5.

The Blue Fairy swept through the convent in a rage. It wasn't often that her temper flew out of check - she was the ultimate good of their world, after all - but she had heard a very disturbing rumour that morning. Not only was she uncomfortable with the actual event, but the fact that she hadn't heard until then worried her even more. Magnus was not living up to his word of working with her on this, but was taking things into his own hands. Blue liked to think she approached most problems in a level sort of manner, but this was outrageous. Magnus had assured her that he had everything under control. He had been meticulous - both before the curse was actually cast and in the seventeen years that they'd been there - in his planning. He had everything worked out and ready, he had just been waiting for Baelfire to wake Rumplestiltskin up. She still wasn't entirely sure why that was necessary, other than to put a bit of closure to the violent and terrible relationship that the lead cleric had developed with the current Dark One. She'd always thought that it could potentially cloud his judgement, but now she was certain of it.

She found him standing in one of the innermost rooms of the convent, appearing as if he were staring at the flames leaping out of the fireplace. He didn't acknowledge her, though she knew that he heard her enter, and she huffed irritatedly. She would not be ignored. "Your man shot Baelfire."

"I'm handling it," Magnus answered, not bothering to turn to her. "You needn't worry yourself over it."

"Handling it?" Blue demanded, circling around so that even if he couldn't look her in the eye, she could see his. "I'd very much like to know how. As far as I understand, Quinn is dead after nearly killing Baelfire. This was not-"

"Don't be absurd, Ruel Ghorm. The boy is fine, and it was his own doing that the bullet even clipped him."

"I think it's time you tell me what you know," Blue said tightly.

Magnus shrugged in response, and she was certain that he wasn't taking this seriously enough. Somehow he seemed to forget that this world was very different than their own. No one knew who the Dark One was here - even the Dark One himself - and it would be seen as murder should they be caught in it. She was willing to give everything to do away with the great evil that was the Dark One's Curse, but that didn't mean that they had to be utter fools in it.

"Caiden intercepted Ellis before he ran too far. The Dark One let him go to save his son. It may not have worked, he may not have woken up, but we are close." He perked, tilting his head toward her. "Have you visited him?"

"Baelfire? Absolutely not. He knows me, Magnus, and he was always a bright boy. It won't take a great deal for him to put everything together."

"He won't think you're the enemy."

"He will. His father will make sure of it." Blue sighed heavily, feeling a migraine working its way in. They had to regain control of this before it spiralled. "You must be more careful, Magnus."

"Quinn has paid the price for is foolishness and Ellis will not be linked to us. Do you still have the puppet?"

"Yes," the fairy answered, not liking the tone of his voice. "We asked that he stay last night. I meant to let him go to his father this afternoon."

"No. Not yet. Have him go to Baelfire instead."

"To what end?"

"To gain an understanding of where he stands." He turned, his shoulders squared and his head held high. "And Ruel Ghorm, do not let it be misunderstood. I will do what I have to to gain the puppet's loyalty. Hold tight to the strings or I will take them from you."

"Don't lose sight of what we've set to do," Blue warned quietly as she turned to the door. "We're ridding out world of evil. Don't slip off the edge yourself."

He didn't answer her and she knew a dismissal when she received one. Her frown deepened and she steeled herself for a conversation with Pinocchio.

Neal felt both better and worse when they released him from the hospital the next day. His headache was starting to ease, but his side still ached where the bullet had grazed him. No, he decided, ache wasn't the right word. Hurt, burned, and irritated came closer, but hey, at least it hadn't been a poisoned tipped arrow. Point for the small blessings in life.

Not to mention big ones. He'd been shocked to hear that the medical bill had already been paid, and when the nurse at the front refused to give him a name, he thought he knew who had done it.

"You look better today."

Neal turned to find Regina Mills smiling at him in that well rehearsed way. She'd been abrasive and cold when she'd first come into his hospital room the day before, but if she was the only person other than the Blue Fairy and her creepy friends that remembered who she was... well, Neal couldn't exactly blame her. "Yeah, besides the lasting headache and the fact that stitched are a total bitch," he chuckled.

