4.

Mr Gold liked to think he had a pretty good idea of what happened around him in Storybrooke. He didn't frequent the usual places of gossip - places like Granny's, the White Rabbit, or the corner of any given street - but he heard enough. He certainly knew enough to have half the town or more on their knees should he ever choose to have them there, but he did not know who any of the three men that had entered his shop that late afternoon were. He didn't know what they wanted and when one of them claimed that another one was his son he had told them to get out. He wasn't in the mood for playing games then or any other day of the week, so they might as well have left.

He didn't know what he'd done to these nutcases or what could have possibly possessed them to pull a gun on him, but it wasn't a robbery. He'd had a couple of fools try to rob him every now and again, but he kept a pistol on hand to protect himself and his store. These men didn't seem to have any interest in money, though, but were aiming at him as if he'd somehow wronged them. He didn't even know them.

Then there was the boy. Well, he was more of a young man, really, likely just barely out of his teens and looked as if he'd been fed one hell of a lie to get him there, though to what end Gold couldn't possibly fathom. He saw the gun when the pawnbroker did, though, and could move faster. Instead of moving away, he jumped as if to warn him, and Gold saw a streak of red that threw him off balance and into the counter, smacking his head against it hard enough to knock him out cold on the shop floor.

Mr Gold was nothing if he wasn't an opportunist. He took the moment of distraction to go for the gun under his side of the counter and the panic button that would alert the authorities. Well, authority. If Sheriff Graham Humbert was even at the station and not off doing heaven only knew what.

His fingers latched around the gun and he straightened, finding the intruder leveling his own. Gold didn't pause as he aimed and fired. The shot rang out through the shop and the man fell dead to the floor. The gun switched aim and the shop owner's expression never changed. "Don't even think about it, dear," he said firmly as he watched his eyes travel down to the gun that had been knocked out of his friend's hand upon impact. "Now, I'd like some answers as to what the two of you thought you might gain from this little adventure."

Wide, frightened eyes that were trying so hard to be brave turned up to him, then flickered down to the still-prone form of the young man that had likely saved Gold's life. "He needs help."

"You should get your priorities straight," the shop owner growled dangerously, but something set deep within him and it gnawed on him. The young man hadn't stirred since hitting his head against the hard counter. The bullet only grazed him, he was sure of that, but he should have come around by now. He had to make a choice, and it wasn't one he was fond of.

Gold let out a frustrated huff. "Well go on."

"W-what?" his would-be-attacker stuttered.

"Well I can hardly assume you won't try to shoot me the first chance you get, so leave."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then he eyed the shop owner like he expected him to shoot him in the back. When he backed away several steps and didn't die, he turned and took off, the bell nearly shaking itself off the door as it slammed off the cupboard and closed again.

Gold knelt by the young man, finding him finally coming around slowly. He blinked unfocused, dark eyes up and grimaced drowsily. "Papa?"

"You took quite a knock to the head. How many of me do you see?"

The answer was too garbled to be deciphered and Gold took that as a sign that there was no better choice. He stood, limped to the phone, and dialed. "Yes, this is Mr Gold over at the pawnshop. There was an attempted robbery. I need an ambulance and if you could try to round up Sheriff Humbert that would be grand. Thank you." He didn't give them time to respond as he set the phone back down on the receiver and found his injured guest looking as if he might by at least considering the idea of sitting up. He wouldn't get there, but that didn't always matter. "Hey now," he murmured. "I can't catch you if you fall over again."

The young man snorted softly, but didn't say anything. Gold didn't risk approaching him again lest that uneasy feeling take hold and not let go. He wanted the ambulance there, that way the boy could get the help he needed and they'd cart the dead thief away. He could be on his way to hiring someone to come in and clean up the mess for him and that was that. Tomorrow it'd be like nothing had ever happened. Business would open as usual and life would continue marching on to the exact same beat that it always had before. On and on without fail. Storybrooke was predictable, and one little odd day wouldn't change that.

