I do not own Once Upon A Time. Although I'm a Rumbelle shipper, I have to say that it was about time Belle woke up and set Rumple to rights. And, as much as I do love Mr. Gold, he needed to be taught a lesson. I just wish it hadn't been so harsh.

This has not been beta read. Any mistakes are my own. Reviews are appreciated.

Aftermath

Chapter 1

Storybrooke, Maine Golden Retreat Apartments

A garbled and confused "hello" came across the cell phone line. Who the hell is this, she thought groggily, calling at - she looked at her bedside clock - nearly three-a-damn-clock in the morning?

He knew it was almost three in the morning, but he needed someone, needed her. "I need you," he nearly sobbed softly into the phone. "I need your help." His voice was hoarse and barely recognizable.

There was utter stillness over the line. Then, came the sound of the clearing of a feminine throat. "Rumple?" a voice asked hesitantly. "Is that you?"

A pathetic, fragment of his former confident voice sounded hollowly across the line. "Yes," he told her. "I'm in trouble. I need you."

A muffled noise of rustling bedclothes came to his ears. "What's wrong? Where are you?" she asked without hesitation. "I'll come get you."

"At a diner, just past the town line," his pinched voice told her.

She froze at that news. "That's impossible."

"I know," he was crying openly now. "Belle used the dagger. She commanded me to never return. I can't come back. I don't know what to do."

Gritting her teeth, she tried to think. What the hell has he done now? she wondered. "It's ok, Rumple," she told him as soothingly as she could manage, "stay at the diner. Get something to eat, a real meal, take your time eating. I'll figure something out."

His soggy reply was barely audible. "Wait there," she commanded. "I'll go talk to Belle and call you soon."

Storybrooke, Maine The Gold's Home

Within ten minutes, she was dressed and ringing the doorbell to a pink Victorian home. "C'mon, Belle," she begged the door, "answer!" Lucy's yellow coat was doing nothing to keep her dry as the drizzling rain seeped through its woolen layers. Again, she pressed the bell, pulling the hood more tightly against her pale hair.

Through the door, Lucy heard the sound of someone clomping down the stairs before the porch light created a shabby circle of half-light on the rain soaked porch. The door opened a crack to reveal Belle Gold's blue eyes, bloodshot and red rimmed. Her hair was disheveled, and her face was pink and blotched. "Yes?" she sniffed through the security chain.

"Belle," the older woman spoke gently, "it's me, Lucy. Open up."

Quietly, the door closed again, and Lucy heard the removal of the chain and then the door swung open allowing her to enter. Lucy scrubbed her feet on the floor mat and removed her coat, taking the time to really look at Belle.

Obviously, the young woman had been sobbing all night. In her expensive, flimsy blue robe and matching dainty slippers, she looked like delicate hell. But, Belle's impeccable manners were on autopilot, and she hung up Lucy's coat without another word, ushering her early morning guest into the sitting room. "Can I get you something?" she asked, as if it weren't the middle of the night.

Lucy, mindful of her bedraggled state, sat on the edge of a chair and shook her head. "Belle," she told her carefully, "he called me, so I know some of what happened." When Belle frowned angrily, Lucy held up her hands in surrender. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want," she quickly pointed out. "Whatever happened, I don't doubt it was all his fault."

Belle looked less angry but still miserable. "He's been lying to me from the start," she whispered. "He loves his power more than me."

"Is that your problem? Seriously?" Lucy blurted out. "You used his dagger to command him to leave town forever because he lied?" She shook her head in angry disbelief. "I can't believe you'd do that!"

Belle flew from a miserable mess into righteous anger at Mach 1. "Don't you dare defend him!" she yelled. Her eyes blazed like a blue inferno.

Lucy gritted her teeth and counted to ten. "I'm not defending him at all, Belle," she answered as carefully as she could. She was angry, too. "But you knew he was a mad-for-magic liar when you married him," she pointed out. "You knew that eventually he was going to tell another lie, pull another power-play. It's what he is; it's what he does. How can you possibly be so angry with him when all he's done is what you knew he would?"

Mrs. Gold opened and shut her mouth twice, blinking back the tears. "He said he had changed," Belle retorted lamely. "He told me that he loved me, that I was the most important thing to him." She broke down into sobs. "I believed him."

