All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.

Walt Disney

A plethora of thick white smoke surrounded him – dense and unyielding. Or was it a fog? He couldn't be sure as deep seated desperation roiled in his gut. Using all his senses, he tried to deduce where he was, figure out what was happening to him. He couldn't see anything but the rolling waves of thick smoke-like mist. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with life-giving air which smelled stale, but completely devoid of anything distinctive. His ears pricked, but there were no sounds he could make out – only the blood rushing in his ears to drown out everything else

Where was he?

Lifting his hand, he called upon his magic to light his way in dense nothingness, but the crutch – his magic which had been with him for centuries – wouldn't respond to his call. He couldn't feel the thrum of it beneath his skin or the lightning in the synapses of his brain which had been a part of him for longer than he could remember. Only the eerie silence of nothingness … neither darkness nor light … just nothing.

He took a hesitant step forward into the gloom, his heart thundering loudly, strongly, his mangled ankle strong beneath his weight. If he was devoid of magic, why was he not in pain?

"Hello?" he called softly, hoping someone – anyone – would hear him and help lead him out of the frightening abyss where he'd found himself. Yet the sound echoed loudly, and he cringed. He quickly covered he ears, gnashing his teeth as he allowed the piercing echo die away.

Where was he? He knew it couldn't possibly be heaven, his past deeds – so dark and twisted – would never allow for him to find peace in such a holy place. Was it hell? No, that didn't feel quite right either.

The last thing he could remember was seeing his precious Belle, concern reflected on her lovely features as the darkness snaked up to greet him. Had he died? It didn't feel like the death he'd experienced before. Had the darkness harmed his little wife? Gods, he hoped not. He could accept his fate if he knew she was safe and well.

Surely, the darkness would have taken over his body by now. He sent up a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening that Belle had fled as he'd asked.

His heart gave a strong thump and he raised a hand to his chest, waiting. Slowly, the beat of his heart hit his palm in a steady rhythm and he took a deep stuttering breath as he realized it was so very different from before.

He was most definitely alive, but with no magic and no recollection of what had happened. He took another hesitant step into the ether, prodding himself to put one foot in front of the other. He wasn't going to find answers simply standing about. He needed those answers as surely as he needed air … as surely as he needed Belle.

His journey through the never-ending fog set his teeth on edge and fear swirling in his stomach. Time ebbed and flowed around him. Had it been an hour or a day? He had no way to judge how much of it had passed. He suffered no pain, no fatigue as he continued upon his path … until he came to a break in the vast nothingness. In the distance, he could see a figure, and he shuffled forward in all haste to investigate the unknown landmark.

His thoughts were a jumbled mess as he focused on the silhouette, plodding onward. Belle was never far from his thoughts, no matter what he did. The remorse he felt for lying to her, the foolishness of his actions, the careless disregard of her feelings. If only he could go back in time and begin his marriage anew. He wished he'd been honest with her about his desperate desire to cleave himself from the dagger. Perhaps things would have been different. He'd never liked deceiving Belle and the memory of the tears streaming over her ashen cheeks as she'd sent him over the town line nearly broke him all over again.

He'd taken great measures to make his way back to Storybrooke, to find the author and have him change his story. It had looked like the best solution at the time. Since his time was running out, the darkness slowly overtaking his heart, he'd seen this as his last chance for happiness with Belle. The brief time he'd spent with her in the Enchanted Forest, in their altered reality, had been worth every minute. He'd been able to show her that she was his happy ending.

So lost in thought, he nearly ran into the crystalline obstacle barring his path, until he was nearly upon it. He was forced to stop and look upward, having no choice in the matter. It was a rugged mountain of steep rock, sinister looking in the gloom, yet gleaming jewel-like in the dim light. Reaching out, he touched the wall of rock to feel the smoothness beneath his hand, warmth reflected in the surface. Where there was heat, there must be fire and the possibility of life on the other side. His fingertips trailed along the rocks as he followed it into more of the fog, hope flaring within him that he would find an entrance.

Meanwhile in Storybrooke …

Belle sat devotedly in a chair beside the cot in the back of the pawn shop watching over her ex-husband or husband since she never legally divorced him. Her hand came to settle on his chest, needing to feel the reassuring beat of his heart as he continued his unnatural slumber. She hadn't left his side since the apprentice had cast the stasis spell over him. She sat for hours on end, catching a few minutes of sleep here and there, his hand clutched tightly in her own. Will brought her food from the diner that remained untouched in her desperate worry for Rumpelstiltskin. Her greatest fear was that he would slip away from her if she left him unattended for long.

