A/N: This is my first writing for Once Upon a Time. I hope you like it!

Started: Thursday, October 25, 2012

Draft Finished: Saturday, October 27, 2012

Fiction: Continuation

Rated: PG-13

Disclaimer: The character and names of Once Upon a Time belongs to ABC. This story belongs to me.

TV Series: Once Upon a Time

Pairings: Rumbelle

Genre: Drama/Comfort/Hurt

Summary: An asteroid is heading toward Earth and Belle finds herself on a road trip with her neighbor, Mr. Gold, in an attempt to reunite him with his son before the world ends. Loosely based on the movie, Seeking a Friend for the End of the World.

Part One

The Messenger

The whole world was going to end in two weeks. The threat? An asteroid. It's destination? Planet Earth. The world should be in total chaos, but the only chaotic thing these days was the traffic. With only days to live, everyone was rushing to be with their families in any way they can, and driving was the best option.

Despite Earth's imminent demise, Belle French went about her routine like it was any other day. She would wake up in the morning, get ready for work, come home and make herself dinner, and read a good book before going to bed. Her life was simple, and she had no complaints, although living alone had its ups and downs. Belle loved being independent and waking up every morning to a job she could never get tired of: being a librarian. After getting her degree in communications, Belle decided to move to the city and start a new chapter in her life. Finding an apartment was the hard part, but eventually, she settled in a safe area of the city with a cozy apartment to call home. The only downside of living on her own was the fact that her only family, her father, lived in another continent. Now that the world was ending, Belle could finally go back home and be with her father.

Normally, she would fly back during the holidays. Flights these days were impossible to book, unless it was in advance, but Belle had always been a careful planner and would book her flights months ahead so she wouldn't forget when the time came. This habit saved her a lot of grief and worry. She didn't have to frantically find a way back home, and she had all the time in the world to pack.

After the news outlets delivered the terrible news, a lot of things happened: communications stopped working. The internet, cell phones, radio, and all but one television news channel were all offline. Transportation became a nightmare and the only mode of transportation was limited to cars and airplanes. Everything else was not optional due the breakdown of the communication system.

Thanks to the threat on mankind, many found it was an opportunity to pursue their lifelong dreams and many businesses closed because people were unwilling to go back to work. Others took advantage of the apocalypse, inflating prices for material goods and food, resulting in the many nightly riots. Then, there are some hopeful people who believe that they could survive the asteroid's destruction and would spend their day building underground shelters and stocking up on food and supplies. A small percentage of people, like Belle, were less worried about death. Rather focusing on negative, she decided to live the rest of her life to the fullest, and the first step was heading to the airport. Her destination? Home.

+0+0+0+

He was going to die in two weeks, and he didn't care. While the rest of world was scrambling in complete chaos, Gold kept himself busy by going to work. His law firm was one of the few that was open for business, and despite the collapse of civilization, the laws still abide to everyone. These days, everyone needed a lawyer. Whether it was a simple settlement or a cooperate merger, he was the only one capable of delivering results, for a price. Gold didn't inflate his rates for his services. Money was useless to him. Instead, he would choose to deal in favors. Those who were desperate enough would seek him out while the rest feared him. Gold had a reputation of being a cruel and unkind. Being a lawyer had turned him into a cynical and untrusting man. After his ex-wife walked out on him years ago, the only thing Gold cared most was his only son, Bae.

He hasn't seen his son in years, not after their fallout. It was many years ago, but his son's departure was still fresh in his mind. There wasn't day that passed that he hadn't thought about it. A part of him hoped that Bae would come back, but the hours turned into days, and the days turned into months, and soon, it turned into years. Bae didn't come back and Gold had no idea where to find him. Sure, he had the means to do so, but he couldn't bring himself to fix the only regret he has in his life. Instead, Gold kept himself busy, burying himself in work and on most days, getting distracted by his lovely neighbor, Belle French.

