Amelia was not scared.

She had stopped being scared years ago. On a ship sailing at night, surrounded by salt, and thunder and lightning, where a last breath was taken and it wasn’t hers.

Amelia was not scared.

But as she stood in the pier, watching a whirlpool appear in the middle of the sea, catapulting the last remaining of her family in a faraway land, Amelia was worried. Worried that she had just seen her brother—for the last time.

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A sob tried to claw its way out of her, but she managed to hide it with a cough. She straightened herself and took a deep breath. She couldn’t do this. Not now, she reminded herself. Not when there was a frightened girl who made a deal with the devil—who’s been pregnant for the past 28 years, her brain supplied unhelpfully—and who was now in danger.

So, Amy did what she did best.

She shut down her mind.

It was almost like she’d willed a curtain to fall on the deranged stage that was her mind, completely blocking every memory that threatened to make an appearance at the sound of his voice.

“Father Anderson?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Of course the son of a bitch would send her to her own her brother, when said brother didn’t even know who she was, or even who he truly was.

“Yes. What can I do for you, Miss…”

And it was easy—so easy—to say her name, her real name. “Amelia.”

He nodded, smiling. “What can I do for you?”

There were about a million different things she could’ve said, like how he should apologize for breaking their mother’s favorite vase and then blaming her, but that was probably not the answer he was waiting for, so instead, she told him about the extremely scared—and extremely pregnant—girl who’d assaulted Mr. Gold and run away with something of his.

Though it was clear he wanted to help, it was obvious he didn’t know anything about the situation. So, Amy did what a normal person would’ve done—if this had been a normal situation. She thanked him for his cooperation and turned around to leave, ready to hunt down and kill Rumple, when he placed his hand on her elbow, stopping her.

There was a puzzled expression on his face, almost as if he couldn’t quite understand why he had done that. “Forgive me,” he said, taking a small step back. His eyes searched her face for something. “Have we met before?”

Amy let out a shaking breath, her mind—for once—quiet. “No, I don’t think so,” she said, forcing a smile on her face. “I’ve only recently moved here.”

“Oh,” he seemed even more confused. “It’s just…” It looked as if he was searching for the right words, so Amelia waited in silence, her heart trying to escape from its place. In the end, he shook his head, muttering something under his breath. “Never mind, forgive me for wasting your time,” he said finally.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and left.

Amelia didn’t know whether to be disappointed or content. Of course, she knew that the chances of him actually remembering her were minimal to non existent; Regina’s curse made sure of that. But, if she were honest with herself, there was part of her—a small, tiny, minuscule part of her—that maybe wanted him to remember.

Maybe she wanted her son of a bitch brother back.

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“You can’t make her double-cross Gold. No one’s ever broken a deal with him,” Henry said to Emma. After their visit to Ashley’s deadbeat ex, they’d come to pick Amy up and they were on the way to Granny’s to—once more—question Ruby about the pregnant woman’s whereabouts.

“Happy to be the first,” Emma said, at the same time Amy muttered from the backseat, “Like I care about his deals.”

“If Ashley wants to have this baby, she should have it,” her friend continued. “Anyone who wants to be a mother, should damn well be allowed to be one.”

There was a beat of silence. Amy had a feeling Emma wasn’t just talking about the younger woman, and based on Henry’s look, he thought the same.

Soon, they’d parked in front of Granny’s and they went in, immediately going to Ruby. She looked up at the sound of the bell and greeted Amy with a smile, but her expression soon hardened when she saw how Emma was looking at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me she sold the baby?”

“Because I didn’t think it was important.”

“Really?” Emma scoffed. “Considering that’s why she’s running away?”

“Look, Ashley’s my friend. I don’t like the idea of people judging her.”

“Ruby, we’re not judging her,” Amy said.

“But everyone else is,” the other woman responded before bringing an order to a table.

She sighed, turning to face her friend, only to come face to face with Emma, who was holding some sort of charm in her hand. It was a small, red, glass wolf. It didn’t take long for her to guess who it belonged to. Her friend looked out of the window, searching for something.

“Ruby,” Emma called out. “Where’s your car?”

Ruby didn’t respond and Emma scoffed.

“What? What’s going on?” Amy asked her, but her friend continued speaking to Ruby.

“You didn’t send me to Sean to find her, you sent me there to give her a head start.”

Oh, that’s what was going on.

“Look, I’m only trying to help her.”

“Yeah, so am I,” Emma said. Lowering her voice, she continued, “Ashley’s in more trouble than you know, Ruby. Where is she? Don’t make her deal with Gold without me.”

That seemed to get through Ruby, who glanced at Henry with a wary look on her face. “I can’t talk in front of him. He’s the mayor’s kid.”