Lucy laughed, but there was no humor in it. Argh! How can she be so book smart, but so damned dumb? "Belle, he's an addict, a magic junkie. What did you expect?" The words came out far more harshly than she meant.

Belle looked completely confused, and she wrapped her arms tightly around her torso. "Idunno," was the muffled reply.

Lucy wanted to slap the silly young woman, but, instead, she softened her tone, speaking matter-of-factly. "Look, Belle, it's really easy. You love him. He loves you. He'll try to change for you. He'll try to be the perfect knight in shining armor, but he's more like a - " she searched her thoughts wildly " - like an idiot wrapped up in tinfoil."

Belle's sobs grew louder, and Lucy moved to sit beside her on the sofa. "You have two choices," the older woman told her gently. "You can simply accept the fact that he's doing the best he can. Understand that you'll never be able to completely trust him where power and magic are concerned. You'll have to keep the dagger hidden from him but accessible to you at all times. You can not - " she emphasized the point " - NOT use it against him. You'll have to take it day by day with him. This isn't a normal addiction, and addictions can't be cured anyway. At best, they can only be managed."

The young woman had stopped crying now. She was listening. "My other option?" she asked hesitantly.

Lucy pulled a deep breath into her lungs and formed her lips into a thin line. "Let him go," she told her bluntly. "If you just can't live with constantly watching him, knowing he's likely to go power-hungry on you at any time, you'll have to let him go." She sighed deeply. "It'll hurt you both." She snorted. "Hell, it'll hurt you both no matter what you decide."

"I don't know what to do," Belle told her. "I do love him, but I can't live like this anymore, knowing that he loves the power more than me. That's why I banished him."

Lucy laid her hands on her knees. "Well, then you have your answer," she told her. "But you can't leave him stranded across the town line like that. File for divorce. Find a nice, young man you can trust. Move on with your life. Let him go."

"If I give you the dagger, will you go get him?" When Lucy nodded, Belle shook her head. "I can't then until I get a good lawyer. Everyone is terrified of him, and I - " she added miserably, " - I don't want to talk to him or see him."

"I can handle him," Lucy offered quietly. She snorted once, then added. "Of course, I have to tell you up front that I love him, too." Did I just say that aloud? I must be cursed with honesty!

Belle stared at her for a long moment; her thoughts and feelings were nearly visible as they gathered dignity around her. "You are in love with him, I think." It was both a question and a challenge.

Lucy stared back, answering the question and challenge head on. "And, I have been since I was fifteen, for nearly three hundred years."

Belle stood up and walked across the room towards the mantle. She turned to face Lucy. "I don't want to hurt him, but I don't want to be hurt either." She stood on tiptoe and took the dagger from the mantle, and then she held it out to Lucy.

You left the most powerful magical item in all the known realms lying on the mantle? Lucy stood and closed her eyes tightly to contain her climbing incredulity. Once she'd mastered her disbelief, she took the dagger gingerly. "Call a lawyer in the morning, Belle," she advised.

"Are you sure you can manage him?" she asked softly with a nod towards the dagger.

"Yeah," she answered. "He doesn't scare me. Never has." She walked towards the door, but turned her face to ask one more question. "Um, isn't there a box or scabbard or something to house this?" She held up the dagger.

Belle looked perplexed. "Not that I know of," she answered. "I just carried it in my purse."

Sweet Selene! Lucy thought, she carried the Kris dagger around in her purse like a nail file. "Well," she sighed, "I guess I can do the same until I can find something better." Shoving the dagger into her purse, she pulled on her wet yellow coat and hood.

"I'll call you in the morning," Belle told her. When Lucy raised her eyebrows, Belle shrugged. "I trust you to be fair with us both."

Lucy inhaled sharply. "Even if you know that I want him for myself?"

Belle's eyes hardened momentarily in jealousy. Then, inexplicably they softened. "Yes," she breathed, "if you can make him happy."

Not trusting herself to reply, Lucy nodded quickly and left.

Storybrooke, Maine Just Outside the Gold's Home

The cell phone rang once, and he answered immediately. "Hello?" His voice was raspy with desperation. "Lucy?"

"Yeah, it's me, Rumple," she paused to crank her car and turn on the heat. "I'm still working on getting you back, but I have talked with Belle." A deafening silence grew on the other end. "You are most definitely not forgiven," she told him. "In fact, you're probably facing divorce." She heard a strangled sob.

