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lumini-317 · 3 years

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Hello!

This will be my official “introductory” post!

My real name is Erica, but I go by many names. My nickname repertoire includes but is not limited to: Lumi, Lumini, Cricket (I have a habit of rubbing my feet together, lmao), Jinx, Eri, Er, EriJoy, Sunbaeby, and Aceir (my real name but in alphabetical order).

This is my first ever Tumblr blog. I’ve had it for a while but have rarely posted anything, that along with the fact that I’m on mobile is kind of a mess so I apologize for mistakes and all that.

I have 3 older brothers, an older sister, and a younger brother.

I’m an ambivert. Sometimes I love hanging out with bigger groups of people, other times I dread it.

I’ve taken the “16personalities” test 4 times and all 4 put me in the “Diplomat” category, however I got “Advocate” (INFJ) 2 times, and “Protagonist” (ENFJ) and “Mediator” (INFP) 1 time each.

I am LGBTQ+. I’m asexual, aro+panromantic flux, and while I feel like I’m genderfluid, the changes are very subtle and so I sometimes just go with agender, gendervoid, or neutrois. It’s a lot less complicated that way. I’m ambiamorous, and also pronoun apathetic!

I love whump. I’ve loved it for as long as I can remember but only found the whump community maybe 3(?) years ago.

I also love K-Pop, C-Pop, J-Pop, and Asian dramas, mainly K-Pop and K-Dramas, though.

I’m a HUGE multistan. ATEEZ, SKZ, TBZ, EXO, BTS, Red Velvet, SHINee, iKON, MONSTA X, TWICE, TO1, WANNA ONE, SuperM, X1, MIRAE, Ciipher, Golden Child, Purple Kiss, BAE173, SF9, IU, ONEUS, ONEWE, The Rose, PIXY, LUCY, STAYC, WEi (which I pronounced as “way” for an embarrassingly long time), Dreamcatcher, Brave Girls, TXT, ENHYPEN, SNSD, KARD, AKMU, SHAUN, Gaho, NCT, GHOST9, 1team, SE7EN, Cross Gene, D1ce, AB6IX, CRAVITY, BLACKPINK, CIX, VIXX, f(x), 4Minute, CLC, YEZI, B.I, Wonho, (G)I-DLE, EVERGLOW, SEVENTEEN, BROOKLYN, Ha Hyunsang, DAY6, GOT7, Teen Top, BAP, TREASURE, UNIQ, etc! It goes on, far longer than I can list. I am also very much against fanwars, they disgust me.

I’m also a HUGE animal lover, and a big softie. I can’t even squish insects. I don’t care that they can’t feel pain and don’t experience emotions, I just can’t bring myself to. I make it my mission to save any type of animal I come across. I find toads in our koi pond and immediately pick them out and take them to a safe place. I help turtles across the road. I got a mouse out of a puddle and revived it, releasing it when it was healthy enough. I saw a snail on a piece of wood that was going to be thrown on a fire and carefully pulled it off and put it somewhere else. So far I’ve found 5 stray cats (Piper, Toothless, Felix, Kai, and Kit Kat—all were found as skinny, sickly kittens) and took them in, raising them as my own. I rescued a chipmunk from certain death-by-cat. I’ve even saved a few baby raccoons, ducklings, lizards, spiders, and snakes in my time. And I’ll keep doing so for as long as I live.

I love writing, drawing/sketching, and painting, however I’m not confident that I’m good at any of those things, lmao. I mean, I don’t think I’m the worst, but my finished “works” often leave me unsatisfied with my “skills”. But of course, that won’t stop me from trying to improve!

I’m a maladaptive daydreamer. This can cause issues in some places while helping me out in others. On one hand, it makes doing chores and such kind of difficult. Like one time I had to take care of my dad’s pigeons while he was fixing our shed and one time he pointed out how slow I was with the chores. His words were something along the lines of, “I’m already almost done with what I have to do and you’re still working with the pigeons.” Also, it (and maybe ADHD if I do have it?) made school a nightmare for me. But it’s also helpful because then during church it’s really easy to keep myself occupied while the pastors go on about their Magical Sky Daddy™’s son throwing a tantrum and killing a figtree because it didn’t have any figs and how that story should “challenge” us or something.

The characters in my daydreams are weird, though. They merge and separate with each other to make different characters depending on the situation. Most of them don’t have definite genders. Only a handful of them have names because they’re always merging and separating like some kind of Shadow Clone Masters or something. Stuff like that.

One of my characters is for sure a demi-boy, though, and his name is Kyler.

I brought this up because I was watching The Andy Griffith Show and Andy was giving Opie a lecture on how many poor kids there are in the world and used the ratio “one and a half boys per square mile”. Opie then says that he’s “never seen a half a boy before”. Kyler just sort of pops into (fake) existence, jumps off the couch, and throws his arms in the air while saying, “Half a boy, right here!” I burst out laughing. Thankfully it didn’t seem weird, since my parents started laughing at Opie and thought that I was just laughing at it, too.

Any-who.

If I daydream while I’m standing, I’ll often pace and gesture with my arms while moving my lips. Sometimes I’ll even whisper. If I’m sitting down, I usually fidget a lot (such as pick at my shirt and rub my feet together), stare into space, and move my lips or whisper. My family sometimes ask me, “Why are you whispering?” Or, “What are you grinning about?” And I just shrug because I don’t know how to explain it to them without risking them calling someone to pray over me, lmao. I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to have imaginary friends because that was “evil”. When I was about 7, I told my parents about my imaginary unicorn friend and they gave me a lecture and “prayed over me”. It was embarrassing and awkward for me.

I’m suspicious that I might have ADHD, but don’t have the money to actually get a professional diagnosis. I’m also too scared to ask my parents about it.

Speaking of which, my family and I don’t see eye-to-eye. I mean, they don’t know it because I’m good at hiding it, and they think I agree with mostly everything they do but boy, is it a mess.

You see, they’re evangelical conservative Christians. “LGBTQ+ people are going to hell”, “ThE LeFt ARe eViL AnD ARe TrYiNg To BrAiNwAsh OuR ChiLdrEn”, “Trump was sent by God”, “Intersex is fake”, “Women must submit to men”, “You should get married no later than in a year or ‘the temptation’ to have sex might become too much”, the whole bit.

Meanwhile I’m over here with my (imaginary) pride flags, just existing as an agnostic leftist who wants everyone to have equal rights, regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation, and would rather redo my horrifically atrocious kindergarten closing program role than pray to a god who (if they/he/she/it/whatever exists) gives cancer to kids and killed millions of innocent animals and people in the Bible.

