Belle walked forward, struggling to stay on her feet as she walked back to the house she'd shared with Rumpelstiltskin. She burst into tears as she saw the tie on the chair. His tie, his favourite and hers, the blue one with pale yellow stripes. It used to be their colours, and now all Belle saw was black and white.

With a jolt, Belle awoke. She threw her arms to the side, trying to clutch to Rumpelstiltskin, but he wasn't there. He never was anymore; he was gone and it was her fault. She ran her hands down the empty space where her husband used to lay.

It was funny, she thought ironically, how she only saw the clearest things when it was farthest behind her. Now that it was two months after throwing Rumpelstiltskin out, and he was back, but in a coma, Belle could tell that he hadn't been lying.

The gauntlet had led her to his weakness, which is supposed to be the thing he loved most. Not always, she heard his voice in her head, and she flinched. Rumpelstiltskin…. He loved her. And Belle had thrown him out.

Belle wanted to die, she was so upset. Why had she done this rash thing? She should have made him talk to her instead. Made him open up to her, not scorned him for the rest of their marriage. As far as the little maid of Rumpelstiltskin was concerned, their marriage had never ended. Just… On a pause.

Yes. That was all everything was. Just. On. A. Pause. Belle told herself, biting her lip as she bustled about the lower floor of the salmon house. Rumpelstiltskin was still unconscious, in their shared room. Belle didn't dare sleep with him in the bed, but she went to the guest room. She didn't want him to wake up and see her, and hate her immediately. If he could just let her talk to him, maybe he'd understand.

But no, he wouldn't. Belle had betrayed him, and she'd never earn his trust back after this. Belle hated herself for this, and as much as she wanted to, she could not change the past. She could only look ahead, at the future.

If there was one.

Belle wished she could have hope. Where there was love, there was hope…. and Belle knew she loved Rumpelstiltskin, but how did he feel about her? If it was a curse-brought coma he was in, surely the countless kisses she'd pressed against his lips the moment he collapsed would have woken him… If he loved her.

Gods, this wasn't healthy. She sucked in a noisy breath, and went into the room where Rumpelstiltskin lay. "Rumpel?" she asked quietly, looking down at him as she sat in an easy chair. "Please wake up," she began, her voice breaking already and gods that wasn't fair. He wasn't even conscious and he could make her knees weak.
"Rumpel, I love you." Belle mumbled into his chest as she pressed a hand on his cheek. "I know we're fucked up - I know I fucked up. But that doesn't mean I stop loving you, Rum. You're my True Love, I can't put that on pause." she explained, gasping for air.

"I wish you were awake so I could hear you yell at me again, in your Scottish accent." Belle admitted, giggling a little bit hysterically. "And I wish you'd get out of my head." she looked down. On instinct, she grabbed his limp hand and squeezed.

"I'm sorry, Rumpel." she pressed his hand against her cheek, and kissed the inside of his palm. "I'm so sorry." she whispered again, and she froze as she felt his fingers close around her face.

"Rumpel?" she gasped.