"I don't know how I didn't see the resemblance before," the mayor remarked. "You really do favour your father quite a bit, you know."

Neal snorted. "What? Has he gotten more sarcastic?"

"Wasn't he always?"

"No, not really," he said thoughtfully, reaching back into memories long buried under layers of pain. His papa had always had a wit, sharper than anyone would have ever imagined, but he was afraid to use it. As a child it had been difficult to understand why the other villagers had hated him so much, and even now he wasn't sure he completely understood it. Not that Regina knew that man of course. She knew the Dark One, the devilish imp that had taken his father over in his attempt to save his son from a war that might or might not have killed him. She seemed nice enough, though, and his papa had come looking for him, so maybe before he'd lost his memories he'd found something more of himself amidst the darkness he'd been drowning in.

"Will you be staying?" Regina asked when he didn't say anything more.

"Yeah, for a little bit at least. I flew across the country to help my papa, and I'm not going to leave at the first sign of a problem."

"You're a brave one, aren't you?" the mayor mused and fished something out of her purse. She handed him a card with a number pressed into it and what he assumed was the town hall's address. "My card, in case you need to get ahold of me. I'm happy to do whatever I can to help."

"Thanks. Umm, a place to stay, maybe? Do you guys have a motel or something?"

"Granny's Inn is the only real hotel in town. It's connected to the diner."

He nodded, glancing down the direction that she indicated. He only had a bag with him and it hardly seemed worth the trouble if he was going to walk over to the shop after. Instead he repositioned the bag on his shoulder and offered the mayor a smile. "Thanks, Regina. It's...good to know I'm not going crazy."

She watched him a moment. "It can get lonely standing alone," she murmured with a sad smile. "Call me if you need anything."

He nodded and they parted ways. Suddenly he did feel very alone. It had seemed like such a good idea to waltz into the shop and offer to buy Mr Gold lunch as a thank you. That made sense, didn't it? It hadn't seemed quite so intimidating when he'd first decided on it, but now the shop might as well have been on top of the tallest mountain. He could leave, he knew, and he hardly thought anyone might have the right to blame him for it. His papa had betrayed him and left him to fend for himself. Rumplestiltskin had done him no favours once he'd let go, allowing his only son to slip down into the void so that he was tossed into another world. He'd been so focused on the fact that his father had come to this world for him and that he needed his help that he hadn't stopped too long to think on the fact that it had been at least two centuries and likely more. The moments his mind had wandered to it, he'd told himself that his papa could give him those answers, but now… now he wasn't sure. Maybe he should just turn and leave.

Neal stopped outside of Mr Gold's pawn shop and he hadn't felt so much like Baelfire in many, many years. His chest ached as he looked up at the sign and he told himself to turn around. Experience showed that his father would only disappoint him and hurt him again, and Emma was waiting for him. He loved her. He wanted a life with her. What kind of life could they have if he was constantly allowing his terrible, bitter past to invade his present?

It all made sense, but it wasn't sense that governed him as he reached forward and pushed the door in, walking over the threshold of the shop. He expected to feel a rush of something, just like he had the days after his papa had cast protection spells all over their little hovel to keep the world out, but nothing was there. This was the Land Without Magic and the only thing that announced his entrance was a little bell over the top of the door that rattled and clang, pulling the shop owner's attention over to him.

Mr Gold blinked. "Neal Cassidy. I expected you had gone home by this point."

"I thought I might stay," the younger man answered. "At least for a couple of days. Dr Whale wanted a follow-up anyway."

One dark eyebrow quirked upward, but Gold didn't say anything. He shrugged, and returned to the small figurine he had been polishing when the son he didn't know had entered. Neal pulled in a breath. There seemed to be less of the demon in him in this place, and if he dug deep enough, he might even find the man that he'd known below. This was something that he needed more than he could explain and more than he'd even allowed himself to think on in so many, many years, and somehow that bolstered his courage a little more. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did at the hospital. The nurse at the front told me that someone had paid the bill already."

"I don't know what you mean," came the automatic reaction, but he wouldn't turn to look at him.

