Chapter Forty-Six—"Unexpected Associations"
The nice thing about cold winter weather was that no one really wandered around by the docks or the beach. That gave Regina and Errol somewhere private to meet that was also innocent; after all, who in their right mind would plan a romantic rendezvous down by the water when it was less than thirty degrees out? And today was unseasonably warm, too, Regina thought with a smile. Errol had come up with the idea, but Regina had thought it brilliant. She was willing to suffer through a bit of cold to spend time with the man whom she was quickly falling for, and she was just glad that he wanted to spend time with her as much as she wanted to spend time with him.
"So, how's Henry doing with the new teacher?" Errol asked after they finished talking about Roland's recent adventures in preschool.
Regina sighed. "He doesn't like her as much as he liked Mary Margaret. The whole class seems to miss her now that the murder rumors have died down."
"I always thought she was too nice of a person to be in any way responsible for that, but it's amazing what the rumor mill will whip up," he replied. "Particularly that Scadlock. It seems like he'll say anything, so long as it'll sell papers."
"Honestly, I think my mother is more at fault than Scadlock," she said, wondering how Errol would take that. After all, if he was going to get involved with her, he needed to be warned, and although Regina was terrified of scaring him away with the full truth, she thought that easing him into things might be better. "She's always hated Sn—Mary Margaret."
"Why? I've never met a kinder and gentler woman than Ms. Blanchard."
"It has something to do with hating Mary Margaret's mother," Regina answered as honestly as she could. You see, Mother cast a terrible curse to punish my sister, killing my—
"What was that?" Errol's sudden question cut her thoughts off, and Regina glanced at him in confusion.
"What was what?"
"Did you hear that?" the firefighter asked, but Regina immediately wondered if it was the outlaw and the tracker in him that was noticing things that others did not. The weaker the curse became, the more the real residents of Storybrooke would emerge. Was it possible that she was now talking to Robin Hood more than Errol Forrester? She hoped so.
"I didn't hear anything," she said, straining her ears.
The wind coming up across the docks was plenty loud, but after a moment, Regina thought she heard a human cry echoing down from No. 1 Road, drifting in their direction from the north. Of course, it could have just been a drunk yelling in front of the Rabbit Hole, but the bar was a good block away and a little to the west. Sound didn't usually carry that far in Storybrooke, and it was obvious from the look on Errol's face that he was thinking the same thing.
"C'mon," he said, grabbing her by the arm and hurrying up No. 1 Road.
They passed the apartment building on their right as they moved north, but most of the residents seemed to have their apartments buttoned up tight against the wind and the threats of a January snow. The overgrown flower shop was to the left, and Regina thought she saw the door closing as they passed, but she couldn't be sure. She was too busy sniffing out a faint scent in the air that she knew she recognized from somewhere. Errol led her around a parked car—Tony Rose's mustang, she thought—and then suddenly they both stopped cold.
There was a black-clad figure sprawled on the street in front of the parking garage, lying in a pool of blood, broken glass, and yellow roses.
"Good heavens," Errol whispered, and the pair rushed forward without a further word.
"Call an ambulance!" Regina snapped, reaching the prone figure first and realizing with a sinking feeling who it had to be. She knew that hair, even if she'd never seen it before coming to Storybrooke, and as she carefully rolled the body over, she recognized the bloody and bruised face. Frantically, she checked for a pulse, and found one, thready and weak though it was.
"This is Errol Forrester. We need an ambulance near…12311 Number One Road," she distantly heard her companion say into his phone, his voice clipped and cool under pressure. "Send the sheriff, also. Someone's been attacked."
"Rumple?" Regina whispered as Errol answered the dispatcher's questions. The only response she received was a pained moan; Rumplestiltskin's eyes were shut and his face terrifyingly pale. "Don't you die on me now, you bastard. I need your help. I need you."
He was one of the few friends she had, after all, that she'd never betrayed. Rumplestiltskin had taught her, understood her, and stood by her even at her worst, and Regina was not about to let him die. Not like this. Swallowing back her worry—because he hadn't answered, hadn't done anything but moan, and he looked like hell. Regina didn't know much about medicine; everything she'd ever learned about healing included magic, but she knew enough to know that Rumplestiltskin needed help fast. Holding her old friend in her arms, she twisted to look at Errol, shouting desperately:
"Tell them to hurry!"
