open.

Smoke billowed out, but Regina didn't even notice that as she rushed forward. Because there they were, four forms buried underneath a burning blanket. The big, burly firefighter who'd just jumped off the truck rushed over to pull the blanket off of the quartet, and Regina's knees went weak when she saw Errol Forrester carrying her son in his arms. Lacey French stumbled along next to him, her own little girl cradled close to her chest, but in that moment, Regina had never seen anything more beautiful than the firefighter who had saved her son.

Fifteen minutes later, Lacey was starting to feel vaguely human again. Her vision was starting to clear, and Renee was snuggled up closely to her side. They both sat on one stretcher behind the ambulance while Henry sat on another, with all three wearing oxygen masks to try to help them fight the effects of smoke inhalation. They were all covered in soot despite the paramedics' best efforts to clean them off, but Lacey didn't care. They were safe. Regina and David Nolan were there, too, both crowding around Henry as the boy tried to tell them that he was fine, along with Emma Swan who looked just as worried but a little out of place. Little Jamie Forrester had climbed up on the stretcher next to Henry while his father directed the firefighting efforts, and the ten year old seemed to be weathering the attention just fine, despite his smoke-stained clothes and tired grin.

A pang of jealousy hit Lacey as she looked down at her daughter, and for a moment, she wondered what it would be like to have family and friends surround her like that. She'd always told herself that she didn't need more than Renee, but right now it would have been really nice to have someone to lean on. To not have to be the strong one, just for once.

"How are you doing?" a voice asked, and Lacey turned her head to look at the new sheriff as Emma approached her stretcher.

"We're okay," she said, pulling the mask off with a cough. "Or we will be, anyway."

Renee had stopped crying a few minutes ago, and she now looked up at the sheriff with wide brown eyes as Lacey rubbed her back. Slowly, the little girl crawled into her mother's lap, and Lacey just wrapped her arms around her tightly, turning to watch the flames engulfing her workplace…and her home.

"That's, uh, good," Emma said awkwardly, clearly following Lacey's eyes. "Look, I just talked to Granny. She said that there's a room open for you for as long as you need it, since I gather that your relationship with your father isn't all that great."

"No, it isn't," Lacey replied quietly. She'd spotted Moe French in the crowd a few minutes earlier, but he'd made no move to approach her. In fact, the only person who had said a word to her other than the paramedics and the sheriff had been Regina Nolan, and she'd been understandably distracted by her own child.

"Mary Margaret headed home to grab some of our stuff for you, too," Emma continued, and Lacey felt a real smile cross her face. Pretty much everything she owned had to be burned up by now; they had the fire under control, but the library was all but gone. She was certain that her little apartment was destroyed, too. "And since the library is town property, I'm sure that the town will pay for—"

"Not when the fire was undoubtedly caused by Miss French's negligence, the town won't," a new voice cut in, and Lacey turned to look at the mayor, her stomach rolling with loss and grief.

"What?" Emma snapped.

"There will be an investigation, but I think we all know what that will turn up," Cora Mills continued, sending a poisonous smile Lacey's way. "Such a terrible fire was probably caused by Miss French's continued inattention to her…child, and I'm not paying a cent out for their care unless someone can prove otherwise."

"Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?" the sheriff demanded.

"That's only in legal cases, Sheriff. This is an administrative matter," Cora countered, and Lacey felt like a ping pong ball bouncing between the pair of them.

"That's horseshit!"

"Bad word," Renee muttered against Lacey's chest, and a sad, broken laugh wormed its way out of Lacey as Emma looked down in horror.

"Sorry," the sheriff said, cringing.

The mayor, however, just snorted. "Be it as it may, Miss Swan, you have no standing in this matter. The fire department and the D.A. will conduct the investigation, not you. So your feelings on the matter are not my concern."

"This isn't right," Emma shot back, but Lacey was already doing the math in her head when Cora shrugged.