A small smile played at the younger man's lips. "Uhhuh. Sure. You didn't have to, but I wanted to thank you. Let me buy you lunch?"

Dark brown eyes - very guarded, but still very familiar even after all the centuries - jerked up to look at him. "I thought that we agreed that we did not know each other, Mr Cassidy."

Neal blinked. "I just… wanted to say thank you."

"You saved my life. There's hardly any reason that you should bother with me past that. I have a shop to run, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, real busy today. I can tell." That received a glare and Neal offered him a crooked smile. "If I have to stay, you're the closest thing I have to an acquaintance here. You have to eat, right?"

"Why are you so determined?"

"Why are you?"

The frown that had been deepening bit by bit as the conversation continued tugged even further and the man that didn't know he was Rumplestiltskin leveled a glare worthy of the Dark One. Neal met it though and did his best not to waver under it. Finally he was met with a reward when Mr Gold heaved a sigh and motioned irritably. "Fine. I suppose I won't get rid of you until I do, though I can't drop everything at once like you apparently can. Do you know where Granny's is?"

"Just down the street."

"Mm. I'll be there in an hour."

Neal felt a grin take hold and he barely managed to contain it. "Great. Cool. Thanks."

It became apparent very quickly that Gold was done with that particular round of the conversation and Neal scooted out, his phone buzzing in his jeans as he stepped onto the street.

"Hey you. Find your dad?" Emma's voice met his ear and his smile only grew. "I figured when I didn't hear from you last night that you guys were getting caught up. Is he as bad as you remembered?"

"Different," Neal admitted carefully. "Definitely different."

"Good or bad?"

"Not sure yet."

"But you did find him?"

"Yeah."

"And is he in trouble?"

"Yeah, he's definitely in some sort of trouble. Listen, Emma, I don't know how long this is going to take. Are you good?"

"You know, I managed to handle myself just fine before you came along."

"Sure you did. You didn't even know to check the backseat of a car before you got in it."

"Most car thieves don't sleep in the back seat of the car they stole," his girlfriend pointed out and he laughed.

"You win," he said before it got too far. "Listen, I've got to run, but-"

"I love you," she cut him off and his smile turned a little goofy.

"Took the words out of my mouth. I love you too." He flipped the phone shut and looked at the entrance to the diner. Regina had said that the inn was connected, so he walked on in and took a look around. The place was empty, like the lunch crowd managed to keep themselves strictly to the eleven and twelve o'clock hours. It was nearly one then, and Gold hadn't seemed to be phased by that , but maybe he was the oddity in this strange little town.

"Hey there, cutie," a waitress said as she leaned against the bar. Her dark hair was streaked with the same candy-apple red that her lips were painted and she smacked loudly on her gum as she leaned, her shirt tied up and showing more skin than Neal would have thought a little town like this would have allowed. "You're the guy from the robbery, right?"

"Well, not the one doing the robbing," Neal answered with a grin of his own. "I'm actually looking for a room. I think I'm staying a few days."

"Really? We don't get a lot of visitors here."

"You're kind of out of the way," he admitted with a shrug. "The mayor said you guys have a motel or something attached to the diner…?"

"Yeah, Granny runs the inn. You want a room?"

"Yeah, if you have one."

She flashed pearly white teeth at him and motioned for him to follow her. When she rounded the counter all he saw were legs that went on for miles and he had to remind himself not to stare as he followed her through a hallway and into the back portion of the building. She grabbed a key, took his name, and sent him on his way to room four.

He seemed to be agreeing to a lot of things that he didn't really want to do, and for Mr Gold that was highly irregular. He was a creature of habit unlike any other - well, except for maybe most everyone in Storybrooke - and one of those habits that he'd cemented himself into fairly well over the years was the one that said that he never did anything that he wasn't inclined to do. If he didn't want a business deal to go through, it didn't come close. If he wanted a suit tailored just so, it had better be delivered that way. He was strict in it, meticulous, and people parted ways to let him pass.

But not Neal Cassidy.

Gold loosed a breath that rushed out closer to a growl than a sigh as he continued to scrub irritably at the little antique that had never done him any harm. The boy wouldn't take no for an answer, and while the shop owner would have turned anyone else out he found himself bending to this young man's desires and he couldn't understand why.