"I can never go back," he whispered.

"Not even with the dagger?"

"The dagger?" he repeated. "You have my dagger?" His voice was pitched with hope.

"I have the dagger," she told him bluntly. "It's not exactly yours anymore."

Red anger crept into his voice. "So," he accused her, "it's come to this at last, has it? You've taken control of me, too. What's Belle planned to do? Pass me around to all the ladies on Storybrooke? Have me performing magical feats for them all?" He was breathing heavily with anger, but his voice was high-pitched like a woman's as he imitated Mary Margaret. "Oh, Mr. Dark One, could you change the color of my house for me? I think it would look sooo much better in green instead of blue."

"Save your theatrics, Rumplestiltskin," she told him coldly. "You called me, remember? I'm the one who's trying to save your ass here. I'd appreciate a little respect."

Silence again extended across the phone line as Lucy put the car in gear and drove slowly on. The tension and silence were thick. The only sound was a muted background noise of his requesting some more iced tea. She parked, shut off the engine, and waited a bit.

"I'm sorry, Lucy," he apologized. "I know that you of all people would never use the dagger against me." His words were sorrow filled and laced with repentance.

Lucy released a deep sigh and a lot of tension. "Well," she muttered back, "don't set me up for sainthood yet, Rumple. I can't promise what I may or may not do in the future." Yep, she thought, I'm cursed with honesty.

"It's enough for now, Lucy," he answered so softly she barely heard him.

"Okay, back on task," she re-routed the conversation. "Before I can do anything else, I have a few questions. Do you think I could call you back across the town line with the dagger?"

He thought for a moment. "The dagger's magic should still be intact. You could summon me to the town line, but I don't know if I would be able to cross back into the town."

Lucy frowned into the phone. "So, worst case scenario would be that I summon you to the town line where you are still stranded, right?" She shuffled the dagger around in her purse to keep it from cutting a hole in the lining of her new Vera Bradley bag.

"No," he chuckled ironically, "the worst case scenario is that by summoning me, the dagger rips me through the town line, and the power presses me through the Snow Queen's curse like a cheese through a grater." Hearing Lucy's sudden intake a breath, he added, "No, it wouldn't be a pretty sight at all."

"All right, then," she shifted quickly away from that thought with a shudder. "Is there any way, I can access the power of the dagger to create a hole in the wall around the town? Just enough for you to squeeze through safely?"

Gold was silent again. "Regina," he stated with a sigh. "Using the dagger, Regina might have enough power to punch a small, one-time hole in the line."

Lucy's eyebrows rose up into her hairline. "You'd trust Regina with your dagger?" she squeaked.

"No," he thundered back. "You'll need to emotionally blackmail her, or she won't return the dagger. Tell her I've found a way to return Robin. She'll help us then."

"That's not right, Rumple," she argued. "I can't toy with her feelings like that."

"You could if it would help to get me back," he argued fiercely.

"And I could leave your sorry ass there, too, Rumple," she retorted angrily. "You got your own self into this mess," she reminded him. "I'm trying to help."

She could literally hear him swallowing his anger. He inhaled twice and released his anger little by little. Maybe he would benefit from some anger management classes with Archie, she thought idiotically.

"All right," he conceded. "I apologize. Again," he added with real sincerity. "You'll have to ask her to help outright, but don't expect her to agree. She'll want something in return."

"Well, maybe you can change the color of her house from white to pink," she suggested.

"Oh, ha, ha," he responded without any real humor at all.

"Another question," she returned the conversation back on track. "Will your powers return once you're back here?"

"They should," he answered, "once I'm reunited with the dagger."

Lucy brushed that last aside. "By the way, do you have a scabbard or holster for the damned thing?"

"No." She could hear the puzzlement in his voice. "I always kept it wrapped in a silk cloth and locked in the vault in my shop."

Lucy snorted softly. "Well, we're going to need a better arrangement than that," she asserted. "I'm not carrying it around in my purse like an overgrown nail file like your soon-to-be ex-wife did."

"I see," he answered softly.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Rumple," her voice softened at his name, "I'll call you when we get to the town line. You just hold on and order a big desert, okay?"