Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

New York City during the peak of the holiday season was an incredibly busy place. People in the city always moved with purpose, but now they rushed as if every second of their day counted for something lost forever. Locals brushed past gawkers without even a glance at the people they nudged along the way. Cars blared their horns in long stand offs with pedestrians, before slushing through unattractive piles of snow leftover from the previous evening’s precipitation. Some nearly avoided trucks parked in the middle of the street, blocking traffic so their deliveries could get to stores that were absolutely packed for Christmas. In the distance sirens blared, sounding more like a pack of laughing robots than vehicles racing to an emergency. Yet as busy as the streets were, their beauty at this time of year was overwhelming.

Lights fought the darkness wherever someone looked, either wrapped around poles or formed into wintery shapes that hung from windows, street signs, and awnings. Occasionally entire statues radiated brilliant colors as they struck their permanent poses. Reds, greens, whites, yellows, and blues filled the senses, the bulbs always spreading a sense of false warmth through the chill of the northern winter.

There was beauty elsewhere too. Tiny crystals of snow drifted around Rumplestiltskin as he escorted Belle down the streets. Each tiny crystal sparkled in the light, swirled in the breeze, and made everything they fell on glisten. Winter was a dark time for Rumple, but also happened to be one of the seasons he and Belle cherished as a couple. Being out with the chill of the air on their cheeks made their time together even warmer. The bits of moisture added perfection to the moment, floating around them like dust motes bringing magic to a world without it.

The Golds hadn’t intended to be here for the Christmas season, but their research had slowed and Gideon desperately missed Lexington and the other Gargoyles, so Rumple and Belle had agreed on a detour. The fact that they’d arrived just as the holiday decorations were going up was a pure coincidence.

“Look at the deer.” Belle pointed to a collection of scraggy trees across the street from where they stood. Covered in red lights, the pillars of life surrounded three giant statues of deer that were radiant in electric blue. Each was a different size from the next, making an illuminated family in the tiny forest. They looked like children’s toys, enlarged to something well over the size of a human, and covered in tiny bulbs that sparkled in the darkness.

“Beautiful,” he said. “I suppose we should stop at Rockefeller Center as well.”

“Oh?” Belle blinked as she looked up at him, snowflakes melting on her lashes.

“Isn’t that where everyone wants to go?” Rumple pulled her closer as they walked along, offering his warmth to her through the close contact. “To the tree and the skating?”

“You’re offering to go skating?”

“No, I’m offering to let you see others go skating,” Rumple chuckled.

Belle shook her head. “We’ve been to New York City enough times that I don’t feel the need to do everything the tourists do,” she told him. “I’m happy enough to just have our dinner and maybe spend some time looking in the shop windows. They’re all so festive.”

They wandered along in silence for a time, gazing at one display after another, occasionally commenting on a store’s theme. Shops that weren’t decorated for Christmas were readying themselves for other holidays. Glittering dreidels and shiny menorahs easily competed with their similarly festive neighbors who lured shoppers with pine boughs and piles of presents. Occasionally red, green, and black came into view, surrounding mkekas and kinaras. It was heartwarming to see the holidays coexisting in harmony. For Rumple, that togetherness was a part of the charm. The brilliance of the holidays was his reminder that this was a season for love and sharing, warmth and light, despite his history with its darkness.

“A little early for that.” Belle paused at a window of a Chinese restaurant, where one of the employees was lifting a paper lantern to a hook in the ceiling. “There’s still more than a month before the lunar new year and longer until the lantern festival.”

“You’re complaining?” Rumple tipped his head and watched as another lantern, decorated in a different pattern than the first, was hoisted at the other side of the window. He thought about the darkness of winter, which pulled up memories of an infancy he shouldn’t be able to remember. Recalling that time made his body quiver in waves, a subconscious attempt to shake the images away the way a dog sheds water. “I think the more light we have this season the better.”

She smiled at him, squeezed his hand, then nodded at the door. “Should we go here for our dinner? Try and avoid the crowds on these streets for a while?”

The tiny restaurant had already served the last of the dinner rush at this hour. Tables hidden under white cloths sat empty, save for the two against windows and one by a side wall. This was the hour when all the tourists were in a theater. Locals would be headed to clubs, or on the subway, on the way home and to their beds.

“It’ll be quieter, that’s for sure,” Rumple told her. He raised his eyebrow, then curled his lip in the Dark One’s playful sneer. “Think we can make dinner last long enough to regain some peace and quiet on the streets?”

Belle straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, accepting his silent challenge. “One way to find out.” She opened the door and headed inside.

A woman approached them immediately, flashing a broad smile. “Welcome. You’re coming for dinner?”

“Yes,” Belle said. “Just the two of us.”

“Two. Okay.” Their hostess glanced around the empty room and then back at Belle and Rumple. “You prefer someplace quiet maybe? For a date?”

“Actually, we’d love a window,” Rumple told her. “We’re happy to wait and I’ll pay for the inconvenience of moving us once one is ready.”

For a moment the woman seemed confused, but she composed herself quickly. “Yes. Yes. Waiting is fine.”

Belle glanced at Rumple from the corner of her eye and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe we could just have tea at this table here?” The small table nearest them was already prepared for two and surrounded by larger settings, all of them empty.

The woman bowed slightly. “Yes, please. Sit. I will have them bring tea.”

Rumple held a chair for Belle, then walked around to claim his seat. “I’m not letting you get off that easy,” she huffed before he could get settled.

“Whatever do you mean?” Rumple shot her a playful grin as he lowered himself to his chair, then rested his arms tenderly on the edge of the table, pretending some conspiracy required that he lean in closer.

She nudged his foot with hers as they settled. “Asking for a window.”

“You were the one who asked for the tea,” he reminded her, nudging back with his knee.

“Well, I wasn’t going to just sit here talking,” she proclaimed. “Besides, the restaurants here always serve endless hot tea. It seemed a good thing to suggest.”

It was, of course, but Rumple wasn’t about to let Belle outdo his spur of the moment genius during their impromptu challenge. When a waiter came over with a large pot of tea and two cups, Rumple beamed at him. “Thank you. Can we have another as well? Something on the menu, perhaps?” The man nodded sharply and hurried off.

Steam drifted from the spout, beckoning Rumple to serve the hot brew, even as his eyes followed their server. Relying on many years of practice eyeing Belle while he poured, Rumple reached for the teapot’s handle and tipped the hot liquid into each cup before letting his gaze leave the man and fall into Belle’s brilliantly blue eyes.

“Show off,” she huffed, though everything in her expression told him she enjoyed what she saw.

“What? You don’t expect me to sit and drink the watery offerings they give for free. We could be here for an hour. If we are going to wait that long, I’d prefer some flavor.”

Belle shook her head, but said nothing as their server returned.

He opened a menu and handed it over with the beverage list exposed for examination. “Teas are here. The house tea is very good for this cold today.”

“Oh, I’ll take that one,” Belle told him without even looking at the list.

The waiter turned to Rumple while making notes on his pad. “And you?”

“It’s an herbal tea?” When he got a nod in reply, Rumple smiled. “I trust my wife’s judgment in all things,” he said. “I’ll have the same.” Instead of handing over the menu, he made it a point to tuck the plastic-protected pages down under one arm that rested on the table. He then leaned forward over it and put on a conspiratorial tone. “You see, tea is one of the things that brought us together. We’re very fond of trying out new varieties.”

“I see. Yes. Okay. Two house herb teas and more for later, I think. Yes?”

Rumple nodded.

“Any food while you wait? Rolls or dumpling?”

“Now now,” Rumple told him. “We’ll save that for when the window seat becomes available.”

The man tucked his notebook into a pocket and nodded again, then left them.

They waited for a long while, sipping their way through three varieties of herbal tea and sharing conversation. Strangely, though they were in a public space which looked nothing like the castle, Rumple felt their time was reminiscent of those days. He found himself poised as the dark one in his chair, returning to familiar intonations and facial expressions. Belle was also changing, sitting and reacting as she would have in those days when it was just the two of them and the quiet seclusion of the mountains. They bantered back and forth, shared thoughts about the city, and were just beginning to wonder how long their stay in New York would last when they were moved to the window seat.

From that point through another ten or fifteen minutes their time was spent with getting resettled, ordering their soup and main courses, and refreshing the latest tea blend, which had been a favorite for both of them at the first sip. Service was practically instantaneous, since they were now the only patrons, and in hardly any time at all they had food and began their meal.

Outside the window, the crowds began to thin with the increasingly late hour. The snow had shifted from tiny flakes to larger, fat balls, then back again before stopping all together. It was a shame, Rumple thought. He quite liked seeing Belle sparkle under a layer of tiny crystals. He ate and watched the world, enjoying Belle’s company and conversation, wishing it would never end, but all too soon their plates were empty and the waiter arrived as their silent reminder that it was time to move on.

“The lanterns are just beautiful,” Belle told the man who had come to take their empty dishes.

“Yes,” he said. “New year is much later of course, but our restaurant celebrates early. Lights are everywhere for the holidays. So we put it up, even in December. Americans expect this now. Some towns in America have a lantern festival starting in November!”

Rumple had no idea what the significance of this could be, but Belle shook her head in disappointment. “So early. You shouldn’t have to adjust your culture to someone else’s expectations.”

“America wants everything all at once.” The man shrugged.

“This should cover both tables, the food, and the trouble of having us so late,” Rumple announced, handing over an nunmber of bills that he suspected would have paid for the meals of several couples. “We’re grateful for your hospitality. Please share some with the others for whatever holiday you prefer.”

