1.

The Enchanted Forest. Just before the curse.

He had a visitor. He could hear them speaking lowly with the guard at the end of the tunnel, even if he couldn't make out the voice itself. That was interesting. He never had visitors. Well, he thought with a little giggle, he had a precious few. Regina snuck in every now and again, though with her curse cast he knew he wouldn't see her again until they reached the Land Without Magic. Soon the smoke would fill his lungs and he would remember nothing of this life - of this pain - for the next twenty-eight years. Then he would be on his way to finding his son. He was so close he could almost taste it and that felt like a victory if there ever was one for people like him.

Regina wasn't the only visitor, of course. Snow and her oh-so charming prince had come only once to ask about the curse, and he supposed they counted. He'd gotten what he needed from them, at any rate. Emma. The name of their unborn child that would break the curse he'd spent the last three centuries writing and setting up. Emma. Emma. Emma. What a lovely name. He let another giggle creep up his throat and tumble from his lips as he wrapped his fingers around the bars of his cage and pressed his face against it as if he thought he could slip through.

"The prisoner is in solitary confinement for a reason," the strong voice of Rumplestiltskin's most-constant jailer floated down the rocky hall. Alexander was a tall man that never smiled. He had a military bearing, and even if the jailers under his authority might not know, the Dark One knew he came by it naturally.

Rumplestiltskin perked at the sound of something hitting the ground hard, as if someone of some bulk had collapsed suddenly and without warning. A shuffling sound indicated movement and he pressed his face just a little harder against the bars, straining to see. He hadn't been able to make out the second voice, only Alexander's, and though he had means to escape should he choose, his curse was severely limited within the cage. Even his Sight was spotty and unpredictable. He'd put on a show for the royal couple when they'd come to see him. He'd known most of the details before they'd locked him away. There'd be a girl - flashes of gold hair like her father's and a wit sharp as her mother's - and that she would be the one to break the curse. He just needed to make sure that he knew who he was when she arrived, lest Regina drive her away before he'd set all the pieces into play.

The shuffling drew closer and a smile crept to his lips. It pulled them wide, showing off his rotting teeth and reptilian eyes that showed his darkened soul on the outside. A giggling, mad laugh that always put his jailers on edge bubbled up. "Come closer, dearie," he called to the figure that was rounding the corner. He was a mountain of a man, cloaked in a long robe that reached the toes of his boots and shadowed the features of his face with the hood. He moved in long strides, though there was no hurry to his steps.

"They don't send visitor my way often," the caged Dark One said, his voice pitching up. "What a treat. Do come closer, dearie."

The visitor stepped forward until he was almost near enough for Rumplestiltskin to reach out and touch. He lifted a hand up theatrically, an ornate ring decorating it, and lifted the hood. "Your false madness does not frighten me, Dark One," he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Rumplestiltskin stumbled back in rare surprise, fingers instantly releasing the bars. His golden eyes met the milky white ones that gazed sightlessly at him, the skin around them still scarred from a dangerous and nasty curse that had once made it past his incredible powerful protections. A curse that Rumplestiltskin had cast many, many years before. "Magnus," he breathed the clerics name, finally pulling his control back to himself and he allowed his lips to twitch upward, though the madness he showed the guards day in and day out since his so-called capture was far from that smile. He couldn't be sure what would happen should this come to blows. His magic was only bound within his cage, though getting past the cleric could pose some trouble if he were not at his full potential. "To what do I owe this little visit?" he asked, his voice steadier than he'd really expected it to be.

Magnus leaned closer and he carried power with him as he did. It leapt off him, biting at the Dark One as if warning him what the larger man could do if he so chose. "Your curse has been cast."

Well, he never had been one to hedge around his purpose. "Then you know there's nothing can stop it. You're too late."

"I am aware, though you have failed as well."

"How so?" He'd worked hard to keep Magnus and his clerics from the Land Without Magic. They would remain in the Enchanted Forest where they couldn't get in the way. He wouldn't let these people stop him short of his goal. He wouldn't let them stop him from reaching Bae.

"You are not the only power in this place capable of finding paths not often traveled."

"Speak plainly, Magnus," Rumplestiltskin growled, his temper getting the better of him. He couldn't have found a loophole to come through with him. He couldn't.

