A/N: This began as a one-shot, but it worked out nicely for an idea that's been bouncing around in my head for a couple of weeks now. I've been working out the kinks in it, and I'm hoping I have it well worked out enough that I can update at least semi-reguarly. That's the plan. It's set after Regina tears up the curse and they're transported back to the Enchanted Forest.

Home

If someone had told him at the beginning that Storybrooke would become home he would have fallen to the ground laughing. It was in the World Without Magic. A means to an end. A relatively quick stopping place on his way to his son. That was all. A point on a long road, nothing more.

He was the Dark One, after all. As long as he was separated from Bae, he had no home.

And yet here they were. Bae and all.

It was strange, because while he had been fully under the same curse as everyone else until hearing Emma's name - and keeping a straight expression with all the memories of power, pain, and plans flowing suddenly back to him had been a challenge even for him - there had always been a sense that something was missing, of temporary in the midst of the stagnant. Even with his abilities, he'd never been able to predict this. Never this joy where there had been so much darkness.

"Thinking awful hard on something, Pop."

Rumplestiltskin blinked, glancing over to where his son - his Baelfire - had come to lean up against the same railing that he was standing at. There was a relaxed ease about him. Contentment, Rumple thought, and why shouldn't there be? A small smile perked his lips as he turned his gaze to where Henry was testing the height of the tire swing, Belle playing with him with a laugh that would have cast away any darkness. "Just this," he answered and Bae knew what he meant.

"Not bad, in the end," Bae agreed. "He's really warmed to you."

"He's a good kid."

"Admit it, he's grown on you too."

"Oh I'm not denying that," Rumplestiltskin chuckled and joined his son in leaning. He paused, feeling the truth bubble up in his throat and he let the words make their way from his lips before he could change his mind. He had to be brave. Belle had taught him that. If he wanted to keep them, he had to be brave. "I wouldn't trade anything for this, Bae. You were right all along, son."

"I'm sorry? Can you say that again. Not sure I heard you right," his son asked in a teasing tone.

Rumple snorted, pulling a grin from Bae. "You heard me."

"I know, Papa." The mirth faded now, his shoulders slumping a bit and everything seemed so far away. It was just father and son, laughter distant and light. "I miss you."

This startled the elder man and he turned. "I'm right here, son. I know past actions may not add credibility, but I'm not going anywhere. I swear that to you, Bae."

Baelfire gave him a sad smile, turning. He leaned in, his hand finding his father's and he held it tight to his chest, an old gesture between them. Tears stood in his eyes and Rumple tried to push back the terrible sinking feeling that threatened to swallow him. "I know you want to mean that, Papa."

"I do mean it, Bae. I'll prove it, son. You'll give me that chance, won't you?" Fear was creeping in and the man that regretted letting go more than anything in all the worlds held his son's hand in a death grip. "I won't let you go. Never again. You and Henry and Belle... I won't let go."

Bae looked like he might break and the laughter had faded now, leaving only the father and son standing with an unimaginable weight pushing against them. Rumplestiltskin felt as if something were trying to pull him away, to break his grip, but he held firmly, his promise acting as a tether.

"You saved us, Papa," Baelfire whispered. "And you had to let go... to save us. I don't blame you. I love you, Papa, and I miss you more than I thought I could again."

"But I'm right here," his father whispered brokenly, pushing hard against memories that stirred.

Henry.

Neverland.

Pan.

The magic cuff and his shadow and the dagger.

"But I'm right here," he tried to convince himself.

"It's just a dream, Papa," Bae managed and the howling winds of memory pulled Rumplestiltskin away in a strange flash of light and pain.

The light was bright, blinding. It seared into his mind and felt like it was cutting through him. No, he reminded himself as he was pulled so painfully back from the dream that could never be, it wasn't the light. It was the knife.

The knife that bore his name. The one that he'd used to save his family.

Was it worth it? a small, dark voice whispered into his mind.

Rumplestiltskin smiled and held on to the earliest moments of his dream. Henry and Belle playing in the park. Bae standing next to him, forgiving him. Loving him. "Yeah," he whispered into the nothingness, "it was worth it."

Ogres. He really hated ogres. He always felt like he was two steps away from being torn limb from limb.

He stumbled, rolled, and was on his feet again all in one motion. Make that half a step away.

The thing would have had him, too, had an arrow not buried itself deep in the creature's eye, the ogre collapsing to the ground and nearly landing on Baelfire. The young man dusted himself off and glanced over to the archer that had saved him.

Snow's expression was not a happy one, even as he mumbled his thanks. "I am not going to be the one to explain to my daughter that you were ripped to pieces by an ogre when we finally get her home."

