Author's Note: I do not own OUAT or its respective characters. This story will feature LIGHT sexual encounters, although those will be forewarned, as well as depression. This, naturally, takes place between the loss of Belle in the old world and their reunion in 01x22. Please enjoy!

Chapter 1

"I love you," she whispered, her fingers brushing his skin, kissing it with the mere ghost of her touch. "I always will." Her lips pressed to his forehead, and his eyes fell to a close. A sigh seeped from within the depths of his heart, and a thousand years of apologies came with it.

"I love you too, Belle. I love-"

A sweat nipped at his forehead, the back of his neck, weighing him down as he woke from his sleep, torn by an invisible entity.

"No... NO!" He roared, patting the bed desperately to find that, in the grip of darkness, he was alone. The sheets had been perturbed beside him from his frantic search, but little else was out of place in the howling silence.

He sucked down gasps of air greedily, almost as if all of it were to be taken from his lips in an instant. His eyes clamped closed tightly - as if he feared what faced him in the emptiness of his room. When they opened again with as much trepidation as there was torment in his heart, the smallest fraction of him prayed that she would appear in a violet haze by his side, cooing as she would trail her lithe hands up and down his back, lulling him into the arms comfort yet again.

As a vacancy met his stare, he felt rage, bitter and roaring, burble within him. He knew that no number of years could ever allow him to shed the blame that taunted him, fetters that had no key. He had turned her away, skin to callous to see the truth that had glimmered in her eyes as she blinked back at him. It was he and his fearsome black heart that drove her to her death.

No respite would ever come. No forgiveness would ever be granted.

The following morning, an unimposing rain fell over Storybrooke. It tapped on windows with no demand, chased cars in the street with effortless glee, and splashed passerby in sheer innocence. He stared out the milky window of the shop, drumming his fingers against the dark wood of his cane. Something about this weather made him anxious, made him restless. He paced, rearranging various curios in his shop, remaining ever unsatisfied. No silver was quite reflective enough, no display was quite dusted enough. As he milled about the tables and cases, he paused, his breath hitching as he inspected a vase of pale china etched with lush roses of rouge and pink. Memories came as a tempest, battering him as he trembled where he stood.

The small chime of the door was nearly not enough to drag him from the waves that threatened to drown him.

"Did I interrupt a little daydream of yours?" Regina asked, an eyebrow raised as she taunted him coolly.

"Interrupting seems to be a skill of yours," he quipped back without so much as a poison glance in her direction. "What do you want?"

"I need your help. I n-"

His palm raised, he silenced her. "I'm not interested today, dearie. Far too much work to be done to play this pitiful game of chess against Miss Swan." Setting the ornament down on a nearby table, he dodged Regina's wrathful stare.

"This isn't up for negotiation," she hissed. "And it isn't a request."

"Damnit, would you let me be?" He growled, slamming his cane down as he turned to her. "Please." He urged, eyes shut as his teeth ground together.

Seething, she snapped the door open, allowing it to make a wretched bang as it shut in her wake. The vase, on its pedestal, teetered precariously, coming crashing to the ground, fragments scattering like raindrops on the pavement.