The man blinked at the money in his hand and nodded, gave a brief whisper of thanks, then hurried away to whisper to the others, gathered near the back of the room.

Rumple stood and moved to where Belle sat. “How are you doing, Missus Gold?”

“Quite full, Mister Gold.” Belle rose and let him take her coat from the back of the chair. He guided each sleeve into place and settled it gently on her shoulders, letting his hands linger there for a tender caress. Beneath his fingers he felt her shiver. “A walk would do me some good after all of this delicious food.”

Rumple took up his own coat and shrugged it on. “Any place in particular you’d prefer to explore?”

She gazed out at the world beyond their little square of warmth. “I don’t think so. We never come at this time of year. I know it’s busier than usual, but the atmosphere is so alive. I’d like to experience everything a little bit more before we head back to the castle.”

“Everything?” Rumple’s eyes widened in a tease.

“You know what I mean. We should walk under some more lights, look into more shop windows, experience the breeze in our hair.”

“So, continuing all the consumer’s holiday events, then,” Rumple huffed playfully.

“It’s a beautiful time of year, no matter where someone spends it,” Belle insisted. She moved closer and met his eyes, her gaze softening. “Or what the relationship is between winter and the person walking beside you.”

Rumple felt his heart sink a little. Could they ever move beyond their joint histories and simply exist in a moment without shadows lurking around them? “I was teasing,” he said softly. He took note of their location and remembered Bae’s stories of New York and how he would often greet the horses standing at the curb near his apartment. “We can do whatever you like. A carriage ride in the park, even.”

Belle reached out to squeeze his hand. “We can spend time with horses anywhere,” she said. “I think I’d like to just walk a while longer.”

“Then walk we shall,” Rumple said and guided her out the door.

Though the snow had gone, the wind had picked up, blasting them when they crossed the threshold. Rumple lifted the collar of his coat and pulled Belle to his side with a sigh. “I suppose sneaking into a dark alley as Lacey and her dark lover is out of the question.”

Belle giggled. “Not entirely.”

Somewhere in the distance Rumple heard the sound of tires skidding in the snow. Late as it was now, the streets were practically empty, yet he couldn't make out where the noise was coming from. “Why is there always some idiot who thinks these roads are their personal speedway in the early hours of the morning?” He shook his head at whatever stranger was daring fate, pulled Belle closer still, and moved them both further from the curb.

She let him guide her under the false warmth of the shop lights. “There is always something happening in this city,” she reminded him. “No matter what time of the day it is.” Her head brushed against his shoulder, almost leaning into him. He had only seconds to savor the sensation before Belle sharply turned away, abandoning his proximity for the side of a building. “Rumple! Look at this one!”

White lights framed the shop’s window beside them, helping cast their reflections on the glass. Rumple first noticed Belle’s expression, mouth agape, eyes wide, but then followed her gaze to the decorated tree just inside. Covered in flocking that perfectly imitated snow, the tree seemed to be more rose bush than evergreen, for out of each branch grew the most beautiful red roses he had ever seen. “Are they real?” He leaned closer for another look and Belle followed suit, her forehead bumping the glass as she did.

“I don’t know. They don’t look like silk.” She turned her head this way and that, studying one flower, then a smaller bud. “I suppose they could be real. It is a florist, after all… but how would they be kept alive?”

Rumple’s eyes darted from branch to branch, looking beyond the dainty, twinkling fairy lights, hoping to catch a glimpse of where the thinner twigs joined together farther in. “They might have attached long stemmed roses with those individual water tubes to the branches themselves?”

“That wouldn’t keep them alive for so long,” Belle told him. “Father never liked those tubes. He always said the only thing they were good for was keeping the stem moist for transport. If he was making a display like this, he’d trim an actual bush to this shape before he’d put individual flowers on the tree.”

“I thought it was a bush too, at first, but that’s definitely fir.” Rumple pointed out one of the branches where the fake snow had crumbled away, revealing the dark green needles sticking out of the rounded tip.

Belle sighed and stepped back, drawing Rumple with her as she moved. “I’m sure we aren’t meant to know. It’s a magical season and we should just believe in the beauty of what they created.”

Rumple shook his head. “It is beautiful, but I don’t know that I’d want to believe both the roses and the pine were real. The pine scent would completely overwhelm the soft floral sweetness.”

“You’re assuming it is a real tree.”

“Hm.” That point Rumple had to concede. “So what you’re saying then, is that this fir look alike actually smells nothing like the season and instead is everything like a summer’s day in our old rose garden?” He thought about the days they’d spent at the Dark Castle, strolling past the numerous blooms. Their perfume came to his senses even now, carried on the wind against his cheeks and into his nose. So many hours spent there doing absolutely nothing. So many hours afterwards spent griping about the number of things he hadn’t gotten done because of the time they’d had together.

She wrapped her arm tighter around his, pulling herself close, mimicking the way every woman in New York City seemed to move when they were walking with their man in the snow. “What are you remembering?”

“Days at the castle, in the garden.”

“Anything in particular?”

Rumple chuckled at her as they walked away from the florist, back toward the Eyrie building. “Are you hunting for a specific suggestion, Missus Gold?”

“I might be, Mister Gold.”

Despite himself, Rumple felt his body tremble with delight at the sensual flow of her words.

“That feels promising…” Belle gave him a nudge.

“Perhaps I was just wondering what might have happened had we each been a little bolder back then.”

Belle stopped walking and tipped her head at him. “What do you mean?” With the sparkling rose tree and the lights that framed it distantly behind her, she appeared captured in time by some magic spell. New snowflakes drifted down from the sky, adding to the charm of the moment, sparkling around her face like magical dust come from some other realm. She was absolute beauty to Rumple in that moment and his heart leapt at the sight of her, just as it had years ago, whenever he caught himself gazing at her in the gardens from his tower window.

“Would you have accepted me there?” Rumple broke the moment, drawing her body fully against his and wrapping her tightly in his arms. “Scales and scraggly hair, long claws and all? I know you kissed me, but… Would I truly have had a hope of being yours in a deeper way?”

She didn’t answer with words, only draped her arms over his shoulders, raised up on her toes, and kissed him firmly.

Around them time seemed to spiral out of control, rushing past and swirling the snow along with it. Chilly wind hit Rumple’s face and played with his hair, making him wonder, not for the first time, if this was finally their true love’s kiss. Was a curse somewhere being broken? Was this the moment his darkness would be driven away forever?

“I love you,” Belle whispered when their lips finally parted.

Rumple gazed down into the crystalline blue of her eyes. He opened his mouth to reply, but in the same moment felt something careen into his body with such force that all of the air was knocked from his lungs. Gasping, Rumple tried to cling to Belle, but found she had somehow been torn away. He was drifting backward, or falling, or… being pulled?

“Rumple!” Belle cried out and lunged forward. He felt her fingers on his shoulder. For a heartbeat they were together again, then he saw a gloved hand swat Belle’s away. Someone else was with them, someone had her.

The moment Rumple regained his senses he felt warmth from a heat source at his back and the jarring sensation of his legs hitting a bar of metal.

“Get in!” A gravely voice rasped from behind him. Instantly Rumple felt another tug and then lost his balance entirely. He hit the cold ground first, then felt himself kicked and pulled, prodded and lifted until he was off the ground again.

“Belle..” He breathed, choked, coughed her name out into the air, but the sound that escaped was barely anything at all. Rumple tried to fight the enemies he couldn’t see, but quickly realized that both limbs were in the firm grasp of his attackers. His legs refused to do more than seek the ground beneath him and so he simply flailed, helpless. Struggling became more difficult as his lungs fought to take in precious gulps of air and soon he was sideways on the floor of a van, gazing out into the once beautiful evening at the woman he loved. Tears streaked her cheeks, even while she fought her own attackers.

Two men in strange helmets were hauling her away, or attempting to. Belle was struggling against both with all of her might, screaming out his name, calling for help from strangers that refused to come. The intimate emptiness of the streets they had hoped for all evening was now their enemy. No assistance would arrive at this time of night. The Gargoyles didn’t even know where they were, nor when they expected to return.

“Belle.” The sight of her blurred as Rumple’s eyes filled with his own tears. He pushed against the floor of the van, failed to find purchase with his feet or elbows. Trying again and again his arms and legs thrashed out. Maybe in his efforts he could entangle his captors in some way that would grant his escape. All the while his eyes were locked on Belle. She was being pulled to the curb. Soon she would be out of his line of sight, and in the street. “Belle!”

Then she was gone, her image replaced by the van’s door as it crashed into place, muffling the sounds of fists hitting flesh. Somewhere outside Belle’s grunts mingled with those of her captors; a multitude of voices expressing the primal need to release anger and frustration in the hopes of acquiring their prize or finding freedom. After an aching heartbeat Rumple’s body jerked, rolling with the van’s movement as it lurched forward. The sudden momentum drove his head into a corner where a seat joined the floor. Cold metal threatened to crack his skull, then was just as quickly gone as the van sped away, leaving only the sound of tires in snow for Rumple to hear.

Belle was gone.

The scent of leather and carpet filled Rumple’s nose, overcoming all else. There was no need for air, no thought of balance or pain, only the complete lack of her in his presence. He had failed her. All through the night his senses had taken in any thought of threat and sheltered her, but now, when she had actually needed his protection, he’d been overwhelmed. It was all false pretense, he realized. In this realm, where he had no power, he was just a useless coward, a sniveling husband begging for his wife to return. He hadn’t even been able to stand, hadn’t had the strength to free himself. How could he even begin to think he’d had a chance to help Belle?

For the first time in a very long time Rumple wished he had magic powerful enough to crush his enemies. He cursed himself and struggled inwardly to fan the hate he would need to conjure even a spark of his full power, but it was as useless as always. This wasn’t Storybrooke and there was too little to grasp, even for a realm that wasn’t quite as lacking in magic as it seemed. Succumbing to a feeling of utter uselessness, the anger crashed down to the bottom of Rumple’s heart, where it mixed with the final image of Belle he had seen.

She was panicked, hurting.

He abandoned her.

Somewhere in New York City, Rumplestiltskin’s true love was fighting for her life all because his Dark One’s powers were nullified by the realm’s lack of belief. Giving in to his emotions, Rumple’s body went slack. Let the journey toss him around between one seat and another, he decided. Let the van spin out of control and send him tumbling through the interior. He deserved every wound he would get, every cut and bruise. He hadn’t been able to protect his wife. And now she was gone.

Right there and then, Rumple curled into a fetal ball and wept, bawling with such release that every thought but emptiness poured from his mind.

* * *

“Let me go!” Belle’s fist made contact with the shorter man’s jaw and sent him spinning into the snow with a loud cry of pain. She thought she heard a crack, but it certainly could have been the sound of her own knuckles, they hurt badly enough. These two ruffians were solidly built. She felt she might as well be fighting the gargoyles themselves.

They were men though, she could make out as much even through the blur of the tears that filled her vision. Tall and thickly built, both wore some type of combat suit which included half-helmets with chin straps and dark visors. Anonymous villains, silent and fierce, they came at her from every direction. She refused to give in and lashed out repeatedly, making contact with one stomach, then one bulge lower down. The second man doubled over with a moan of pain and she smirked through her brief satisfaction.

“C’mon,” a deep voice rumbled behind her. There was an arm now that wrapped tightly around Belle’s chest, squeezing with all of its might. “We gotta get outa here.”

“She busted my jaw,” the first man complained as he staggered to his feet.

The second only continued to moan.

Behind her, Belle’s abductor huffed. “She’s just a broad, yeah? Get over it.”

Laughing at him in the back of her mind, Belle fained an attempt to wriggle from the man’s grip while simultaneously changing the positioning of her legs. In one sudden movement, her knee went up, then her foot shot down, and her heel fell exactly where she’d hoped, crunching solidly at a booted foot that was trying to find purchase on the compacted snow at the edge of the sidewalk. Gravity did the rest of her work for her, pulling her captor off balance.

She and the man went down together in a heap of arms and legs. Having enough experience in the saddle to have her wits about her during a fall, Belle rolled as her body landed on the mushy pavement. The man who’d held her, unprepared and lacking in her skills, crashed down with such force that his head bounced back up off the concrete curb when it struck.

“That’s going to hurt,” Belle whispered to herself as she scurried backward. She was in the road now, but traffic was hardly her concern. In fact, if a car found her staggering backwards, away from these goons, wouldn’t that be all the better?

To her right, tires spun in the muck left by the snow plows and Belle turned to avoid a collision. None came. Instead, she saw a van swerve around her and drive part way up onto the walk before stopping. A door opened and a gloved hand reached out.

“Get in, you idiots,” someone grumbled as the hand grabbed the fallen man by the collar and hauled him inside.

“My jaw,” the first cried again, stumbling toward his rescuer while his bent over partner folded himself into the vehicle’s opening.

“Your jaw will be the last of your worries if this fails.” The reply was a hiss, conveying a silent insistence to shut up and get moving.

The stumbling man lunged for the interior, the door slammed shut, and the van sped away, slinging up dirty snow onto Belle’s already wet clothes. More tires squealed at her back and Belle spun to see an identical vehicle racing away. From somewhere inside of her, something primal surged forward, making her scream with determination. Before her heart could beat once, she was charging after the second van, running full tilt, legs pumping out all the power she could give.

It wasn’t enough. In what felt like the blink of an eye, the vehicle was too far away.

Then it was gone.

Belle dropped to the ground, chest heaving as her lungs tried to fill with air. “Rumple,” she wailed twice, then whispered a third time. “Rumple…”

If they had truly been back in the Enchanted Forest instead of just lost in daydreams, that third name would have been enough. The Dark One could be summoned so simply, she thought. Anywhere else but here, in any other realm than this one. Instead of being warmed by her husband’s reappearance, Belle found herself consumed by the lack of him. Then, as quickly as the feeling overcame her, it was gone.

This was New York City, where the Golds had powerful friends.

“See how long you get to keep my husband,” Belle spat at the space where the van had been. Then she turned, ran back to the window with the beautiful Christmas roses and smashed the glass. As an alarm blared in her ears, Belle took in a breath and beamed. “My friends and I are coming for you.”

Chapter Text

A chilly wind whipped over the rooftop of the florist’s building, picking up snow and flinging it at Elisa’s knees. She tugged on the collar of her jacket, drawing it closer to her ears, then shoved her hands under her armpits to keep them warm. Beside her, Goliath’s tail whipped about, releasing his frustration out into the world, and creating a second battering of the snow piled up behind her. Beyond him, his daughter Angela stood, as if ready to leap on any would be attackers, held back only by the gentle touch of her mate, Broadway.

“The side of the van had a graphic on it.” Belle made a shape with her hands, then expanded them as if she were trying to measure the size of what she was describing. “It was black with a letter ‘G’ made out of the negative space.”

Goliath stilled, every muscle of his body tightening. “Gen-U-Tech,” he growled. “Sevarius.”

Elisa’s jaw clenched reflexively. “Not good.” She looked up at her mate with a sigh. “Think they’re still using the same warehouse?”

“I doubt it,” Goliath told her with a snort. “We will have to do some reconnaissance.”

Beneath them, the shop’s alarm was finally silenced and Elisa relaxed a little in the relative quiet that followed. Luckily, she had been the first car on the scene, with Goliath and the others following by air. Belle had been scooped up without anyone noticing and deposited here, out of the way of prying eyes. While they waited for backup, she and Elisa established a story for the official report. Attempted robbery and the successful kidnapping of a tourist. At least it wasn’t too far from the truth.

The door to the rooftop opened, revealing Elisa’s partner, Matt Bluestone, head of the Task Force. “The GTF has determined no Gargoyles were involved in this robbery. Still best to keep where you can’t be noticed.” His head bobbed toward the exit he’d just used.

Elisa glanced down over the low wall surrounding the roof. The buildings along the street flashed blue and red, reflecting the lights from the patrol cars below. Scattered among the vehicles were various officers and detectives, some talking, some taking notes, but none were gazing skyward. At least not yet. “Good idea,” she muttered, nudging Goliath further toward the center of the building. They couldn’t do anything to hide from anyone looking down from their apartments, but most New Yorkers would focus on the flashing lights and not the shadows on the dark rooftop above. The night usually worked as a decent camouflage for them. No point in stopping now.

“So, somebody fill me in?” Matt glanced from Goliath to Broadway and Angela before shooting a quirky smile at Elisa.

“Belle and her husband had a surprise visit from Gen-U-Tech,” Elisa told him.

“And somebody went through the window?” Matt looked Belle over. “Are you injured?”

Belle huffed. “The men who tried to take us should have a few bruises in the morning.”

“More than a few,” Goliath chuckled. “By listening to your account.”

Elisa nodded her head in Belle’s direction. “She broke the window. After the fact. We’re saying it happened in the struggle.”

Belle shrugged. “It was the fastest way to get you here.”

“Good call,” Matt told her and Belle nodded her thanks. “So. I’m guessing we look to Xanatos now?”

“Xanatos?” Belle narrowed her eyes. “Why would he do this?”

Goliath shook his head. “He wouldn’t. Not any more.”

“But there was a time when he would,” Broadway clarified. “He and Sevarius used to work together. It’s complicated.”

“Is Rumple in danger?” Belle’s voice was powerful and full of determination as she stepped closer to the group, body drawn to her full height. “I won’t leave him with anyone who can access his magic. The things they could do-.”

Goliath released a long, whistling breath, the kind he used as a delay tactic to prepare himself when revealing a difficult truth. “Yes. Sevarius is a scientist who is known for doing… unethical experiments on humans and gargoyles alike. He is responsible for creating new gargoyles through genetic manipulation. One of them is Elisa’s brother.”

Belle glanced over at Elisa and she nodded. “Another long story.” Belle didn’t bat an eyelash as if she were used to long stories being a part of someone’s everyday life. Considering who her husband was, Elisa realized that was entirely possible.

“A man like that, with Rumple’s power in his hands…” Belle swallowed hard, but her cold expression never faltered. “We have to get him back.”

Goliath turned a smile to her. “Accessing your husband’s abilities would be dangerous, indeed. We will have to begin a hunt right away. The clan will track him down from the air. We know the usual places where he hides and can cover more ground. The best thing for you to do is return to the tower and care for Gideon while we search. Perhaps you can talk to Owen, Fox, or Xanatos. See what they may know of Sevarius’ current whereabouts or what his plans might be.”

“Or why Sevarius would use one of his old vans for transport,” Angela added.

“Two,” Belle corrected. “There were two identical vans, driving off in two different directions.”

“Keeps us off the trail,” Matt shrugged.

“Well, if I go back to the tower I’m not going to sit helplessly and strike up conversation.” With that Belle turned and strode toward the roof’s door.

Elisa blinked after her. “Where are you going?’

Their guest turned and called over her shoulder. “Xanatos has cameras everywhere, doesn’t he? And you said he used to work with this… Sevarius. I’m going to learn as much as I can about what we’re up against. Xanatos doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who throws things away. He’ll have a library of recordings somewhere and I’m going through it.”

Goliath watched her go and released another long breath. Elisa did the same, not realizing she’d been holding hers in. She was not looking forward to having another encounter with the man who had mutated her brother and created her mate’s clone, Thailog. This clan was the original. Every clone and mutate in this city was the result of Sevarius and his experimentations. The existence of whole clans made of mutates and clones proved what horrors the scientist was capable of and what would happen to anyone in his care. Elisa didn’t even want to think about what it would mean to have Rumplestiltskin’s powers at the hands of a mad scientist with no fear at all.

“Won’t be easy keeping her on the sidelines,” Matt pointed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction Belle had gone.

“No, I didn’t imagine so,” Goliath said. “She is a warrior at heart, but she is also an excellent researcher. I would not be surprised if she uncovered her husband’s location through conjecture before we are able to locate him from the sky.”

“Also true,’ Elisa said, nodding. “How about this: I’ll go with her. She’ll need a ride anyway and I can help get her started. Lex can mic us up like he always does. The minute anyone finds anything we let the others know?”

Goliath nodded. “An excelent plan.”

Elisa stood up on tiptoe and rested her palms on Goliath’s chest. “Keep in touch?”

He caressed her hair, then bent lower to kiss her. “Always.”

* * *

Goliath watched for a heartbeat after Elisa and Matt disappeared into the building, then nodded at his daughter and her mate. “Head to the castle and gather everyone. Tell them to meet in the courtyard.” As one they nodded, then leapt for the nearest building, talons digging into the bricks as they climbed for a better updraft. He followed once they were clear, feeling the icy winds of Manhattan’s winter lift him and carry him toward his home.

As he glided along, he pondered the situation, running through reasons that Sevarius would resort to blaming Xanatos for this endeavor. Was it a personal vendetta? Some hope of repaying them for an unknown wrong committed against him? They hadn’t seen the scientist since Elisa’s nephew was born and that was almost as worrisome as the type of vehicle he’d chosen for the abduction.

Diving for the castle on top of the Eyrie building, Goliath landed in the courtyard, where Hudson was teaching Gideon the basics of sparing.

“Ah. You give yourself away,” the older gargoyle was saying. “You’ve to have a sense of all your surroundings.” Goliath’s mentor stopped and looked up as he landed. “That face means trouble.”

Gideon froze and looked around at Goliath, but didn’t speak.

“Sevarius,” Goliath offered, knowing the lack of other information and a glance at Gideon would be all Hudson would need to piece things together.

“Have you called the others?”

Goliath nodded. “Broadway and Angela are gathering them now. We should make a plan to search.”

Hudson turned to his young charge. “Probably best if you track down your mother, lad. She’ll be needin’ your help.”

“Right!” Gideon took off with his wooden sword, making a dash for the door that lead to the lower levels.

“Don’t run with it pointed so!” Hudson called after him, chuckling. “If it were real you’d be doing yourself a harm no magic could cure!”

The boy flung open the door with one hand, adjusted his grip on the false weapon, then turned a bright smile at the two Gargoyles before vanishing inside.

“No doubt taking the steps two at a time,” Hudson said, shaking his head. “So eager to be a hero.”

“Does his father know you’ve been tutoring him?” Goliath raised his eyebrows, then glanced up as the others began fly in.

“Aye. Gideon made me ask him personally. They’re an honest family, Goliath. They won’t hold the truth from each other, which means he’ll know all about this business soon enough.”

Goliath gazed sadly at the door and sighed. “Best for this news to come from Belle.”

One by one the Manhattan clan gathered around them, landing gracefully on the stones and striding forward with urgency. There were the usual questions, a jumble of voices all calling out at once, but Hudson hushed them all with a grumble. “Give him a chance. You’ll waste time makin’ him repeat himself, won’t ye?” Sheathing his dagger, Hudson straightened, as if bracing himself for whatever truth should follow. “Now, what has that madman done this time?”

Goliath glanced around at his family. “Sevarius has captured the Dark One and we must find him before he discovers how to harness Rumplestiltskin’s powers.”

* * *

Belle stormed down the corridor of the castle’s business area. Her heart was pounding. A part of her desperately needed to know what this scientist could do with her husband, but the rest already had some horrible ideas. The Golds still had the dagger, at least. It was safe and away from anyone’s control. But could it be possible for science to access magic that the layman could not?

She passed several doors before finding the one she was after. Without a thought to anyone’s privacy, Belle threw it open and marched right up to Owen’s desk. “I want to see everything you have on file about someone named Sevarius. Records, video recordings. Audio. Everything.”

The blond man paused in his work and sat back, stone arm covering his pile of written forms like a paperweight. “I’m afraid that I don’t know how to help you, Missus Gold.”

“Oh I think you do,” Belle snarled at him. She thrust herself forward so that her hands were spread wide on her side of the desk, bracing her body as she shoved herself into his space. “Goliath and Elisa seem to think you and Xanatos have known him for a while, and if there’s one thing I know about Xanatos, it’s that he keeps records of everything.”

Owen turned his head one way, then another. “I’m sorry, Missus Gold, but to find anything specific, I-”

“Drop the act,” Elisa called out from Behind Belle. “No one’s accusing anyone here of anything. But Sevarius just kidnapped Rumplestiltskin, using old Gen-U-Tech vans. I’m guessing you and Xanatos are going to want to start clearing his good name before Belle isn’t the only one asking questions?”

“He… But we severed ties with him long ago. I assure you, Miss Maza that-”

“Puck.” Belle spat the creature’s name into Owen’s face, knowing it would get his focus more than anything they had said so far. Calling his name out here, to his human form simply wasn’t done, but she had no choice. It erupted from her with such force that her voice nearly cracked from the effort. “He. Has. Rumplestiltskin.” She emphasized every word she spoke, staring beyond the stern human face into the magical being trapped inside. Then, just to make sure she’d driven the point home, she repeated the one word that mattered. “Rumplestiltskin.”

Owen flicked his eyes from Belle to Elisa, then back again. “Yes. I see.” It was all he offered as Owen, and Belle knew it was a lot more than she could expect on the matter.

Elisa folded her arms over her chest and carried on, unaware of the secret conversation passing between the two with magical knowledge. “You can save your assurances. This isn’t about Xanatos. Belle’s the best researcher anyone knows and we need her to help find Sevarius. She could find evidence for bees being allergic to pollen if there was any.”

Belle wrinkled her brow and shot a proud look at Elisa. “There isn’t,” she clarified, just because she could.

Elisa laughed and gestured at her, but kept her eyes on Owen. “See?”

“Mister Owen,” Belle hissed, silently apologizing for the use of his magical name earlier by emphasizing the human name and title. “I do not need to tell you what could happen if a man who does genetic experiments learns how to harness magic.” She thought about their history together and the time Puck turned Rumple into a lesson for Alex’s magical studies. “It wouldn’t be fun and games in a bookshop. If anyone is able to truly harness my husband’s power, he won’t be able to stop them.”

Xanatos’ servant swallowed and slowly rose out of his chair. “Yes. Well, I will still need to get clearance from Mister Xanatos.”

Belle picked up the phone that stood in front of her and handed the receiver out to him. “Here you go, then.”

* * *

“You’re sure about this?” Lexington’s voice came through the tiny bud of technology Brooklyn had in his ear. “Xanatos broke up Gen-U-Tech enterprises ages ago.”

“I know what I saw.” Belle’s voice followed, sounding distant and hidden behind keyboard clacks and computer whirs.

“He’s probably trying to implicate me in something,” Xanatos’ deeper voice followed, carrying better over the noise.

“Yeah, well we’ve been over all the usual areas,” Brooklyn told them. “No Gen-U-Tech, none of the usual goonies, and no lab coat wearing madmen either.”

“If the Gen-U-Tech van was a hoax to begin with, Sevarius could be anywhere,” Angela reminded them.

Brooklyn sighed and dove for the nearest rooftop. He was tired of straining to see something that might not even be there. “Okay. So assuming Sevarius is being his usual self, this is about letting us know he has Rumplestiltskin and rubbing our noses in his superiority at the same time.”

“Sounds about right.” Xanatos agreed.

Brooklyn tucked his wings around himself and bent over the building’s ledge to watch people walking around below. Could one of them be Sevarius in disguise? Were the man’s hired bullies pretending to roam the streets so they could track the gargoyles positions?

“My love?” Katana landed beside him.

“I feel like we’re being sent on a wild goose chase,” Brooklyn told her, shaking his head.

“Crocodile,” Gideon’s small voice piped in from somewhere distant. “Papa’s a crocodile.” More typing and whispered voices followed before he let out a yip of surprise.

“Good eyes,” Xanatos praised.

Brooklyn looked back toward the Eyrie building as if he could see them from his perch. “Find something?”

“Maybe,” Belle answered back, in a way that implied she was clearly distracted. Brooklyn couldn’t help wondering if she was even answering him. It was just as likely she was talking to herself or to someone beside her.

