8.

Rumplestiltskin woke sore and stiff the next morning, finding himself leaned back into the corner of his winged back sitting chair that sat facing the fireplace in his living room. The fire had long since died out and the morning had left the room cool, but certainly not intolerably so. It took him a moment to place exactly why he would be where he was, but a glance to the couch where Bae had drifted off to sleep brought a smile to his face. He would take any aches and pain his human body had to throw at him in this land if it meant he could wake to see his son there in his home.

Tea cups still sat on the table between them and Bae was stretched out on the couch, face buried in the pillow with his back to the window. The sun was barreling in with all of its might, shining directly on him, and Rumplestiltskin felt his smile widened just a little as his son nestled down, clinging to a few more minutes of sleep. Perhaps the next night they might manage to cut the conversation off before they fell asleep where they sat.

He stood carefully, reaching out to take hold of his fallen cane, and moved to gather the cups up to take to the sink. He paused and watched Baelfire's steady breathing for a moment. He'd grown so much since they'd been separated - since he'd let him go - but he still looked very much just an older version of the boy he'd known. Down to his dislike of early mornings, it would appear. Rumplestiltskin chuckled softly to himself as he bent over, pulling a throw blanket up around his shoulders to keep the chill from him before he moved into the kitchen.

Life was truly a funny sort of thing. He had had everything planned out to the detail and he would have thought that his Sight would have made that easier. The Seer had told him once that he would learn to decipher what could be from what would be, but apparently he had latched onto one of those possible paths with all the desperation of a father looking for his son and it hadn't been quite as he'd predicted. They were eleven years too early, but what that meant he wasn't entirely sure. He had told Baelfire the night before that they needed to tread carefully and that was true. They had enemies at every turn, and some within their own very tiny circle of allies should certain information get out.

Rumplestiltskin pulled the frying pan from it's place overhead and set it on the stove, shuffling over for the eggs in the fridge. His son was in love with the savior. What a funny life. That had been something he'd never predicted. Bae hadn't wanted to know anything more about the situation after he'd received his father's promise to reunite the girl with her long-lost parents, but that wasn't surprising. The girl had no reason to suspect that she was travelling into a cursed town with equally cursed citizens from another world, and to try to explain that to her without very careful planning might send her running for the hills. Hell, he knew if Bae had tried to tell Gold any more than he did that the pawnbroker would have run faster than he did. No, that particular situation would have to be handled with the utmost care. He wasn't entirely sure where her father was, if he were honest with himself. Mary Margaret Blanchard, though she looked different here, was most assuredly Snow White, but Charming had gone and buried himself in the throngs of people. He'd have to make a point to search him out if he was going to make good on that promise as quickly as possible.

He cracked an egg against the side of the pan and it sizzled as he added another one in the same fashion. The conversation the night before had taken many winding turns. He'd been as honest as he knew how, and Bae seemed to appreciate that. He told him about the Dark Castle and his studies and a few interesting tidbits here and there. Bae had spoken about the Darlings that had taken him in when he landed in London at the turn of the century and how he'd been swept off to Neverland after. Rumplestiltskin had done everything in his power to remain calm and put together during that conversation. It hadn't lasted as his mind came up with all the ways that his father had now destroyed not only his own childhood, but now his son's as well. By the end of the talk - or at least by the time they'd fallen asleep - Rumplestiltskin had a feeling that they'd only touched on the terrible things his son had seen during their time apart.

The eggs continued to sizzle as he leaned over and dropped a couple of pieces of bread into the toaster and set it to work. Emma would be able to find Storybrooke as long as she knew generally where to look, and from what Bae had indicated she would be there sometime that afternoon. What a savior that showed up before she should actually be the savior would bring with her, Rumplestiltskin had no way to know. As long as Regina wasn't looking for her - and the queen had no reason to suspect who she was - Emma should be safe from her. Bae seemed determined that she should, at least eventually, know what was happening here. Until then, Rumplestiltskin could only be relieved that he'd spent so much time immersed in Gold's life. It gave him something to use as a cover at least.

