Rumpelstiltskin and the Guardian

While Rumpelstiltskin activated his phone, Harriet decided to take another shower. She needed space to understand what happened between them. Absently grabbing a nightdress, she made her way to the bathroom and locked the door. Leaning against the sink, she glanced at the mirror and found herself starting into sad, ashamed eyes.

She had lost her temper, again. The urge to drink was strong. Yet, with Rumple around, she had thought she wouldn’t notice the withdrawal as much. To a certain extent, she had been right. He did distract her…. until he didn’t. People not listening to her was a trigger. She just hadn’t realized how much of one until she was in Rumpelstiltskin’s face.

Closing her eyes, tears slipped down her cheeks. She hadn’t asked for any of this. Being the Chosen One at a young age had taken everything from her. It had placed a child in an adult’s world, making her a target. It hadn’t mattered to Voldemort that she was just a child; she was a threat. Albus saw her as a weapon and a means to an end. Umbridge had looked at her like a parasite trying to undermine the Ministry and Severus had seen the ghost of her father, too traumatized by his life to see how traumatized she was by her own.

Over time, she learned to thrive in dysfunction. The Dursleys, Umbridge, Dumbledore, Severus, and Voldemort all took pieces of her and left nothing but pain, fear, dysfunction, depression and anger in their wake. By the time she had become an auror with the Ministry, she was already a shell of her former self.

Looking at her shaking right hand, Harriet could still make out the faint lines “I must not tell lies”. Even with Severus trying to heal her scars, they had not gone away. Only time seemed to be able to fade them. Of all the abuse she suffered, Umbridge’s blood quill had been the worst. Try as she might, she never could understand Umbridge’s motivations. While Voldemort was her worst enemy, it was Dolores Umbridge that had left the worst mark.

Harriet traced her scar and then physically shook herself. She was too early in her sobriety for her thoughts to dwell on Umbridge. Inevitably, she always drank the worst when she thought about her fifth year. Instead, her thoughts wandered to the Dark One in the living room.

Her entire argument with Rumpelstiltskin had surprised her. Given who he was, both in the past and present, she was surprised he hadn’t fought her. Instead, despite the moment of tension in the living room, he had allowed her to rage and then leave. She was grateful for that. She hated to be cornered. If he hadn’t moved, she would have hit him.

Despite everything Rumple had done to her, Harriet didn’t hate him. When she had first realized that Lord Voldemort was back, she panicked. However, between her exhaustion, drinking, and their odd mental connection, she could only stew in her own feelings.

When she met him on the rooftop in New York, she had only briefly been afraid, and it had confused her. Despite how imposing and dark he had seemed; he had shown her kindness. A kindness that hadn’t been shown to her in a long time. She had felt comfortable with him.

After her panic attack in the kitchenette, she no longer doubted he had changed. Lord Voldemort had been incapable of true feeling. Faking those emotions would have been impossible for him. Rumpelstiltskin, on the other hand, overflowed with feeling. The dichotomy was fascinating, and her curiosity overpowered any lingering feelings of panic or fear that might have been lurking. Now, loneliness was replacing good sense.

That was the only explanation for her unexpected attraction.

Objectively, she should not find Dark One Rumpelstiltskin the least bit alluring. He barely looked human. Yet, the confidence he had was unbelievably attractive. The way his body moved, like a predator, intrigued her. He had a way of holding the eye, even when he was nervous. She found herself wondering if the rest of his body was just as warm, soft, and scaled as his hands.

She also found human Rumpelstiltskin attractive. He was just as confident as the dark version of himself, but there was a quietness to his human form that Harriet found comforting. He had a strong presence that soothed her. All day, she had found herself thinking how nice he looked with his sleeves rolled up. How smooth his voice was as he told her stories. His hair had looked soft and she couldn’t get enough of watching his hands.

She had some weird fascination with his hands in either form.

Shaking her head, she splashed water on her face and muttered, “Get it together woman. You are lonely and horny and Lord Voldemort is not the appropriate person to have fantasies about.”

Sometimes, she worried that all of her trauma had caused her to have issues bonding. That she could only feel comfortable with people that had hurt her in some way. Severus had terrorized her all through school and yet, she found him comforting now despite her constant frustration with him. Remus constantly hurt her feelings and self-esteem and yet she yearned for his touch. Now Rumpelstiltskin, the very monster that had set her on the path of ruination, invoked intense feelings of safety and lust. After only a day of knowing him.

Was she really that broken?

Clearing her throat, Harriet brushed away her tears. She mourned the lack of normality in her life. For once she wished she could have something normal, something good that wasn’t tainted by her past.

Rumpelstiltskin was sitting on the couch, gaping at his phone. More people had called him over the past two months than they had in the past two years. Every voicemail and text message left him confused and dumbfounded.

Most of them only wanted to know who to pay their rent to. Apparently, from what he could piece together, Dove and Belle didn’t seem to be getting along. Which he found strange considering how much Belle wanted to help people.

A few messages were from Dove asking where he was and if he was alright. Dove had always been faithful. It had never mattered if it were in Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest, the man had always been ready to aid him in his quests. Even the Dark Curse had not changed that.

