Chapter One Hundred and One—"That Which You Seek"

When they met for breakfast five days after Cora's defeat, Bae decided that he had to ask the damn question. Otherwise, he was sure to chicken out. He'd only been in Storybrooke for eighteen days, and had first seen Emma sixteen days ago, but Bae knew exactly what he wanted to do. Somehow, they still fittogether, arguing and teasing one another like almost no time had passed. Oh, Emma had demons now that she hadn't before—demons he'd caused, in the main—but at heart she was still the same Emma that Neal Cassidy had known. And he wasn't as different as he'd sometimes wanted to think, either, because Bae knew that as Emma's Neal, he'd been a lot closer to the boy he'd been than ever before or since.

Until now, I guess, he thought uneasily, watching Emma drop into the seat across from him. He would have pulled her chair out if they weren't sitting in a booth, but hell, Bae figured he was going to make enough of a public spectacle out of himself here shortly, so maybe the less attention drawn in right now, the better.

"You okay?" Emma asked, looking a little concerned.

"Yeah," Bae answered, trying not to fidget and failing. "Look, I'm not really good at any of this, so I'm just gonna get straight to the point, okay?"

"Sure," she said dubiously, leaning back and arching an eyebrow. "Go for it."

"Look, I know you agreed to marry me because of how the contract would protect your family. And—"

"I told you that wasn't why," Emma cut him off, and Bae tried not to hope.

"I'm not going to hold you to that. Not when there was so much on the line," he said quietly, and steeled himself before reaching out to take her hands. "I love you, Emma. I'm not going to stop loving you. But that means doing what you want to. So, if you want to call this thing off, pretend like we never made an agreement, that's fine with me. I just want you to be happy—I've screwed that up enough times already. I'm not going to do that again."

"Neal—Bae…"

"Either works. I don't mind you calling me Neal," Bae said, giving her a half smile. It reminds me of who we were, before I stupidly sent it straight to hell because Pinocchio told me to. Emma clearly didn't know what to say, and he tried like hell to hide how badly that hurt. He'd known she'd want out—any sane person would—so why did he want to beg her not to?

I've got to do right by her, he told himself for the hundredth time. She deserves it.

"Neal, then," Emma said, taking a deep breath of her own. "Look, I was going to marry you. Courthouse, marriage license, kiss the bride, and everything. A little battle got in the way, and we've spent the last five days putting the town back together, but what out of all of that makes you think I'd want to back out now?"

He gaped. Utterly speechless, all Bae could do was stare.

"I wouldn't mind a proper engagement, though," Emma continued when it became obvious that he was just going to stare at her like she'd gone mad. "Maybe even moving in together before we tie the knot?"

"You want—you want—you want to what?" he finally managed to say around the roaring in his ears. She still wants to marry you, you idiot! the voice of his common sense shouted. Say something coherent, or she's going to laugh and walk away!

Emma squeezed his fingers so hard it hurt in an absolutely awesome way. "I meant it when I said that I never got over you," she whispered. "I love you. Sometimes I've wished I didn't, but I do, and damnit, if there's anything this wacked-out town has taught me, it's that you don't walk away from people you love."

"I'm sorry," Bae said yet again, knowing he could never apologize enough for what he'd done.

"I'm not talking about that, you idiot." She smacked his arm lightly.

"I was," he admitted. "Because I'll always be. I know I screwed up, Emma."

"Then how about you just promise you won't walk away again?" she asked, and he could hear the old pain behind the casual tone.

"I won't," he swore. "Not ever. Not as long as you'll have me, anyway."

Emma smiled, and damn if that hesitant little twitch of her lips didn't do him in every time. "Good."

"I, uh, got you a ring," Bae blurted out, not knowing what else to say if Emma didn't want him jumping across the table then and there to kiss her.

Not that he thought she'd argue. But Granny might have had a thing or two to say about the broken glasses.

"You did?" Now she was staring at him, eyes wide and looking so very young.

"Of course I did."

