Once, there was a wish...
To the outside observer it was fairly ordinary as far as wishes go. Someone wanted their nemesis vanquished, so they simply wished their powers away. It seemed straightforward enough. Except that wishes are a special kind of magic that never quite work the way they are intended, and this particular wish was created from the wish of another. That made it unique. That made it real.
“I wish that Emma Swan's wish to have never been the Savior be granted.”
Most people are born into their world, covered in sticky fluid and screaming for all they are worth, but Rumplestiltskin came into existence surrounded by rock and bars as silence penetrated his very being. He remembered everything about his past, but the pieces picked at his brain like vultures at a carcass. As if stricken with a drunken deja vu, duplicate memories, though slightly altered, used the Dark One's power to push at him, nagging and unyielding in their determination.
“Funny,” he mumbled to himself as he stood and stretched. “I think I'm missing a birthday.”