A/N: I struggled with one doubt at the beginning of this story: whether Rumple, after seeing someone he loved die, would be "in the mood", so to speak. I do believe, however, that whatever feelings he might have had for Cora belonged to the past and that he made his peace with her death a long time ago (when he thought she was indeed dead). His final confrontation with Cora brings him closure on one account: whether she loved him or not, not because he still had feelings for her (or not because those feelings were what had been long ago) but because it's all tied to his self-worth and with his doubt on whether he is deserving of love or not. I mean no disrespect to Cora/Rumple shippers. The way he looked after she died and what he said to Regina seemed to indicate that he had dealt with whatever inner conflicts Cora brought out in him. It's my honest POV on the whole issue. If it's not yours, of if this view offends you then please skip the fanfic.

"So when you look in the mirror and you wonder who you are... that's who you are."

She choked back tears, wondering why the words were affecting her so much. They were beautiful, to be sure, and the nicest thing anyone had ever said since she had lost her memory. For the first time she felt like someone might love her, even without her memories, and he was dying. A heavy feeling settled inside her as Mr Gold whispered his goodbyes, both too emotional and too weak to carry on. She sat there, agitated, unsure and afraid, wondering what she could do, what she should do. She had to do something. Had to help in some way but... how could she? She was barely let out of her room, she saw no familiar faces and no one ever came to see her, with the exception of a brunette a few days ago, but she hadn't been much help when trying not to get sedated, so she discarded her immediately. She had no friends, no idea where Mr Gold was nor any clue about... well, about anything.

She was broken, and useless. Like that cup she'd shattered not long ago, the cup that Mr Gold had been so insistent she hold.

... the cup...

"It's chipped. You can hardly see it."

"It's just a cup."

...

"Tell me about your son."

"I lost him... There's nothing really to tell."

...

"I remember... I-I love you."

"Yes, yes... and I love you too."

...

"Why haven't you given up on me?"

"I learned a long time ago that when you find something that's worth fighting for... you never give up."

It was like a flood, her memories, too many to fit inside her head, all battling to settle first. A wave of nausea hit her and she closed her eyes, bracing herself on the mattress till the sickness passed and things made sense in her mind again. She took a deep breath, feeling utterly and completely Belle again, and it was like being born again, messy and painful but also exhilarating and freeing. She was Belle, saviour of her people, adventurer, librarian and...

Rumple.

She got out of bed immediately, legs shaky and barely supporting her, and hunted for her maroon cardigan and her boots, yanking them on with little finesse. She rushed out, evading nurses and doctors, assuming anyone in her way would try and stop her, be an obstacle She'd explain all later... and demand explanations as well. The platform shoes weren't ideal for running and she stumbled once, opening a nasty gash on her calf and scraping the side of her leg but she got up again, the adrenaline keeping her from feeling any sort of pain. She knew that, if dying, Rumplestiltskin would be in the pawnshop, the place were all his treasures, including precious items from herself, his past and Baelfire, were stored. She found the door wide open and signs of a struggle inside. A glance out the window let her see the Queen, stalking off with a murderous look in her eyes. Dreading what she might find Belle rushed to the back-room, pulling the curtain aside to encounter Prince Charming clutching Snow White, who was sobbing on the floor. Panic gripped her and for a moment she felt herself unable to draw breath. But, surely, Snow wouldn't be upset for Rumple's death. She became aware of a third person moving inside the room and entered fully. Her eyes seemed to take him in by parts, first his hands, bloody, one holding his dagger and the other his cane, then his chest, shirt half open and skin unblemished and then his face, wide eyes, alert and healthy, staring right at her.

"Rumple," she sighed, feeling herself tremble all over, the adrenaline wearing off "You're alive."

She took two steps before her legs gave out on her, using the last of her strength to fling herself at him, both stumbling backwards into the cot behind him. He dropped his cane and vanished the dagger before wrapping his arms around her, one hand sinking into her hair and the other running up and down her spine, needing to touch, to see that she was, indeed, there. With him. Embracing him out of her own free will.

