10.

August heard the commotion from inside the shop and curiosity got the better of him. He slipped through the curtain that led to the back room and he could hear a yelp of pain that nearly had him turning right back around. He had his own family to worry about. He liked Neal, but his father was the Dark One. For him, it was best to stay as neutral as possible.

Then he heard a voice. It was a voice that he'd have known anywhere, and had heard just before he'd broken into the little pawnshop.

"What are you doing back here?" Marco asked loudly and August peeked through the blinds covering the back window. The clock worker was standing just inside the alley, staring at the two men that were looming over a very dazed looking Mr Gold. There was no mistaking the look in Silas and Soren's eyes when they knew they'd been spotted.

August broke into a run, flying through the shop and out the broken front door. They'd promised to leave his papa alone as long as he did what they asked, and he'd be damned if they'd hurt him now.

Soren was reared back like he was going to put Marco flat on his back when the young writer rounded the corner. "Hey!" he shouted, and the cleric stopped before the blow landed. Their eyes met and his brother let out a low growl, but August didn't flinch. "Why don't you pick on someone who has a chance at fighting back?" he demanded.

The brothers exchanges looks and Soren released Marco. The glare that they gave August said it all: Magnus would make good on his threats. He had already made his immediate decision though, and it has been for his papa. Maybe if he helped Rumplestiltskin home, Neal would be willing to return the favour.

"You came just in time," Marco said as the clerics scurried off. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, they didn't look like they were going to let you off any easier than Mr Gold here."

They both turned to the shopkeeper who seemed to be coming too on the icy ground. He blinked several times as Marco knelt down, ready to help steady him as he tried to sit, and he offered him his cane that had been tossed aside. "Easy," August's papa encouraged and Rumplestiltskin didn't look like he was certain what day it was. The side of his face was caked in blood from a nasty gash at his hairline and he winced as he moved.

"I'm fine, thank you," he said automatically, though it looked like he might still have felt the ground beneath him sway a little.

"August?" Marco called, and for the briefest of moments he'd forgotten that that was the name he'd given to him in the shop just a little bit earlier. "Do you have a cell phone? Mr Gold looks like he may need a trip to the hospital."

"No, I'm fine. No hospital needed."

"If you have a concussion and no one is there," Marco began to argue.

"My son's there," he said as he struggled to his feet. Interesting. Rumplestiltskin did know who he was. August wondered when that had happened. "I just-" He swayed and Marco caught him before he ended up back in a heap on the ground.

"At least let me drive you home?" he offered.

August bent over and grabbed the discarded coat and somehow he and Marco ushered the dazed shop owner to Marco's car and drove him home.

He seemed to steady out on the way there, eyes growing sharper even if his fingers gently explored the cut that had more or less stopped bleeding. August thought he looked worse than he might have actually been, but helping Marco get him home got them both away from the scene, and he could only hope Neal would be willing to help him. Not that he knew how to explain to his cursed papa why he needed help.

It was a good thing that Marco knew where to go, because August didn't have the faintest clue. He'd seen pieces of Storybrooke since arriving, but it was a lot bigger than it first appeared to be. While most of the stores and shops seemed to line the Main Street, there appeared to be a couple housing communities, a few apartments, and maybe some additional housing of some form or another down near the ocean. The houses were getting nicer the further the wound Marco's old, sputtering car in, but he seemed to know just where to go, though August couldn't imagine a scenario when he would have been by there before.

The car pulled into a long driveway behind a tattered old Volkswagen Bug that August was quite certain didn't belong to Gold.

"I can make it from here," the human Dark One said shortly as he unfolded from the cramped back seat.

He looked like he was feeling the beating already, but he seemed steady enough that Marco almost let him go. He would have, too, had August not stepped out and around the car. "We should really make sure you get in okay."

Marco followed then and Rumplestiltskin looked too put out to argue. He fumbled in his coat for his keys and pushed the door open. They were met almost immediately with the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs by the front door and Neal's voice accompanied them. "Did you find what you were looking for...Papa?" His voice trailed off and dark eyes came to rest on August. "You."

The author immediately raised his hands in defence. "Hey, here to help. Your dad got jumped and we pulled him out of it."

Neal didn't waste time coming down the rest of the stairs and he had a hand on his father's arm immediately, worry in his eyes. Rumplestiltskin, for his part, gave a small smile at the undaunted sign of affection. "I'm okay," he murmured.

