a/n: they make my heart hurt. legitimate pain, people! ugh. belle, please regain your memory soon or at least grow to allow rumple's attempts at getting you back? k thx. also, couldn't help including a little bit of frankenwolf because they've become my guilty pleasure, heh. this is my first ouat story, and i also didn't read over it after finishing it, so i apologize in advance for any mistakes. story title comes from new york by snow patrol.
no joy in the mending
Talisman. Castle. Enchanted.
That man sincerely believed what he was saying, that much was obvious. There wasn't a glimmer in his eyes that gave way to a joke, no telltale sign of dishonesty in the steady tone of his voice when he told her that magic would bring back her memories if all she did was focus.
She looks around her room, at the wires connected to the machine at her bedside, the soft beeping of the monitors next to her, the stark white of the walls and sheets, lacking any sort of emotion.
She snorts.
Magic. As if.
A steady, unwelcome throb encircles Belle's head a she stares down at the broken cup that he'd brought with a mixture of contempt and sorrow. She remembers the crease between his eyebrows, his deep brown eyes, openly swimming with anguish at her continued refusal at his gentle attempts.
A cold feeling spreads throughout her stomach at the thought of his sadness, and she shakes away the thought hastily, closing her eyes, but it does nothing to shield the mirage imprinted behind her eyelids, where that man's despondent expression is still plainly visible. She groans and looks up at the ceiling, preparing herself for a night of emotional turmoil.
Her pity party gets interrupted pretty quickly by a knock at the door, followed by the soft click as the door handle turns and a tall woman with a red coat and kind eyes comes into view. "Hey, I thought you could use some comfort food," she says, holding up a container of what Belle perceives to be chicken soup. The gesture does nothing to warm her to the woman and she remains with her knees to her chest, casting a wary glance to the stranger in her room. The stranger seems to recognize this and quickly offers an apologetic smile. "Right, you don't know me. I'm Ruby," she begins to come forward, hand outstretched, before thinking better of it and placing her arms at her side indignantly. "No, we're friends. I'm not gonna amp up by the weird by shaking your hand when I already know you."
She frowns when she takes in the sight of the broken cup, but quickly masks her concern and turns to Belle with a smirk. "Whoa, what's with the mess? Did someone give you an extra lump of sugar in your tea or...?"
She hesitates, but Ruby's wearing a tentative smile, the kind that doesn't show pressure in the quirk of her lips, and Belle feels remnants of her previous trust for this woman begin to weave themselves into her psyche. "This, this man, he keeps wanting me to discover something. I don't know what," she admits, eyebrows furrowed. She points an index finger at the ground. "He said that cup was enchanted, as if he legitimately believes it possesses such a ridiculous thing as magic." She waits for Ruby to voice her agreement on the ridiculousness of the situation, but when all that greets her ears is silence, Belle looks up to see her worrying her lip, eyes trained on the floor. "Oh no, not you too."
Ruby gives her a pleading glance, moving to sit next to her on the bed. "Belle, look," she begins, "I'm not here to say anything you're not ready to hear, alright? So that's why I'm keeping my lips sealed on that whole magical cup deal, but one thing that I will divulge is this; be open to what Mr. Gold tells you."
Ah, so the mystery man does have a name.
Mr. Gold, she'd said.
Belle believed the name suited him fairly well, but she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something's a bit off about it; as if there's more to the moniker than Ruby's letting on.
"I tried."
Ruby raises a dubious eyebrow. Clearly, she was better friends with the woman than she'd originally presumed if she could see through her pretenses as easily as glass. "And judging by the ceramic glass on the floor, your patience wore thin."
Belle's shoulders slump as the weight of her guilt presses heavily down on her. This leads her thoughts back to the man. His identity was unbeknownst to her, and yet, she couldn't help but think that she'd known him all her life. As if he'd once been part of an extremely cherished memory that she'd replayed to the point of exhaustion.
"There's a pull to him that I can't identify. Is there any way you could defog the haziness clouding my memory of him?"
Ruby immediately shakes her head, tendrils of mahogany hair releasing a scent that vaguely remind Belle of a forest; musky and earthy. "That is uncharted territory; no way I'm touching that."
"Ruby, please."
She sighs, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hands, giving Belle a resigned glance. "Mr. Gold practically owns Storybrooke. He has a way of making deals with the townspeople so that, no matter what bargain is on the table, he benefits from it more than they do. He is the most cunning, vile, and manipulative person I've ever had the displeasure of meeting, and I'm not lying when I tell you I've seen people cower out of his path as he makes his way down the street."
"What does this have to do with me?"
Ruby laughs, a loud and effervescent sound without malice and lays a hand on Belle's forearm. "Everything, considering the small fact that you were in love with him beyond reason."
Belle blinks in confusion. She thinks of the man, with his gentle eyes and the thoughtful quirk to his lips, of the way his kiss made her smile, even in sleep, as if her subconscious recognized something magnificent about him that she wasn't able to fully grasp awake.
She waits for Ruby to deliver the punchline, to tell her that she's only joking, that no sane person would ever develop feelings for the selfish monster she'd just described. Most importantly, that the man she feels this unyielding connection with doesn't fall under any of the displeasing characteristics she'd just shared.
"I don't understand."
Ruby chuckles softly. "I think the entire town seconds that." Her face scrunches up in thought before she continues, "I'm not sure how you two met, or the events that happened leading up to the two of you being together, but all I know is that you were an enormously happy, lovesick sap over him. It was quite nauseating, actually."
"I don't think I'd be capable of loving someone as horrible as the man you just described."
"That's just it, Belle; you do. Because you see more to him than what's on the surface, you see more to him than what he chooses to display for others; something beneath his malevolent nature that you deem worth caring for," she says, sincerity evident in the undercurrent of her words. "You've fought for him time and time again, and while any other person looking at him would describe him as nothing more than a deceitful bastard, you're always staring at him like the sun shines out of his ass."
"And you're sure my feelings for him were this strong?"
She waves a dismissive hand in her direction. "Please. Everything I just said is an understatement beyond an understatement," she says wistfully, hazel eyes wide with blatant support. Her hand reaches up to give Belle's shoulders a squeeze once she catches the petite girl's expression, taut with disbelief. "Don't blame yourself, Belle; you can't choose who you fall in love with."
Ruby's eyes flicker to Belle's window, where Doctor Whale can be seen through the blinds signing some paperwork as he simultaneously chuckles at something a nurse is telling him. It's like he can sense he's being watched and he raises his head, catching Ruby's gaze through the glass. His smile grows less pronounced, but there's a warmth in his expression that's palpable even to Belle and her lack of recognition of who these people are.
She recognizes the way her physician is looking at her friend because she's seen that same tenderness reflected in Mr. Gold's eyes whenever he was trying to get her to remember.
She clears her throat lightly and Ruby's head swivels back to hers so quickly she wouldn't be surprised if she'd contracted whiplash. Her cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink that make her eyes seem luminous and full of a glee that belongs in an adolescent's eyes.
Belle tries to resist the urge to grin in amusement and fails.
"You didn't see that."
Her lips purse. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"That's my girl," Ruby answers, giving her an approving grin before narrowing her eyes and pointing in the direction of the Tupperware container on her nightstand. "I'm serious Belle; don't neglect that chicken soup. Granny made it, and I know you might not remember who she is, but it was your favorite. And besides, not eating anything made by that lunatic of a woman would be a travesty." She stands, smiling fondly at the mention of whom Belle presumes to be her grandmother before turning to her and dropping a kiss to the crown of her head. "Take care."
"Wait." Ruby halts in her step, and Belle takes a deep breath. "You told me to trust whatever Mr. Gold tells me, and yet, you tell me you've never met a worse person. Why?"
"Because he loves you. And when a man that vindictive feels about a person the way he feels about you...well, it's enough to make anyone believe that there might be hope for us all." She seems to remember something and reaches inside her coat, pulling out an envelope with Belle's name scrawled on the front and placing it on her nightstand table. "Before I forget, Snow wanted you to have this. Hopefully it helps with the memory muddiness."
Belle's forehead creases. Who names their kid Snow?
With a wink, the door closes behind Ruby, and a few seconds later she sees her friend through her window, looking at Doctor Whale with an expression that's dreamier than anyone should have the right to wear. She smiles at the sight of the two talking, before a frown tickles her lips when her eyes trail downwards to the shards of the artifact that Mr. Gold was so devastated to see destroyed.
Ruby had said she'd loved him, far more than words could possibly describe.
Yet, she'd been so adamant in dismissing him, spitting fire at him through hurtful words, screaming for him to leave when he'd kissed her. That cup; something important to him, to them; something that she could tell was of crucial value in the tale of how their relationship came to fruition, and she'd literally shattered it. Willingly, too.
Tears sting her eyes at the onslaught of information just bestowed upon her and she turns, grabbing the envelope Ruby left for her from the table, desperately hoping its contents would help steer her mind from going down the road of a lot of unwanted regret and confusion.
All to no avail, of course.
Belle grips the picture between her thumb and forefinger, tears blurring her vision from the two smiling faces imprinted before her. She hastily blinks them away, eager to regain her vision, to spend forever looking at the way the camera captured the perfect moment. Mr. Gold, with his arms around her, smiling at the camera with insurmountable serenity that the picture doesn't do justice. What really stuns her, however, is her expression.
It's not as obvious as Mr. Gold's, whose soft smile clearly displays his emotions for all to see, but she has her palm placed against his chest while her arm rests around his neck, and she's looking up at him under lidded eyes, wearing a secretive quirk on her lips. It's like she's not willing to convey what she feels for him, as if the love they share is too precious for the world to witness, like it's a well-guarded secret between them and no one else.
The picture drops from her grip and she sobs into her hands, crying for the unforgettable love that she can't seem to remember.