Thankfully what few friends she could trust checked in on her from time to time, but the only person she would allow to sit with him was Henry. The teenager truly cared for his grandfather. She'd hurried back from the pink Victorian after a quick shower and change of clothes to find him speaking to Rumpel as he lay prone and still upon the small bed.

Belle had felt almost as if she were intruding upon a private moment as the young man had whispered heartfelt words to his grandfather. He'd talked about things he'd wanted to do with him, of dreams and expectations of getting to know him better. She'd been unable to quell the tears which had streamed from her eyes as Henry had pleaded with Rumpelstiltskin to wake. She'd retreated silently to the front of the shop, unable to listen to any more, giving the boy time to finish before she called out to alert him to her presence.

Since that day, Henry was the only one she trusted or at least the only one who would actually sit with Rumple. The others were to be watched closely, now that her eyes were wide open for the first time. How many times had Rumpelstiltskin helped them only to be shunted to the side once the crisis was over due to him being the Dark One? She knew he claimed to prefer it that way, but if he didn't have her, he would be alone. She knew her husband was no angel, that he was a man who made bad choices, but she loved him regardless.

It had taken such courage for him to show her what he'd wanted for them, so much bravery to give Isaac control over his destiny. Rumpel had been so happy with their fairy tale, and if she was honest with herself, she had been as well. It was impossible for her to ever stop loving him, she knew that without a doubt, but he needed to realize that they didn't need someone to rewrite their destiny. They could be happy anywhere, in any land as long as he believed. Now she just had to have faith that he would come back to her and they could try again.

Belle curled up at his side in her chair, her right hand over his heart, her left carding gently, soothingly through his hair. She leaned down, pressing her brow to his as she whispered her mantra for the thousandth time. "Don't you dare leave me, Rumple!" she whispered fervently. "Our story isn't finished yet."

As her heartfelt plea reverberated in his ears, Rumpelstiltskin's hand fell into an opening in the rock mountain. He pushed himself through the crevice, leaving the suffocating fog behind. He drew in a shaky breath as the dimly lit path led through a cave. Glancing behind himself, he felt untold relief that the fog hadn't followed him inside, but remained outside where it could touch him no longer. He felt lighter, freer, than he had in ages. His eyes narrowed, quickly adjusting to the tepid light as he moved forward towards the light at the end of the long pathway.

With each step he took on the stone floor, the light became brighter around the bend of the wall. Once he reached the bend, he entered a circular room to see a staircase leading downwards to another room where a huge pit of fire was at its center, and tall floor to ceiling mirrors lined the walls. He descended the steps slowly, the fire pit bubbling with molten magma with each step he took as if it were anticipating his presence.

As he stepped off the last stair, images and voices sprang to life within the beveled surfaces of the mirrors. He began with the mirror to his immediate left, entranced by the images of him dying in Belle's arms, his body being taken over by the Dark One and the demon rising to kill her. He was desensitized to the sight of blood and gore having been the Dark One for over three hundred years, but the look of abject horror in her beautiful eyes and the piercing scream which fell from her lips nearly sent him to his knees. He turned his head away and moved to the next mirror where a happy Belle held out a child in her arms, present it to someone. As he focused on the new mirror, the former one went silent. He gasped as he saw himself as the one receiving the child into his arms. It was a dream he'd always wanted with her.

Rumpelstiltskin moved onto the next mirror, but in this version it was Will Scarlett receiving the child. The next mirror showed Belle dying in childbirth, calling out his name. after viewing ten different mirrors, he couldn't take the agony anymore and fell to his knees on the stone floor, his eyes slamming shut against the pain.

"Amazing isn't it Rumpelstiltskin," a voice spoke behind him, "Of how each path you take there are consequences to each of your actions."

Turning his head he saw a blue robe flowing across the floor. His eyes followed it upward to see an old man with a white beard reaching to his chest wearing a crooked blue hat on his head. What attracted him most about the man were his twinkling sky blue eyes filled with centuries of knowledge.

"I know that dearie," he rasped, staring into the man's eyes, "Where the hell am I?"

"You are in the room known as the Mirrors of Alternate Realities," he replied while gesturing with his wooden staff around the room.

"Each episode you viewed in this room can be either past, present or future, depending on the outcome of your decision when leaving here," he intoned with a vacant stare at the kneeling man before him. "So make sure you choose carefully," he cautioned waving a finger in warning, "for when it's done it cannot be undone."

Slowly Rumpelstiltskin stumbled to his feet. Once he got his bearings to view the man more closely, he wondered … Who is this man? Is he a figure of my imagination? Is he the sorcerer? How did he get here?