Belle was really starting to get worried when her cell phone rang. It wasn't like Rumple to be late, or at least not without calling. It was nearly eight P.M., and her husband had promised her at lunch that he'd be home by six. I hope Cora hasn't forced him to go to her house again, she thought, feeling cold. Rumplestiltskin had told Belle what happened after he'd let Cora know he was awake, and she'd seen the horrific damage that the mayor had done to him the night after that. Rumple hadn't gone into details, but he'd been shaky and closed off when he got home, and the session after that one had been even worse. He wasn't in any shape to survive another one of those, not just two days after the last, and relief made her hands shake as she grabbed for her cell phone.
"Rumple?" she gasped without bothering to look at the caller I.D.
"Lacey?" a female voice asked, and it took Belle a moment to recognize that it belonged to Emma Swan.
"Yes?" she said, blinking in surprise and wondering if Emma had noticed the way she'd answered the phone. I hope not. How am I going to explain that? The best thing she could do was go on like nothing had happened, so Belle asked: "Sheriff, why are you calling me?"
"Mr. Gold is in the hospital," the distant voice replied, and Belle's stomach dropped out.
"What happened?" she whispered, barely able to find her voice. Had Cora—?
"We're not sure yet. Someone caught him on the street and beat him up pretty badly," Emma told her, and Belle had to sit down, barely making it into one of the chairs at the kitchen table as her knees went weak. "You're listed as his emergency contact. Can you come down to the hospital?"
"I'll…I'll be right there," she managed to say through her shock after a moment, her heart clenching with worry. Rumple was human here, so fragile and so very human. She'd never even contemplated that someday she might lose him—he was the immortal one!—and yet… "Will he be okay?" Belle whispered.
"He's in emergency surgery right now."
Lacey had never been an expert on medical procedures, which meant that Belle wasn't, either, but she knew enough to know that was bad. "I'll be there as soon as I can get someone to come over and watch Renee," she promised, and then hung up before Emma could respond.
If Rumplestiltskin was in that bad of shape, Belle couldn't bear to bring his daughter to see him. Home was the safest place for their little girl. Hands shaking, she pulled up Dove's number out of the contacts listed in her phone. She was sure Marie would be willing to watch Renee, and Dove would undoubtedly want to come to the hospital, too. Particularly since someone beat Rumplestiltskin up, Belle thought angrily. Whatever had happened, whoever had done it, she was not going to give them a second chance. She'd have Dove stay with Rumple until they figured out what was going on.
His curse had finally stopped raging; it seemed to be sinking all of its energy into keeping him alive. Without magic in Storybrooke, his curse was severely limited in what it could do: it couldn't heal him, or even lessen the pain, but it did seem able to keep his body functioning until Whale and his fellows could dig into Rumplestiltskin with their crude medical instruments. The curse also served to wake him up sooner than his merely human body wanted to become coherent, which was why Rumplestiltskin started to come to as they rolled him into the recovery room. The world around him was still spinning, and there appeared to be nothing his curse could do about that, but he was waking up. Even if he didn't want to. Every bone in his body seemed to hurt, even though it was a distant pain, like it was happening to someone else. Vaguely, he could hear Whale talking to someone.
"…think I got all the internal bleeding stopped, but there's no way to be sure this early," the doctor said, but his voice sounded like it was coming from the other end of a long tunnel. "Someone laid into him pretty badly. He's got four broken ribs, a broken cheekbone, a nasty concussion, and I don't want to begin trying to describe what happened to his right leg. He'll be lucky if he can walk with just a cane again. He might need a wheelchair."
"When is he going to be awake to answer a few questions?" That was the sheriff, of course, bless her noble and determined little heart.
"It's hard to tell. The anesthesia should wear off within the next hour, but sleeping is the body's best way to heal. He might be out for the rest of the night."
Rumplestiltskin was floating. Both voices sounded like they were coming from so far away, and although he tried to will his voice into working, it just didn't seem to want to play. Intellectually, he knew that the painkillers he was on—was that an IV stabbing uncomfortably into his left arm?—were keeping him like that, but as grateful as he was for the way they kept the pain at bay, Rumplestiltskin didn't appreciate the fog in his mind. His mind had always been his greatest weapon, and right now it was not working properly. Meanwhile, Emma said:
"Give me a call when he wakes up, okay? I need to figure out who did this before they hurt someone else."
