It hits her in the middle of the night and she sits up suddenly with a gasp. She still has her memories, that woman who invaded her mind for 28 years of frozen time. But she has her own memories back, overlaid on top of them. It's confusing, a little frightening. She's still sorting through, remembering who she is, who they all are.
But there's one thing she knows she's forgotten and it creeps around the edges of her mind like twisting vines.
"Mary Margaret?" comes the sleepy voice next to her.
"Snow," she whispers.
"What?"
"Snow. My name is Snow." I am not Mary Margaret. She's both, she knows, memories tangled up inside her mind. Was she born in a sleepy little town to parents who were strict, but wonderful, both educators like she had become? Or was she born into royalty, tormented by a queen who turned evil over one wrong move she had made as a child? She is both. But she doesn't want to be. One is her. The other is a construct created by her worst enemy.
"What's wrong?" David mumbles again. His eyes are half open, but there's lines written into his face, lines she doesn't remember seeing before all of this.
"Rumplestiltskin," she whispers. She's half afraid of saying his name. He was trapped, there in their world, in the mines below their castle. Trapped by fairy dust and Dwarven ingenuity. He was there when the curse was cast, hanging from the rafters, like some sort of deranged bat. He's been their shadow, all that time, pushing at them, tormenting them. She's not sure who he is or what he wanted exactly. But he was there every step of the way.
David sits up at the sound of the imp's name and she watches as his eyebrows lower and he glances quickly around the room. "I don't remember seeing him during the curse."
She's wracking her brain, but surely one would remember him. He's not one who could hide behind a genteel exterior. Skin mottled gold and green, reptilian eyes, wild hair and claws. Rumplestiltskin is no ordinary creature.
"He must be here," Snow says and there's an urgency behind the words. "He has to be. Everyone is." Ruby and Granny, all of the dwarves, even the Evil Queen and her magic mirror. Everyone was there. The Queen took them all when the curse was cast.
David is pulling himself out of bed before she can even get out another word. "The basement," he mutters and she realizes his thoughts. Could it be so simple? Could he still be trapped, somewhere in the dark reaches of their own quiet home? They live in a loft. There are others there. Are they all in danger?
She gets up to follow but he puts a hand out to stop her. "No. You need to stay here. Safe."
Snow shakes her head. He means well, she knows. He'll protect her until he draws his last breath. But not this time. She can't let him go it alone. "No, David. We go together." Like the last time they saw him, when they crept down into his dank dungeon like they were the ones doing wrong, covered in cloaks and hiding their faces from the one creature who knew them before they even stepped into the light.
This time they'll face him directly, spines straight, focused. He may be one of the most powerful wizards in the world, maybe even the most powerful, but they will not let him see their fear. Not this time.
David nods and they make their way out of the loft, down the stairs. They've never been in the basement before, though she's sure someone must have gone down. Grumpy, she realizes. He's been their handy-man. Maybe we should call him first…
But it's too late for hesitation. David has the door open and strides ahead of her. He takes the steps two at a time, rushing headlong to whatever is at the bottom.
She follows more slowly, careful. She needs to see but at the same time fears what they might discover. Just who will he be in this world? What would 28 more years of captivity due to the imp? His hold on his sanity, such as it was, had been tenuous at best in those last months before the queen finally cast the curse.
"He's not here."
David's voice comes to her before she's even hit the last step. She rushes down them to stand at his side.
It's a basement.
Like any other.
She's not sure what she expected exactly. But the brightness of the fluorescent lightbulbs lighting up an empty space, only a large furnace and a few discarded chairs in one corner was definitely not what she thought would there.
"He's not," she echoes.
David turns to look at her and finally…finally…there is worry written into the lines across his brow. She knows exactly what he's thinking, their connection loud and clear in that moment of panic.
If he's not here…where is he?
It's only been two days. Two days of freedom. Two days of knowing who she is. She can't even comprehend how she forgot. How she spent 28 years trapped in a mind that was completely devoid of her. She remembers staring into space. She remembers the nurse. Cold, quiet, stern. The only change to her days of dull routine the dark eyes that came to watch her sometimes, the red lips turned upward in a chilling imitation of a smile.
Crazy.
You'll hurt yourself.
She feels she's been branded for so long, her memories locked away behind some wall she could never quite access.
I didn't even know my own name.
But now she's free of that. She's on the outside. She's found Rumplestiltskin.
She always intended to return, had in fact set her feet on that path before being locked away by a demented queen. And Rumplestiltskin? He thought she was dead. She'd always wondered, really, why he never came for her. He just let her go. But surely if he knew, if he'd heard. But the queen made sure, filling his mind with images of her capture, her torture, her death. He knows the truth now and though he's vowed to not seek revenge, a part of her knows better.
He will.
It's his way.
"Belle?"
She hears his voice come from downstairs and she can't help the smile that ghosts across her face. Everything feels right when he's there. He knows his way around this world, the way things like toasters and refrigerators work. He is calm and patient with her, as if he has something to atone for.
He threw you out.
But she knows. She knows the fear behind his words, his actions. Deep in those inhuman eyes something was always lurking. She lived with him long enough to see past it. And though it hurt, though it stung, though she was angry, she still knew.