But they have no idea that this is how I feel and now expect me to be baptized within the next month to show that I have “accepted Jesus Christ as my savior”. Yeah...that’s gonna be an awkward discussion...

Anyway, that’s just some things about me. Sorry that I got sidetracked a few times, lmao!

I look forward to posting more and maybe even making friends!

Thank you for reading (:

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3packsfrom21 · 4 years

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Throwback to Italy

:[ Yes, I am finishing this post two weeks late. Yes, Italy is a whole country in the past. Yes, I get it mom, you wanted the post out a while ago. But guess what, I love you and that’s all that matters. ]:

Well, once again we said goodbye to another country. Italy was definitely our fastest place in Europe; looking back it seems detached. The memories I have, when compared to the amount of time we spent making them, are disjointed. But I will make an effort to recall them in some sort of order.

We arrived in Italy by bus on the 6th of October. We pulled up to the border crossing (that, might I add, is more like a scary prison entrance) and weren’t surprised when the bus pulled over and two police officers came on. The usual boarder inspection. This time, they asked us to grab all of our bags, exit the bus and line up. We were lucky to be one of the first in line. The officers asked us a few routine questions - where we came from, our destination, what our plans were, etc. We were surprised at how friendly and kind they were, when compared to many other border officers. They were satisfied with our responses and we were allowed to re-board the bus. We then watched as the officers went through the rest of the line. What we assumed would be a half hour stop turned out to be quite a bit longer. On multiple occasions, they inspected peoples bags. And when I say inspect, I mean going to the extent of even reading the ingredients on one lady’s lotion bottle. The last woman in line was even asked to go with the officers inside for further investigation. We ended up sitting there, watching other buses go through without inspection, for two hours. Some passengers were less than impressed. Anyway, our four hour ride suddenly became over six hours long. Even worse because once we were able to cross through (with all of the passengers and all of the bags – it was never really clear why the search was so intense), the rest of the drive to Turin took longer than expected.

Turin: our first taste of Italy. Mixed emotions surround this food capital. It was dirty, big, frustrating, exciting, fantastic, delicious, and bland all at once. When we arrived, we made the thirty minute walk across the city (only getting turned around a couple times) and followed the directions given by our AirBnB host on how to get the key. We were to go to the cleaning lady’s apartment, ring the bell, and she would give it to us. Of course, the language barrier made things a bit fun. The kind old man who brought us the key spoke no English whatsoever. However, with a lot of pausing and a little game of charades, we managed to understand that he was asking when we would return the key. Always fun, communicating without words!

Our AirBnB was very nice, and made our time in Turin even better. We made our first whole meal – full of fried vegetables, homemade fries, and frozen pasta (because you can’t have everything fresh). There is something very rejuvenating about making good food. I cannot fully describe it but I’m sure all of you who have travelled are well versed in the feeling. Turin held our first real look at markets and, much to Kiana’s chagrin, we explored them thoroughly. We learned that there are designated times for eating – as in, if you find a restaurant that is open before 8AM and between 3PM and 7PM you are very lucky. [As an aside; I’d like to add that just because a place is the “Food Capital” does not mean it doesn’t have some pretty crappy food.] Feeling satisfied and excited for the rest of Italy, we said goodbye to our two-day city and took a night bus to Venice.

Now, I’m afraid you may have drawn the short straw, as I am the one writing about our next destination. I have heard many things about Venice, most of them holding a more negative connotation. If you ask the average Italian joe their thoughts on the small westernized Island, you will get some sort of muffled grunt followed with a brushing off motion. I have heard the streets are smelly, that it’s overpriced, that it is not authentic, and that it is a must see (one day) destination. But to me, I will only remember being completely baffled, because it was everything I had imagined. It will remain the beautiful city on water that captured my attention at age thirteen. Except now, instead of expectations, I have memories.

Each of us has one must-see place that we will hit on this trip. This was mine.

Ever since I got my postcard from Leona and Amanda eight years ago, asking for the top ten places that I’d choose to go to (for my 13 year old birthday trip), Venice has had a spot on my list (like actually it was in my top three). I saw pictures of an oasis and wanted to live there for eternity. Looking back, I think its safe to say Venice would have been very interesting with the boys (Ben and Anthony) as they’d have been bored out of their minds! So I say once again, Roatan was a good choice Leona and Amanda, good choice.

Anyway, back to Venice. We got in at 5AM on the 9th. Our hostel was easy to find and very accommodating – they checked us in early. We dropped our bags (as quietly as we could) and fell into bed. We didn’t wake up until later in the morning so it wasn’t surprising that it was already 2PM when we took our seat on the train going to Venice. There are many pictures of my giddy face from that ride, you can be assured of that.

Now, for a quick summary of Venice…

People were right. It was overpriced, westernized, and very touristy. You had to pay for table settings and pay even more to sit outside. And yet, I cannot stamp my time there with that as the title. Because even though every square had crowds of people, there were even more tiny back streets waiting to be seen solely by us. We got lost in the picturesque buildings, going over countless quaint bridges and marveling at each one. It was home to great gelato and the best pasta you can get for 6€. The air was clean and the canals were blue. Both days were spent in complete contentment and thankfulness. So I will stand by those who say it’s a must see, but I can assure you, one day is not enough.

From Venice we took one of our last European buses to Florence. We had booked one night there and hadn’t a clue where we’d go after that. Now I don’t know if you all recall my exploration of Irish buses, but if not, you will get a retelling here. There has been very few rides to compare with our bus to Lahinch, Ireland. But this bus…. this may have been worse. I don’t know who they get to drive these vehicles, but it is not licensed drivers. The thing was, there wasn’t even that many corners! See, we in Canada have this thing call ROLLING: rolling to a stop and rolling forward. We seem to be the only ones to have figured this out. Instead, Italy has something called MURDER: murder passengers by ignoring the multitude of break lights in front of you, until you are going to hit them and at the last second slam on the breaks. Murder passengers by giving them all whiplash because I want to be moving at 60km/h, 20 seconds from a complete stop. Europe is incredible in many aspects of their society but please, can someone teach them how to drive!

