Every Brand New Road

Episode references: S2E1: Broken, S2E10: The Cricket Game

A/N: This is a sequel to my previous fic, "Wishing on a Shooting Star and Thinking that a Heart Won't Lie." I'd recommend reading that one before starting this, but bare bones? Neal never abandoned Emma. They hooked up again after they'd both served their time and, shortly after Emma's twenty-eighth birthday, Neal followed her to Storybrooke. Now the Dark Curse has been broken, and besides coping with finding her parents at last, Emma also has to deal with the realization that she doesn't really know the man she loves nearly as well as she'd thought.

Everything seems so clear
When you're looking back from such a distance
When the road not taken disappears
Into the path of least resistance
But once upon a time
Oh so long ago
Underneath this same old sky
Every brand new road

Would know that we were heroes in our own hometown

—Mary Chapin Carpenter, "Hero In Your Own Hometown"

Chapter One

Rumple was sitting down at the table, Bae on one side of him, Belle on the other, when he felt it. For the last hour and a half or so, he'd been buoyed aloft by a wave of euphoria. Belle was alive. His son was here. They were both at his side and his heart was singing and he knew that if he tried to speak now, he was going to cry, so instead, he was holding fast to their hands and not caring that he was probably grinning like a simpleton.

It had been a long time since he'd felt joy. For a long time, it hadn't been possible: the Dark Curse had been tailored to Regina's desires and, as such, the only happy endings possible had been her own. Not that his life had been truly miserable, just wholly unremarkable and rather monotonous. Even once the curse had begun to break, he'd have still been hard-pressed to say that he'd had any truly happy moments, though he'd certainly had his fair share of satisfying ones.

Now, everything was different. It had taken him over two centuries of heartache and sacrifice, dealing, bargaining, and at times, he'd had to avail himself of options that were quite a bit Darker, but at last, he had his son—with whom he'd never lost hope of reuniting, and the woman he loved—with whom, to his great shame, he had. After more than two centuries, he'd almost forgotten what joy felt like, but now it washed over him in waves, wrapping itself about him like a quilt, infusing every pore with a warm tingling sensation…

…It took him some time to realize that the tingling he was feeling wasn't joy at all, but something far more familiar and even more welcome.

Belle's chair faced the kitchen window, so she saw it first. "Rumple..." she said hesitantly, "what is that?"

Rumple turned to look behind him. His eyes widened, and he heard Bae's sharp intake of breath as his son also turned his head. "Papa?"

He didn't answer at first. He was staring at the roiling purple fog as it swirled nearer. It was only as it engulfed the house, pouring through the walls as though they were made of mesh that he whispered wonderingly, "Magic…"

The tension in Granny's was thick enough that Emma felt like she was walking through Jell-O as she and her parents—her parents who were about her age, give or take a year… Wait. Was she actually older than they were? She was feeling the beginnings of a headache. Did Granny keep aspirin behind the counter? Actually, a shot or two of tequila would probably work just as well, as long as she didn't combine the two and… She was getting sidetracked. She had to forget everything else that had happened in the last twenty-four hours and focus on the dozen or so people occupying the two tables in the corner. The people, she reminded herself. Not the torches and pitchforks, and where the hell did they find pitchforks? She knew every one of these people and there wasn't a farmer among them. "Hey, guys," she said, keeping her voice soft. "What's up?"

Whale fixed her with a hard look. "Apparently, the curse," he said. "Only we're all still here. Any idea why that might be?"

"Yeah," Mr. Clark said. "Shouldn't we be going… going… ahhhhhhh-CHOO! …home?"

"Snow?" Winston Blythe looked past Emma. "Any ideas?"

Mary Margaret shook her head. "Sorry, Happy," she said with a gentle smile, "I don't know either."

"Then I say we get answers from the person who brought us here in the first place," Dr. Whale snapped. "Regina!"

A chorus of voices babbled their agreement. And then, a peculiar look came over Leroy's face and he pushed back his chair and all but ran to the diner's glass window.

"What the hell is that?" David asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't know," Leroy said, but it's getting closer. It…" His eyes opened wide as purple smoke billowed into the diner. "IT'S HERE!"

Regina's sobs had stilled. It had been a long time since she'd wept so unconsciously. Cora had trained most emotional displays out of her and punished her for lapses. Yes, she'd shed a tear when she'd ripped out her father's heart. She'd shed more than one when the pirate she'd hired to assassinate her mother had presented her with the proof of his success. She honestly couldn't remember now if she cried when she'd seen little Owen Flynn on the other side of the town line that last time, or only felt as though she might. But the last time she'd wept, really and truly ugly-cried had been up in her room, the night she'd lost Daniel. At least, until now. Her son was lost to her and there was no getting him back now. Emma was going to drive him over the town line and take him into the outside world, where Regina knew, she would never be able to find either of them again.

