Gideon was ... well ... giddy . It was ridiculous and wonderful all at once. Was this what the stories his mother used to read to him were talking about? Was this love ?

As Gideon mused on the theories of affection and euphoria and Neal, the young Charming was sipping absently at a mug of hot chocolate with cinnamon as he numbly mused on...everything, such as his mother's shocking cruelty to his and Gideon's relationship and Gideon himself, Neal's own shocking rage-inspired revelations to her, and, of course, the commencement of his and Gideon's...physical relationship. It was sooner than he had thought or wanted to start one, but he'd wanted to feel something other than anger and hurt and Gideon was hurting too. They spent the first night holed up in their clocktower hideaway before transferring to a room at Granny's where they stayed the better part of three days.

"Neal?"

Neal jerked, both at the slightly loud call of his name from across the table and the owner of the voice's hand touching his. The jolt caused the cup of coffee to tremble in his hand and spill slightly on the table. Neal yelped and kicked the leg of the table, the sound loud enough to attract the attention of Granny's patrons.

Gideon smothered a smirk and suddenly found interest in the diner's wall art. Neal struggled to pull napkins from the dispenser as his ears and cheeks burned. Gideon reached over and had a pile in his hand in a second.

"Thanks," Neal muttered gruffly.

Gideon folded his hands beside his clean finished plate. He wanted to reach out for his hand again but Neal seemed agitated. "Would you like to talk about the other night now?"

Neal sighed, attempting to calm down. "No. I mean yes, but...I don't know. I think I need to think on it some more."

"Yes, of course." Gideon nodded, successfully blocking the image of Snow White's piercing eyes from his mind. He hoped his mother was okay. He finally sent her a text that he was safe and he would visit her for lunch soon. Oh, he needed to text Robyn too. Should he tell her about him and Neal?

Dorothy sauntered over then, nudging Neal with her serving tray.

"Hey dudes, you want anything else? If you wait another 20 minutes you can get the first piece of Granny's pie before the lunch rush."

Gideon smiled tiredly. "We'll just take the check, thanks."

Dorothy nodded, casting a concerned look at both men again as she went to grab the ticket. Neal glanced uneasily at Gideon. He hated this. He should be the happiest he's ever been but he felt so sour inside.

Sighing, he reached out to tap his knuckle against Gideon's.

"I'm sorry." he tried.

"I understand. I'm fine really." Gideon answered, turning his hand over so their fingers brushed. He wanted to grip Neal's hand until their warmth became one, maybe absorb all the hurt he was feeling. He could bear it.

Neal's thumbnail circled a light freckle on Gideon's pinky knuckle. "I want to talk to my parents, but I'm worried if I see my mom right now, I'll start screaming all over again."

Gideon's cheeks pinked when he traced a rough callous on his index fingers, remembering how they felt on his back and neck. Neal's hands were worn from and strong from years of hard work on his family's sheep farm. Gideon's fingers were long, his nails free of grime and neatly trimmed. He did have a few scars from a mishandle during a spell or a papercut from a book. Neal would get a kick out of that.

"Maybe you should write out your feelings, write her a letter."

Neal snorted. "Of course words would be your solutions."

Gideon frowned but he was happy to see him display some joy.

"I'm serious. It's something my parents do when they have disagreements. It's obviously helping. Their insufferably in love."

Neal flicked at a few grains of spilled sugar, wondering what it must feel like to be so minuscule and breakable.

"Well, they certainly get along better than mine are right now."

"Your parents will be fine, Neal. It's them ."

Neal nodded. He knew from the tales and legends of his parents that they always found each other. And true love and all that. The young Charming wondered if his relationship with them would stand that kind of weather. He and his father had always been closer. David was patient and always Neal's first go-to during a crisis. The only kink in their relationship was that David always told Snow about Neal's follies eventually. Granted it was usually long after the fact to be safe, but whenever he caught his mother's sharp gaze, he knew a secret had been spilt.