Sirens filled the street and egged on the headache that threatened him. They came in, pronounced the dead man dead, and hauled the injured young man into the ambulance. He was much more lucid by that point, telling them that he felt much better, but they were persistent. He'd likely need stitches for the gash the bullet had left along his side and that concussion needed to be looked after into the evening hours. The sheriff wandered in about the time the rest of them were leaving and gave a low whistle. "Robbery?"

"They didn't make out with anything, if that's what you're asking," Gold answered shortly. He'd had quite enough excitement for the day.

"I spoke to the medic outside. They said you shot one of those boys?"

"The dead one, yes. He had a gun on me."

"Did he fire at you?"

"Yes. The lad - I didn't catch his name - that they just hauled off got in the way."

"Likely saved your life," Graham answered with a quirked eyebrow.

"Likely so. Listen, Sheriff, I understand you've a job to do, but so do I, and most of that has suddenly been replaced with the rather urgent need to get this blood up off my wooden floors before it stains."

The young sheriff blinked at him like he didn't really understand what he was saying. "I'll just need your statement."

"Three men came into my shop, the young man that left for the hospital seemed to have mistaken me for someone else, the other two became agitated, one pulled a gun, the young man jumped in the way. That was when I hit the panic button under my counter there and pulled my own gun."

"Did you give them any sort of warning?"

"Yes, the second man got a warning when I shot the first." He heaved a sigh. "I'm not one to stand around and leave myself a target, Sheriff. Unless you plan to arrest me for defending myself in my own shop…?"

"Of course not, Mr Gold."

"Then good day to you, Sheriff."

He watched the younger man leave and turned back to the floor with a frown. It really was a mess and in the end he might even have to add a rug just to make it presentable. That was what was putting him out of sorts, he assured himself, and not those strange eyes that somehow looked familiar. He was certain he'd never met the man that they belonged to before. He couldn't quite recall the name he'd given, but it shouldn't matter. None of it should matter. It would all smooth out into the same old boring Storybrooke anyway.

There had been a commotion down by Mr Gold's pawn shop, or at least that was the rumour going around. Regina had been in her office and had heard the sirens go blaring past, but it wasn't until she spoke to Sidney that she found out what details that there were to know. She'd heard plenty before she tracked down her pet reporter, of course, but those rumours ranged from saying that Gold had been shot and lay dying in the hospital to that he'd somehow managed to take on five attackers at once. That seemed to be Snow's little dwarf's favourite, but he had already started in on Happy Hour at Granny's by that point.

Sidney had a few facts to mix into the rumours, as he always did. There had been two attackers, three men. One, the deceased, was Kyle Matthews, a bookkeeper for several of the small businesses in Storybrooke. His accomplice was still unknown, but what really caught to mayor's attention was the third man. No one seemed to know him, even though he was currently in the hospital under watch for a concussion suffered during what was being referred to as a robbery. Whale hadn't released his patient's name to Sidney, so Regina had had to go to the hospital herself. Surely it was just some quiet soul that had never made enough of a racket here in Storybrooke to be noticed. No person from the Land Without Magic could find their town. Not after the terrible incident of that father and son. She'd been careful.

"Madame Mayor, what brings you here?" Whale asked in what almost might pass for a polite tone. Almost. He seemed rather hurried today.

"Dr Whale, I hear there was an incident in Mr Gold's shop earlier this afternoon."

"You'll have to speak to Gold or the sheriff on that, Regina. I've been here all day."

"It's your patient I'm here about. The young man that was in the shop when it was attacked?"

Whale sighed. "Mr Cassidy. Yeah, he's been fun. That knock to the head threw him for a real loop. He tried to tell Graham that Mother Superior had something to do with the attack. Crazy, huh? He seems to have settled back down and he should be good to give an actual statement by morning. We're just monitoring him now."

"Where's he from?"

"He has a driver's license from Oregon. Not sure how he got all the way over here, but I didn't ask either."

"Is he awake?"

"Should be. He's right around the corner, first door to your left. Neal Cassidy."