"Coming!" She steps lightly down the stairs and the smile that lights up his face is worth every damned moment of pain.
"Hey." He turns shy when he sees her and something about it makes her heart skitter just a little bit out of control.
"Hey." She's not really familiar with the word, not from their world, but she's heard it often enough from him to understand the context. This world is strange and yet not so strange at the same time. Words like a simple hello are shortened, abbreviated. It's as if people in this world don't have the time for more.
But not Rumplestiltskin. He has all the time in the world. For her at least. She's heard his voice turn impatient, annoyed, when facing others. She hides upstairs, not sure if she can manage to face them all. Most especially when she hears her voice. The Queen. The Evil Queen.
"I…uh…I thought you might like to go out tonight. Granny's…" He clears his throat and she finds she likes this hesitant side of him. He covered it up with anger and bluster in their world. But here he's quieter, softer.
"Out?" She tries to push back the little bit of panic that rises to the surface. This isn't you, she reminds herself. Do the brave thing.
"Only if you'd like to," he's quick to assure her, hands held out, splayed, somewhat awkward.
She takes a moment, one deep breath after another. You can do this. Do the brave thing. Her mother's words are like a mantra inside her mind. "Yes," she finally says. "I think I'd like that."
She has to face the town sometime.
She has to face her sometime. Do the brave thing. She's brave. No one can defeat her. She once told the Evil Queen she'd always fight for Rumplestiltskin. And now she needs to fight for him. And for herself. She stands a little taller as Rumplestiltskin gives her that same crooked grin that she fell in love with so long ago.
She's made the right decision. She's sure of it.
"I don't recognize her," Snow whispers to Ruby. There's a woman sitting in Granny's with Gold. And actual real live woman choosing to spend time with Gold. She watches them for a moment more before turning back to Ruby.
"She wasn't here during the curse," Ruby whispers back and Snow feels a slight frisson of fear work its way up her back, settling somewhere in the middle of her shoulder blades.
"Are you sure?" But she knows she is. The woman wasn't one they'd likely forget. She's a tiny thing and Snow thinking that says a lot as she's fairly small herself. And she's beautiful, but everyone calls Snow the fairest in the land. No, there's something else. She shines with some sort of inner light, her eyes bright as she focuses on her strange dinner companion, her smile lighting up the room as she leans closer to him.
"Would you really forget Gold having a woman?" Ruby points out and Snow continues to watch them.
"He's flirting with her." She whispers the words as she turns back to Ruby. The other woman, tall and a little wolfish, raises one eyebrow. They've known each other forever it seems and Snow doesn't need to hear the words to know what she's thinking. Snow doesn't know Gold well and she's often thankful for that. But she remembers him during the curse. Cold, dignified. He wears suits that probably cost more than a month of her salary as a teacher. He leans on a cane that probably costs a week's worth of her rent. He never smiles, though she recalls the occasional sneer that might almost be called a smirk. Her husband knows him better. She recalls him going to him more than once during those months he was awake and yet still cursed.
But here he looks looser. His body language mirrors the woman in front of him and he's so focused on her, his eyes bright and that sneer she's seen missing. His mouth looks soft and she's surprised to see the woman with him glance downward at his lips as he speaks. There's…longing…there.
And then it hits her.
"Who was he?" Snow manages to wrench her eyes away from the couple and turn back to Ruby. She doesn't have to say more. Ruby knows what she means. Who was he in our world?
"I don't know," Ruby responds with, shaking her head slightly. "But whoever he is, she looks like she wants to eat him right up." The taller woman gives a little shudder. "I can't stand to watch this." And then she's gone, grabbing the rag off the table and disappearing into the back.
Snow is left to ponder the whole situation. Just who was Gold, anyway? She can't recall seeing him in their world anywhere, yet here in theirs he acts the part of King, going up against the Evil Queen in ways both subtle and strange. Putting her daughter in place as sheriff, making deals for babies and then again for some mysterious "favor," watching…always watching. Sometimes it seems Gold has been everywhere during the curse. But she can't remember him.
And she feels like she should.
"Her name is Belle," Henry says when Snow asks him about the woman with Gold.
"I don't remember any Belle." Snow glances at David and he shakes his head.
"I think she's the beauty," Henry says, as if that makes any sort of sense to anyone.
"Well, she's certainly beautiful…" Snow starts to say and Henry heaves a sigh. When did he become such a teenager?
"Beauty and the Beast?" Henry says with exasperation in his voice. "Come on Grandma, surely you've heard that one…"
Snow screws up her nose for a moment, trying to search through Mary Margaret's memories. But David is quicker in his response.
"Are you saying Gold is the beast?" Snow glances at him, realizing where his train of thought went.
"What does Gold have to do with this?" Now it's Henry's turn to screw up his nose and for a moment, Snow smiles. He reminds her of her when he does that, some part of her that has skipped a generation. Emma never does that.
"She's been seen with Gold," David responds with.
