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Cвое | Не Бест? Пришли лучше!

It's way past midnight and Gold is tired as he sits in his study, looking over some contracts and re-organizing old files when he hears the unmistakable muffled cry coming from upstairs. About time too, he thinks - a quick glance at the clock confirms it's almost exactly two am. The man closes the fat, leather-bound folder and swiftly gets up from the chair, grabbing the cane hanging from its arm. The babe is probably hungry, and she goes off like an alarm when it comes to food, which, to be honest, is a bit of a pain, but one that Gold's more than willing to put up with. Deciding to be done with work for tonight, Rumplestiltskin turns off the lights and exits his study, closing the door and making his way up the stairs towards the infantry to tend to the little one. While he's half-way there, the crying seems to abruptly stop, but the pawnbroker doesn't pay it much attention - she's probably gonna go off in a second or two again. She doesn't, however, and as Gold steps out into the corridor between the master bedroom and the child's room, he thinks he hears a quiet voice singing. Tip-toeing his way to the door as soundlessly as possible, the man nudges it slightly ajar, spilling soft light from the nightstand lamp onto the wooden floor. The sight which opens in front of him makes Rumple freeze for a moment, forgetting the purpose with which he came up here in the first place.
Daryl, clad in one of his favourite plaid sleeveless shirts and pants stands in front of the cradle, holding the babe and looking at her with a gentle intensity, his chapped, thin lips moving to the words of the song.

Tell the creature that lurks behind the door
If he knows what’s good he won’t come here no more
Cause you’ll kick in his butt at the count of four

Gold feels a ridiculous smile quirking his lips and comes a bit forward to lean on the doorway as he watches the gruff man sing what appears to be a very..unique version of a lullaby to the blue-eyed girl, who looks up at the hunter with open wonder and sucks on her tiny pink thumb.
He's not sure if Daryl's aware of his presence, but the man seems so engrossed with the baby, cradling her in his muscled arms with utmost care and the constant hard lines of his face smoothed out, the strong, gruff voice mischievous and full of care as he carries on with the song.

Goodnight demon slayer, goodnight
Now it's time to close your tired eyes
There are devils to slay and dragons to ride
If they see you coming, hell they better hide

It's not common to see Daryl let go and open himself up so easily, and Gold truly cherishes the moment, watching his loved one put the child back to sleep, warmth gripping his heart just as Daryl's gripping the tiny bundle - firm, yet gentle.

Tell the harpies that land on your bed post
That at the count of five you’ll roast them alive
Tell the devil it's time you gave him his due
He should go back to hell, he should shake in his shoes
Cause the mightiest, scariest, creature is you

Ah, the man does have the strangest taste in lullabies though, but who's he to blame? It's Daryl Dixon, after all.
It's in this moment that Rumple's finally hit: he has a family. A real, proper family, even if they do seem dysfunctional at times. This though? This wholeheartedly makes up for all their faults and ridges.

He doesn't notice the singing stop, but the gruff, clipped voice does break him out of his reverie:
— ...and what'cha lookin' at?
Ah, yes, their little dysfunctional family.