"Please tell me you drink coffee," Bae's drowsy voice met him and he looked up, finding his son rounding the corner into the sitting room that connected to the kitchen. His hair was standing on end and his eyes were still heavily lidded as if they might close at any point and without warning.

A smile perked thin lips. "Of course. You'll find what you need in that cabinet over the coffee maker. There's orange juice in the fridge as well."

Bae shuffled all the way in and rounded the counter. "You still get up with the sun, I see," he mumbled as he pulled the filters and grounds out.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "Old habits. Sometimes it's before the sun, but we had a late night."

His son chuckled. "You still okay with Emma crashing here too?"

"Staying?" Rumplestiltskin asked. "Certainly. Better here than the inn. I still am not sure how the curse will react to her, so I'd like to keep a close eye."

"That's still a lot to wrap my mind around. Out of all the people in this world, I found her. How?"

His papa shrugged, dishing out the eggs into a plate as the toast popped up. He handed it over. "I've found that destiny is a peculiar thing. Perhaps it has a bit of a sense of humour. Jam is in the fridge."

Baelfire snorted out a laugh. "I find you after centuries of being separated in a cursed little town in a world that neither I us were born in, and now you're making me breakfast like when I was a kid. Yeah, I'd say fate has a sense of humour."

"Well, I should hope that this breakfast is better than what we used to have on hand when you were young," Rumplestiltskin teased.

He watched as his son grabbed a fork, poured his coffee, and took a seat at the breakfast table. A smile perked around the fork after the first bite. "Tons better," he agreed and they both had to laugh. The peace wouldn't last, so they might as well enjoy it while it did.

They continuously failed to take out a man that could barely walk. It was insufferable. Magnus had fought Dark Ones for over a millennia now and had found the curse impossible to eradicate using even the purest of light magics found in any realm. Here, though, he was vulnerable. Here he was human. He didn't even know who he was, so why were the clerics that he'd trained since their childhoods having such a difficult time bringing him in?

Everything had been set up perfectly. He had found his pathway through Rumplestiltskin's tightly woven little curse and Reul Ghorm had ensured that his and his clerics' memories would remained with them. Once they'd come through they had found each other. His men had been scattered across this quaint little town in various stations of insignificance, but a few were useful. Truth be told, he'd expected the Dark One to remember as well, but when he'd found him as cursed as any other man in the town he'd had to remind himself that he was a patient man. He had no interest in killing Mr Gold, but Rumplestiltskin was buried beneath him. He had spent the last seventeen years researching Gold - records were kept in all places in Storybrooke so that he knew every inch of the man's falsified life - and looking for the Dark One's son in the outside world by any means that he could reach. It had taken him all that time to find him, and even Baelfire had not been able to wake him up. His patience, at last, was growing thin.

Magnus reached out, one large hand finding the table in front of him and he lashed out in a moment of frustration. Books, maps, and who knew what else were swept off in a fit of fury and he gave a low growl to accompany it. He had been so careful to work around the clever Dark One, yet he still evaded him. There was no reasonable explanation. His curse shouldn't be able to help him as long as he was Gold. The pawnbroker was nothing. He was a shell and a façade that would be tossed away. Magnus might not be able to look the Dark One in the eyes any longer, but his face was seared into his memory. He would at least have him aware so that when he took his life he understood why.

The door behind him opened. "Magnus," his second in command's voice filled his ears. "There's a man outside looking for you. It's the Sheriff."

"Why is he here?"

"He says that he has to take you in. They've found evidence that links you to the attack on Gold. Both of them."

"Useless though they were," the ancient cleric huffed. "Kill him. He's the Evil Queen's pawn."

"Absolutely not."

Reul Ghorm was making a habit of keeping her steps quieter and quieter around him, but he'd heard her approach just before she spoke. She had been increasingly difficult recently. She pulled back in the moments when strength was necessary. He knew why. She was far too invested in how she was seen by those rulers she had spent so much time gaining over. They didn't know who she was and might never rouse from their slumber again, but she was blind to that. Her focus was on the wrong side of things and if she was going to continue to be useful it would need to change.