Rumpelstiltskin watched the man closely as the wizard conjured a small wooden table and chairs, setting them next to the fire pit constantly bubbling in the center of the room. Next came a tea set with a fine china pot.

The blue figure spoke again. "You know it's rude to think on those thoughts without first taking refreshments."

"It's also rude to not be properly introduced when you know who I am," Rumpelstiltskin returned.

"You're quite right," he acknowledged, turning his head back to stare at him, "My name is … Merlin."

Belle had remained in her position at his side for such a long time, her back and neck crackled in protest. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the clock, surprised it was merely nine in the evening. There were still so many differences she and her husband needed to resolve, but she refused to let him feel alone.

Gently, she moved his arm aside and stretched out beside him on the cot, her ear resting over his heart. She pulled the quilt up securely to cover them both and snuggled into him, falling into a peaceful sleep.

"Please be seated Rumpelstiltskin," Merlin stated while motioning him to choose one of the chairs.

"Why?" Rumpelstiltskin now skeptical of dealing with the man, could only contemplate him with a guarded look.

"At my age, my dear man," came the soft drawl from the man as he sat down and poured them each a cup of tea. After putting the tea pot down, his gaze went back to the man as he continued, "it can be quite time consuming, but you intrigue me more than anyone I've ever met."

As they say … curiosity killed the cat and the former Dark One was no different. The man wanted to know more of what this person wanted from him or at least why the interest in him. Walking over, he sat at the table. Sitting there silently he waited as he watched the man take a sip of tea from the cup in front of him.

"You held the darkness of over ten realms at bay for over 300 years, never allowing it to consume you," he whispered looking into his cup then focusing on Rumpelstiltskin. "Quite a big feat in my eyes that has never been done before. Most Dark Ones last maybe a hundred years or less before passing the torch to another. Why is that?"

"Love for my boy," was the only answer that came to mind as his head bowed down once more feeling the pain of loss for his precious Baelfire.

"I figured as much," the wizard said, regret heavy in his voice. "Love is the most powerful magic of all … one which cannot be defeated even in death. He tipped his cup towards the former mage. "My sympathies for your loss. I had hoped he would have failed to bring you back. The darkness would have been better kept sealed in the vault."

At those words, Rumpelstiltskin's head snapped up, his dark eyes glaring at the man before him. A myriad of emotions hurtled through him … anger, violence, fury … and he knew it was a good thing his magic no longer rushed to do his bidding. To know this man had toyed with his destiny and did nothing to save his son. He could have stopped Baelfire from freeing him from the vault! He stamped down on his outrage, however, curious as to the man's motives.

The wizened sorcerer removed his hat as he sat back in his chair and stroked his long beard. "So tell me, Rumpelstiltskin, if the darkness has left you a man without magic, what will you do?"

What would he do? Without his magic to do simple things as he'd done before as the cantankerous pawn broker, he wasn't sure he could handle it. After three hundred years of deals, he was sure people would try to kill him once they knew he was helpless to defend himself. He needed his magic to survive. But hadn't he done it before? Twenty eight years in Storybrooke and over a month in New York City? He thought back to the images he'd seen in the second mirror, of Belle placing their child into his arms. Could it be that simple to have a life without magic?

A slow smirk formed on his thin lips. Yes, he could endure it if need be, if it would ensure the life he'd always dreamed of having with Belle. "I don't need to tell you, dearie," he retorted, "Since you can read my thoughts then you know the answer."

"You are correct," the sorcerer murmured with his hands now interlaced on his chest, "However I have a proposition for you?"

Slowly Rumpelstiltskin stood up and walked towards the mirror where he'd glimpsed the life he desired more than anything. "There is more you are not telling me," he imposed with more questions. "How did I get here and where am I?"

The eons old wizard huffed a short laugh, reaching for the staff he'd set on the floor beside the table and using it as a crutch as he stood to his feet. "You already know where you are, my dear man," he said roughly. "Open your mind and think back to the last time you saw her. Then tell me how you left her to arrive here."

A cold shiver ran down his spine as he looked at the old man. Somehow, he knew the answer he sought, but it did not explain why Merlin was there with him.

"Long ago, Rumpelstiltskin, I created the dagger to bind the darkness to a human soul so that it could not destroy the realms with its evil. I have waited millennia to find a strong soul who could help assist me in defeating the darkness permanently."

"Why me?" Rumpel asked, bringing his hand to cover his heart. "Even with unlimited power, I was a coward. Why would you choose me?"