Many people say Florence is a highlight city in Italy. We wouldn’t know, as we saw absolutely none of it. We took the tram across town to our hostel, slept, got up and spent the whole afternoon trying to find a place to stay for that night. We aren’t sure what was happening in Florence that weekend but there were absolutely no places to stay under 130 CAN. So we booked a place in a very small town out in the Tuscan countryside. When I say small, I mean Google maps didn’t even know where we were, small. We took a train to Arezzo, and from there a ten minute train to a town called Giovi. No, you wont be able to find it. There, we spent a little under a week in a Tuscan cottage to ourselves. Our AirBnB hosts were a young Italian family who were over-the-top helpful. When we tried to go into Arezzo on Sunday and figured out (at the train stop) that no trains come out on Sundays, they picked us up and brought us into Arezzo. When we had asked how to get out to the cottage, as it is 3km outside of Giovi, they offered to pick us up. They dropped us off, supplied us with water and a beautiful home to stay in. I say this with complete confidence: this was our European home. Yes, Dromore was amazing, and Champfleuri held the treasure of Christian community, but Giovi gave us a bit of comfort that all of those lacked. We made supper every night (Pasta, Pasta, Pasta and a bit more Pasta) and watched the sunset from our upstairs window. We woke up chilly to the sound of dawn and did our devotions in our own perfect nooks. We shared Thanksgiving supper across the world (pasta) and came to love our walk to town, surrounded by vineyards.

There are many stories I could tell you of our time in the countryside, ones I’m sure you’ll all hear of when we return home. But for now, at least, rest assured, we learned a myriad of lessons and laughed at them all. Arezzo held a wonderful food festival that, in a way, let us have a bit of thanksgiving all the way over here. But as I said before – a story for another time.

Rome:

Rejuvenated, and ready to move on, we took a train to Florence and from there a bus to Rome. This was a much smoother bus, much to my pleasure. We were in Rome from the 16th to the 22nd and it was not enough time.

We arrived in the evening, and took a train across town to our hostel. Funnily enough, as we walked down the street, Janae remembered where she had stayed ten years ago (with Leona and Amanda) and pointed up at it as we passed by. We stayed on the same street, just a little bit farther down. That night, we grabbed pizza and walked down to see the Coliseum lit up. Back at our hostel we were told that there was a mix up and that we were all in separate rooms for one night but that the next we’d all have a room together. It was a bit annoying, but nothing to get our nickers in a knot over.

The next day we set out to do a free walking tour. We got half way there before realizing we had no money to take the metro, and so, after much deliberation, we skipped the tour and went to the Vatican. Now, most people say the Vatican is a one day affair. Well, not for us.

We went, and got in the long line to see the St Peters Basilica. We hoped it wouldn’t take forever to get through. As we waited, I looked up some information on the Basilica and, as I read, came across something to do with a dress code. To anyone wanting to visit the Vatican: there is a dress code. And shorts, sandals and tank tops do not fit the criteria. Looking around at everyone else in line, it seemed we’d obviously missed a very well known memo. That’s what you run into when you do everything off-the-cuff. So, frustrated that we hadn’t read up on it before coming, we got out of line and pushed seeing the Vatican to the following day. With two of our plans thwarted, we went to find something to eat. *Another tip, don’t eat in the area surrounding the Vatican; you might think it would be cheaper than by the Coliseum, but you are wrong. Go across town and eat. That took us three days to figure out.

After being filled by more pizza, we embarked on plan C. Instead of the walking tour, and instead of the Vatican, we checked out the Pantheon and the Spanish Steps (which, PS – still not really sure why they are so cool. I mean guys, its not the first staircase to have 176 steps so what’s the big deal? I get it, Audrey H shot a movie there, but still ). We also dunked our hands in the Trevi Fountain (and didn’t get caught), and finished Kiana’s last day of being 24 with a beautiful view of the sunset. Overall, a very good day!

Day two of Rome brought us back to the Vatican. This time fully dress and prepared for long lines. We read our books and looked like nerds but didn’t think twice about it. We managed to get into the Basilica in under 1 hour. The basilica was cool. Busy, but cool. I mean, how much can you say about a church, you know? Ask Kiana if you have a couple days to spare. All in all, we were in there for two hours. We waited in the woman’s bathroom line for another 45 minutes – lamenting on the fact that for some reason architects have yet to figure out that women need more than four stalls!

After St. Peter’s we went for pizza, yet again. We had hoped to hit the Vatican Museums after lunch. But a quick look at the time decided that for us. The Vatican closes at 4PM; it was 2. We did not have enough time to see them, so once again we chose to leave seeing the whole Vatican for another day. The rest of Kiana’s Birthday was spent looking around, eating Gelato and once again finding a great look out over the city at sunset.

Round three of the Vatican started early, and still we waited 1.5 hours to get in. I like museums, but the Vatican museums were a bit too busy for me. Basically, you entered the mob of people, shuffled through a billion different rooms, unable to stop, as the mob pushed you forward. The Sistine Chapel was really cool to see, but we were so drained from all the crowds that our appreciation level was running low. Overall, we were able to appreciate the grandeur of the museums but were fairly happy to exit them as well.

So now you understand how we managed to get so confused with the Vatican. It’s because we did absolutely no research and ended up somehow missing important pieces of information two days in a row.

That night, looking for a gelato place, Kiana looked up a place near our hostel. Turns out it was the place Janae went to on her thirteenth birthday trip. This made the gelato even better; just watching her face made it for me. (PS – I haven’t explored what the “Leona and Amanda trips” are. I am hoping most of you know already. If not, I will give you a very short explanation: We have two amazing cousins named Leona and Amanda. When all their first cousins turned thirteen, they took them on a trip. It was their birthday gift to us for our entire life. Kiana went to Jamaica, Janae – Rome, and I went to Roatan. These trips are what sparked our love for traveling and have founded the rest of our adventures.)

The next day (we’re on the 20th now), we saw the Coliseum and the Roman Forum. These were crazy to see, so it wasn’t at all odd that we spent the entire day exploring them. We spent from 2:00 until 7:00 in the Roman forum and still we felt rushed. Had our feet not been so tired from standing in lines all day, we would have been able to see all of it with greater enthusiasm. But alas, it was still one of our highlights from Italy. There is just something really cool about walking on cobble stone streets that were laid down 90 BC.

Our last couple of days were spent getting ready for Greece. And, on the 22nd of October, at 5 AM we took a taxi to the airport, saying goodbye to our time in Italy.

Somewhere in Italy we hit the half-way point in our trip. This held mixed emotions. From the beginning of our trip, we all felt that the first half would go by slower than the second. This idea founds our dilemma; we crave the normality of home as much as we wish for more time. Sometimes you wake up feeling low; in that fog, you struggle to find enthusiasm for the time you have left. But the next minute, the fog has cleared; you see something amazing, or talk to people who do this for much longer than you, and just like that, all you want is for time to freeze a little. I guess what I’m saying is, when people say traveling gives perspective, I’ve always taken it to mean you start your trip as this naïve girl and come out a well conditioned woman ready for the next step in her life. But as this trip hits its last month I have come to the conclusion that, in fact it is a perspective of questioning, not of answers. And I’m not sure I like that as much.

As a final note: I’m sure all of you have started noticing a trend. The trend where all three of us McCluskeys end our blogs the same way. As I do my final edits, I can’t help but notice that all of our mindsets are the same. You have read multiple accounts of how we long for home while still wanting more time, or how we appreciate our four months, while recognizing that it isn’t what we expected, or.. bla bla bla. And if I was you, I would be thinking: man, we get it, you want to come home. Bear with us. We have all said the same thing, multiple times, basically in the same way. But, hey, at this point, we’ve been asked if we’re triplets so many times, we decided to take it one step further.

Ciao - Lynece

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ryik-the-writer · 7 years

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For the @rumbellesummervacation

The Marble Girl: The Gold's travel to the Bonaventure Cemetery in Savannah where Gideon meets a new friend.

P.S. Please send your prayers and good vibes to those who are bracing Hurricane Irma. I myself may have to evacuate and I’m really scared.

-Enjoy!

A03

-.-.-.-.-.-

Savannah, Georgia was one of the more unique places the Gold Family had visited on their world travels. Other than Manhattan and Boston, they hadn’t traveled much in the states, preferring more exotic places such as Italy and France.

However, when Gideon was old enough to start school, the Gold’s decided to shrink their horizon in the states. They returned to Storybrooke so that Gideon could start school with his friends and visit his grandpa Moe.

Finally, summer vacation rolled around and soon enough the Gold’s were packed and making their way to Belle’s chosen destination: Savannah, Georgia.

Belle spread the pamphlets her husband had gotten from the tourist station onto the bed in the hotel room she and her family were going to be staying in for the next two weeks.

“Can we go to the beach?” Gideon asked excitedly as he bounced on his parent’s bed.

Belle gently sat him on the side on the bed and picked up the pamphlet her son was holding.

“Forecast’s calling for clouds tomorrow and Sunday.” Rumplestiltskin called from the bathroom where he was unpacking the toiletries and disinfecting everything with wipes.

Belle shook her head, knowing the real reason her husband didn’t want to go to the beach was due to 1) his hatred of shorts, and 2) his fear of Gideon getting burnt. Her husband could be a bit overprotective sometimes, especially now that Gideon was at the age where he liked to run off on his own.

“We’ll save that for when it’s nice and sunny.” Belle told Gideon, searching through the pamphlet’s for something else her son would enjoy. Savannah was overflowing with history and culture and she wanted her family to absorb as much as possible.

“Oh, there’s a children’s theater not too far from here.” Belle read. “They start their season on Wednesday. Their showing The Wizard of Oz.”

Rumplestiltskin frowned as he sat beside his wife and son, glaring at the picture of the actress dressed as his green foe.

Belle noticed her husband’s discomfort and put it to the side, snatching up the next one.

“Dolphins!” Gideon cheered.

“Savannah’s famous for their dolphin tours, and it’s right near the beach.”

“The rain.” Rumplestiltskin reminded her.

Gideon sigh and jumped off the bed to explore.

“Well then Mr. Gold, what do you think we should do?” Belle asked her husband.

“Stay in our apartment and try takeout from every restaurant with a five-star review?”

Belle gave him an amused look and shook her head.

Rumplestiltskin sighed and picked up a pamphlet at random.

“How about a ghost tour? Lot’s of history to be seen.”

Belle glanced at Gideon who was unpacking some of his toys. “I don’t know if Gideon would like that, he might get board or scared.”

“He’s a brave child Belle. I’m sure he saw worse horrors when he was with the Black—”

“Shh!” Belle shushed him, a clear desperate warning in her eyes. Gideon had been given a second chance at a good life after the Black Fairy’s defeat and Belle and Rumplestiltskin had done their best to leave the past behind them. Other than an occasional nightmare that sent the young boy bounding to his parent’s room in the dead of night, Gideon had yet to show signs that he remembered his former life. However both parents knew that someday their slice of happily ever after would run thin and Gideon would start to remember. Until then however, they wanted to keep him innocent which mostly meant not mentioning The Black Fairy out of fear her name may trigger something.

A pamphlet at the bottom of the pile caught Rumplestiltskin’s eye. He picked it up and browsed through the contents, smiling as an idea came to him.

“What are you planning?” Belle inquired mischievously.

Rumple showed her the pamphlet and Belle’s smiled dimmed lightly.

“Bonaventure Cemetery? That’s a bit grim Rumple, and only slightly less worrisome than a ghost tour.”

“Ah, but we can go on our own time. No tours, no guide shoving us along, and there’s an area near the river where we could have a picnic.”

Belle smiled. Other than bookstores, family picnics were her guilty pleasures.

“I suppose that would be a fun way to spend the day, but you’ll have to dress down.”

Rumplestiltskin sighed in annoyance, but if he’d have to lay down his suited armor for a day with his family then so be it.

“Gideon!” Belle called to her son. “How would you like to go on a picnic tomorrow?”

“Yeah!” Gideon cheered.

-,-,-,-,-

The next morning Belle snuck to the grocery store to pick up a few things for the picnic. By the time she got back Gideon was jumping on the bed trying to wake his father.

“Come on Papa get up!” Gideon exclaimed.

Rumplestiltskin grumbled and hid his head under the pillow. Gideon crawled over to sit on his chest, trying to pull the pillow off his papa’s head. Suddenly Rumplestiltskin jumped up, wrapping the blanket around Gideon and smothering him in a cocoon of warmth.

Belle smiled as father and son played and regretted having to break them up.

A few hours later Belle and Gideon were unpacking the car while Rumple went into the main office for a map and pamphlet.

“Can we have the picnic now?” Gideon asked when his father returned.

Rumplestiltskin chuckled and soothed the boy’s hair. “Let’s walk around a bit son, work off that cereal you ate for breakfast.”

Gideon shrugged and began to trot ahead, a task his father had cleverly hindered by filling his little backpack with a heavy bottle of water and other essentials.

Belle read through the map and squealed when she saw the location of Conrad Aiken’s grave.

“I love his poems! We have to go see it!”

“My dear wife is excited to see the rock of a dead man?”

“A notable man, thank you Mr. Gold.” Belle corrected with a kiss on his lips.

Gideon watched the exchange with an eye roll. Sometimes his parents kissed too much.