“Fair enough,” Amy muttered.

“Hey, I’m on your side,” Henry protested.

But Ruby remained silent.

Emma shared a look with Amy before lowering herself down to face the kid. “Henry, I need to find this woman, and in order to do that, I need you to go home, okay? So please, listen to me, seriously. She’s not gonna tell me anything if you’re around.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“See you around, kid.”

“Bye, Amy.”

As Henry left Granny’s, the two women turned around to face Ruby.

She sighed. “She left town. Said she was gonna try Boston. Thought she could disappear there.”

“How long ago did she leave?”

“About a half an hour.”

That was all they needed to know before they quickly made their way to their car.

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Two hours later and Amy, Emma, and a very disobedient Henry, had found Ashley on the side of the road out of town, very pregnant and very ready to give birth, as they took her to the hospital.

Figures she’d want give birth as quickly as possible, she’d been pregnant for 28 years.

Her friend was talking with the kid, while Amy was getting a coffee from the vending machine at the hospital waiting room, when the nurse arrived to tell them the good news of Ashley’s birth. “ Ms. Swan, Ms. Jones, the baby is a healthy six-pound girl, and the mother is doing fine.”

The two women shared a smile, happy that both mother and baby were okay. But good things didn’t last long, it seemed.

“What lovely news,” Rumple said. She hated how easily he seemed to sneak up on her every time. “Excellent work, Ms. Swan. Thank you for bringing me my merchandise.”

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“Why me?”

His laugh echoed around the old castle. “Why not you, dearie?” he asked.

She didn’t respond, instead letting her gaze roam around the old, dusty room they were in. One thing her father had taught her was to always wait for others to come to her, to never be the one to ask for anything. To never seem desperate for anything—least of all knowledge. People could use that against her.

And so she waited for him to reveal his intentions, the true reason behind his offer.

His smirk grew, knowing all too well the game she was playing. She would never give him much more than a passive glance, not unless he’d put all his cards on the table. She was too smart for that.

He summoned a contract on the table that separated them, and a quill dipped in ink, already so sure of his victory. “This,” he gestured at the long piece of parchment in front of him, “says all you need to know about this occupation.” He let out a shriek of laughter, unable to contain his giddiness. Oh, the Fates were smiling down at him, they must have been. How else could all of this be explained? “You’re welcome to look through it,” he said. “Oh, and, be sure to read attentively the paragraph detailing your wage; wouldn’t want any miscalculations there, would we?”

They sat there in silence for quite some time, as she closely examined the yellowed parchment, reading several passages again and again, making sure she didn’t miss anything.

Several moments passed between her finishing examining the contract and her—finally—picking up the quill. He squirmed excitedly on his seat, already planning her first mission. Oh, this was perfect.

She snapped the quill in half, its pieces falling to the ground as she settled more comfortably into her chair. Her gaze was fixated on him, an unyielding look in her eyes.

The smile dropped from his face. “I don’t…“ he faltered. “I don’t understand.”

“I hate deals,” she shrugged. “I’ll work with you,” she said, “not for you, and certainly not bound by a contract.”

He could hear it in the tone of her voice; she would not change this decision of hers, no matter what he did. But she was still willing to work with him, even after everything that had transpired.

Perhaps she was too willing.

He narrowed his eyes, accusations ready to be thrown at her, but before he could get a word out, she got up from her chair at the other side of the table and made her way towards him. “This isn’t a trick,” she said, knowing how his mind worked.

Maybe he should be scared of how well she seemed to know him already, but instead he remained quiet, letting her proceed. “I don’t care what happened before. I want to learn magic, you want to teach me magic; it’s a simple transaction. I gain knowledge and you gain an apprentice.”

“A knight,” he intervened.

Her brows furrowed but she remained silent, so he continued. “Every king needs a knight.”

The moment he’d seen her on that ship, a vision came to him. It was confusing, phrases he could not fully decipher, images that blended with each other and became one. But one of those images was clear as day, as was the sound of his own voice.

Sometime, in a future he cannot quite envision and for reasons he can’t really comprehend yet, the Crimson Knight will save his life.

He shook his head, bringing himself back to the present, where blue eyes—so alike her brother’s—were looking at him curiously.

It had been a long time since he’d last agreed to something without the safety of a contract reassuring him.

It was almost as if she had an open window into his mind. “We’ll just have to learn to trust one another,” she said, as if it was that simple.

But it wasn’t.

Trust, he thought, as they shook hands. What a peculiar concept.

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“Well, well. Must be my lucky day. Either of you care for a cup?” he asked.