Clumsily, Bae fumbled in his pants pocket and came out with the box he'd brought along, just in case. Since Emma still held his right hand, he tried to open it one-handed, but somehow he managed to drop the box entirely, and Emma had to catch it before it bounced onto the floor. Letting go of his hand, she eased the lid upwards, peering inside. Then her mouth dropped open, and all he could think was that the ring was ugly, that he should have driven out of Storybrooke and gotten a better one, and that—

"It's beautiful," Emma breathed, but Bae didn't really hear her. He was too ready to say something else.

"If you don't like it I can get another," he said quickly. "I mean, it's—wait a minute. You said that it's beautiful?"

"We need to work on your listening skills," she teased him, and Bae felt a huge dorky grin split his face.

"Probably," he agreed.

"So, uh, you gonna put this on me, or do I have to do it for myself, Baelfire?" Emma taunted him, and Bae laughed.

"You want me to do this all suitor-like, down on one knee and everything?" he shot back, knowing how Emma didn't always like to draw attention to herself.

But the hazel eyes that met his blazed with a challenge. "Do you even know how?"

"Hey! I can propose with the best of them, particularly since you already said yes."

"Prove it."

She shoved the box at him, so Bae did, getting up out of his seat, dropping down to one knee in front of everyone at the diner—he'd lived a few centuries in Neverland, after all, and nothing was private there, so who cared what the large breakfast crowd thought?—and asking Emma Swan to marry him. She giggled when he put the ring on her finger, but the smile on her face was worth it, so Bae kissed her. Hell, she was willing to marry him, and he really felt like he could walk on water right now.

"My parents are going to insist on some huge wedding," she warned him, and Bae groaned.

"Belle will probably help them plan it."

Emma snorted. "At least we can have your little sister be the flower girl?"

"She might eat the flowers. They stick everything in their mouths at that age."

"I can live with that," she replied, and turned a glowing smile on Bae that made the world shift beneath his feet.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I can, too."

{**********}

Her mother had been dead for five days, and so far they had been the best days of Regina's life.

Oh, she'd been busy. First, they'd had to make sure Zelena wouldn't escape—a trick when she had, according to Rumplestiltskin, learned magic without that pendant, so there was always a chance that she might learn to harness her powers without it again. In the end, Snow had talked Blue into helping ward the cell in the asylum the same way the fairies had once imprisoned Rumplestiltskin. Their resident Dark One had not been too pleased to work with the fairies, but Regina had talked him into telling them how to close up any loopholes he thought that Zelena might find (though Regina suspected that he didn't point out all the loopholes; Rumple was nothing if not good at self-preservation, and she didn't miss the way Blue looked at him, either). In the end, however, they'd managed to get Zelena locked up tightly enough, even if they weren't sure what to do with her yet.

Zelena had only been a small portion of the problem, and Regina often envied her old teacher's approach to problems like this. He just retreated and only helped when someone wanted to make a deal, or when Belle or Baelfire talked him into it. Henry seemed to trying his luck in that direction, too, and if anyone had told Regina's old self that her adopted son would turn out to be Rumple's grandson, she would have told them they were insane. Yet somehow, their odd little family seemed to be working out.

It was functioning better than the politics of fixing Storybrooke were, anyway. Snow and David were nominally in charge, but everyone seemed to have something to say—and a number of people seemed to want to rule the town themselves. It had taken some quick negotiations with Maleficent to stop Cruella and Ursula from trying to establish their little triumvirate into the town's new overlords, and Regina still wasn't sure that they weren't going to try again. Apparently, Cruella felt that the fact that they'd gone neutral way late in the game entitled them to power now, and Regina really didn't fancy setting herself up as some psychopath's subject. Nor was she going to put her family in that position. Not in this lifetime.

Sooner or later, they were going to have to figure out what laws to try people under, because most of the ruffians who had been rounded up were now keeping Zelena company in the asylum, but they were starting to run out of space. The jail didn't exactly have a lot of room, and Cora had had a lot of henchmen. It kept Graham and Emma busy, though Regina definitely didn't miss the fact that Emma had decided—again, apparently—to marry Henry's father that very morning.

