"Belle, please! I'm afraid…Belle?"
He knew she couldn't hear him, and even if she could, why would she listen?
He had really screwed up this time. He'd been so focused on trying to have it all he let Belle's love slip right through his fingers. Again.
I'm doing this for us, he would always say to quench the knot of guilt bubbling inside his chest. She'll understand in time. She has to; she's all I have left.
But now he had schemed and planned, and was left with nothing to show for except a broken heart. Oh, he had it coming, he knew. But all he'd ever wanted was to be in control of his life again. To show life that although it had tore his boy from his arms and ravaged his soul, he still had his love and his power and he would be damned if they were taken from him, too.
But as the lust to protect the remainder of his life's worth grew, the line between them thinned. Where did his lust for power end and his love for Belle begin? Obviously neither of them knew the answer.
He hung his tie on the nearest tree to where the town line should be. It was more of a compulsion really; he knew he'd never be back. And his gut told him he would be extremely unwelcome if he did manage to slink his way back in the little town.
'Oh, well', he heard the imp mock in his own words. 'What's the harm?'
The voices were much quieter in the Land Without Magic, more of an echo than anything.
Speaking of being powerless- The Dark One, or was he just Rumplestiltskin now? – lurched to his knees as his ankle gave way under him once again.
Was it too much to ask for her to bring my cane, he wondered bitterly. Then he stopped himself.
None of this is Belle's fault. It was all me, it was always me.
"At first I saw a man behind the beast…now there's only a beast."
Every word Belle had said during her tear-stricken revelation settled into Rumplestiltskin's mind at once.
There was a strong gust of wind and suddenly the man was on the ground, shivering frantically. Or were those just his sobs? He didn't know and didn't care. There was no Mr. Gold left in him anymore. All of the refined mannerisms and calm disposition of his cursed persona were left abandoned in the night air.
Here was Rumplestiltskin, the town coward, the old cripple, the lost little boy. Scorned by all and loved by no one.