"And only Gold," Snow says and she realizes the truth of that. She's seen them exiting the shop, arm in arm, seen them at Granny's leaning across the table, completely focused on each other. He's watched him stand near the door of the library, leaning heavily on his cane and clearly waiting for her. "They're obviously in a relationship." The words choke a little in her throat as she speaks them.
"Who is Gold?" David speaks the words aloud that Snow has been wondering.
Henry shrugs. "I don't know. I've never seen him in my book…"
"Never?" Snow's voice is sharper than she intends.
"Is that Beauty and the Beast story in there?" Snow reaches for the book but Henry pulls it back out of her grasp. He sets it down on the nearest table and thumbs through it.
"It is," he mutters. "But the beast is never visible."
Snow glances down at the page. The woman on it is certainly Belle. "Yes that's her!" But as she flips through the few pages that tell the story, there's nothing else there. Belle holding a tea tray with a broken piece of pottery on it. A shadowy figure watching out of a tower, destroying a cabinet in anger. Just a blur, hidden in half-light when everyone else in the book is clear.
David leans over her should to look. "Well, that could be anyone," he offers completely unhelpfully.
"Gold doesn't seem very beast-like," Snow points out. She remembers Mary Margaret watching the Disney version. The beast was large, hairy, a figure that towered over the tiny Belle.
"He doesn't," David agrees.
"Maybe he's not the beast," Henry offers. "Maybe their story didn't end happily." There's a bit of gloom about it.
"And so the beauty takes up with someone else? Some…" Snow wracks her brain, trying to imagine who Gold might have been back in their world. She can't. "Some random shopkeeper?" It's all she's got. What else could a pawn shop owner have been back in their world?
"Maybe he was a tax collector." David's suggestion really isn't quite so harebrained. The way he and his man, Dove, have gone around collecting rent since the beginning of the curse makes her wonder about that one.
"Oh!" Snow exclaims. "Maybe he was a thief." The last is whispered conspiratorially, as if she had come up with something so exciting she couldn't quite get anything louder out.
"A thief," David repeats and Snow feels a little deflated at his tone.
"Well, yes. I mean…he has all that stuff…"
"Maybe he's just a packrat," Henry offers up.
"That's not a job," Snow responds with.
Henry just gives her a look. "Right," he finally says. "Find out who Gold was. I'll just add that to my list of things to figure out, shall I?"
"I'll help!" She leans in closer to Henry. "We'll call it Operation Gold."
"Grandma," Henry says and there's that exasperated tone again. "That's not very creative." She starts to refute it when Henry reaches out and pats her on the shoulder. "I'll come up with something." And then he's out the door, shouting something about school and needing to go talk to someone.
Snow just shrugs her shoulders.
Gold is really just one more mystery among others. There's Whale, who is keeping a tight lid on his identity. There's the Evil Queen who is no doubt up to something but who has gone to ground for the moment. There's the noble who insists he sent his son off on a quest to rescue something of value from Rumplestiltskin and who never returned before the curse took them all.
And then there's Rumplestiltskin.
He has to be hidden in Storybrooke somewhere. They haven't tried to find if there are other holding cells there…somewhere. He could still be trapped, starving and insane somewhere below the streets of the tiny town they've found themselves in.
There's only one person she knows of who would know. Who knows the town, every nook and cranny, the bright lights of Granny's Diner and the dark underbelly.
Regina.
She's going to have to talk to her.
Desperation makes for strange bedfellows and all that.
"Rumplestiltskin?" Regina laughs that throaty laugh that tells Snow she knows something.
But she won't tell her.
Of course she won't.
Did she really expect any different?
"What on earth would you want with that little imp?" There's more than just annoyance behind the words.
"He…" Snow starts to say and David cuts her off.
"We just need to know where he is. When the curse hit, he was…"
"I know where he was," Regina cuts in with. "I'm well aware that he was holed up beneath your castle." She takes a step forward and she looks like she wants to swish the bottom of her dress, but stops when she realizes she's wearing a pencil skirt and nothing quite so dramatic. Her hands come back to rest at her sides. "You really did drive him quite insane there, didn't you?"
"I think he was already there," Snow mutters. She well remembers facing him in the dark of night, leaving with a potion to forget. Her hair…that's all he wanted and she still cannot even begin to understand what that was about. But David tells her he took his cloak and he once took her mother's necklace just for wasting his time, so she really doesn't know what drives the imp.
David tells her he loved someone once a long time ago and Snow still shudders to think of what kind of twisted version of love that might be.
Regina laughs again. "That may be true." She holds up her hands. "But I don't know where he is here." There's a small tic, just at the side of her mouth. She's lying.
And Snow wants to pursue that lie.
But David puts a hand on her arm and she meets his eyes. Don't go down that road. She knows his thoughts like she knows her own. With an imperceptible nod, Snow backs up a pace or two. Regina smiles, just a cold quirk of her lips, and the door slams in Snow's face.
"She knows something, David." Snow's voice is a mere whisper. "I know she does."
And they turn to leave together. A team. Always a team. They'll have each other's backs until the end of time.