Which brought Regina to Robin's door, where she was busy forcing a deep breath and telling herself not to be nervous. He woke you up from a Sleeping Curse, Regina, she told herself firmly. If that doesn't tell you how he feels, nothing will. Quickly, before she lost her nerve, Regina knocked on the door, rapping her knuckles hard against the wood. Roland opened it almost immediately.

"Miss 'Gina!" the four year old greeted her cheerfully, giving her a toothy grin. For some reason, Roland had always had trouble saying her full name, but Regina somehow felt more special because he was the only one who she let use that nickname.

"Hey, you," she smiled back. "Is your Papa here?"

"Uh huh."

"Can I come in and talk to him, then?" Regina asked, loving the solemn answer.

Roland seemed to consider that, and then nodded. "Only if you pick me up."

"You have a deal," she laughed, bending to wrap her arms around Roland and picking him up. Walking into the apartment, Regina kicked the door shut behind herself, just in time to see Robin coming out of the bathroom.

"Little scamp is answering the door again, I see," he chuckled. "I keep trying to teach him not to do that, but John's a bad influence."

"Well, at least it's just me," she replied, moving to put Roland down on the couch, but the boy shook his head.

"No," he said firmly.

Regina turned to look at him. "No?"

"No. I want to stay here." Then Roland leaned in to put a big, smacking kiss on her cheek, and Regina melted.

"All right," she gave in, sitting on the couch and settling Roland in her lap. "Does this work?"

"Yup," was the cheerful response, and Robin laughed again as he sat down next to them.

"Should I be concerned that this little charmer will replace me in your affections, my lady?" Robin teased her, and Regina felt herself growing a little red.

"Replace?" she managed to say lightly. "Never. Enhance, perhaps…?"

"Now, I like the sound of that," Robin replied, and now it was his turn to lean in and kiss her lightly. Roland made an 'icky' noise that they both ignored, but at least the four year old didn't try to push their faces apart. This time.

Henry had never tried things like that at this age, but then again, Regina didn't remember kissing David often, even when they were both cursed. They'd both loved Henry, but in a lot of ways, their so-called marriage hadn't been so very different than their friendship was now. Regina supposed that was how they could go on living in the same house, weird as that idea should have been. Yet their odd family was happy the way they were, and Regina certainly never felt any reason to threaten Snow and David's actual marriage. She just wanted the same thing for herself, which was what brought her here today.

"Me, too," Regina admitted softly. The love shining plainly in Robin's eyes made her feel warm inside, wanted and cherished, like she hadn't been since her short and ill-fated marriage to Daniel. There had been a few short months, back when she'd been so young and so innocent, that she had believed in True Love. Now, older, wiser, and far more bitter, she found herself believing again, and the feeling was wonderful.

"So, what brings you to my door today, love?" Robin asked. "Not that I'm anything other than delighted to see you, but I know that look on your face. You have a plan."

"A plan?" she echoed, blinking. "What makes you say that?"

He grinned. "As I said, I know the look in your eyes."

"Well, I'm not sure I'd call it a plan. Maybe…a request?"

"You know I can refuse you nothing," Robin replied, his voice dropping a few octaves and making Regina shiver. Roland glanced between them, looking confused, and then apparently decided that adult conversations were boring and jumped off the couch to go play with his Robin Hood action figures again.

"Maybe you shouldn't agree before you know what it is," Regina said hesitantly, all of her insecurities welling up and making her wonder if she was right to ask him. Or if this was too fast. Or a thousand other things that—

"Then tell me what you have in mind and I'll be sure to consider it carefully," he said before her mental train wreck could spiral even further out of control, and part of Regina wanted to run away.

But no. She hadn't run from her mother, and she wouldn't run from this. True Love has to be fought for. Robin had fought for her, breaking into her mother's house and risking his life to save her. Regina would fight for him, too. For their love.