Of course, looking back, Dove had never been a fan of Belle. He had always seemed uncomfortable around her. Rumple had supposed that had more to do with Dove’s dislike of people than anything else. However, he had been openly hostile in Storybrooke and Rumple had taken to keeping them separated

Saving Dove's message for later, he listened to more voicemails. Granny was persistent in her phone calls, insisting she had the money for rent.

“I’m not giving it to your flake of a wife, Gold,” Granny had said in her usual gruff manner, “So you better tell me what you want me to do with it.”

Confused, Rumple saved hers too.

What really surprised him was the constant calls and text messages from Dr. Hopper and Ruby. Many of them were short, asking if he was okay or to please call them. One message from Ruby really struck him.

“Look Gold. I know you can take or leave most of us in this town. But you saved us once. So, on the off chance you give a fuck, please call me back.

Another from Dr. Hopper made his chest tighten.

“I know you must be having a hard time adjusting to your personal loss, but feel free to call me any time. Just because you're banished, doesn’t mean you don’t have a friend.”

Clearing his throat, Rumple threw his phone onto the couch and closed his eyes. He couldn’t even articulate what Dr. Hopper’s voicemail meant to him. Of all the people in Storybrooke, he respected Archie Hopper the most. He was the only person Rumple knew that was brave enough to truly own their mistakes.

“Is everything alright?” Harriet asked. Rumple looked up and his brain stuttered to a stop. She had just stepped out of the bathroom, freshly washed and still damp, in a red nightdress that clung to her. It outlined her entire body, clinging to her hips and breasts in a way that did not leave much to the imagination.

“Uhm…. Harriet,” Rumple said hoarsely. Harriet frowned and Rumple was unable to appropriately say what he needed to. Instead, he pointed at her and gestured up and down. At a loss, Harriet looked down and blushed a deep red.

“Let me grab a robe,” Harriet muttered as she fled into her room. Rumple was still staring after her when she came back into the living room, wearing a black fluffy robe trimmed in a dark blue celestial pattern.

“Sorry about that,” Harriet said, trying to appear nonchalant instead of mortified. When Rumple still looked startled, Harriet rolled her eyes and said, “For Merlin’s sake Rum, you are over three hundred years old and married. You’ve seen a half-naked woman before!”

Rumple cleared his throat and said, “It just caught me off guard.”

“Clearly,” Harriet said, crossing her arms.

“I was just looking through my phone,” Rumple offered, “And I seem to have quite a number of voice messages.”

“Is that…. good?” Harriet tentatively asked. Thankful for the subject change.

“Odd,” Rumple replied, gruffly, “I’m rather confused why it took banishment for some of them to speak to me.”

Harriet placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. She knew what it was like to be lonely and have those around you ignore it. Rumple looked at her hand and then her face. She smiled encouragingly at him, and he smiled tentatively back.

For some reason, Harriet felt the urge to hold Rumpelstiltskin. She knew it was stupid. While he was no longer evil, he wasn’t good either. Yet, she knew what it was to want comfort and never receive it. Swallowing nervously, Harriet watched Rumple fiddle with his phone and found herself asking “What can I do?”

“I can’t believe this,” Rumple hissed, ignoring her. “Hook messaged me at least ten times just to gloat about “finally getting his revenge.” Rumple threw down his phone in disgust, “He is the most juvenile pirate I have ever seen!”

“Who is he?” Harriet asked, but Rumple ignored her once again. His curiosity overcame his disgust, and he picked up the phone.

Harriet felt her throat go dry and a pressure began to build in her head. She felt like someone was squeezing her brain. Rumple’s constant mood swings were becoming draining, and she contemplated the bottle of wine in the fridge. She knew her head would feel better if she drank. It always did when she began to feel like this.

“I’m thirsty,” Harriet said standing up, “Do you want something to drink?”

However, Harriet was interrupted by Kreacher announcing supper was ready. Grateful to be able to focus on something other than her cravings, she looked at Rumple. He was hyper focused on reading his messages and listening to voicemails.

“Why don’t you bring his food into the living room Kreacher,” Harriet suggested as she gathered her plate and soda, willing her hands to stop shaking. She stared longingly at the fridge but made herself look away, reminding herself that she was serious about getting better this time.

“Please eat sir,” Kreacher said as she shoved a plate of food into Rumple’s face. Hurriedly, he placed his phone to the side and grabbed the food before Kreacher could throw it at him. Picking up his fork, he slowly began eating. He wasn’t hungry. He never really was. Yet, without food, his body would weaken eventually.

All magic comes with a price.

“You can sit next to me, Harriet,” Rumple said, wondering how she could possibly be comfortable sitting cross-legged in front of his spinning wheel. Harriet just smiled at him and began to eat.

In truth, she felt she needed physical distance from Rumpelstiltskin. The entire day had been a rollercoaster of emotions. Not to mention pesky hormones. She needed some objectivity, and that seemed to come best if there was space between them. Conjuring a seat would only bring attention to her need for space so she opted for the floor.

“Anything from your wife or grandson?” Harriet asked, desperate to change the subject.

Rumpelstiltskin chewed and swallowed as he held the plate with one hand and picked up his phone with the other. Looking through his messages, his mouth suddenly went dry. He felt the apartment walls close in around him and he shakily placed his plate on the end table before he dropped it.

“What?” Harriet asked, sitting her fork down and placing her own plate on the spinning wheel seat. She was alarmed by Rumple’s sudden ashen appearance.