This had become their normal, as strange as it was. They'd returned to the Enchanted Forest in a whirl of magic, landing them not too far from Charming and Snow's old castle. The thing was in disrepair, causing several of their party to pause sceptically upon sight - Regina being one if the loudest protesters, but she fumed in silence when reminded it was her curse that had caused the damage - and they'd set to putting things in order. Repairs were done, dangers cleared to the best of their abilities, and hope clung to like a lifeline.

When we finally get her home.

Baelfire had told her he would see them again. He'd promised it, and with everything he'd come to know stripped from him, he kept hold of the promise like an incantation. Perhaps it was. Perhaps if he said it again, over and over enough times in his mind, he'd find a way to reach her. For months that had kept him going, and every time he felt that deep, horrible ache setting in his chest, threatening to cut off his air and crush his heart, he would think on it. A few nights, when the lamps had all been snuffed out and he was alone, he would even whisper it into the empty, cold room.

"The Captain is due back in tomorrow," Snow was saying as they walked. "He should have news. I'm certain this time."

"It took my father somewhere near three centuries to cross the worlds," Bae murmured and his love's mother gave him a shove that caught his attention.

She glared. "If he'd had as many minds working on it as we do he'd have managed years before."

This brought a small smile to his lips. "Nothing gets you down."

"No time for that," Snow White grinned. It faded slowly though as she watched the young man trudge ahead. "Neal?"

He stopped and turned.

"Listen... I know it's been rough, but we will find Emma and Henry."

"I know."

I'll see both of you again. I'll see both of you again. I'll see both of you again. I'll see both of you again.

I'll see both of you again. I'll see both of you again. I'll see both of you again.

It filled the silence.

As much as he appreciated them, there were times when the Charmings could be infuriatingly optimistic to the point that he just needed a breath. In those moments, Baelfire had found one person amongst those he'd gotten to know over his time in Storybrooke and here in the Enchanted Forest. She was stronger than he would have thought, just looking at her. Her nose was always buried in a book and she'd pop off ideas that no one had come close to from her corner, peering over the top of the pages with a glimmer of mischief in her blue eyes.

He'd asked once, right after they'd come back, how she and his father had met. Belle had smiled at him, that certain kind of strength holding her together, but it had been too soon. Some months later though, with no prompting at all, she'd told him that Rumplestiltskin had saved her town and she'd gone with him. The story had tumbled out then, a mixture of tears and love and pain. It was the first time she'd cried in front of him. He wagered that few had ever seen her break like that evening.

Since then they'd spoken freely, finding a bond in pain. She let him speak about Emma and how much he missed her, how he'd thought he had another shot, how he had planned to win her back. He had it all worked out, before Pan's curse. What was he going to do? He was going to be honest. As honest as any person could be, he'd told Belle one night, sitting on the floor of a room with books scattered all around. She wasn't reading that night, though, she was listening. He'd spoken of Emma and Henry and she'd remembered his father.

Bae hadn't spoke of his papa much since that day in Storybrooke. He wasn't entirely sure why. Every time he thought he'd found the reason it switched. One day it would make him want to cry and scream and rage, hurling accusations at the thoughts in his head. Then he would feel guilty, remembering that anger wasn't all he had anymore. His father had died for him. For Henry. For all of them. Then the guilt would switch flavours and he'd feel like he needed to make room to focus on Emma and Henry. He could reach them, someday. His papa was gone.

And then there were times when he just couldn't help it. They were rare, as he'd become very good at pushing Rumplestiltskin from his mind, but sometimes the weight of his grief was more than he could bear alone.

"I had a dream about him last night," Baelfire murmured into the quiet room.

Belle looked up from her book, blue eyes softening and he knew his face had come to her mind. "A good dream?"

"Mostly. I realized what it was halfway through and I think that's what woke me up."

She made a small sound of understanding and scooted to give him room to sit if he chose to. He moved closer but never sank down to the bench. He was nervous, speaking the words aloud.

"We were back in Storybrooke and everything was... Just as it should have been. The way it was meant to be. We'd taken Henry to the park and you were playing with him. Papa and I were just... talking. It was nice. Comfortable. I didn't think I could miss him so much."

Belle set the book down and stood. "He loved you, you know that don't you, Bae?"

"In the end, yeah," he murmured. He paused, feeling very self-centered. Here he was, talking about how much he missed him like he was the only one to care. "I'm sorry, I-"

"He was your father," Belle chastised lightly as if she'd read his mind. "Don't feel guilty for missing him. Not on my account."

He felt a real smile perk his lips. There was no question in his mind that she had been part of the change he'd seen in the end. She'd been his light in what must have been a very, very dark world.

"I just never thought it would hit so hard," Bae murmured, his words having swirled around in the void of his mind for far too long. Too put away until they grew and grew and were ready to burst.

Without warning she wrapped her arms around him. "I miss him too," she whispered.

TBC