"I was wondering if you and Roland wanted to move in with us," she said softly, swallowing hard. "We have so much space, and I miss you so much when you're not there—both of you. And I…I…"

"You want to become a family," Robin finished the sentence she couldn't, and Regina nodded mutely.

"I know it's fast, but…"

"But it isn't," he said. "Errol or Robin, I love you. And so does Roland. We've been working on this relationship for a while, haven't we?"

Her smile was so hopeful that it hurt. "Yes," Regina whispered, and found Robin's lips brushing against hers.

"Then a family we shall be," he promised, and Regina closed her eyes on tears.

Thiswas all she'd ever wanted. Thiswas what her mother had tried to take away from her so many times. Her family. And that family wasn't just limited to Robin and Roland, either. It couldn't be. She had another son who would always own her heart. She had a wonderful sister—a real one, despite the blood connection they lacked—who had taught Regina what real love was, saving her from Cora's toxicity and her own heartbreak. Because of Snow, she had a brother-in-law who she knew better than almost anyone, and a niece who she'd probably always fight with but who had somehow become one of her best friends. Then, somehow, her oldest friend and mentor had turned out to be her son's grandfather, tying him into the family, too. It was a beautiful mess, but not one that Regina would trade for the world.

She and Robin would talk about marriage later. They had time, plenty of it. For now, it was most important that they knew what they meant to one another, and that they both knew neither would hide from it. I will not let go, Regina promised herself silently. Not this time.

I'll always miss you, Daniel, but I'll never forget what you said, she thought, burying her face in Robin's shoulder. You told me to love again, and I will. It won't mean I love you less, but I can love Robin, too.

{**********}

Jefferson wasn't sure why he was the only one who found this meeting absolutely hysterical. Then again, maybe I'm just a little mad after all, he decided, trying to hide a smirk. Neither of the two sorcerers who currently sat in his living room would probably appreciate the irony of the situation—but then again, maybe Rumple would. The Dark One had always possessed an odd sense of humor, one that Jefferson had been known to push to its limits. Which is probably why Jafar has never frightened me, he thought, sipping his tea to hide his smile. I've seen Rumplestiltskin throw a tantrum. What's Jafar compared to that?

"I did want to compliment you on how neatly you disposed of Cora," Jafar spoke up smoothly, clearly trying to test out the waters. Jafar was always smooth and confident, always poised and intelligent, but Jefferson had gotten to know him well enough to know that was usually a façade. "I also understand that you somehow convinced the Jabberwocky to…depart Storybrooke?"

Rumplestiltskin's smile was as sly as Jafar's expression was cool. "The Jabberwocky's interests lay elsewhere," he shrugged. "I certainly didn't harm her, if that's what you're asking."

"Not at all. Though I do admit to being curious if you truly were the one to give her the Vorpal Blade. That's an enormous amount of power to give up."

"So it is."

As usual, the answer was neither a confirmation nor a denial, but Jefferson could guess that Rumplestiltskin had done it. After all, he knew the Dark One a lot better than Jafar did, and he could guess that Rumplestiltskin might have actually empathized with the Jabberwocky a little bit, given how Cora had controlled both of them. Not that Rumple would ever say that out loud, particularly to a potential rival like Jafar.

Jafar, however, eyed Rumplestiltskin cautiously, clearly trying to decide where to take this conversation. Jefferson was doubly amused to find that Rumplestiltskin was willing to let Jafar take the lead; after all, the Dark One had asked Jefferson to set up this meeting, and he clearly had a purpose in doing so. But the tricky bastard had always been patient. Besides, all this meeting cost Jefferson was a bit of tea and the use of his living room. In return, he got Rumplestiltskin's gratitude and free entertainment. Who could ask for anything better?

"So," Jafar said after the silence obviously stretched on too long, even for him. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting? I doubt it's because we both enjoy Jefferson's tea so very much."

"No. I actually think Jefferson makes terrible tea," Rumplestiltskin replied easily, and Jafar's eyebrows shot up.

Jefferson, however, just snorted. "You think anyone who isn't your wife makes terrible tea."

