Gold was concerned. To say the least. His new found alive… he doesn't even know what to call her. What is the definition for their weird relationship?
Anyway, his Belle (that's probably the most accurate description), his believed-to-be-dead Belle is alive… in his car… on their way to his home… after near 30 years confined to a sell. Oh, Regina is so going to pay. But that's not what is concerning him… well, not totally.
It's the look on her face.
She is putting a brave face, but he can see the tension in her body. She's looking around, trying to look relaxed, he guessed. It can't full him. Everything about this world is strange to her. This isn't her world. This isn't what she knows. He guesses she didn't panic before, on their way to the well, only because she had no memory of anything what so ever, nothing to compare this reality. Before the cursed break, she wasn't used to anything, so she didn't expect anything.
But none of that matters now. She is scared. He can tell.
"How are you? How are you feeling?" He asks.
She shrugs.
"Ok, I guess."
He doesn't push it anymore until they reach his house. He opens her door and helps her out of the car. She is looking around with a funny look of her face. Under other circumstances, he probably would've laugh.
He opens the front door and guides her to his couch. He sits on the coffee table in right in front of her. Only then he asks again.
"How are you feeling?"
She shrugs again, not even looking at him. He follows her glare to the front door. And then, it hits him.
It's not this new world that scares her. It's enclosure. He runs to the door and opens it. When he turns to her, she is visibly more relaxed. She smiles at him, as if apologizing.
"Is it better like this?"
She nods. He comes back to the coffee table and stares at her eyes. Gods, he missed her. All he wants to do is to hug her, kiss her and god knows what else.
"So, you don't like closed spaces." He starts.
"I guess not. It just reminds me too much of…" her voice trails off.
He can't take it any longer.
"I'm so sorry, Belle!" he says, closing both her hands into his. "I really am. It was all my fault. I should have never kicked you out. I'm so sorry! Please, forgive me."
She looks him in the eyes. She's smiling. A shy smile, but a smile none the less. Why the hell is she smiling? What could possibly make her smile right now?
"Can I ask you something?" she questions.
"Anything."
"Why didn't you look for me?" She is trying to make it sound like it's nothing, but he could hear the hurt in her voice. It just makes him ad one more topic to the 'Why should I hit every single part of Regina's body with an icepick' list.
He breathes out slowly before he answers.
"Regina. She told me… she told me that you had killed yourself." She opens her eyes wildly in surprise, but he continues. "She said your father didn't accept you back and that he handed you over to clerics and that you committed suicide because…" he sighs " because of what they did to you."
She looks down.
"Sorry."
"For what?" He's genuinely surprised. Why would she apologize for?
"I was the one who left. You thought I was… dead because I didn't…"
"Stop." He closes her hands tighter in his. "It wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault, do you hear me? Do you understand?"
She nods, but he can tell she's not convinced.
He decides to change the subject.
"What do you need? Are you hungry or something?"
She shakes her head, but then she hesitates.
"What?"
She blushes before she continues.
"I did want to take a bath." She moves awkwardly on the couch, like sitting on a different position will make it easier for her to talk. "It's been a while sense I had one." She shivers at the memory. He wishes he could do more for her. All he wants is to hold her and comfort her until her fears go away. But he knows that might be too much for her now.
So he gets up (awkwardly, because of his leg), pulling her with him, and guides her upstairs, to his room.
"I'm going to fill the bathtub." He says, as she sits on his bed. "Just give me a minute, ok?"
The habit makes him close the bathroom door, and he only notices that after he hears Belle opening it. She turns around without looking at him and sits on the floor next to the bed, with her arms around her knees and her forehead resting in her arms. He lets the water running (it will probably take a few more minutes to get the bathtub full) and goes to her side. She's crying.
"Belle." She doesn't react. He tries again. "Belle."
However, it's only when he touches her shoulder that she moves. But She doesn't have the reaction he expected.
She jumps like she's being electrocuted and crawls away from him.
"Let me go! Please, let me go!" she screams, sounding desperate. Gods, what have they done to her?
"Belle, it's ok." He stays where he is, not daring to get any closer. "You can go if you want. You're free, here. You can go. The door is open. You can go if you want." That's the last thing he wants, but there is nothing else he can say. He wants her to feel save.
Belle looks at him with more of a confusing look than a frightening one.
"I can leave?"
No.
"Yes. If you want, you can go."
