amicustenebris | PSL - For Archie, Set After 4a

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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.

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"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.)

Well, at least Gold wasn't going to argue this point.

"What would you like?"

It was quiet long enough to be nearly tempting to think he had hung up. No part of this was comfortable.

"...I don't know." It felt less rude than 'nothing.'

"I'll get you a basic ham and cheese. If you don't like that, we can swap.

"See you soon."

Archie hung up and headed towards the deli with a sigh, reaching up to rub out the tension in his neck. Honestly, he probably could've stayed in that bar until closing, walked around the whole city, and still not be ready for going back to face Gold, but he couldn't just let the man starve. Besides, Pongo would never forgive him if he just meandered off.

Gold let himself out of bed for a few minutes, knowing he would have some to himself still, and he excused himself to the bathroom to at last wash his face and shave. He did not emerge again until he was satisfied that he had managed this and some of the nerves finally left his body.

Settling back down again, he turned on the television not so much for himself but to give Pongo some light background noise, and he mostly ignored it while he rested his eyes.

He might have begun to doze a little after that point, really only beginning to stir when the dog did, once an approach was sensed. There was no reason to tense up when the doorhandle moved, as Pongo did not show any alarm. But he did his best to somberly shake any sleepiness from his eyes.

In truth, he hadn't done very much resting in the hospital. Once he had one undue visitor he did not trust any other that came into the room, and nurses had a tendency to appear at all hours. But he could hardly hide the slow blink or ignore the rumble of his own stomach.

Pongo watched the soap opera playing out onscreen, huffing to himself. As if he didn't have enough soap opera interactions to watch in real life.

His head lifted up as the doorhandle moved, sniffing the air and wagging his tail. He glanced at Gold before jumping down, trotting over to the door as Archie entered.

"Hey, boy. Thanks for keeping an eye on things," Archie said quietly.

The door shut behind him, automatically locking, as he set the bag of sandwiches down. He glanced at Gold as the other man came around.

"Sorry I woke you up."

"Wasn't sleeping."

Gold sat up carefully. There was no hiding any laborious movement. But if he let himself sleep now, even with need for rest he would be awake at odd hours. Best not to test himself.

"...Thank you. By the way. I haven't said that since this began. I don't fully understand every part of it. But I would be a fool to suggest it is unneeded."

There was a momentary, very surprised pause at the gratitude. For a brief moment, he wondered if perhaps Gold had some form of mindreading ability and had "heard" those raging malicious thoughts from earlier.

Regardless, perhaps he should see about how to learn techniques to keep his thoughts under tighter control. It was Storybrooke. There could be people walking around with that power, and the least he could do was give them a brief respite.

He softly smiled. "You're welcome. There's the ham and cheese sandwich in there with some spinach, lettuce, and tomato. The other's a turkey club if you'd rather have that. The little containers have ranch and mustard since I didn't want the bread to get soggy while I walked back."

He picked up Pongo's leash, the Dalmatian obediently standing still while he put it on.

"I'll just take him for a short walk right now. Shouldn't be longer than fifteen minutes."

"It should be more than fine," he said when the doctor suggested he could trade out his food if he did not care for it.

The cursed Mister Gold had been given to preferring finer things to a degree, but most of his own food he made himself. Sandwiches were hardly outside of his realm of knowledge, but there was something about him that had been too "good" for some simple things. Which in itself was rich, as he had a very strange fashion sense that felt very nouvre-rich-meets-country-bumpkin, forever trapped in an era of the 80s were country style and music was far more mainstream. If people around town had been paying attention and looking for clues, the sudden disappearance of bolo ties and gingham from his wardrobe would have been a dead giveaway that the Dark One had awakened.

Not to mention the introduction of color.

Rumpelstiltskin himself liked finer things but did not turn his nose up at the simple; he knew where he came from -- he just rarely indulged save for when Belle wanted to try things.

By the time Archie returned with Pongo, he had finished half his sandwich, and was in the process of wrapping it and tucking the rest away with the small refrigerator that was part of the suite.

Archie released Pongo from the leash who immediately went to sit next to his own bowl, giving a very pointed look at the human he lived with.

It made Archie laugh. "Okay, okay, I get it. I'm sorry."

He glanced at Gold tucking away the other half of the sandwich. "Not hungry enough to finish it yet?"

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