“Belle texted me,” Rumple replied hollowly, his throat began to feel clogged, and he could feel his eyes burning from tears that threatened to fall.

“Well, that’s good right?” Harriet asked, rising to her knees. Shifting a little closer to Rumpelstiltskin. He shook his head.

“Belle wants a divorce,” Rumple whispered, voice ragged.

“Oh,” Harriet said quietly. She watched as Rumple’s shoulders began shaking. He tried to smother his sobs, but they came out as soft whimpers instead. He closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears but was unsuccessful. She stood up then and gently took a seat next to him. Tentatively, she reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. Rumple began to sob harder. She then pulled him toward her, placing her forehead against the side of his head, hoping that her presence would calm him. They sat like that for a while. Rumple clutching his phone, staring at Belle’s words while Harriet made soothing sounds in his ear

Kreacher came into the living room to investigate the noise, afraid it was his Mistress. Instead, he found himself inexplicably touched by the Dark One’s display. It was startling to the little elf to see him cry. He remembered an emotionless and imposing presence. Now he was confronted with a flesh and blood man.

“Here sir,” Kreacher said quietly as he handed Rumpelstiltskin a handkerchief. Rumple looked at the elf and gently took it from him.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” Rumple whispered, hoarsely.

“You are welcome, sir,” Kreacher replied quietly and then took their plates. He knew it was futile to expect them to eat now.

“Strange little elf,” Rumple muttered quietly, but somewhat fondly.

“He is,” Harriet whispered, “I couldn’t possibly do without him.”

They were both quiet for a moment when Rumple sniffed and muttered, “I can’t believe this is how it ends.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Harriet asked quietly as she pulled away from him. She felt her body tingle where they touched, “It might help.”

Rumple thought of all the things he had done during his short marriage and felt himself grow physically ill. There was a very real possibility that if he told Harriet everything, she would realize that he was still the awful Dark Lord she remembered. He didn’t want her to look at him like she used to, in fear and disgust.

“Not really,” Rumple said, slumping forward. Harriet nodded and leaned back on the couch. Just watching him continue to go through his messages. Suddenly, Rumple sat up straight and looked a bit panicked.

“What?” Harriet asked urgently. Rumple looked at her with scared eyes and said, “My grandson is calling me.”

“Well, answer it,” Harriet insisted, and Rumple pursed his lips and shook his head. He just watched as the phone vibrated in his hand. Finally, it stopped, and Rumple sighed in relief.

“Seriously?” Harriet asked in disbelief.

“What?” Rumple snapped. He refused to look at her.

“What if it was an emergency?” Harriet was becoming mildly irritated. How could this man make her want to hold him one minute and smack him upside the head the next?

“What can I do from here?” Rumple was becoming embarrassed by his obvious attempt to avoid his own grandson. He glanced over at Harriet and saw her cheeks were becoming a charming shade of red as she began to get upset with him. .

“Maybe give him some advice?” Harriet suggested her voice going high in frustration.

“You're irritated,” Rumple observed, puzzled, “Why? It’s my grandson.”

“Yes Rum, I am,” Harriet snapped, “I know what it’s like to need an adult’s advice and never get it.”

Rumple frowned, confused. She was the Chosen One and yet she implied that she was ignored. Didn’t Albus help her? Clearing his throat, he was about to ask for clarification when his phone once again rang, and he froze.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Harriet muttered rolling her eyes. She snatched the phone from him and answered it. “Henry?”

“Who is this?” A voice on the other end asked. He sounded young. Harriet wasn’t sure how old he was, “Mr. Gold?”

“Not at the moment,” Harriet said. Rumple had a panicked look in his eyes and he was opening and closing his mouth like a fish. She rolled her eyes again.

“Is he there?” Henry asked urgently, “Can he come get me? Nobody’s saying anything. Everybody’s ignoring me and I don’t want to be here!” She heard a sob on the other end and then, “They just say he’s banished, but he’s the Dark One. Nobody banishes the Dark One.”

“Slow down,” Harriet said quickly, “Please let me explain.” She paused as she heard crying on the other end. Sighing deeply, she said, “It’s going to be okay Henry. Your grandfather is safe, but he IS banished. He can’t come get you.”

Henry cried harder on the other end of the phone and Harriet became very concerned. Gently she asked, “Are you safe? Is someone hurting you?”

At that moment, Rumple realized he was being selfish. He knew it would be hard to speak with Henry, but his grandson needed him. He couldn’t ignore him. Henry might not ever reach out again. Holding out his hand for the phone, Harriet nodded and handed it to him.

Quietly, Rumple asked, “Henry lad, are you alright?”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and then Rumple was shocked when Henry began to cry even harder, “Grandpapa, where are you? I need you!”

“Henry lad,” Rumple said in his most soothing voice, “Whatever is wrong?”

He watched as Harriet smiled and moved away to give them some privacy.

“Both of my moms are ignoring me,” Henry said. Rumple could hear him wiping his eyes and sniffling, “Whenever I ask about you, they say it’s for the best that you were banished. Belle won’t even say anything about you other than, “he loved power over us Henry,” Henry mimicked her in a high falsetto that almost made Rumple snicker, “Hook gloats and talks bad about you all the time and I don’t like it.” Henry hiccupped and then heartbrokenly said, “Nobody seems to remember my dad.”