Within the next few hours the Golds saw a great deal of Bonaventure Cemetery, though they had yet to find the poet’s Conrad Aiken’s grave. Still they found several other interesting figures such as Edythe Chapman, an actress that Rumplestiltskin recalled seeing in a few films of during his curse years. And though neither of the Golds knew much about the history of this world or the events that led to its wars and slaughters, they took their time to pay their respects in the Jewish and Veteran sections.

Gideon was becoming restless so Belle and Rumplestiltskin found the rest area and unpacked the lunch.

“I think we passed it.” Belle sighed as she searched through the map.

“We’ll find it Belle.” Rumplestiltskin assured as he picked the crust off a sandwich.

Belle shook her head in frustration. “We must have walked right by it. I’ve read elvish text that made more sense than this!”

Rumplestiltskin leaned over to assist his wife, leaving Gideon out of his parent’s eyesight for the first time that day. Gideon promised himself he wouldn’t wonder off far as his parents always got upset when he did. He was just so bored! He liked being with his mama and papa and a lot of the statues around the cemetery were cool, but there was nothing much to do butwalk. He wished his parents had taken him on one of those tours; there was always another kid to play with on those.

Gideon continued on, kicking rocks and dragging his backpack, wishing there was at least a swing set nearby.

A sound caught the young boy’s attention. It sounded like sniffling. Who would be crying in the middle of a cemetery? He looked around when something white caught his eye. Straight ahead, hidden by a cluster of headstones, was a little girl hidden behind a gate.

Curious, Gideon sent one last glance towards his parents before he walked forward.

As he got closer, Gideon discovered that it wasn’t a little girl at all—well, it technically was, but it was a statue of one. But statues don’t cry, right?

Gideon looked at the statue girl more closely, wondering why they would need to keep her in a gate like this. In front of the gate was a large stone and around the stone were all kinds of treasures: pretty little rocks, pennies, hair clips and lots of little toys.

“L-little G-Gr-a-cie. Little Gracie?” Gideon read (his mama had taught him to read).

“Y-yes?”

Gideon looked up and through the gate a little girl peaked out from behind the statue.

Gideon gasped; she looked just like the statue.

“Are…are you Little Gracie?” Gideon inquired.

The little girl nodded, stepping closer to the gate that separated the two children.

“Why are you inside the gate?” Gideon asked.

“I can’t leave.” She pointed up and Gideon turned to see that the gate was locked.

“Then how did you get in there? Where are your mom and dad?”

Little Gracie shook her head, tears building in her eyes again.

Gideon grimaced, not sure how to deal with a crying child. There was always an adult around to deal with them.

“I…can go get my mom and dad.” Gideon suggested.

“No don’t go!” Little Gracie cried, reaching out for him through the gate.

Gideon gasped when her hand went right through his.

“You’re the first person that’s talked to me in so long. You can see and hear me…that’s never happened before!”

“I…you’re a ghost!” Gideon jumped back.

“I…I’m…” tears ran down the little girl’s cheeks and Gideon’s remorse outweighed his fear and confusion.

“I’m sorry. Don’t cry. My names Gideon.”

Little Gracie nodded, wiping her eyes. “Are you a ghost too?”

“No…at least I don’t think so. My mom and dad are vacationing here.”

Little Gracie sat on the grass and Gideon copied her. “Where are you from?”

“Storybrooke. It’s in Maine.”

For the first time, Little Gracie smiled. “I remember seeing Maine on a map once in my papa’s study. It was close to where we lived in Boston.”

“I’ve been to Boston!” Gideon said excitedly. “My papa goes to a lot of yard sales. He brings home tons of weird stuff, but staying in a hotel is fun.”

“My papa ran a hotel.” Little Gracie said sadly. “I used to sing and dance for the guests. It was a lot of fun.”

“How did you…” Gideon paused, wondering exactly what the right etiquette one was supposed to display to a ghost. Asking “how did you die?” seemed rude in Gideon’s opinion.

“How did you get here?” he asked instead.

Little Gracie picked at the grass. “I don’t remember. Mama and me were cutting out paper eggs for easter…but I got sick. Mama was sad and Papa wouldn’t stop crying.”

Gideon swallowed, suddenly wishing his parents were by his side.

“Then I woke up in front of this statue of me, and I’ve been here waiting for mama and papa. I’ve been waiting a long time.”

Gideon looked around, wondering just how far away her parents were buried.

“Maybe I could find them for you.” Gideon perked up, leaning closer to the gate. “I can find them and take you to them.”

“But I can’t leave the gate.”

“My papa can help.” Gideon assured. “He can figure out anything.”

Little Gracie hesitated before sticking her hand out of the gate, arching her pinkie.

“Okay Gideon.”

Gideon arched his pinkie as well, unsure just what would happen when he made a deal via pinkie-promise with a ghost.

Their fingers met and Gideon gasped. His finger didn’t faze through hers like before. He could feel her cold finger intertwined with his.

“Gideon!”

Gideon shot around at the sound of his mama’s frantic voice. He dropped Little Gracie’s finger and jumped up, forgetting his new friend for a moment while he located his worried parents.

“Over here mama!” Gideon called out.

Belle and Rumplestiltskin suddenly appeared over the hill and sprinted towards him.

“Gideon are you alright?” Rumplestiltskin asked.

Belle scooped the boy into her arms, smothering his response.

“Oh my baby.” Belle cried.

Gideon managed to wiggle out of his mama’s grip to answer (and breathe).

“I’m fine mama.”

“You know better to run off like that son.” Rumplestiltskin chastised. “You scared your mama and papa to death.”

Gideon lowered his eyes in shame. “I’m sorry.”

Belle sighed, her soft hands searching his face. “I think that’s enough adventuring for today. Let’s go home.”

“Wait!” Gideon exclaimed, wiggling from his mother’s firm grip. “I have to help…”

Gideon stared at the gate housing Little Gracie’s statue. Just the statue.

Little Gracie was gone.

-,-,-,-,-,-

Gideon’s parents had calmed by dinner time. They ordered in a pizza and settled for bed rather early. Instead of one of the storybooks Gideon had brought with him, Gideon asked that his mama read through one of the pamphlets they’d gotten from the office at the cemetery.

“That’s her!” Gideon exclaimed, pointing to a picture of Little Gracie’s statue. “That’s the girl I talked to in the graveyard!”

Belle yawned. “It was just a statue honey, you imagined her.”

“No mama!” Gideon insisted. “I talked to her. She can’t find her parents and she can’t leave the gate.”

Belle was tired from the long day, and doing her best to stay patient with her son. “Gideon, sometimes…when circumstances are a certain way, people can imagine things. Really vivid things that seem so real at the time but just aren’t. You were hot and tired so when you saw the Little Gracie statue you imagined her.”