"Belle?" he asked timidly and incredulously, heart pounding with foolish hope. She buried her head in the place where his neck met his shoulder, pressing her nose against his skin and sighing.

"Yes. I remember..." she let out a tired little giggle "I love you. And you're not dead."

He made a sound that seemed like a cross between a laugh and a sob and hugged her tighter, resting his forehead against her shoulder as he breathed her in. Neither moved for the longest time, content to be as wrapped around each other as possible. Her hands found his hair and she petted it, lifting her face to kiss his brow, his cheeks, his eyelids and, finally, his mouth. He opened up to her immediately, determined to drink her in, to consume her completely. She had been taken from him, she had been lost, but now she was back where she belonged and he felt like he had the strength to go back to that man he once was, the best version of himself. The version Bae deserved, the person who would find a way to heal his relationship with his son and protect his grandson. He had been so afraid of harming Henry, of giving in to the coward inside of him, the one who clung to his power and made all the wrong choices. But now, with Belle, he'd be able to trust himself around the boy, maybe get to know him better, and hopefully discover a way to allow them both to live without anyone being anyone else's undoing. He tilted his head to a side to kiss her deeper, slanting his mouth over hers in an almost savage way, fisting his hands in the yellow hospital gown and her hair, willing her to be closer, to sink into him so that they'd never be apart again.

"Sweetheart." He growled into her mouth before his tongue slipped past her teeth to seek her own. Gradually, however, desperation gave way to tenderness and their kisses became more languid, more loving. Finally Belle pulled away slightly, hands on his shoulders and eyes scrutinizing him.

"Are you alright? All out of danger?" she asked, fear coating her voice.

"I am, darling," he replied "And... you remember everything?"

She nodded, smiling before leaning up and kissing his forehead.

"You made me remember. Your words they... sparked something inside me, I guess? It all came rushing back and I was so afraid I wouldn't make it on time and you'd be dead," she looked back and noticed the Charmings were gone "You need to tell me what happened here. And," a student thought struck her. Gold had left Storybrooke, had left to find... "did you find him? Baelfire, did you find him?"

"Somebody said my name?"

Both Gold and Belle looked at the entrance to the back room of the shop, spotting a grown man and Emma Swan lingering there. The brunette's eyes widened, taking the stranger in and seeing the similarities, from the eyes to the build.

"You're Rumplestiltskin's son!"

As soon as she said it she became aware of how she was straddling her true love, clutching him almost as tightly as he was her. Their hair was mused their lips swollen and their clothes were, for lack of a better word, rumpled. All in all it was a great first impression, she was sure. She made a move to pull away but Rumple tightened his grip on her, making a faint sound of disapproval when she tried wiggling free.

"Yes, I am. And you... must be Belle."

She coloured, nodding and shaking hands when the man offered. He was older than she'd hoped he'd be, but seemed nice and not as incredibly angry with his father as he could be.

"Didn't I tell you, papa? No dying. Quite the contrary, it seems."

Ears burning red the beauty lightly hit her beast on the shoulder, commanding him to release her. He refused, arranging her so she was sitting sideways on his lap and then began to explain what had happened. Apparently he had given Snow White a magical artefact that could restore his life as well as kill Cora, solving two problems at once, and the princess had come through.

"You better go to her though, Miss Swan. She didn't seem to be coping well with things and Regina must now be on the warpath. I suggest you take the invisible chalk, lock yourself and your family inside some place and raise a barrier, at least till we figure out what to do."

The sheriff nodded, taking a few steps towards the exit before looking back at Neal. He seemed torn between going to his father or coming with her.

"You go with Henry, Bae. You haven't had much time to talk, and I'm sure the lad would appreciate your company."

"But... are you sure you are okay, papa? I... I could stay, make sure everything is alright before..."

Belle interrupted him with a smile.

"I'll take care of him. We'll go to his place, he has protection spells he could activate there. I'll take care of him, I promise."

Lover and son looked at each other deeply. Belle tried to be as open as possible, letting him see whatever he wanted. Finally, after a few tense seconds, he nodded, smiling lightly at her in thanks.