"It's all right, Emma," she said softly, knowing that fighting with the mayor on this was useless. Cora could keep the town from paying Lacey a cent, even though part of her employment contract stated that the town would insure her belongings against fire, flooding, or building damage. For the first time, Lacey really understood what Gold had meant when he referred to Cora's power…and she knew that arguing this point would only make things worse. Hopefully, the investigation would prove her innocent, and she could get the money afterwards. "I have some money saved up."

Not nearly enough, she knew. She would have to find another job, and fast, not to mention a place to live. Even if Granny was nice enough to give her a discount on account of being Ruby's friend, staying at the bed and breakfast would be expensive to do long term.

"Well, that's good to hear," Cora said with false sweetness. "Because we both know that your father won't take you back."

"My problems with my father are none of your business, Madam Mayor," Lacey snapped before she could stop herself. She didn't know what had caused the fire—aside from being certain that it wasn't Renee's fault—but her nerves were stretched to the breaking point, and Lacey was through putting up with Cora's nastiness. "So unless you have something helpful to add, why don't you go torment someone else?"

Fury immediately filled Cora's eyes, but Emma snickered all too openly, drawing some of the mayor's ire her way. Unfortunately, there was plenty of it to go around, and Cora's lips curled up into another nasty smile.

"With an attitude like that, it's a wonder that child services hasn't taken your brat away yet," the mayor purred acidly. Then her glare turned on Emma. "Although it's no wonder why you had to give Henry up."

With that parting shot, Cora strode off, her head high and expression self-satisfied. Lacey glared after her, but it was Emma who said:

"What a—uh, cranky woman." The sheriff glanced guiltily down at Renee, but Renee just smiled at her, not noticing the pause as Emma reconfigured what she was going to say for the three year old's benefit.

"Yeah," Lacey agreed quietly, and then forced a smile. "Look, we'll be all right. You go check on Henry. He needs you, too."

Henry idolized Emma, Lacey knew. He loved both of his adopted parents, but his birth mother had become his hero, and the last thing Henry needed was for Emma to be fawning over Lacey and Renee right now. The boy had been unbelievably brave during the fire, but he was only ten years old, and he needed his mother right now. Both of them. Emma, however, still looked uncertain.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah. We'll go get that room at Granny's, so it won't be like we'll be hard to find," Lacey promised. "Go on. He was really brave today, and you should be proud of him."

"I am," Emma replied immediately, and Lacey liked the way the sheriff's face softened as she looked Henry's way.

"Then go," she told the blonde woman, and watched Emma go rejoin the family circle—fortunately free of Cora—around Henry. Henry beamed upon seeing his birth mother approach, and Lacey watched the boy start excitedly telling Emma about his experiences in the fire. Watching the pair of them made that horrible feeling of envy rear its head again, and Lacey swallowed back her loneliness. She had a beautiful daughter and they were alive. What more could she ask for?

Regina watched the firefighters as Henry regaled David and Emma with the story of how brave Miss French had been ready to die to save him and her daughter. She'd heard it already, from both Errol and Henry both, and made a mental note to thank the mousy little librarian. Who had Lacey French been back in their world? Regina had never noticed her before, but she must have possessed impressive courage back there, otherwise it would have not have shone through the curse like this. That, however, could wait for later. There was someone else she wanted to thank so much more, someone who already made her battered heart skip a beat every time she looked at him. Regina had told herself that she needed to avoid Errol Forrester for that very reason; she couldn't afford romantic entanglements now, not with the end of the curse approaching and certainly not without attracting her mother's fatal attention. But now she burned to know who Errol was, needed to know the man who had saved her son.

