Disclaimer: I own nothing except Aveena/Morgan; everything else belongs to ABC/Disney. That being said, I hope you like this fic and I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. My character's name is pronounced Uh-Vee-nuh.

Rumpelstiltskin follows Milah and Killian aboard the Jolly Roger, sneering at the pirates in distaste. He wouldn't show the hurt that was building up inside of him at the fact that Milah had chosen rum-soaked pirates over himself and their son. "Well, well, seems like you finally found the family you could never have with me," he states as he walks past her and over to the railing, glancing around curiously and highly enjoying the scared looks he caught the crew sending his way. Being the Dark One certainly has its advantages.

Milah walked over to him after a moment with the magic bean between her thumb and forefinger.

He wondered what she would do if she found out what had happened to their son. Would she go with him and try to find Baelfire or would she simply shrug it off and stay with the pirate?

Rumple attempts to grab the bean only to have Milah toss it to her lover. Tall and handsome with eyes so blue it seemed the sky was caught in them; it was little wonder why Milah was attracted to the Captain. She had often told Rumple that she wanted a child with blue eyes like her father's and she may get her wish if she stays aboard this ship.

"You asked to see it, now you have," the pirate says boldly, still clutching at his chest where Rumple had buried his hand just moments before. Rumple looks down at the deck for a second before meeting Milah's intense gaze again.

"Do we have a deal," she asks, voice no longer drawing him in as it had years ago. "Can we go our separate ways?" Her hands rested on her hips, her frustration clear. After all, why would she want to make a deal with a monster like himself unless it would result in the safety of her so-called true love?

"Do you mean, can I forgive you," Rumple inquires, beginning to walk around the woman, making her turn on her heel in order to keep him in her sight. "Can I move on? Perhaps. I can see you are twuly in love." There wasn't a chance he would leave this ship without killing one of the pair, his contract be damned. Rumple loved enacting revenge, he loved it more than anything in this world aside from his son.

"Thank you." Milah moved to walk towards Killian when Rumple takes a step forward.

"Just one question." The hurt was beginning to bubble to the surface, but Rumple already had a mask of anger in place to hide his bitter sadness from the vagrants. Milah raised an eyebrow at him, her silent way of telling him to continue without opening her mouth. It seemed to irritate Killian to no end that Rumple could read Milah's little signals so easily. "How could you leave Bae?" His magic responds to his emotions as his anger spikes, the ropes dangling from the masts above them beginning to wriggle like snakes. "Do you know what it's like, walking home that night...?" He ignores Milah's fearful pleas for him to stop and calm down. "Having to tell our son that his mother was dead."

Guilt flickers in her dull blue eyes for a moment.

"I was wrong to lie to you that night," she admits quickly, though he could tell she didn't actually mean it. "I was the coward—"

"You left him! You abandoned him!" Just like my papa did to me. Whatever reply she had was cut off by an infant's crying. Rumple's bronze-colored eyes dart to where the wailing was coming from and spots a young cabin boy holding a child that couldn't be any older than six months. He noticed the barely contained expression of worry on Milah's face and that Killian's hand dropped to where his sword used to be the minute the child was heard.

So he was right it would seem, the pirate and Milah had a child together.

In a moment of pure rage, Rumple plunges a hand into Milah's chest, grabbing her heart, and using his magic to restrain Killian until he had the still-beating organ in his hand. The sadistic grin on his face vanishes when he hears Milah telling Killian that she loved him. Without hesitation and with quite a bit of jealousy, he squeezes the heart until it's just dust in the wind.

With a flick of his wrist, the child appeared in his arms, no longer crying. Curious, she just stared up at him with eyes the same color as her father's; what little hair she had was almost black and thick for a child her age. "Let go of my daughter," Killian growls, standing up with both of his hands clenched into fists. Rumple's eyes focused on the fist he believes contained the magic bean before returning them to the baby and keeping them there. "You've done enough damage here, you demon." Rumple finally tears his eyes away from the child again and looks back to the pirate, thin lips twisting into an evil grin.

"I'll have what I came for now."

"You'll have to kill me first." Rumple levitates the girl while he pulls out the sword he'd stolen from Killian.

