amicustenebris | PSL - For Archie, Set After 4a

Entry tags:

PSL - For Archie, Set After 4a

With a kind of numbness that he hadn't felt since he cast Belle out of his castle and destroyed half his collection, Rumpelstiltskin made his way to civilization the very same night he was sent away. Once he hit the interstate it was not long before someone pulled over to offer help to the hobbling man, who looked like he'd wandered from a wreck. The stranger said they'd seen an abandoned car down the way a bit and offered to get him into town to call a tow truck.

He took advantage of his good fortune and was quickly able to access food, an ATM, a cane, and finally a place to collapse and eventually rent a car the following morning. He had thoughts of what he would have to do to figure out a way back over the town line. He understood the magic at work there, knew he could only go back in if summoned back in. But already the scheming began. Belle didn't understand his motivations, and he'd been incapable of correctly explaining. That was all there was to it. Part of him believed if he could say it right, if he could make sense of it all himself -- if he could just convince her that all she'd seen never meant he didn't love her? Then he could fix everything. Then he could be home with his wife, able to visit his son, able to walk and use magic.

He tried to call her from the phone in the motel. No answer. He tried a few times. There was an answer once. He couldn't speak.

Gold haunted that little hamlet outside of Ogunquit for a few days, with limited access to the internet or contact, just hoping he'd find some loophole that'd let him back in, afraid to wander out too far lest he lose his chance.

As far as he knew, Belle never caught on that he was calling. If she did, then she was patient. She stayed on the line longer than she needed. Spoke, and waited. Spoke. Then said goodbye. He couldn't work out why he could never say anything back, or even beg forgiveness. He kept doing it, knowing he couldn't stop himself crying afterward, knowing it was going to hurt every time, because he'd gotten so used to hearing her in the morning when she woke. And now when he called just to hear her it came with apprehension, certainty he'd hear that litany of accusations all over again, but he needed to. Maybe if he did speak, if he did let her know it was him, and he allowed it to happen, she might see he was sincere. She would forgive him. Remember she loved him. He would hand her the dagger and be her slave, be everything Zelena wanted him to be for her if that was what it took.

But he couldn't even bring himself to do that. It took him days to figure out why. That was when he headed south.

His rental car died just inside of Vermont. There were questions about his license. He switched to travel by bus from there -- crowded (good that he was traveling light), slow as sin -- he saw far more of the state than he really ever cared to. It felt ridiculously long for where he was headed, given how short a trip it had been by plane, but he didn't know if he could handle flying again. Not alone.

In Manhattan, the first place that he tried was Neal's old apartment, of course, and he did not expect to find it occupied -- by the Queen's married beau and his family, no less. They offered to leave it to him, which he declined. After a cursory search of the place, he found one or two familiar baubles, things his son held onto from his childhood all these years, somehow, things from their world, and he pocketed those, feeling an uncomfortable tightness that told him to get away, and he left as quickly as his legs could carry him.

Marion seemed especially keen to convince him to stay, at least until he found better accommodations.

He didn't trust it. He got away.

Crossing out into the evening air, he felt a rush of pent emotion and memory. Unkind words said in this very place. Hook's attack and his near death.

Then his actual death.

Then Neal's.

He went numb.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Gold did at last afford the pooch some attention. Almost testing, but he could definitely feel him properly again. "Whether it's humans on the linens or dogs they have to wash them regardless."

City noise drew his attention to the window.

"Henry was absolutely dead set on doing every little thing when we came down here." Of course, anxious about seeing his son again and potentially losing his memories if a good strong gale caught that scarf had stopped Gold from being more than distantly accommodating.

But then he didn't know the boy was his grandson yet.

Pongo's tail thumped the bed contentedly. Dalmatian fur tended to be rather coarse save when they were puppies, but most people didn't seem to mind it with Pongo.

"That doesn't surprise me. Until he went to meet Emma, he'd never left Storybrooke," Archie pointed out. "Of course he'd want to try every little thing. A whole world beyond the town line. All of us had Cursed memories, but Henry had to grow up in a small town where time had essentially stopped for everyone but him."

Which explained why he'd believed so deeply in the Curse when everyone else didn't: He could clearly see the effects in classmates becoming more and more distant former classmates as they repeated the same year of schooling and summer vacation endlessly while he alone moved on. Ashley Boyd -- Cinderella -- had been pregnant for twenty-eight years, and no other pregnancies had occurred, not even accidentally due to miserable people trying to find some solace wherever they thought they could. Henry was a smart kid. Once he was old enough to start noticing things, the evidence of the Curse had been everywhere but he hadn't been able to make sense of it until Mary Margaret had given him the book.