She considers that for a moment. She looks at him, like she's trying to find something.
Then suddenly, she starts crying again.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Rumple, I really am!" she sobs.
He gets closer to her, but doesn't dare to touch her.
"It's ok, sweetheart. You're ok."
She closes the space between them, throwing her arms around his waist. He holds her tight, smoothing her hair as she calms down, telling her that it's ok, that she's safe with him, that no one is going to hurt her. When he's sure she is as calm and relaxed as she can be, he asks:
"Better?"
She nods, backing a little to look at him.
"I'm sorry." She doesn't mean to say mush else, but she feels like he needs an explanation. "Sitting on the bed and then you closing the door… it reminded me too much of… of that place. I went to open the door, just to convince myself that I wasn't there anymore but…" She shakes her head, as trying to forget. "I don't know. All of the sudden, it was like I was in that place again and… and I... I thought…" She is embarrassed, really. How could she even think that?
"You thought…?" He encourages her, though he's almost certain of what she's going to say.
She breaths deeply and finishes it.
"I kept seeing you as one of the doctors." She says it almost too fast for him to understand.
"Was that why you were apologizing?"
She nods, her eyes suddenly bright with tears again.
"Maybe Regina was right. Maybe I am crazy." She whispers as she starts to sob.
He thinks about that for a moment, carefully choosing his words.
"Have you ever heard of the term PTSD?"
"No. What's that?"
He smiles. He can see she's terrified of the answer, but she can't help her curiosity.
That's the brave Belle he knows and loves.
"Post-traumatic stress disorder. When you go to a traumatic event, and you survive it, sometimes it's difficult to readjust to reality."
She is smart enough to figure out the rest.
"So, I've been… imprisoned" she says that word like it's too hard to understand its meaning… or too easy, "for so long that I got used to it and it's hard to come back… to normal."
He holds her head between his fingers as lightly as he can, trying, unsuccessfully, to make her look at him.
"You are normal. Just traumatized. That's all, ok, sweetheart? You're going to be fine. You just need some time."
She looks at him right in the eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes almost pleading.
"Will you help me?"
He pulls her closer to him, slowly caressing her hair.
"Of course I will. I'm here for you. I will be here for you for whatever you need. I promise."
They stay still for a little longer, holding each other, until Gold remembers the water in the tub has been running for the past thirty minutes. He gets up as fast as it's allowed by his crippled leg and runs to the bathroom, being careful to leave the door open this time.
His bathtub is big.
Not big enough to over half an hour of running water.
The floor is completely socked with water and he had to hold himself to the washstand to not fall on his face. Gold raises his hand to make the water disappear with magic and runs to turn off the water tap. He then turns to Belle, who's at the door and looking around the bathroom curiously.
"Why is everything white?" she asks, squinting.
He shrugs, smiling.
"I don't know. I guess it's supposed to be that way." He is tempted to ask how it was like in the asylum, but holds himself. Maybe it's not the time.
"Yeah, but why? It's so cold and depressing and sad and… lonely. Why can't it have color?"
He gets up and circles her waist with his arms.
"I honestly don't know why. I didn't exactly decorate it like this. I guess I'm so used to it I never really thought about it."
She smiles, noticeably more relaxed. She rests her arms on his shoulders.
"You don't like the white?" He asks.
She shakes her head.
"It's too cold and impersonal. And it reminds me of…" She stops smiling and looks down. It's not fair. Everything reminds her of that place.
He looks around for a second and waves with his hand.
Purple smoke fills the room.
When it settles, the bathroom is colored with subtle shades of blue and yellow among the usual white. Belle looks around, amazed.
"Better?" He asks.
She nods, looking at him, her beautiful smile returning to her face.
"Bath?" She sounds like she's asking for permission, which only makes him sad.
"Of course." He kisses her forehead and lets go of her and is already headed to the door when she calls for him.
"Rumple?"
"Yes?"
"Could you stay? I don't want to be alone." She is a bit embarrassed, really. It's not exactly something a lady should ask. And their relationship is so weird and messed up. How can she know if this is the right move or not if they just met again after 28 years apart (especially sense their last moment together involved him telling her to leave)?
Then again, it's been a long time sense she has been a lady. And she is too scared to be alone anyway. She has been alone for so long.
He stares at her with a weird look on his face.
"You want me to stay?!"
She looks down, feeling her face hotter than the water on the tub.