"Are you still trying to figure out where he is?" Emma hops up on the stool next to her mother. That will take some getting used to, she realizes. Her mother. She was her friend, her best friend, even. Roommates. They talked like buddies, shares stories of their dating experiences in some details that she'd really rather forget. She remembers both pushing Snow toward and trying to pull her away from the man she now knows is her father.
What a topsy turvy world.
"What? No." Snow's voice was hazy, distracted, and Emma almost rolled her eyes as she tucked the sheet of paper she'd been working on under the folder she clenched so tightly.
"Really," Emma's voice is flat as she quickly reaches beneath and finds the piece of paper in her hands. Written on it is a list of names. Well, pairs of names, she realizes. Townspeople. And who they were in their world, back in the Enchanted Forest.
Leroy...Grumpy
Red...Ruby
Granny…Granny (?)
Not everyone is paired up. Her mother appears to have no idea who Dr. Whale is. Truth be told, neither does she. She's discovered that his first name is Victor, however, and there's something that niggles at the back of her name about a doctor named Victor. And Mr. Gold, whose first name still appears to not be known to anyone in Storybrooke. She's gone through her list of fairytales and only found one that revolved around a shopkeeper. The Brave Little Tailor. It wasn't one she'd heard of before, but in the story, the tailor uses cunning and trickery to get the girl and his kingdom.
Gold certainly fits. He's cunning, manipulative. He has his Kingdom, even if Regina is the mayor. And apparently he got the girl. Though she's not sure if Belle is truly a princess, but it could be close enough.
"I don't know," Snows says in response to Emma's suggestion. "He's not exactly a tailor, is he?"
"And you weren't really a school teacher…"
"True," Snow concedes.
"We should go see him," Emma interjects.
"Who?"
She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes again. "Gold. If anyone knows who this Rumplestiltskin is, it will be him."
"Do you think so?" Snow sounds half excited and half terrified. Emma's not sure if it's because she is contemplating facing Gold, who somehow manages to twist people up and make them do the things he wants them to do without their ever realizing it was part of his plan, or if it's because she's terrified to find out where Rumplestiltskin really is. Emma knows little of him. Even Henry's book shows him as this sort of terrifying otherworldly shadow figure and she sometimes understands her mother's fear. Where is the imp? Based on her mother's description, she's sure he won't be hard to miss. But no one, absolutely no one, has seen him during the curse or in the days since it was broken.
"I do." She well remembers Gold handing her her father's sword. He was awake during the curse. There are only two people in the town who probably know what became of Rumplestiltskin and one of them isn't talking. "We need to go see him."
Her mother nods, but there's something less than decisive about it. Still, they'll go see him. Nothing may come of it, but Emma is certain of one thing. They need to try. Because otherwise her mother is going to drive her to drink with this newest obsession of hers.
Belle's just walked into the shop with a basket and plans to take Rumplestiltskin out for a picnic when Emma, followed by Snow and David, both looking more than a little sheepish, enter the shop. The bell, which normally has a pleasant tinkling noise, crashes against the wall and Belle can't help but cringe a little.
"Belle." Rumplestiltskin whispers her name, but it's his hand that comes to rest lightly on her forearm that makes her take a deep breath and relax just a little. They're not the Evil Queen. They aren't there to get her, to take her away, lock her up, to hurt him. And she realizes that's the worst part of it all for her. She was taken to hurt him. She was nothing to the Evil Queen, just a pawn in her game of one-upmanship with the man she happened to fall in love with.
"Gold." Emma is the first to speak.
"Miss Swan," he responds with and Belle realizes he's putting on that voice. Overly congenial, slick. It hides whatever true intent that's buried in his brilliant mind. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Cut the crap, Gold." Belle tries to hide a smile. She's not known Emma long, but the woman is clearly tough. She can't imagine most people in their world speaking to Rumplestiltskin in such a way, but there she is, all blue jeans and red leather jacket and attitude. She understands, from what he has told her, that he's played some role in getting her to where she is currently. Guiding her, pushing her, playing chess with her life behind her back. It's Rumplestiltskin at his finest, really.
Rumplestiltskin just smirks and Belle rolls her eyes as she returns to unpacking the picnic basket. If she reads Emma right, she won't be here long. Just long enough to make her demands and depart. It's what most people do in his presence, shying away from spending too much time in the sorcerer's lair…well, lair of sorts. As much like a lair as a pawn shop can be after all. Rumplestiltskin's grand castle reduced to a tiny shop on Main Street. She's still not quite used to that even if so much of it is familiar.
There's a pause and then Rumplestiltskin speaks again. Calm, cool, collected. No impish giggle, no hand flourish. His hands clutch the cane that he still uses to balance himself, despite the return of magic to their world. "I see. Then what can I do for you, Miss Swan?"
It's not Emma who answers, but Snow. "We need to know where the Dark One is."
Belle almost chokes on her own tongue and turns around to stare at them. Rumplestiltskin's eyes flash to hers for just a moment before returning to Emma and her parents, smirk firmly in place. "Belle, dear," he says, his eyes never leaving the trio standing just inside the door. "Why don't you take our lovely lunch to the backroom? I'll be there in just a moment."