"True." Amusement glittered in Rumplestiltskin's brown eyes, and Jefferson noticed Jafar taking that in with surprise before the Dark One shrugged and continued: "Well, then, shall we get to the point?"

"That would be lovely." Jafar set his cup down.

"Then I'll be blunt. You have…ambitions, let us call them. You want to do something that I believe is reckless and will undoubtedly lead to your downfall, but as it's your life, I'll certainly not stop you from trying—or at least not if you take your 'quest' elsewhere. Do you catch my meaning?"

Jafar's eyes narrowed. "I would have thought you might very well be interested in the success of my quest."

"Hardly," Rumplestiltskin snorted. "The Laws of Magic exist for a reason, and as many regrets as I've had in my life—and as many choices I have made that I would like to change—I know better than to trifle with such things. Magic always comes at a price, and you'd do well to remember that."

"Yet if the spell succeeds, there is no price," Jafar countered.

"There's always a price, dearie. You just might not realize what until it's too late."

"Then I'll face that when it comes," was the wary answer. "Assuming you don't actually mean to interfere. I was going to offer you the opportunity to be the second sorcerer needed for the spell."

"Flattered though I am, I feel I must decline," Rumplestiltskin replied immediately. "I've known of the Spell of the Three Genies for a very long time, and even in my most desperate moments, I've never been tempted to turn to it. As I once told your mentor."

Rumplestiltskin gestured airily in the direction of Jafar's staff, and Jefferson found himself glancing at the golden snake head in confusion. Had Jafar inherited it from whichever mentor Rumplestiltskin referred to? If so, why did Jafar's eyes narrow like that, as if he was suddenly suspicious of how much Rumplestiltskin knew and what the Dark One might do with that knowledge? Jefferson felt like the temperature in the room had dropped considerably, and he suddenly wondered if inviting the two of them here was such a good idea after all.

"Amara never mentioned knowing you," Jafar countered smoothly, coming back on balance.

Rumplestiltskin laughed softly. "Oh, I imagine there's many things she didn't tell you," he said, and then shrugged. "But that's between the two of you. My point, Jafar, is simple. If you want to play at changing the laws of magic, enjoy yourself. Just don't do it here."

Jafar didn't like being dictated to; Jefferson could see that in his eyes. "Or?"

"Does there need to be an 'or'?" Rumplestiltskin said mildly, but there was nothing mild in his gaze as he leaned forward. "Storybrooke is not the place for such experiments. Find a different one."

The two sorcerers looked at one another across the coffee table, and Jefferson fought the urge to get up off of the couch and out of range. Several moments passed in nerve-wrenching silence, and Jefferson tried very hard not to hold his breath. Why oh why did I have to be such an idiot as to invite these two into my living room! This is Grace's favorite tea set! He was just thankful that Grace was out with friends and therefore not likely to be caught in the sorcerer's duel that might erupt inside his house.

"As it so happens," Jafar said after a moment, his voice entirely too casual, "the three genies I require are not in this world, anyway."

"Then I trust that our dear Hatter will be more than willing to drop you off wherever they may be?" The question was directed at him, and it made Jefferson jump.

Still, he nodded after a moment. "Assuming you don't intend to make me stick around for the fireworks, sure, I'll take you," he said to Jafar.

"That's hardly necessary," Jafar replied immediately. "You have a daughter and a life here, my friend. So long as you can find someone—or a body, I suppose—to bring back with you, I'm perfectly capable of fending for myself."

Well, hearing that was a relief. Jefferson liked Jafar, but he had a long standing relationship with Rumplestiltskin that he wasn't about to jeopardize by taking the younger sorcerer's side in this mess. He knew Rumplestiltskin well enough to know that a spell had to be well and truly terrible for the Dark One to find it morally repulsive, which meant that whatever Jafar was planning, Jefferson wanted no part in it. But I don't want to be his enemy, either, just in case he succeeds, he decided. He'd rather remain on friendly terms with both of them, if possible.