"You don't have to. I just…" He mumbles. She has no idea how to justify her need to be close to him. She turns away from his sight, well aware of the increasing redness on her face. "You really don't need to. I'm sorry. Just please don't close the…"
"You want me to stay?" he repeats, this time more like a question than an exclamation.
"Yes." She whispers, still too embarrassed to face him.
All of the sudden, a pair of hands embraces her waist, and she feels his lips on the side of her neck.
"Then who am I to deny your wishes?" he kiss her again, and she can only grin at that.
Though he was always polite, Rumpelstilskin was never sweet.
Respectful, yes.
Romantic… Maybe.
But never sweet. He was never worried about her feelings (or any ones feelings, to be exact). He never asked her what she wanted. He never cared. And she had never needed him to until she was locked up, so she had never noticed until now.
He is a changed man. That much she can tell.
And she's glad for the change.
They both take of their clothes in silence. He stands in front of the bathtub in his red boxers, waiting and not facing her, trying to give her some privacy (a bit unnecessary, he thinks, but the last thing he wants is to make her uncomfortable). When she doesn't come to his side, he turns around.
She has her arms around her chest, sill in her underwear, and is looking in the mirror, biting her lip, as she always does when she's nervous or anxious.
And then, he really sees her.
She is far too skinny and pale to be considered healthy (he is surprised she can even stand), her arms and legs are trembling (the amount of steam in the air make it clear that is not from the cold) and she has bruises on her shoulders, arms, back and legs (small ones, like the ones you get when you're punched or pinched really hard). But that isn't the worst part.
What astonish him the most is the small round scars on her back, like cigarette burns, and the subtle yet huge tree branch like scar that starts just below her shoulder and spread to her back and, though it's covered, her chest.
Electric shock scar, he thinks with rage building inside him.
She is starring at herself in the mirror with a half curious half judgmental look. She turns around to get a full impression, and frowns a bit. Then, Belle turns to him with what it looks a lot like an embarrassed expression, still biting her lip. He gets closer to her, not daring to touch her again.
"Who did this to you?"
"I don't know." She answers. Yet, he is sure she's lying. HHHHHHHPIUHpiuhpxiuhhhhfdlgh qp5ioyt+053hy
And he knows why.
"Why are you protecting them?! They hurt you." He grabs her arm as careful as he can and runs his finger trough her scars very lightly. "Look what they did to you!"
She looks down and, not to see her scars, but to hide her face. It's in moments like this she's afraid of him. She doesn't want him to return to darkness; to be the cruel man everyone saw. She wants her Rumple. The man behind the beast.
"You can't undo what they did." She whispers, her eyes burning with tears again. "Nothing will take it back. There is no point."
"There is no point?!" He shouts. "They hurt you, Belle. They…"
"I know they hurt me, I was there." She says, with a determination she thought she had lost 28 years ago.
She turns her back to him and can't help but sob.
He is immediately ashamed of himself. How could he disturb her? No matter how angry he is, he must put her needs first. Especially now.
"You're right, Belle. I'm sorry." That's all he states. He can't really think of anything else to say without lying to her.
A couple of minutes pass before she takes a step back until her back is almost fully supported by his chest. It takes him a few seconds to realize she is crying again. He turns her around urgently and gently grabs her waist, but she still doesn't look at him. She is sobbing heavily and looking at the floor, but she doesn't push away. He raises his hard and carefully strokes her face, but she doesn't face him.
"I'm sorry, Belle. I didn't mean to upset you. Are you ok?"
She nods and finally raises her head.
"Promise me you won't hurt anybody because of me. I just want to forget it. I want to forget about those people and that place. And I don't want to feel sorry for them if you do something."
He didn't think about it in that perspective.
"I think I can understand that. If that makes you happy, I won't do anything."
She smiles a bit at that. She grabs his hand and makes her way to the bathtub. She touches the water and bites her lip.
"Is it too hot?" He asks.
"No. It's just… It has been a long time sense I had a hot bath. There was no hot water… there. In fact, now that I think about it, I think the last one was in your castle." She turns to him and grins. That makes him smile. At least, she has some good memories of her time in the dark castle.
He helps her getting into the tub, but he almost loses his balance when she pulls him with her. He guesses they are both thinking the same thing when none of them makes a comment.
And then she really surprises him.
