Rumplestiltskin was gone and the Evil Queen was nowhere to be found, which meant the sheriff might or might not be of any use at this point. And that meant he was on his own. Again.
August had laid low as best he could once he'd slipped away from the clerics. No one had followed him and he'd found a trailer in the woods that had been abandoned in a semi-livable state. It had been the flush of magic just under the forest floor that had pulled him out of hiding and sent August skulking around Storybrooke's streets.
He didn't think Emma could break the curse this early, but he couldn't just keep hiding. He took advantage of the cold, the hood around his face pulled tightly to avoid any immediate recognition. The last thing he wanted to do was end up on Magnus' twins' torture chamber again.
His first stop was his Papa's shop. He just about ran into him in the older man's haste to exit, and from the flash of recognition, August though maybe she'd done it. Maybe the curse was broken.
The momentarily startled expression evened out. "August Booth. I haven't seen you in some time. I thought perhaps you'd left."
No. This was definitely Marco. The curse hadn't been broken. August tried for a smile. "Just been a little tied up," he said vaguely. "You good? No problems after the two guys at the pawnshop?"
"Oh, it's been quiet," Marco said as he locked the shop up.
"Closing down for the night?"
"Marco, you heading to the meeting?" a familiar voice called from the street behind him and August glanced back. Jiminy.
"Just locking up," Marco confirmed and offered August an apologetic smile. "We'll be open first thing in the morning."
All August could do was nod his understanding as Marco joined a very human Jiminy and started down towards the center of town. A small frown tugged at the writer's lips and he couldn't shake that something was wrong. Well, more wrong than usual in a cursed town where no one knew who they really were with an ancient sect of clerics waging war against the Dark One. This place had a lot going on and none of it was good.
More people wandered by in the same direction - almost like the whole damn town was going to the same meeting Marco and Jiminy were - and August pushed a frustrated breath out through his nose. He was going to regret this.
He slipped in with a listless crowd, pulling his hoodie a little tighter around his face as he did. He fell into step with them all the way to the town square. Once there, people filed into the building and were milling around as if they were waiting for something. As he lingered towards the back, August spotted a group of people that he hadn't actually met in the convent, but that he would have put money on being clerics, make their way on stage. They were directing and setting things up. This wasn't good.
As if to prove his point, Soren and Silas ascended the stage from opposite sides. Yep. This was really bad.
Silas stepped forward. "Quiet down," he instructed, and his voice carried even without a microphone or sound system.
When no one seemed to notice, his brother's voice boomed loud enough that August was sure the walls shook. "Enough!"
A startled hush fell over the cursed citizens and they took their seats.
The doors to the lurking writer's right burst open, revealing a very harried looking Sheriff Graham Hubert. He looked as if he'd spent the better part of the day on a wild and unsuccessful chase, and when his gaze fell on the twins it became clear that he hadn't been the one to release them from custody. His hand lingered near his holstered gun.
Soren smirked and, with a twitch of his fingers, the gun went flying, pulling several confused and startled gasps from onlookers. "Take a seat, Sheriff."
Graham's dark gaze remained fixed on the gun just a few yards away now, cursed mind desperately trying to piece together an explanation it could understand. He recovered quicker than August would have given him credit for, though, and turned back to the men he must have had in a jail cell until very recently. "I don't know what game you're playing at, but —"
Silas tilted his head and a chair seemed to move of its own volition. Metal scraped across the wooden floors and took Graham out at the knees from behind, forcing him into the seat and it continued its path up to the stage with the sheriff in it. Once there, the cleric flashed a truly vicious smile, seeming to soak up the panic that was brewing around them. "Your queen can't protect you now," he directed at Graham.
Soren took a step forward, addressing the increasingly nervous crowd. "And the Queen's pet can't protect you. You answer to us now."
"What Queen?" Granny demanded from the crowd. "And who the hell are you?"
Silas' terrifying smile only broadened. "We're the ones you answer to now."
This was worse than even August's active imagination could have predicted. He needed to get out of there. He needed to —
A flash of smoke cut him off from what he'd hoped would be a quiet exit and Soren stepped out of it, magic having repositioned him there. "You're not going anywhere, Puppet. All your friends are gone. You're one of them now." He motioned to the powerless crowd.
Great. This was getting worse by the minute.
