AN: This was based off the wavesketcher story Letter's You'll Never Read on ao3 (beautiful SQ fic).

She was standing in a ghost castle.

The Dark Castle had been deserted for decades, even if time had been still for most of those years, it still had not been attended to for years. There were cobwebs everywhere and thick layers of dust covering almost everything. Things were set askew and it felt hollow.

For Belle it made sense, the last time she had set foot in the castle she did not leave with good memories. Perhaps she did in the grand scheme, but the last time she had seen her Love in their realm it had not gone well at all.

The lingering memory haunted Belle, a great many memories haunted her, the last time she was in the Enchanted Forest she was plagued with the memory of Rumplestiltskin accusing her of working towards his defeat and casting her out. Now she was left with something far worse.

It had been almost a month since Rumplestiltskin had died in front of her. It had been almost a month since he had looked right into her eyes and told her he loved her before killing himself to save her and his son. It had been almost a month since she had returned to the Enchanted Forest.

Her first destination was of course the Dark Castle, before the counter curse had been set she dreaded waking up back in Regina's cell, the place she had been when the curse was set all those years ago. But she didn't, instead she found herself in the middle of the same people who had watched Rumplestiltskin die along with her. They had lost their daughter and son, but only she and Baelfire truly cared about Rumplestiltskin. It fueled her with anger, but she decided to block it out of her mind.

In truth she envied them, they were gifted with the knowledge that Emma and Henry were happy and safe in another realm. For her, the one she loved was dead and gone. Belle supposed it was worse for Baelfire, he had lost his father, his Love, and his son all in the same day.

Not if she had anything to say about it though.

Belle knew that there was no way to bring back the dead, Rumplestiltskin had said so many times, but Rumplestiltskin was no ordinary man. His body and his dagger had disappeared when he died, she didn't know if that meant anything but that might mean there was a chance of getting him back.

A slim, slim chance, but a chance was all she could hope for.

But in truth she couldn't have much hope, in front of others she appeared calm and strong, claiming that she and Baelfire could find a way to get him back, that there was a way, but in truth she was broken. Every time she closed her eyes, every time she tried to sleep, the back of her eyelids showed the scene of her Rumplestiltskin taking the dagger in hand and taking it sharply through him and Pan. All she could think about was how she just stood there not able to do anything about it. She felt pains in her chest and water in her eyes every time she was out of sight. She knew he was gone, not gone as in locked away or in another realm, but gone, not of the living world. Just erased from existence, leaving her with a chipped cup and broken heart. And Belle knew that there wasn't a chance of him coming back.

And the castle didn't feel the same, it felt haunted and cold, she could still feel him in the castle. The spinning wheel still sat in the same place; that was the first thing Belle saw as she and Baelfire opened the doors of the Dark Castle. She had been strong and silent as they journeyed there, but the second she saw the wheel she broke down. Fell to her knees and made noises she didn't know she was capable of making. She remembered Baelfire kneeling beside her, tears made their way down his face as he saw the wheel as well. The truth had set in for both of them.

Baelfire had taken too venturing the castle, Rumplestiltskin had littered the place with Blood Magic; secret tools popped up everywhere. He used the books to research the items he found, but so far there was nothing that could help them.

She indulged herself in her books, practically living in the library, she dived into the books of the darkest magic, the most obscure spells, but found nothing. It wasn't healthy, but it was all she willed herself to do. There was nothing on bringing back the dead, she knew Rumplestiltskin and he was not a person to mess with fate or death or finality. But she wasn't, she wasn't letting go yet.

Belle had spent days searching though the self of books on magic, decades ago when she lived with him in their castle as a maid with quite a lot of free time, she was never interested in spells and sorcery. Now she needed it, she needed him back. She hadn't been able to move on for years when her mother had died and she wasn't planning on going through that grief again.

Expecting that Rumple was the sort of person to have hidden nooks behind shelves, or having one book that would turn the entire shelf around to reveal a hidden room. Today she planned to take all the books off the shelf just to make sure, yet after taking all the books off the shelves. Yet after hours of completely emptying the walls she found the shelves to be completely bare.

Completely defeated, she fell back into one of the great armchairs that had nearly fallen apart since the years. Her whole situation was futile, there was nothing on bringing back the dead. Belle's hands started shaking slightly in anger and desperation and sadness. She needed him back, she needed him to be with her and tell her that things were going to be okay. She always dreamed of finding him when she was imprisoned, then reuniting and having wonderful adventures in the far-off places he always went to. They had been so close, so very close, and he had been ripped away in a bright flash.

Her eyes fell to the other side of the room, the bookshelves with history, fiction, biographies, maps, and all things non-magic. That was her side, the side she would spend days at a time reading through and exploring. The chair she was sitting in was her chair, the chair she would do her reading in. Sometimes he would use the library to work while she read and she would catch him looking at her in the corner of her eye. Sometimes Belle didn't read in the library, but read in the great hall, sitting next to him while he spun.