"The Huntsman has proven time and again to be clever enough to get around the Evil Queen's hold. There are other paths to take."

"The Huntsman is buried so deeply under the idiot sheriff that nothing is left of him," Magnus snapped. "Kill him, Caiden."

"Please," the lead fairy begged and her hand rested on his arm, her voice soft. "You trusted me once. Trust me here. Killing him is the wrong move and will only invite another enemy to look at us closely. Go with him now and I will have this setback dealt with by sundown."

Magnus frowned deeply. He could not see her face, but the Blue Fairy had always been quite good with finding just the expression needed. Her hand lingered on his arm and he heard Caiden shift uncomfortably, unwilling to take a side between them.

Her fingers tightened ever so slightly. "When you found yourself without a way to retain yourselves in this world I did not fail you. Have faith in me, my old friend."

A sigh left him and he waved her off. "Very well. Until sundown."

"Thank you."

"No longer."

"Of course not."

He stepped forward, the cane he used to ensure a clear path in front of him gripped in his hand. Reul Ghorm would come through or Caiden would handle the situation. She may not like it, but she didn't have to. Their priority was destroying the Dark One, and Magnus could not do that from behind bars.

Neal had given her very detailed instructions on how to reach the little town he was in. Storybrooke. Emma had tried not to roll her eyes when he'd told her, and she was certain that he felt the same. As she crossed the town line and saw the Welcome to Storybrooke sign there the feeling returned. She'd never been to Maine, but she couldn't help but assume this quaint little town would get really boring really fast.

Still, Neal had found his dad. While he'd never liked to go into a lot of detail about the man - he had been a decent guy that had changed and let a lot of crap grow between them until Neal had run - that had raised him until he was fifteen, Emma knew what she'd give to see her parents. Sure, she'd be angry. They'd abandoned her and left her on the side of the road, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to the story than a few newspaper clippings and an old baby blanket. Neal was getting whatever story there was behind his own abandonment, and while it must have been hard, it seemed like a good sign that he wanted to stick around. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

Emma grimaced as she turned into town and onto what appeared to be the main road and the little bug skidded on a patch of ice. There had been sand keeping her from sliding around too badly, but whoever's job it was to lay it out must have been distracted halfway through. The tires screeched and she took her foot off the brake, trying to glide to a stop. Finally she did, bumping into a curb before lightly tapping the car parked on the side of the street.

She sat there a moment, knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel, and the door to the little diner that she'd so-ungracefully managed to park outside of opened, several curious eyes watching. Yeah, she thought. Welcome to Storybrooke. She hated small towns.

"You okay?"

The blonde jumped, realizing that someone had come out of the diner and circled her car. The girl was only a little older than she was, dressed in a waitressing uniform of some kind, and was bundled up in a bright red, fur-lined coat. The streaks of red in her hair matched the coat and she tapped the window when she didn't receive an immediate response. "Hey?"

"I'm fine," Emma snapped, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door. She frowned when she saw the way her front bumper still rested against the car she'd hit. Well, there was no getting out of this now.

"You didn't hurt it," the waitress said with a smile. "It's my car, so I know how tough it is."

People had started to slip out of the diner to stare at the scene and Emma felt very uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I hit a patch of ice," she explained. "It was-"

"Oh yeah, Leroy was supposed to finish putting that out yesterday, but I think a burger and beer had his name on it. I'm Ruby. You're not from here, are you?"

"No, I'm here to meet my boyfriend. His dad lives here. Gold, or something like that, I think is his last name. I don't know. Neal-"

"Wait, what?" Ruby snapped.

Emma blinked at her. "Neal, my boyfriend, is visiting his dad here," she said slowly, enunciating every word. "I came to meet up with him."

"Sorry, did you say Mr Gold is Neal's dad? That sneak. That makes so much more sense now!"

"Is everything okay?" another woman called, and she trotted over to where Emma and Ruby were standing. She was small, maybe not particularly in height, but with her too-innocent green eyes and her little mousy look, she might have jumped if someone said boo. Even so, she'd scurried up to try to help if something was wrong, and she grimaced when she saw the scuff on both bumpers. "No one hurt?"