Rumple closed his eyes and swallowed his tears. He had to be strong for Henry. Clearing his throat, Rumple decided he should tell the lad what was in his heart. Henry was Bae’s son. He was still just a boy and he needed someone. He was only twelve.

He looked at Harriet and her words echoed in his ears, “I know what it’s like to need an adult’s advice and never get it.”

Was that another reason for her anger? For her loneliness? Because she had no guidance? Rumple didn’t want that for Henry. He wanted his grandson to have a safe harbor, someone to turn to no matter what. It didn’t seem anyone in Storybrooke could currently provide that.

So, Rumple decided for once, to do the brave thing. Belle had always assured him that if he did, bravery would follow. He never really believed her, but now, he hoped he was wrong. “Lad,” Rumple said, rubbing his forehead with his other hand, “I don’t love power more than you.”

“You don’t?” Henry asked sniffing, “Belle said the gauntlet shows a person’s greatest love.”

“It shows a person their greatest weakness,” Rumple corrected, “Most of the time it is a person’s greatest love. But I’m the Dark One lad. The dagger controls me. It will always be my greatest weakness. You, Bae, and Belle have always been my strength.”

Harriet was sitting in the kitchen, trying to give him space, when something dark gripped her heart. A jealous longing. Despite everything he had ever done, Lord Voldemort had people to love, a family. She had no one. Swallowing, Harriet contemplated her fridge. She felt her hands curl into claws and her breathing quickened. She was across her small kitchenette in a second and opened the fridge. Only to find it empty of wine.

She glanced over at Kreacher as he sat quietly in his room, knitting. They looked at each other and finally he said, “Kreacher cleaned the fridge, Mistress.”

Harriet felt frustration and anger hit her like a brick, but she took a deep breath and nodded in Kreacher’s direction, “Thank you Kreacher. You did well.”

The house elf smiled grimly and went back to his knitting. Harriet moved to the sink and began drinking glass after glass of water. Trying to slack her thirst. Hoping the act of drinking would help her cravings.

Meanwhile, Rumple noticed Harriet’s agitation but ignored it. Preferring to deal with Henry first.

“That’s what I thought, but nobody would listen!” Henry raged, “Nobody ever listens! I want to be with you! You always listen to me!”

Rumple sighed deeply and said, “I would love nothing more lad, but I’m not in America right now.”

“What?” Henry asked quietly and Rumple grimaced. How was he going to explain?

“Henry, it's too complicated right now to explain properly,” Rumple said urgently, “Just know that you are safer in Storybrooke.”

“Please don’t keep things from me.” Henry whispered.

“I’m not trying to, lad,” Rumple said quietly, “I can’t…. I don’t…” Rumple was at a loss for words. He looked at Harriet then, hoping she could help, but saw she was distracted.

Taking a deep breath, Rumple decided to keep telling the truth, “Henry, I don’t know enough about what is going on to fully explain it. Just know that I’m safe and with a friend.”

Rumple stopped, unsure how to continue. Henry beat him to it.

“The woman that answered?” Henry asked, “She sounded really nice.”

“She is really nice,” Rumple replied, making Harriet stop and look at him. Her fourth glass of water in her hand, “With everything going on, she really needs me now.”

Henry paused and then, “I understand Grandpapa. I trust you.”

Rumple closed his eyes. Henry’s trust meant the world to him. He never wanted to lose it.

“I have to go Grandpapa,” Henry said urgently, “Someone’s coming.”

Then the line went dead.

Rumple looked at the phone as he swallowed back tears. His heart felt full. Henry cared for him! Enough to even start calling him Grandpapa. In that moment he vowed he would never let Henry down like he had Bae. Looking at Harriet he said, “Thank you for answering the phone.”

“You’re welcome,” Harriet replied, slugging back another glass of water. She went to refill it again, when Rumple asked, “What are you doing, dearie?”

Harriet bit her lip and then looked over her shoulder at Rumple. She knew he was puzzled, but she couldn’t help the thirst that was clawing at her throat.

“Trying to get rid of this thirst,” Harriet despondently replied. She refilled the glass for a fifth time.

“I have a feeling, you aren’t speaking about water,” Rumpelstiltskin said carefully.

“No,” Harriet replied, clipped and dark. She wasn’t looking at him, “I’m not.”

Rumpelstiltskin just stood there, watching as Harriet sipped her water. He wanted to reach out and hold her, but the tension in her shoulders made him think that wasn’t a good idea. He remembered the times when Milah couldn’t afford to drink. She had been filled with tension and rage, with hatred. She would be at her most abusive, screaming that if he had died, she could have had a better husband.

He didn’t want to recreate that with Harriet. He didn’t want that kind of poison coming between their partnership. Nor did he want to leave her alone. He had with Milah, thinking that was what she needed. He realized too late it wasn’t.

“How can I help you, Harriet?” Rumple asked softly. She looked at him again, fire and rage in her eyes, and they stood still for a moment. Suddenly, Harriet’s shoulders slumped, and she looked away from him. She just wanted to be comforted and yet she didn’t want to be held. Remembering Rumple said he was a Storyteller, she bit her lip and asked self-consciously, “Tell me a story?”

