Rumplestiltskin paces the hall, twenty-eight strides from one end to the other, ignoring the bands of golden sunlight that stream in the now uncovered windows. And with every step he takes, a phrase tumbles through his mind. She loves me. She loves me. She loves me. Finally, he stops, and sinks to sit, eyes closed and head in hands, in the seat from where he'd told her he expected never to see her again. And I love her.
How did this happen? It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was just an idea, something to bolster the dark reputation he'd cultivated – stealing away a beautiful young girl would feed the fear for years. In the normal course of things, he would have kept her for a week or two, then tossed her out, after feeding her a potion to wipe her memory – it wasn't like he wanted her underfoot. Not in the beginning, anyway. Not when she was afraid of him. Then she fell from that damn ladder, and he caught her, and everything went to hell.
She loves me. And I love her.
She'd found the cracks in the stone he'd placed around his heart, and with her little smiles, her curious mind and innocent looks, she'd breached his walls. She'd made him remember what it was to be a man, with a man's feelings and desires. A few weeks had become a few months, and every time he'd gone to brew the memory potion, he'd stayed his hand. What harm could just one more day do? he'd thought.
She loves me. And I love her.
The Dark Curse is still months away from completion, and it is still missing key ingredients. He needs his power to see it through, and now it all comes down to a choice. Rumplestiltskin feels tears prick and sting behind his closed lids as he contemplates that terrible, terrible choice. He has to chose between Belle and Bae. The woman he loves, and the son he failed. The tears come, hot and bitter, because he knows it is no choice, not really. He broke the deal, he let Baelfire go, and before all else, he has to make that right. He has to send her away, and he has to break her heart to make sure she doesn't come back, because as sure as ogres eat humans, she won't take a potion from his hand, not now.
She loves me. And I love her.
Anger comes, drying the tears, and he batters at the cabinet, but the crash of breaking glass fails to soothe the rage against this choice that is no choice. The pole clatters to the ground as he sags, grabbing at the shelf and ignoring the pain of the glass cutting his fingers. His next targets are the tea cups on the table, and he methodically casts them at the wall, one at a time, until he comes to the one she chipped. Rumplestiltskin's hand shakes, but he can't bring himself to break it. Instead, he puts it down as the anger starts to fade. He has to put the walls back up around his heart, because if she sees that he loves her too, she'll stay – and he knows he won't be able to resist her, he knows that he'll allow her love to lift the curse of his power.
"So what are you going to do to me?" My sweet Belle, if only I could just hold you one more time...
"Go."
"Go?" No, oh gods no, I wish you could just stay...
"I don't want you any more."
"You were freeing yourself. You could have had happiness, if you just believed that someone could want you. But you couldn't take the chance." I'm sorry, Belle, sweetheart, I'm so sorry...
"That's a lie."
"You're a coward, Rumplestiltskin, and no matter how thick you make your skin, that doesn't change." I know, my love, oh I know...
"I'm not a coward, dearie. It's quite simple, really. My power means more to me than you."
"No. No, it doesn't. You just don't think I can love you." I love you, Belle. "But now you've made your choice. And you're going to regret it. Forever." I love you! "All you'll have is an empty heart and a chipped cup."
Then she's walking away from him, and it takes all of his willpower to not throw himself to his knees at her feet and beg her forgiveness, beg her to stay, beg her to accept his love. He closes his eyes, and then she's gone.
Weeks pass, and he can do nothing but spin, watching the wheel and trying to forget how he hurt her. Perhaps he'll find her in the world to come, the Land Without Magic. Maybe he can make it up to her somehow, maybe she'll forgive him... But then Regina arrives.
"Her father shunned her. Cut her off, shut her out." No, no, I didn't want that to happen, but Belle could still...
"So, she needs a home."
"He was cruel to her. He locked her in a tower and sent in clerics to cleanse her soul, with scourges and flame. After a while she threw herself off the tower. She died." No. No. No. That didn't happen, not to Belle. Never Belle.
"You're lying."
"Am I?" It has to be a lie. Please, gods, let it be a lie, but, oh, the look in her eyes, that dark, malicious glee...
"We're done."
"Fine. I have other calls to make." Please don't let her see that I'm dying, that she's killed me with these words. "Place is looking dusty, Rumple. You should get a new girl."
Regina leaves, the doors swing closed behind her and he crumples to the cold marble floor. Distantly, he notices someone is making sounds, the horrible noises of an animal caught in a deadly trap, and it's him. He's broken, shattered, like the glass. By sending her away, he's killed her. She's dead, Belle's dead, and it's his fault. He's failed someone he loves again, and the pain in his chest is eating him alive as tears stream down his face. He curls up on his side and hopes he dies of it, hopes that this pain will kill him.
But it doesn't. Somehow, he survives it, and when he can finally stand he goes to the cabinet, repaired weeks ago with a touch of magic and a sweep of his hand. Rumplestiltskin takes out the teacup, her chipped teacup. As the tears come again, he reverently replaces the golden grail with the fragile porcelain. I'm sorry, oh, Belle, my love, I'm so sorry!
A/N: I have written a continuation of this, but I don't know if I should take this off the 'complete' list, 'cause the continuation smells like it's going to be epic... Review and let me know if you want more? - YN P.S All these favourites, Y U NO REVIEW? Ahem.