On many occasions, he would run into her in the evening while he collected his mail. Unlike the other tenants, Belle would greet him with a courteous smile, and he would return her salutations with a curt nod. He admired her politeness as well as her beauty. Everything about her was perfect: from her azure eyes, alluring smile, and kind voice, but he never had the nerve to talk to her. For three years, all they ever exchanged were small salutations until one day, he found her in front of her door in total distraught. Her shoulders were hunched over; her face was almost hidden by a curtain of her deep auburn curls. There was a pile of mail on her lap as she held onto them in such a tight grip that her knuckles turned white. Whether it was the sight of her tears or the state of her distress, Gold couldn't bring it to himself to ignore her. Instead, his feet made their way over to her without hesitation. The world was ending in two weeks, and it was time he took the initiative to get to know his lovely neighbor.

+0+0+0+

"Why are you crying, dearie?" An accented voice from above startled her. Upon hearing the question directed at her, Belle looked up to find her neighbor looming over her. She was shocked to say the least, realizing that this was the very first time she had heard him speak. He stood unwaveringly in his tailored suit as he leaned heavily on his cane. Knowing that it was rude to keep him waiting, she wiped the tears streaming down her face, trying to make herself presentable. Then, setting the pile of mail on the floor, she stood up and began to form an answer, but before she could, a heaving sob overcame her and she threw her arms around her neighbor, clinging to him like her life depended on it.

"They cancelled my flight," she managed to choke out. "I booked it months ago, and they just cancelled it." At that moment, all Belle could think of was the fact life was unfair. Sure, they were going to die pretty soon, but the injustice she faced today was pretty high on the ladder of 'suckage'.

"There will be other flights," he stated, gently stroking her hair as he tried to calm her down.

"I was told that there won't be any other flights," Belle exclaimed, stifling the anger that was rising inside of her. Even though she had booked her flight in advance, the airline refused to let her board because of their new policy on priority flights. Apparently, her seat was given to an important official, and since it was the last flight out, she had no way of getting home. "Now, I can't be with my father." Her neighbor was silent and after a good minute, she felt his fingers lifting up her chin to face him.

"Tell you what," his thumb wiped the remaining tears running down her cheek. "Why don't you come in and we can talk about it and see if there is another way to get you home?" It was then Belle realized how close they were standing. Feeling embarrassed that she had made a spectacle of herself Belle gave him a reluctant nod and pulled away so he could unlock the door to his apartment.

Quietly, Belle bent down and gathered up her large pile of mail that she had neglected to collect for over a month, and followed him through the threshold, dragging her suitcase along. His apartment was much bigger than her apartment and everything was neatly arranged. His furnishings were mismatched, yet somehow they suited the place, like missing parts of a puzzle.

"Please," he gestured to the living room. "Sit down." Leaving the suitcase near the door, Belle took a seat on the couch and placed the pile of mail on the mahogany coffee table. The apartment was warm thanks to the summer season, and the windows were all drawn, emitting the last light of the setting sun.

"Thank you." Her neighbor closed the door and appeared before her, standing across the room.

"Would you like some tea?" At the mention of a drink, Belle realized how hoarse her throat was from the crying. Gingerly, she nodded her head.

"Yes, that would be lovely." He gave her a small grin and turned away to the kitchen.

"I'll be right back."

It had been a long time since Gold had company. He never thought in a million years that his guest would be the woman from across the hall. Helping a damsel in distress was the last thing on his mind, however he felt obligated after seeing her in such sorrow. His dark eyes peered over to the entry way, making sure that his old eyes did not deceive him. She was indeed in his apartment with her guard down. She was certainly brave; he'd give her that, seeing how she would enter a stranger's flat without batting an eye. She was also a little too trusting for her own good. After many long years of being a lawyer, the look of innocence was something Gold rarely encountered, but when he looked her, he could see it in her eyes.

Gold filled up kettle with water and placed it on the stove. Opening his cabinets, he measured a few of tablespoons of dried leaves into his only teapot, an old antique that he acquired many years ago. By the time he procured the cream, sugar, cups, and saucers, the water was done boiling. He let the tea steep for five minutes before placing the delicate tea set on a tray. Every once in a while he would steal a glance at his guest, noting how quiet she had been since she entered his apartment. The young brunette was preoccupied, quietly shifting through her mail to keep herself busy. Inwardly, he was glad that she wasn't one of those busy body females who would go snooping around and touching his things. There was nothing he craved more than privacy.