Edited 2023-05-20 20:15 (UTC)

He wasn't wrong, and Gold was sure there had to be some residual guilt on the Doctor's part, just because while it was all going on, he was being paid to essentially convince Henry that he was insane. The Dark One had little reason to reveal himself then; the notion that he had been awake since Emma Swann said her name in front of him had to be kept secret.

"Honestly, I wish I had paid more attention when he was here," he admitted. "He was very excited about pizza and hot dogs."

Residual guilt? One of the demons that haunted his nightmares was his guilt over doing just that to poor Henry. Even when he hadn't believed in the Curse, he'd felt horrible for what he'd done on Regina's behalf all because he was too much of a coward to stand up for what was right.

Honestly, he hoped that when he fell asleep that he full-on crashed. True, the two were in separate beds, but Archie felt very self-conscious about how sometimes Pongo would have to wake him up from the nightmares of everything he'd done, everything that had happened to him, and so on. Having Gold see him clinging to Pongo would be incredibly awkward.

"Well, maybe someday you all can come back to visit so he can see the big city," Archie assured him. "You won't have to worry about losing your memories, after all." He chuckled. "Besides, if it's a family trip, you'll still have a way back. I doubt Regina or Emma would forget the scroll so everyone could go home when they'd had enough of NYC."

"...You think that is how they'll think of me, when I go back?"

The question comes out soft, a little surprised and skeptical.

"Immediately, when you go back? Probably not," Archie said. "But as time goes on and things get sorted out, I could see it potentially happening. It won't be a fast process, but it's not impossible."

Well, it suggested he had something, didn't he? If nothing else was going to be recouped, he had his little patch of land. He had his magic. His son's grave. And his grandchild.

And Belle?

Gold frowned.

"I suppose someone should feel optimistic about that."

"Storybrooke's a small place, Gold. You'd run into them sooner or later even if you made the decision to just stick to your magic. Why not try even if it's only to make it easier on yourself when that happens?"

"You have a very ... rose-colored view of how this all pans out."

Because now he was catastrophizing in his head. He would never find the sorcerer's hat again. And at least one person who did not want him in Storybrooke knows where the dagger is. Plus one person dead set on getting back in there who might stop at nothing to find it.

"I know Henry quite well despite..." He shook his head. "If no one else, I think Henry would want to have you back because there's been so much loss in his family. After all, you didn't just lose a son: He lost a father he barely had time to get to know.

"And the main thing Emma and Regina can agree on is they love Henry more than anything else in the world. Even if they're not wholly on board with the idea, the fact Emma gave me the scroll after I told her what I was planning to do means she's willing to give you that second chance to be a part of their family."

"And with what caveats? That's the question."

Because he could see them trying to contain what elements they felt obligated to allow. How many eyes would he have to tolerate being on him?

All of it felt constraining now in a way it hadn't before. It was why the hat had been necessary to begin with.

"Dark Ones probably never respond well to being caged."

"I'm not a mindreader or a seer. Based on past behavior and what I know about current events, I can confidently say at least some people are willing to give you a chance. I can't tell you what specific lines they'll set up because you did break their trust and you'll have to earn it back on their terms, not yours."

He took a deep breath. Even without his powers, Gold still had a lot of power that Archie didn't. The second they crossed the town line, Gold wouldn't need him anymore and could freely retaliate against anything he said to him.

But, then again, he'd also pushed back against Regina when he'd had everything to lose under the Curse. True, it'd taken him far too long to do so, but it was a start. He needed to keep going.

"And to be very, very honest with you, if you don't at least listen to that deal, you will be the biggest idiot in the history of the Enchanted Forest."

Gold was not an un-vengeful person, but thankfully for Archie, he wasn't the sort to exercise that over name-calling and simple argument -- especially one he implicitly agreed to take part in. His face darkened.

"There is only one person back there that I ever asked to trust me. The rest of you are foolish for assuming anything beyond that."

"Trust isn't always something you ask for. Sometimes your actions with others can spark a willingness for them to trust you. Maybe it was foolish for them to do that, but you did earn their trust. None of you knew that you were actually blood family through Henry when that started, so it was all you as a person.

"You're being offered a second chance. I don't understand why you wouldn't want to take it even if it did mean you had to make a few sacrifices to prove you're earnest in wanting to join that family. Not the Dark One, not the past Dark Ones, you."

"And what good did that trust do me in the end?" he demanded.

The demand was the equivalent of Gold slamming his palm down on a big red button labeled "DO NOT PRESS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES" as all of Archie's personal issues slammed into him at once on top of all the other stress he'd been going through leading up to this moment.