She had to remind herself that those moments were as dead and gone and far away as Rumplestiltskin.

Belle's gaze fell on the shelf that contained her favorite book, Her Handsome Hero, that was one of the first books he had given her, the one she had read more than any other book, the first she had read to Rumplestiltskin, the one she missed the most when locked away. Her Handsome Hero was the book that felt completely hers.

She needed that book, whenever things got too happy or too angry or too depressing or too thoughtful or not thoughtful enough, Belle though, that was always the best time to read one's favorite book. Right now she was tired and lonely and abandon, a better time than any to read her book.

Belle got up from the chair and made her way over to the book, it was on the shelf that was perfect for her height and in the very middle of the rest of the books. It was the thickest and most worn. Hers, completely her book. She blew a thin layer of dust off the books and slid out Her Handsome Hero, it was wedged in tightly and she had to use a bit of strength to get it out. When she did four or five books next to it came tumbling down.

After swiping away the dust in the air Belle bent down to pick up the fallen books, the rest of the line had fallen on its side, cuing her to push them back before restacking the rest of the books. But what she saw after pushing the books aside caught her completely by surprise.

Through the shadow and dust she could see very clearly a small door. There was no lock so, with adrenaline and hope rushing though her, she opened it and stuck her hand inside to search around. She felt a wooden box and pulled it out, it was ornately designed. A size that would fit a book, she opened it slowly, praying that there was something inside to help her.

It was filled with loose pages.

But Belle caught her breath, she recognized the handwriting, the small almost illegible words, some of the pages were smooth and some were crumpled, most were old. She could see there were many spots with smudged ink and small rips.

It was his.

She unfolded the one on top of the pile and the first words struck her in the heart.

'Dearest Belle,'

Her fingers clenched the paper tightly, her whole body tensed.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'

She swallowed and blinked away her tears as she continued.

'You deserved so much more, you deserved more than me and- there was a large portion of lines that were covered with ink- what happened to you. I didn't deserve you, I didn't deserve you to walk into my dark life and ruin yours. I shouldn't have made you come with me. I shouldn't have –another portion filled with lines of smudged ink- I shouldn't have done everything I did.'

His handwriting was nearly illegible, not the kind of illegible due to calligraphy or cursive, but it looked as though it was hard for him to write it. Belle sat down in the chair with the box and the letter in her lap as she continued.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.'

It clicked in her brain, this wasn't a letter Rumplestiltskin ever intended to send to her, this was a letter he wrote when he thought she was dead.

'I should have believed you when you were here last time, when I did what I did, and you were so right. I shouldn't have shook you or yelled at you or thrown you in the dungeon or made you leave.'

The word 'leave' was written small and pathetically, Belle's face was damp and her eyes flooded, she wanted to stop reading this, she didn't have to read this. It was horrible and she hated thinking of Rumplestiltskin blaming himself and beating himself up for a tragic event that didn't even happen.

Yet, they were his words, she could hear his voice, she saw him so clearly. It hurt, beyond hurt, but she needed any part of him she could get.

'You were a goddess and I was not worthy of you, I loved you. I should have told you that a long time ago, but I did. I didn't deserve your love, you, anything to do with you. You had no place in my dark world.'

The 'd' in loved was small and squeezed in.

'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. If I didn't throw you out or- I don't know- but I shouldn't have loved you, it put you in danger. You paid a price you didn't have to pay and it's my fault. I could have kept you safe but I didn't. You deserved adventures and someone worthy of your love, you deserved beautiful, magical realms, wonderful creatures and- everything. You deserved everything.'

'You were a hero Belle, you were such a hero, you saved your people who did not deserve salvation after what they did to you. You looked into me when I have not earned compassion. Life was not kind to you, I was not kind to you. I can't undo it.'

'I always knew that magic cannot bring back the dead, it messes with fate and it's best left alone, something I learned long ago. I never had anyone who died I wanted to bring back. Even if I knew a way, I wouldn't. I, your people, your father, this world was not worthy of you Belle. Wherever you are, I hope you like it, I hope it has the adventures you looked for. I hope it's worthy of you.'

'I'm sorry Belle. I will say it a thousand times but it won't make up for what I did. But know that I mean it, it's all I can give you.'

'-your, forever, Rumplestiltskin'

Belle was crying, she didn't realize it but somewhere in the middle of the words she started sobbing. Her hand covered her mouth as she closed her eyes and choked down a miserable noise. Her body was shaking and her face blotchy and red. She processed the letter, she had never been dead, her father had never tortured her, yet he thought for so long that he had caused so much suffering for her.

Regardless of whether it was real or fake, Rumplestiltskin had gone through the same pain she was going through now. But with him, he was only left with a cup she chipped, Belle had a box of letters all addressed to her.

She wiped away her tears and reached for the next paper.