That made a laugh bubble up in his throat, although it came out as an agonizing cough. Rumplestiltskin wasn't so out of it that he didn't remember exactly who attacked him, and the thought of those two going after someone else was downright ludicrous. Neither was that courageous, particularly not when their target wasn't already disabled. He wanted to let out one of his old high-pitched giggles, but everything hurt too much. Then footsteps moved closer to him, drawn by the sound he'd made, and Rumplestiltskin could almost feel two sets of eyes studying him, wondering if the cough was a reflex or something more.
"Whoever it was, they left him for dead. I hope you get them soon, Sheriff," Frankenstein said, sounding like he actually meant it. Amusement from the thought of the dear doctor's former obsession with the dead almost really made him giggle, but thankfully he was too wasted to manage that. Finally, Rumplestiltskin managed to force his eyes open.
"…awake," he wheezed, surprised that his mouth was suddenly willing to work. Was that his curse? There was no way to know.
"Mr. Gold?" There was Emma again, sounding strangely concerned. She wouldn't be if she knew what you were, the curse whispered, and Rumpelstiltskin really wished it hadn't chosen such an inopportune time to reintegrate itself into his consciousness. Had it simply gone silent because it thought he might die? Now that was a pleasant thought.
"Yeah," he managed after a moment, wincing as pain in his right cheek flared too high for the morphine to keep up with.
"You're awake already?" Whale demanded, sounding surprised.
"Either that, or I'm doing a…lovely job talking in my sleep, dearie," Rumplestiltskin tried to quip, but the sentence ended in a fit of coughing. Oh, his ribs hurt. Talking burned. He felt like the right side of his face was going to fall off.
This was certainly the worst beating he'd suffered in his life, although it did have some stiff competition. However, back in the Frontlands, the local bullies hadn't possessed metal golf clubs, so Rumplestiltskin supposed that might have given Moe and Tony an edge his old neighbors had lacked. A surge of anger accompanied the thought, however; back then, the cripple had been beaten because he was a coward. Now, he'd been on the receiving end because he was a monster—and wasn't this kind of thing the very reason why he had taken on such darkness in the first place? He hated being helpless. He hated being a victim. Once, so long ago, he had sworn that he'd never again allow himself to be put in that position. Yet here he was.
Damn this Land Without Magic, Rumplestiltskin thought acidly, and heard his curse echo the feeling gleefully. His vision was swimming painfully, and he distantly heard Whale calling for a nurse. Somewhere in there, he'd closed his eyes again, so Rumplestiltskin pried them open once more through sheer force of will.
"I expect you have some questions, Sheriff," he whispered, finding that a softer tone kept the pain slightly at bay.
"Do you know who did this to you?" she asked without missing a beat.
"Sheriff, Mr. Gold really isn't up to any questioning right now," Whale grumbled. "He's on a high dosage of morphine, and—"
"And I'm not going to try playing twenty questions," Emma cut the doctor off. "I just want to know who I need to pull off the street. The rest can wait until later."
A nurse had bustled in while Emma was making mincemeat of Whale, and was standing over by the door, but Rumplestiltskin paid her no mind.
"And I'm trying to tell you that he's got a concussion and may not remember at all right now," Whale snapped back.
"Why don't we let him answer that?" she countered, and turned back to Rumplestiltskin.
"I remember," he whispered out another wheeze, feeling his ribs protest. But painkillers hadn't been a luxury that he'd owned back in the Enchanted Forest, and the spinner he'd once been had learned to live with pain. Even discounting the way walking had always hurt, Rumplestiltskin had endured more than a few beatings back then. After Milah had left, Bae had had no one to take care of him but his father, so Rumplestiltskin had always pushed aside the pain and done what he had to do to provide for his boy.
"Can you tell me?" Emma asked, her voice more gentle than Rumplestiltskin ever remembered it being. She truly was a worthy daughter of her parents, he reflected dizzily, a combination of both their strength and their compassion.