"No, we're fine, Mary Margaret," the waitress said. "Did you know that Neal was Mr Gold's son?"

"No! I didn't even know he had a son."

"Me neither."

This place was weird. She'd been there all of ten minutes and Emma was certain of it. She shut the door to her car as the two young women discussed her boyfriend and his father as if they'd forgotten she was standing there - the pop it gave acted nicely to pull their attention back around - and decided it was best to leave it where it was until this Leroy guy finished sanding the roads. "I think I'm kind of turned around. Neal said to meet them at some sort of antique shop. Any idea where that is?"

"Just down the way there," Mary Margaret said as she pointed. "Mr Gold's name is on the shop. You can't miss it."

"Thanks." She didn't bother with anything else. These people looked at her like they'd never seen a stranger in their life with the way the rest of them cluttered around the opening to the diner. Maybe places like this didn't see a lot of them, but surely generations didn't remain year after year without every branching out to other places and coming back to visit. She didn't know if this was where Neal had grown up or not - yet another thing that he'd never explicitly mentioned - but even if they'd never met him as a kid, surely they'd met someone outside of their own borders before.

The antiques shop turned out to also be a pawn shop, which made Emma smirk a little to herself. She had no idea what mental image she should have even cooked up for this Gold character. Did Neal look like his father? He didn't have any photos of him, so she'd never known what to picture on those rare occasions where he spoke of him. He'd never even told her his name until he'd come to this place.

A bell jingled overhead, announcing her entrance. The inside was chilly. and certainly looked much more the antiques store over the pawn shop. She couldn't imagine that people came and went from this place very much, but there were some interesting figurines and dolls… Okay. The dolls were creepy.

"Emma!"

Emma hadn't realized just how much she'd missed him. Neal ducked through a set of curtains that separated the store from whatever was behind them and the grin he wore was contagious. The long drive cross-country, the cold, and the weird greeting she'd received didn't seem to matter anymore as the blonde launched herself into his arms and he pulled her close. "Missed you too," she laughed. "So this is your dad's place, huh? Very old-school."

"You have no idea," he answered with a grin. "He's in the middle of something, but come here and you can meet him."

Emma didn't have a chance to agree or argue as her boyfriend took her hand and led him to the back of the shop. He was nervous, she realized after a moment. Sentences blurred together when he was nervous, and any suaveness that he had - and the fact that he'd always had a little bit of awkwardness to him was a plus for Emma - went right out the window.

The back office was more cluttered than the front room. Half finished restoration projects were scattered on various tables and a man somewhere in his mid to late forties sat tinkering with one then, a magnifying glass pulled so that he could see the smallest part of what might have been an old music box. He was dress like Emma would have assumed someone on Wall Street or in a powerful law firm would have dressed, and hardly like a small business owner in a podunk little town. His focus was absolute and it took Neal clearing his throat for him to look up, and Emma saw the resemblance between them right in the eyes.

"Papa, this is Emma."

A slow smile stretched and he stood, stretching out a hand to shake hers. "Hello Emma. Neal's told me so much about you."

She took the offered hand and couldn't help but feel like he was sizing her up. His dark eyes met her own hazel ones without hesitation and she was once again hit with the feeling that he was displaced here, and even more that he was hiding behind something. She had always had a sense about these things. Neal didn't believe her, but she could spot a lie even when it hadn't been voiced yet, and this guy was hiding a hell of a lot.

"Yeah, well, you traumatised him pretty good so I haven't heard much about you. Learning experience." Neal looked ready to die to her left, but he should have know something like that was coming. He'd get over it and she'd get a better feel for the man that had left such a scar on the man she loved. She may have understand where he was coming from in that he needed to face this or to help him or whatever he wanted to call it, but that didn't mean she couldn't watch his back.

The man she was speaking to, however, remained entirely nonplussed. He watched her, studied her, and a small smile perked his lips that made her entirely uncomfortable. "One that I eagerly look forward to," he answered in a smoother tone than Emma could have imagined anyone related to Neal possessing. Well, he was pretty smooth when it came to their cons.