She takes off her underwear and leaves it floating in the water. It's not something he hasn't seen yet, but the methods he used to see her naked back in the enchanted forest weren't exactly classy. And it's a bit strange for him that she undressed herself in front of him. The last few times, it wasn't like she knew he was watching.
Nonetheless, he takes off his boxers as well, completely ignorant to the fact that she did exactly the same thing he did, only she used mirrors she strategically placed in his room instead of magic. And, even though she never found out for sure, she had her suspicions he used his skills to spy on women. Otherwise, how would he spend three hundred years alone without getting bored to death?
They both try their best not to show their emotions about each other as she sits down in the tub floor with his help. He decides to do the brave thing and sits in front of her. She relaxes and lies down until only her head is above the water and she smiles at him.
"Are you ok?" she asks with a funny look on her face.
Only then he realizes his jaw is dropped and his eyes seem to want to get out of his face. He gulps and gets a bit closer to her, as she turns around and rests her back on his chest. Apparently, she does a much better job on hiding her feelings than he does.
Thank God the bathtub is large, he thinks, though it's clearly overflowed and water is flooding the floor again.
They spend quite some time in the there. He washes her hair and body, carefully running his hands through her skin as smoothly as he can, doing his best to ignore the scars, while trying really hard for her not to notice how much he's enjoying this moment (thinking of Regina full of scars inflicted by himself helped a bit).
After a few minutes of tranquilizing silence, Belle asks what's inside the electric lamps to make them shine so much. He laughs. Probably the first genuine joyful laugh he had sense he came to this world.
So, they stay in the water until it gets cold, Belle asking all types of questions, from the shampoo to the toilet, curious and amazed about this new world she didn't know and couldn't believe it didn't have magic until a few hours ago. Only when she starts to shiver he suggests they go back to the bedroom. He leaves the tub first, picking up a towel from under the sink and wrap it around her.
"Thank you."
He just nods and turns his back on her, with the excuse of getting another towel for himself. Actually, she looks so adorably sexy with just the white fiber around her and the blushed skin from the water that, if he stares at her for a second longer, this moment would go from the most amazing in his life to the most embarrassing one. Instead, he puts his arm on the small of her back, his eyes still focusing on nothing but the bed in front of him, and guides her to it.
She sits on the bed, the towel around her shoulders. Her face turn suddenly red and he thinks it's from the difference of temperature until he realizes she's blushing.
"What is it?" He asks.
"I have nothing else to wear." She whispers.
He doesn't think that's a problem at all, sense they were both naked in the tub, but goes to his closet and grabs a sweater and some pants he usually uses as pajamas.
He never understood the need for actual pajamas. The sweaters were much more comfortable. And it wasn't like he had to keep up the appearances in his own house.
"Here you go." He puts the sweater and the pans in the bed, next to her. "Wear this for tonight. Tomorrow, we'll buy you new ones."
"Thanks." She whispers, smiling.
They both get dressed facing opposite sides of the room, though every now and then they both look over their shoulders, him to check her out (with every meaning that sentence may have) and her to check if he was still there (or that's what she tells herself).
That ends when they catch a glimpse of each other's eyes.
When he's sure she is dressed, he turns around, to see her lied down, cuddle up in a ball, with a shy, dreamy smile on her face and her eyes nearly closed.
"Do you want to sleep there?" he asks.
She nods. She doesn't exactly know how she answered. All she wants is to stay there and cuddle up with him for the night, and she is too tired to lie. He doesn't know it, but she hadn't slept for the past two nights. The nurse didn't let her. She kept coming to her room every twenty minutes or so. When she wasn't there, one of her minions would do it for her. That usually lasted four or five days, normally because she asked too many question or in some way annoyed the nurse, so two weren't the worst she had barred.
Still, no sleep was exhausting. Especially after the crazy day she had.
But what if he says no? What if he says yes, but doesn't want to? What would happen? Would he kick her out?
She thinks about all those questions, but never bothers answer them. Right now, she doesn't really care. All she wants is his warm body next to her.
So she laughs when he asks her if she wants him to stay.
What a weird question. Of course she does! Wasn't she in his bed?
But he doesn't understand it that way. He nods and is headed to the door when she realizes he's actually leaving.
"No! Where are you going?" Belle calls out, suddenly alert. She clumsily stretches one of her arms towards his direction. If he asked, it's because he wants to stay, right? "Don't leave. Please." Only then she realizes, not only how much she missed him, but also how scared she is of sleeping alone. Spending the night all alone, in a dark unknown room… it reminded her too much of all the nights she had spent alone in that awful cell.