“Has anyone found anything?” Brooklyn turned slowly as he spoke into his mic, taking in the skyline, hoping to find whatever was making his skin crawl. If the vans were used to make them assume Sevarius, why wouldn’t he be in the usual places? Why?

The word “nothing” came back to his ear in various ways from multiple voices, all at the same time.

He groaned. “I’m telling you, I don’t like this. We should get back to the castle.”

“We still have several hours before dawn,” Goliath told him through their connection. “It would be best to try and-”

“There!” Belle’s voice erupted through the ear piece, followed by Gideon’s cheerful cry of delight. “We’ve got it.”

Brooklyn heard Xanatos next, chuckling through the line. “That was fast. Ever thought of working for a business enterprise, Missus Gold? I could make a few positions available.”

“I’ve got an address,” Lexington said over the tapping of his talons on computer keys.

“Let me guess, it says ‘Rumplestiltskin was here’ on the side of a building?” Brooklyn snorted once, then the soothing touch of his mate eased his frustrations. “Sorry.”

“I had Lex triangulate the positions of Sevarius’ past known locations, then searched the city archives for evidence of abandoned buildings in that search area. With that radius I cross referenced the police reports Elisa had access to and found one building, supposedly abandoned for years. Only someone’s using it. In the past few weeks there are multiple reports of suspected trespassers on the property who can’t be found once law enforcement arrives. Thorough examination of the property proved no evidence of a break in and no one to be seen within blocks in any direction.”

“They’ve got it marked in the reports as homeless activity,” Elisa added. “Which would make sense if they reported the usual junk piled around, but it’s clean as a whistle.”

“Someone has a way in, it would seem,” Goliath rumbled. “Where should we meet?”

Just as Lex was reading out an address, an explosion erupted in Brooklyn’s ear, loud enough that he tore the device from its place and winced at it from arm’s length. “What happened?” He shouted into the microphone around his neck. “Someone’s under attack!”

“We are under fire,” Coldstone’s voice crackled distantly out of the ear bud now held carefully between Brooklyn’s talons.

“Get us your location!” Goliath’s order followed over Brooklyn’s sigh.

“Great,” Brooklyn spat, palming the listening device. “Guess we found out why he wanted us all out searching.”

Chapter Text

Every muscle in Rumple’s body ached and the slight chill in the air did nothing to make him feel any more comfortable. His head pounded, either from the beating he’d taken on the way here or because the lights were so bright that they practically crackled with the electricity coursing through them. Slowly he lifted an arm and draped it over his closed eyes, hoping it would bring some relief, but it didn’t help. The noise was still there and the cold with it.

And Belle was still gone.

The pitch black his inner elbow created only served as a perfect canvas for the replaying of the evening’s events. He saw flakes of snow, the buildings moving around him of their own accord, and Belle, fighting for her freedom. Then she was gone. He cringed and threw his arm back at his side, begging the electric sounds to claim his sanity. Anything was better than reliving that pain again, knowing he’d been an absolute failure.

Voices from the past nagged at him through the hiss of the electricity around him. Women didn’t want cowards for husbands. True heroes fight for the people they love. As a man who had always run from a fight, he had nothing to offer anyone. Milah left him because he wouldn’t die fighting. The army ground his name into the mud of every town between the battle and his home, ensuring no one would purchase his goods.

But Belle had seen him at his weakest, she’d carried him to his shop, helped fight for his life when he had no power at all and no will to lift even a finger in his own defense. She would stay, wouldn’t she? Or would she leave because he couldn’t protect her? Worse, was she injured or killed because he couldn’t protect her? Rumple caught a whimper as it tried to escape him. The thought of Belle… like that… it was too much to bear.

“Good. You’re awake.” A slightly accented voice reached out to him from some great distance. “I hope you approve of your accommodations.” The man’s tone dripped with everything that was all too familiar. Power, sarcasm, disdain; all the things Rumple used as the Dark One to intimidate and bring fear to those who crossed his path. Rumple wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of playing along with the game. Waiting was something he would always excel at. “I’m afraid they’re built for creatures much stronger than mere humans.”

Boot heels tapped out a steady rhythm in the distance, halting only a moment before a new, gruffer voice joined them. “Everything happened just as you’d said. The Gargoyles abandoned the castle and split up to cover more ground.”

“Good, good. Wait until the cybernetic units are in the right position, then continue with the plan.” There was a pause, then the footsteps again, retreating this time. Before they got far, the snobbish man called back. “I want both of them alive.”

Rumple’s heart jumped a little at the hope that this conversation could have been about Belle. Had she escaped? Were the two of them the “both” this man emphasized? Giving in to his curiosity, Rumple opened one eye slowly, hoping to take in his surroundings. He found what he expected; cold concrete walls at his sides, the same behind. Captivity underground was nothing new to him, he recognized the difference in the air. They were probably deep in some building’s basement, surrounded by dirt or utility pipes or even the rock that Manhattan was built on. An excellent choice for a prison. Rumple would have chosen it. No one could hear his captive scream.

Somewhere something sizzled and despite his better judgment, Rumple let his eyes wander in the direction the noise came from. Past the foot of his bed, beyond the thick metal bars that helped contain him, a man stood, head bent to his work. Surrounded by beakers and measuring tools, a single burner glowed blue, sending a greenish bottled liquid into a frenzy above it. Beyond that were needles, knives, and syringes of all sizes, as well as some chain attached to thick metal cuffs, large tongs, and over sized pliers.

An excellent choice for a torture chamber, Rumple amended his previous assessment, closing his eye again. He tipped his head back on the pillow it rested on and begged Belle to hear his thoughts through some magical void that couldn’t exist. I love you, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.

He hadn’t heard her voice here, so there was a chance she’d gotten away. Rumple had to cling to that, forced himself to remember that possibility over and over again. It was all he had to cling to. That or his absolute failure. He had faith in her strength and ingenuity. If any woman could escape single-handedly from the situation he’d found himself in, it would be Belle. Even Emma had always needed a sidekick or ten in her own battles. Belle was special, remarkable in her individual abilities. She had to be safe.

“I’m sorry your wife couldn’t join us this evening,” the man beyond his cell announced while he worked. “I was truly looking forward to seeing what you were capable of together. No matter. You were my true target and thanks to her determination, I might just end up hitting two birds with one stone.”

The man’s chuckle made Rumple open his eyes to glare out past his prison. “Is there something amusing?” He hissed the words despite his better judgment. The conversation was nothing but a way to bait him and he didn’t want to fall for the man’s tricks, yet he longed to hear more. Belle was free. That alone could give him the strength to keep going through any captivity.

“Oh I think you’ll find the entertainment in it soon enough, Dark One. Just wait long enough and you will see…”

Rumple shot up from the bed, ignoring the protest in his muscles to sit, then bolted forward, toward the bars. He placed a hand on each and prepared to shout, but an electric fire coursed through him, sending his muscles into such horrible convulsions that he collapsed on the floor, gasping.

“Struck a nerve, did I?” The other man left his work then and strode forward, tisking. “I’m sorry about the state of your surroundings, you see, I typically have more physically powerful guests in these rooms. It’s necessary to include some natural deterrents.”

It had been the bars buzzing with electricity, not the lights. Rumple stared out beyond them at the legs of his captor. “You know… the…”

“Gargoyles? Yes. In fact, you could say we’re practically family.”

“I doubt it,” Rumple spat. Just making the words travel from him sent his back into spasms and he winced at the knife-like pain that shot suddenly through his shoulder, right to the bone. It above all the rest lingered, then retreated like a retracting blade.

“Hm. Well we can debate that another time. I have an experiment to conclude before you and I continue our work together.” The legs in front of Rumple turned and moved away. “You should rest. We have a lot of work to do, you and I.”

Rumple remained where he was, curled around himself on the hard floor. Exhausted and defeated, he found he could hardly resist the stranger’s suggestion, though he tried. Then Belle’s face came to his mind, eyes gazing into him with so much love. The coolness of them soothed him, bringing relief from the pain, then a blissful nothingness.

* * *

“Wakey, wakey…” The sing-song smugness of his captor brought Rumple to almost full attention.

His eyes blinked open, revealing the underside of his prison bed and the small, rectangular chunk of floor he’d had no choice but to lie on instead.

“Where. Are. We.” Dropping his human behaviors, Rumple arched his back and pushed himself to his feet, feeling more catlike than crocodilian.

“Manhattan. Come now, Dark One, I know my drugs are powerful, but your memory should still be intact.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” The hiss of the Dark One lingered in Rumple’s voice, though he wasn’t urging it to do so.

“Would you prefer something else? Rumplestiltskin, perhaps? It does have a nice connection to… What is it you tell everyone your name is, again? Oh yes… Mister Gold.”

Rumple’s lips curled in a sneer. “So you know my name. Do you think you can actually do something with it? This land has no magic.” He swatted at the air in front of his face as if he could bat the other man’s ideas the way he might shoo a fly. “My name is as useless to you as-”

He froze, staring at the hand he’d lowered only one second ago. Blinking his disbelief, Rumple raised it again, desperate to properly examine himself, though he already knew what he was seeing. At the cusp of his suit’s cuff, where the joints of his thumb met his hand, a dark green-gold was spreading. It dried his skin to a lumpy leather and covered it in a sheen of gold.

“How.” He couldn’t say any more, there was too much going on in Rumple’s mind to connect thought to word or expel accusations.