He'd stepped out of the fire like he rushed into burning buildings every day, and then smoothly taken command of the firefighting efforts. His team managed to save the surrounding buildings, too, although the library itself was utterly finished. Regina tried to watch without anyone noticing, which was fairly easy given how everyone was staring at the intrepid firefighters, but she couldn't ignore how damn heroic Errol looked out there. Whoever he'd been, he'd definitely been the hero type. Had Regina been her mother, she'd have been hoping that he was a prince or a king, but she found herself not caring. She'd fallen in love with a stableboy once. What did it matter who Errol had been?

Love. The Dark Princess who her mother had forced her to be would scoff at the notion, but Regina knew that flutter in her heart way too well. It wasn't real, not yet—real love had to be fought for—but it was possible. And she wanted that more terribly than she'd ever been able to express.

"Henry, honey, I'm so glad to see you're all right," a voice intruded on her thoughts, and Regina whirled to face her mother, unable to stop herself from glaring.

Thankfully, her son was more tactful, as well as being blissfully unaware that his grandmother had probably been trying to kill him. "Thanks, Grandma."

"Well, we were all terribly worried about you, weren't we, Regina?" Cora turned on her with a smile, and if Regina could have murdered her mother right there, she would have done it.

"Of course we were, Mother," she grated out.

Was Regina the only one who saw the malicious sparkle in her mother's eyes as Cora reached out to stroke Henry's hair? No, she wasn't; Emma's eyes narrowed, too, and she glanced at Regina as if wanting permission to tell the Evil Queen what to do with herself. If only I could grant it! But Regina was perfectly capable of taking a warning to heart. She would have to be much more careful from here on out; Cora's attempt to hurt Henry might have been foiled, but she wouldn't put it past her mother to try again. Regina was furious, not stupid.

"Well, then, why don't we all head home?" Cora said sweetly. "I think a celebratory dinner is in order, and Chef Anderson is preparing your favorites, Henry."

"Okay," Henry agreed uneasily, glancing at his mother as if he was finally picking up on her undercurrent of anger. But Regina forced a smile for him.

"That's lovely of you," she told her mother, wanting to choke on the words.

Cora smiled maternally at her before turning a razor-sharp glare Emma's way. "Not you, Miss Swan. This is for family only."

He was…relieved. There was no other word for the emotion coursing through Killian, and he didn't even think that he minded that feeling at all. He hadn't been overly fond of the idea of setting a fire in the first place, and the idea of burning two innocent children up in there—even if one of those children was the daughter of the Dark One's lover—left the pirate feeling more than a little sick. He wouldn't have minded too much if Lacey French had burned, even if his conscience did whisper that the girl had never done anything to him. She even smiled at his flirting the few times he came by the library, and had she not been such a conscientious mother, he'd probably have thrown a line or two in that direction himself in the past. He'd always admired her a little bit, and if Cora hadn't told him what she meant to Gold…well, Killian might very well have liked her.

On one hand, he felt that anyone who jumped into bed with the Dark One, cursed or no, deserved what they got. On the other, Kilian was no fool, and he wouldn't put it past Cora to have given Gold someone to care about. The demon was a cold blooded bastard in both worlds, but Killian had seen the stark horror on his face when he'd seen the library burning and had known that the woman he—not loved, because even while cursed, Killian wasn't sure Gold was capable of love—liked, or was at least sleeping with, was inside. Killian well remembered that feeling of the world dropping out from under your feet, remembered knowing that an evil force of nature was about to ruin your world and there wasn't a bloody thing you could do about it. And for a moment, he actually pitied the man.

Then he remembered Milah, remembered that Gold was not Rumplestiltskin, and decided that he'd save his pity for Lacey and her cute little girl. Fortunately, the chief firefighter had decided to play hero, and Killian promised himself he'd join the rest of the town in buying Forrester drinks until the man bled whiskey from his ears. Whoever Errol had been, the man was a damn hero now, and he deserved every accolade he got. Particularly for saving the Nolan boy. Emma would be devastated if anything happened to him, Killian knew, and then wondered when he'd started thinking of the blonde sheriff as 'Emma'. He was attracted to her in a physical sense, but she was supposed to be a job. A mark, if you would. Not a person to get emotionally involved with.