For a moment, Rumplestiltskin contemplated keeping the knowledge to himself and exacting his own revenge later—but no. Firstly, he'd already opened his mouth and admitted he knew, probably due to the way the drugs slowed his usually quick brain down, numbing his manipulative nature into something almost normal. Secondly, Belle would never forgive him if he killed her father, and there was the pesky business of that old promise of his. He'd done a deal, and promised that Belle's family and friends would be safe. Rumplestiltskin never broke a deal, even when his curse raged on demanding that he deal with them himself.
"Moe French and Tony Rose," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment in hopes that it would make the room stop spinning. It didn't. If anything, he was dizzier than ever when he opened his eyes.
"The florist and the guy who owns the jewelry shop?" Emma said doubtfully.
"Well, if it makes you feel better…I wasn't expecting it, either," Rumplestiltskin breathed, his chest growing tighter and tighter. His face must have shown the pain, though, because Whale stepped forward.
"All right. That's enough. You've got your names, Sheriff. Now leave my patient in peace."
"Right. I'll be back," she promised, and the doctor escorted the sheriff out as Rumplestiltskin stared blankly at the ceiling, breathing hard. Everything hurt. Was the morphine wearing off, or was he just waking up further?
Suddenly, a red-haired woman leaned over him, and seeing her face almost made Rumplestiltskin curse aloud in surprise. At first, he tried to convince himself that he was just seeing things, that this woman shouldn't be in Storybrooke, but he knew that his eyes weren't deceiving him and he wasn't that dizzy. Last he'd known, she'd been in Oz and she'd been green, but he'd still recognize that face anywhere. Her nametag red 'Chloe Zephyr', though, and she was obviously a nurse. Just not a nurse that he wanted anywhere near him. Ever.
He barely managed to bite back the temptation to yell for Whale to find another nurse as Zelena's alter ego cooed: "Oh, you poor thing. Let me up that dosage a bit for you, and then you should sleep just fine."
"I don't—" Rumplestiltskin started to object, but her manicured fingers (with green painted nails, of course) were already adjusting his morphine drip, and soon enough, the room faded into blackness.
13 Years, 3 Months Before the Curse
In retrospect, he was amazed that it had taken so long. Zelena had been driving him crazy for months, asking incessant questions about both her mother and her younger sister. She was growing increasingly unstable, too, unbearably envious of Regina, whom Rumplestiltskin was careful to never let her meet. He still wasn't particularly pleased with Cora for sending this crazier daughter his way, but he'd at least thought he could make use of Zelena in the beginning. Now, he was not so sure.
She was a sad little thing, really, desperate for approval and for affection. Cora had already manipulated Zelena into thinking that she'd sent her to Rumplestiltskin for her own good, but Rumplestiltskin knew differently. He knew that Cora had sent Zelena to the Dark Castle to get her out of the way, and while he was initially amused by his efforts to turn Zelena to his side, that attempt quickly got the better of him. She still fancied herself in love with him, and that didn't just disqualify her from casting the curse. It also made Rumplestiltskin acutely uncomfortable, for he wasn't looking for anything like love. Particularly not from someone as clingy and as unpredictable as Zelena. And definitely not from Cora's daughter!
He'd checked to make sure she wasn't his, of course, and was damn relieved to know that she wasn't. Rumplestiltskin hadn't thought he'd impregnated Cora—he'd been very careful at the time not to, thinking they'd have years yet to have children—but he wouldn't have put it past her to lie to him. So, he'd checked three times, using every spell he knew of to verify that Zelena was no relation of his. She wasn't, but that still didn't make him want her.
Most Dark Ones, he knew, would play on her feelings, get her into their bed—for Zelena was far from an ugly woman, particularly when she had her envy under control—and then tie her to themselves as thoroughly as possible. But Rumplestiltskin was not like his predecessors. He had loved two women in his life, and both had broken his heart. He had never been one for casual romances, and the idea of lying about his own feelings and starting a relationship with her sickened him. The thought that he'd nearly married her mother only added icing to that disgusting cake; Rumplestiltskin was not interested in Zelena, no matter how hard she tried to change that. Her efforts were clumsy, however, and ignoring them was growing harder and harder.
"What exactly is it that you're trying to do, Zelena?" he asked her one evening, when she came sweeping into his tower long after bedtime—he so wished that she had somewhere else to live in this realm, because Zelena was seriously cramping his entire life.
