Belle woke up, her arm stretched over the empty place in their bed where Rumple should be. She looked over and saw him sitting by the window, looking out at the castle gardens below in the moonlight.

His eyes had been different before his curse was broken, like an animal's. He'd never said, but things he'd done from time to time made her thing he'd been able to see in darkness far better than she could. It must be hard, she thought, to look out on the fortress that had been his home for centuries and no longer be able to tell what was lurking in the shadows.

She got out of bed and padded quietly over to him. "Rumple?" she said, gently putting a hand on his shoulder.

Rumple jerked away as if he'd been burned, his head whipping around at the same time as he looked at her, tense as a cat ready to claw. Then, he saw it was her and relaxed.

"You can't sleep?" Belle asked, as if there was nothing strange in the way he'd reacted, as if it didn't shred her heart to know why he acted that way.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. He continued to scan the darkness with restless eyes. "I'm . . . getting used to needing sleep again. So much of it."

She'd never seen him sleep before his curse was broken, though he said he did. He'd also said he didn't sleep as often—and that it wasn't ordinary sleep.

"And your dreams?" Belle asked. "Are those . . . like ordinary dreams?" Ordinary dreams were things you couldn't control. They came or went as they chose. All the power in the world couldn't stop you from being helpless in an ordinary dream. "Or . . . are they ordinary nightmares?"

He closed his eyes briefly. Apparently, even in the dark, there were some things too painful to look at. Then, his wry amusement was back. Or the pretense of it. "I have been traded wonderful things by people wanting to escape nightmares. Did you know it? There are potions for dreamless sleep—I don't recommend them. But the price for them—the price I charged, not the one the potion extracted—was less than some of the others. I did warn them," he added. "Usually."

"What's wrong with dreamless sleep?" Belle asked.

"Nothing. For one night. Or even two. But, people need to dream. Terrible things happen to those who don't. There are better ways to deal with nightmares than shutting them away."

"Then, why don't you use those better ways?"

He closed his eyes again. His face briefly spasmed with pain. "Because, I'm not troubled with nightmares, Belle. I'm troubled by memories."

Cora, Belle thought. She had an irrational desire for Cora to come back to life so she could kill her all over again for what she'd done to Rumplestiltskin.

Belle sat down by Rumplestiltskin. But, when she tried to reach out to him, he stopped her. "You can leave, you know," he told her. "Or send me away."

"What, so, you can brood in another room?"

"I don't mean tonight. I mean forever. This isn't what you bargained for, Belle."

Her heart constricted. "I bargained for you. That hasn't changed."

"Hasn't it? You married the most powerful man in the world, not a pathetic cripple. You married a man who made you promises. To protect you. To be loyal to you. I've broken all of those."

"You didn't—"

"I have. Belle, there were things Cora commanded me to do with the dagger. There were other things I chose to do."

Belle felt cold fury boiling up at the dead witch. But, getting angry wouldn't help. "Then, why did you do them?"

He grimaced. "Because, it kept me alive. She believed I wanted her. She knew I was plotting how to get the dagger back from her, but she believed I was enjoying the game. And—" he stopped.

"And you were trying to keep her from coming after me. After all of us at the castle. But, especially me."

"Belle—"

"You wrote that in the letter you sent me. Or had you forgotten?"

"It doesn't change what I did. I betrayed you, Belle. If you hadn't figured out on your own how to stop her, you know what I would have done to you." He looked haunted. Ghost-ridden, they called it in the Marchlands, when the memories of your past hounded you.

Gently, as if he were a wild animal who might startle and run away, Belle reached out to him again. She put her hand gently on his shoulder. "If you hadn't followed through and killed her, she wouldn't have been stopped. You were the reason you didn't do those things, Rumplestiltskin. You saved us." She leaned her head against him. "I treated so many wounded during the Ogre War. I saw terrible injuries soldiers took trying to save lives. Cora wounded you. That's the pain you're feeling, and you have a right to feel it. But, I have a right to honor you for how you were injured."

He snorted. "Really? Without me, Cora would have never thought of you."