Whatever she was, he was glad her boy was safe. Henry. He seemed like a good lad, and Killian had nothing against Regina, either. Or even against the fool prince who didn't know he was the boy's grandfather. He wasn't sure what had possessed Cora to try to kill her own adopted grandson—and was sure that he didn't want to poke that sleeping dragon—but Killian was glad she'd failed.

And very glad she hadn't turned him into a child killer twice over while she was at it.

4 ½ Years Before the Curse

"Why didn't you kill him?" Belle asked as the horseless carriage rattled its way back towards the Dark Castle.

Rumplestiltskin jerked up short, turning to face her with an expression that said he utterly did not comprehend her question. Sighing, Belle crossed her arms and stared at her employer until he finally said:

"Whatever do you ask that for, dearie? You should just be happy that I didn't," he shot back with that irritating laugh of his.

"I am happy," she retorted. "But that doesn't mean that I don't want to know why."

Belle had known he was lonely. She had known that for a while now, and had seen glimmers of the man hiding underneath the monster that Rumplestiltskin always reminded her he was. She was slowly getting to know him, rough edges and all, and Belle firmly believed that there was goodness buried deep within him, despite that darkness that festered inside him. Belle had always believed in being honest with herself, and she knew that she was starting to develop…feelings for Rumplestiltskin. There was so much about him that drew her in, that made her laugh and made her happy. It wasn't rational, and it didn't make sense, but Belle didn't care.

Still, she had to know. She needed to know if there really was any good left in Rumplestiltskin before she let herself fall for him.

"I…the arrow simply missed," he lied, and Belle snickered.

"I thought that bow never missed?" His grumble was audible, and Belle bounced forward to sit next to him, wrapping her hands around his arm and smiling up at him. "I think you didn't want to leave a child without a father."

Rumplestiltskin scowled, but Belle continued to smile. "Oh, read your book or something," he snapped.

"Later," she replied sunnily. "You're not as scary as you think you are, you know."

"You have no idea how scary I am, dearie." Another nasty giggle came as he pulled away, but Belle saw no actual ire in his glare, and she just continued to smile . He really wasn't as dark as he thought he was, and that warmed her heart.

The type of town Storybrooke was became so very apparent when the fire died down, the ambulances drove away, and the crowd left. The sun was going down by then, and no one seemed to pay attention to Lacey or Renee French as they headed slowly towards Granny's, walking quietly along the now-deserted streets. Behind them, the library lay in shambles, along with all of their belongings. Mother and daughter both still wore smoke-blackened clothing and looked more than a little worse for the wear, but no one stayed to see if they were all right, not even Moe French, who should have cared more than anyone else.

Or more than almost anyone else.

Gold had gone to great lengths to keep his relationship with Lacey a secret from Cora, even when doing so risked breaking her heart. He kept his distance when Lacey needed him, stood and watched another man rescue her in silence, and remained in the shop while the furor died down. He wanted to go to her, more than anything, but he didn't dare. Not with Cora standing there watching everything. Even when Cora left, however, he lingered on the sidelines, telling himself that it was safer for both of them if he stayed away. But now, watching Lacey head towards Granny's by herself, lonely and oh so brave, forcing herself to face a terrifying and friendless future…he couldn't do it. Rumplestiltskin just couldn't.

So, he pulled his Cadillac up next to her, rolling the car to a stop as she turned to see who it was. Rumplestiltskin rolled down the window, swallowing hard as he looked at the smoke-stained face of his True Love. Of his wife.

"Get in the car, sweetheart," he said softly. "I'm taking you home."

Wide blue eyes stared at him until Gabrielle—Renee!—asked innocently: "Gold?"

"Yeah." A smile tugged at his lips; how had he managed to avoid his daughter for this long? Oh, he could tell himself all day long that it was to keep them both safe, but just seeing her made his heart beat a little faster, made his darkened soul just a little bit lighter. Leaning across the car, he opened the passenger door for them. "Get in."