With his hands full, Gold left his cane leaning against the kitchen wall as he returned to his guest. Immediately after setting the tray down on the coffee table, he poured her a cup of tea.

"Here you go, love." Her delicate fingers brushed against his hand as she took hold of the saucer; they were soft like velvet.

"Thank you, um. . ."

"Mr. Gold," he supplied, taking a seat across from her.

"I'm Belle," she told him, giving him a warm smile, "Belle French." Automatically, he returned the gesture and began to make himself a cup of tea.

"Yes, I know." He reached to over to grab the tongs, placing two sugars in his cup. "Do you like sugar with your tea, dearie?"

"Yes, please." Gold let Belle pour her own cream, and she took a delicate sip before asking him, "How do you know my name?"

Stirring his tea, he set down his spoon before answering her. "It's my job to know."

"What is your job?" Her brows knitted together in bewilderment.

"I'm the proprietor of this building." Upon those words, Gold watched as the teacup slip through Belle's fingers. Whether it was out of clumsiness or shock, he couldn't tell. The brunette was quick in her recovery and looked down at her feet. He inclined his head and saw her worried expression as she retrieved the fallen cup.

"I'm so sorry," she exclaimed, anxiously held the cup before him. "It's chipped." Gold didn't bother to look at the damage. Instead, his eyes were focused on the way she nervously bit her lip. It was an innocent action, but the way she did it made his throat dry. Looking into her bright doe eyes, Gold gave her a small smile, letting her know that he was not angry with her.

"No need to fret," he stated, pulling the teacup from her. "It's just a cup."

"Right," Belle whispered in dismay, clearly guilty that she had damaged an antique teacup.

"I'll get you another cup." Gold stood up and quickly moved toward the kitchen. Instead of tossing it in the bin, he placed it in the sink. The chipped teacup was the only evidence he had in proving that Belle was not an hallucination. There was a quality to her that he found endearing. Everything about her was so genuine, down to her open personality that reflected no hidden agenda. It was a rare sight for him to witness such honesty after so many long years of being a lawyer.

When he returned to the living room with a new cup and saucer, Gold noticed that Belle was out of her seat. She was bent over, admiring his collect of old books among his dusty bookshelf. As she continued to do so, he caught a glimpse of her ivory legs as her lace dress hitched up whenever she'd move. Inwardly, Gold took a moment to reprimand his lewd behavior, ignoring the sudden flush sensation racing up his neck. Her presence in his apartment was eliciting certain emotions that were starting to make him uncomfortable. He blamed his attire, though he knew the reason why he was flustered was standing only a few away from him. Deciding to lessen his discomfort, Gold set the teacup down on the table and shrugged off his jacket. He then proceeded to make himself busy himself by making Belle another cup of tea, determined to ignore the compulsion to turn his head in her direction.

"Are these books yours?" She asked him as he poured the caramel liquid into the cup followed by two cubes of sugar. Her fingers glided down the spines of the leather bound books as her azure eyes observed the titles.

"Yes," Gold remarked after drinking out of his teacup.

"That's quite an impressive collection." From his seat, Gold admired her concentration and how her brilliant light eyes would flicker from one shelf to another. He knew she had an appreciation for literature seeing how she was never without a book whenever he saw her. The books she would read were classics, and among of them, some of his favorites and not some trashy novel that bored housewives would read. Rain or shine, she would have with her a different book each week, but he'd never voice his opinion on her choices. He only admired her from afar. She was young, beautiful, and innocent: all the traits he both fear and revere. Even now, he still had a hard time believing that she was here with him.

He watched as Belle carefully plucked a book from his collection. "First edition," Gold stated, taking in the astonishment in her eyes when she opened the cover.

"It must have cost a fortune," she replied, being careful as she turned each page.

Gold gave her a crooked smile. "You can say that."

"It's a shame," she sighed, "that it won't be worth much to anyone in a few weeks." Belle continued to the flip through the pages with care, pausing once or twice to read a full passage.