“Your mother’s right son.” Rumplestiltskin agreed as he exited the bathroom. “You come from a family of great minds. It’s only natural you have an extensive imagination.”

Gideon frowned, losing his patience with his family. “She was real. And…I promised her I’d help her.”

Belle sighed and turned her tired eyes to her husband for help.

“How about this:” Rumplestiltskin negotiated, “How about you get some sleep, and if you still think Little Gracie is real, we’ll go back by the cemetery and…see what we can do.”

“That’s right.” Belle smiled, climbing off Gideon’s bed. “But you need to sleep. Now, please.”

Gideon sighed. Adults were so difficult. Still, he bid his parents goodnight and promised himself that he’d go back tomorrow for Little Gracie.

But, as most children tend to do, Gideon’s young mind became cluttered with other delights. The following morning his parents surprised him with a dolphin tour and the ghost of little Gracie slipped his mind.

His parents as well brushed it off. Though they came from a world of magic and mayhem, the paranormal was just too much of a stretch for their practical but opened minds to wrap around. And honestly, both wanted to wait until Gideon was older before they exposed him to too much of his heritage.

-,-,-,-

The Gold’s family trip in Savannah came and went and Little Gracie was apparently forgotten.

Until just after Gideon’s eighteenth birthday when memories of his old life began to resurface.

It started off with night terror so intense that he was too sick to go to school, followed by flashbacks that would leave him in a state of panic.

Rumplestiltskin and Belle finally told him everything: the tension between his parents that led Belle to send him away, the Black Fairy taking him and raising him under her maniacal reign, him being reverted back into an infant upon her defeat, and finally his parent’s trying to give him the best life possible after their mistakes.

Gideon wasn’t angry at his parents, and was relieved that the things he had seen had an explanation. With their help he began putting the pieces of his past life back together and all began to return to normal.

Until the day the Gold family began to make their summer plans and Gideon was hit with a horrifying vision that shattered the recovering boy’s state of being.

Belle had brought down their extensive pile of pamphlets so that they could remanence as they made a decision. The Golds had been around the entire world and had yet to visit the same place twice, but now that Gideon had graduated and was leaving for college soon, they wanted one last trip to one of their favorite destinations. The problem was that they had had so many.

“How about Italy?” Rumplestiltskin suggested. “We all speak fluent Italian, why not put it to the test?”

“I like the sound of that.” Belle agreed. “You were only three when we took you there, Gideon.”

Gideon nodded, rifling slowly through the pamphlets. To be quite honest, Gideon wanted nothing more than to stay in Storybrooke for the summer and do absolutely nothing. He was exhausted from dealing with the visions of his past life and didn’t want to go somewhere where more visions could be triggered. However, this was his last summer at home and he wanted to do something special and memorable with his parents.

His fingers grazed the smooth pamphlets, some now wrinkled with age while some remained as crisp as the day his mother plucked them from the tourist stations. His parents had done their best to give him a life full of adventure and magic. He saw places that most people his age would never see, and made beautiful memories from all of them. He wished that they were the only memories swimming around his mind.

He picked up one of the pamphlets at random, flipping through it without seeing where it was from.

His eyes fell on a mass of gravestones and he froze, the familiar buzzing of a flashback rattling his brain.

“Wait.”

Belle and Rumplestiltskin looked up, both tensing when they saw the distant, horrified look on their boy’s face.

“No!” Gideon screamed. “Mother please don’t!”

Rumplestiltskin moved to his side, ready to catch and restrain him.

Suddenly Gideon shot back, the pamphlet sailing from his hand and skidding across the room.

“No!” Gideon sobbed, his eyes darting around the room. “No no no…”

Belle ran to his side, pulling him to her arms. “It’s okay baby, it’s over.”

“He’s gone!” Gideon sobbed.

Rumplestiltskin pulled his family into the protective circle of his arms. “Who is, Gideon?”

“…Roderick…” Gideon cried, shaking his head. “She killed him just because she was angry at me. He wasn’t supposed to die…he’s gone.”

Belle swallowed hard, remembering hazily when her husband mentioning this Roderick. They still didn’t know the entire story about him and their son, but now it would seem that he had a greater impact on Gideon than they had formerly proclaimed.

“I’m sorry son.” Rumplestiltskin said, kissing the top of the boy’s head. “I’m so sorry you had to remember that.”

Gideon took several deep therapeutic breaths, feeling strained but safe in his parent’s arms even as the memory of Roderick’s last moments flickered through his mind. He looked to the side, trying to focus on something else when the pamphlet he threw came into view.

Gideon began to panic when the buzzing returned. He couldn’t handle another flashback right now. But it came anyway and Gideon grabbed hold of his parents.

The vision that came wasn’t even close to as terrifying as the one before. It was pleasant. He remembered walking through a cemetery and gawking at the impressive statues, his parents holding each of his hands. He remembered the picnic, and the boredom that caused him to stray from his parents, and finally, the little girl behind the gate.

“Gracie.” Gideon gasped, the memory of his promise hitting him like a ton of bricks. He tore from his parents protective arms and crawled to the Bonaventure pamphlet, searching through it until he came across the picture of Little Gracie Watson’s memorial.

“What is it son?”

Gideon turned back to his parents, his gaze lost and confused.

“I broke a promise.”

“Honey, it wasn’t your fault.” Belle tried to reassure. “The Black Fairy—”

“No,” Gideon shook his head. “Not to Roderick, to Gracie. I promised her I’d help her find her parents but…”

Belle and Rumplestiltskin looked at each other, their eyes widening when they realized what their son was referring to.

“Gideon, that was just…an imaginary friend.”

“I thought so to, but it wasn’t. She was real. She came to me and asked for my help. And I just forgot about her.”

“Sweetie…”

“Mom, Dad, I know there’s a lot in this world we don’t understand, but isn’t it possible that there are things here that are more real here than from where we’re from?”

Belle smiled at her son. “I suppose so.”

Gideon looked back at the picture of Little Gracie, the poor little girl who couldn’t move on. “Maybe it was because of magic that she was able to talk to me. Maybe I can help her now that I’m stronger.”

Belle turned to her husband who shrugged. He was still far from a believer of the paranormal, but his son needed his support. He wouldn’t fail him again.

“What do you need us to do?”

Gideon smiled at his parents, grateful to tears for their love. But he frowned worriedly. “I don’t know where to start.”

Belle walked up to him and gently took the pamphlet from his hands. “How about you go lie down while I make some calls?”

Gideon wanted to decline, but he was tired, and his plan would be sloppy if he wasn’t in the right state of mind.