Silence stretched between them and Emma crossed her arms, unwilling to give. "So what do I call you?"

"Gold is fine. Most people find my first name a bit difficult to pronounce."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but his smile didn't falter.

"Neal, why don't you take her on over to the house. I have a few things to finish up here and I'll be right over."

Several expressions flashed through Neal's dark eyes, but the one he seemed to settle on was a thinly veiled worry. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

The smile that the elder man wore turned a little more real. "Yes, of course. Don't worry about me."

"Call me if those guys show up again, okay? You do know how to use that thing right?"

The tease made Gold roll his eyes a little and shake his head. "Technology doesn't completely elude me," he groused.

"Could have fooled me," Neal chuckled. "See you in a bit, Papa."

"I'll be there."

A promise echoed in the words and Emma thought about how Neal had described what happened over the time she'd known him. Sometimes it was that he ran and sometimes it was that he'd been abandoned. Either way, she wanted to make sure this man didn't hurt him again.

She hadn't known what to expect when she received the call that Magnus - no, Jacob Dawson. Here he was Jacob Dawson - was in custody. Regina had been in the office filling out paperwork all morning and preparing for the long - boring - weekend that was forced into her due to a holiday that this world observed. It was one of the few that she recognized from back home, but that didn't mean she cared. All it meant to her was that more paperwork had to be signed off on in a shorter amount of time. She really should have thought this mayor thing through a little more carefully.

Regina didn't bother to hurry her pace as she crossed over from the mayor's side of town hall to the sheriff's, her heels clicking against the hard floor. Graham was bent over his desk when she entered and he looked to be scurrying to finish the same type of paperwork that she had been. "You know, if you hired a deputy you could make him do all that paperwork," the mayor said as she stopped in the doorway, a smile curling her painted lips. "I've made sure it's in your budget."

Graham chuckled. "Yeah, well, find me someone to apply for the job, Madame Mayor, and I might just take your advice."

She blinked. There hadn't been any sarcasm in his voice really, only a bit of amusement at the idea, but he had never seemed to notice that no one took new jobs or left old ones in Storybrooke. No one did. It was part of the curse's safeguard that allowed those under it to remain in less-than-blissful ignorance of what was happening to them.

"Regina?"

"Yes?" she asked automatically, and found him staring at her.

"Mr Dawson's lawyer just left," he said seriously, bringing her back around to the issue at hand.

"He called a lawyer?"

"Yeah. Peter Kurtz or something like that. Young kid, but he seemed pretty confident." Graham's voice dipped a little lower. "I can only hold him for so long without any real evidence. He knows that."

"Then get some," the Evil Queen snapped. "We know this man is behind it, now prove it."

"Regina, he's blind and works at the convent for a bunch of nuns. That doesn't scream killer to me."

She snorted and moved past him without another word. Magnus sat in his cell with his sightless gaze staring straight through the bars and towards the other wall. He was a large man, even sitting down. His shoulders were broad and he sat as if one that knew he held authority. The scarring on his face was most certainly caused by dark magic. It had ripped and shredded, leaving most of his features intact, but had dug deep into him to sever nerve endings and steal his sight from him. Regina herself was capable of the magic, but even she knew she lacked the patience to implement it. Rumplestiltskin didn't though. That man had all the patience in the worlds, and if this cleric truly had been after him for the duration of his curse she could hardly blame him for being a bit vindictive.

"Admiring your master's work?" the gruff, irritable voice of the blind cleric reached her ears.

Regina glanced back at Graham to see he had closed his door to give her privacy. What a good pet he made. A smile graced her lips and she squared her shoulders just a bit more. "I would hardly call him a master. Former teacher, perhaps, but master implies that he is above me in some way or another."

A smile stretched across Magnus' lips. "But you do his bidding at every turn. Isn't that the very definition of servitude, Your Majesty?" he asked and his smug tone grated at her nerves.

"Hardly."

"Then is this not his curse that he groomed you to cast. My mistake then."