She should be annoyed at being dismissed in such a way but she knows it for what it is. They don't know. And Belle can feel the giggle, bubbling up just underneath the surface somewhere. It will overflow soon.
They don't know.
They have no idea. They're standing there, looking at Rumplestiltskin and they have no idea. He looks different, she'll grant them that much. Gone is the leather and the flair. Gone is the wild curled hair and the strange reptilian eyes that so fascinated her upon first meeting him.
They don't know.
He was once a man, just like any other, he's told her. But that was so long ago. There's no one alive left to remember him as he once was. But still, he looks like Rumplestiltskin would if the mottled skin, the wild hair, and the strange eyes were all removed. Maybe it was simply how he acted, moved. Where Rumplestiltskin was slightly crazed, all giggles and mad movement, Gold is calm and collected. But the sharp nose and the piercing gaze. Those haven't changed.
They don't know.
And she muffles her laugh in one of the pillows on the cot in the back. It feels good to laugh, to let go of her fears and anxiety for just a moment. She can take that mantle back on later, when she's not faced with such an absurd thing. But for now she loses herself in the laughter, and wipes the tears from her eyes as they fall.
They don't know. It's almost glorious. She relishes the thought of the looks on their faces when they find out the truth.
Emma watches Gold's face carefully. He's fooled her too often, pushed her forward while never once revealing his plans until after the fact. He's a master at chess, that much is obvious. Only his chess game involves real people. She wonders again if he really isn't that brave little tailor and then recalls someone shouting coward at his retreating form and thinks maybe she's wrong. Or maybe that's his curse. To be thought a coward when he's braver than the rest.
Absolutely no emotions cross his face, not so much as a twitch of his eyelid or a quirking of an eyebrow. She stares at him for a moment longer, waiting to see if there's even a small crack in his armor.
There's not.
There never is.
It's not something Emma is used to really. She's spent years chasing down debtors, collecting money from stones long since bled dry. She's used to watching for those tiny tells, little things that indicate the person is lying. But Gold? She's not sure how he does it, but her so-called "superpower" certainly doesn't work with him.
"Now why ever would you want to find him?" He speaks to Snow, but his eyes remain focused on Emma. He's watching her like she's watching him. Now that is interesting. He's always taken some sort of special interest in her, as weird and slightly creepy as that is. Today appears to be no different.
Snow doesn't speak for a moment and David steps forward, puts a hand lightly on her shoulder. "We just do."
Gold just clucks his tongue at that. "You just…do. That indeed seems to be quite the reason to find the most dangerous sorcerer in our land."
"I…" Snow starts to say.
"Do you know where he is or not?" Emma interrupts with.
"Always right to the point, aren't we Miss Swan?" Gold responds with. She has to fight to not roll her eyes. The breaking of the curse hasn't changed him at all. She sees more strength from her mother, more decisiveness from her father. But Gold? He's still a slimy bastard no matter which way you twist it.
The reality is she doesn't quite know why her mother is so insistent. He's dangerous, she says in a stage whisper. She won't even call him by name most of the time. The Dark One. A ridiculous moniker, really. As if it were invented by some 13-year-old girl writing her first attempts at fanfiction. When she utters his name, her parents share these fearful looks and she wonders if just simply summoning this man (creature, her mother whispers at her) would be that bad of a thing.
"He has to be here somewhere." David steps in front of her as he speaks, a protective stance if there ever is one. "He was in our castle when the curse hit."
Gold's eyebrows rise just slightly. "The Dark One was your guest?" There's something more than surprise in his tone of voice.
"Not exactly…" David starts to say but Snow speaks up then and her voice is firm. For a moment she sounds like the ruler she must have been before the curse took all that away from her.
"He was locked in our dungeon."
There's a crash from the back room and everyone jumps just a little bit. Gold turns away and there's a slight furrow in his brow. "Belle?"
"I'm fine," she answers with but there's an odd tone to her voice.
No one speaks for a moment and then Emma finally turns to face her parents. "You kept a man locked in your dungeon?" That doesn't sound like her parents.
"Oh Emma," Snow says and there's that weird breathless tone to her voice again. "Not a man. Rumplestiltskin is not a man."
Gold steps back, a small shifting of motion. And there's a look on his face. Emma's eyes narrow slightly. "So you don't know anything about his whereabouts?" There's a hard edge to her voice and she steps closer to Gold, invading his space just slightly.
The man holds his ground. She'll give him that much. He's smaller than her, perhaps an inch or so shorter when she's wearing heels. Small, almost frail she'd think if there wasn't something else there, hidden behind his somewhat unassuming exterior.
His eyes meet hers and there's just the hint of an upturn to the edges of his mouth. "Now why would I ever know that, Miss Swan?"
"You seem to know everything that goes on here."
He offers a small laugh, hollow. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I'm just a pawnbroker."
Emma continues to watch him for a moment. A standoff. She's used to this. Assess the enemy (is he her enemy?), figure out if he's going to flee or stand his ground (stand his ground, she's sure of it despite Gold's seeming frailty), keep an eye on any escape routes (she's only been in the back of the pawnshop once but she's sure there's a way out there).