"We need to talk, Neal," August said firmly. "It'll only take a second."

Dark eyes flickered back to Marco who looked like he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself and Neal offered the same easy smile that he'd used on August when they'd pretended to know each other in the bar and stretched his hand out. "Hey, I'm Neal. Could I get you to stay in here with him while August gives me the details? Don't want him passing out on us."

"Of course, of course," Marco answered immediately and Rumplestiltskin glared a bit at his son, but said nothing. For whatever problems they may have had or might still have, it looked like the Dark One trusted his son. Maybe Magnus had been onto something.

He hadn't been worried yet because his papa hadn't been gone long, so when he showed up with the beginnings of a black eye, his left arm wrapped around his ribs, and August Booth hovering closely by, Neal thought he might have some worrying to catch up on. He'd tried to give the man he had thought might be a friend as much of a chance as possible after he'd delivered him into this mess, but there was no way around it now. He couldn't imagine what explanation he could reasonably give that would put him in the middle of this.

"Marco is my papa," he said very quietly. "He doesn't remember because of the curse, but that doesn't keep Magnus from threatening him to get what he wants. They had me looking for something in his shop - some sort of knife, I don't know why - when they jumped him outside. Marco got in the middle of it and-"

"And now he's in the middle of everything," Neal murmured. He looked over to August who wore one of the most conflicted looks he thought he'd ever seen.

"I don't know how to protect him. He doesn't even know who I am."

"Yeah, I know how that is," the older man breathed and his dark eyes flickered back to the hall. He could hear Emma's voice drifting in and he sighed.

"Can your dad restore his memories?"

Neal shrugged. "No clue. I'll ask, though. Until then, I think you should both go straight over to the sheriff's station and let him know what's going on as best as you can. Tell him you're worried for Marco's safety. Maybe he can put someone on it?"

"What about me?"

"You're going back to Magnus," Rumplestiltskin said from the entrance, drawing both of their attention. He was standing carefully, but at least he'd washed some of the blood away from his face. That helped tremendously.

"He'll kill me," August argued, and Neal's papa snorted.

"Not if he thinks you're useful, and you're going to make yourself indispensable to him."

"How?"

"Leave that to me," Rumplestiltskin said with a thin smile. "Bae's right about sending Marco to Graham. He'll take care of him. There are a few people that I know are certainly not in Magnus' pocket, and he's one of them."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know who he belongs to."

Neal watched his papa and August watch each other, both weighing options for the next best move, but Rumplestiltskin at least appeared confident that the writer would take his advice. Finally, August nodded. "Okay. I've always heard you make good on your deals. You keep my father safe, and I'll work the inside angle. Deal?"

"Deal," the elder man answered and reached forward, shaking August's hand.

August nodded, looking nervous but determined. He turned back to Neal. "Same side?"

"Yeah, looks like it."

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you found him."

Neal knew his papa's eyes were on him then and he felt a small smile perk his lips. "Me too."

He watched the writer leave with the man that didn't even know that he was his son and Neal knew the pain that that caused. He felt a hand on his shoulder and his papa offered a strained smile. "He'll be fine. Don't worry yourself over them too much. That boy is resourceful."

"Did you know him?"

"No, but I know just what that sort of desperation inspires in people."

"So I think it's time to get a little more information," Emma said from her place. Her arms were crossed and Neal knew that sidestepping this time wouldn't be an option.

"I'll let you two talk," his papa offered softly. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."

"You're okay though?" Neal asked,

"I've been worse," Rumplestiltskin answered dismissively and started up the stairs.

"Neal? What's going on?" Emma asked quietly. "What the hell is your dad in the middle of? And don't give me the bullshit you did before. This is serious."

Neal winced at her tone, but there was worry in her eyes. She reached forward and took his hand. "I love you, remember? Whatever it is, I'm with you. I'm not going to run."

"Promise?" he whispered and she rolled her eyes.

"Idiot. Of course I promise."

He pulled in a deep breath and motioned for her to follow. It was now or never. They took a seat on the couch in the livingroom and Neal pulled in a deep breath. "This is going to sound crazy. Just know that I'm totally aware of that."

"Okay? Just tell me the truth. That's all I'm asking for." A hint of mischief flickered through her expression. "And you know I'll know."

The tease made him smile a little. "You know how you make fun of me because of all the stuff I don't recognize? Like... Pop culture references and stuff?"