"I'm afraid that's not in the cards for you, sonny boy." Killian never realized what had happened until his left hand was lying on the deck and blood was pumping from the stump. He dropped to his knees with an anguished cry, gripping his wrist tightly. Rumple picks up the severed hand, still curled up into a fist around the bean, and rests the tip of the stolen blade against Killian's shoulder. "I want you alive to suffer like I did."

Like I still am.

Killian picks up a silver hook that had been laying forgotten on the deck nearby, driving it into Rumple's chest and gaining an expression of surprise when the immortal lets out a delighted giggle. "Killing me is gonna take a lot more than that, dearie," Rumple states. He throws the hook back to the ground with a smile still twisting his lips.

"Even demons can be killed. I will find a way!"

"Good luck living long enough." Rumple cradles the child against his chest again, laughing when Killian lunges at him; disappearing and reappearing behind the distraught pirate. "And I'll even give you an incentive." He laughs darkly, red smoke beginning to swirl around his feet and make its way up his body. "Your little daughter." With those words, Rumpelstiltskin disappears for good this time, hearing the single word the pirate shouted before he reappeared in his castle.

The child's name was Aveena.

Storybrooke, Maine

I sigh, fidgeting in my seat as I wait for the bell to ring and dismiss me for the day. Chemistry isn't a good subject to have as a last hour class, no one can focus on the work as much as they should—not that the periodic table is hard to understand—and all I can think about is how badly I want to sleep. Glancing discreetly at my phone to see the time, I fold my assignment in half and use it to mark my place in the textbook.

I'll finish the chapter review in study hall tomorrow, I mentally vow with a nod. Just so I can spend more time with Papa in the shop.

The bell's shrill ring fills the air a few seconds later, followed by relieved sighs from the students. I dart out of the classroom to my locker, putting up the chem book and shouldering my backpack. I put my earphones in as I leave the school and start down the familiar path to my papa's pawn shop, pressing play on my iPod and humming along to the music.

"If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do," I sing along, too quiet for anyone to hear," is to save everyday till eternity passes away just to spend them with you." After a long day spent learning things I'll never use in real life—Algebra II being the prime example here—it'll be nice to dig through the piles of dusty junk that clutters the backroom of Papa's shop.

Most people avoided him when they could, going so far as to cross the street to avoid bumping into him; owning half the town and being a ruthless businessman tends to put people off. As a result, people tended to avoid me since they thought they'd be evicted if they slighted me. It's completely ridiculous, but it's nice not to be dragged down by teenage drama, too.

On the other hand, it's kind of pathetic that my only friends are the Mayor's ten year old, a secret boyfriend, and the two guys that run the best theater in town—The Genie's Lamp. Micah and Nicky Blaine weren't scared of Papa, and Micah spent some of his days off planning new ways to annoy him.

The little bell above the shop door jingles cheerily as I walk inside with a bright smile, stowing my iPod in my bag. Papa comes out from the backroom at the sound, holding a silver chalice that looked older than everything else in the shop, Papa included.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that was the Holy Grail," I state, laying my bag on the counter and digging through it to find my pencil and notebook.

"How do you know that it's not," he counters with a smile of his own, setting the chalice down on a table near the front of the shop. I tilt my head to the side and tap my chin as I pretend to think over his words.

"Hmm, I guess it might be possible considering the fact that you're old enough to have played baseball with the dinosaurs." He takes on an expression of mock hurt that has me laughing and pulling him into a loving hug. "I have to go write a poem for English class, so I'll see you in a few decades."

Gold

Gold watches as Morgan walks into his office, his soft smile reserved for only three people; one of them is dead, one is somewhere else in this realm, and the other is the teenager singing in his office. She's grown so much since he stole her and he was proud of her despite the fact that she had developed some of her biological father's habits; stealing and drinking were things that made his blood boil when he caught her.

It certainly didn't help that she was the spitting image of the man, but at least she had developed some of Gold's mannerisms. It was enough that the people of Storybrooke didn't think he'd kidnapped her, true though it may be. He shakes his head and moves the Grail over a few inches to ensure the sunlight would bounce off it and temporarily blind Regina when she walked past. Teasing her was one of his few pleasures these days and he wouldn't pass up an opportunity.

"If I could make days last forever," came Morgan's voice from his office," if words could make wishes come true, I'd save everyday like a treasure and then, again, I would spend them with you." The irony of that song almost sent him into a fit of giggles and he couldn't help but sing along.

"But there never seems to be enough time to do the things that you want to do..."