A/N: Very AU in case you don't notice. I sort of played with this so that the curse broke and Belle remembered, but Mr. Gold stayed Mr. Gold with being the Dark One. Sorry in advance for the sadness. I hit random on my music and it turned up a fairly depressing Dean Martin song, so this is what results. Bonus points to those who catch the two references to his songs. Extra bonus to anyone who finds one I didn't mean to add.
Mr. Gold slowly limped out into the forest. It was a warm day, sunny without a cloud in the sky. Trees seemed to welcome the passing traveler with their cool shade. The perfect place to lie down and read. She would have loved today, he thought. Wrinkles covered his body, hands withered and a face that seemed to almost be collapsing on itself. His old eyes still shone sharp, sharp as the day she'd first held him in this realm. He slowly followed the well-worn path as it wound through the trees. His knee hurt more today. Whether it was the long journey or thinking too much on her, he wasn't sure but either way it hurt.
After walking far enough that he couldn't hear the sounds of town, he finally reached one of the most visited and most neglected places in Storybrooke: The Gold Family Cemetery. Mr. Gold had established it not long after the curse had broken. He stopped at a familiar grave. Not the one he'd intended to, but he needed to visit here as well. His son was buried here. Bae had arrived in town soon after the curse broke and had died not long after. Cancer had somehow managed to infect him long before Mr. Gold had ever taken over Rumpelstiltskin, leaving Bae to come back as a shell of who he'd been. Mr. Gold hadn't left his house for a week after his son died.
Mr. Gold sighed and walked on. Family pets his daughter Morgan had insisted they bury here. He smiled just a bit then. Morgan, the only child he and Belle shared. Complications during her birth had made it impossible for Belle to ever conceive again. Morgan was back at the house, her two rugrats undoubtedly making a mess of his house. She'd offered to come along and 'pay her respects', but Mr. Gold had shaken his head. He wasn't paying respects. He was visiting, visiting like he'd visited every Saturday for the past fifty years since he'd first buried his son here. At last, he came to grave he'd come for. It was a beautiful grey stone speckled with white. There was space for two names, though only one was written. A rose was between the two spaces. On the left was a blank. On the right was engraved:
Belle Gold
May 1893 – June 16, 2072
Friend, wife, mother, daughter
The beauty who tamed the beast
Morgan had always wondered why her father would have written such a strange thing on the headstone, but Mr. Gold knew his reasons and found it fitting. Belle'd tamed him, truly. She'd brought light into his world by smiling, warmth by touching. Looking back, he knew he'd been madder than a hatter before her. Frightening and alone, just how he'd liked it. But she'd come along, breaking that space bubbled just like she broke the teacup he still kept on the top shelf. She'd been his and he was still hers, his heart held captive by a dead woman. Sometimes, when he woke up in the night and hadn't remembered, he'd still reach to her side of the bed, searching her warm body to hold. And each time, his arms came back colder than before, lonelier than before.
Mr. Gold turned to the headstone, clearing his throat,
"Good morning, dearie. I'm afraid I'm a bit melancholic today. You died ten years ago today. I'm surprised I haven't followed suit just yet." He laughed softly, then grew serious, "I just wanted to find you today and tell you," he choked up, beginning to shake with suppressed tears and his voice began breaking as they fell, "Tell you that I love you and that you… You were the best thing that ever happened to me." He buried his head in his hands and his shoulders shook as he truly cried for his woman and wife.