Rumple had been right about one thing, though: she might well have to plan such a journey. When the Curse had broken, everyone around had been too stunned to turn on her, but she couldn't expect that state of affairs to last. She did need to leave here, and the sooner the better. She bit her lip. It would be dark soon and the idea of traveling at night into the unknown didn't sit well with her. On the other hand, she wasn't about to wait here to be torn apart by her formerly-loyal subjects.

She rose to her feet. She needed to pack.

She took a moment to look out Henry's window. The sky was growing dark. She was hardly a romantic, but this was probably the last time that she would ever see the sun set over Storybrooke. She could take a moment to fix the scene in her head…

A puzzled frown creased her face. She wouldn't have thought that she would see so much purple if the clouds were this thick. Where was the sun?

And then her eyebrows climbed high and her frown yielded to a delighted smile. The clouds weren't part of the sunset, but neither was the purple. She opened the window and held out her hands, feeling her fingertips prickle. She imagined that her hair was standing on end as the winds spun and swirled, bring magic ever closer.

On second thought, perhaps she didn't need to leave so quickly after all.

Neal looked frantically from his father to Belle and back again. "How?" he demanded. "I… I spilled out the potion. You saw me do it." He frowned. "That was the real potion, right?"

Rumple nodded.

"And the only vial? You didn't have another bottle stashed somewhere?"

Rumple shook his head. "I understand why you're suspicious, son," he said, "and I've certainly no right to be angry or hurt by the accusation, but even if the potion were a decoy, even if I had secreted an additional supply, has either of us been out of the other's sight since you came into the shop?"

Almost imperceptibly, Neal relaxed. Papa was right. "Then how?" he asked, sounding more puzzled than accusatory this time.

Rumple shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm as mystified by it as you are."

"I wonder whether it mightn't have got into the groundwater," Belle suggested. When both men turned to look at her, she shrugged. "You gave me a library once," she said. "I'll admit some of the books were a bit drier than others, but they showed me that for all my tutors and all my studies before I came to work for you, there was still so much I hadn't even realized was missing from my education." She shook her head. "I hated being ignorant. Always have." She winced. "The last twenty-eight years haven't been especially pleasant."

Rumple's eyes narrowed. "I was going to ask you about that," he said. "After I sent you away… What happened?"

Belle looked down. "I was abducted," she said softly.

"Regina." It was almost a hiss.

Belle nodded. "She locked me away until her curse and, I've been in the asylum ever since."

"For twenty-eight years?" There was no mistaking the note of horror in his voice. "All these years," he continued, shaking his head, "you've been here. Alive." His eyes went flat. "Regina has a great deal to answer for."

"No," Belle said. "No, Rumple, you mustn't."

Rumple's jaw dropped slightly. "I-I can't let this stand, Belle," he said, his voice almost gentle. Then, louder, "I will not let this stand!"

"Papa," Neal broke in, "you and," his gaze slid to Belle, "Belle aren't the only people with a claim against Regina. I'm betting the whole town's out looking for blood right now."

"Yeah," Rumple agreed, "so if I'm to exact retribution, I'd best do it before there's nothing left to exact it from!"

"Rumple!" Belle's hand shot out and clasped his wrist. "Please, you mustn't!"

"Look," Neal said, "who's in charge now? Mary Margaret and David?"

Rumple nodded slowly. "At least, we can hope so. If the blue gnat steps up instead, she'd best stay out of my way."

"Blue gna—oh, you mean the Reul Ghorm." Neal's quick smile yielded to a puzzled frown, but he shook his head. "Do fairies do that? Take over?"

"It's rare," Rumple allowed, "but it's not impossible."

Neal absorbed that. Then he shrugged. "My money's still on Snow White and David. So… why not talk to them?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Hey, I read Henry's book. They brought her to justice once before."

"Yes, I was there," Rumple said dryly. "They were all set to give the evil queen her just deserts, but in the end, the heart of the princess was just too soft. A lucky thing, too," he added. "Good curse-casters are hard to come by. I wasn't relishing the idea of having to start over from scratch."

Neal winced but bit back the response forming in his mind. "Talk to them anyway," he said. "Look, Snow White showed her mercy once and she reacted by casting the curse, making everyone miserable for twenty-eight years, sticking David in a coma, and framing Mary Margaret for murder! You ask me, Regina's used up her chances. And now, everyone knows it. Maybe you can get what you want by going through the proper chan—" A look of horror came to his face. "Crap. The fog. She's got magic now, too!"

"I would assume so," Rumple said, rising to his feet with a sigh. "Well. I suppose there's no help for it then. Come along, both of you."