Emma snorted. "Yeah. You grew up under a rock in the middle of nowhere. I get that after seeing this place."

"More like...in a different place," he tried, tasting the words as they left his lips. There was no way this wouldn't sound crazy. His papa had said Emma was originally from the Enchanted Forest as well, but she couldn't possibly have memories of it.

"What kind of place?"

Oh, he was going to hate himself, he knew that, but she had promised not to run. If he really did love her, he had to be honest. "The kind that doesn't exist in this world." He held up his hands at the look that said she thought he was teasing. "Just hear me out? I don't know how many, but I know there are other worlds out there besides this one. They're different from here."

"What, like planets?"

"Like realms?" he tried.

She snorted, her expression anything but entertained. "What, like Neverland? Seriously, Neal, I want the truth."

"This is the truth!" he argued. "The place where I grew up is called the Enchanted Forest. My dad took on this curse when I was fourteen to try to keep me from going to a war, but it drove him a little crazy, so I found a way for us to come here. He... He let me fall through the portal alone. That's why we've been separated. That's why I was so angry and never wanted to talk about it, but he created this curse to cross realms and look for me... Emma, please, I'm not lying to you. Please stop looking at me like that." She was staring like she was waiting for the first opportunity to bolt. He swallowed hard. "Use your superpower. I'm telling you the truth."

She pulled in a deep breath and then loosed it in the form of a sigh, her expression more guarded than it had been in some time. "You think you are, but that doesn't mean it's real, Neal."

She stood without another word and he was frozen to the couch as he listened to the retreating footsteps and the sound of the front door opening and closing. He'd lost her. He had tried to be honest and he had lost her. The reality of that took hold slowly, like the knot that had formed deep in his gut was reaching up to cut off his air from the inside and he couldn't bring himself to move.

Rumplestiltskin winced as he turned to shut off the water from his shower, bruised and battered ribs aching in protest of the movement. They knew. They had to know, and if that was all they'd come out with that day, he would have told Bae to take Emma and run. He would hate himself for it, but it would keep his son safe. August, thankfully, had bought him time. If the carpenter's son could make good on his end of the bargain then they would have more information about what was happening. He could manage to keep one man safe for that. He'd do anything for time with his own son.

He carefully leaned in towards the mirror, inspecting the cut that had bled so badly. It wouldn't need stitches, just some careful care. It wasn't like he wanted Whale poking and prodding at him anyway. That decided, he slipped into a pair of slacks and a dress shirt. It was casual, and something Gold wouldn't have let anyone see. He wore his suits like armor and they did a fine job of portraying a very different - and more effective, at least in this world - kind of power than his leathers back home had, but certainly no less. He didn't need to hide behind power here, he reminded himself. His son and the woman his son loved were the ones that were here, and he would trust them. Well, he would trust in Bae and therefore in Bae's judgement.

His movements were slow, but he knew better than to sit down and let his joints stove up on him. Rumplestiltskin limped painfully back down the stairs and listened for the conversation that was likely still being had. When he didn't hear any voices he moved around, spotting his son sitting in the couch. Bae sat still, staring straight ahead until the sound of his papa's cane on the hardwood floors caught his attention.

Rumplestiltskin's remarks that would have been were instantly silenced at the look of pain in his son's eyes. "Bae, what happened?"

"I told her the truth," he whispered. "I told her the truth and she walked out."

This lips twitched downward and his heart clenched in his chest. "Bae, I-"

"You what?" the younger man snapped. "You've got something to fix this? Some magical fix-all that'll bring her back and make her get it? That will make her realize I'm not crazy?"

Rumplestiltskin stood rigidly where he was, his son's harsh tone slicing through him like a knife. He tried to steady himself, reminding himself that a broken heart could make a person say some of the nastiest of things. That reminder didn't help ease the next round at all.

"You can't even do that, can you?" Bae asked, defeat in his voice, and he slumped down into the couch. "I should have listened to my instincts and never have come. It would have been better if you'd never have come looking for me. I could have had a life, you know, but no. You had to come barging back in after three hundred years and throw everything back into chaos." He squeezed his eyes shut and a tear slipped out. "It was a hell of a lot easier when I could just hate you."