Never in his life had he ever wanted to scream at someone, potentially even choke them. Archie would have sold his soul a dozen times over for just a chance to be part of a family, made any level of sacrifices to have someone know his worst traits and care about him in spite of that but also want to help make him better. Gold was being offered everything Archie could've possibly wanted and refused to grab that chance with both hands.

Why did everyone else get a chance at a real happy ending and he always had to be the one to put them back together when they fucked up their own lives yet never receive even a fraction of those blessings, much less a "thank you"?! What was so wrong with Jiminy and Archie that they didn't deserve what people who murdered without remorse got to have despite doing everything he could to make up for his past mistakes?!

The room was far too small for this. There was nowhere to retreat to and calm down the surge of rage and pain. His emotions were overwhelming his ability to be a professional and right now they didn't need him flying off the handle with a potential threat waiting in the wings.

With jerky movements and blinking rapidly against the burning in his eyes, Archie stood up. "I'm going for a walk. Pongo, you want to come with me or do you want to keep an eye on the room for now?"

The Dalmatian looked between the two humans, torn on what to do. Both men were in pain, but there was nothing he could really do for either. After a moment of thought, he sat up on the bed but didn't hop down. If Archie needed to go somewhere dogs weren't allowed, it'd be best if he stayed here to make sure Marian didn't show up.

Archie nodded in understanding before walking over to the in-room safe and shoving the scroll inside. He changed the code, keeping his body between the display and Gold so only he knew the combination. He didn't think Gold would take the scroll and leave him and Pongo out here with no way home, but he didn't want the damn thing on him in case Marian chose to visit him instead.

"I'll see about getting a second key from the front desk when I come back."

Gold didn't fully relax once he was gone. Left to stew in a number of feelings he had not really tried to put much thought or order to, he was more angry at himself for his outburst than anything else. But he did make himself lie down, trusting at least that the dog would be a reliable alarm if someone came in that was not meant to.

If he had managed to sleep, it would have been an angry nap, chasing every thing he felt he should have said instead, or might have had Archie not excused himself. But soon there was a nose nudging one of the hands on his chest and he eventually relented and, grumbling nonsense, slid his fingers behind Pongo's ears.

Archie kept cursory track of where he was going as he walked, aiming to put as much distance as he could between himself and the hotel room. He mentally berated himself for his behavior, his thoughts, just everything. If Gold managed to get that safe open to get the scroll and take Pongo back to Storybrooke just to spite him, honestly Archie couldn't say he'd blame him.

Fairies, his parents were right: He was useless.

The nice thing about Manhattan was that it wasn't Storybrooke. There was no one to see Archie as he sat down in a corner booth in a bar and decided to nurse a beer for a while as he mentally kicked himself over and over.

Gold felt his fingers dialing a familiar number before he even opened his eyes. He didn't speak, didn't intend to, but it went straight to voicemail. A short message. A beep. He hung up.

When enough time passed, he found the doctor's number and called.

He didn't leave with the dog or the scroll. Whatever other reasons he had, it wasn't hard to imagine maybe? Despite his anger. Archie hadn't wanted Gold to think he might not come back.

Archie wasn't sure how long he'd been here, staring into the glass, but he wasn't drunk. Honestly, the waitress had tried to make him laugh by calling him the only depressed person to sit down in a bar and not immediately attempt to drink himself stupid.

On the first ring, Archie pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered without checking the caller ID. "Hello?"

Edited 2023-05-21 20:44 (UTC)

"So you are still alive." Well. At least he answered. "This is awkward." Yes, Gold had a phone. He very rarely actually used it for talking. "The other option was having the dog find you. Which would have been more awkward. Especially if you had died."

Archie gave a snort. "Hope that's not too disappointing." He ran his finger around the rim of the glass. "I was going to say it after I got back, but I'm sorry I just walked out like that. I was losing my temper and that wasn't helping the situation." He looked at his watch. "Anyway I'll stop and grab something for dinner and then take Pongo out once I'm back. He's probably starting to get uncomfortable. Any preferences on dinner?"

Gold rubbed a temple with his free hand. "...What, as opposed to staying around to argue? You said you were stepping out, that was enough."

He glanced at the dog, who had been mostly docile but had definitely lifted his head as soon as a voice came through on the phone. Whether the thump-thump of his tail was audible through the receiver, he had no idea.

"...None to speak of. ...Actually. Not burgers."

"It was still pretty rude."

He pinned his phone between his shoulder and his cheek as he pulled out his wallet to pay his tab and leave a tip for the waitress. Grabbing the phone again, he picked up the glass with his free hand and finished off the last swallow of his beer.

"I saw a deli not too far from where I am. That sound all right?"

"Perfectly fine." He was half tempted to say he didn't need anything. He was so accustomed to not needing anything. (The nurses loved that.)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject