In Storybrooke, Mr. Gold strives to be the man Bae used to love--until Belle is kidnapped to Neverland. If he resumes his Dark One powers to save her, can he control them? In the Enchanted Forest, Emma battles ogres, zombies and her ex to get back h...
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Belle to the Dark One (Rumplestiltskin/Mr. Gold): I think you're not as dark as you want people to think. (Lacey)
Mr. Gold closed the door to Belle's bathroom behind him. Then he turned on the shower. Under cover of the whooshing water, he banged his head against the mirror.
Fool, fool, fool. Why had he claimed a role in Peter Pan's story as Hook's crocodile? Why had he sent Belle's inquisitive mind down that path—so you're the one who took his hand... so you're the reason he's known as Hook... so before his name was something else altogether... He'd barely made an excuse to duck out before she could voice the next logical conclusions—Hook's real name is Killian Jones... You found out what he did with your wife... That's why you cut off his hand... He killed her...
When his darling Belle reached that inevitable assumption, he'd be forced to answer with the truth: No, my dear. I did.
"Rumple," Belle called out from the bedroom, "you're taking a shower? Now?"
Gripping the edge of the pedestal sink, Mr. Gold forced himself to smile. If he didn't, she'd hear it in his voice. "Yes, Sweetheart. We need to hurry if we're going to make August's party."
"The party? Really? You're still planning on going?"
"I know it's late, but I promised." Mr. Gold stared at his reflection. "And I cannot break a promise." Even my promise to never lie to you, even if keeping that promise will tear us apart.
* * * * *
Reveling in the brisk night air gusting through her hair, Emma was tickled to discover that flying with the help of fairy dust was like riding a bicycle. Now that she'd gotten the hang of it, she could do it again. Even so, Neal held tight to her hand—just in case. As they soared over the grove of swamp cypresses, she squeezed his fingers. I don't mind at all.
Ahead of them, Tinker Bell's green twinkle crested the last of the trees and dipped out of view. They sailed after her then looped around the clearing. Neal hadn't been exaggerating about the fairy's fire power. Felled zombies lay everywhere. The ones he hadn't dismembered with his blade Tink had finished off by blasting their heads into ashes.
Emma grinned in relief. She scanned the area, eager to congratulate the itsy-bitsy fairy. Then she caught sight of her hovering over a patch of sand, blinking on and off like a distress beacon. Beneath her lay four little zombies. Gliding nearer, Emma could see their heads looked disturbingly whole.
What's wrong with that ditzy flutterbug? Why didn't she finish the job? Emma didn't know how long it took for an intact cadaver to reanimate, and she didn't want to find out—not when she'd left her lady sword dangling from a branch in the lookout tree.
When they drew close enough to make out the zombies' faces by the fairy's flickering glow, Neal gasped and let go of Emma's hand. He dropped through the air so fast that his landing was a stumble. Then he fell to his knees.