Lacey did, shifting Renee into the spot between them as the little girl smiled, all teeth and Baelfire's brown eyes. "I thought you said…"

"I was wrong," Rumplestiltskin said as she closed the door and buckled in. His smile turned crooked. "I was a fool."

"I understand," Lacey replied softly. "I think."

"Home?" Renee echoed as he put the car into drive, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Rumplestiltskin looked down as he stopped the car at a stop sign, smiling at the cursed little girl who did not know she was his daughter. "Would you like that? To come to my house?"

Renee looked thoughtful for a long moment, and then she nodded very solemnly. "Okay."

Rumplestiltskin felt a smile tug at his lips, and without thinking, he looked up at Lacey to see her staring at him with such naked need and sorrow that it broke his heart. He couldn't keep doing this to her. Lacey deserved better, and even if he'd always been a coward, he had loved Belle from almost the beginning. And Gold had loved Lacey to the point of distraction, beyond logic and certainly far beyond caution. True Love wins out every time, I suppose, Rumplestiltskin thought to himself, reaching out for Lacey's hand.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "But it will be different now. I promise."

And when Lacey smiled Belle's smile like that, he could almost believe himself.

3 Years Before the Curse

Their child had come into the world without the benefit of a midwife and with only her father's magic to keep her safe and healthy, but Gabrielle appeared with a bang, wailing as any healthy babe should and proving right away that she had her mother's sprit. Now she was sleeping in her mother's arms, wrapped in a blue blanket that Rumplestiltskin had expected to match her eyes...which had turned out to be, much to his surprise, a warm brown color that reminded him almost painfully of Baelfire. Or of himself, long ago, if he wanted to indulge in a bit of honesty.

"I think she's out," Belle said, smiling tiredly.

"I do think so," he agreed softly, leaning over to kiss his wife on the forehead. Belle still lay in their bed with Gabrielle in her arms, but Rumplestiltskin was on top of the covers next to her, now, staring in amazement at the perfect little child he and Belle had someone created. She'll look like her mother, he thought with no small amount of satisfaction. He'd Seen that much, although Rumplestiltskin always had a hard time Seeing into his own future or that of those closest to him.

"She's so beautiful," Belle whispered.

"She'll look like you," Rumplestiltskin replied, and then laughed lightly. "And a good thing that is, too. We'd not want her looking like this."

He indicated his own scaly form with a sweep of one hand, but his wife turned her head to smile at him, grabbing that hand before Rumplestiltskin could say something else derogatory about himself. "I would have loved her no matter what she looked like. Just like I love you."

"I don't deserve you," he whispered, kissing the hand that still held his.

"It's not about deserving," Belle replied seriously. "It's about love, and I love you, Rumplestiltskin. For all eternity."

"And I love you, Belle." The warmth spreading inside him was almost enough to silence even his curse and Rumplestiltskin felt like there might never be a moment so perfect as this one, lying quietly with his wife and his daughter, knowing that he could love them and be loved. "No matter what."

"We don't have any things," Lacey said worriedly as Rumplestiltskin led her and Renee into the house.

He smiled slightly, already thinking of the things he needed to move to childproof the antique-ridden house that the curse had given him. Rumplestiltskin didn't give a damn about most of those belongings, but he didn't want Gabrielle—Renee!—hurting herself. Fortunately, the three year old was tired enough right now that she probably wouldn't be too grabby. Tomorrow, of course, would be another matter, but he figured that he could fix things in the meantime. "Don't worry about that," he reassured her. "What's mine is yours, and I'll call Dove and have him do a quick shopping trip for any necessities you might need."

"Thank you," was her soft reply, and he gave her a smile.