Rumple smiled, grateful for a task, and took her hand. Harriet felt a spark travel up her arm at the contact. She followed Rumple into the living room and let him guide her to the couch. She watched as he sat on the seat of his spinning wheel. Leaning forward he asked, “What kind?”

Harriet was still very upset and knew a funny or amusing story would only agitate her. A story about love or family would hurt her. That left pain and anger. She wanted to wallow in her hurt.

“Tell me a story about hate,” Harriet demanded darkly. Rumple sucked in a breath. Only one story sprung to mind, and he found himself reluctant to tell it. It would not show him at his best. He wondered why she suddenly found herself in such a dark mood. She had seemed fine before he had taken the phone from her.

However, he decided to be brave. He had promised to never lie to her. To tell her things that were uncomfortable to hear. It was only fair for her to know what kind of beast she had let into her home.

“I have the perfect story,” Rumple replied thickly. He swallowed, thinking of how Milah had looked at Killian as she lay dying.

“Once upon a time, there were two very different men.” Rumple began, “Both happened to love the same woman.”

Storybrooke

Henry threw his phone on his nightstand and dove for the bed. He didn’t want to speak to anybody, but he knew Regina wouldn’t listen to what he wanted. After losing him for a year, Henry thought she would be different. Yet everything was the same. She still told him how he should feel. She still made him feel crazy.

When he met Emma for the first time. He was excited. He would finally have a mom that loved him. He hadn’t understood what the dark curse had done to Regina. In getting her revenge, it had created a hole inside her. A hole that nothing, not even love, could fill. Once the dark curse was broken, Regina was free to feel again. He realized then that he wanted both of his moms in his life. When Neal showed up, he thought he had a partner for his new mission.

Then everything with Pan happened and his whole life changed forever. His moms took his memories and refused to give them back until long after his father was dead. They controlled who he could see. They did everything they could to keep him from his Grandpapa, until Regina needed him to spy on Rumple. To find the “author” that didn’t even exist.

He had gone along with it. Believing them when they told him his Grandpapa would hurt him. Even Snow and David had sided with Emma and Regina. They insisted that Rumpelstiltskin was dangerous.

Then Henry spent time with him. The dark wizard never belittled Henry. He never made him feel crazy. He spoke to him like he was smart enough to understand. The more they spent time together, the more Henry looked forward to it. The more he felt safe.

Still, he never actually called him Grandpapa before. He had wanted to, but Rumple had never corrected Henry when he called him Mr. Gold. It had hurt, but he also knew that Rumple was still grieving. That everything was probably too overwhelming. Rumpelstiltskin was a skittish person and Henry knew he couldn’t rush their relationship. It would take time.

Then, Rumpelstiltskin was gone. Leaving him alone with two inattentive mothers, distracted grandparents that were too young to be grandparents, and Killian Jones dogging his every step. He hated it.

Hook was being way too forceful in trying to get Henry to like him. Emma was being too over the top trying to convince everyone that she loved Hook, and Regina was running around town playing house with the newly returned Robin. While he didn’t actually hold anything against Robin, he was still frustrated by the lack of attention from Regina. All she seemed to do lately was nag at him.

“Henry,” Regina said, coming into his room, “Come out with us.”

“No thanks,” Henry said, looking away from his mom to stare at the head of his bed. He was lying on his stomach, clutching his pillow like a lifeline. Hoping she didn’t notice how red his eyes and nose were from crying.

“Henry,” Regina began seemingly out of patience, but then he heard Robin’s soft voice say, “Regina, just let him be. He needs time to process all the changes.”

“I don’t need time for anything,” Henry declared, both appreciative of Robin and irritated by him. Robin was a good man and a very good father, but Henry was leery about letting him close. Would he be another person in his life trying to poison him against his Grandpapa? Would he be another Hook? “I just don’t want to go.”

Regina just sighed, “You can be as stubborn as Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Well maybe if you didn’t keep him banished, he would be here to deal with me instead of you!” Henry snarled as he sat up. She always threw Rumpelstiltskin in his face when he did something she didn’t like.

“Henry,” Regina snapped, “He tried to kill Killian.”

Henry snapped back, “He was trying to cut his ties from the dagger! How could you blame him after what your crazy sister did!”

“Henry!” Regina said shocked, “Zelena is dead now thanks to Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Good riddance,” Henry snarled, his eyes narrowed, and his voice turned ugly.

Regina just stared at her son, truly realizing for the first time that Henry really was the grandson of the Dark One. That Henry favored him in a lot of ways.

“We will discuss this later,” Regina said, her tone final. She turned toward the door but then looked back at Henry and said, “I love you.”

Henry just glared at her as she left.

Robin watched as Regina left and said, low, “I’ll talk to her.”

“Whatever,” Henry replied, unable to accept the thief’s help. He closed his eyes and flopped on his back, starting at the ceiling. Once again, he felt his whole world was spinning out of control. Ever since his grandmother had given him the Once Upon a Time book, he had never truly felt settled.

He needed a plan. He knew that he needed his Grandpapa. While he would prefer to go visit him, Rumpelstiltskin insisted it wasn’t an option. Hearing the pain in his voice, he knew it was true. It made Henry want him back all the more.

Picking up his phone, Henry put it in his pocket and decided to go for a walk. There was the beginning of a plan forming, he just needed to work out the details. He knew the dagger, the gauntlet, and the Ice Queen’s scroll were all important. He just didn’t know how.