The cleric leaned in closely and Rumplestiltskin could feel his magic reaching out, trying to take hold of him, though the wards that kept his own dark magic at bay also weakened Magnus' as well. "We cannot allow you to succeed in your unholy endeavours."

"You know nothing of my endeavours."

Magnus reached out suddenly, his large hand wrapping around Rumplestiltskin's thin neck and he dragged him forward so that he slammed into the bars of his cage, those sightless eyes fixated on him. He didn't need to see him. His magic took care of that for him. "We will meet again, Dark One. On the other side of your curse."

"You found a way through," the caged man whispered.

"You may not know me when we meet, but I will know you, Dark One. I will always know you, and in this land without magic, I will finally be able to destroy you."

Then he was gone, vanished in a swirl of magic and Rumplestiltskin saw the smoke beginning to drift down and through the corridor. It was too late. There was no stopping Mangus or his clerics from coming through, and if he truly had found a way to remember him then he could very likely kill him long before Emma came to wake him up.

The Dark One stumbled back as his curse began to drift into the cell, magic breaking through the wards and shattering them. Power crackled through the air, electric and dangerous. There was no time. There was no stopping them. All that he could do was hope beyond hope that he'd fixed the curse down tightly enough that their memories would be stripped with the rest of them. There was no reason for Regina to betray him to them. No, he thought as the walls of his cage began to shake and crumble around him, they couldn't possibly remember him. He would have a fighting chance, and as long as he had that, he would survive. He always did.

Storybrooke. 2000.

The first and the middle of the month was always the busiest. While a precious few of his renters - which really did cover a good number of the small town's residents - dropped rent checks into his mailslot at the shop, most simply waited until he came around to pick the rent up from them personally. He couldn't imagine why. No one seemed to like him dropping by and it would be so much simpler for them to deliver the money to him rather than make him limp all over town to collect. Habits were a difficult thing to break in Storybrooke though, and most of his tenants had been handling rent collections this way for as long as they could remember, so there really was no reason to change the process now.

That was how Mr Gold found himself limping along the main street as he did every month about this time. He had his own ritual, of course. He started at the earliest hours of the day that he felt he could reasonably find people stirring in their homes, moved to a few of the businesses during the early morning, went back to the pawn shop to open up for a short business day that only saw one or two lookers if he was lucky, and then returned to his collections in the evening. He was wrapping up his morning run when he opened the door to Granny's Diner, gaining a few interested looks as he moved through. Most simply turned back to their lunches, one or two nodded or offered a strained smile, and one little maid took off for the back room in a hurry and avoided any eye contact with him at all.

"Mr Gold," the aging woman that ran both the diner and the inn greeted tightly. "We didn't expect you by till evening. I'll go grab your money from the back."

He wasn't sure why. He came at the same time every month without fail. "Thank you, dear," he answered and took a seat at a corner table with his back to the wall. His gaze swept over the crowd and a frown tugged at his lips. They really were all creatures of habit. He saw the same faces that day that he saw at that time the month before, and the month before that, and the month before that, and so on. Sometimes small town living felt like an endless loop, but Mr Gold wasn't complaining. He rather enjoyed the predictability of it all. He supposed he might not if he held any less power than he did, but he more or less owned the town. Predictability was good for business. No matter how they moaned and complained, his tenants paid - mostly on time with a couple of exceptions. It wasn't as if they had many options in their town.

Ruby moved through the swinging doors from the kitchen with a tray of food balanced on one hand and a menu in the other. She set the tray of food down at a table with Dr Hopper and Marco before moving over to Gold's table. She set the menu down in front of him and pulled a collection of rolled bills from her apron, handing it forward without really meeting his eyes. "It's all there," she promised.

"Yes, of course it is, dear. I'll have the burger and an iced tea if you don't mind."

"I'll get it right out," the young waitress said quickly as she ducked away.

The door chimed and Gold suppressed a groan. That was just one more thing that happened in regular intervals. This one just happened to be once a year when he raised the rent on those damn nuns. One would think that they would see it coming since it was a yearly occurrence, but every year he received the same complaints from their lead nun that made him want to raise it enough to run them out and be done with it. He hadn't done it yet, but the threat always hung heavily between them.

Mother Superior strode in. She seemed to have no trouble finding him though he'd been required to tack the notice to the door that morning because no one would answer the door. It appeared to be the same notice she currently held in her hand. "Mr Gold, if you have a moment?"