Besides, it wasn't like Lacey hadn't spent a night or two at his house; she had shampoo, soap, and a change of clothes or two there from the days before he'd woken up. Gabrielle would be a little more difficult to clothe, but thankfully the giant pink house had a washing machine, and Dove had a girlfriend. Gold had forgotten her name frequently, but Rumplestiltskin knew who she actually was, and he'd be sure to mention to Dove that he should take his lady friend along to go shopping for Lacey and a three year old.

"Now," Rumplestiltskin said, pulling his mind to the present and away from plans he could make later, "let's get this little lady settled in, shall we?"

"Where?" Renee wanted to know, and Rumplestiltskin glanced at Lacey.

"For now, let's try the couch. I think I get the Disney channel," he told them both, knowing from experience that putting a Disney movie on was the quickest way to distract Renee. She was still too young to understand most of them, but she liked the songs and the pretty colors. And Rumplestiltskin needed a chance to talk to Lacey alone, which thankfully she seemed to sense.

Together, they got Renee settled in on the couch in front of the television. Gold never watched a lot of TV, but he had apparently bought the entire cable package under the curse, for which Rumplestiltskin was currently grateful. Soon enough, Renee was engrossed in The Little Mermaid, freeing her parents up to talk. Not that both of them knew that they were in this together…but Rumplestiltskin knew he had to change that, so he took Lacey gently by the arm and led her into the kitchen. From there, they could keep an eye on the sleepy and stressed three year old, but the chances of Renee overhearing them was slim.

"Gold, I need to understand what's going on," Lacey said before he could get a word in. She looked so sad and so broken, but she forged on bravely. "I know you wanted to stay away from us to keep us safe from Cora, and I'm really starting to understand why, but won't this ruin all of that?"

"It will, but—"

"Then why are we here?" she cut him off. "I have money. We could have stayed at Granny's until I get another job."

If her voice cracked on the last sentence, it was clear that Lacey was determined not to show that. She just stared at him stubbornly, and Rumplestiltskin reached out without even meaning to, leaving his cane balanced against the counter so that he could touch one hand to her cheek and the other to take both of her hands in his.

"Because I can't do this anymore," he answered honestly. "Because I can't leave you to struggle on your own when I can take care of you. I love you, and I won't abandon you when you need me."

"Gold…"

Seeing tears in her eyes broke him into little tiny pieces, so Rumplestiltskin leaned in to kiss her, pouring all of his love and hope and need into the kiss. There was scant little magic in this land aside from the curse, but there was one thing powerful enough to transcend realms. That was the kiss they were denied back home, the one way in which they could never demonstrate their love for one another, the power that had surged through Rumplestiltskin but he could never quite embrace. But here his curse was powerless and trapped, and he did not care what it might do to his magic—even though he knew, intellectually, that it would not harm his powers, not in this land.

Long ago, he had placed a second drop of True Love on the parchment for the Dark Curse, preparing for this very moment. Rumplestiltskin had never been quite sure that it would work; even though he placed an extra line in the curse itself to allow love to exist—so that the caster could deny it, Cora would assume—but now he knew it would. Had Gold and Lacey not fallen in love with one another, he would never have been able to wake Belle up, but Gold had loved Lacey with all of his guarded heart. And Lacey loved him back; that was plain from the way she wrapped her arms tightly around him and held on for dear life. A few short, blissful seconds passed before the power rolled through him, strong and pure and light, powerful enough to make Rumplestiltskin's curse screech in terror and retreat beneath the human he still was deep inside.

Breathless, they pulled apart, and he looked into huge blue eyes that he knew so very well, seeing recognition dawn in them for the first time in twenty-eight years.

"Rumple?" Belle asked hopefully, and, heart soaring, he kissed her again.

A/N: Stay tuned for Chapter Twenty-Three: "Coming Home," in which Emma is sick of Keith's shenanigans, Belle and Rumplestiltskin have a long overdue talk, and Regina seeks Errol out. Back in the past, we find out what happened to Marian.