"Visiting you, of course," she replied, and Rumplestiltskin finally glanced her way from where he sat at his oldest spinning wheel. So much for finding peace while spinning. She's ruined that, he thought irritably. Zelena was wearing a low-cut nightdress and the sheerest robe he'd ever seen, obviously having put her best assets on display. She'd managed to fight back her latest bout of envy a few weeks earlier, and so no green splotches marred her skin, but Rumplestiltskin found himself not even the slightest bit tempted.
"It's far past your bedtime, dearie," he said as casually as he could, letting his voice trip up even higher than usual. The less human you are, the less she'll want you, he tried to tell himself. "Shouldn't you be…anywhere but here?"
"Why don't you come with me?" Zelena invited him, and wasn't that subtle?
Even Rumplestiltskin had to blink at how blatant her attempts to seduce him had become, and it took him a moment to wrap his mind around what was happening. She wants you for your power, the curse whispered inside his mind. You should take advantage of that. Take her. Enjoy yourself! With an effort—and a great deal of disgust—Rumplestiltskin tore his mind away from that artificial temptation. Zelena was almost as messed up as he was, so even if he had been attracted to her, nothing good could have come out of it.
"I…don't think that's a wise idea at all," Rumplestiltskin replied, getting up from the wheel just before she could sit down beside him. He danced backwards a few steps, trying not to look unnerved and failing.
Zelena shrugged. "Who says wisdom has anything to do with it?"
She tried to put a hand on his arm; he evaded her grasp.
"I'm going to stick with the wiser course of action, all the same," he told her. "You're my student. I don't get involved with students."
"Why ever not?" Now she was pouting, but at least that was better than the seductress act. Rumplestiltskin almost felt bad for her, but whatever pity he might have felt was easily drowned out by his desire to avoid her rather more intimate longings.
He flashed her a rotten-toothed smile. "You might say that I learned my lesson."
"Just because it went wrong once doesn't mean it has to a second time," Zelena pointed out, finally managing to step up in front of him and place her hands on his arms. She leaned in, and Rumplestiltskin felt the need to go take a very long bath and scrub himself thoroughly.
"Uh, yes it does," he giggled, throwing a hand up in a flourish and using his best weapon to frighten her off. "Particularly since I learned it with your mother."
"With my mother?" she gasped, and that finally made her back up a step.
"What, she never told you?" Rumplestiltskin asked, feigning surprise. "I thought she would have. She told Regina, of course."
Ah, there it was. The mention of her sister was enough to make Zelena's envy rear up again, and he watched her blue eyes go wide with hatred and fury. Any reference to Cora actually raising Regina was always a good way to distract Zelena, and Rumplestiltskin really needed her distracted at the moment.
"You both like her more than me!" Zelena burst out, and as she spoke, a patch of green started growing on her neck once more.
Watching that did alarm Rumplestiltskin a little. He didn't need Zelena to cast his curse, but that didn't mean he didn't like the idea of having her as an ally. Without her being in my bed! "Liking has nothing to do with it, dear," he reassured her, sliding away from her still all-too-close presence. Now that she'd stopped trying to seduce him, he could afford to be kind. "I don't teach either of you because I like you."
Even as he said the words, Rumplestiltskin knew they were only partially true. No, he hadn't chosen to teach either of Cora's daughters because of any lingering affection for any of the three women, but he did vastly prefer Regina over her older sister. Not for rational reasons, though. The spinner that had always been inside him would probably never be silent, and that man—quiet though his soul was—remembered that Regina would have been the daughter who Cora would have given him, remembered visions of himself holding her. Regina wasn't his daughter, and would never be, but somehow they were starting to carve out a relationship close to that.
"No, you just want power," Zelena snapped.
"Of course I do. I'm the Dark One. What did you expect?"
She looked heartbroken, but Rumplestiltskin hadn't thought she was that deluded. "Then what am I supposed to do?" she whispered.
"Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about that," he said, figuring that now was as good a time as any. "You've reached the point that you can learn anything else you want to learn—and I do mean anything—by yourself. You're an extremely talented sorceress, Zelena, and I'm not just saying that."
The pout was back. "So?"
"So…I think it's time for you to strike out on your own. Take a castle off of some unsuspecting nobleman. Make a name for yourself. You don't have to depend upon your mother to care for you. Just take care of it yourself."