He didn't know what to say. He'd fought so hard and so long to get back to Bae that he'd never even considered that he would be disrupting a life he'd made for himself. A thousand explanations rose in his throat, and had the Dark Curse been broken, had his own curse had a foothold in him again beyond the bare whispers he heard in his dreams, Rumplestiltskin might have let one or more escape. Instead he swallowed them down hard. "I'm so sorry, Bae. You're...you're right. I just wanted - needed - to say how sorry I am for it all and...and that I love you, son. More than anything. More than the power or the dagger. That's why I came here to this world."

Bae looked around at him and none of the hateful words echoed in his eyes. Instead they were full of hurt and tears. "I'm sorry, Papa," he whispered, standing and looking very young in that moment. He crossed the space between them and, without warning, pulled his father into a crushing hug that made his bruised ribs protest. It didn't matter though, not so long as it was Bae "I'm so sorry, Papa. You came for me. It's not your fault Emma left."

Rumplestiltskin wrapped an arm around his son's neck. "Never apologize to me," he said as firmly as his breaking voice would allow. If Bae had a few abandonment issues, they were most certainly his fault. He couldn't change the past, but he could try to own up to it. It was more than his father had ever done for him. "Not to me, son."

"I love you too, Papa," Bae whispered, still clinging to him. "I just..."

"I know. I'm sorry." He held onto his boy for a long while, letting him cling as long as he liked. He'd gone through too much pain on his own, and Rumplestiltskin would rather have suffered for the rest of his existence than to let that happen again. He wouldn't fail him this time.

He was crazy. Of course she'd picked the crazy one. She always picked the crazies. The only foster mother that had loved her enough to want to adopt her had been a loon too. It seemed like people had to be crazy to love her. What did that say about her?

Emma hadn't bothered with the keys to the bug, but followed where her feet took her. That, apparently, was through the falling snow and towards the main part of town. It was just days before Christmas and once again her life was upside down and all over the place. She'd thought she had finally found a home with Neal. Maybe someday she'd learn.

Her sneaker stubbed into a block of ice and she glared at it through tears that hadn't quite fallen yet. With everything she had she kicked it, sending it flying down the snowy street and it thunked hard into a car. Emma felt her face heat and the tears that had only been threatening up until that point finally spilled over. She hated this place, but she had nowhere to go. She was seventeen with no family and a boyfriend that was insane. It had been a while since she's felt this lonely.

"You better hope that didn't dent my car," a voice said from behind and Emma whirled around to see the woman from that afternoon.

She blinked at her, trying to recall her name. "Sorry," the blonde managed with a sniff, looking down to her shoes. She didn't know what this lady did in town, but Neal had been pretty casual with her. Somehow she called shots when it came to arresting people, though, and she preferred to stay out of jail if she could help it. "It got away from me."

"This is why I liked it before you kids started poking your noses around here. No one dared to kick a rock at my car."

Emma found herself staring. Who the hell did this woman think she was? "It wasn't a rock. It was a snowball that iced over, and, well you'll have one less by tomorrow," she snapped. "I don't plan to stick around any longer than I have to."

Regina. That was her name. Regina tilted her head to the side, studying her. "Trouble in paradise already?"

"Would have been nice if I'd known my boyfriend was crazy before I trekked across the country to come help him." She found a pair of curious brown eyes on her and she sighed. "He started going on and on about curses and magic and other worlds... I don't know. He's never talked like before. Is his dad weird like that? Is that what set him off?"

Regina looked like she was weighing options for a moment, but after a few moments she sighed. "Why don't we take this conversation out of the cold, hmm?" she offered, her voice much more pleasant now that she didn't sound like she was sneering at everything.

Emma found herself nodding and followed her down the street and past the car she'd smacked with the clump of ice and snow. "So, Emma, how old are you? You look young to be traveling with a boyfriend."

"Nineteen," she lied. At barely seventeen it was a stretch for some, but she had found that lie easier for most to swallow over eighteen, somehow. Anyway, Neal lied up about his age all the time and no one batted an eye. His driver's license even had him several years older than he actually was.

"College?"

"Not really my thing." It might have been, she thought, if things had worked out. Even though she had hopped around a lot in school she had somehow managed to do well. In her stint with Ingrid she had almost finished up all her credits for high school. She promised herself when she did actually turn eighteen - when they couldn't get to her anymore - she'd see what had to be done to finish it.

"That's a shame. You seem like a bright girl."

Emma shrugged and followed her into what looked like the town hall. "Are you a cop or something?" she asked hesitantly.

Regina laughed. "No. I'm the mayor."