"Then just tell me when you want to go," he shrugged as casually as he could, watching Rumplestiltskin's inscrutable expression. Rumple didn't expect Jafar to succeed, did he? Jefferson thought he could read him well enough to figure that out. That's even more reason to be somewhere else when he casts that spell!

"Perhaps a day or two?" Jafar mused, and then glanced back at Rumplestiltskin. "Assuming no one in this town is in a hurry to see the back of me, that is."

"I don't foresee anyone running you out of town, pitchforks in hand," the Dark One said dryly.

Jafar's smile was sly. "Yes, I hear that you have quite the inroads with the heroes these days."

"Well, my son certainly does," was the easy answer, but Jefferson heard the warning in it all the same.

So too, clearly, did Jafar. Rumplestiltskin might have been the Dark One, and was perfectly capable of taking Jafar out on his own, but he also had the ear of Storybrooke's nominal rulers. He seemed to be working with them, for the moment, which meant that anyone who struck out and tried to take power would have to deal with him, too. Jafar certainly wasn't stupid enough to do that, which meant he departed on amicable terms a few minutes later, promising to give Jefferson a day's warning before he wanted to head to Wonderland.

"A spell to break the Laws of Magic?" Jefferson asked after he was sure Jafar was gone.

Rumplestiltskin sipped his tea nonchalantly. "I wouldn't worry too much about that one, Hatter. Our dear friend is going to uncover a few…obstacles that he didn't count on."

"Oh?"

The Dark One just smiled. "Let's just say that his staff isn't what it seems—and the woman he's trapped inside it is not going to take kindly to any spell that would enslave her children forever."

{**********}

"I'm sorry to bother you," Belle said, perching on the desk as Snow and Charming stopped rooting through Cora's old office to face her. "I just thought we needed to talk."

"You're not a bother," Snow replied with a smile. "After everything that's happened, sorting through Cora's old papers can certainly wait. It's waited this long, after all."

"Thanks." Belle hesitated, knowing how much Rumple really might not like what she'd come to discuss with the Charmings, but she needed to get this out in the open. She loved and trusted her husband, and she believed him when he said that breaking his curse might not be a good idea, even if they could do it in the Enchanted Forest. But that meant precautions needed to be taken, so Belle squared her shoulders and continued: "You know about the dagger, now, and you know what it can do."

Snow and Charming exchanged a glance, and it was Charming who answered: "We do, yeah."

"I'd like to know what your intentions are," she said bluntly. "It's no secret that Blue came to you and said that she felt Rumplestiltskin needed to be controlled and imprisoned. You've worked with Blue for a long time, just as long as you've worked with my husband. So, I want to know what you plan to do."

"We don't—we don't plan on doing anything, Belle," Snow said, blinking in surprise. "What makes you ask this?"

"Because I'll say what Rumple won't," Belle replied firmly. "Cora hurt him terribly, because he has no way to defend himself against someone who has the dagger, and no free will at all when he's commanded to do something. It's going to take him a long time to recover from what she did to him, and I won't let someone else hurt him, even if they think it's for the greater good."

"No one wants to hurt him," David objected, but Belle shook her head before he could go on.

"You don't have to want to hurt him to want to control him, which would do the same thing," she pointed out. "Look, this darkness inside him, his curse, is something that Rumplestiltskin fights with every day. He's a good man underneath that, but it corrupts him, and he knows that. But it's far easier for him to hold it back if he doesn't feel like those closest to him want to enslave him, because Rumplestiltskin will go to extraordinary lengths to protect those he loves, and he knows he can't do that if he isn't free."

What Belle didn't add was that she knew how terrified Rumple was of not being able to protect his family if someone else got the dagger. Snow and Charming needed to appreciate how dangerous the situation was, how Rumplestiltskin lived on the narrow edge between dark and light, so that they wouldn't make it worse.

"I think we understand what you're saying," David said after exchanging another glance with Snow. "And what I should have said was that we don't want to see anyone else control him, either. Rumplestiltskin's proven himself to be our ally more than once. And…besides, he's family now. You both are."