"But Mother sent me to you," Zelena objected.
"Your mother is not exactly a…caring woman, Zelena. She'll keep you in reserve until she needs you, and then use you for all you're worth." This was the kindest bit of advice that Rumplestiltskin had for her, but Zelena was still obviously not happy to hear it.
She glared, and the words were a snarl: "Just like you."
Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "At least I'm not lying to you about it."
Belle was surprised to see Regina in the waiting room when she reached the hospital, but only so surprised. She knew that Regina was awake, too, and knew that she and Rumple had been close back in the Enchanted Forest. Rumplestiltskin never told her exactly how close they were, but she'd always been able to infer that he almost thought of the sorceress as something like a daughter. Of course, he'd never admit that aloud—and particularly not to Regina—but judging from the worried expression on the mayor's daughter's face, she cared for him, too. For a moment, Belle contemplated asking one of the nurses for news and pretending that she didn't know about Regina's closeness with her husband, but instead she opted for the direct route. She was too worried to do anything else.
But the fact that Robin Hood was sitting next to Regina did give her pause, and Belle hesitated a moment too long. Fortunately, that moment was all it took for Regina to spot her, and Rumplestiltskin's student walked over to her.
"I hear you're Gold's emergency contact," the older woman said by way of greeting, and Belle nodded. Gold had changed Cora out for Lacey years earlier; even under the curse, Belle would have gotten the call. True Love wins out, her husband had said more than once, and he'd been right.
"Yes," she said, swallowing back the need to rush right further into the hospital, shouting for Rumple until someone told her where he was. "How is he?"
"Bad," Regina answered bluntly, and was she looking at Belle suspiciously?
"Do you know anything more than that?" Belle asked, trying not to let her voice shake. Bad could mean so many things, and Rumple was so fragile here, fragile in more ways than anyone could appreciate.
Regina studied her for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "Your father and your ex-boyfriend are the ones who beat him up."
"What?"
"You really didn't know about that, did you?" Apparently, Belle's surprise gained her a little respect from Regina, because her outright hostility lessened by a notch or two.
"No! Why would I have known about that?" Belle demanded, startled into complete honesty by the knowledge that her fatherhad hurt her husband. "I keep telling them that I'm where I want to be, that I'm happy. But they don't believe me at all." Belle barely managed to stop herself from saying more, particularly things that would tell Regina that Belle also remembered their past lives. "Please, tell me what happened. Tell me he's going to be all right."
Regina grimaced. "Whale's not sure yet. He was awake for a bit earlier, and then passed back out. He's got a lot of injuries."
Swallowing hard, Belle made herself nod. "How bad?"
"A bunch of broken bones. Some internal injuries, too. You'll have to ask Whale for the details," the older woman said shortly. Obviously, she still didn't trust Belle, but at the moment, Belle didn't care.
"What room is he in?" she asked.
"I just told you that he's not awake," Regina pointed out, sounding annoyed.
"Then I'll sit with him until he wakes up." All the power of Cora's curse couldn't make Belle leave Rumple, now, and she turned to ask the nurse at the information desk the very question Regina had just refused to answer.
Only to find a hand grab her arm and jerk her up short. Belle turned to glare at Regina, finding the taller woman glowering down at her. She tried to pull away once, but Regina was far stronger than her, and doing so only made Belle stumble.
"Look," Cora's daughter said. "We both know what kind of man Gold is, so you don't have to pretend, okay? Just go home to your daughter, and I'm sure everything will be fine. You can even have that house to yourself for a while, and I'm sure you'll like that."
"I'm not pretending," Belle snapped, finally able to yank her arm out of Regina's grasp. "You don't know anything about me, so don't assume I don't care for him. Excuse me."
Leaving Regina stunned in her wake, Belle stalked away.
A/N: Okay, so Rumplestiltskin isn't out of the woods, but in the hospital is better than lying on the street, right? Also, thank you so much to everyone who left feedback on the last chapter! It really means a lot to me.
Next: Chapter 47: "Truth and History", in which Belle feels guilty, Regina spies on "Lacey" and Rumplestiltskin, Keith is his usual annoying self, and Whale starts asking Gold uncomfortable questions. Back in the past, Belle researches something she shouldn't.