"She injured enough people she never gave a thought to," Belle said. They had been to Cora's fortress, where she had watched as Rumple returned the hearts Cora had stolen. Looking at the huge number of them, Belle had wondered how Rumple could possibly get them all right while returning them. It wasn't as if Cora labeled them (Belle, who had already made an index of all the books in the Dark Castle's library, felt deeply offended about that).

But, he had only taken them, one by one. Holding up a heart, he would whisper to it, "Come forward," and the owner came.

When it was all done, he told them, "This place isn't shielded anymore by Cora's magic. Ogres and other monsters will come. Our castle is in the mountains. It has strong walls, and the passes leading to it are defended. You can come with us, if you want."

The people looked at Hook, bound and gagged (the people at Cora's fortress didn't seem to realize the small, lame wizard was the same Dark One who had served Cora, and Belle saw no reason to give Hook the chance to tell them and create difficulties till things were more settled). They had brought their dead with them, Cora and the dead brothers. Then, the people looked at the wounded survivors. They agreed.

It was just as well. There was a look Rumple got in his eye when he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He didn't call it guilt, but he had no intention of leaving these people to fend for themselves.

But, sitting beside her, Rumple was shaking his head. "She didn't go after any of those people, Belle. She let them come to her."

Belle leaned closer to him, putting her arms around him. To her relief, he didn't tense up. Instead, he leaned back into her. "One way or another, we stopped her. I wish it had been easier. I wish she'd been killed before she ever touched you. But, we stopped her. Despite the cost. And I'm glad."

He stroked her hair, then kissed her forehead. Comforting gestures, not romantic ones. Romantic gestures were like raw wounds when they were talking of Cora. "I saw our child," he said suddenly. "Cora's and mine. When she was dying. It was the same child I saw all those years ago when I made my bargain with her. Maybe it was just some spell of Cora's, something to stop me if I ever got to where I could hurt her heart. She always had a good grasp of my weaknesses."

"Could it—" Belle wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to this, but she had to ask. "—could it be possible? Your child and Cora's?"

Rumple shrugged. "I don't know. Time has stopped under the curse. Small things happen. Chickens age. Cows don't. Cora was past the age of childbearing. But, when she had me make her young again. . . . I don't know, Belle. She might have been able to conceive a child. I don't think it could have grown to more than a day old inside her till the curse was over. But, it might have been possible.

"Or maybe there was a future where she would have kept me alive till the curse broke. I thought I'd worn out her patience, but maybe I was wrong."

Belle imagined twenty-eight years as Cora's slave. The few weeks Rumple had spent had already scarred him more deeply than the months he'd spent in his cell.

And he'd have endured it, Belle thought, to save his child—just as he had already endured three centuries of pain and labor to save Baelfire.

"I'm sorry," Belle said. "You loved her, that little girl, didn't you?"

"Yes." His voice was a ragged, painful whisper. "I loved her. I loved Bae before he was ever born. This—" he waved a hand at his crippled leg, "—was the price I paid to survive the Ogre Wars and come back to him." He stroked her hair again and held her close. "And I love you. I told myself what I saw was a lie when killed her. But, even if it was true, I'd have chosen your lives over . . . over a child who might not even be real." He looked out over the midnight gardens again. "All the things I've done, I've never killed a child before. And I start with my own."

"Rumple—"

"If you're going to tell me there may not have been a child, I know that. It doesn't help. But, I'm a monster, Belle. And I'm not even a powerful monster anymore. There's nothing you owe me."

"When I worked with the wounded," Belle said quietly. "There were choices I had to make: who to treat first, how to treat them, whether to give the one dose of medicine we had left to this patient or that one. Sometimes it turned out well and sometimes it didn't. And, for many of them, I don't know if my choices made the difference, good or bad. Maybe the man I gave the last of the willow bark tea to would have had his fever break without it. Maybe it would have saved someone a week later when the medicine was gone.

"The same thing happened to Gaston. If he sent some of his men back to lead a group of refugees to the castle, it might cost lives when the rest of them reached the battle. But, without a guide, maybe the refugees would never make it to safety. We tried to make the best choices we could and we mourned the losses. If you told me it wouldn't have made a difference, that those lives would have been lost any way or that our choices saved as many as possible—or that those losses weren't real, it wouldn't stop them from hurting. So, I won't tell you that.