—-
She had known Magnus for many, many years. He'd been a man once. A pious man with hopes and dreams of leaving the world they lived in better than he'd found it. He spoke of it often. Clerics had gathered to him, listened to him, his booming voice carrying across crowds that hung on every word. He wanted to strive for a world with no pain, no evil, and while it was a noble goal, Reul Ghorm had lived long enough to know it was not an altogether achievable one. Though to find balance in the world, good must always struggle against evil, so she admired the man for his had been so long ago now. Before the Dark One's curse and before the obsession rooted itself deep in his soul. He'd only been a man then. She wasn't sure exactly what he'd become since.
After the first Dark One had appeared, Magnus had set his eyes on ending that curse. As time dragged on and the curse's power grew, Blue had watched as he crossed line after line in pursuit of his new goal. The Dark Ones had always vexed him - the curse proving impossible to eradicate thus far - but there was something about Rumplestiltskin that had finally tipped him over the ledge. Blue had kept her distance after her failed attempt to help poor Baefire save his father as a boy and had only intervened when truly necessary. She hadn't stepped in when the dark sorcerer had flung a curse powerful and complex enough to destroy the cleric's eyes beyond repair and she hadn't had a hand in Magnus' near destruction of the same man two centuries later. It hadn't been until the prophecy of the Dark Curse that the Blue Fairy found herself entangled in this endless battle. He would come through, he'd told her. That much he'd seen to. What he had needed from her - demanded from her, calling in every favour he swore she owed - was the ability to retain his memories.
And she'd done that for him.
How he'd known, she still wasn't certain. It had taken a tremendous amount of planning in precious little time to prepare the memory potions in a way that would be safely delivered. It had been a year before she'd happened to stumble across hers as she had brewed a cup of tea. By then, Magnus had already been awake. Thankfully he hadn't discovered her entire stash, though. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Enough to give them hope as a cleric that might have once been a hero spiraled closer and closer to becoming the darkest of villains.
"I don't understand exactly what it is you'd like me to do," Mary Margaret said as she wrapped her hands around the steaming mug, but hadn't taken a sip yet. She seemed focused on who she believed was Mother Superior. "Mr Dawson is —"
"A threat to everyone in Storybrooke, I'm sad to say."
"Should we call the sheriff? I think he took my phone…"
Blue resisted the urge to sigh. Sweet as Mary Margaret was, it was Snow she needed now. "How is your tea? Too warm?"
The dark haired woman inhaled the steam before taking a slow, intentional sip. "No, it's…" Her voice tapered off as her eyes lost focus for just a moment. The change came as the sharpness returned. It was in the tilt of her chin and the squaring of her shoulders. And the recognition. "Blue," she breathed.
The fairy smiled. "Hello, Snow."
She remembered that rush as memories fought for their place where a false past had been implanted. Granted, Snow didn't have quite as long as Blue did to come to terms with. Her expression shifted and settled into something between fear and anger. "He wants Emma. Why does he want my daughter?"
"Let's fetch David and I'll tell you all I know."
—-
It was a strange world that they had been dragged into, and, if his instincts were correct, the one that the Enchanted Forest inhabitants had been pulled away to years prior. When magic had rolled up and over them and time had stopped. It was difficult to say just how long it had been since it had happened or who had enacted it. The rumours had been enough to keep Robin and the Merry Men away from the source. He'd counted them lucky, but now here they were… dragged into the middle. It would have been much more manageable if they hadn't brought Roland along, but that very much seemed to have been the point.
His young son clung to him, nose buried in the crook of his neck as they made their way through a snow topped graveyard and towards a large building made of stone and wood. The man - Caiden, he was called - had taken Robin's bow and arrows and even the knife hidden in his boot as he'd used magic to teleport them there. All he had were his wits, but he'd be damned if he let them lay a finger on his child.
"Papa, I'm scared," Roland whispered.
Robin kissed the side of his head. "I'm right here." He leaned closer so only the boy could hear him. "Are you watching?" He felt a nod. "Good lad."
Caiden led them up the stairs and Robin found himself being watched closely by women dressed in strange, dark frocks as they made their way through the large doors. The women cleared a path, silent and nervous, and Roland tightened his grip.
"Isn't it about time you tell me why we're here?" Robin demanded and Caiden didn't bother to turn as he answered.
"We need your help. Magnus will explain the details."
"Let me guess. This has something to do with your war against the Dark One." Caiden paused at a set of doors, hand pressed lightly as if he were pausing before opening it. "You think I didn't hear that?" Robin growled, shifting Roland in his arms so that he was positioned between the threat and his son. "You chose the wrong man for this. I owe him a debt."