“Oh, I may not have magic like you, but I do have tricks that are all my own,” his captor cooed. “How does it feel to have power again? All of the universe at the command of your fingertips and every way possible to manipulate it…”

Rumple felt the magic pulling at him as the other man spoke. It was as if his every word drew more and more of the Dark One to the surface. Suddenly he realized it didn’t matter how his magic had returned. He had access to it again. Now, with his powers returning, he could free himself. He could find Belle and protect her from any harm that might come to her again. They would never have to worry about Gideon being hurt or lost. The old Rumplestiltskin could be back again, the one with strength and power.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his inner Dark One stopped him just in time. There was no evidence that they had transported him to a different realm. If this was still the Land Without Magic, Rumple would need to know how his abilities had returned before he began to use them. There might be a new and very different price for the return of his magic, a new price for its use. The “crocodile” settled in its usual place inside of him, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike. Rumple would use it to his advantage. He would wait, he would learn, he would only strike when all the answers were before him and a target was as clear as the scales spreading over his once creamy flesh.

* * *

“Do not listen,” Coldstone growled from his concrete cage. He could not see Rumplestiltskin, but he could hear him. The man was being kept somewhere to his left, perhaps in the very next cell, but more likely one further down. “Sevarius is baiting you.” He pulled on the chains that held him yet again, but could not break free.

“He can’t hear you,” the scientist said, “I made certain our special guest would have his privacy.”

“What do you want, Sevarius?”

“Why, more children, of course! Doesn’t everyone?”

Coldstone lunged for the bars of his cage, but couldn’t reach them.

“Oh, so eager to help! Well don’t worry. While you and your mate were sleeping I collected my initial samples. There is nothing more to do but wait. I suggest you do that to prevent any more injuries…”

“Do not worry, my love,” Coldfire’s voice echoed from the right of his position, so close that she could only be held just beyond the concrete at his side. “I am here and we will find an escape together.”

Coldstone lunged at the bars again, straining his mix of muscle and machine, but still nothing came of the effort, not even with this new motivation. “My love,” he rasped as his eyes took in what he could of his own body, searching for evidence of tampering or any wounds. There were none, which could lead him to only one conclusion. “Are you injured?”

There was a pause, one too long for Coldstone’s liking. “I am… not quite whole, but seem to be well enough.”

“What. Have. You. Done. To her?!” Coldstone lashed out toward Sevarius, twisting his body so that his tail could whip around at his side. Instead of finding relief from his situation, he made contact with the bars and the electricity that poured through him shocked his robotics, deadening them.

The scientist grinned gleefully. “I warned you.” He paced around his table and fiddled with his experiments, then moved so that he was fully in Coldstone’s view, centered in the mouth of his cell. Hands on hips, he tisked and shook his head sadly. “I would think you’d be happy for the gift I’m offering you.”

“And what would that be, Sevarius? The ‘gifts’ you arrange are manipulated into being through torture and science. They cost lives. They cost the sanity of everyone involved in them. What you have to offer is no gift.” Coldstone spat the words out, eyes narrowing at his target.

Sevarius turned away and walked out of view. There was a soft clatter of items being shifted from place to place before he returned, cradling a smooth, metallic object.

“An egg,” Coldstone whispered.

“Not just any egg,” the scientist told him. “Your egg. I told you I was making more children. One of them could be yours. A gift. Call it a thank you for helping me.”

“Children belong to the entire clan,” Coldstone told him, not wanting to believe that such a thing could be true. Could he and his mate truly have a child of their own? Would it be possible for a cyborg and a robot to join in such a way? Where would the child’s life energy come from? If Sevarius had anything to do with it, Coldstone was certain the answer to that question could not be one he wanted to hear.

“So you all say.” Sevarius shrugged before moving to set the egg on the table, then turned back to face him again. “But you can’t tell me your clan’s ancient ideals haven’t changed. Angela calls Goliath “father” and Brooklyn claims his children. Even Elisa and Goliath’s progeny follow the human traditions of calling out to their mummy and daddy… Don’t tell me you haven’t dreamed of something like that for your own.”

“My love, have you seen what he is doing?” Coldstone called out to his mate, hoping she had answers that he would never otherwise know.

“From what I have seen, the parts he has taken were added to something else, but to what I could not be certain. I would not have a way to explain how this could happen.”

“It’s simple, really,” Sevarius told Coldfire. “I’ve taken parts of your robotics to replicate and merge with what I create from him.” He tossed a thumb in Coldstone’s direction. “The only trouble is that magic is what brought you back to this world, so I’m afraid I’ve had to access some of my own.”

Coldfire’s mechanics whirred with an unsettling rhythm, the change in their sound an indication of just how much of her had been altered. Coldstone imagined her trying to move, shifting her position, but being unable to do much else. “Rumplestiltskin,” she said at last. “You intend to use him as your source.”

“Oh, my intentions with him only begin with your ofspring, I assure you,” Sevarious swooned. “After all, when one controls the Dark One, the possibilities are endless.”

“He is his own master,” Coldstone huffed. “You can not control him.”

“That’s what you think,” Sevarius whispered, then turned and walked away.

* * *

Rumple could feel the scales consuming his flesh, they went up his arm now, over his shoulder and partly down his spine. On his left hand the spread was a bit more sporadic, slithering around him rather than traveling a straight line. It reached his ribs and traveled forward, creeping over his chest, replacing whispy hairs with hardened scales. It didn’t hurt, but he knew it was happening, felt every bit of the transformation. His neck and face would be next. He could feel the tickle and pull of it before the change.

Soon he would be whole again, the true, powerful Rumplestiltskin. In an hour, maybe more, he would have all of his magic back to play with, to protect with. It wouldn’t be long before no cage could contain him. Then he could return to Belle, free her from her own prison, bring Gideon to them and ensure that something like this would never happen again. No more weakness, no more whimpering, no cowering. The world would be his again. This world and every other.

“I’ve been thinking,” the Dark One tittered as he perched on the edge of his bed. “A man like yourself, strictly relating to the sciences, might be powerful, but something always keeps their science a step away from magic. I wonder why that could be…”

“Magic is something to be pulled from somewhere else, is it not?” The scientist didn’t look up as he worked at his table, simply continued mixing and measuring, pouring and heating. He never once gave away the results, simply examined them, made notes, and then fiddled with a completely new set of ingredients, setting the original aside. Were they all failures? From his position and through his ignorance, it was impossible for Rumplestiltskin to tell. Soon enough it wouldn’t matter anyway.

“Hm,” he hummed in answer. “Interesting theory.”

“Magic is energy and energy is magic. I simply decided to find the source of the magic and use conductors of a sort to draw it where I wanted it to go, like electricity through wire.”

Rumple thought about this and scanned what he could see of the room, looking for any sort of device or object which might be a conductor, drawing magic from another realm and flooding the room with it. There was nothing obvious, but that didn’t mean it was hidden. The thing could be right in front of him and he wouldn’t even know it. Not without asking.

“So metal, then,” he sighed, sounding as bored as he could muster. “Or a combination of metals.”

“Possibly.”

Inwardly, Rumple groaned. Talking with this man was like having a standoff with himself. They each had an understanding of the other. Getting answers wouldn’t be so easy, but it wouldn’t necessarily be impossible.

“In my realm we wouldn’t be restricted to mere metals. Charms made of any element can be created to contain and release magic at will, even for those who have never wielded it.”

“Is that so?” The scientist seemed utterly disinterested.

Rumple rose, pretending that he needed to stretch his legs. The cloth of the suit felt wrong against his scales. As soon as he worked out the source of this magic and claimed it as his own he was going to turn this annoying suit into the leather his body was used to. Then he would find Belle. He would stride up to her clad in all of his Dark One splendor and woo her as he had at the castle.

“I wonder-”

An explosion enveloped the room, consuming Rumplestiltskin’s words and spitting them out in a ball of flames.

“No!” He hissed into the noise of the room. “I wasn’t ready!”

Chapter Text

The only command Belle followed as the group charged into battle was to allow the Gargoyles and their company to handle the fighting. Two of their own had been captured in the search for Rumple and though Belle certainly sympathized, she had more important things on her mind. The powers of the Dark One could not be left in the hands of a mad scientist. It would mean the end of everything good in the world, the destruction of light everywhere.

“Rumple!” She coughed out into the smoke and falling debris left over from the explosion. Bodies and limbs were everywhere. Arms, wings, and tails punching and lunging, stretching and pulling away. She ducked under some, dodged others, and ran to the table where the scientist’s experiments were clearly ongoing.

Her eyes took everything in at a glance. Nothing magical jumped out at her, no herbs or potion ingredients. There was no book of spells. Everything here was pure science. There were chemicals and raw elements, processed metals and parts of machinery. An uncountable number of beakers and test tubes littered every inch of the usable workspace, but that was the closest she could come to what she knew of magic in her realm.

Then it hit her, somewhere beyond where she stood, the familiar hiss of dissatisfaction, the pacing stride of someone working out their frustration with their feet. Belle turned to face it and her eyes went wide.

“Rumple.”

He was there, still wearing the clothes from their date, but beneath he was not the man from only hours before. The Dark One was pacing that cell, all scales and claws, scraggly teeth and piercing yellow eyes. The kindness was gone, the warmth of his heart replaced with cold cruelty. He strutted back and forth in a frenzy, muttering to himself and gesturing, hissing and snarling like a caged animal.