"We'll call you once we're all settled to see if you need anything. And make sure he behaves, we don't need any more magical shit happening around here."

With those ominous last words, as well as a very, very awkward wave and smile directed at Belle both Miss Swan and Baelfire departed, leaving them alone again. Gold seemed reluctant to move, happy to be pressed up against his true love on a lumpy, thin mattress. Belle, however, was getting increasingly cold and nudged and prodded at him till she managed to get him to stand up.

"Come on. You need a bath to get all the blood off your skin and, frankly, I'd like to get the Hospital smell out me."

Docile as a kitten he let her lead him away from the shop. The few people on the streets avoided them like the plague, which suited her just fine. She wasn't in the mood to talk to people right now. Rumple clutched one of her hands on his own, his grip tight, almost bruising, speaking of his fear of losing her again. Belle had to admit she was squeezing back just as hard. She was relieved when she spotted his house... their house, in a way, and gently instructed him to give her the keys, which he did. The interior was barely illuminated by the afternoon sun, a thin layer of dust coating most surfaces.

Gold let himself lean take a deep breath, trying to digest all that had happened in the last few hours.

"You should shower first, Belle, I think I'll just rest for..."

He didn't get to finish, his true love practically slamming him back against a wall before standing on her tip-toes and slanting her mouth firmly over his. The kiss was raw, even more than the one back at the shop, needy and angry and afraid and he responded to it with a fierce determination to put her at ease, to make her understand she was safe and he'd never let go of her again. Not ever.

"Belle," he growled, ripping the cardigan off of her like it had offended him somehow. His hands then travelled down, finding the hem of the hospital gown and slipping beneath it, hiking it up so his fingers could slide over the flesh of her hips and her back. She let out the most arousing sort of mewl Rumple had ever heard and hitched up a leg to wrap around his hip, careful not to put too much weight on his bad leg. She then tore the unbuttoned part of his shirt open, her palms greedily splaying over the uncovered expanse of his chest. One hand settled directly above his heart, caressing him there.

"You're alive," she murmured, letting go of his mouth to kiss along his jawline and down his throat "You're warm, and safe, and mine."

Her lips pressed fervently against the spot she had previously stroked, her tongue gently licking him. Gold shuddered beneath her touch, making unintelligible noises that she chose to interpret as encouragement. She gently bit him just above the nipple, relishing in his howl.

"Belle, my beautiful, kind, brave Belle. I love you desperately and I need you so much, so, so much..."

He dug his nails into her waist, enjoying when that made her increase the pressure of her teeth on him.

"That's it, please, hard. Show me you're here. Show me you want me..."

She tightened the grip of her leg on his hip and thrust her pelvis against his, both of them moaning at the contact. He was already painfully hard for her and deliriously happy Belle seemed not to be in the mood for much foreplay. He coaxed her to drop her leg from him, knowing that as much as he needed to be inside her at that very fucking moment there was no way they could do this up against a wall. Not with his bad leg.

He thought about taking her to the couch nearby, or to the dining room table but she bit his ear and suddenly all those places were too far away. The main foyer had a good Persian rug, it would do. He urged her to kneel, doing the same before taking her mouth in a deep kiss, shedding his ruined shirt and tossing it somewhere far. He then focused his attention on the ties holding her hospital gown together at the neckline. He undid the knots, pulling at the fabric till she let go of his lips to shrug it off. For a second she stared at it, eyes full of... something unpleasant he couldn't quite decipher and he pressed a kiss to her left shoulder, nuzzling her there.

"We'll burn the bloody thing later, I promise," he whispered against her skin before nipping at it to get her attention. She yelped in mock outrage, nudging his mouth off of her before kissing him again. She had never done so in such a way, so demanding and frenzied, and part of him knew it was her leftover fear needing appeasement and wanted nothing more than to soothe her, to bring her peace. His hands roamed over her exposed flesh, nimble fingers toying with the waistband of knew underwear, fingers dipping inside to tease her curls. When he removed them they were covered in her juices and, on a whim, he popped them into his mouth, sucking them clean. Belle seemed transfixed by that before she pounced on him, knocking him to the ground. They wrestled playfully for a while, their struggles only an excuse to touch, and, somehow, she pinned his wrists to the floor and loomed above him, a goddess looking down on her favourite worshipper.