"I was actually about to have lunch, but you feel free to barge on in on that."

"Thank you," she said as if she'd never heard sarcasm before in her life. She took the seat opposite from him and pushed the legal document forward. "I'd like you to reconsider this."

"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Mr Gold responded easily and slid it back towards her. "It isn't as if you were unaware that I raise rents every year. I can hardly offer you preferential treatment."

"This is more than usual."

"Then leave, Mother Superior. I don't force you to rent from me. I have several parties that would be more than happy to take on that small a number for the space you have. Not to mention the land."

She scowled at him. "It's a cemetery that we upkeep as part of our duty towards the community."

Mr Gold shrugged as Ruby set his order down in front of him. "Either pay it or don't. If you don't, though, and you don't leave... Well, evictions are a messy business that neither of us have time for. You could always buy the property from me. I'll even include the land in it."

"You know we can't afford that," Mother Superior answered tightly.

"Then shall I be expecting your notice, dear?"

She was fuming at him, but he had her. He knew he did. She wasn't quite the negotiator that she fancied herself with her too-sweet smile and voice that had always struck Gold as fake. "No," she said at last. "We can't take a smaller place, and as you're really the only landlord in town..."

"I'll work up the new lease papers then. Always a pleasure doing business with you." He paused, a smile stretching his lips. "Should I expect you to be dropping off this month's rent now or by the shop later?"

"You're welcome to come by the convent and pick up the money at your convenience," she answered in a snappy voice that hardly invited any feelings of goodwill, and when she stood and straightened her frock, her movements were as agitated as her voice was. "It's a wonder how you get through life as cold as you are, Mr Gold," she snapped. "Perhaps one day your soul will be freed of your selfish and cruel nature."

He snorted, but said nothing as she turned and stormed out of the diner. Well, he supposed that in the grand scheme of things that was likely one of the less-threatening angry responses he'd received. He'd had more than one person yell at him for as long as he'd let them, but it never quite phased him. He'd done business the same as long as he'd lived in Storybrooke, and it had served him well enough all the days he could remember and likely would for all the years that were to come.

Gold had been certain he'd locked the shop when he'd left from it that morning with his list of monies owed, but there was a customer inside pursuing when he walked in. There was no sign of forced entry, not that the tall blond seem to be acting suspiciously while looking through a set of maps folded on a shelf of a cupboard. Instead, he merely looked curious, perusing the different crinkled parchments.

"Can I help you?"

The blond turned, his pale eyes blinking in a startled way. Gold recognized him as Peter Kurtz, one of the few other lawyers in town. He offered a smile after a moment. "Oh. Hello. I suppose I thought you were in the back."

Gold didn't answer right away, but instead did what he could to crush a suspicious sort of feeling down. He didn't have a great deal of knowledge on Kurtz - an oddity, really, as he kept very detailed mental notes on just about everyone - other than that he rented a small, four bedroom house from Gold down by the ocean with three other men that worked in three different jobs across Storybrooke. While the landlord was certain that he'd met each tenant upon move in he couldn't recall their faces now, and the fact that Kurtz handled the rent and dropped by once a year for the updated lease did help to push the others to the back of his memory. As far back as he could recall, though, Kurtz had never been interested in shopping in his pawnshop.

The younger man cleared his throat uncomfortably and fished a thin, white envelope from his inside jacket pocket. "The rent," he explained as he handed it over. "I'm sure if you dropped by this morning you found no one home. We all had an early start today, though I'm sure you don't care to know about all of that."

"Not particularly," Gold agreed as he took the money. "Thank you."

"Of course. Didn't want to be late with it."

Gold had expected him to leave then, but Kurtz remained, eying him in a funny sort of way as if he had a question he was toying with before asking. He pulled in a breath then and locked his hands behind his back, pale eyes focused in. "How many years have we rented from you, Mr Gold?"

The shop owner moved past him, cane tapping against the wooden floor. "Some years now."

"How many?"

He paused at the edge of the display case and turned. "I'm afraid I don't know off the top of my head. I'd have to look at the paperwork."

Kurtz shot him an odd look. "You can't recall even an estimate?"

Gold glared, unsure of what this was really about. "I'm afraid I can't. Come back tomorrow and I'll have the documents lined up for you if it's that important."

