The Open Road

A/N Note: This is partially because I needed closure from the mid-season finale, and partially because Belle deserves a friend. They both do. It will be on AO3 as soon as I get a chance to add it.

Belle wasn't sure who she was expecting to pull her away from the town line, but it wasn't her.

Or..

Belle has a heart-to-heart with someone who isn't Rumplestiltskin.

"I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you,

You express me better than I can express myself,

You shall be more to me than my poem."

-Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road

It had been hours since she had forced her husband to cross the town line, and still Belle could not find it within herself to move.

He had stayed with her for at least an hour or so, before crawling to the forest, coming back with a long, sturdy stick, and hobbling away. At this point, Belle had fallen to the ground, forcing her fingernails into the grainy pavement, trying to stop herself from throwing her body through the blue-tinted magic. The pain she felt as her nails broke, blood appearing through the tiny cracks, was nothing to watching the man she loved – would always, always love – grunt and cringe with every step. Every step he took away from her.

The dagger lay forgotten, feet away, out of reach.

She knew, eventually, someone would find her, drive her home, and leave her in a house filled to the brim with reminders of their life together, of him-

Rumplestiltskin.

Just to think his name was painful enough.

Belle was so lost in her own thoughts that she completely neglected to notice the roaring sound of a car as it pulled up next to her. In fact, she was oblivious up to the first words spoken to her since-

Belle, please… Belle!

"Belle?"

She started at the unexpected cadence; she had assumed it would be Emma, or Snow White… Or even Ruby or Hook, for gods sake.

"Belle, Emma told me what happened. Where is… oh."

Belle turned to face the woman standing behind her, noting the hand that was half- stretched out towards her, the dried tears on the cheeks of the queen who had locked her up for years.

"Yes, I… He's gone. I made him cross. He's my husband and I made him leave me… He didn't want to!" She burst into another round of tears, making Regina inch towards her, now with both hands extended.

But old scars had never really faded, despite forgiveness, and Belle ignored Regina to lunge for the dagger, wrapping it up tightly in her arms. Even as it dug into her hands, she gently traced the black letters, holding onto the part of her true love that he had loved the most.

Regina gave up, sinking to the ground. "You know, I am sorry."

The former lady looked up from her preoccupation, confused. "Whatever for?" she questioned, her accent thickening. "For locking me up? That was a long time ago, Regina."

"No, well, that too," the woman replied, flashing a smile with no warmth beneath it. There was a bitterness in her, Belle noticed, that she had never seen reflected in her husband. A yearning for redemption that Rumplestiltskin never had. Belle wondered if she was finally seeing clearly – or maybe her disappointment and anger in Rumple was clouding her judgment? No, Regina has been changing – has changed. He never changed, only regretting his actions when everything became visible to her.

"I'm sorry for never trying to get to know you."

She couldn't help it; Belle burst into laughter, but it came out sounding like more sobbing. Maybe it was. Here she was, mourning the loss of the man she loved, a loss of her own doing, and a formerly evil queen who had caged her for years was asking her forgiveness for not being her friend? Maybe this wasn't real; maybe this was the fairytale land.

Regina brought her knees to her chest, dark eyes strangely honest. "I'm serious. I know that this town took a long time to accept me, but that makes me the person most in the wrong here, because I would be the best person to… understand. And Rumplestiltskin, Belle, he loves you. No one could ever convince me otherwise, not even him." She smirked darkly, and for an instant, Belle recognized the woman who used to come to look at her in the asylum, and she flinched. "After all, old me always knew to use you to hurt him, and I am not stupid." Then the woman was gone, and the new Regina smiled encouragingly in her place. Belle relaxed, but did not loosen her grasp on the dagger.

"What I'm trying to say is that because the he's an idiot, and a coward, and a beast – and trust me, dear, no one knows that more than you and I – does not mean that he doesn't love you more that anything."

"More than power?" Belle said, a hesitant note to her voice.

Regina sighed. "I'm one of the villains, Belle, and part of me always will be. I love power, and the freedom it allows. But I loved it most because I thought it made me better, something more important and impressive, especially to Henry. And I thought I needed it to protect him, and I still think that, to an extent."

Belle leaned in, her tears drying. The pain in her fingernails, however, only grew as she pushed back the crippling grief that had gripped her the past few hours. She winced, and Regina glanced down at the librarian's hands, trying to hide her horror at the sight.

"May I?"

Belle paused for a moment, then nodded, before tucking the dagger in her jacket and holding her arms out, nearly heaving at the vision of dried blood and forming scars. How had she not noticed doing that?

"Grief can make us do terrible things," Regina said, and Belle got the feeling she wasn't talking about what was happening right now.

Regina moved forward until there was only a foot of space between them, taking Belle's hands in hers. "Is it okay if I use magic?"

"Of course," Belle replied, smiling despite herself. "I have nothing against the art itself, it's more-"

"-what it does to people, I get it," Regina finished, the old, bitter look replacing the warm smile Belle had enjoyed so much.

"So, how did you?" She finally asked, watching as the golden glow – at least Regina had had the tact not to use the same blue tinted magic of the town line – as it enveloped her like a soothing balm. She sighed in relief.

"How did I what?" The queen questioned. "You have a remarkable pain tolerance, by the way. The magic tells me that must've hurt quite a bit."

Belle took her hands back, rubbing them together, ignoring the urge to lovingly recite the stories of how she and Rumplestiltskin had grown closer, starting with the one where he had thrown her into a tree to protect her from wolves. A high pain tolerance was needed when one was as accident-prone as she was. Regina looked as if she was surprised the other woman did not move away, but neglected to comment. Something for which Belle was grateful. "Change," she clarified, a soft, wistful tone permeating the air. "How did you change?"

Regina leaned forward, taking Belle's hands in hers slowly, as if not to startle her. "Can I tell you a secret?" The librarian nodded, meeting Regina's eyes directly. "I don't know if I have, really."

Belle instantly became affronted. "Not changed? Of course you have! You saved your true love's wife from being killed, helped the town… You're practically part of the Charming family..."

Regina smiled at her. "I can see why Rumple loved you so much; you have quite a way to make everyone around you better- happier." Belle blushed lightly. "I'm not sure, really. I think it's more of a change of perspective. But I still love power, and my first impulse is always to do something selfish."

"Regina, at your core, you are good. Take it from someone who has been spared no experience on your bad side. You are good, and deserving of love – and I am sorry about Robin, Regina. You deserve a happy ending, because you are a good person, I swear it."

"Then so is Rumplestiltskin."

Belle started, the familiar doubt creeping back. "I'm not so sure…"

Regina interrupted her, clutching her hands tighter. "No, Belle. I'm not good at… hope speeches. And I won't give you false assurances that your husband won't fail you in the future. Because he probably will. He's no prince charming, and he's not really even charming, but he loves you. True evil isn't capable of true love."

They sat in silence for a moment. Two broken women, in the middle of a desolate road, with a dagger and torn picture between them. Then, Belle squeezed her rescuer's hands, beginning to stand.

"I think," she said softly, holding out a hand to help Regina stand, "it's time to go back into town."

Regina looked down the lonely road, imagining for an instant that Robin was there, that Robin was coming back to her. Then she wished the image away, hooking arms with the high-heeled woman next to her, knowing Belle was doing the same thing. They turned their backs on the road.

"I think that's a good start."