"The Dark One who risked his life twice to save a town full of people who despised him?" he said softly. "Once against your father and then to have the author change your story to stop the darkness from destroying you all?" Merlin waved his arm around at the mirrors. "Even with all my foresight into different realities, it's difficult to find that one person who can assist me with the final battle."

He lapsed in silence for a moment to allow the man to digest the information, before he continued, "Selfish you may be in some aspects, but when the greater good is at stake, you have shown to rise to the occasion to be a hero. The darkness as you know it will never sacrifice itself only the soul of the man can do that. Even you know, Rumpelstiltskin, evil is not born it's made. You are unlike any Dark One before you, spinner. Do you know why?"

The former mage turned his tortured gaze upon the man and shook his head. "Because I can love?"

"Because you can love," Merlin confirmed. "Your love for Baelfire was the driving force in your life, preventing the darkness from consuming you. Later your love for Belle accomplished the same goal. It makes you strong, Rumpelstiltskin … it makes you a hero whether you can see it or not."

He was still leery of the sorcerer, who'd kept himself hidden away for so long from everyone and everything, yet part of his soul understood. No one should have that amount of evil inside them, eating away at everything which was good and decent. Its ugliness ate away at his soul until he'd had only one gift left to give … love. True love for his son and for Belle. He'd never told anyone of the darkness growing stronger when he'd been freed from the vault, slowly destroying him piece by piece. He'd kept that knowledge hidden away like a disease from everyone in hope of finding a cure so he could fight back. For a short time, he'd been successful … until his wife had banished him over the town line. It had only sped the rate at which the darkness devoured him since he'd had no magic to beat it back. Once he'd returned to Storybrooke, he had placed his faith in the author as his last option and triumphed until it had all came crashing down on him.

"What is it you want me to do?" he finally asked.

"You and the others will set off on a journey to find and release me from my prison. Until then, you are to keep the dark entity at bat at all costs to preserve the savior's soul. For if her soul is taken, not even my magic can stop the darkness alone."

Rumpelstiltskin interrupted. "And just how am I to do that with no magic?"

The wizard chuckled manically for a moment. "The darkness eats up light magic, dear boy, but it cannot ever be removed fully once it has touched you. How do you think you had magic when your story was changed by the author? It never left you," he said. "For a moment, even I thought the darkness was gone, but it tempted you and you acted upon it."

Merlin retrieved his hat from the table and placed it back atop his head, as if preparing to leave. "The magic you have is mending your soul back together, Rumpelstiltskin. When it has completed its task, you will wake. The only reason we are able to communicate is because I imprinted upon the darkness when we battled long ago. Therefore I have in turn imprinted upon you. Now that the darkness has been forced out of you, I am able to speak to you …" he waved a dismissive hand. "…sort of. Once the time is right, we will maneuver to combine our power to destroy the darkness forever."

"Until then?" Rumpel questioned, his eyes watchful as he regarded the sorcerer. Not all was as it seemed with Merlin, at least not to him.

Merlin, still privy to Rumpel's thoughts, could only think the deal maker was unique and would be a fine addition to the team of good against the darkness. He sighed as he felt the weakness in his limbs, knowing it was time to return to his own body. Using the imprinted magic took its toll on him and it was no small feat to astral project across realms to speak with the man. He had not doubt Rumpelstiltskin would rise from his stasis and save everyone once again.

His image began to fade as his parting words whispered through the ether. "Focus on the journey, Rumpelstiltskin … we shall meet again."

As the sorcerer disappeared, the link was severed and the former Dark One's world went black.

Belle stirred from her slumber as the temperature in the room began to change. Her lashes fluttered softly against her cheeks as her eyes sprang open in alarm. Her mouth gaped as she watched the ethereal golden glow envelop her husband's body. She tried to sit up, forgetting about the arm twined about her waist, holding her tightly to him. She tumbled back onto his chest, closing her eyes against the luminous light that now engulfed the both of them.

Belle had no clue how long it continued, but bravely she opened her eyes again to see that it was gone. She braced her left hand on his chest, praying fervently that it wasn't a dream, and took a deep breath as her eyes slowly rose to her husband's handsome features.

No sound emerged from her lips as they quivered with emotion, tears slowly making their way over her lashes and onto her cheeks. For the first time in days, her husband's warm sable eyes stared up into her own, soft and filled with every ounce of love in his newly restored heart. Her hand reached to smooth the hair away from his brow as his own thumbs began to wipe away each of her tears.

His voice was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard as he whispered, "Hello, sweetheart."