Belle smiled despite her worry. "That's why I wanted to talk to you. He doesn't know I'm here, but I worry."

"Is he doing all right?" Snow asked gently.

"He'll be all right," she replied, not willing to tell them how very far Rumple had to go. He wouldn't thank her for sharing that, and as good of people as Snow and Charming were, it wasn't their business.

"We're glad to hear that," Snow replied, and Belle knew she meant it.

"Thank you," she said quietly, and they spoke of other things while Belle helped them figure out which of Cora's belongings were trash and which might be treasure.

Perhaps she had headed off a disaster. Perhaps this was simply a bridge that needed to be built, and maybe Belle could help things along by letting Snow and Charming know just a little bit more. Besides, she knew she wasn't the only one who had heard about the very public proposal Emma had accepted that morning, which meant they were definitely going to be very firm family for the foreseeable future. She just hoped that they would try to understand Rumplestiltskin in the days to come.

{**********}

Bae was waiting for him when Rumplestiltskin got home. Gabi was at the park with Dove and Babette, and Belle had said she'd be back after a few errands, so he'd known they wouldn't be home. Still, Rumplestiltskin hadn't expected to find his son on the couch in the living room, drink in hand, having obviously raided his father's liquor cabinet. He'd heard about Bae proposing—again, apparently—to Emma and her saying yes, of course. The entire town seemed to be talking of nothing else, which was something of a relief, given that it made them stop talking about how he'd killed Cora.

"I thought you'd be out celebrating," he commented curiously.

"I was," Bae replied. "Then I kind of ran into Killian."

If that pirate had tried to ruin his son's happiness, Rumplestiltskin would do a lot more than cut his hand off—but somehow he managed to stop himself from saying that. Barely. It wouldn't go over well, he knew, and Bae was an adult who could fight those battles himself. "What did the pirate want?" Rumplestiltskin asked as casually as he could.

"Not much. It just made me think of something," his son said, glancing down at his glass of scotch—the one he didn't appear to have drunk anything from yet. "Can I ask you a question, Papa?"

"Of course you can, Bae," he said, despite the way warning alarms were going off in his head. Anything Hook had said to Bae wouldn't be complimentary towards Rumplestiltskin, and though he'd promised Belle that he wouldn't kill the pirate, that didn't mean he trusted him at all. Walking over to his favorite armchair, Rumplestiltskin lowered himself into it, watching a variety of emotions play over his son's face.

"What happened to Mom?" Bae asked quietly, and Rumplestiltskin felt his heart sink. He'd known this would come up eventually, even if he'd prayed it wouldn't. For a moment, he thought about lying, about changing the subject, about somehow avoiding a topic he didn't think he was emotionally capable of handling at the moment—but he couldn't. Hook must have told Bae already, judging from his son's expression, and Rumplestiltskin knew he had to tell the truth. So, he took a deep breath and pushed down the swirl of confusing emotions he still felt when he thought about Milah.

"Bae, I need you to understand something before I answer your question," he said just as quietly. "When I first became the Dark One, I…well, you know I couldn't control myself very well. Honestly, I don't think I wanted to. I was so tired of being weak that I lashed out without thinking, and I couldn't control my anger."

"I know. And I know you killed her; Hook told me." Finally, Bae looked back up at him, and was that guilt on his face? "I'm just trying to figure out if I care."

That admission made Rumplestiltskin's jaw drop, and for a moment, all he could do was stare. After a few terrifyingly silent seconds, he found his voice. "You should," he whispered. "She was your mother. And…she deserved better."

"Killian told me that she ran away with him. That they were in love."

"I suppose they were," Rumplestiltskin said, thinking back. He didn't like remembering this, had pushed it away centuries ago, but for his son's sake, he would try to be honest. He forgave me because I was honest, not because I was some powerful sorcerer, Rumplestiltskin reminded himself. He wants his father, the man who'd always told him the truth. "I didn't expect to see her with him—I'd truly expected her to be dead by then, because that pirate implied his crew would be using her for 'companionship' and not that she'd be joining them."

