Based on the Third Party Prompt by littlebrokenbelles found here: post/41089147639/special-attack-prompt-a-third-par ty
Word Count: 2,763
Rating: PG
She only knew her name was Belle because everyone who came to see her insisted it was, not because she had any memory of it. The only memories she had consisted of a small, dark room, a heavy door, and the occasional glimpse of poisonous red lips.
Ruby came to sit with her more often than any of the others. She said they had been friends before Belle lost her memories. Ruby told Belle that she had been working at the library, and the idea of books stirred something in girl who was once again confined to the hospital. Ruby told Belle that she had been brave. And she must have been, if she had saved Archie - the kind and soft-spoken red-haired man who had come to see her - like they all said she did. She must have been very brave indeed if she had loved the small-yet-frightening man with the magic as everyone insisted she had.
Rumplestiltskin they said his name was. And he was very frightening indeed. None of the people around her even tried to deny that, and she didn't need their reactions as proof. She could feel it. He was dangerous. And he was far too . . . much. He took up far more space than a man his size should be capable of. He was always too close to her. After the gunshot and the car accident he'd been all but on top of her. He had held fire in his palm. She knew she'd been shot but then his hand had glowed and she suddenly . . . hadn't been. And when he finally moved away from her it was to attack another man.
He had come to her later, in the hospital, talking about magic and charms and castles. He had tried to push a cup at her even when she refused it. He had been too close and she could feel it tingling through her entire body. That was the scariest thing. Anytime he was near her, she went tight all over, her body completely tense, as if in preparation to run from him, far and fast. Even without everything else, that subconscious need to move would be enough to convince her he wasn't completely safe.
Belle trusted her heart. And she trusted her instincts. But she also trusted knowledge and information. And everybody told her he wouldn't hurt her; everyone said she had cared for him and he for her. She wanted to find out why they thought that. More information, more knowledge, more understanding could never be a bad thing.
He was gone. He had left town for no one was sure how long to find something, though no one had mentioned what. He was gone, so she wouldn't have to worry about coming into contact with him. He was gone, so it was safe to go out and ask her questions.
So Belle - even if she couldn't remember it the name felt right - gathered her courage and walked out of her hospital room. The first people she found were Ruby and Snow, sitting on one of the couches just outside her room, talking in low voices. Belle cleared her throat quietly and they looked up at her.
"Do you mind if I ask you some questions?" she asked softly.
Both of the other women broke into smiles and moved apart so she could sit between them.
"Of course, sweetheart," Snow said. "What did you want to know?"
"The man. The one who left. Why - why does everyone think I loved him? He's terrifying. And no one even likes him. How could anyone love him? How could he love anyone?"
Both of the women looked sad before Snow answered her. "He has a long and . . . complicated history with a lot of people. He's done bad things to a lot of people." She took a breath. "I wasn't here while the two of you were together, so I haven't seen you interacting. But I am very slowly coming to the realization that he might not have been as bad as we've made him out to be. He's gone off to look for his son; it's a brave thing he's doing, leaving this town. He brought the whole town into being just to find his son. That sounds to me like a man who cares a lot, even if I don't completely approve of his methods."
Ruby nodded. "He isn't an easy person to interact with. Closer to impossible, really. But he was always open to you; he doesn't listen to anyone, but he listened to you. He was nicer, not nice, but nicer, when you were around. And he did care about you. Made sure you had warm clothes. He worried. The two of you fought a bit and he seemed pretty devastated that you were disappointed in him. He gave you a library."
Belle's eyes widened. "A whole library?" Though she couldn't remember per se, Belle knew that book were important to her.
Ruby smiled and nodded. "So that you could have something that was yours."
Belle allowed the two other women to continue talking as she sat and digested that information before thanking them and moving on.
Charming was the next person she came across. She knew he had another name, but she couldn't remember it, and really, Charming suited him, so she used it.