"One that you'll be relieved of once this is done," Caiden said softly and looked to his left where one of the ladies hesitated. "Sister Astrid, please take the boy and keep him safe. Do not let him out of your sight."
Robin pulled in a steadying breath as his son clung tighter. They might be in a strange world with a strange enemy, but in the end it wasn't too different from what they'd always prepared for. The boy was a Locksley. Even if he was afraid, he would know what to do. "Remember what I taught you," Robin murmured and kissed him again. Finally, Roland loosened his grip just enough to slip free and slide to the ground.
Sister Astrid offered a sweet smile and an outstretched hand. "I'll take good care of you while your dad talks to Mr Dawson."
Roland hesitated for just a moment before releasing his father's hand and taking Astrid's, following her down the hall.
The sound of the door opening drew Robin's attention back around and Caiden was already moving through it into a dimly lit, albeit large room. Candles burned and a man sat with his broad back to them, legs crossed and palms pressed against the wooden floor beneath him. It shimmered, rippling as water would around a stone dropped into its depths. Though instead of rippling outward, it moved in and towards the man's hands.
"Welcome, Robin of Locksley." The voice reverberated all around them and Robin squared his shoulders as the figure began to move in an unhurried fashion. "I trust Jefferson provided you with a comfortable journey?"
"Somehow I doubt comfort is your foremost goal."
A rough, strange sound left him and Robin thought it may have been something of a laugh. As he turned, though, and the thief caught sight of those milky white eyes surrounded by scars, he remembered the name Caiden had given. Magnus. He'd heard of the old, blind cleric before. Heard of him in the same way he'd heard of the Dark One before slipping into his castle in an attempt to save Marian's life. He was a legend, his name whispered around campfires. Sometimes he was a hero that vanquished evil, but sometimes he was a man blinded in more ways than one who had lost sight of his original oaths to protect. His only goal was to destroy the Dark One, and he would burn the worlds to rid them of his enemy.
"Why am I here?" Robin managed, unable to look away from those strange eyes.
An eerie, unnatural smile spread. "I have put things into motion. The Dark One will return to Storybrooke, but he's a clever demon. He's always known how to hide from me. But you… you will track him down and bring him to me."
"Even if I wanted to help you, I don't know this place."
"I suggest you make yourself a quick study. Your boy's counting on you."
—
Belle woke to the sound of someone retching. The first thought that her sleep-addled brain provided to her was that it was Emma again, but there had been a bathroom in Emma and Bae's room and this sound was coming from theirs. She reached over to the right side of the bed and found it empty, giving her the more likely candidate.
She tossed off the covers and padded her way over to where the door stood ajar to find Rumple seated on the floor of the bathroom and leaned over the toilet with his cane propped against the sink next to him. At least that explained how he'd gotten in there quietly enough that he hadn't woken her.
A long moment passed, then another before his entire body tensed again and his stomach attempted to expel what little he had inside of it. Belle inched in a bit further and grabbed a washcloth, turning the sink on warm to wet it. When he was done - at least for the moment - she handed him the dampened cloth.
"Thank you," he rasped and she caught sight of the thick, dark liquid in the toilet bowl. When he brought the washcloth away from his lips, the same seemed to stain it. He glanced at it then up at her and she realised she must have been gawking with the strained smile he tried for. "Despite appearances, this is a good sign."
"The poison?"
"The curse was feeding it in Storybrooke. Without it… shouldn't be long till I'm rid of it."
He settled back against the wall and she reached over to fill a glass full of tap water. He took it gratefully and, as he took small sips, she sank down to the floor with her back to the sink. "Do you feel better, at least?"
"A bit." He took another careful sip and his dark eyes flickered up to meet hers. "Once it's out of my system, I should be able to go back."
"You still need time to recover," Belle pointed out.
Rumple let his head thump lightly against the wall behind him. "Magnus may not be able to kill Regina, but he'll use everyone that Emma's grown attached to to lure her back. Bae'd be fine - he wasn't caught up in the curse - but you and I…. At best we'd revert back to our cursed selves."
"She's why we made it over?"
"Yes."
He looked exhausted, even if the colour was slowly starting to creep back into his cheeks. "You can't fight him like this."
"No, we'll need to get the lay of the land. I have a place in the woods. Should do nicely to regroup there."