He needed Operation Gold to be flawless.

London

“So that’s who Hook is,” Harriet said, leaning back against the couch. She had been surprised when Rumpelstiltskin had started recounting a story from his own life. She hadn’t meant for him to. In fact, it might have been better if he hadn’t.

Not only was Rumpelstiltskin a murder, but he had killed his own wife. Ripped her heart out and coldly crushed it. He had watched the light die in her eyes and cut off Hook’s hand to get what he wanted.

A bean. A way to find his son.

She supposed that was the point of the story. Rumpelstiltskin refused to let his hate for Captain Hook go and it cost him his family. Killian had refused to let his hate for Rumpelstiltskin go and it twisted him.

“However, how was your banishment his revenge?” Harriet asked. Rumple turned away from her then and began to spin. He didn’t want her to know. Every piece of information he gave her was another stab to his heart. He regretted everything he had done and having to confess it to Harriet was literally painful. He felt his heart clench in the center of his chest, and he suddenly felt lightheaded. However, it passed as quickly as it came, leaving Rumpelstiltskin confused.

“What is he doing now?” Harriet continued, noticing Rumple’s discomfort but still pushing forward. She needed him to open up. Rumpelstiltskin made a disgusted noise and said, “He is dating my grandson’s mother.”

“Isn’t he your son’s step-father?” Harriet asked, startled. Rumple just nodded.

“Well…. that’s…...complicated,” Harriet replied delicately.

“You don’t say,” Rumple replied sarcastically. Looking over at Harriet, he sighed in defeat. He needed to tell her the truth. It was only fair. Taking a deep breath he confessed, “I tried to kill him. That’s why I got banished two months ago.”

Harriet didn’t say anything to that. There wasn’t much to say. Rumpelstiltskin had a rage problem, just like she had a drinking problem. She hurt herself, while Rumple hurt others.

Nobody was good in Rumple’s story. They were all flawed and broken people filled with hate. It was exactly the kind of story she had asked for.

It didn’t make her feel any better. If possible, it made her feel worse.

“Why did you kill her?” Harriet asked quietly. Rumpelstiltskin had clearly loved his first wife. When he had spoken of her, she could hear the pain in his voice. A pain only lost love could bring.

Rumple stopped spinning. He looked at her then and said brokenly, “I was angry. When she told me she never loved me, something in me broke.” Rumple turned back to his spinning wheel, “I haven’t been the same since.”

The silence was thick between them. Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on as Harriet quietly excused herself and fled to her room. It bothered him that they were ending the day like this. They had a pleasant morning. She had been the perfect companion and he had done his best to be charming. From her smiles and laughter, he had succeeded. However, between their argument, his outburst in the foyer, and the ugly truth he had just confessed to, he was sure she was disgusted by him.

He wondered if he should leave. He was clearly overstaying his welcome. However, they still had to figure out how to separate their minds or they would forever be plagued by the other. Besides, Harriet was still obviously having issues with her drinking, and Rumple didn’t want to leave her alone.

Still, it seemed odd to him that he was apparently just living with Harriet now. It was only a matter of time before someone stumbled onto their secret and he could only obliviate so many people. He figured Albus Dumbledore would be impossible.

Although, he had no idea of where he could go. There was still much they hadn’t spoken of. The fact that the Ministry now had a Dark Arts Division made Rumple nervous. It didn’t help that Belle wanted a divorce, which could potentially leave him destitute. They had no prenuptial agreement. She could push for everything.

He would give it to her. Belle was his sweetheart and he had hurt her.

“I need you to be less of a doormat,” Harriet suddenly announced, a bit of an edge still in her voice.

Looking up, he found Harriet leaning against her bedroom doorway, arms crossed. She had taken off her robe but this time her nightdress didn’t cling to her. There was lotion on her face that gave her a healthy glow and her hands continued to shake as she brushed hair from her face.

Absently, Rumple wondered why she always wore long sleeves.

“Isn’t it early for bed?” Rumple asked nervously, clearing his voice. Panic seized his chest, very different from the pain before, and his fingers fluttered against the gold thread he was spinning. He felt nervous with her staring at him in nothing but a nightdress. It didn’t help that she looked pretty in the lamp light. Or that he still vividly remembered the way the same nightdress had clung to her, hinting at secrets Rumple could only imagine.

“You’ve been spinning for three hours,” Harriet said, leaning her head on the doorway. She looked tired and unsatisfied. She was staring at him with that unreadable expression Rumple was starting to dislike, “You started muttering loudly to yourself about a divorce and giving your wife everything,” Harriet continued, “You’re being a wimp.”

“She deserves everything,” Rumple said defensively, “I’m a terrible husband.”

“It’s not like Belle is the best wife,” The Darkness hissed.

“Maybe,” Harriet conceded, “You haven’t told me everything that happened.” She was quiet, hoping Rumple would continue to fill her in. He had been rather forthcoming about what had happened with his first wife, but silent about the second. It made her wonder why. She already knew he was banished for trying to kill Hook. What more could it be?

When he didn’t say anything, she continued, “Yet, from the way you talk, I don’t think you abused her.”

“Of course not!” Rumple snapped, standing up and clenching his fists, “Is that what you think?”

