AN: First time writing fanfic in…well, a very long time :P Basically tackling the question of what would happen if Gold hadn't rescued Belle in time. Eventually Belle/Gold, Emma/Neal, with a lot of August and other "world jumpers" thrown in. Will definitely be AU even more so since S2 has been crazy hard to predict (in the best way!) and is still ongoing, and this is mostly speculation anyways.

Prologue

Moe French was not the best of men, he knew that, and seemingly a good portion of Storybrooke knew that, but as the Sheriff grabbed his arm and lead him down the winding stairs of the mine shaft he really only had one comfort- that he had hopefully delayed them long enough, and that by doing so his Belle would be crossing the line that would get her away from that wretched beast. It wasn't the ideal situation, he knew that, but having his lands invaded by ogres hadn't been ideal. Watching his men being slaughtered by them hadn't been ideal. Giving up his only child to that disgusting, vile imp of a man hadn't been ideal. And being cursed, beaten, and yet again separated from his daughter had been far from ideal.

But it was his only option. A desperate man wanting something out of desperation. Belle wouldn't be safe with him, not with that monster going about town- ready to pounce and bribe and beat anyone who'd take away his…his property. No. Belle wouldn't want that. His Belle wouldn't stand for her missing person signs being pulled down, her life being dictated by a horrid creature that would almost kill a man for a bloody teacup. She was bewitched, cursed just like the rest of this town. And the only way of freeing her from that, of letting her get to have her own life, away from that thing was pushing her over the border. He could make that hard decision, Moe couldn't maybe be the decent man, but he could at least be the decent father.

His eyes trained on the back of Gold's neck. Everything about the man spoke of the monster lying carefully hidden underneath. The gold teeth, the limp, that cane. If this was anyone's fault, it was his. Belle had been bewitched, Moe reminded himself as his fist curled tight. This was her only chance. The only way that she could be free of the horrible debt that Moe had placed on her and whatever spell that bastard had placed on his beautiful little girl.

They couldn't stop the cart. Moe wouldn't let them. Belle had to get out of Storybrooke and be free to have whatever adventure she wanted to have. Away from the father that had failed her and the monster he had sold her to.

"You said the rail was close?" The Sheriff asked, his grip not as tight on Moe's arm as it could've been.

Moe's face soured. The fisted hand began to have its knuckles cracked.

The Sheriff, at least, had the decency to look sympathetic. Gold had yet to turn his back as he kept charging the mines after the wolf girl.

"You won't get her. She has to leave town," Moe muttered, meeting the Sheriff's eyes. "You have a daughter. Don't you understand?"

The former Prince pressed his lips into a thin line, "I know that I'd want my daughter to make her own decision. Please, Moe. If you love Belle…you'll let us know where she is."

Moe inhaled sharply. "You couldn't possibly understand what it's like! I haven't seen her in over thirty years because of that-!"

"Mr. French, I promise, I know exactly what you're going through," the Sheriff cut him off, "But this isn't the right way to do things, and I think you know it."

Moe opened his mouth to reply, but was beaten to it by the wolf girl.

"She's close, I can smell her-"

No. No no no no. Moe couldn't think of anything but his daughter's face as she bravely accepted her fate all those years ago, and the way that Gold's face had looked almost relieved- relieved! – that they were so close to Belle's location. It turned his stomach and his heart thudded violently in his chest. No. Not again.

Moe ripped his arm out of the Sheriff's grasp, swinging violently and catching the former prince by surprise. Hardly a slight man, he charged at the monster next.

"You won't get her!" He snarled, grabbing the man's cane away from him and aiming another punch at the back of Gold's head.

Moe's attempts were blocked as Gold turned around, teeth bared in that way that made it impossible to forget his former life as the Dark One. He stumbled, slightly, but his hand outstretched and Moe saw just the faintest flicker of purple before he was hurled against the cavern's wall.

"You miserable idiot-!" Gold snarled, about to descend on him again with a wave of magic, before the wolf girl grabbed his arm mid-cast. Moe allowed himself a sigh of relief, but it was cut short by the prince lifting him up and slamming him against the wall again.

"Not called for," was all the prince could manage as he spit out some blood, shaking his head. "Ruby! Take Gold and try and stop the cart- I'll watch Moe."

Gold snarled, "And expose our backs again? Not likely."

The wolf girl, Ruby, eyed Moe then Gold before speaking levelly, "What's more important, Gold? Belle or beating her father?" The unspoken "again" weighed heavily in the passage.

The beast hesitated, only slightly, before pointing a threatening finger at him, "We're not done here, French."

Moe spat, "You won't find her. Not in time. She's free of you."

Ruby cast him a wary look before sprinting down the passage, Gold staggering behind her quickly.

The former Lord of the Marchlands could only laugh.

"She's free of you, beast! You won't get her again!"

III

The sun was bright as it hit the backs of her closed eyelids, and it was with slow movements that she lifted her hand to her brow, trying to shield it back. Her gaze flickered open, and she groaned.

Where…where was she?

She tried to stand, as something was digging into her back, but the distinct force of something tying her other hand down kept her stationary. Her eyes darted to the strange chain cuffed around her wrist, the other end attached to the metal cart.

She swallowed, licking her lips and trying to remember what she was doing out here, out of her room…certainly…this hadn't been where she was meant to be? She was dangerous, that's what the nurse had said. Dangerous unless sedated. Dangerous to the public.

That was why she had been kept in the room all those years. And now…Now she was outside of that room, and the sun hurt her eyes.

Bracing herself, she planted a foot- and why on earth was she wearing these shoes? – on either side of her, trying to use the leverage to at least get her in a stance that wasn't the strange, almost fetal position she currently found herself in. Had she been hiding? From what, exactly? Nothing about the wooded area seemed particularly dangerous. Not when she was the one the nurse said needed to be locked away.