She gave him a sweet smile as she rested against the vending machine, and in airy voice said, “I hope you choke on it.”

He just laughed, the bastard.

“A baby?” Emma asked him, leaning against the other side of the machine. “That’s your merchandise? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, because at the time you didn’t need to know.”

“Really, or you thought I wouldn’t take the job?”

“On the contrary, I thought it would be more effective if you found out yourself,” he said. At Emma’s questioning look, he continued. “After seeing Ashley’s hard life, I thought it would make sense…to you. I mean, if anyone could understand the reasons behind giving up a baby, I assumed it would be you.”

As much as Amy wanted to smash that plastic cup he was holding against his head, she held back, watching their discussion from the sidelines. Besides, Emma could tear him down just as fine on her own.

“You’re not getting that kid.” Emma’s tone was final.

But, as always, he had to make it difficult. “Actually, we have an agreement. And my agreements are always honored. If not-”

“Are they?” Amy couldn’t help but ask. “You’re agreements,” she clarified, “are they really always honored?”

He clenched his jaw, and she took that as a win. “So, no one’s ever backed out of a deal before? And you’ve never broken one?”

He broke our deal, a child’s voice from a memory she’d locked away came to the forefront of her mind. Her tone was calm, but the look in her eyes was anything but. He saw that, saw that she was looking for an excuse to start a fight, and ignored her, turning back to Emma.

Coward.

“If not,” he continued as if she hadn’t said anything, “I’m going to have to involve the police, and that baby is going to be end up in the system, and that would be a pity. You didn’t enjoy your time in the system, did you Emma?”

Amy took a few steps closer to him, a dangerous look in her eyes, but Emma stopped her from getting any closer to him and doing any real damage.

“That’s not gonna happen,” her friend said.

“I like your confidence. Charming.” Bet he thought he was real funny for his choice of words. “But all I have to do is press charges. She did, after all, break into my shop.”

“I can break your face, if you’d like to press charges at someone.”

Emma rolled her eyes at her friend’s antics, but let her be. “Let me guess, to steal a contract,” she told Rumple.

He shrugged. “Who knows what she was after.”

“You know, no jury in the world will put a woman in jail whose only reason for breaking and entering was to keep her child. I’m willing to roll the dice that contract doesn’t stand up. Are you?” Emma was now smirking. “Not to mention what might come out about you in the process. Somehow I suspect there is more to you than a simple pawnbroker. And I think we both know, I have the advantage,” she said, glancing at Amy. “You really want to start that fight?”

“I like you, Ms. Swan.”

“No one cares.”

His eyes met hers briefly, before he continued talking to Emma. “You’re not afraid of me, and that’s either cocky or presumptuous.”

Emma huffed. “She’s not afraid of you,” she said, nodding towards Amy. “What does that make her?” she asked, maybe in the hopes of gleaning something about her and Rumple’s past.

He just smiled, evading her question. “Either way, I’d rather have you on my side.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, but let it slide. “So she can keep the baby?” she asked him.

“Not just yet.” Because, of course, he would drag this whole farce out for as long as possible. “There’s still the matter of my agreement with Ms. Boyd.”

“Tear it up.”

“That’s not what I do. You see, contracts, deals, well, they’re the very foundation of all civilized existence.” Amy could sense what was coming, and she didn’t like it. At all. “So I put it out to you now. If you want Ashley to have that baby, are you willing to make a deal with me?”

There it was.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, I don’t know just yet. You’ll owe me a favor.”

Emma sized him up, before making the worst choice she could have possibly done at the moment. “Deal,” she said.

“No.”

The other two turned towards her, Emma with a questioning look in her eyes and Rumple…

He was smiling.

Because he knew that this whole thing would end like this, with Emma owing him so Ashley could keep the baby. Just as he knew that Amy would never let that happen, would never let Emma be in his debt.

This is what he wanted, she thought. And she had played right into his game.

A few moments passed before she said anything, just looking at him. As the seconds ticked away, his smile grew.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” she said, and it was practically written in her face how much she loathed saying those words.

“Amy-” Emma started, but Amy didn’t let her finish.

She stepped closer to him, lowering her voice as much as she could. “We both know a favor from me is worth more to you than a favor from her. So make a deal with me.”

He regarded her for a moment, glancing at Emma before returning his gaze at her, eyes slightly narrowed. “Just how much does she mean to you?” he muttered, voice so low she could barely hear him.

Amy understood the true question behind his words. How had Emma managed to become so important to her, so much so that Amy was willing to do anything to keep her safe?

She didn’t answer, instead she extended her arm to him. “Deal?”

There was a glint of something in his eyes, as he shook her hand. “Deal.”