Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Mr. Gold pulled the car over to the side of the road as ahead, a crimson line glowed in the swiftly descending darkness. He couldn't quite bring himself to believe this was real. Since Baelfire had gone through the portal alone, centuries had passed-slowly, torturously, dragging him ever onward. Rumplestiltskin had spent every minute working and plotting and shifting lives around to suit his goals, but it seemed all he ever really did was wait; wait for a day so far off it had been nothing more than a dream. Now that it was here, Gold wasn't sure he believed it. His pulse raced at the prospect of this long-awaited journey, but his heart ached as he looked at the woman sitting next to him. She was so perfect, so purely wonderful, and she deserved so much better than himself. Yet he was leaving her behind, tossing her aside, hurting her. Belle loved him even though he wasn't worthy to look upon her, and still he treated her like she didn't matter. Mr. Gold had been living with self-hatred for far too many lifetimes, but he felt the sting of its slap as keenly as ever.

He looked down at the shawl in his lap. "This would have been lost if it wasn't for you, Belle. I would've been lost." He owed so much to Belle, and he only gave her less reason to love him with every passing day. How long could it be before she realized he wasn't worth it? Only today she had found out he killed Milah. He murdered his own wife because she didn't want to be married to a coward. It didn't make sense that Belle could feel any different. "After everything you've learned about me," he began, "everything I've done…Why haven't you given up on me?"

Perhaps she's afraid you'll rip your heart out, too, if she tries to leave, said Rumplestiltskin's cackly voice inside of him. It would explain why she's been pretending to love you for so long… Gold pushed the voice away. He had made the mistake of doubting Belle's love before, and it had done nothing but hurt her. If she still wanted him after today, he would trust her.

Belle was smiling at him. "I learned a long time ago," she reminded him, "that when you find something worth fighting for, you never give up."

She must understand, then. If she believed a monster like him to be worth fighting for, she must see why he couldn't give up on Bae. His lively, courageous little boy: there was something to fight for. Gold knew that was why Belle had begun to understand and forgive some of his deeds; everything he had done was to find Baelfire.

Gold opened the door, placing the end of the metal cane on the damp pavement and leaning heavily on it as he got out of the car. Each step toward the line was marked with a loud tap of his cane. Much quieter were the soft sounds of Belle's shoes, marking her progress behind him. Even in the high-heeled shoes of this world, she walked so quietly and gracefully. She had adapted so quickly. Gold may have lost himself in wonderment as he so often did around her, had they not at that moment reached the glowing town line.

Belle held the shawl out to Gold wordlessly as he emptied the dripping vial onto its folds. She draped it around his neck, a sad little smile on her face. The smile pained Gold more than the sadness. Belle was so good, entirely too good and too understanding for him to deserve. A lesser woman would have wept and begged him to stay, or else to take her with him. If Belle had done any of those things, perhaps he could believe himself worthy of her love. But Belle was perfect, and she understood him and trusted him and loved him and forgave him. She understood his need to find Baelfire and didn't question his need to go alone. And so she smiled. He would never be worthy of her in a thousand years.

"Okay," she said. Everything was ready.

"Here we go," he said, and turned to cross the line.

He would never stop trying, either. Fighting the evil inside of him, the darkness that had taken root–at times it seemed impossible, but when Belle was there she brought him back. She believed in him and his ability to conquer the darkness, and as long as she was there he would not fail. It would be difficult when he was traveling without her, but knowing she waited for him would be enough. It had to be enough.

Gold's cane landed outside Storybrooke. His right foot followed, and then his left. He felt the rush of magic as confusion swept through his brain. As the spots on his vision faded away, for a moment he was afraid it hadn't worked. And then he realized he still remembered what "it" was.

Someone had been standing behind him, hadn't they? He pivoted slowly and her face came into view. Yes, she was important, she was crucial to him. Belle's name registered in his mind, and all at once his memories were pulled back in as if by a magnet.

"Belle." He had not realized, until that moment, how afraid he had been to never say her name again. She had been afraid too, but now her face lit up in joy.