"Tell you what, why don't you keep it?" His statement got her full attention.

"Are you sure?" She walked over to him in complete disbelief.

"Like you said, it's worthless now." Belle shook her head in disagreement.

"Books are never worthless to me."

"Why is that?" He asked her.

"When you read a book, you can escape the realities of life even if it's for a little while." She was now clutching on the book like it was a precious memory rather than a soon-to-be worthless artifact. "I find that books are a collection of thoughts and dreams of people who want to share it with the world in hopes that someone out there could hear what they are trying to say. The stories within books can show you hope, bravery, and heroism. They can even help you conquer your darkest fears. We need books because whenever we turn these pages and read the words, we are somehow keeping these dreams and hopes alive." Gold was silent, hanging onto her every word she spoke. "You probably think I'm silly."

"No, not at all," he told her, berating himself for being caught up in the moment. Everything she said was very open and honest, and the fact that she was willing to share her thoughts with him made him feel conflicted. After long years of solitude, he never thought he would miss having moments like these, and with a rather interesting and striking individual at that. Reminding himself that she was here for a reason, Gold changed the subject. "Now, let's discuss about your current dilemma."

"Oh, wait," she interrupted him. "I almost forgot. You have a letter." Pulling out a red envelope from the stack of mail on the coffee table, Belle handed it to him. "The mail carrier must have gotten careless. It's postmarked a month ago and I have been neglectful about collecting my mail. I'm sorry that you're just receiving it now." His eyes scanned the words on the envelope and he froze in shock. "Mr. Gold, are you alright?"

Gold could hear her just fine, but he chose not to answer. His full attention was placed on the name of the envelope in front of him. It was a letter from his son. His hands trembled slightly as he began to ripped it open and read it. Dear Papa, it read. I hope this letter finds you. . .

Belle was silent as she watched Mr. Gold read his letter. Though she did not know the contents of the letter, it had to be important despite the lateness of the delivery. After the news of the world ending, Belle didn't really have a reason to collect her month since there was no real rush nor need to pay bills on time. The only reason why she collected her mail today was because she had hoped that her father wrote to her. Of course, she found no such letter.

She observed Mr. Gold, noting how his dark brown eyes were slowly scanning the letter with controlled anticipation while his brows knitted together with worry. This was the first time Belle had seen her neighbor express such emotions, aside from his solemn demeanor. Knowing that it was rude to stare, Belle gave him a moment of privacy, sipping her tea while she surveyed the rest of his apartment.

Her attention turned to the photograph on the table stand on the right side. It was an old photograph of Mr. Gold and person she did not recognize, although she could see the resemblance. Belle also took notice of the rare sight of a smile on Mr. Gold's face. The discovery was surprising to say the least because up until now, she did not know a single thing about him. Yet, here she was, in his apartment having tea like lifelong neighbors. By the time Belle pulled her attention away from the photograph, Mr. Gold was done with reading his letter.

"Is this your son, Mr. Gold?" She inclined her head toward the thick glass frame. He gave her a nod.

"Aye." Her neighbor folded the letter and placed it neatly inside the red envelope, looking a little bit troubled.

"He has your smile." Mr. Gold brushed off her comment, giving her his full attention as he tucked the envelope inside his jacket. His entire composure had changed. He sat up straighter with his hands resting on his knees; his shoulders squared.

"About your situation, Miss French." She interrupted him before he had a chance to continue.

"Please, call me Belle."

"Belle," her name rolled off his tongue with ease, "I have a proposition for you." Her brows knitted together in confusion, unsure of what he was asking of her.

"What kind of a proposition?"

"We are in a unique position to understand that currency is not worth anything nowadays." Belle gave him an understanding nod. "Since there is no way for you to fly home, it happens that I know someone who could get you where you need to go."

"Someone with a plane?" She inquired in a hopeful voice.

"Yes," he nodded. "An aircraft. All I need in return is for you to do me a favor."

"What do you have in mind?" Her answer was immediate.

"I need you to help me find my son."

A/N: What did you think of the story? Any feedback would be much appreciated!