"To Mary Margaret and David?" Neal asked, daring to hope that he'd actually gotten through to Papa.

"No, the shop. They'll be banging on the door ere long expecting my help, and in my experience, it's generally prudent not to keep royalty waiting…"

In fact, it was nearly an hour and a half before Emma and her parents arrived. Three pairs of eyebrows shot up when they noticed the row of cups neatly arrayed on the counter. "I was wondering when you'd show up," he said, reaching for the teapot. "There's pu'erh in here, but I do believe there's some orange pekoe and earl grey in the back, if you'd prefer. His visitors looked at one another, nonplussed but nobody took a cup. "Not thirsty, dearies?" He shrugged. "Very well. What can I do for you?"

"What you can do," Emma said—not looking at Neal, who was standing in the doorway that led to the back of the shop, together with Belle—"is tell us what you did."

He crafted an innocent expression. "I'm sorry," he said mildly, "you're going to have to be more specific."

The prince wasn't buying it. "You know damned well what we're talking about," he snapped.

"You double-crossed Emma," Snow White put in. "You took your… uh… potion from her—"

"—and did who knows what to this town," David continued.

"And worst of all," Emma chimed in, "you risked Henry's life!"

Rumple smiled faintly. "Well," he said, "that is quite a litany of grievances, now isn't it?"

Emma scowled back. "Maybe I don't need answers. Maybe I just need to punch you in the face."

"Emma!" Neal broke in.

"Sorry, Neal," Emma snapped. "I know he's your dad. Or at least," she went on, "I know that's what you told me. But," she went on, ignoring the hurt in her fiancé's eyes at that last part, "that doesn't give him a free pass."

She turned back to Rumple. "Talk."

Rumple shrugged. And then, he deliberately poured himself a cup of deep brown liquid. Emma's scowl deepened. He shrugged once more. "Suppose I answer your questions with some of my own, then. Did your dear boy Henry survive?"

Emma glowered. "Yeah."

"Is the curse broken? And let's see. Ms Swan, how long have you been searching for your parents? Looks like you're reunited. Seems like, rather than a punch in the face, I deserve a thank you."

Emma didn't back down. "Twist my words all you want. What was that purple haze that you brought?"

Rumple shook his head. "Oh, I didn't bring it dearie, but I know what it is: magic."

"How?" David demanded.

Rumple shook his head. "Not telling."

"Was it that potion?" David demanded.

Rumple sighed. "You're slightly more perceptive than you appear, Dearie."

"If you didn't bring it, then who did?" Snow asked.

"We think I might have," Neal confessed, a bit shamefacedly.

"You?" Emma gaped at him.

"Well, Papa was planning to use it to bring magic here. I talked him out of it, and I spilled it out. Belle thinks it might have got into the groundwater and..." He took another breath. "Looks like it worked after all."

"Are you sure he didn't trick you into doing what he wanted?" David asked.

"He wanted to pour it into the well," Neal replied, a bit tetchily. "I didn't know that spilling it out on the side of the road was going to get it there after all. None of us did."

"Are you positive he didn't?" asked Snow.

Rumple sighed. Then he looked at Belle. "I'm afraid that you weren't entirely correct," he said. At Belle's puzzled look, he went on, "While True Love's Kiss is indeed powerful enough to break any magical curse, I fear it won't suffice for the curse of a bad reputation." He turned back to Emma and her parents. "I didn't know that the water beneath the town feeds the well. Had I been asked, I would have guessed that, as we're on the coast, any water beneath our feet would hail from the sea. But, of course, there's no way I can prove that, is there?"

Emma sighed. "Yeah, there is. And you did. Fine. Then answer me one more question: Why doesn't Regina have her magic back?"

"Doesn't she?" Rumple asked mildly. "How very curious."

"Rumple?" Belle asked.

He shook his head. "Magic works a bit differently here. Rather like a new shoe, when one is used to the old, comfortable one that's been broken in just as you like it. I was prepared for that possibility. She was not."

"You're saying that her magic is going to come back," David said.

"I would imagine so."

"When?" Emma asked.

Rumple shook his head. "There's no real way to predict it, dearie, but once one learns how to unleash one's magical talent, there's no getting rid of it. Oh, it may lie dormant for a time, months, years, even decades, but it will surface eventually." His expression hardened. "So, I'd suggest you take the proper steps now."

"The proper steps?" Snow repeated.

Rumple gave her a knowing look. "The steps you should have taken—and seen through to the end—nearly thirty years ago. If you'd had the mettle to do what needed done then, well, we'd hardly be discussing the matter now, would we?"

"Kill the queen," David intoned flatly.

Rumple smiled.

A/N: Pu'erh tea is the darkest black tea in the world. Seemed appropriate for Rumple to have some. All things considered.