Regroup. She wished they could do more than regroup. From the moment that she'd gotten her memories back she felt like it'd been a race. There was some downtime, it was true, but within Storybrooke the threat of Magnus and his clerics always loomed over them. When they'd left, they'd been racing towards the goal of saving the man she loved, but that wouldn't have been the end. They all knew it. There were others that they had to go back for… some that had risked everything and others that knew nothing at all. If Rumple was able to go back, they couldn't delay.
There was a soft knock at the door that connected their room to Bae and Emma's and Belle glanced over. "What time is it?" her love asked tiredly and Belle pushed herself to her feet, glancing at the clock. "Six and forty two," she read the numbers and received a soft, amused chuckle for her efforts.
"Just six-forty-two, dear," he corrected softly and shifted carefully to his knees. "Too early for Bae. Would you let Emma in?"
He was already reaching for his cane as she nodded and padded on bare feet to open a door that had never been locked. Rumple was right. Emma Swan stood in the opening with her blonde hair sticking out at odd angles and puffy shadows under her eyes like she'd cried herself to sleep the night before. She motioned back to the room. "Neal's still sleeping, but it sounded like you guys are up…"
"And you're in need of answers," Rumple said from behind and Belle turned to find Rumplestiltskin standing - mostly steady - with his hands against his cane and a look of authority somehow surrounding him, despite the fact she'd just found him bent over a toilet a handful of minutes before.
The blonde teen squared her shoulders. "I think you owe me that."
An amused chuckle left him. "Oh do I?"
"You do," Belle answered with an encouraging smile. "Is there a place where I can get us some coffees?"
"I saw a Starbucks in the lobby earlier," Emma offered.
For what it was worth, Rumple still looked more amused than irritated. He motioned to where a couple of plastic pieces the same size as his credit card sat next to his discarded - and rarely used - cell phone. "Have them charge it to the room."
She nodded and offered Emma an encouraging glance before stepping out and hoping that Rumple would be willing to trust the girl with the truth. She deserved that much.
—-
An awkward silence followed Belle's departure and Emma shifted uncomfortably, finally half-closing the door and nodding back. "If Neal wakes up and thinks I left, he's gonna freak."
Rumplestiltskin wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that, but he thought he understood the sentiment. Bae would be afraid she'd left if he woke alone. Fair enough. At least with the door cracked he could hear her voice once he stirred.
She moved further into the room in a way that indicated she didn't quite know where to begin and Rumple shuffled to the bed and took a seat. His cane remained in one hand, ready should he need to move again, but not so ready that he looked as if he were ready to flee the conversation. "What is it you'd like to know?"
That caught her attention, and Emma moved to the shuttered windows, pulling back at the thick curtains to look out at the town that lay somewhere between Storybrooke and Boston. She seemed fascinated by something for a long moment, or perhaps she was just gathering her thoughts. Finally, she loosed a breath. "So, um… I was dropped on the side of the road as a baby. Nothing but a blanket and some kid found me. I grew up in the foster system and I didn't have anyone until…"
Rumplestiltskin watched her as she struggled through her own past.
"It doesn't matter. What does is that I've been looking for my parents - my real parents - my whole life. You told me I was tied into this."
"As are they," Rumple offered.
"How?"
The Dark One steeled himself, silently grateful that his curse couldn't reach him here in more than the barest of whispers. "In our world, I can see the future. Pieces, at any rate. I knew your parents would be important to finding my son because you would be important."
"Neal said Mary Margaret is my mom and the guy that was in the coma is my dad."
"Both true."
She snorted, the sound strained. "So I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and I just happened to meet the son of Rumplestiltskin and fall in love with him? Do you know how insane that is?"
"More insane than magic in a land with little to give?" He waited for that to sink in for a moment before standing slowly, moving to join her at the window.
Emma swallowed hard. "If they're the same people from fairytales, they're heroes. What am I supposed to be?"
He found hazel eyes on him and he pursed us lips together, forcing truth through them. He had to keep her onboard. He had to keep her on their side. "You were the key."
"To what?"
"The curse. I'm… good with names. Just before the curse was cast I got yours. I knew you'd be the one to break it. To save them."
"Break it… you mean… my parents could remember me?"
"Indeed they would." He watched that sink in.
"Why me though?"
Rumplestiltskin's lips quirked up. "There's no magic more powerful than True Love, dear, and you're born from it."
She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I can barely take care of myself. How am I supposed to save a whole town?"