Belle ran over to the bars that separated them and started to reach between them, but his clawed hand traversed the barrier instead, slapping hers away. “Be careful,” he half sang, leaving off the “dearie” he typically added to commands meant for anyone else. His fingers fluttered in the air. “The whole room is filled with power.” His long, dark nail tapped one of the bars and it sizzled. “Electricity is everywhere.”

“I’ll get you out,” Belle insisted, turning for something that would short out the circuit.

“No, no, no. I’m not finished.”

She spun back to him. “Not finished? Rumple. You’re a prisoner here.”

He tutted at her. “He thinks I’m a prisoner. You can’t hold the Dark One.”

“I can think of a few ways,” Belle huffed, already feeling the frustrations of their old relationship returning. She walked away, unwilling to put up with his nonsense. It was his addiction talking, she knew that. Somehow he had found a way to access his powers and the draw of them was eating him alive. It would all go away once the object of his addiction was removed. He could recover. She just had to find something…

A pipe protruded from the section of wall the explosion had opened. She ran to it, tested it with a brief tap of her finger to check that it wasn’t hot, then yanked at it with all of her might.

“What are you doing?” Behind her, the Dark One’s playful words turned panicked. “No, no, no. I told you. I’m not ready.”

“We’re leaving!” She shouted the words, throwing all of her weight into the pull of her muscles and finally the wall relinquished the pipe. The suddenness of it made her stumble, but she quickly righted herself and lunged forward. “Back up.”

“It isn’t time,” Rumple insisted, refusing to move.

Belle met his eyes and glared so harshly and deeply into them that she actually made him blink. “Back. Up.”

This time he did as he was told, hands fluttering around about his chest and cuffs the way he used to fuss in the castle when he was nervous or uncertain.

Belle ducked under the swing of Goliath’s tail, then dropped the pipe and kicked it so that one end touched the base of one of the cells’ bars. Without allowing herself time to think of the consequences of her next action, she let the toe of her shoe push the rest into place. It made contact with not two, but three of the cell bars and all around them the lights flickered. Static seemed to fill the air, then the room went dark.

An energy weapon fired from somewhere across the room and Belle recognized the silhouette of the Gargoyle nearest to her. “Hudson!” She cried out before the light faded. “Over here. The bars.” She heard the thunder of his purposeful stride, felt the looming presence of his wings stretched out behind her, then heard the screech of bending metal.

“There ye are, lass,” the gargoyle said before the fight took him away again.

Belle felt for the gap he left behind and once she found it, slid through. “Rumple. Come on. I’m getting you out of here.” She reached in the dark, but couldn’t find him. “Rumple. I know you can see me.” She stumbled forward, ran into the corner of what felt like a bed and cursed at the pain that followed.

“No, no, no.” The Dark One half sang at her side. “I’m not going yet. I have to know his secrets. I’m close. So close. Why don’t you flitter off to safety and I’ll meet you there?” She didn’t have to see his hands to know they were gesturing like butterflies in the wind.

“I’m not leaving you,” she barked at him.

Suddenly a hand was around her wrist and she felt herself being pulled to the side, further from the fighting, until she was surrounded by concrete. Pressing her into the corner, Rumple leaned close, providing the third wall of her protective shelter and hissed in her ear. “But I couldn’t save you,” he whispered. “I was weak. Like the coward I used to be. I have to do this. Belle, I could have power again. I could have magic anywhere!”

Belle could feel his body trembling against hers, but didn’t know if it was from fear, excitement, or some result of whatever process had transformed him. She didn’t really care. “I don’t need rescuing,” she spat, regretting the words the moment she spoke them.

The third wall of her shelter curled away from her, slinking back into the darkness. “Weak,” it muttered through the grunts and groans of the battles. “No one loves a weak man. No one loves coward.”

“No. We are not going through this again.” Belle meant the words for herself, as an encouragement to continue to push him. This was his addiction talking, the darkness. It wasn’t the Rumplestiltskin she loved, just a part of him, covered in… well, another part of him that she’d fallen in love with. “I. Love. You.”

She let each word have its own emphasis, drawing them out the way an archer would draw a bow. They flew toward Rumple and she could only hope they landed true. The silence that followed could have just as easily meant they’d been off target completely.

“Rumple,” she tried again, reaching out, stepping forward. Somewhere in the lab more flashes erupted, making him easy to spot for a brief moment. On the bed, hunched in the posture of someone torn by indecision and fear, was the man she’d fallen in love with so long ago and still loved to this day. Slowly she crept to him, reached out and took his hand. When he tried to pull away she persisted, snatching it firmly and tightening her grip so that there was no doubt she would refuse to let him go.

Her fingers found the scaly patches spreading on his skin and caressed it. “How many times have you ordered me to leave you?” She paused for an answer, though she didn’t expect one, then continued. “And every time I came back. Every. One.”

“I’m a difficult man to love,” Rumple told her. “I don’t deserve-”

“Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you!” Belle shouted, clinging to his hand to prove her tone was frustration more than anger. “What do you think you’ve done to me, Rumple? Treated me with respect when no one else would? Accepted my intelligence when everyone else cast it aside? Saw me as capable when everyone else saw me as weak and helpless? If all of that makes you a difficult man to love, then I don’t understand how I could love you either, because I love all of that about you and so much more.”

He tried to shake his head, but she reached up and cupped it in her palm, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “You are a wonderful husband,” she continued, more softly. “And an adoring father. Gideon and I don’t love you because you had power. Baelfire didn’t return to you because of your magic. He came back because of the memories you made that were happy and good.”

Around them the room was quieter, the fighting stopped. Suddenly lights came back on around them, giving Belle an idea. She grasped Rumple’s hand and held it so he could see the scales. “This… This isn’t what makes you my husband or their father. It isn’t what makes you Rumplestiltskin. This is just a darkness that doesn’t want you to let go. It doesn’t define you. All of those other things define you. These scales are just the shell of the beast the real you is forced to live inside of, like one of Xanatos’ flying armor machines.” She gestured at where the others were gathered now, watching, the red Gargoyle suit standing among the real Gargoyles. He’s the same man inside of it as he is outside and he can climb out, just like you can push this away.”

“I couldn’t protect you,” Rumple whimpered, lip quivering. “If I find what he was using to bring magic…”

“Papa.”

Belle blinked at the sound of their son’s voice, glancing around quickly to locate him before she remembered the wires they all wore to help coordinate their attack. She took the small bud from her ear and held it near enough to Rumple’s head that he might hear. “It’s Gideon…”

“We love you, Papa. The Mister Gold you is just perfect. You give us adventures.”

“Son… Oh, Gideon…”

Belle let out a small smile as she listened to them talk to each other across the distance. Her heart ached for Rumple and the true love she shared with him. It was still as deep and wonderful as ever, but his sons were just as close to his heart. Long ago, after their first argument, after being locked away in Regina’s prison, Belle had come to the understanding of their lovers’ fate. One of the things she cherished most about Rumple would always keep her from freeing him as she’d almost managed with their first kiss. His love was pure, but it was so evenly divided, so perfectly portioned to both herself and his sons, that a simple kiss could never free him again.

“All right,” Rumple said, rising to his feet. “Where’s the scientist?” He sounded almost like his true self, though his wild eyes betrayed the addiction he still fought inside.

“Unconscious, but alive,” Xanatos’s mechanical voice emitted from the fighting suit. It whirred as he gestured to the prone form against one of the back walls. “Despite my better judgment.”

“The law will handle him,” Goliath insisted.

Rumple’s eyes narrowed. He strode forward, slipped through the expanded gap between the bars and moved to hover over the scientist. “He knows too much,” he hissed. “Even if he can’t do anything with the knowledge he gained.”

Belle saw his hand clenching, fingers tensing so that they more resembled the talons on the Gargoyles than parts of himself. “Rumple…” She stepped forward, just beyond his cell, but stopped when he turned to look at her, seeing how much his expression had changed.

“Two spells,” he told her softly. “And I promise the second will end all of this.” His eyes flicked to the back of his hand, hovering just above Sevarius’ head. “You can trust me, Belle. Please.”

It didn’t take but the blink of an eye for Belle to realize what he was going to do. Rumple would use his magic to wipe Sevarius’ memory, then destroy everything he had discovered, including whatever magic had allowed him to take this form. The Dark One would revert back to Mister Gold and his powers would be gone again. She nodded once, but stood her ground, hoping to show him she wasn’t afraid. He could not send her away again, she would remain at his side forever, just as she’d promised so long ago.

The Dark One bent over his captor and hissed in the man’s ear before using his magic. The spell was silent and the results invisible, but Belle could see the contortions in the scientist’s face, the sudden slackness that followed. She recognized the signs of a mind reworking itself to fill sudden gaps in a collection of memories. Watching the spell work was like seeing marbles settle in a jar after it had been righted. Or at least it was if you know what to look for.

“Take him,” Rumple snapped before walking away from the slack form. Goliath did, not quite gently, and Rumple shook his head. “You all have to go.”

“Rumple.”

“All of you,” he grunted, shooting a glance at her over his shoulder. “The rest is too dangerous.”

Belle took a breath and nodded, then followed the others to the lab’s newly created door. She let the others go through, then paused to watch as Rumple paced the room, eyes flicking this way and that to take in each corner and study every shadow. He’s looking for the talisman, she thought, assuming it was something of the sort that returned his magic to him. Moving here and there, he collected some things, gathering them on the table. He picked up something round and cradled it in the crook of his arm, then spun on his heal and marched away.

“Go,” he told her, handing over the object. “There’s too much damage here. I want you safe.”