For the first time in months, Gideon slept peacefully without guilt or horrors clawing at his dreams.

-,-,-,-

One week later, the Gold family ventured into the Bonaventure Cemetery, information on Gracie’s parents in Belle’s purse and the device that would take Gracie to them in Rumplestiltskin’s suit pocket.

Gideon hadn’t stopped fidgeting since his mother had dug up the information on Little Gracie’s parents.

“They worked at a hotel in Savannah where Gracie’s charm was the main attraction.” Belle read. “After her death, her parents returned to Boston. The Mother died in 1913 and the father followed six years later. They were buried in Albany, New York.” Belle frowned sadly. “No wonder the poor child isn’t at rest. She’s so far away from her parents.”

“What kind of a man has a statue made of his child but then moves 1000 miles from them?” Rumplestiltskin grumbled.

“Don’t judge them Rumple.” Belle chastised. “They were grieving. It mustn’t have been easy tending to their only child’s grave. They must have meant to come back.”

Gideon took his mother’s hand. “I’m sure they did mom.”

Rumplestiltskin sighed, deciding not to press the issue any further. “Well, we know where they are now, now I just have to find a spell that can move Gracie to them.”

Gideon raised an curious eyebrow. “I don’t think we can…dig her up dad. That’s gruesome and just wrong.”

“Her body, I’m afraid, would no longer be salvageable. It’s her spirit we’ll have to transport. Come with me to the library.”

Belle and Gideon followed, both uneasy at the idea of Rumplestiltskin using magic for something this painstaking.

Rumplestiltskin led them to the library and climbed the ladder to one of the top shelves were some of Belle’s least-read books were.

“After the Black Fairy’s defeat,” Rumplestiltskin stated, “I began hiding some of my more dangerous artifacts in places any future enemies would be less inclined to look.” He found what he was looking for and retreated down the ladder, turning to show his family the object in question.

Belle cocked one of her hips in disapproval. “You’ve been using Pandora’s box as a paperweight for my books?”

Rumplestiltskin smiled sheepishly. “It did its job.”

“But will it work?” Gideon inquired. “And…is it safe? Is there something in there that could hurt her?”

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. “I was in this thing once, but I saw nothing in there that could be harmful. It’s more of prison than anything. And as a spirit…”

Gideon nodded, but looked forward to the moment Little Gracie would be out of that thing for good.

“I guess now we order the plane tickets?”

“On it.” Belle stated. “Coach fine with everyone?”

After a lengthy wait and a near-severe disturbance from airport security, the Golds were on their way back to Savannah, Georgia, a trip that was now more unnerving than mystical for the family.

The next day they were making their way through the lines of gravestones looking for the famed grave of Gracie Watson. Belle and Rumplestiltskin noted that their son was looking increasingly pale and were both ready to call this thing off and take their boy somewhere to rest.

Suddenly, Gideon stopped, a small smile spreading over his face. “There she is.”

Belle and Rumplestiltskin followed their son to the black gate entrapping Little Gracie’s statue. The toys and other treasures that had once decorated her grave were gone, and Gideon wondered who would take such offerings from a child’s grave.

“Gracie?” Gideon whispered through the gate. “Gracie are you there?”

Belle and Rumple watched their son warily, wondering now if this truly was just Gideon’s mind playing tricks on him.

“Gracie.” Gideon said. “I know I…I didn’t come back. I’m so sorry. I thought you weren’t real and I just let you go. But I’m back now! I’m going to keep our promise. I’m going to take you home.”

Gideon received no response and just stared at the statue until his mother placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Honey, let’s go back to the hotel.” She soothed. “Maybe…maybe we can try again tomorrow.”

Gideon’s grip tightened on the gate bars. He knew that tone. It was her “forget about this Gideon” tone.

“No.” Gideon fought, pulling from her grip. “I can’t leave her waiting again.”

With that, he began pulling at the gate, and then the lock until his father grabbed him and pulled him back.

“Son stop this before someone sees!”

Gideon forced himself from his father’s grip and made another go at the gate, this time grabbing a hold of it and jumping to the other side.

Belle covered her mouth and searched around to make sure they hadn’t been seen. It was getting late and security would be coming around any moment now.

Gideon came face to face with the statue, seeing the cracks and blemishes 200 years of weather had put on Gracie’s form.

“Gracie…” Gideon begged. He was so tired. “Please. Let me help you.”

A sound in the bushes caused Gideon to jump. Something had moved behind the statue. He eased carefully behind the stone and froze at what he saw.

“Gracie?”

The little girl moved further away until she was pressed into the corner of the gate.

“It’s okay.” Gideon soothed, having to swallow tears of relief. “It’s me, Gideon.”

“G-Gideon? You’re so big now…”

“Yeah.” Gideon knelt to her level, reaching for her small hand. “I’m sorry I was away for so long.”

Little Gracie hesitated but soon carefully reached for Gideon’s hands. Gideon gasped when her cold fingers touched his own.

“Gideon!” Rumplestiltskin hissed.

“Who’s that?” Gracie whispered uneasily.

“My dad.” Gideon answered. “He and my mom are going to help you find your parents.”

“You mean it?” Gracie gasped.

Gideon nodded. “I pinkie-promised didn’t I?”

Belle and Rumplestiltskin watched as their son crouched behind Little Gracie’s statue. He needed to get out of there now.

With a growl Rumplestiltskin dug his lock-picking kit from his pocket and began to pick at the gate lock.

“We are all going to jail.” Belle muttered.

Just as the lock was cooperating, Gideon stepped out from behind the statue and, to his parents shock, pulled a little girl out with him.

Rumplestiltskin dropped his lock pick and ran to his wife’s side. “What on earth…”

Gideon smiled. “Mother, Father, this is Gracie. Gracie, these are my parents.”

“Hi.” Gracie greeted quietly.

Rumplestiltskin and Belle waved uncertainly, both not quite believing what they were seeing.

Gideon led Gracie closer. The moment Belle saw her large, sad eyes her motherly instincts kicked in and she knelt to the child’s level.

“Hello sweetheart.” Belle greeted. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Little Gracie managed a smile. Very few could not be flattered by the charm of Belle French-Gold. Her eyes turned to Rumplestiltskin next. He looked scary but he had kind eyes like Gideon.

Rumplestiltskin managed a small smile for the sake of the child’s comfort. “Yes. Now let’s see about getting this gate unlocked.”

Little Gracie took a step back as Rumplestiltskin finished with the lock and pulled the heavy chain off the gate, opening in and extinguishing the barrier between the mortals and the spirit.