"It worked!" She seemed almost giddy with happiness, giggling and out of breath.

"Yes," he confirmed, laughing with her.

The sad smile returned and she took Gold's hand across the line."And now you can find your son."

She was so selfless, it almost hurt. The knowledge of what he was about to do did hurt, a real physical pain somewhere in the depths of his chest at the thought of leaving her. "Belle, I so wish you were coming with me."

"So do I," she sighed, looking at the ground. "But," she added, raising her eyes to meet his, "it doesn't matter."

Her eyes were shining from the pale blue light of the streetlights on the road. "Why not?" he asked.

"Because you'll find him," she said simply. "And when you do, I'll be here waiting for you when you get back."

Staring into the light of a face at once bright with happiness and heavy with sorrow, Gold felt as if his heart was being torn in two. Every moment away from Belle was torture, and that was when she was just a few blocks away. How would he survive never knowing where she was? He couldn't even know if she was safe. And in the most private place in his mind, Gold worried for himself as well. Not for his physical well-being, but for the evil that might tempt him. Many times, Belle's pleading had kept him from doing something unforgivable. She alone kept the dark magic from taking him over entirely. She alone reminded him that he was human and gave him reasons to stay human.

Yes, he would sorely miss his Belle, he mused as they leaned in for a goodbye kiss.


A bang, and she collapsed into his arms.


Killian Jones held the gun, his face contorted in rage. "I wouldn't count on it," he sneered.

Gold held his love, felt her blood hot and sticky on his hands as the blue light died away. "Belle?" he gasped. She gave no answer. "Belle!" he cried. She couldn't be, she couldn't be dying… "Belle!"

Her eyes were open and she was breathing quickly. She was alive, but the look on her face was frightening, so utterly lost and confused, as if she didn't recognize him… And the realization hit him at the same moment the words came from her lips, confirming the awful truth:

"Who's Belle?"

The line. She had fallen over the town line.

The earth had stopped turning, but the world was spinning faster and faster around him as time seemed to lose all meaning or significance, because none of it could be true, his senses must be lying to him because the love of his life could not be lying here, bleeding onto the dark stone with a mind emptied of all real memory…

"Oh fear not, she'll live." The pirate was speaking again, spilling words out onto the pavement, stabbing knives into Rumplestiltskin's heart. "She'll just have no idea who you are."

And the full significance of what had happened grew and took shape in Rumplestiltskin's consciousness. Belle was gone, his love was lost forever, her memories and her self leached into the air. He held in his arms the shell of the woman he loved, and this shell knew only twenty-eight years in an asylum. Horror threatened to engulf him, but something nagged at the back of his mind… there was something else he should be feeling…

It was the horror that propelled his lips to part and his mouth to speak. A thousand miles away, someone was crying out, "What you've done cannot be undone!" Someone was speaking that awful truth, but it couldn't be him. His own body was very far away, and anything it might be doing seemed entirely insignificant. But there was something else, there was something besides the horror, something was missing…

"And now you finally know how it feels."

Rage. That was it. Killian Jones had condemned Belle to this fate. A fate worse than death. Fury began to burn its way through his veins, and Rumplestiltskin embraced it. Rage was a fire, and it burned the horror and the despair clean away. Anger had always been kind to him in that regard.

Rage brought him back to his body, and he concentrated on it. As the fire burned all the way to the tips of his fingers, he pulled it out into the air until he held a ball of real fire in each hand. A hook-handed pirate had taken his Belle, and he would pay the steepest price Rumplestiltskin had ever charged. The girl lying at his feet would not beg him to stop. She would not save him from himself. She would do nothing as the darkness that lived in Rumplestiltskin's heart filled every fiber of his being. Murder, he reflected, would be much simpler with nothing to hold him back.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! This is the first thing I've written that was not complete shit, so it would seriously make my day if you took a few seconds to review. I really appreciate all constructive criticism—which reminds me to thank my lovely beta, Jess. :) If you liked it or hated it or were completely indifferent or even READ it please please please review!