"Come on, Emma." Her father's voice interrupts her focus and she backs off half a pace. Gold doesn't move, though she notices his hands gripping the cane have turned just a bit white around the knuckles.
Interesting…
"We're not through," she says and there's menace in her voice.
"Have a pleasant afternoon, Miss Swan," Gold responds with and there's that not quite smile again.
And then they're gone, out the door. And Emma is more sure all the time that Gold knows something. But he's playing it close to his vest as she's come to expect from him. She only wishes she could have sussed out just what exactly it is he might know. What happened to Rumplestiltskin during the curse? His current whereabouts? What kind of danger the creature presented?
She'll come back. And soon. Maybe she'll appeal to the beast's beauty for information. It's not like that hasn't worked in the past.
"They don't know." Rumplestiltskin whirls at the sound of Belle's voice and the smirk turns into a crooked grin.
"No." And the word is half full of wonder. He barely remembers what he looked like as the imp, those memories slightly faded around the edges. Wild, he remembers. Wild hair, wild eyes. A creature built from darkness and insanity.
"How?" she asks as she comes around the corner to face him. She watches him intently and finally reaches up to brush a hand lightly across his brow, touching his nose, grazing his cheekbone. "How can they not see that you're the same man?"
There's a quiet breathlessness to her voice and he can't help but smile a little bit, reaching down to pick up her hand and place a soft kiss upon it. "They don't exactly look at me like you do."
He's rewarded with a small snort of laughter and it makes his heart sing. "Well, I should hope not." She pauses there and studies him a moment longer. "But surely you are not so different."
"Aren't I?" he offers and sweeps a hand over himself. He watches her carefully as the transformation completes. It's a strange feeling, wearing a glamor that was once him. He's not sure he wants to look in the mirror at that moment and his eyes close almost involuntarily, waiting for Belle's reaction. He remembers her love well back in their world, but where would that be now? Now when she sees who he was before, when she sees the man before her and not the creature?
Her gasp brings him back into the present. She's not standing in a dungeon, eyes blazing, arms crossed over her chest as she faces down the beast who would banish her. No, instead a smile has spread across her face. Her eyes are bright and she walks around him in a slow circle. He'd blush at her scrutiny, but he's not sure that would even show on his strange, reptilian skin.
"I forgot how much I like you in this form."
He just stares. What else can he do, really? These aren't the words he expects from her. Don't be a coward..."Really?" The word is slightly less confident than he'd like. You're the Dark One…
"I do."
"Well…" He swallows the painful lump that seems to have appeared in his throat. "Maybe we should retreat to the house?" It's the most forward he's been. He usually allows Belle to make any sort of first moves she wants. And she's brave, always has been. He's not. He well remembers being branded coward, the man who runs, and the names shouted at him as she was shoved into the dirt, as stones collided painfully with his back, as he fell, tripped by men who laughed at his plight. He's a coward even now, not able to look at her for fear there will be rejection.
There's always rejection.
She'll never have you, Rumple.
Did you think she'd love you, Rumple? That she'd want you?
Sometimes the words are his father's, sometimes Hordor's and his men's. Right now they're the Queen's. The Evil Queen's. Who once taunted him over his love of a tiny slip of a girl and laughed as she told him she died.
"Rumple?"
He blinks as he hears Belle's voice and shakes his head slightly. He still can't quite meet her eyes but she steps forward and her hands clasp his, running her fingers over the reptilian skin, touching the long nails. He tries to speak and she brings one finger to his lips, holding it there.
She waits, doesn't move.
He finally looks up.
His eyes meet hers and her smile is even brighter, almost blinding in its intensity. His heart suddenly feels lighter. "Yes, let's go back to the house."
He didn't dare hope and yet…
They vanish in an instant. It seems he has better things to worry about at the moment than Emma's and the Charmings' hunt for his alter ego.
She comes in the night, accompanied by, of all things, a pirate. Snow knows her, all too well really, and it sends a shiver down her spine. For as bad as the Evil Queen is, her mother is worse. All of this…all of this…is her fault. It's easy to blame Regina, but she was just a teenager when she lost Daniel and it was Cora who murdered him.
Snow often has nightmares of Cora doing the same to her true love. But the woman was banished to another realm, never to be seen again and they could all breathe easy.
Not now…
Now she is here, the pirate close at her heels like a faithful dog. There's fire in his eyes, an anger she finds chills her to her bones.
"Cora is back," she says as she bursts through the door. She's seen her, striding down Main Street as if she has no care in the world. She's dressed as she was in their world, her skirts brushing the dirt on the concrete, her parasol a deadly accompaniment to the ensemble.
The pirate lingers behind, stalking, and she watches as he brushes his hair out of his eyes with one hooked appendage.
"Cora…" David's eyebrows are lowered. "Regina's mother?"
Snow feels her throat almost close up at the thought. Cora, all magic and horror. Cora, who kills without a thought. She is everything that was horrible and wrong in their world and now she is here. In Storybrooke. And she cannot fathom why or how.
"She was banished," Snow whispers. Banished to another realm, never to be seen again. Regina had married the King anyway, but her mother had disappeared and the whispers about where and why and how were all they had left of her. Good riddance, she well remembers thinking. Things would be better when she was gone. Regina would forgive her when she was gone.
That hadn't happened, of course, and Regina had gone further and further down the same path her mother had followed. But at least Cora wasn't at her side.
"I never knew her." David's voice is as quiet as Snow's.
"You wouldn't want to," Snow answers.
Everything enters a holding pattern after that. Cora goes to ground and Snow is sure that she's looking for her daughter, maybe even found her. Regina is alone, isolated. She's vulnerable to her mother's onslaught, Snow fears and so they watch her house closely.
They see nothing.
But Snow knows.
It's only a matter of time.
The pirate is spotted hanging around Gold's shop and everyone gives him a wide berth. She's not sure what that's about. Perhaps Gold was a pirate in their world. Perhaps the shop is just housing all the items he'd pillaged. It certainly does seem like someone's loot and it makes more sense than most of the things they've come up with him.
The world is still the night that Leroy comes racing to their home, pounding on their door. They've almost been tricked into thinking maybe Cora wanted nothing from them, that maybe she had had a change of heart, maybe she just wanted her daughter back.
But it's the middle of the night and Leroy (Grumpy, she reminds herself) may be a bit fatalistic (and a bit dramatic, truth be told, and she can't quite remember his being that dramatic in their world), but he doesn't usually come to their home so late and with such urgency.
"Open up, sister!" he's shouting when David throws open the door. Snow is still wrapping herself in a bathrobe as she races down the stairs. Leroy puts his hand on his hip and gives her a glare that would simply whither someone who didn't know him so well. "I did not need to see that."
"You're the one barging into our home in the middle of the night," she shoots back. She realizes her voice sounds angry. But it's not anger that's coloring her voice, making her snappish.
It's panic.
"They're on the move," Leroy says and she doesn't have to ask who they is. She knows. Cora. Regina. They've found each other and they're up to something.
"Where are they?" David asks as Snow races back upstairs to get dressed..
"Down Main Street." Leroy glances behind him as if the hounds of hell might be on his tail.
It takes her little time to get dressed for this showdown. For she's sure it will be one. Her bow is in hand as she comes down the stairs and David nods, retrieving his sword. They're going loaded for bear, as it were. "Get Emma," David says and moves toward the door.
"I'm here," the woman in question is shouting as she trudges down the stairs. She's dressed already, one hand on her gun. Her magic is still so unfocused, but she knows it's there. And it might be their only hope against the pair of sorceresses. Emma has her love for her parents, for Henry, behind her magic. And love always defeats hate. She's sure of that.
It's defeated Regina before.
It will defeat them both this time.
It has to.
"Let's go," Snow says and reaches out to briefly hug her daughter.
"I've got your back," Emma says, striding out behind her. It's not quite the way Snow wanted her family to come together, but she'll take it at this point.
When they arrive on Main Street, Cora and Regina are already down the way and she can see Cora using some sort of magic on the door to Gold's shop.
"Gold?" Snow whispers and feels a strange chill go down her back. "What on earth would they need with him?"
"I don't know." David's voice is grim as he speaks and he moves forward without saying another word, his long legs eating up ground quickly. Snow and Emma rush after him. A team, Snow realizes. They're a team, a united front against whatever sort of evil Regina and her mother represent.
Cora turns as they approach and the stream of dark magic coming from her fingertips falters and then stops as she turns to face them. There's a smile plastered on her face. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise."
Regina steps forward to stand at her mother's side and Snow watches the way her hand twitches, aching to form a fireball, she's sure. She's heard that Regina's magic is spotty at best and she wonders if that is why they're breaking into Gold's shop.
Snow notches her arrow and aims it at Cora's heart. "What do you think you're doing?" she says and hopes her voice doesn't sound as shaky as she fears it does.
"Hello, Snow." The voice sends shivers up her spine, a voice from what feels like a hundred years ago, but she holds her ground.
"Don't come any closer!"
"Or what?" There's a calm amusement behind the words. "You'll shoot?"
Snow takes a deep breath.
Cora takes another step toward her and she pulls back on the arrow. Just one shot, straight to the heart. Cora may have magic but she is not immortal, that much she is sure of. "I don't think so," Cora continues with, almost conversationally really. One wave of her hand and the bow and arrow simply disappear.
Snow's hands grasp helplessly at the empty air..
She backs up a pace. She's no match for Cora, armed or not.
"Don't touch her," Charming starts to say but he's thrown to the side before the words even get out of his mouth.
Emma comes to stand at her side and Snow spares her just a glance. "I've got you Mom." Emma is raising her hands up and Snow knows she's hoping for that surge of energy, that bit of magic that she is unable to control but yet seems to draw on in those impossible moments.
Snow nods.
Cora makes a scoffing noise as Regina steps after her mother. "You, dear girl?" Snow tries to step in front of her daughter. Protect her. At all costs. Even your life. It wouldn't be the first time they nearly gave their lives for their child. She knows it won't be the last.
Emma puts a hand out to stop her.
"Oh how sweet," Cora murmurs. "Mother and daughter bonding in their final moments." She cocks her head slightly to the side and purses her lips.
"Mother," Regina mutters.
"Patience darling," Cora shoots back. "You really must learn to have patience. That's always been your downfall." There's something strangely conversational about her tone and Snow watches as Regina's lips tighten just a little.
"Of course, Mother." The words are demure, but there's something there behind them that causes Snow's eyes to narrow just a bit.
Cora gives her daughter a smile and steps forward, one hand raised. The smile widens as she draws her hand back. Snow can see the power gathering there, coming from the very air around them, pulling all the darkness in to surround her. She knows the blow is coming. She can see it in the slight upturn at the corner of Cora's mouth.
Emma is ready, her hands are raised and her eyes are focused on Cora. But Snow knows the truth. Cora is nigh undefeatable. Emma might be able to throw back Regina, but she's no match for Cora.
"You really don't want to be doing that, dearie." The voice that comes from the doorway to the pawnshop is quiet and eerily calm.
"Gold! Don't!" She may not like the man much (ok, not at all if she's going to be honest with herself), but even he doesn't deserve to face down Cora's ire. He's no match for her power. He looks almost frail standing in the doorway to his shop, one hand gripping his cane tightly.
Gold just smirks and Belle, who is holding onto his arm, balanced somewhat precariously on her extremely high heels almost looks…proud. Her chin is thrust into the air, her eyes narrowed, and she swears for a moment that the same smirk that's on Gold's face ghosts over Belle's.
He's the Beast, she remembers, but even the beast was nearly defeated by the likes of Gaston in that story.
The power Cora has been gathering suddenly dissipates as she turns to face Gold. "Well, well, look what finally crawls out of the woodwork. I'm so glad you've finally decided to join us."
One of Gold's eyebrows shoots up and Snow watches as Belle grips his arm just a little bit harder. "Join you? Hardly."
"No?" She steps closer to him and there's almost a purr to her voice. Regina rolls her eyes.
"Mother…"
But Cora ignores her and steps even closer. "I thought you liked to be on the winning side." She reaches up a hand to touch his cheek and Gold flinches back. Belle starts to step forward, but he puts out a hand to stop her.
"I am on the winning side." The words are growled through the sneer on his face, teeth clenched tightly together and Snow feels her heart drop into her stomach. It's all going terribly wrong, she's sure of it. Cora doesn't look angry but she's not sure the woman actually has emotions. Her face is as blank as ever, though she sees a flash of something in her eyes.
And then Cora's drawing back her hand and Snow feels the threads of power converging on her. Emma steps forward, hands raised. Snow knows her daughter can't counter Cora but she can try. Maybe long enough for Gold (that stupid, stupid man) to escape.
Looking back some time later, she won't even be able to completely recall what happens at that point. It's a strange thing, really. Everything happens so fast and yet almost in slow motion at the same time. Regina rushes forward and Gold raises the hand that's not holding his cane and Cora is suddenly flying backward, her body hitting a nearby car before crashing to the ground. Snow watches Emma glance down at her hands and her expression says it all. It wasn't her.
The car alarm goes off, cutting through the silence that's left in the wake of such unexpected violence.
"Gold?" Snow says, staring at the unassuming pawnbroker. He's tucked Belle's hand back around his arm and is retreating back into his shop before anyone can stop him.
But Cora manages to, reaching up a hand from where she's fallen, using her magic to slam the door shut before the pair can get through it. She almost catches Belle in it, Gold being chivalrous and letting his lady go through first. Belle jumps back with a yelp and he wraps his arms around her, keeping her from stumbling further.
"Rumplestiltskin!" Cora's voice is strident as she clings to the car and stands.
Snow's eyes meet David's and she can see the confusion there. She's sure it mirrors her own.
Gold turns back toward Cora.
One hand comes up in a gesture that's out of place and yet familiar at the same time.
"You have nothing I want, dearie," he says and points one finger at her. And he…he giggles. High-pitched, grating, eerily familiar.
"You'll come crawling back to me eventually," Cora says through gritted teeth. She's surrounded by the smoke of her magic and when the air clears, she's gone. As if she were never there before.
Regina rolls her eyes.
Belle smirks.
There's a crease between David's brows and Snow's eyes are wide as she stares.
"Seriously?" Emma's voice breaks the silence. The sound of the door to Gold's shop opening and slamming shut comes just moments after. "What was that all about?"
Snow's not even sure she can answer. All this time, all this hunting. And Gold is apparently Rumplestiltskin? "I…"
"I think you just met Rumplestiltskin," David finally manages to say and Snow watches as he shakes his head.
"How…"
"I don't even know." David's hands are raised as he speaks and his eyes haven't managed to leave the door to Gold's…no, Rumplestiltskin's…shop.
"Gold is that creature you've been going on about?"
Snow finally moves, reaching out an arm to draw Emma close to her. She nods at David and the two of them move off together, Regina forgotten for the moment. "There's so much to talk about, Emma," Snow says and David just laughs. She's sure she'll find it funny someday too. Maybe when Cora is gone and Regina is neutralized and maybe, just maybe, when they figure out exactly whose side Rumplestiltskin really is on.