"You're awful cheeky for a man behind bars. That is, unless the dear sheriff didn't let you know that that's where you are."

"I won't be here long, Your Majesty. You have nothing to link me with those supposed crimes."

"See, and that's the thing. You're in my town, Magnus. What I say goes."

"Perhaps once it did, but no longer."

She bristled at the comment, ready to shoot back with a scathing remark about how miserable she was going to make him through her curse - she was going to rewrite them all, making them more lowly, more helpless than they had ever been before. Nothing would save them from it - when the door opened behind her.

Graham stood and exited his enclosed office from the side door, meeting the three newcomers. The first was that obnoxious, life sized bug that fancied herself holier than anyone she met. She was followed by a blond man that Regina didn't recognize, but assumed must have been the lawyer Graham had spoken of. Between them was a third that she only vaguely recognized, and the young man looked terrified.

"Peace, Miles, and tell the sheriff exactly what you told me. The first step to forgiveness is the truth."

Miles - or whatever the boy's true name was - swallowed hard as he made eye contact with Graham. "Sheriff, my name is Miles Dannish. I was Kyle Matthews' accomplice in the armed robbery against Mr Gold and I was the one driving the car last night by the shop that nearly hit him. I... I was scared. I didn't want him to talk. Mr Dawson had nothing to do with it."

Regina couldn't believe what she was hearing or seeing. That sly, conniving little gnat! She'd put the kid up to this. Granted, the Evil Queen had done that and more in her time, but at least she knew what she was. She didn't hide behind some façade of ultimate goodness like this hypocrite.

"Are you willing to put that confession down in writing?" Graham asked carefully. "You understand what this means, right?"

"He's willing," the lawyer said firmly.

"This is insane," Regina bit out, unable to stop herself. "This man is clearly being coerced."

"And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Madam Mayor?" the Blue Fairy murmured so softly that Regina almost missed it.

"I understand," Miles Dannish said and Graham nodded.

Regina stood stiff as a board while he unlocked the cell and handed the cleric his walking stick back. Her lips turned down, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing - or hearing - her squirm at being thwarted. This was obviously a bigger problem than she - and possibly even Rumple - knew that it was. Somehow they were would king outside of the curse's reach while still within Storybrooke. She didn't know how, but she was fairly certain that she knew that one that would.

"Have faith," the Blue Fairy said cheerfully. "Have faith and I would find a way to free you before sundown. I have hours to spare, old friend."

Caiden watched his master's sightless eyes narrow. "Barely," the ageless cleric retorted. "You used one of my own to do it."

It was the fairy's turn to look a little irked now. "Have you not been the one saying that sacrifices must be made?"

"There were many others you could have chosen from." He waved a large hand, dismissing the conversation. "We have other matters to attend to. I believe the Dark One knows."

"Impossible," Blue argued. "He's too deeply buried beneath Gold."

"Perhaps his son did wake him after all," Magnus said thoughtfully. "We must know for sure. Caiden, fetch the twins. If they can bring him to me, tell them to do so. Otherwise, tell them to find proof."

"My lord," Caiden breathed, "if you believed that Quinn's way drew too much attention-"

"Quinn was careless. Soren and Silas are not." He paused and Caiden stood waiting for the orders that would come. "Tell them to force him into showing his hand."

The younger cleric offered a bow that wasn't actually seen. "It will be as you wish, my lord."

TBC

Notes:

I've had a couple people asking about the timeline. Currently it is December of 2000 in this story. Emma is seventeen. Bae is twenty (physically, but I suppose he's more like 320 or something around there). Henry has not been born yet. Part of the departure for this AU (trickling down from the fact that Magnus is along for the ride and screwing with everything Rumple had so perfectly planned) is that when August approaches Bae (a bit earlier in this timeline) he isn't there for Emma, he's there for Bae. Hope that clears it up. If you guys ever have questions about stuff like that, feel free to ask :)

Next time - Emma meets Regina, August gets roped into doing Magnus' dirty work, and the twins pay Rumplestiltskin a visit.