Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon A Time or the many fairytales/stories incorporated therein. I may add a few not yet canon to the show, but I don't own them either.

A/N: A little background info: Belle is actually dead – Regina's story was not a lie, and she was tortured to death under her father's orders. I intend for this story to be set entirely in the Enchanted Forest realm.

He had gotten low – so low that simply holding the dagger and contemplating its lethality wasn't enough to satiate his despair. In agony, he'd lain awake every hour of the night for the past three weeks, pleading his mind to give into the exhaustion, but it resisted, spurning him and continuing to torture him with thoughts of Belle and how she was no more. He remembered that moment – the sight of her emaciated body crumpled up in a corner of her filthy cell; how he had been too late to save her from her father's men. He kept replaying it in his head: picking up her lifeless body and carrying it into a beautiful meadow – one she'd talked about often while still safe in his care. Rumple regretted not prolonging her father's death, but in his rage he hadn't considered torture. He'd beaten the fat bastard until his face was so marred and bloodied that he ceased to look like the human he'd masqueraded as in life.

"Belle," he whimpered, turning onto his stomach and burying his face in a pillow. The tears had come that night, as they had every night since her death. Only now were they finally beginning to retreat into the darkness, rearing their ugly heads only once the sun had descended.

He couldn't go on like this, couldn't spend the rest of eternity in agony, broken and wretched.

Tomorrow, he decided at last, Tomorrow will be the end.

That had been last night.

It was early evening now, the fury of the sun beating down on him as though it could possibly break him further. His dagger was tucked into his waistband, freeing both hands for the heavy work ahead of him. He straightened for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. On his left was the beginnings of a 2x6x4-foot hole. On his right was Belle's grave.

Rumple looked up at the sudden appearance of a figure in a dress making her way lackadaisically toward him. "Dammit!" she exclaimed, shaking her foot, "All this crap all over the ground. I hate these big buffalo cow-pies." She stopped in front of his pile of dirt and sat down on the giant boulder Rumple had used as Belle's tombstone. She looked up at him and smiled. "Hello. What are you doing?"

Rumpelstiltskin scowled at this insolent child. "Digging my own grave. Please leave."

But she did not, instead began taking off her shoes, which were covered in crap. "Why are you doing that?"

"My life is no longer worth living. I need a place to put myself until I die."

"Don't you have a house?"

"Yes, but –"

"Then why don't you go there to die? Why pollute this field with your decaying body? Who will bury you once you die?" She threw her shoes into his grave.

Rumpelstiltskin became enraged. "Why do you care? No one cares; at least, no one who is alive."

"Ah, so your heart is broken," the girl said, picking at her nails. She shook her hands and stood, met his eyes. "Tell you what, Rumple; I'll make you a deal." He barely had time to react before she dove right into it. "You give me a home where no buffalo roam, and I'll mend your broken heart. Sound good?"

"Usually I'm the one offering deals."

She smirked, "Well, I think outside the box. My offer stands."

Rumpelstiltskin stared at her, at her dingy dress and her naked feet, and was struck by how much she completely lacked resemblance to his late beloved. "I'm not sure you're worth the trouble, dearie."

"Oh, Rumple. Where's your sense of adventure? You of all people should know how much fun a little trouble can be."

He deliberated for a moment more. No woman could ever replace Belle, especially not such an arrogant child as the one relaxing before him. But something in her face – in the glint of her vibrant eyes or the spiral of her wild smirk – had him convinced that she could spark more chaos in a few hours than he could in a few weeks. It was his right – nay, his responsibility – to train an apprentice for the position of the Dark One. A maniacal giggle escaped his lips, and for the first time since Belle, he felt excitement at the hands of an evil plan. "Alright, we have a deal," he held out his hand to her, "But I don't think you'll be able to fulfill your end of the bargain."

She grasped his hand firmly, mischief coursing like fire through her veins. "I know I can."

A/N: The intro is short, by I plan on posting the next chapter soon. Don't forget to subscribe.