Gideon stepped out first, patiently waiting as Gracie took her tentative steps into the open. Soon she was by Gideon’s side again and somehow seemed to have just a bit more color to her cheeks.

“You’re doing great.” Gideon encouraged.

Gracie nodded. “Can I see my parents now?”

Gideon crouched to her level. “You see Gracie, your parents are in a faraway place.” He explained. “We’re going to get you to them, but we need you to be as brave as you can, because this next part may be a little scary.”

Gracie nodded. She wasn’t afraid. Well, she had been a little scared when she got sick but…

Gideon nodded to his father who pulled Pandora’s Box out.

“This is a magical box.” Rumplestiltskin explained. “We can put you in here and take you to your parents without you getting hurt.”

Little Gracie tilted her head. “How am I going to get in there?”

“That’s the magical part.” Rumplestiltskin winked. “Are you ready?”

Gracie looked to Gideon. “You’re really taking me to them?”

Gideon nodded. “Yeah. We’re on our way.”

Gracie reached out and wrapped her small arms around Gideon’s neck. Gideon tensed. She felt almost warmer.

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

The two separated and Gideon stepped away, allowing his father to secure Gracie in Pandora’s Box.

“Okay.” Rumplestiltskin said when it was complete.

Belle wiped her eyes. “To New York then?”

“Yes, we’ll get tickets in the morning then-”

“Hey!”

The Golds shot around to see a security guard bounding towards them.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

They glanced back to the open gate and tensed.

“Oh no…”

-.-.-

After bribing the security handsomely (in which Belle’s charm once again came in handy), Rumplestiltskin ushered his family back to the hotel.

They were up at dawn and on the flight to Albany, New York by noon. Gideon had managed to get Pandora’s Box onto the flight with less fuss from security than last time.

His parents were happy that he was calmer now that the first part of their journey was over, but there was still this look of guilt in his eyes. Because he was anxious enough, they decided not to push him into a conversation about his feelings.

The following day they were checking into their hotel room and looking up instructions for the famed Albany Rural Cemetery.

“Are we there yet?” Gideon sighed.

Belle snorted. “Almost dear. Section 105 is just up ahead.”

Rumplestiltskin looked around. There weren’t many tourists out in the heat thankfully, but they still had to be careful not to attract too much attention.

“Here they are.” Belle said at last. “Wales J Watson (1856 -1919) and Margaret Frances Watson (1856 -1913).”

“We found them Gracie.” Gideon whispered to the box. “You’re almost home.”

Rumplestiltskin looked around as if he were expecting the Watsons to suddenly appear.

“Do you…see them?” Belle asked Gideon.

Gideon looked around, trying to sense them or something that could bring them to him. But he could. Gracie had revealed herself to him because she felt safe near a fellow child. Her parents didn’t know him as an adult.

“No, but maybe they’ll appear if Gracie’s here.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded and took the box from his son. Belle moved to Gideon’s side.

Little Gracie appeared in a flurry of light and gasped, blinking several times to adjust to her new surroundings.

“Gideon!” she cheered.

“Hey Gracie.” Gideon greeted, kneeling to her level.

Gideon jogged up to him, turning one of her bright smiles to Belle and Rumplestiltskin. “Did you find them? Did you find my parents?”

Gideon glanced at the two graves behind her. They were barren and unkept and Gideon suddenly wondered if they had moved on long ago, hoping their daughter would be on the other side.

“I…”

“Gracie?”

The Gold’s and Little Gracie shot around to see two people standing at the Watson’s graves. They were as pale as Gracie and in the same style of clothing as her.

The man stepped forward, his eyes wide and glassy with tears. “Is it truly you? My Little Gracie?”

“Papa!”

Belle covered her mouth as she watched Little Gracie bound into her sobbing father’s arms.

“Oh my sweet angel.” He sobbed. “You’re finally here…”

Gideon stood and stepped back to stand beside his parents. His mother couldn’t contain her tears of joy and his father was comforting her; and though he would deny it later, there were tears of joy in his own eyes. Years ago he would have been tearing apart families like this, but now he was putting one back together.

Mrs. Watson looked up at the Golds, staring at them in such awe like they were angels. Her eyes seemed to focus on Belle the most, a fellow mother who traveled across the states just to reunite a stranger with their child.

“Thank you.” She said. Two little words that lifted centuries of a mother’s grief and pain and vanished them into thin air.

Belle nodded.

“Let’s go home.” Mr. Watson said when he composed himself. “We can go now…”

“Where are we going Papa?” Little Gracie asked when she took her parents hands.

“To the greatest hotel in heaven.” Mr. Watson stated.

The Gold’s watched as the Watson’s began to travel to what could only be the afterlife. Eternal happiness for the family.

“Wait!” Gideon called out suddenly.

The Watson’s paused, turning to Gideon.

“There’s um...” Gideon swallowed hard. “There’s this boy over there. He has blue eyes and brown hair.” Gideon quickly wiped away a stray tear. “His name is Roderick. If you see him over there…could you...” He paused to steady his breathing. “Could you tell him Gideon said sorry…and that I miss him?”

Little Gracie tilted her head curiously and glanced up to her father as if he had the answer.

“We’ll tell him.” Mr. Watson smiled.

“Thank you.” Gideon sighed, feeling like he could breathe for the first time in so long. “Thank you so much.”

“Bye Gideon!” Little Gracie called out, unwilling to let go of her parent’s hands now that she finally had them in her own again.

The Golds watched them until they vanished. The air was different now, less dense and more breathable. For a moment there was no heat or irritation but just a consuming feeling of peace among the wee family.

Rumplestiltskin placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and pulled him into his and Belle’s arm.

“I’m so proud of you Gideon.” Belle said. “My brave hero.”

Gideon smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Either of you.”

Rumplestiltskin separated from the family hug but kept his arms around them as he led them from the cemetery.

“Well, now that we’re temporarily banned from Savannah, Georgia and possibly the Hilton airport, where do you want to go next?”

Belle and Gideon laughed.

“I honestly wouldn’t mind going home and sleeping for the next week.” Belle said.

“Sounds like a winner to me.” Gideon agreed.

Rumplestiltskin pulled his keys from his pocket. “Home it is then.”

-,-,-,-,-,-,-

For the full story of Little Gracie Watson go to:

http://discoverhistoricamericatours.com/savannah/historic-people/little-gracie/

#rumbelle #rumbelleedit #rumbelle summer vacation #rumbelle fic #Rumplestiltskin #Belle Gold #Gideon Gold #mentions of Roderick #angst #happy ending I promise #ryik's fics

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