"But, I'll tell you again, what you feel are wounds, Rumplestiltskin. You've a right to them, but don't think they won't heal. They will, given time."

"My leg still hurts after all these years," he said, but she thought he said it with just a touch of humor, baiting her more than speaking from his own darkness.

"Does it hurt as much as it did when you were wounded?" Belle demanded, feeling fierce and ready to fight him.

"No," he said meekly.

There was humor in his eyes. And pain. But, that was only to be expected. "Well, then," she said, as if the matter were laid to rest. But, her heart still ached for him.

I don't want Cora—or the memory of her—in our bed, Belle thought. She saw it in the way a casual touch made him tense before he remembered it was her, in the way a soft word from her unexpectedly drew blood.

And that's the shape of his wound. Now, who's being blind to the truth? She's the wound and his memories of her are what he bleeds.

But, oh, my love, I would take this pain from you, if I could.

"You can still do magic," Belle said. "Can you—do you think you can find a way to that other world?"

"Oh, yes," Rumple said. He sounded surprised she needed to ask. Then, he laughed bitterly. "Another mistake I made. I told you how my curse . . . affected my mind? It is—was a living thing, in its way. It . . . didn't want to be taken to another world, not one where it would have no power. When it was lifted, I began to see how the pieces fit together. I already had some rough ideas by the time we got back to the castle. Since then . . . it seems so easy, now, so simple. Or it is after studying it for three centuries. It's ironic, isn't it? If I'd let you break my curse that day you came back, I would have been able to walk through to that world without ever using Regina or the curse."

"You—you can go? You can find your son? And you didn't tell me? Rumplestiltskin—!"

"Now, don't be angry, Belle. It's not as simple as it was."

"Why? If you tell me this requires hearts, too—"

"No, no, nothing like that. It's light magic. A handful of fairy dust will light the way.

"But, it's still not simple. I need to go to that world. But, that means leaving this one. Without me, the castle might still hold till the curse is broken. But, I think it's more likely to fall without my magic."

Much more likely. Even if more warriors found their way to the castle (Rumple, looking through a scrying pool, had told Belle Robin Hood and his men were still in this world. And, like Gaston and the refugees, they were coming to try their luck at the castle), holding out for twenty-eight years in a world overridden with Ogres, chimeras, dragons and a thousand other monsters and no magic to help them seemed to be asking a bit much.

"But," Rumple went on. "If I stay, there'll be no one to help the savior when she comes—and she's going to need the help. If I take the people to the land the queen has made into her new kingdom, they'll have to fit in and pretend not to know the truth till she'd overthrown. But, they'll be where I can give them some help and protection. If I send them to the world outside the part she rules, I don't know what will happen to them. They may still be under the curse and unable to age. In which case, they'll have to hide it in a world that doesn't believe in magic. Or time may start again for them. If that happens, when the curse is broken, everyone they know, everyone they love will be the same, but they'll be twenty-eight years older.

"And what do I do with you? Regina thinks you're dead. Regina promised me comfort and wealth in that world, but will it be enough to hide you all that time? She imprisoned you for long enough. Do you want me to keep you locked away for all so many years? Or send you out into that world to fend for yourself?"

And this from the man who'd been telling her she should send him away not a quarter of an hour ago. At least, when he thought about it, he understood why that was a bad idea.

"I'm staying with you," Belle said. "As for the others, why don't we ask them? Some may want to take their chances in the queen's land, some may want to risk what's outside it. If there's a woman who takes her chances on the outside, cast a spell before we leave, make me look like her. I can be your new housekeeper."

Rumplestiltskin looked at her, wide-eyed. He hadn't expected that. After a long moment he said, "But, what if she's ugly?"

Belle gave him a look. "I've always seen you for who you really are, Rumplestiltskin, no matter what you're like on the outside. Now, you'll have to do the same."