She did as he asked, moving along the corridors, following the same path out that they had taken to get in.

The explosion happened after she’d turned the third corner, making everything go dark. She turned sharply, crying out into the noise behind her. “Rumple!”

A hand caught her arm. She felt the solidness of it, the strength of stone-like claws. Hudson’s, perhaps, maybe Broadway’s. It didn’t matter. She yanked herself free and stumbled to where she knew her husband had been. Two spells, he’d promised. The memory spell and whatever he had just done. How could Rumple have protected himself from what he’d just done? She cried out again and ran, one hand to the wall to keep track of her surroundings, ran full out until she hit something soft and stumbled to the ground, where she let out a grunt of pain.

The object she’d hit did the same.

“Belle,” Rumple coughed. She heard scraping and something dragging, then another faint whisper. “Belle?”

“I’m here,” she told him, pawing at the air until she found the familiar fabric of his suit. She followed it to his shoulder, then down his arm and finally grasped his hand. “What happened? That explosion wasn’t from your magic…”

He tightened his fingers around hers. “I asked you to go because I worried he set a trap for me. A man like that… I know them too well… He wouldn’t share his secrets… wouldn’t leave things to chance. When I magicked away his experiments, something-”

“You set off whatever he had waiting for you.”

Rumple sighed, the kind of release that sent a cascade of guilt off of his shoulders. “You have it?”

She nodded, though she knew he probably couldn’t see her. The grit in the air was too thick for anything else. Carefully, she pushed the metal oval into his arms.

“Good,” he rasped. She felt him shift beside her, heard his breath move farther away, then felt the gentle tug meant to encourage her to stand. “Then we can go.”

Instinctively she guided Rumple’s arm over her shoulders, felt him brace against her for a few strides, then realized he was moving mostly on his own. Ahead of them, the others were calling and she managed to cough out an answer, encouraging them to move on. Then, under the light of an emergency exit, she made Rumple pause.

“What is it?” She nodded down at what he held.

“An egg,” he told her, voice filled with a confused sadness she couldn’t understand. “Or what might be one. I’m not sure.”

She studied it. “It’s metal.”

He nodded. “If he finished his experiments my magic is in there, somewhere…”

Belle looked up into Rumple’s face. It was flesh again, his eyes dark pools of sadness. “Belle, I know I promised to remove it all, but if this is alive…” Tears streamed down his cheeks. “I couldn’t, Belle… I couldn’t leave it there to die.”

“Coldstone and Coldfire,” she whispered. “It’s theirs?” He nodded and she draped her arms over his shoulders, pulling him close, surrounding the cold metal with their bodies, pressing herself as close to him as she dared. “Never apologize for doing what a Savior should do,” she said before she kissed him, then broke the kiss to breathe the three words that always made her heart soar. “I love you.”

He pressed his head to hers, then closed his eyes. “And I love you.”

Chapter Text

“According to the map, we go this way,” Belle insisted, pointing at the fork in the path that cut through the forest of bamboo the Golds were now quite lost in. The air around them was lime green thanks to the brilliant sun filtering down on them through all of the thin leaves. Even the brown earth beneath their feet had a strange tint to it. The combination was very disorienting.

Rumple shook his head and pointed the other way. “I’m certain it was this direction. We passed the boulders and crossed the rope bridge by the waterfall.”

“And then we turned left,” Belle insisted.

“Right,” Rumple said, inserting the direction he was most sure of over the one he knew she would offer, trying to block out the sound of her wrong choice with his correct one.

Belle thrust her hands to her hips and grinned. “Well, I’m glad you finally agree.” Then she turned in the directions she’d pointed and started walking off.

“What?” Rumple stumbled over his own feet trying to catch up with her. “I didn’t agree at all.”

“You said ‘right,’” she teased.

He flung his hand out from his side, wanting to aim it in the general area they were leaving behind, but instead only managed to smack the bamboo that grew too close to the path. “I said we went right, not that you were right.”

She turned to walk backward a few steps and waggled the rolled up map in front of his face. “All you said was ‘right.’”

Behind them, Gideon groaned. “We are never going to get there with the two of you arguing.” He pushed past Rumple, squeezed between his mother and the thick bamboo stalks, then dashed forward as fast as he could go. “I’ll tell you what’s up there in a minute!”

“Gideon!” Both Belle and Rumple called at the same time.

Their son completely ignored them, racing on without a care in the world.

Belle sighed. “Well, at least we can’t get lost from here.” She gestured at the loamy ground, first behind them, then ahead. “With all this growth he can only go one way or the other.”

“You’re certain?”

“He’ll be fine, Rumple,” Belle assured him, slowing her pace so that she could link her arm with his and continue their hike closely joined. “This is a peaceful realm. Besides, if anything happens, he has Hudson’s training to fall back on.”

Rumple snorted. “I don’t know why I agreed to that.”

“You agreed because you have a soft heart when it comes to your sons,” Belle insisted. She turned her head up at him and smiled. “It’s one of the many things I love about you, remember?”

“I do,” he said, pressing his head to hers in the pause between two steps. When he moved away he sighed. “Do you think Owen was right about the egg being empty?”

His question made Belle erupt in joyful laughter. “The Dark One is questioning the magical knowledge of both his wife and the trickster?”

“Maybe I’m questioning the mechanical genius of Lexington,” Rumple huffed.

“Well then don’t let Gideon hear you doing it.”

Their son was quite attached to the slighter Gargoyle of the Manhattan clan. They had been close even when Gideon was a baby, but as time progressed, Rumple wondered if something more complicated might develop between the two. He and Belle both suspected Gideon would find a man to settle down with in time, but Rumple was beginning to secretly wonder if ‘falling for a beast’ was something that might pass on from Belle to their boy.

“You’re worrying,” she pointed out, nudging him.

Rumple shook his head. “Thinking of the future,” he assured her. “Clinging to the hope that my time as someone’s experiment might still bring hope to two so in love.”

“It could mean trouble,” she reminded him.

He shrugged. “Or it could mean everything that is the opposite.”

Belle gazed at him for a moment, then cocked her head to one side. “What about us? See anything in particular?”

He looked down into the blue of her eyes and smiled, then took a long breath and answered with dramatic flair, “Yes. The end of this trail.”

Belle grunted and released his arm with a shove. She tried to outstep him, but managed only three strides before Gideon came barreling down the hill, almost colliding with them.

“I found it!” The words came out in a gasp as he bent to rest his palms on his knees. “The ancient library… It’s… just… over the mountain.”

Rumple blinked. Belle looked back at him, then unrolled the map and scowled. “Mountain?”

Gideon reached out with both hands, took his mother’s in one and his father’s in the other, then tugged them both forward. “Come on, I’ll show you. It isn’t far.”

Feeling like a cart pulled by a horse, Rumple laughed. “Woah, there… Give your mother time to catch her breath.”

Belle looked around, clearly pretending to search for something. “I’m sorry. Did I lose it somewhere?” She moved faster, positioning herself so she was wedged between Gideon and the forest and grinned back over her shoulder. “First one there gets a wish granted…”

And with that, she and Gideon took off, leaving Rumple behind.

“Wishes are dangerous!” He shouted the words at their backs, shaking his head at their nonsense, but then he saw Belle turn, watched her pause, and suddenly they weren’t in this realm any more. They were back in the Enchanted Forest, headed home after tracking down a thief and his stolen wand.

“Aren’t you coming?” She half sang back to him, and then he knew exactly what her wish would be; one of the best, most perfect wishes of all. One he would happily grant her again and again.

“I’m only giving you a head start,” Rumple shouted before charging forward with a growl. Belle yelped and tried to run away, but he caught up to her quickly, scooping her up in his arms and finding her lips with his own. He held her like that for a while, kissing her until they were both out of breath, setting her down only when his arms refused to hold her any more.

“Wow,” she breathed, eyes distant.

“Maybe I still have some magic left after all,” he whispered.

Belle shook her head. “No. I mean. Yes.” He must have begun to look hurt because she quickly shook her head and reached up to guide his face away from hers. “See?”

Through the thinning Bamboo, the sun was creeping toward the horizon, turning the clouds brilliant shades of pink and purple, but at once he knew that wasn’t the view that had snatched his wife’s attention from him.

Rumple took her hand and they both moved to stand at Gideon’s side.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Their son beamed into the distance, eyes transfixed.

Across the valley, built into the side of the mountain, stood the library the Golds had been seeking. It was a monumental thing, all columns and domes, and what looked like stained glass. The sharpness of the details were hidden in the lingering shadows, but the whole of it, even distant as it was, was simply magnificent.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Belle whispered.

“Me either,” Gideon replied.

Rumple simply stared, watching as the building they studied changed before their eyes. One by one, each window flickered to life, fighting the coming evening with its own warm glow. The process was chaotic at first, large and small panes illuminating at such an uneven pace that it was hard to force his eyes to settle on just one. Then, at a blissfully singular pace, a string of colors popped into existence. First pink, then yellow, then green, then blue, red, and finally purple, each creeping along the stairs at an equal distance to wander down the mountain path. It was as if someone unseen were walking along with a flame, touching each one to bring it to life. “Lanterns,” he whispered as another string lit their way, then a third. Eventually the stony climb was bright with a rainbow of painted silk.

“The new year is in a few days,” Belle reminded them.

Pulling his family close, Rumple felt the warmth of their love wash out the chill the past few weeks. “A new year we can celebrate together,” he said, then guided them toward the glow that marked the beginning of their next adventure.