Regina didn't bother with a thank you as strode past him and towards the room he'd indicated. Neal Cassidy from Oregon. She knew of the state in the vague sort of way that she knew of Whale's own world. She'd never ventured outside of Storybrooke before and saw no reason to, and therefore had never been to the so-called West Coast. All she know was that there was a stranger in her town, and she didn't like strangers.

The young man was lying in bed with his eyes closed. He looked to be sleeping, and as Regina watched him she couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity. She couldn't place why he was familiar, only that he was, and when he opened his eyes and looked directly at her that feeling only deepened. Who the hell was this Neal Cassidy?

He swallowed hard. "You don't look like a nurse."

"That would be because I'm not. I'm the mayor."

That brought a confused look from him. "Okay? Listen... Apparently I hit my head pretty hard when I went down earlier and I'm still a little fuzzy on some details. Why would you be here?"

"Funny enough, that was my question," Regina answered tightly, crossing her arms and waiting for an answer. When it didn't come she frowned. "You're in my town."

"Well, yes, your majesty, I guess I am."

She stared at him. "Excuse me?" she managed through her shock.

"Damn, you people are uptight. Nothing, Mayor…."

"Mills. Mayor Mills. And I'm most certainly the mayor, not the queen," she huffed, her mind spinning on how he'd known. He was an outsider. How could he have?

"Didn't think you were. You people don't really get sarcasm here, do you?"

She blinked. He wasn't going to give her answers like this, and Regina needed answers. He shouldn't even have been there in Storybrooke, and she needed to know how he should be dealt with quickly. If she didn't, he might disrupt everything. His very presence was already causing a stir. "I'm sorry," she said with a false sweetness. "I'm sure you're not feeling well. I understand that you saved Mr Gold's life today."

"Mr Gold?" he repeated, his voice sad. "Is that what they're calling him?"

"Do you know him as something else?"

He wouldn't meet her eyes, but instead turned his dark gaze towards the bedsheets. Regina actually felt the smallest twinges of pity for him. He looked so lost there, as if his whole world had come crashing down around him. "He doesn't remember me anyway," he whispered after a moment.

"Who is he to you?"

"You wouldn't believe me anyway, and at this point I just want to get out of here. That doctor was already looking at me like I'm crazy."

Regina took a seat in the empty chair by the bed. "I've heard and seen some crazy things. Try me."

"He's my dad," Neal Cassidy murmured and the Evil Queen could only stare at him in shock.

"Rumple has a son?" she managed and his eyes snapped up to meet hers. It was unmistakable now. The face he wore in this world must have been the one he'd worn before becoming the Dark One. Those eyes and other subtle details all worked together to prove what this man was saying, no matter how insane it sounded.

"You know him? You know his real name?" He sat straight up in his bed and winced at his movements. "What the hell is going on in this town? August Booth showed up in Portland, Oregon, and said my dad was in trouble. I get here and he doesn't remember me and no one seems to have heard of August."

"I don't know him either," she admitted and leaned forward. "As for your father... That's a bit more complicated. Where were you born, Mr Cassidy?"

His gaze faltered again and she knew how crazy it might sound. "Was it somewhere in the Enchanted Forest?"

"The Frontlands," he confirmed.

Regina turned her nose up a little. Rumple was from the Frontlands, was he? Interesting. No one of any consequence ever came from there, it seemed. No wonder he'd never mentioned it before.

"August said he came looking for me."

"You've been here? In the Land Without Magic?"

"Yeah. It's... kind of a long story, but we were separated when I was a kid. Is he really here for me? He acted like he didn't even know me."

Regina had always had a sneaky suspicion that Rumple had ulterior motives behind the Dark Curse. He'd set everything up so nicely, ushered everything into just the right place, and had told her what she needed to do to find her revenge. Then she had cast it, bringing him to a world that he had no access to without it and now she knew why he couldn't cast it himself. He would have had to sacrifice the child he was looking for. Who knew that Rumplestiltskin could be so sentimental?

