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 think Regina might invite her back out of some misguided desires of her own." A careful glance. "It had little to do with you."

"Sorry." Archie shook his head. "I should've known better."

After all, they'd spent quite a lot of time together recently.

"But you're right: There is a distinct possibility Regina might want to connect with Zelena. They are half-sisters, after all."

"A half-sister who disguised herself as the dead wife of her true love, forcing a separation. Who also, I will remind you, has used the same deception to get pregnant." One could hardly tell if he believed Regina would try to invite her back, somehow, still, seeing it was the "moral thing to do" -- making her more of an idiot than he took her for -- or if she might decide reconciliation was not in the cards after all. In a more permanent sense.

"True," Archie said, "but she's also the only blood family Regina has left regardless of everything else she's done. Regina might want to give her a second chance despite all that because Cora helped ruined both their lives."

"Helped" because Regina and Zelena had both made bad choices without their mother's direct influence. They still could have made better choices once they were no longer under the terrible woman's thumb though it would have been harder than someone who had been raised by good parental figures.

Archie saw a good example of someone who struggled with staying on the right path instead of giving into patterns their awful parents had taught them every time he looked in the mirror.

"All the same, you can imagine why I was not too keen on making this point on the map easier for her to converge on at the same time that I was." He settled to putting away the things that Archie had brought that needed it. "And as far as I know none of this is in danger of happening until she knows."

Not that he was not pleased to have the subject of the burnt remains of the farmhouse somewhat behind them.

Archie nodded. "She might think we're still sightseeing for a while given how we wandered around."

Which had been the whole point.

Burning the farmhouse down...well, Gold knew that it hadn't been the right thing to do even if it had been an understandable thing to do. At this point, trying to bring it up would just lead to an unnecessary fight.

Though he knew he was about to poke the bear with a stick anyway.

"I'm guessing you're trying to figure out what to do next in regards to Zelena, but have you thought about Belle?"

As if he never thinks of her. If he were a snake there would have been venom dripping from every last syllable. "For now I have done all I intend to do," he said icily.

Edited 2023-06-04 12:11 (UTC)

In his head, Archie heard a familiar phrase: Ladies and gentlemen, let's get ready to rumble!

"I understand separating from her for a while, giving both of you space to rethink things, but you just left divorce papers without a word."

Gold shut his eyes and took a calming breath as he turned toward the counter. "Doctor, prior to this marriage I was married once already, and if divorce papers had been an option, then, it would have been less tragic an ending for everyone involved. Holding out hope for something irreconcilably broken only makes the outcome worse." A moment to muster himself, collect his words. And not say more than what has been concluded. "If you ask her yourself, she will tell you that she no longer trusts that I love her. ...And I don't trust her at all anymore. So it needs to end."

"You want to know something else that wasn't around when you first married? Marriage counseling." He raised an eyebrow at him. "You two were so happy together. You made mistakes when Ingrid and her plans threatened that happiness. Belle made mistakes, too: She could have asked that the two of you separate for a while to think about how to move forward, but instead she forced you out of Storybrooke when she was upset and hurt.

"You both damaged each other's trust, but that can be fixed if both of you are willing to try."

"No."

No to the well of pained hope and need that formed in the pit of his stomach. No to that proposal, to that summation of what had happened and every detail it missed. It wasn't the first time she had tried to use the dagger, and it would not have happened if Belle hadn't gone seeking it with intention.

Gold's hands worked objects in the kitchen area with a forceful sense of correction and speed.

"Trying has already taken place, regardless of whether you were consulted for it."

Archie was bound by his professional oath not to reveal anything shared with him during sessions, but anything outside of it was fair game.

So he played his trump card:

"She hasn't signed the papers."

Should that have felt hopeful? Because now he didn't trust that. How it made him feel. The tension rose up in his shoulders, and a hand gripped the counter.

"Then that is a foolish decision on her part."

He hadn't expected Gold to leap at the chance (even if some part of him had hoped), but Archie had needed to see how Gold would react to it.

"Maybe, maybe not. She hasn't come to you but she isn't just ending things. It's clear she's conflicted about everything. There's a chance to fix things. Isn't it worth the attempt at least? Even if things don't work out, it'll give you both proper closure so you can move on to the next stages in your lives."

Too much of this felt like telling him what he wanted to hear. Hadn't those same words run through his head a thousand times on the road? There's a chance to fix things. If you go back and make her listen -- you don't even know what to say yet but that isn't important. Things can be like they were.

And didn't he tell himself similar things back in that village? If he did his work without complaint. If he took care of things. If he didn't nag. Maybe Milah wouldn't come home drunk this time. Maybe she wouldn't look at him like she hated him. Maybe she wouldn't say such awful things to him just to make him go away and pretend he didn't exist. If he just kept trying, she'd remember they loved each other.

"The attempt was already made. Hell, you officiated part of it."

"Yes, I did. I saw firsthand how much you cared for one another. And I can see that you still care for one another and that both of you have been hurt and are reluctant to face one another after everything that was said and done. But I also see that neither one of you has completely given up. You may have left the divorce papers for her to sign, but you haven't contacted her once to verify that your marriage is over with. And it's obvious you're not seeing anyone else. You're in limbo just as much as she is. Why not try?"

"I haven't contacted her because I don't want to see her, and I should think that's been made very clear. I also have little interest in forcing her hand. Why should that be suspect?"

"Then if it's over, look her in the eye and tell her. Make it final so she can close the book on that chapter in her life and sign the papers."

The amount of effort that came of just -- keeping oneself buttoned up. Knowing that every reaction, anything so much as a twitch would be scrutinized. It made him itch.

"She already made it final. I'm not the one that threw her out."

Archie sighed and shook his head. He'd gotten pretty much the same reaction from Belle. At this point, he'd tried. It was all on them now, one way or the other.

"Okay."

"Did she send you?" No, he didn't actually want the answer to that. It didn't matter. Just as likely as not, she certainly didn't send Archie after him over the town line, after all. "...Unless I say otherwise I do not care if you tell her about our discussion today."

Which was about as sure as anything else that he had not been allowing him to say any more than what he would be okay with anyone else knowing.

He almost said that he didn't want to hear about any talking they were doing, however. Did it need to be said? Did he want it to be?

"No," Archie told him honestly. "I came because I was worried about both of you, but you're both adults. How you two move forward with your lives is your business. Setting boundaries is normal and usually healthy, but based on what I see, the boundaries you two are setting up are having adverse effects on both of you." He gave a self-deprecating roll of the shoulders. "I'm not good at standing by and watching others hurt themselves. Just ask Mary Margaret when I saw her struggling with baby Neal."

Gold still hadn't turned to look at him but the reaction was immediate and visible when Archie said that name. A movement in his head and his hands like someone catching themselves at the last moment. Something sharp stuck in his craw that wasn't the sort of thing you weren't supposed to complain about.

The sort of thing that shouldn't affect you when you're fine.

"No. ...No I suppose you never were."

He saw that, and it set off alarm bells since he didn't know what he'd said or done that had garnered that reaction.

"Gold?" His brow furrowed with concern. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No." He finally put away a glass he had wiped down several times by now. But now he could get the subject off of him. "You really ought to get a better handle on that impulse of yours. By now you know people will take advantage."

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