"I—" Rumplestiltskin seemed to realize there was a time to stop arguing. Closing his eyes, he leaned in close, kissing her. Eyes still closed, he leaned back. "So long as that's the same." He raised his hands, caressing her face and looked into her eyes. "Belle, I want to offer you safety. And comfort. But, none of these choices offer that. Not enough."

Belle traced his mouth with her finger, then kissed him. Sometime later, she said, "Coming to the Dark Castle to be the Dark One's housekeeper didn't seem to offer much safety or comfort at the time. But, it was a great deal more safety and comfort than I had in a castle Ogres were about to overrun. If I'm with you, if I can hide from Regina, if I can help you find your son, that's enough to start with."

X

Rumplestiltskin let Belle lead him back to bed. It wasn't enough, not to start with, not to end with.

But, it hadn't been enough when he'd pulled her, bleeding and dying, out of Regina's dungeon. It hadn't been enough when he was afraid all he could offer her was a life trapped with just him and a few farm animals in a castle surrounded by monsters.

Just as her words weren't enough to stop the pain he felt. But, it eased it. They helped him forget Cora's ghost. They helped to let Belle touch him and feel nothing but Belle's touch, not memories of Cora's poison.

For a while, for a little while.

He knew he would still wake up, this night or other nights, wracked by the past. There would still be times when a word from Belle or a gentle caress would stir up nightmares.

He had brought back Philip's remains for Aurora to bury. He'd mended the injuries Cora had inflicted on the young prince and transformed his clothes into something more princely and grand, adding a royal crown. Rumplestiltskin had made him a proper tomb, carved in stone. He'd asked Aurora if there was anything special she would like to add to the inscription.

Aurora thought a moment. "After he woke me, when we saw what had happened to the world, Philip told me he was sorry he broke my curse. He said he didn't want to wake me up just to die. I—I asked him if he would have been better off without me, if I was just a burden." She stuttered slightly as she said it. Aurora, awkward and uncertain around people, had trained herself not to show weaknesses. Asking Philip that was perhaps as close as she'd ever come to admitting the fear of failure, of not living up to her responsibilities, that haunted her.

She had let Philip into the most closely guarded chamber of her heart. Because, she cared about him. Aurora never called it love—love was a word that frightened and confused her—but she had trusted him and taken the risks that went with it.

Aurora went on, "He told me he needed me. He said it was selfish, he said he would still have left me in safety if he'd known what waking me up meant, but he wouldn't have been able to do any of the things he did, rescuing people, trying to get them to safety, if he hadn't had me with him. Can you put that on the stone? 'We needed him.' Or—or does that sound stupid?"

"I think it sounds beautiful," Rumplestiltskin said. Waving his hand, he let the words carve themselves into the marble.

She'd needed him. It was perhaps as close as Aurora could come to saying she loved him.

He needed Belle. Unlike Philip, if the world was ending and overrun with horrors, he wasn't sure he could leave her in some kind of magical peace if it meant facing it alone. All the roads he could offer her were dangerous. If she chose the one that went with him . . . he would let her make that choice. He would let her offer comfort when the past haunted him and try to offer what comfort he could in return.

Belle, drifting off to sleep, stirred in his arms. For a moment, he was afraid she'd somehow felt his fears, that they were troubling her dreams. But, she had thought of one more argument to tell him, "I learned a long time ago, when you find something worth fighting for, you never give up. You're worth fighting for, Rumplestiltskin." She snuggled closer to him. "I love you," she whispered.

I love you.

The curse had stopped time. He could catch nothing more than confused scraps of the future. But, perhaps he didn't need to. Perhaps, weak and broken though he was, the time had come round at last. Perhaps, though he stumbled blindly towards it, there was a future out there worth having, waiting to be born.

Author's Note: My thanks to those of you who've read and enjoyed this (my thanks to those who read and didn't enjoy it. I tried to make it good and I admire your stamina in making it to the end). This is where I'm ending. Rumple and Belle are hurting but healing, and I think Bae will be found sooner than he was in the regular series. I was going to kill off Hook, but his death was pulling away from other things. He may wind up a paperweight or freaky puppet alongside Geppetto's parents instead (or I may still give him a chance someday to get himself properly killed off).

Any questions or complaints, feel free to PM me.