"He doesn't know you because he's under the same curse that most people in Storybrooke are. When it brought us to this world it erased our memories and replaced them with new lives."

He stared at her. "Are you saying my papa is gone? All that's left is the man I met today?"

"Oh, he's likely buried somewhere deep down in there. He wrote the curse after all. If he's really here to find you, he'll have a way to wake up." And when he did, Regina was going to make sure to have his darling son well on her side. She and her former mentor had had their differences in the past, but she knew that he made a better ally than enemy. A safer one, if nothing else.

"I guess that's what those guys wanted. They thought I could... I don't know. Wake him up?"

"The man that took a shot at him? I heard about that. Do you know who attacked your father? The curse put me down in the place of mayor. I might be able to help you protect him."

"For what price?"

Regina chuckled. "You really are Rumple's son, aren't you? We were friends. I don't want to see him hurt, especially if he can't defend himself." She smiled sweetly and this poor man seemed to have latched onto the conversation like they were the only two sane people left in the world. In a way, they were, but it kept him from asking obvious questions like why she was one of the only ones that remembered their home and who she was. "Do you know who tried to hurt your father?"

Neal Cassidy frowned. "I think it was the Blue Fairy. That's who I met when I came here, and she introduced me to some other guys, and they shuffled me off to the guys that took me to that pawn shop. That's crazy, though. She wouldn't actually hurt my papa, would she?"

"If there's one thing I've learned about the Blue Fairy over the years it's that she's capable of just about anything." She straightened her back and her smile spread just a little more. "I'm sure you'd like to get some rest. I'll come visit you again tomorrow if you'd like and we can find a way to help your papa."

"Thanks, Mayor Mills. It's good to know I'm not the only one that gets it."

"Regina, please. And what should I call you? Neal's hardly a name from our home."

He offered a crooked smile. "No, it's not. Baelfire was the name my mother gave me, but I haven't gone by it in years. Neal's fine."

"Well, Neal," Regina said as she stood. "Welcome to Storybrooke. I'll see you in the morning.

Rumplestiltskin's son being in Storybrooke was most certainly a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Regina was quite certain she could turn this to her utmost advantage. She couldn't have Rumple dying, after all. Where would the fun be in that?

He hadn't meant to drop by the hospital on the way home, not that it was really on the way. Cleaning and straightening after that mess that day had taken longer than he had anticipated, as he found he didn't trust the people he'd hired to clean his floors to do the job without him there. They hadn't finished up until well past dinner time, and by the time he walked through the doors and into the hospital, he found no one sitting at the little circulation desk to direct him where to go. He'd been about ready to turn around and leave again when a voice stopped him.

"Mr Gold? Can I help you with something?"

Mary Margaret Blanchard was the name that his mind supplied to him. She was a school teacher or something like that. She rented a loft from him in a small building with five other units in it and always paid on time. Other than that he knew nothing about her, other than the fact that it had been her chipper little voice that had stopped his hasty retreat.

"It would appear that I missed visiting hours," he said stiffly.

A very small frown pulled at her lips. "By several hours," she confirmed. "Are you here to see the young man that saved your life? The whole town's just buzzing with it."

Great. Just what Gold wanted, to be part of the town's buzz. "I thought I'd check in for a moment, but it is late. I'll just-"

"I can get you in. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you. He was asking about you - well, once he came all the way around, anyway - and asking if you were okay."

That was interesting. The lad had acted as if he knew Gold, but no matter how much the shop owner combed through his memories, he was certain that he had never met him.

"I can take you back there," Mary Margaret offered sweetly and he was stuck now.

"I don't even know his name," he told the volunteer.

"Neal Cassidy. Come on. You did come over here, after all."

He resisted the urge to grumble as he limped after the dark haired woman. The halls were nearly deserted with the exception of a nurse that nearly knocked them over in her haste to get somewhere. Mary Margaret led him to a room and pushed the door open. Gold clutched his cane tightly and waved the girl off even as young Mr Cassidy stirred. He was certain that hadn't been the name that he gave in the shop. There was something about him - other than the fact he had saved the elder man's life, he thought - that had him there. It was strange and he couldn't explain it. At least, he didn't want to think on it long enough to.