“No,” Harriet said, defiantly and without hesitation, “I think you truly love her. I think something more happened then you’re telling me. I have pieced some of it together. You tried to kill Hook, somehow a gauntlet was involved, and your wife seemed to have clearly thought you preferred power over her.”

Rumple crossed his arms and looked away. She was becoming increasingly good at figuring him out. Something that nobody else seemed able to do. Not even his wife.

“Look,” Harriet said, when Rumple refused to engage with her, “We are going to need some money not attached to Gringotts, Rumpelstiltskin. So, you are going to have to keep some of your damn fortune.”

“How do you know I have a fortune,” Rumple muttered again, sulking.

“Armani isn’t cheap,” Harriet said evenly, “And I’m not stupid.”

Rumple snorted, “No, you certainly aren't. You seem to have me figured out.”

“Like calls to like,” Harriet muttered, still watching him from the doorway. When he was sad and vulnerable, it was so easy to forget he murdered her parents and ruined her life. Clearing her throat she continued, “The Dark Lord will mark her as his equal.”

Rumple looked at her then and sarcastically replied, “If I remember correctly, it also said; and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.”

“And we did,” Harriet said with a sad smile, causing Rumple to stiffen “Because make no mistake, Rumple. You killed me for sure. Being your horcrux was the only thing that saved me.”

Rumple deflated, “And yet, we still seem to just be surviving. I can’t do good for doing wrong and you…...well….” Rumple trailed off. Not wanting to say what he knew to be true.

“I’m an alcoholic,” Harriet replied, evenly, “All I do is drink. I’ve gone to five rehabs in five years, and nothing seems to help.” Harriet paused and licked her lips. Confessing this was hard, but it felt good to finally put her struggles into words, “I can be good for days and weeks. I can sometimes even quit for a few months but something inevitably sets me off and there I go again,” Harriet sighed, exhausted, “Drinking myself stupid.”

Rumple wanted nothing more than to help her. He felt his hand twitch with the need to reach out to her but held himself back. She was so guarded and stiff. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch her.

“I just don’t know how to stop,” Harriet cried, tears suddenly falling. She put her hands to her face to hide them. Without thinking, Rumplestilskin crossed the distance between them and wrapped her tightly in his arms. Harriet laid her head on his chest and sniffed, desperately trying to hold back her pain.

“I’ll help you,” Rumpelstiltskin said. Placing his cheek on top of her head, trying to give her the support she gave him earlier. He breathed in her scent and closed his eyes. She smelled of pomegranates and honey.

“You don’t drink,” Harriet sniffed again. She took in his scent, cedarwood and coffee, and allowed it to calm her.

“No, but I do make horrifically bad decisions that change the course of my life,” Rumple replied with a self-deprecating smile. Pulling back slightly to look at Harriet he continued, “Not to mention the lives of others. I need someone to help me break those habits just as you need someone to help you stop drinking.”

“I like that idea,” Harriet said with a soft smile.

Rumple smiled back, wishing for her to never leave his arms. Her warmth surrounded him, filling him with a peace he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Everything was still, nothing seemed to move or breathe. He found himself glancing at her lips in contemplation. He wondered what she would taste like.

Startled by his own thoughts, he swallowed and took a step away from her, plastering on a smile. He had no idea where his desire for her was coming from. He had felt his regard for her building all day, his need to protect her was absolute. She deserved protection after everything he had done to her. But this? This was unexpected.

Rumple watched her as she stepped back into her bedroom, rubbing her nose on the back of her hand. She didn’t seem to notice his conflicted feelings, which comforted Rumplestilskin. She could never know the direction of his thoughts.

Goodnight, Rum,” Harriet said, with what he thought was a wistful smile. She shut the door and he closed his eyes while he listened to her get ready for bed. It was comforting to know she was just on the other side of the door. That he was close in case she needed him.

“Goodnight, Beauty,” Rumple whispered, opening his eyes and placing his hand on the door. The name came across his lips unbidden, just as Baelfire’s name had. It felt right to say out loud. She was the kindest person he had ever met and he could only imagine how bright her heart would shine in his hands.

Smiling wistfully, Rumple went back to his spinning wheel. He vowed then that he would do anything it took to help her. She was everything that was good and kind in the world. She needed his help and attention, not his desire. She deserved someone to stand by her, and if it had to be him, then so be it.

Storybrooke

Henry wandered into the diner, looking to drown his sorrows in hot chocolate. While he had finally decided on a solid plan, he was unsure who to ask for help. According to the Once Upon a Time book, Dr. Hopper would be an excellent choice. However, he was afraid he would tell his moms. While Archie could be trusted in most situations, if he felt Henry could hurt himself, he had no trouble telling on him.

Looking around, Henry decided to sit in the far corner, away from the other patrons. He didn’t feel much like chatting and he usually found the space by the bathrooms empty. He looked through the menu idly, even though he knew it by heart. He was about to go find Ruby, so he could order, when he became aware of a heated conversation happening behind him. Carefully looking over his shoulder, his eyes landed on Archie and Ruby. Shifting quietly, he leaned closer and found he had the perfect spot to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“I don’t know Archie,” Ruby hissed, “He isn’t calling us back. I don’t know what we are going to do if we can’t get a hold of him.”