Oddly enough, Charming actually seemed slightly fond of Rumplestiltskin. He told Belle about how Rumplestiltskin had brought him and Snow together again and again, how the Imp had set up the whole curse and made sure they'd be able to get out of it. And he again reiterated how much Rumplestiltskin had worried after her, how he had tried to take care of her.
Next Belle found Archie. He told her a story about Rumplestiltskin and his son. Or at least the man he'd thought was his son. Rumplestiltskin had apparently been very anxious - both excited and nervous - to see his son again. He had unfortunately been severely disappointed when it turned out to merely be a play for power on the other man's part. And now he was off to try to find his son again. Belle found herself rather hoping he wouldn't be so disappointed this time. She only had vague recollections of her father from the time before she was put in the asylum, but they were mainly good memories. She could remember the importance of family.
Leroy, when she found him, was all too happy to reinforce the negative image of the man she was looking for, but even he seemed to believe that she held some sort of strange power over the man who held power over the rest of the town. Rationally, it seemed that if even Leroy, who didn't bother to hide his dislike for Rumplestiltskin, thought he might have cared for her, surely there must be some basis in reality.
She wasn't sure what brought her to the room of the other man who had been so involved in whatever had occurred in the woods, but he seemed even more surprised by her presence there than she was. His whole arm was restrained, tied to the bed. Belle trusted Charming and Snow and Ruby. So if they didn't trust this man, she would be careful around him as well. After all, he'd been the one to shoot her, or so everyone said.
"Well, well. I can't say I ever expected to see you here, darling."
She started slightly at the sound of his voice, but took a moment to compose herself and then looked him in the eye. "I - I wanted to ask you why. You shot me. I - Did I do something to you?" She was honestly curious. She couldn't really remember being shot, and the pain had been gone almost immediately. And she couldn't mourn the loss of memories she no longer had. So she wasn't angry. But she did want to know why he'd done it. Maybe he had a fair reason.
"You? Oh no love. I had to hurt the Crocodile; he once to something very important from me, you see."
"Crocodile?" Belle was confused.
"A nickname, darling, for that little imp you were with that night."
"Why would you hurt me, though? What do I have to do with it."
"Well the hurting wasn't the necessary part, dear. I just needed you to fall over the line. My love is lost to me thanks to him, and now his is lost to him. Better for you anyways, dearest. He's a bad man to be around. Dangerous."
Belle nodded. "I know."
The dark haired man on the bed smirked. "Do you indeed? Well it's a good thing I got you out from under him then. You're no longer tied to a monster."
Belle nodded and shifted her eyes away from him, leaving the room quickly.
He was absolutely right about the danger, she'd already acknowledged to herself that she could feel it. But as she walked back to her room, she couldn't ignore the fact that even he, this man who hated Rumplestiltskin violently, saw her as an important part of his life.
Given the evidence she had collected, Belle supposed she ought to talk to the man himself whenever he returned. Every single person she had talked to seemed convinced that she was in no danger. She also felt slightly bad about breaking his cup. At the time she had just been far too overwhelmed by everything, and his presence had been making her tense, as it always did, and she'd asked him to leave, and he hadn't, and it had just happened. At the time she'd been pleased by the sound of it breaking apart, but now all she could hear were his apologies. She had hurt him gravely by breaking the cup and she realized she was sorry to have done so. She wanted to apologise for that, though not for the feelings that had caused the destruction.
When she got back to her room, Belle was surprised to find it occupied with someone she had not yet met. A small boy sat on her bed with a large book open on his lap. He looked up as she walked in and beamed at her. She couldn't help but smile tentatively back.
"You must be Belle!" He paused for a moment for her to nod before continuing on. "I'm Henry. Snow White is my grandmother. She said that you were asking questions about Rumplestiltskin and I think I might be able to help you."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." He moved over on the bed and patted the empty space he'd made beside him. "I'll show you."
Belle tentatively moved forward and climbed onto the bed with the boy. He flipped back a few pages in his book as he continued talking.