"Hey," the drowsy voice met him, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Mr Gold, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Good to see you're okay."

Gold quirked an eyebrow. He hardly knew why the lad should care, but he'd acted as if he'd known him before, or at least he had thought he had.

"Listen, I know I must have sounded kind of funny when I came in there," he said and he looked a little embarrassed with himself. "I... These guys sent someone to me saying that my dad was in some sort of trouble. I haven't seen him or spoken to him in a long time, and when I saw you... You look a lot like him."

Gold didn't know what to say so he shifted uncomfortably, positioning his cane directly in front of him like a barrier. "I don't have a son," he started and a rough laugh came from the injured young man.

"Yeah, you'd mentioned that before," he answered almost sadly and for the life of him Gold couldn't figure out why he felt so guilty. It wasn't his fault that this young man's father had gone off and left him or whatever the hell had happened between them. He didn't know, and he didn't want to know, he reminded himself firmly. He wouldn't be staying anyway. "Any idea who those guys were?"

"No, I didn't recognize them. I assume you've given your statement, little good it'll do?"

"No faith in the system here, huh?" Neal chuckled.

A small smile managed to perk at his lips. "Not so much. I don't want to keep you. I just… wanted to thank you. For saving my life today, of course."

Neal returned the smile, though his was a little more lopsided. "Sure."

An uncomfortable silence spread between them and Gold cleared his throat. "Well then, be safe traveling back to wherever you're from," he said abruptly and turned. If Neal said anything more he didn't hear it as he scurried out as fast as his weak leg would allow and rounded the corner so fast that he nearly took Mary Margaret off her feet.

"How did it go?" she asked, repositioning her purse on her shoulder and looking like she was ready to leave for the night.

"It went, Miss Blanchard, now if you'll excuse me," Gold growled, ready to sidestep around.

"Mr Gold, did you even go in?" the usually very mousy little teacher asked and he thought it really was his luck that it would be his business she'd choose to jump in the middle of. Not that he wanted her there.

"Of course I did."

"It's not every day you get to thank the person that saved your life, Mr Gold. He could have been hurt a lot worse than he was or even killed."

"I don't know what concern it is of yours," he snapped, but it wasn't all on her and even he knew that. He was well aware that he owed the boy his life, but repaying that wasn't so easily done. One doesn't just drop off a pot of flowers or a card and call it a day. Better to leave it entirely alone with the attempted thank you than to continue to botch it up. He heaved a sigh and glanced back at towards the hall that led to the room, then to the pile of papers Mary Margaret was carrying. "What is all of that?"

She scrunched her nose up a little. "Just paperwork. He doesn't have any kind of insurance, so he's likely to get quite a bill over all of this."

Well, there was an answer if he'd ever seen one staring him in the face. Money had always been something he understood so much better than he did people and their need for emotional connections that landed them in more pain than they'd started. "Miss Blanchard, I believe I need a small favour from you if you have just a moment."

TBC

Notes:

Oh Regina. Trying to out-plan Rumple. You know, I'd forgotten how much I loved S1 Regina before I started in on this. She's a great deal of fun to write. Hope everyone had a fantastic New Years! If anyone is over on Tumblr there's a contest that's going on right now that will hopefully supply some really fun Rumbelle short stories over the next few weeks. You get to vote for your favourites and everything. It's under rumbelleshowdown . tumblr . com

It looks like a lot of fun. I think the first round of stories are supposed to be up in a week or so.

Also, in case anyone noticed, I've switched over the cover piece for this today. I just want to give credit to Chloris over on Tumblr ( thechloris . tumblr for the use of her amazing manip. Check out the rest of her awesome work if you get the chance!

Next time - Neal has to figure out who he can trust in this crazy little town while trying to find a way to reach his papa.