“Micheal said Belle is being stubborn about the dagger,” Archie whispered back clearly angry. Henry was surprised. Dr. Hopper almost never allowed himself to become upset, not since their adventure in the mines.

“Why?” Ruby asked in disbelief, “She’s fucking around with the town drunk! Why does she care who has the dagger?”

“I know,” Archie said, rubbing the back of his neck in annoyance, “But it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love Mr. Gold.”

“That makes it more shitty,” Ruby replied, obviously frustrated. Looking around her eyes suddenly landed on Henry and he quickly dunked his head. However, he knew he had been caught when he heard Ruby’s heels clicking together. Looking up, Henry found her scowling at him, “What can I help you with, Heny?”

“I was hoping for some hot chocolate,” Henryreplied quietly, and then taking a chance he whispered, “I just wanted something to cheer me up. I miss Grandpapa.”

Ruby cocked her head and looked at Archie. Archie stared at Henry for a moment and then nodded at Ruby. Looking back at Henry she said, “David? I know he is busy lately, but if you go to the Sheriff’s office he will see you.”

“Not Grandpa,” Henry corrected, curious to see how this conversation would go, “Grandpapa.”

Ruby grabbed him by the shoulder, a bit harder than she intended, and whispered, “Have you spoken to him?”

“Yes,” Henry said, whispering back. He was a little surprised by Ruby’s intensity but refused to show it. He knew he had the upper hand in this conversation, and if he had learned anything from Rumplestilskin, it was to keep the upper hand.

Archie came over and slipped into the vacant chair beside Henry. Ruby muttered to him, “He’s spoken to Gold.”

“How is he?” Archie asked. Henry could see how tense he was. The psychiatrist was trying to remain calm and mild mannered, the man most everyone knew, but Henry could tell there was an edginess to him that was typically masked with nervousness.

“He…..,” Henry bit his lip and thought of what to say. Rumple had seemed upset but Henry didn’t want anyone to know that. Knowledge was power after all, “ He said he was with a friend and that he wasn’t in America anymore.”

“Where is he, Henry?” Archie asked urgently.

“Why do you want to know?” Henry asked gruffly, frowning, “I’m not going to let you hurt my Grandpapa.”

“Why would you think that, Henry?” Archie asked, dismayed and taken aback. He thought Henry trusted him.

“Because I heard you say someone was trying to get the dagger from Belle,” Henry replied, crossing his arms and leaning away from the adults, “I’m not stupid. Only people that want to control Grandpapa want it.”

“Which is why we are trying to get it from Belle,” Ruby said, almost pleading, “She isn’t keeping it safe Henry. She carries it everywhere.”

“What?” Henry hissed, clearly angry, “Anyone could take it.”

“Yes,” Ruby said, sourly.

Henry sighed, suddenly very tired. More forces were against them than he originally prepared for. He felt overwhelmed. Looking between the adults he made a decision and prayed it was the right one. Whispering, he said, “I came up with a plan. I’m calling it Operation Gold.”

Archie and Ruby looked at each other and then Henry. Both were leery about Henry participating in their coup. However, it was becoming obvious they didn’t have much of a choice. It also didn’t help that Henry was surprisingly good at planning for someone so young. They could do worse than joining forces with Henry Mills.

“Oh?” Archie asked, eyeing Henry curiously.

“I need a thief,” Henry said, staring Archie in the eyes, “A good one. One that actually wants to help my Grandpapa.”

Archie sighed, he knew what Henry was getting at and he didn’t like it.

“I haven’t done anything like that in a long time,”Archie replied, looking away from Ruby and Henry.

“You?,” Ruby hissed in disbelief, “You used to be a thief?”

“More of a con man,” Archie corrected with a sad, twisted smile.

“But do you remember how?” Henry asked quietly, suddenly realizing he was asking a lot of Archie.

“Perfectly,” Archie replied, his voice hard, “It’s not something you forget how to do.”

“Will you do it?” Henry asked, but then Regina and Robin came in with Roland

Ruby immediately took Henry’s order to the back. Archie just smiled at Henry and said, “I think I may have what you're looking for, Henry. Let me find it.”

Henry nodded and watched as Archie left, leaving him with an annoyed Regina.

“I thought you didn’t want to come?” Regina asked impatiently.

Henry just grimaced and followed her to a booth, “I changed my mind.”

Regina beamed at him then. Henry just dunked his head and began to drink the hot chocolate that Ruby sat in front of him. Looking down, he noticed Ruby had left a napkin with writing on it. Thinking fast, Henry acted like he was wiping his mouth with it, and then balled it up and slipped it into his pocket. Nobody at the table seemed to notice.

Later that night, Henry went to the bathroom and pulled the napkin from his pocket. Smoothing it out, he read the words, “Tuesday, noon.” With an address underneath it. Once he memorized the address, he balled the napkin and flushed it down the toilet. To keep his cover, Henry relieved himself and washed his hands. He walked out of the bathroom and wished his mom and Robin a good night before climbing the stairs to his room. Confident nothing could be traced back to Ruby or Archie.

As he laid in bed, he began to feel excited. In two days, he would finally have people to help him bring his Grandpapa home. He wouldn’t be alone in his quest. He just hoped Ruby and Archie were wanting Rumpelstiltskin back for the right reasons. If not, and they succeeded, he would just have to make sure Rumple knew they would double cross him.

He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.