#ouatauedit

Rumpelstiltskin followed his son’s view but didn’t understand what, or why, the site of August Booth had Gideon so disturbed. Perhaps it had to do more with the unfamiliar young man by Booth’s side. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t recognize him as an original resident of Storybrooke or as one of the Dark Realm residents he and Gideon had recently transitioned into Storybrooke. Perhaps he had come over with Hyde’s curse?

Who was he?

Gideon suddenly sprinted from the diner, following the couple as they turned a corner and disappeared from view.

“Gideon wait!” Belle called after him.

Gideon didn’t stop or respond, and his parents were left in the diner to wonder what was happening to their son.

-,-,-,-,-

“We should have gone with him.” Belle stated nervously as she paced the floor of the pawnshop.

“We have to give him space to deal with his own issues, sweetheart.” Rumple stated calmly, though judging by his fidgeting fingers he was just as nervous as his wife.

“What if it’s one of them, Rumple.” Belle whispered frightfully.

There had been so many children to come in from the dark realm that Storybrooke had to play musical beds to accommodate them all. Many who had adopted the lost boys from Neverland managed to find spaces for a child or two, and the rest were staying at the nuns’ coven, getting proper medical attention, food, and care for the first time in their lives.

Gideon had worked night and day to reassure that they were comfortable, earning the trust of those who had been weary of him for years.

Then there had been the older ones—the Black Fairy’s “favorites” and thus had been sadistically loyal to her even after her death.

It was there loyalty that had Gideon’s parents concerned for his safety. Each time they lied eyes on him, Belle and Rumplestiltskin could see every violent act that they wanted to do to him.

Emma’s solution was to lock them up until they were calm enough to listen to reason.

Two months later, Storybrooke was calm, and Gideon had finally found his place in the world.

Until this afternoon, that is.

“He wouldn’t run to one of them knowing their vendetta towards him,” Rumple reassured her. “And August Booth was with him. I’m sure he wouldn’t let things get out of hand.”

“Pinocchio is not his parent,” Belle sighed with fearful malice. “He won’t protect him.”

Just as a Rumple was about to respond, the shop door opened. The Dark One and his wife held their breath until their son walked in, his movements slow and quiet as he closed the door, his eyes glassy.

“Oh,” Belle gasped, running up and taking her son in her arms a best as she could with their height difference.

“Where have you been?” Rumplestiltskin sighed, eyes running over every inch of his son’s body for injuries.

Gideon lifted his crestfallen eyes to his parents. The sadness in them seemed to seep into his very soul.

“I…followed him.” Gideon said quietly.

“Who, son?” Rumplestiltskin inquired as he and Belle lead Gideon submissively to a cot in the back room.

Gideon fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves, the muscles in his mouth twitching as he tried to concur what he had seen.

“It’s Roderick.” Gideon relayed so quietly Belle had to look to Rumple to mouth what he had said.

“Honey,” Belle said carefully, “you said that he…” she trialed off, not wanting, or needing, to continue.

“I know,” Gideon nodded, the guilt twisting his expression. “But it was him. I know it is. Same eyes, same hair,” the right corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Same smile.” His smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared.

“But?” Rumplestiltskin inquired. There was always a ‘but’ to these kinds of things. Why else would their son look so distraught?

Gideon eyebrows bowed in confusion, his mind not able to connect all the pieces of what he had just seen.

Rumplestiltskin gulped, recognizing the nearly crazed look in his yes. It had been the same one he had the day he, ironically, told him about his failure to protect Roderick. His son had been so traumatized from it, but also inspired to fight the Black Fairy and save the other children from a fate like Roderick’s.

“He’s alive.” Gideon laughed wetly. “Roderick is breathing, and walking, and living.” His gaze lifted to stare at his father’s dusty spinning wheel.