She opened the door to an office that had her name and title on it and Emma's eyes went wide. "Wow." It was the fanciest office she'd ever seen, decorated in black and white. She found herself starting forward, taking everything in. Regina didn't move to stop her, so she found her way to the large window. The sun had ducked below the horizon hours before and Storybrooke was lit up for the holiday. It looked cheerful and Emma was reminded exactly why she was not.

"So what did Neal say?" Regina prompted and Emma frowned.

"He started talking about this curse he thinks his dad has cast or something insane like that. I don't know. It was weird. He's never said anything like that. I don't know if-"

"What sort of curse?"

Emma blinked. "I don't know. Something to find him or save him or something."

The dark haired mayor moved around the desk, her heels clicking against the hard floor. She sat, looking almost regal in her actions. "I take it you don't believe him?"

"How could I?" she demanded. "It's insane." Regina didn't answer right away and Emma threw her hands up in the air. "I mean, c'mon, magic? What is with these people? Do I look that gullible? I'm not a kid, you know. Fairytales aren't real."

"They most certainly are not. This is the real world, Miss Swan. If you want something in this world, you take it."

"Is that how you got to where you are?"

Regina tilted her chin up a bit. "It is," she answered proudly, but Emma wasn't sure why. Sure, she had a huge office with a pretty view of the snow covered streets and shops lit up for Christmas, but there was something familiar in her prickly expression and standoffish approach. She was lonely. She may have been safe and powerful to the point that no one could hurt her, but she was alone. After so long, Emma was tired of being alone.

"I guess I really should take what I want, huh? No matter what it costs."

Regina smiled. "That's the kind of outlook that can take you anywhere."

"Thanks," the blonde answered with a hint of a smile. Neal may have sounded a little crazy, but she missed him already. She's never missed anyone before Ingrid, and if the woman hadn't nearly gotten her killed, she might have gone back. She glanced back to a woman not much younger than the one she'd run away from and her smile grew a bit more. "I owe you one," she said as she left the office, promising herself that she wouldn't make the same mistakes this time. Emma didn't have to be alone. She could try to stay for Neal and wrap her mind around whatever it was he was trying to tell her. She loved him, and she didn't question that he loved her. Maybe that was enough to take the risk.

Those were the thoughts tumbling around in her mind all the way back to Gold's house, the sound of the clocktower chiming away the hour on the main street.

They'd sat and talked a bit after Emma walked out. He had made sure his papa was alright from Magnus' last attempt on his life and Rumplestiltskin waved him off, far more interested in discussing how useful his son thought August would be in information gathering. He had always been clever when Bae had been a child, but now he seemed to have become a true chess player in which those that surrounded him were the pieces. When Neal pointed that out, his papa was quick to remind him that August was getting more out of this arrangement with him than he would have with the Blue Fairy.

"She's tricky," his papa said. "She'll hint that she can restore Gepetto's memories, but in reality only the caster of the curse can do that."

"Can you?"

"Not directly. I don't have any access to magic here right now."

Neal quirked an eyebrow. "Can you bring it?"

A slow, thin smile stretched thin lips. "I made preparations, yes."

"Will you?"

To his credit, he seemed to think about it for a moment. "I don't know. I'd meant to. I'd meant to use it to find you, but you're here now." He leaned back in his chair carefully, wincing as he did. Neal didn't miss the way his arm settled protectively across his ribs. "I still have enemies though."

"Enemies that are able to use magic," his son pointed out.

"True."

"Can you leave? Storybrooke, I mean? I don't have a lot, but we could go if they couldn't follow us, right? You wrote the curse and all."

"I'm not running from them," Rumplestiltskin snapped, dark eyes flashing before he shot Neal an apologetic look. His voice was softer when he tried to explain. "I won't cower back, Bae. I'm not that man anymore."

Neal nodded, not wanting to push. It didn't take much to see how his papa hated the fact that people could get the upper hand on him, but at least in Storybrooke he seemed to have a fair amount of money and prestige. They might attack him, but now that he was awake and knew who the enemy was, he could fight back. His son didn't want magic brought to this place, but if he had to choose, he was fairly certain that he couldn't risk losing his father again. He'd thought Rumplestiltskin loved his power more than he loved him, but he'd been wrong. At least it certainly seemed like he was wrong. They would never be what they had once been, but Bae wasn't a child anymore. They had both lived for centuries now. There were bound to be some changes on both ends.