"Hands here," she ordered softly, waiting till he eagerly nodded before sliding her hands down his arms, past his chest all the way to his waist, where they stroked idly the leather of his belt before undoing the clasp and unzipping him. Slowly, teasingly, she pulled his pants down, not paying attention to his whines and pleas to undress him faster. She paused to remove his shoes and finally, with one last playful tug, he was clad only in his boxers, which she promptly got rid off, shimming out of her underwear as well, giving him quite the view.

It was then that he flipped them over, once again hovering above her. He wanted to kiss every inch of her while she called out his name over and over, and told him she knew him, loved him. That she was Belle, his Belle, and he was hers, her Rumple, her Dark One, her spinner. He wanted to erase the frightened look in her eyes as he had clutched her past the town line, telling him over and over that she didn't know him and that she wasn't Belle.

"Say my name, Belle. Say yours. Say you love me. Tell me what you remember about me, anything. Just..."

He bit the juncture of her shoulder before dragging his lips lower, nipping, licking and sucking with single-minded fervour. Her voice reached his ears, telling him between gasps and long, supplicant moans how he liked his tea, the adorable noises he made when he was asleep, how pleased he looked when their outfits matched and how he adored it when she caressed his nape, lightly scratching with her nails. All those reassurances that his Belle was back with him made him even more desperate, making him suckle hard at her breasts and drag his nails down her inner thighs. He bypassed her sex to kiss her legs, frowning when he saw the scratches and gashes. He called upon his magic silently, letting the violet smoke wrap itself lovingly around her, making her whole and healthy, unblemished. He reached her feet, kissing each toe, sucking on them slowly before gently biting her ankle, letting her laboured breathing assure him that she was enjoying it. He then placed his hands just above her knees and gently cajoled her to open up to him. She did so eagerly, tugging on his hair to get him to straddle her hip, his cock pressing against her entrance.

"I love you, Belle."

He had tears in his eyes but, then again, so had she.

"love you too."

Slowly and never taking his eyes off her face he sunk into her, finding her deliciously tight and wet. He didn't stop until he was as deep as could be, Belle helping by hooking her calves over his shoulders. For a moment they both paused, breathing heavily and staring at each other, reconnecting. So much could still go wrong. Regina could get in the way, Charming could try and apprehend him for offering Snow the candle and the choice, her father might try and abduct her again or Hook could try and kill him. But, whatever happened, they'd face it together. No more misunderstandings, no lies or half-truths. Nothing between them.

He slipped almost completely out of her before thrusting back in, setting a punishing rhythm from the beginning. She arched her hips to meet his thrusts, moaning in time with his grunts and bracing her palms against the floor, trying to find an angle that would allow him to hit a spot inside of her that demanded attention. When he finally did she screamed out his name, hearing him echo with her own, their voices getting louder and louder. He came first, forcing himself to keep up the hard pace till she joined him over the edge, her orgasm followed by a contented sigh. Carefully he removed her legs from his shoulders before letting himself fall beside her, his long limbs wrapping themselves around her immediately.

"You can't ever leave me again, Belle. I wouldn't survive it."

He was crying silently with his face buried in her curls and he hated himself for that. He knew Belle was shaken up too but he was being selfish and weak and taking her support without giving her anything in return. She didn't seem to mind, though, one hand petting his hair while the other grasped one of his.

"You have a deal, as long as you don't leave me either."

She kissed his forehead and made a little noise of appreciation when he conjured up a blanket and some pillows for them. Later they'd bathe and talk. He'd ask why she had still been at the hospital, and what that shadow behind her eyes meant, and she'd prod gently to see if the death of his old acquaintance, Cora, had affected him more than he cared to admit... and maybe ask him to keep his hands to himself next time they met his son. Right now, however, they were both content with holding on to each other.

They would never be alone. Not again.