His relationship with his mother was...similar. Of course, Neal had learned from an early age that his mother too could not keep a secret to save her life, so he kept his darker secrets with Robyn and Gideon. Neal also knew Snow White's greatest downfall was — as Rumplestiltskin once quipped in the confines of his shop when he was teaching him and Gideon a secret spell — she never quite filtered the regal out of her blood.

Snow White had stepped down as queen and mayor to raise a family yet somehow had the pettiness of a high-born brat, especially when it came to the Golds. The other night's revelation finally revealed her beef was more with Rumplestiltskin than anyone, but Gideon still got struck by her ire. Yet, it was she, as Belle would recall in memories (and Rumple in sour mutterings) that it was Snow White who often entrusted Neal to the Gold's company. In Neal's eyes, that made her irresponsibly blame the Golds for his glance at the darkness.

And there was the fact she hit him.

The coffee Neal had drunk curdled as he and Gideon strolled down Main Street. That creature who struck him had been unrecognizable until his head cleared. It was the same woman who – before their relationship just ... changed – used to pick him up and swing him in the air in their living room and who made him hot chocolate with cinnamon 'just because'. She scared him. He wasn't sure he could look at her anymore.

"I'm going to stop by Dad's shop," Gideon said. "Why don't you come? He keeps the good scotch in the safe and I know the code."

Neal shook his head, his attention shifting back to a darker place. "I think I better get this over with."

Gideon nodded and reached out cautiously for his hand. "Of course. I can go with you."

Neal snatched his hand from Gideon's. "I need to go alone," he said, unable to smother the sourness in his tone. Pushing Gideon away was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was so frustrated at his mother he couldn't think.

Gideon pulled back, trying to avoid the sting of Neal's rejection. He was hurting, he reminded himself. He had to be patient, understanding, but right now Gideon could only feel the urge to curl away from him.

"I'll call you then." Gideon decided. Neal nodded curtly, turning to the opposite street and leaving Gideon to stare after him until he was a speck, and then nothing at all. He completely missed how Gideon had leaned down to kiss him.

The youngest Gold swallowed the lump threatening to leap from his vocal chords. He didn't know what to do. What if Neal couldn't recover from this?

He looked ahead to his parents' respected businesses and was torn on who to go to. He had to be careful when approaching Rumplestiltskin when he was hurt, as the Dark One's first instinct was to turn any threat into a snail, ask questions later. Belle was a force on her own and the last thing he wanted was a rift between her and her unofficial godson. His mind shifted to Dante and a cry cracked from his throat. The last time he saw her she was sobbing to her room and he had yet to check on her. What kind of a brother was he?

He reached for his cell phone, barely able to get to Robyn's contact with how hard his fingers were shaking.

She picked up on the first ring.

"I'm kicking both your asses when I see you," She greeted harshly. The sound that left Gideon's throat was the lovechild of a bitter laugh and a pre-meltdown sob.

"Oh," she said. "Oh shit, who fucked up?"

"Can we talk?" he said quietly. He heard a series of clatters, swears and finally a muffled shout to her mother of her whereabouts for the next several hours.

"Don't move, I'll find you."

~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~

Neal approached the Charming family farmhouse the same way a stray animal approached a human with an offering of food – he expected to be attacked at any moment, banked on it at that, but starvation made the skittery of creatures risk injury for a morsel.

His fingers trailed over the wire fence along the walkway where over a dozen freshly sheared sheep grazed the abundant grass. Floppsy, the farm's oldest ewe, trotted up to him instantly and nuzzled Neal's hip, mewing up at him gently. He gave her a quick scratch, gaining the final dose of courage to enter his home and face his parents.

"Mom? Dad?" he called out, only silence greeting him back. He walked into the kitchen to find the sink free of breakfast dishes and a cold coffee pot. However, there was a neatly folded letter on the worn, oak table with his name written in his mother's handwriting.