"I know you don't remember, but everyone in this town is from a land where magic is real and fairytales are true. This is a book about all of them, and everyone is in here. Even you. It took me a long time to figure out who Mr. Gold was, but then you showed up and it was easy. You're Belle. You're the beauty. Mr. Gold, Rumplestiltskin, is the beast. Have you ever read Beauty and the Beast?"
Belle shook her head. She couldn't remember ever having done so.
"That's okay. This version's a little different anyways. Would you like me to read it to you?"
He looked so excited that she couldn't refuse him, so she nodded and leaned back against the headboard as he started to read.
By the end she was in tears.
"Are you okay?" Henry asked. "Do - do you remember?" he looked so hopeful, and she hated to disappoint him.
"No. I'm sorry. I don't. But it was a very lovely story all the same. Do you mind if I keep it for a little while?"
Henry looked slightly sad, but resigned. "Yeah, of course. Just give it back whenever you're done with it." He slipped off the bed and headed towards the door. Just before he left he turned back to her. "He's not all that bad, really, Mr. Gold. Er - Rumplestiltskin. He's mostly lonely, I think." He shrugged before grabbing his backpack and hurrying out into the hall.
Belle sat with the book and flipped back to the beginning of the story. She hadn't remembered anything, but she did feel connected to the story in some strange way she had never felt before. It felt like she should remember it, so maybe everyone was right about magic, about her past. Maybe they were even right about her relationship with the beast.
She settled under her covers and started again at the beginning of the story.
The next day she asked a nurse for a bottle of glue and carried the shards of the broken teacup she had collected to her bed. The fragments were fairly large, which made piecing the object together again possible, but it still took her most of the day to finish. She was proud when she finally had a mostly complete teacup sitting on her bedside table. She read Henry's story again before she went to sleep.
It was a couple of days later when he came back. Snow had given Belle a few different outfits so that she could change out of the hospital gown and she was sitting on her bed in grey leggings and an overlarge pink sweater, re-reading what was supposedly her story in Henry's book for the thousandth time when he appeared at the door.
She could feel him, even more now that he'd been gone for some time, and the familiar tension started thrumming through her, but she resolved to ignore it as she got off the bed.
He looked startled when she moved, so she crossed to him slowly, making sure to grab the teacup off her nightstand on the way. He was so focussed on her face that he didn't notice. He started to reach out towards her as she neared him, but dropped his hand immediately.
She held the teacup out to him and he finally looked down at it, before looking back up at her with tears in his eyes.
"I - I wanted to apologize. For breaking it. It clearly meant a lot to you, and I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just - overwhelmed."
He was shaking his head. "No, no. No need to apologize. It was my fault, and I'm sorry for it. So very sorry."
His voice was lovely, even chocked with tears as it was. She pressed the cup towards him. "It's not so perfect as before, but I tried to put it back together as much as possible."
He took the small piece of china from her reverently and shook his head again. "It's perfect. Thank you." He gave her a small, tremulous smile and stepped back towards the door. "I'll leave you be now. I just - wanted to make sure you were still alright."
He still looked so sad, and Belle couldn't bear to let him leave like that, especially since he'd just come to check on her well-being. So she darted forward and wrapped her arms around his waist and oh! That was what the tension had been for. Her body had wanted to move towards him, not away. Because suddenly all the tension she ever felt around him was gone and instead she just felt perfectly at peace. She belonged here. In his arms. This was right. Her body clearly remembered him, even if her mind didn't. She gasped as she clutched him tighter. His arms around her loosened so he could look down into her face.
"Belle?" he asked.
She could see the hope shining brightly in his eyes and it made her want to cry as she shook her head. "I don't remember." The joy and hope began fading quickly. "But I want to." And all of a sudden they were back. And he was clutching her to him tightly, one arm across her back, the other buried in her hair as he rested his face in the curve of her neck, his cane long since dropped to the floor. She could feel his tears on the skin of her neck, and she couldn't stop her own from falling as she clutched at his back. "I want to remember this. I want to remember you."
"Oh, Sweetheart. I'll fix this. I'll help you."
And though she had no memories to pull her certainty from, she knew he would.