Spoiler Alert for Once Upon a Time's episode Skin Deep.
I wrote this after watching the episode, it touched me so deeply I just had to write this little sad one shot.
He sat at the wheel, spinning the wheel half-heartedly and watching as the spokes slowly turned. His mind was entranced, and he had almost managed to forget. He would never quite manage to; desperately he clawed at some semblance of normalcy. Dreams had been plaguing him for days, and as a cursed being, he knew his dreams where not simply his self-conscious mind running free. Rumpelstiltskin knew that they were windows into other worlds. Time didn't matter in dream, he could be seeing past, present, future, or anything in-between. The young woman who had wandered into his life, no, wormed her way in had been haunting him yet again. When he could see her it was from a window among the clouds. Things where dismal and dark, it was a place that even made the likes of him feel hopeless. He heard her whimpering and pleading for it to stop.
No matter how she insisted on her purity, her chastity, they wouldn't stop. Flaying the skin at her flanks, leaving parallel slashes up and down her arms, her legs, across her buttocks, her porcelain cheeks, even her most secret of gardens were not spared the wicked knife. In an attempt to exorcise the evil that had overtaken her and ravaged her, they anointed her with oil that crackled on her skin and left fiery red welts and blisters. They deprived her of food and water to purge the demons within her that clung so desperately to her soul. When she screamed in agony, the wails reverberated off the stone walls and into his ears. It was killing him. Listening to her mournful wails pleading with the men who were supposed to be purifying her. Purifying her of the evil he had left upon her. He had never taken her to his bed, yet they proclaimed so. Saying she bared marks of a loose woman, that of a harlot.
Rumpelstiltskin would stay awake as long as he possibly could to avoid the hellish nightmares. But he couldn't elude sleep forever, not even with all the magic in the world. Eventually he surrendered and laid his head down upon a goose feather pillow. And sure enough he was back in her world of suffering. This time was different though, there was an air of defiance, and there was a looming stillness. Rumpelstiltskin looked over the territory keenly; he was at the foot of a tall tower. It was as if even the animals knew something was going to happen. In the dead of night there was silence. When Rumpelstiltskin looked up to the peak of the tower he spotted a window and his stomach sank, his pulse raced and his filthy calloused palms pricked with sweat. She stood upon the ledge of the stacked stones. Her eyes were closed and her head thrown back. He watched helplessly as she flung herself from the ledge.
"NO BELLE, NO!" he screamed in horrified desperate anguish.
If she heard him she didn't acknowledge it, her arms were thrown behind her back and her breast thrown forward; she looked as if she were gliding like a graceful swan. And then there was the sickening crack. Rumpelstiltskin was paralyzed with shock. Her broken body lay in a crumpled heap at the foot of her prison. His hands shook at his sides and all the breath left his body. He fell to his knees and could utter only one word. "Belle..." he whimpered. Rumpelstiltskin crawled towards her. 'Belle…why?" he asked reaching out to turn her over. A trickle of blood trailed down her ruby lips and partially healed scars adorned her face in an almost obscene way. Anger boiled in him and spewed forth. "WHY?" he shrieked. "WHY?" He pulled her into his arms and rocked slowly back and forth burying his nose in her hair, even after all this time it smelled of sultry lavender and sweet roses. Sobs shook his shoulders and tears rolled down his ashen cheeks. He looked to her face again and stopped, a look of peace, pure bliss even, graced her features. Rumpelstiltskin felt like he was going to vomit. She was happy; this was her salvation, death, suicide, and all because of him.
Rumpelstiltskin awoke with a start, he was drenched in a cold sweat and he leapt from his bed. "This is going to happen." He realized. He didn't bother to change from his tartan pajamas as he leapt into the magic tear that allowed him to travel from place to place in an instant. He had to save his Belle.
He was back at the foot of the tower and looked up expectantly waiting to see her in the window. He was puzzled, she was nowhere to be seen and all was ominously quiet just like the premonition. He lowered his gaze and stopped, there she laid at the bottom the tower. Rumpelstiltskin was too late. In utter shock he walked slowly towards her mangled body. She looked exactly as she had in his horrible dream. It had become a waking nightmare. He fell to his knees and exhaled a shaky breath. The only person who had ever seen him for more than a monster lay dead at his feet. He took her limp hand in his and kissed her palm softly. Rumpelstiltskin brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. Her flesh was warm to the touch and the rosy blush still lingered in her cheeks. Scarlet blood trickled down the curve of her pouty lip and beaded at the edge of his thumb.
"How appropriate." He whispered watching the crimson spread into the divot of his calloused finger tip. A cracked sob got lost in his throat and tears stung at the corner of his eyes. His Belle was gone. Rumpelstiltskin tenderly lifted her into his arms and stepped into the stream of magic that would take him home.
Rumpelstiltskin washed the blood from her face and the dirt from her body; he took great care brushing the tangles from her chestnut locks, and dressed her in the golden gown she wore on the eve of their first encounter. He had fashioned a coffin from the gold he spun at that wretched wheel and placed her inside. "She's so beautiful, she could be sleeping." He thought to himself. The sun began to crest in the east the ruby and magenta shone through the curtain less windows. The very same window she had torn the drapes from and fallen into his arms.
Rumpelstiltskin picked the most perfect place on his land. It was a serene and shady corner surrounded by trees and wildflowers. He took up a shovel and began to dig. For hours he toiled, every drop of sweat and every blister on his hands was a sacrifice for her. His beautiful Belle. Before the job was finished his hands were raw and bleeding, he toiled on until the sun was high in the sky, until it was just right. But how could it ever be right, if anyone deserved this fate it was him.
He opened her coffin one last time and looked upon her peaceful face he took a deep breath and gingerly lowered his lips to hers; they brushed tenderly, hers smooth and cool. Nothing happened, no glimmer, not a hint of change. He knew the flame she had rekindled inside of him had been extinguished and would never cast such a glow again.
Rumpelstiltskin lowered her coffin into the ground by magic and stood back. He hoisted the mound of earth and filled the gap with it, the soil settled evenly almost level with the sod. He marked her grave with a smooth white stone, almost like a down pillow. He whispered his goodbyes to the wind which carried them far, possibly up as far the heavens or among the sun and stars. "Goodbye, my love."