He took a deep breath and opened it, finding three pages of Snow White's familiar scrawl bearing her soul.

Dear son,

When you came into this world, you brought a love into my heart that I never experienced before, not even with your father or sister. When Emma was born, I was only able to hold her for a moment and letting her go broke me in a way I don't think I truely recovered from. Looking back, I can comfortably say it was a desperate, frantic kind of love, and it was so consuming that I needed you with me every second of every day. I know now it wasn't the best love for you. I keep thinking about what you said about you being the son of Snow White. You are my son, Neal, and for so long I only saw the brighter parts of that role. It took losing you to realize there could be downsides to it as well.

Neal paused, shocked by his mother' candidness. She hadn't lost him. She didn't really think that, did she? Sure he was mad enough that the idea of seeing her face had him in him in a state of rage that was threatening his romantic relationship, but ... she was still his mom.

I also realize you've become your own leader. You have your own personality, your own thoughts and opinions, and your own way of handling things and people than me or even your father and it would take me a stack of paper to tell you just how proud of you I am.

Neal smiled at this. He tried for so many years to try to set himself apart from his parents and their reputations he never considered himself a leader, even when he was head quarterback and vice president of the theater club in high school. He just...did it, and things usually worked out.

You were a leader the other night Neal, whether you meant to be or not.

Neal's stomach dropped, but he kept reading.

You stood up to me in a way no one has, not even your father, and it put a lot of things in perspective. I'm so sorry for the things I said to you and Gideon, and for hurting you the way I did. Asking for either of your forgiveness is out of the question, I know this, and I'm not expecting it. But I want you to know that I am so happy that you two found each other. There is nothing more important in this world than love, Neal, and it must be protected and cherished always.

Neal's throat tightened as he remembered the heartsick look on Gideon's face as he pulled away from him.

Our fight also helped me realize just how much I've hurt your sister as well, which leads to this letter. I've realized I also gave Emma the wrong kind of love, and its far past time I've loved her right. Your father and I are venturing to Mist Haven to find her. If she's not there then we'll search for her wherever she may be. I know I should have told you in person, but honestly, I couldn't stand the thought of facing you after what I did. I hope you can forgive me for this too.

The last thing I want you to know, my son, is that our family always finds each other, and we will find your sister.

I love you so much Neal, and I am so proud to be your mother. I can't wait until we find each other again.

—Love, Mom

Neal stared at those last two words for ages. When he looked up again, the sun was setting and the kitchen was bathed in a rich orange. He stood, holding the letter as the anger that had built up in the last three days melted into a thick hurt. His parents were gone. Well, not gone, just now here. Not home.

Neal looked around the kitchen that had once been filled with family meals, frustrating nights of homework and plenty of talks with his parents. Good ones, even with his mom.

Of course he knew she loved him but the revelations in her letter had shaken him in a way he couldn't explain. She was gone and he had no idea when or if they would come back and there was so much he needed to say but he didn't know how—

He paused as this grief began to escape without his permission. He wanted to call his dad. Fuck, he wanted to call his mom. And he tried and the call wouldn't go through. Should he call Gideon? Aunt Belle or Rumplestiltskin? How did he deal with these feelings? How did he...

He looked down at the papers crumpled in his hand, laying them out on the table and soothed out as many of the wrinkles as he could.

A letter. He would write a letter, like his mom did. Gideon was right, he realized, and he cried bitterly at the knowledge. He'd have to write one to him at this rate.

It took some time, but Neal finally pulled himself together enough to locate a pen and paper. The blank page glared at him, taunting him with his anger and guilt. He wouldn't let it win, he decided as the ink of his pen bled onto the paper, two little words forming from his triumph.

Dear Mom ...

~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~

Leave Neal alone, he's going through a lot.

So I finally updated this fic T-T. It's been what, ten years? Well, thank House_of_the_Who on A03 whose comment gave me a great push.