He slammed the little figurine down against the counter and huffed. He didn't have to go, a small voice seemed to remind him in the back of his head, though he'd given his word that he'd be there. His word was his bond and if Mr Gold lived by anything it was the promises that he made. Without contracts, without agreements, the world as they knew it would fall apart. Plenty of people didn't bother to keep their word, but if the people around him could rely on Mr Gold for one thing it was that he would always abide by an agreement. To the letter. It wasn't his fault that they didn't read every line provided.

Dark eyes flickered to one of the many clocks that ticked around the room. It was two o'clock, precisely one hour after he'd promised Neal that he'd be over at Granny's. He hadn't wanted to bother with lunch that day, just as he didn't bother with it most days. He had things to do, antiques to repair, and nicknacks to sort. He was a busy man. He certainly didn't need to waste time at that diner for any other reason than to collect rent. The food wasn't worth the time, much less the money.

Nevertheless he found himself wiping his hands on a clean cloth, pulling his cane from where it was hooked on the counter, and limping his way out the front door and down the main street after shrugging his coat on. The cold bit straight into him despite the layers that he wore and he winced, stepping carefully around a patch of ice in his path.

Granny's was empty with the exception of Neal Cassidy who sat in a table with his back to the inn entrance and he was nodding at all the right moments as Ruby leaned her hip against the table and talked. The young man's dark eyes focused behind her when Gold walked in though and he waved. Ruby, for her part, struggled to keep her smile.

"Ice tea, Mr Gold?"

"That'll be fine. Thank you, Ruby," he said and slipped into the opposite booth, swallowing the fact that he was late and he had to choose the seat with his back to the door.

"Not a beer guy, huh?" Neal asked, taking a sip of his own. "She has a good deal at lunch."

"I've never been a beer drinker," Gold answered with a shrug. "A good scotch or an occasional glass of wine, but never beer." He couldn't help but feel like he was being studied. Those dark brown eyes remained on him, and while they didn't quite make him uncomfortable, they didn't instill a sense of peace, either. There were a lot of emotions, almost too many to sort out, and he couldn't place why. He didn't like questions that he didn't have the answers to and this Neal Cassidy seemed to be a walking pile of them.

He apparently wasn't a fan of silence either. "So where are you from?"

"Aren't you the visitor here?" Gold pointed out blandly as Ruby set an ice tea down in front of him and he waved her off as she confirmed his usual order.

Neal grinned. "Yeah, well, I'm not the one that sounds like I'm from England."

Gold bristled. "Scotland, actually."

At least he had the good graces to look as if he realized he'd said the wrong thing. "Sorry, I… uh… Kind of grew up out in the middle of nowhere. There are a lot of random facts that most everyone knows that somehow slipped right past me. I think accents may be one of those."

The elder man snorted, but let it go. "And where are you from, Mr Cassidy?"

Neal grimaced a little. "Some place that you've never heard of, Mr Gold, that I know." His expression turned sad for a moment, but he shrugged it off and turned back to look at the man that he'd saved. "So what brought you to Storybrooke?"

The shop owner shrugged. "What takes a man anywhere? Business and a change of scenery. I went to law school in Boston."

"You're a lawyer?"

"Indeed I am."

"So lawyer, pawnbroker, antique restorer, and Ruby says you're their landlord?"

"Theirs and a few others."

He didn't normally give out this sort of information, not that anyone cared to ask. Mr Gold was a notoriously private man and people left him to that, but this man seemed bent on digging deeper and deeper. Each question should have been met with a vague answer, but somehow he seemed to work his way past the walls and, heaven help him, put the older man at an ease that he hadn't felt in years. He found himself chatting with this stranger and it wasn't until the meal was winding down that he finally allowed himself to realize why that was. He'd been fighting it. If he didn't think about it, didn't acknowledge it, it wasn't true. Now, though, as he looked at those brown eyes that his smile reached, he knew who Neal Cassidy reminded him of.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Gold blinked. "No. No, you didn't. I just... " He shouldn't tell him. It was none of his business and it wasn't like anyone knew. He made sure of it. "I just realized why you seem so damn familiar."