She turned her head, trying to look around, to get some sort of picture of her surroundings. To the front of her there was nothing but forest, but behind…

The mouth of the cave was dark, and she stared into it intensely. Something about it was frightening, the sharp edges of it and the solitary rail lining…she had obviously come from there.

What had happened to the hospital. How was she outside?

She swallowed, and for a moment, fear laced within her.

Maybe she wasn't supposed to be outside.

Maybe…she had fled?

But how?

And why couldn't she remember leaving? What if-

"You look like you could use some help."

She froze, heart thudding in her chest as she turned back to face the woods. A man stood there, his brown hair mussed and some sort of hat under the crook of his arm. Behind him was…a machine. It roared slightly, though it appeared to not be moving.

"I didn't! I didn't mean to leave…I mean, I don't remember going-!"

The man stared at her, then the cave, and a small smile appeared on his features that she thought looked sad.

"I believe you." He leaned down towards the cart. "Would you like some help getting out?"

Dumbfounded, and still trying to realize where she was and why she was there, the woman could only nod.

"Alright. Don't move."

She nodded, watching as the man went to the machine, opened a satchel, and returned with something silver in his hand. He lifted her arm, turning it over to inspect the chain that bound her to the cart.

"Easy enough," he smiled again, and this time it had more teeth and less sorrow, "Give me a minute."

She watched as he took out what looked like a pin and began to insert it into the lock of the chain, swearing in frustration.

"Been some time since I had to do this last," he muttered apologetically, removing one of the leather gloves that covered his hands and trying again.

He worked in silence, and she watched him warily as something clicked, the chain slithering loose and pilling on the floor of the cart with a heavy thunk.

"Thank you," she whispered, rubbing her sore wrist.

"Don't mention it," he replied with a shrug, offering a hand out of the cart.

The woman stared at him for a few moments before taking it. He pulled her out as if she weighed nothing.

"You know, it's not every day that a girl leaves Storybrooke in cuffs," he said light-heartedly, but she only felt apprehensive, again rubbing her wrist.

"I promise, I didn't mean to leave…"

He held up his hands, "Well, I meant to. And I'm not here to cast any stones." He eyed her critically, "What's your name?"

She frowned, "It's-"

"BELLE!"

The yell came from the entrance to the cave, and she spun around- terror sinking in her heart again. She had been caught. The nurse had sent the orderly after her.

"BELLE!"

She took a deep breath, backing away as carefully as she could with the impractical shoes she found herself in as she surveyed the people who had come to take her back.

A man stood at the lip of the stones, just behind where the tracks hit the sun. She didn't think she had seen him before in the hospital. He was older, perhaps in his late forties, and his light brown hair was streaked with gray. The suit frightened her most, however. A suit could only mean one thing.

"Belle, listen to me! You need to come back!" His eyes were wide, almost pleading. He was afraid of her. Afraid that she had left the dark room.

The woman backed away a few more steps, grabbing the mysterious man's jacket sleeve. The cave scared her. The yelling man scared her.

The dark scared her.

"I. I can't." She whispered, her voice hoarse. As if she had been screaming. Had she been screaming? She couldn't remember.

The mysterious man who had helped her looked down, "Is he bothering you?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, "I don't know."

"BELLE!"

He wasn't moving towards her. He was screaming, yelling with desperation but he wouldn't take a step closer to her. Had she been that terrible? Was she that threatening? She didn't feel threatening. She only felt…

Free.

"I can't go back there."

The mysterious man nodded, side-eying the man who was becoming more and more unhinged. They seemed to know each other. He seemed to dislike the man who was screaming. "Let's go, then. I can get you to the nearest town."

She nodded, not knowing why. There was something about the man who wouldn't step out into the sun that was bothering her. Something that made her want to run far, far away.

Something in his eyes.

The mysterious man handed her the strange hat he had been carrying. "Put it on."

Numbly, she did, surprised by its weight.

"I don't know why Gold wants you so bad, but a little distance never hurt anything. Hop on and we'll figure it out."

She stared at the machine, feeling her heart pound in her chest again. She had never seen such a thing, but the mysterious man walked in front of her, effortlessly sitting on it and patting a spot near the back with the hand that had remained gloved.

A…a horse, of some kind? Maybe.

The woman settled in after him, squeezing her eyes shut as the sound of the man screaming became louder and more pained. She couldn't turn back. She had to…

She had to be brave.

The mysterious man kicked something, and the machine roared. She startled, instinctively gripping the leather of the seat harsher.

The mysterious man chuckled, "Don't worry. It doesn't bite," he looked back at the cave, almost guiltily, before turning to face her. "What's your name?"

She wondered why he asked that. The man who wouldn't move kept yelling it at them.

"Belle."

"Belle. Let's get some room between us and them, what do you say?"

She nodded, taking a deep breath, "What's yours?"

"My what?"

"Your…name?"

He hesitated, looking down in a way that seemed guilty. He cleared his throat, "You can call me August."

Belle gave a pathetic, terrified attempt at a smile, "Thank you, August."

"Don't thank me yet. Ready?"

"BELLE GET BACK HERE AT ONCE-!"

She winced, slamming her eyes shut yet again and forcing herself not to hear. It was a trick. The man's pain was a trick and a way to sedate her, to keep her "docile". She couldn't. Not when the sun was shining and only just starting not to sting her eyes.

"…Yes."

The horse-like contraption roared to life, and Belle continued to close her eyes and pretend the sound of the man screaming her name didn't make her feel even more lost than she had felt upon waking up.