There wasn't much in the way of further discussion as they made their way north again, gradually. Gold seemed to relax more once he felt confident they were not being followed, and but for a few oddities, the trip was uneventful. In that time, he kept himself impeccably groomed and was far more irritable anytime there was a delay in that. He maintained his clothing carefully, and when left to his own devices he would sink into whatever work he could do in order to fill the time with something other than conversation.
It also wouldn't have been missed some of the more concerning tics. The doctor might have come in on him closing his phone on more than one occasion -- never talking on it. At best dialing and listening and fast to stop as soon as he knew he had an audience. Once or twice, the man disappeared into a rest stop restroom for a little too long, and the doctor caught him nursing bleeding knuckles, and dents in some of the apparatus inside.
He still did not seem to believe that Archie was really just taking him back until they crossed the town line. With Sheriff Swan prepared with a lecture and warning, of course, with her pet idiot lurking in the background to try to look intimidating. Once the Dark One knew they would be expected he had very specific demands. Namely that he would listen to her terms if and only if she brought him the dagger. (And if she bothered with a false one or any tricks she might as well not allow him over the town line at all.)
Belle was not to be there. If she were for any reason, he would go back over the town line and stay there until assured she had gone.
And the people of Storybrooke did have terms. Half of which he ignored. He made his own very clear: If they had questions regarding the Sorcerer's Hat, he didn't care to hear them. The subject, as far as he was concerned, had been closed. His shop would be locked and warded and no one was permitted to enter. Anyone who attempted would do so at their own risk. He wished to claim a few belongings from the house, but his wife was free to remain there if she wished -- he would not. In fact, he blew through when the time came so suddenly that no one was sure when it had happened. A few personal mementos were gone, but three notable things stayed in his wake: 1) a certain chipped teacup, 2) his wedding ring, and 3) divorce papers.
No one was to bother him. He didn't care what mess they were presently cleaning up. Whatever knowledge they lacked that they hoped to glean from him, consider that door closed. He had no deals to offer and would be making none. He will pay the same legal tender everyone else pays for basic services. Beyond that, if he was seen in town: no, he wasn't.
Most were uncertain where the Dark One had vanished to, but those in the know were already aware of the cabin out in the woods, and it was a fair guess that he had chosen that as his place to haunt.
The farmhouse also mysteriously caught fire a few nights after his return. Much of the property had been destroyed by the time anyone took notice.
Back in Storybrooke
It also wouldn't have been missed some of the more concerning tics. The doctor might have come in on him closing his phone on more than one occasion -- never talking on it. At best dialing and listening and fast to stop as soon as he knew he had an audience. Once or twice, the man disappeared into a rest stop restroom for a little too long, and the doctor caught him nursing bleeding knuckles, and dents in some of the apparatus inside.
He still did not seem to believe that Archie was really just taking him back until they crossed the town line. With Sheriff Swan prepared with a lecture and warning, of course, with her pet idiot lurking in the background to try to look intimidating. Once the Dark One knew they would be expected he had very specific demands. Namely that he would listen to her terms if and only if she brought him the dagger. (And if she bothered with a false one or any tricks she might as well not allow him over the town line at all.)
Belle was not to be there. If she were for any reason, he would go back over the town line and stay there until assured she had gone.
And the people of Storybrooke did have terms. Half of which he ignored. He made his own very clear: If they had questions regarding the Sorcerer's Hat, he didn't care to hear them. The subject, as far as he was concerned, had been closed. His shop would be locked and warded and no one was permitted to enter. Anyone who attempted would do so at their own risk. He wished to claim a few belongings from the house, but his wife was free to remain there if she wished -- he would not. In fact, he blew through when the time came so suddenly that no one was sure when it had happened. A few personal mementos were gone, but three notable things stayed in his wake: 1) a certain chipped teacup, 2) his wedding ring, and 3) divorce papers.
No one was to bother him. He didn't care what mess they were presently cleaning up. Whatever knowledge they lacked that they hoped to glean from him, consider that door closed. He had no deals to offer and would be making none. He will pay the same legal tender everyone else pays for basic services. Beyond that, if he was seen in town: no, he wasn't.
Most were uncertain where the Dark One had vanished to, but those in the know were already aware of the cabin out in the woods, and it was a fair guess that he had chosen that as his place to haunt.
The farmhouse also mysteriously caught fire a few nights after his return. Much of the property had been destroyed by the time anyone took notice.