Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own, not making any money, please don't sue! My very dear readership, please be fair warned that this story is very likely to contain adult content and language but this is a story, not a PWP. Hang on for the ride, I have a plan!

The choice was made.

"Belle. Belle," he pleaded from behind her, tears evident in his voice.

Belle's breath arrived in clouds of steam between her own tears and her hand shook with the strength of her grip on the Dagger. She knew the hilt was bruising her hand, but she would not let it go yet. Rage enfolded Belle rendering her deaf and blind her to anything but her own vitriol.

When Belle opened her eyes again rage had begun draining away and the spasms of his breathing remained clearly audible. He had not yet left. She did not know how much time had passed, but she could no longer ignore the pain in her hand so she transferred the knife to her other one. The design of the hilt had left bloody and macerated skin in neat diagonal striations on her palm.

"I am afraid Belle. Please."

With some reluctance, she turned to face him where he lay with his cheek on the pavement and his lamed foot collapsed beneath him. She had never thought of him as fragile before, but like this he looked like he could blow away in a light breeze. His eyes were staring ahead, past her. Belle approached the town line and stopped on her side, to stand over him. He did not look up at her or so much as shift his gaze. Belle did not want to talk to this man, but even deep in her ire, pain and fear were two things she found difficult to ignore, and so she waited.

The man on the pavement started to shake his head repeatedly.

"Belle's not gone, Belle's not gone." The Dark One balled his fist and she could see the white of his knuckles.

"It's all wrong, Belle's not gone," Rumplestiltskin's mouth twisted in a mutilated smile. He giggled. "Oh no, dearie! Bae is dead, gone, not here. Who's this then?"

Belle started to step toward him but caught herself and took a deliberate step away from the line: "Rumple!" she hissed in spite of herself.

"Oh dearie, we're over the line, 'round the bend, headed toward the bitter end." His eyes may still have been his human mahogany, but he sing-songed as he had when she had first met him.

Then Mr. Gold answered, "I left you behind thirty years ago, Crocodile. Leave me to my misery."

"You don't deserve your misery!" Rumplestiltskin sneered. "That's too good for a weakling like you. What did I say about, that little distraction?"

"Belle was no distraction, not some idle project! I love her. True love's kiss would have worked if not for you." Mr. Gold's cheek remained against the wet blacktop and he ground his teeth audibly. Belle flinched.

"Well, you can't blame that on me. You're the coward," Rumplestiltskin went on.

"I can blame you! I have always acted from love and I knew what I was doing that day at the front. That took courage and Baelfire had to have a father, as I never did."

The Crocodile snickered, "Oh the lies we tell ourselves! I suppose you're going to tell me tossing him away was bravery too?"

"That was you! I spent my life trying to make right that wrong. I let go of you, I died for him, for Belle."

Rumplestiltskin did not reply.

"My love for Belle is not weakness or cowardice, no matter what you say." Gold continued. "I did it for her. And it would have worked. That pirate would finally have paid for hurting her, and for Milah, and I could have given her everything she ever wanted. She would have understood, if I could only have made her. I don't see what went wrong."

"Doubt you ever will," the Crocodile tittered.

Belle had quickly realized during Rumple's interchange with himself that he could not hear her or see her anymore. That left her to watch as he lost his mind.

And she watched all night, quietly shivering with the occasional escape of tears that stung in dried out eyes. A fog settled, then blew away. Rumplestiltskin jabbered and Mr. Gold's replies turned to mostly pleading. He was shivering too, wet from lying on the pavement. Eventually he did sit up and wrap his arms around his knees. She could not always hear him clearly, but the flash of his teeth in the streetlight and the hiss of sibilants did reach her. As a weak grey light poked at the eastern trees the wild flourishes of his hand came fewer and further between. The voice, hoarse now, more clearly was that of Mr. Gold.

Belle knew she could have left hours ago, but she had used the magic of the Dagger to her own ends and she had to pay this price. Now he had stopped talking to himself, at least, and only shook his head or nodded to his internal monologue.

Abruptly, his head came up and he looked right through where she stood. She took a step back anyway.

"Belle! You are my everything! My enough. I may be a coward, but I will be what you wanted, what you deserve. I cannot give up power for you or anyone else, not even for me. Even in this land without magic, the potential is but merely dormant, sleeping for a time. I could have cleaved myself from the dagger, but I cannot cleave myself from magic. I am either the Dark One or I am dead. It cannot be undone! True love's kiss would have worked if only I had had the courage then, but that chance is passed. Power is part of who I am and you have always known that, whatever you wish were true.

"I saw a chance at freedom and I took it. Call it weakness, but I am a slave Belle! You don't want that for me." Rumple ground the heal of his hand into his eye, clearing tears and he sniffed. "I know I am talking to myself, but if I am to remain sane enough for- sane enough, I'll pretend you hear me so hear this: I choose you. If I can cross worlds to find my son, I can find you too..." He trailed off. Belle's cheeks were freshly wet and so were his. Finally he began again softly, "But how to be that man? I don't know how. How to be what Belle wants?"

Morning light had nearly disbursed the shadows and she followed his gaze into the forest. He stiffly stood and hugged himself shivering. His first step gained him little as his damaged foot sent him to his hands and knees with a groan.

"Fine. Fine, if this is how it has to be." Rumple crawled to the forest edge to collect a fallen limb which he broke with his good foot. It issued a startling crack in the hush of dawn. That complete, he took one last look toward where he had last seen his love and hobbled away.

The walk back to town was long, but not long enough in some ways. Belle stalked down the middle of Main Street, dagger in hand and coat flailing behind her.