"So…what happened?" Bae asked. "And when was it?"

"After I let you go." He couldn't say those words without flinching, and apparently Bae couldn't hear them without doing the same. "I was looking for a magic bean, and ran afoul of Hook. But your mother intervened before I could kill him."

"So you killed her instead?"

Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the viciously angry look on Milah's face. It had been the same one she'd worn every time she looked at him after he'd returned from war a cripple, except when she was glaring at him in disappointment. That look had brought him back to being that crippled and helpless coward, but it hadn't been the words of "I never loved you" that had set him off.

"I didn't intend to," Rumplestiltskin answered quietly, opening his eyes and shaking himself free of the memory. "By then, I didn't really care that she was some pirate's lover. Part of me was even happy that she had lived. But then I asked her how she could leave you, how she could abandon her own son." He shrugged, because even now Milah's answer did not compute. "She only said that she was miserable. That she'd never loved me. Like…you didn't matter at all."

No son needed to hear that, but he knew that Baelfire wanted the truth. Tellingly, he couldn't even see surprise on his son's face, just resigned acceptance. Bae merely looked sad, but not even disappointed. After a moment, Rumplestiltskin reached out and tentatively touched Bae's arm, and was so glad when he didn't pull away.

"Something snapped in me when she said that. I didn't care if she didn't love me—I'd known that for years. But I never thought she could leave you, and the wound of having let you down, just like she did, was too fresh," he explained. "Before I knew it, I had ripped her heart out, and I killed her."

"Oh."

"I'm…I'm sorry, Bae," he whispered. "I loved her, once, even if that soured. Still, she deserved better than to have her heart crushed when I couldn't stop myself."

"Killian implied it was because she ran away with him," Bae said after a moment. "He's wanted revenge ever since."

Rumplestiltskin snorted. "When I thought he'd kidnapped her and had her killed, yes, I wanted to kill him. After I learned that she went with him willingly, I never really gave him a second thought."

Somehow, that made Baelfire laugh. "He's always been a little self-centered."

"Surprise, surprise," Rumplestiltskin said dryly, and then ventured a question of his own. "You, uh, met him in Neverland?"

"Yeah. Nasty place, that."

"I know."

They studied one another in silence for a moment, and Rumplestiltskin sensed that his son didn't want to discuss his experiences in Neverland any more than Rumplestiltskin wanted to explain his own. Finally, Bae said:

"I can't say I'm not a little angry, Papa…but that's kind of something I feel more because I should than because I do." He bit his lip, and shrugged. "I barely remember her, y'know? She was never there, and you always were. That's why I was so mad at you for changing, because you were the only real parent I ever had."

Blinking back sudden tears, Rumplestiltskin had to take a shuddering breath to keep his emotions in check. "Bae…I can't promise to be like I was, but I can promise that I won't ever let the darkness take me over like that again. Not with you here."

"I hope Belle and Gabi help a bit with that, too," Bae replied, but he smiled when he said it.

"They do."

"Good. Because, uh, I kind of like having you back. It's nice," his son said, and Rumplestiltskin's voice wasn't the only one thick with emotion.

He wasn't sure which of them moved first, but Rumplestiltskin found himself with his son in his arms, and they embraced one another tightly. Several moments passed before either of them said anything.

"I like having you back, too," he whispered.

"Enough to pay for my wedding?" Bae quipped, and Rumplestiltskin pulled back to laugh. "I mean, I hear you are the richest guy in town."

"Of course I'll pay for it," he said, forgoing the opportunity to point out how that was supposed to be the Charmings' job. His son was getting married to a woman he loved. That was what mattered, and Rumplestiltskin would do everything he could to make sure that marriage was a happy one.

{**********}

A/N: Oh, my goodness. This is the second to last chapter—I can't believe we've come so far!

Next up: Chapter One Hundred and Two—"That Which You Found", in which Greg and Tamara return, Emma goes looking for the urn, and Storybrooke finally settles down to celebrate a little.