Neal blinked owlishly and looked almost hopeful. "Yeah?"

"I told you I don't have a son, and while that's technically true, I did once." His chest clenched painfully and something inside of him clamped down hard. It wasn't this boy's business. He shouldn't tell him. Over and over he tried to remind himself of that, but those excuses were wearing thin. "You'd be about his age if he'd lived and I think you look a lot like he would. I suppose that makes sense. You said you mistook me for your own father at first. I suppose everyone has a double, or so they say."

For the first time since Gold had sat at the table, Neal was quiet, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before pulling in a deep breath. "What happened to him?"

Gold had spent years banishing the memories and forcing himself past them. "Car crash," the words left his lips thickly. "Same one that tore my ankle up. It killed my boy and left me crippled. My wife left not long after that and I moved to America to begin again."

"I'm sorry," Neal whispered.

"It's been many years," Gold said dismissively and looked over to where Ruby was stepping out of the kitchen. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a few bills.

"Hey, I was supposed to be thanking you for-"

"Nonsense." He paid and stood immediately after. He turned, but found only the source of many years of guilt staring back at him. It was impossible. His son was dead and had been for more years than he had cared to count in quite some time. "If you'll excuse me?"

He didn't give him a chance to argue, but left the diner as fast as his mangled ankle would allow and didn't look back. He didn't dare. Neal Cassidy couldn't replace his long-dead son and he would leave this place once the doctors and sheriff cleared him to do so. There was no reason to get attached. Things simply didn't change in Storybrooke, and on the rare occasion that they did, it was never for the better.

He had thought he'd get to see his papa, but it had become clear very quickly that he wasn't a free man. Oh, he could walk around and if he so chose he might even drop by Marco's little shop, but his papa wouldn't recognize him. He'd be a stranger to him, and as he approached Neal in the street he was certain that he couldn't handle that.

August Booth offered a wave and jogged to catch up. "Hey, Neal, you okay? I heard about what happened."

Neal, for his part, looked a little weary. "Yeah, and where have you been?"

"Held up."

"Yeah, by the people you brought me to? Listen, I know you said my dad was in trouble, but you didn't say that your friends were the reason behind it."

The author took a physical step back and for the first time he thought he might be able to buy the fact that this man was the Dark One's son. He'd gone from a rather sad and depressed state to fuming within five seconds at the absolute most, and the fury radiating off him was a little unnerving. He held his hands up palms outward. "I didn't know, I swear. I didn't even know who your dad was until I overheard them, and then they wouldn't let me leave."

"You show up out of nowhere, haul me to the other side of the country, and then someone takes a cheap shot at my dad."

"I just said I didn't-"

"And then your nose grew just a little. Unless you want a black eye to go with it, I'd suggest you get out of here."

"Neal, I'm sure you have questions-"

"No, I really don't. Your little fairy friends and her crazy-ass whatever-they-are are using some curse that this whole town is under to try to kill my father. I don't really care about the why's, August, I just care that they're trying to do it."

August blinked. "You know about the curse?"

"No thanks to you."

"Yeah, but who have you been talking to? No one that's here should know except for Blue and Magnus and his clerics. Unless… Neal, you can't trust Regina."

The younger man snorted. "Because I can trust you so much? I'll take my chances on who I choose to trust. Good luck, August. Don't let Blue tug your strings too hard."

Blue eyes stared widely as the Dark One's son walked off, waving over his shoulder before stuffing his hands in his pockets. He'd gone to the Evil Queen for help. That or she'd found him. There was no good way to turn now. As long as Magnus threatened his papa, August couldn't directly help Neal.

But he loved Emma, and Emma probably loved him. August pulled in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. No, he couldn't help him directly, but he'd be damned if he didn't help him at all. No matter what the Blue Fairy said, that was the right thing to do.

TBC

Notes:

Next time - Neal starts to grow frustrated with his lack of options, but when another attempt on Mr Gold's life is made, he may find what he's been looking for.