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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Snow White: A broken heart. Rumpelstiltskin: Ah. The most painful of afflictions.(7:15 A.M.)
Smee found a gun in the police cruiser's glove compartment. When he pointed it at the squeaker, he stopped squeaking. He even helped pile brush and branches over the vehicle's rear end to keep it from being spotted in the woods.
During the trek to the old toll bridge—or Troll Bridge, as some scalawag had penned in—the brat continued to do what he was told. But when Smee guided him down the steep bank to the stream, just like a freaking Lost Boy, he tried to scramble away.
So Smee slugged him.
Handcuffing his unconscious captive's hands to his legs had been smooth sailing. But as Smee made to gag him, Henry came awake, thrashing his head side-to-side. "You won't get away with this. I'm a hero, too. Just like my—"
"Not today, swabbie." Smirking, Smee stuffed the boy's own wool scarf in his mouth and fastened it behind his head.
With a mighty heave, he slung the squirming load over his shoulder and lugged him into the wedge where the bank of the stream met the underside of the bridge. Luckily, the space sheltered no trolls. Either they'd been slain by heroes or left behind in the Enchanted Forest or relocated to Storybrooke as tax collectors.
Staggering, Smee dropped Henry beside the bag of fairy dust. As expected, his ball-and-chain tin box was already there. The lid creaked open and out came his mum's melodious voice. "Good work, son. Now it's time to wait."
* * * * *
When Belle heard what Ruby had to say about August—about how he'd retreated to the kitchen to avoid her—she clasped her hands. "He knows something, and it's worse than I thought." She looked to her friend, hoping for an eye roll and a chuckle to show her she was wrong.
Instead, Ruby frowned. Thumbs in the belt loops of her white chinos, she began to pace. "This is ridiculous. Come with me."
Ruby strode down the hallway. Belle walked quickly to keep up. As they passed the stairs, she peered at the second-floor landing. What was the head fairy telling Rumple? If it was as bad as she feared, he'd keep it to himself—letting it fester and burn and eat away at his good intentions. If August told her what he knew, then she could spend her energies on dispelling Rumple's melancholy, not on dredging out the reason for it.
Ruby entered the kitchen first. "You've got to come clean, August."
Belle stopped in the doorway, folding her arms and fixing her gaze on him. "Reul Gorm told you something. Tell me what it is."
His gaze darted from one woman to the other. He coughed and grimaced then sighed. Just as he was opening his mouth, Belle heard a familiar tap, tap, tap.
"Rumple!" Thank goodness, the meeting was over. Time to clean up that sanctimonious fairy's mess.
When Belle turned, Rumple was already down the stairs. He held up a hand—a sign for Please, stay back.