"Anyway, no one can cross the town line," his papa said with a shrug. "This is a cursed town that was designed to keep people in. In theory someone might be able to cross it with the savior, but it's a theory I'd rather not test, even if she'd be willing."

Neal frowned and sighed. "So what now?"

"Now it's a waiting game. Magnus will be careful. There were times when I wouldn't see him for decades. His first attempt on my life here was when he sent his men in with you."

"Yeah, and he's been at it since."

"He thinks I'm awake. We're now playing a game of chess. He'll be more careful."

"So what? This was a warning?" Neal asked, motioning to his papa's bruised face.

Rumplestiltskin snorted. "A test. He'll suspect, and that will slow him down."

A knock caught both men's attention and Rumplestiltskin motioned for Neal to stay seated. "I need to get up and move anyway," he said by way of excuse and his son remained where he was half buried in the couch, listening for any signs that his father was wrong and that Magnus was at the door now. He tilted his head, listening intently, and finally heard the door close, but the footsteps that approached the sitting room weren't accompanied by the tapping of a cane. Dark eyes blinked when his father didn't return, but he was greeted by another familiar face.

Emma stood hesitating in the doorway, her nose red from the cold and her hands still stuffed deeply in his pockets. "I don't think your dad really wanted to let me back in," she said softly.

"He gets a little overprotective sometimes. The fact that he let you in at all is big for him."

"There's a lot I don't know, isn't there?"

Neal stood, and in that moment he felt like he was balanced by precariously between to lives. On one side was Baelfire and the love that a boy he'd been had held for his papa. It had held out, somehow, buried beneath the pain and the resentment, but it had led him there. On the other side was Neal and the life he'd been wanting to make with Emma. He loved her and he didn't want to drive her away. He didn't want to lie to her either. It would only put her in danger. "There is."

She nodded and stepped forward. "I'm not saying I believe you yet," she warned defensively.

"But?"

A small smile tilted her lips. "But I do love you, and that has to count for something right?"

Neal's face split into a grin and Emma was suddenly in his arms. "I love you too. I swear I'm not lying to you, but... I'll find some way to prove it. I know how you are with proof."

She gave a short laugh. "Yeah. Kind of a fan," she pulled back and matched his grin. "So, I know we're still a couple days out, but I have a request for Christmas." She tipped up on her toes and whispered in his ear. Neal's eyes went wide and he had to remind himself to blink.

His papa wasn't going to like that one bit.

Caiden couldn't help but cringe a little at the last scream that escaped under the door. Soren and Silas had never liked their plans to be disrupted, but if Blue found out that they were taking it out on the puppet that she had been using, they might find themselves more divided than they were already. She was very uncomfortable with the route that Magnus at chosen to take in this and the further down the path they traveled, the more antsy the lead fairy became.

"What are your thoughts?" Magnus' voice boomed lowly through the hall and Caiden felt a chill race up his spine. There was no reason for that, he knew. His loyalties were unwavering.

"He'll try to save himself and his father by any means necessary," the younger cleric said after a thoughtful moment. "He's of more use to us if he trusts that we can do as we've implied."

"The Dark One has already gotten to him."

Pale eyes blinked, surprised. "Then we're too late."

"Not necessarily. Fear is a powerful encourager, and as you said, he fears for himself and for the carpenter."

"What do you plan, my lord?"

"I mean to use him. Rumplestiltskin is awake, and of that I have no doubt now. He may not directly double-cross the Dark One, but his strings may be twisted just so to lead him in the direction that we wish him to go."

"Forgive me, but I don't understand why we don't end this and go home. Rumplestiltskin and the Evil Queen -"

"Will tear each other apart eventually." Magnus' smile broadened and he laid a hand against the door that separated them from the twins and the puppet that they'd been given time with. "The game has only now begun, and in the end, his will be a death that suits all the pain he's caused."

TBC

Notes: Does anyone know the name of the nice restaurant that we saw in 4A? I put myself through that scene (I will not go on an anti-CS rant I will not go on an anti-CS rant, I will be positive about SwanFire and not rude about others ships. See? If I repeat it enough, I'll remember that.) and still am not sure of the name of the restaurant. I need it for a later chapter!

Any help would be appreciated :)

Next time - Bae and Rumple look for Emma's father, Emma invites a surprising guest to Christmas dinner, and Jefferson tries to make a deal with the Dark One.