The blond was watching him again, but what he was looking for Gold couldn't be sure. "Thank you," he said at last and was gone, leaving him to his solitude and thoughts.

The rest of the day slunk on as it would have any other rent day. Gold remained at the shop, chased off some kids that thought it would be a good idea to try to lift what they must have thought was an expensive figurine, and finally closed up shop around five to start over towards the convent. The sun had already dipped in the mid December sky and left Storybrooke washed in its last lights of the day as Mr Gold pulled his old cadillac to the side of the street and unfolded himself stiffly. The weather was turning colder by the day, and it made his ankle nearly impossible to work with. It stiffened up on him constantly, sending the ache all the way up to his knee and sometimes further. He pushed past it as best he could that evening, deciding that this would be his last stop for the night.

Gold was limping his way to the front porch when he heard a rustling that caught his attention. He turned, startled by the mountain of a man that was moving towards him. It took a moment in the fading light for his eyes to focus, but when they did he saw the cane in the larger man's hand that was stretched out as if looking for obstacles in his path. Gold stood still and the man paused, tilting his head as if he were listening for something. "May I help you with something?" he asked, clearly listening for a response to gage where the visitor was.

"Just Mother Superior," Gold answered gruffly. "She owes rent."

The man went rigid, his expression darkening as he scowled in the landlord's general direction. "Mr Gold then," he said tightly and the smaller man could almost feel the sudden aggression rolling off of him. Apparently nothing kind was said about the nuns' landlord behind his back, because he was very certain he'd never met the man - therefore couldn't have actually done anything to warrant the hostility - standing before him. He was dressed like a groundskeeper, covered in mud from the knees down and is hands were covered in thick gloves as if he'd been down in the muck left after the rainstorm that had swept through the night before.

"Indeed I am," he answered after a moment. "If you'll excuse me?"

He turned, finding the nun in question standing at the top of the stairs leading to the wrap-around porch. She was eyeing him suspiciously, as if she hadn't been the one that told him to drop by for the rent. Finally, she pulled an envelope from her dress pocket and held it out, not bothering to come down the stairs to meet him with it. "Your money, Mr Gold."

Gold didn't dare let him own discomfort show as he hobbled forward and up the few stairs, taking the offered payment. "I'll have a carrier deliver the papers to be signed for the updated lease tomorrow afternoon. I'll need those returned within the week or I'll have to start making preparations to lease the property to someone else."

She continued to glare at him and didn't bother to say a word. A sharp nod was the only indication that she had bothered to listen to him at all and he started back down the wooden steps, waving over his shoulder to a nun that hated him and a man that couldn't see him. He had better things to do with his evenings.

"There are times that I think that man knows exactly who he is and is just toying with us," Mother Superior growled as she watched the cadillac drive away. It was everything she could do to remain civil around that creature.

"He doesn't know," Magnus - though the curse had given him the name Jacob Dawson and had placed him as a man that kept the grounds at the convent for the nuns - said without a shadow of doubt in his voice.

"He seemed to know you. Or at least that he should know you," the Blue Fairy said, brown eyes still glaring in the direction that the Dark One had driven.

"Some fears surpass even time and space," her companion answered ominously. He frowned thoughtfully. "Is everything in place?"

"Yes. I spoke to him just a few hours ago and he understands how precarious the situation is. He won't fail to bring him."

"We need him here, Ruel Ghorm, should we wish to move forward."

"I don't understand why you feel he should be himself for this," the fairy murmured and glanced his way. The question had been pulling on her since he'd asked her to make arrangements.

"Gold is inconsequential. He is a shell. Rumplestiltskin is the true enemy."

"And you think this will bring him around to himself?"

"Yes, I do," Magnis answered gruffly and turned. "We're in this together, Blue. The wheels are turning now and there's no stopping it. Contact me when the little puppet finds the boy."

She nodded before murmuring her acknowledgement. They were indeed in this together, and if all went as it should they would rid the worlds of one of the darkest curses to ever be formed. They could reach their goal, she was sure, as long as Magnus' growing obsession with a single and the most recent Dark One didn't overpower their carefully laid plans.