A soft breath escaped him. "You weren't meant to just yet."
"What do you mean?"
"Twenty-eight. That's what I saw. Exactly that. You'd come to Storybrooke and that would, eventually, lead me to Bae, but… he came. He brought you." He turned to meet her gaze. She deserved that much. "What that means for the curse, I don't know. But what I do know is that you're meant for something more than you've lived. Bae may not have known who you are, but fate's funny like that."
"I have to go back for them. Regina, my parents…. Everyone."
He pushed an amused sound out through his nose. "You are your parents' child."
"Hey," a sleepy greeting pulled both of their attentions around to where Bae stood bleary eyed. "You explain everything?"
"As best I could."
"You good?"
Emma nodded and Barlfire sauntered in, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. "We going back?"
Rumplestiltskin pulled in a surprisingly strong breath. "I think the poison's just about cleared out. Belle's bringing up coffee though. I imagine we should wait."
The simultaneous agreement pulled a real smile from him and he looked to Emma. "Don't fret, dear. You've got some time yet before you have to be anyone's savior."
Bae tightened his hold on her. "Yeah. This is a team effort."
She nodded, even though she didn't look like she entirely believed it. That was fine. She didn't have to. She only needed to live it.
—
They wouldn't let Roland see his papa. Sister Astrid was nice enough, but he didn't like the people that had brought him here and he really didn't like the mean man that had taken Papa away. They wouldn't let him out - "We'll build a snowman in the morning," Sister Astrid had promised. "Won't that be fun?" - but the nice lady stayed to read him a bedtime story.
Roland didn't fall asleep though. To stay awake, he thought about all the things his papa had taught him to do if mean men ever took him. Papa said to watch everything and not to be scared. He just needed to get free and get to the woods and to burrow next to the river where they stored treasure. Papa would find him. No matter what. He's come for him.
The boy waited until Sister Astrid's voice trailed off and he cracked one eye open to see her slumped down in her chair, the book in her lap and her head tilted back in sleep. He waited a little longer - people always woke up if you made noise right after they fell asleep - and finally risked moving. The bed gave a creak and he watched, but the lady didn't stir. After another second or two more, Roland grabbed his boots and his cloak, put them on, and climbed up on the bed so he could reach the window.
It was stuck. It was cold outside and the snow had frozen to it, but he gave it a sharp pull and it broke free. Sister Astrid stirred at that, but Roland was already moving. Out the window, dropping to the porch below, and he darted towards the woods out back. He couldn't let them catch him.
He hit the tree line and heard noise behind him, including the nice lady shouting his name worriedly. He didn't look back, but instead ran through the thick brush, crawled over a fallen tree, and didn't stop. If he did, they'd find him. They'd catch him. He had to get away from the bad men like Papa taught him.
He was tired though, and he didn't recognise anything, even as the earliest morning light began to brighten up his surroundings. This wasn't Sherwood Forest. He didn't know where he was and if he couldn't find the safe place, Papa wouldn't know where to find him.
Roland sniffed hard, running his sleeve across his nose and he heard the sound of the people chasing him. Always look around, Papa had said. He did, and he spotted an opening in the side of a hill that was overgrown and covered with brush. He risked oneglance back before darting forward, slipping through the growth and into the space.
It was dark and cold and it smelled funny, but at least he heard the sound of footsteps racing by. They hadn't found him.
He looked around, the growth blocking most of the light from the outside, but as the footsteps died out, he thought he heard something from deeper inside. He didn't know what, but as he inched closer and closer to the sound - finding the walls of the cave narrow and the ground under his feet slope down - he started to get a better look at where he was. His eyes were adjusting some, but there was also light coming from deeper down. He followed it, careful to stay quiet, until he rounded into a tunnel lit with strange torches lining the wall. He followed them and the noise that sounded like someone was really, really mad.
And she was. It was a lady with dark hair that was yelling at the walls. The walls didn't yell back, which only seemed to make her more mad. Roland jumped back, accidentally kicking loose gravel at his feet and she spun on him. The rage in her eyes softened just a little as her dark eyebrows drew together, her focus entirely on him. "And who are you?" she demanded and Roland stood frozen where he was.
TBC
Notes: Poor Roland. Regina's a terrifying figure when you stumble into one of her tantrums :')
It's been so great to see that folks are still interested in reading this story! Hope you're still enjoying it!
Next Time: Regina finds herself responsible for a small child while Rumple and the others make their way back into Storybrooke.