He had just landed in San Francisco when she contacted him a few days before. It hadn't been the first time she'd reached out to him. That had been about six months before - and he still didn't know how she'd gotten his contact information, much less remembered who he was - and again less than a month ago. That was when she had strongly encouraged him to return to the U.S. The threats hadn't been there then, and they weren't quite there yet, but August Booth knew how to read between the lines. He knew when he was being bullied into something, even if the bully wore a sugar-sweet smile and spoke about all the good that he was doing.

Just because he knew didn't change the fact that it worked.

August sighed as he paid the cabbie and pulled his jacket a little closer around his neck. Portland. Just where he didn't want to be. Why hasn't he just stayed in San Francisco, or better yet, in Europe? He'd been going nonstop since his plane touched down. Blue had given him two names. The first was what he went by and the second was the name she told him would act as proof if he needed it. He would argue, she'd warned, because this young man had been running away for a long time, but she had faith in August that he could make him see reason and, in turn, bring him to Storybrooke. If the fate of everything rested in it, the lead fairy hadn't said as much, but she'd certainly indicated that terrible things would happen should he fail - completely out of her control, of course - but should he succeed she might find a way of restoring him to his father. That damn fluttering sparkle bug had always known how to pull his strings.

Along with the names she'd given him what she said was all the information that she had, including several different locations that she understood that he might be. That had set him off on a trip that left him little time to sleep between the times that he met with contacts that this insanely resourceful fairy that was trapped inside a cursed town in Maine had set up for him. He'd just met with the final one an hour before and he had said that the man August was looking for was at the bar that the cab had just dropped him off at. He had been every other night that week, anyway. It was a good thing that his books were popular because the oldest power for good in the Enchanted Forest had a lot of information without a lot of money to back it up with.

He'd left Paris so fast that he had everything that he owned with him which really wasn't anything more than an old typewriter he lugged around. He'd wanted nothing more than to snag a hotel room and a handful of hours of sleep before going to the last place on his list of places he'd told himself he'd look before calling Blue up and telling her that this guy really was good at running and he was better than either of them would ever find.

August pushed the door open to the little pub and walked inside, taking a corner seat that gave him a good view of the room. It was marginally busy for early evening, but not so busy that he couldn't see people as they entered. He'd found people-watching was incredibly useful, no matter what world you were from, and the little boy that had come through a portal to see strange flying machines and other oddities had made a quick study just to survive.

"Are you who I think you are?"

August blinked, looking up at the pretty waitress that looked like she'd come over to take his order. A slow smile crossed his face. "Depends on who you think I am, I guess."

"August Booth. The writer, right? I knew it! I just started your third book in the Fallen Destiny series! I can barely put it down."

The author in question beamed. "Fourth straight week on the Bestseller list. Not to brag, of course."

"Would it be a total inconvenience for you to sign my book? After I get your drink, of course."

He chuckled, his bright blue eyes shifting to the door as it opened and saw a man twice his age enter. Nope, that wasn't the one. "Sure, but only if you do me a favour in return."

"Anything."

Well that could go so many fun places. He forced himself to focus. "I actually just got to town and I'm looking for an old friend of mine. Neal Cassidy. Last time I talked to him he mentioned this place so I thought I'd check it out and I was kind of hoping to run into him here."

"Oh yeah. I know Neal," the waitress chirped. "He's a nice guy. He and his girlfriend are in here pretty often when they're around. They should be in tonight."

"Perfect. Thanks."

"I'll just go get my book," she said quickly, darting off before August managed to get his drink ordered. He laughed and shook his head. Price of fame.

The door opened again and a couple came in. They were laughing and joking, the blonde wearing a grin like her boyfriend had said something hilarious. The waitress waved at them as she came from the back, book clutched in hand. "Neal, you didn't tell me you know August Booth? You know he's my favourite!"

The guy - apparently the guy that August had been looking for - turned, but it was the girlfriend that made his jaw drop. It has been several years since he'd checked in on her, and he hadn't recognized her with the glasses, but there was no mistaking the little girl he'd been sent through to protect. Emma Swan was all grown up now and was staring right at him.

TBC

Notes: I've been looking forward to this one for a while. Hope you enjoyed the beginning!

Also, thanks to Chloris over on Tumblr ( thechloris . tumblr for the use of her amazing manip for my cover image. Check out the rest of her awesome work if you get the chance!

Next time - August finds that he has to work harder than he'd expected to get Neal to come with him while, back in Storybrooke, Regina visits Gold's shop to try to find a distraction from the utter boredom.