"Do you really want me to stay here with you?" he asks, surprised. How could she possibly want him there?
She nods, exasperated.
"Of course I do! What did you think I wanted you to do, when I climbed into your bed?" She knows that, if she doesn't shut up right now, she will probably say something she would regret latter, but she can't bring herself to care. She's too tired and all she wants is his arms around her.
He's surprised he even wants to be around him. He had sent her away! He is the reason she was locked up for 28 years!
How she could forgive him after all that was beyond his understanding.
He crawls into the bed. She immediately cuddles in his chest and closes her eyes. She can't remember the last time she has been this relaxed and happy.
He wraps his arms around her and smiles. He closes his eyes as well and rests his head against her hair.
Neither of them realizes it, but they fall asleep at the same time.
…
He's having the best dream he had ever had (with includes him and Belle naked again in the tub, only this time, she's facing him and they couldn't possibly be closer), when he is suddenly awaken by an agonizing scream from right next to his head.
It takes him a few seconds to realize that Belle is right next to him… screaming.
"Belle!" He opens his eyes to see his sweet Belle mumbling and agitated next to him. Only then he sees she's still asleep. She screams again and turns to the other side, not staying there for long. He grabs her waist before she falls off the bed, but that only makes her yield even more.
"Stop! Please, stop! No more! Please!"
"Belle, wake up." He yields, sense it's the only way he can make himself heard over her screams. "You're ok, sweetheart. Wake up! Belle!"
She opens her eyes, wild with fear. She still struggles a little against his arms, so he lets go of her. He turns on the light next to his bed so she can see him and once she does, she squeezes him tight in her arms, tears falling down the cheeks.
"Shh, Belle. It's ok. You're save. It was just a dream." He tries to calm her down the best he knows how (which isn't that much).
She just hugs him tighter, trying her best to ease her breathing and stop her tears (not successfully doing neither of them).
She is safe.
Rumple is there.
Rumple is holding her.
No one is going to hurt her.
She tries to believe that as much as she can.
It takes a while for her to calm down. Rumple keeps whispering comforting words to her ears until she trusts what he's saying. Once she stops crying and gasping and trembling, she starts to realize how exhausted that little scene made her… and how he must be exhausted as well.
"Sorry." She clears her sore throat. "Sorry I woke you up."
"No, no, no." He reaches for her face to clean up her tears. "You have nothing to apologize for. If you're scared, or upset, or feel disturbed, I want to know. I want to help you. I want you to feel save." He kisses her forehead. "Do you want to go back to sleep?"
She shakes her head in denial before she can help herself. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees that white room the nurse used to take her every now and then. It was never good.
But he doesn't need to know that.
"Will it make you feel better if you tell me what the dream was about?"
She shakes her head again. It's not that she doesn't want to, but she's too scared. Scared of what he might do, scared that her nightmares might become true, scared that if she tells him, they would never go away.
"I don't think I can talk about it. Too scary."
He can't stand see her like this, all fragile and broken. His Belle is brave and a strong woman. They broke her apart for the last 28 years. They had left her fragmented and lost.
But he will help her put herself back together. He would do it himself if that was possible.
He wraps his harms around her and lies down, taking her with him. She rests her head in his chest and listens to his steady heart. That alone makes her relax more that everything else.
But she still can't sleep. She is too afraid the nurse will come back. She feels Rumple's arms hugging her tighter and she notices she's shivering.
"Are you cold?" He asks.
Actually, she is, a little, and she hadn't really noticed until he asked. He pulls his fluffy blanket up to cover them both until only her head is out. She pulls herself upper in the bed so she can rest her head just under his shin. He's smoothing her hair in a comforting way and his constant touch reminds her that it is Rumple here with her, that he will protect her, that she has nothing to fear.
That knowledge, along with the body and mind exhaustion, makes her talk.
"She used to take me to this white room ever now and then." She doesn't dare her voice to be louder than a soft whisper. She's not even sure he can hear her until he tights his grip around her. "There was always a big doctor there, with a white coat and a white mask. He pinned me down to this bed and…" She hides her face in the fabric covering his chest, trying her hardest to hold back the tears. "I fought. I always did. But they were stronger than me.
"One day, Regina went there to see me. I didn't know who she was at the time, so I asked. The nurse didn't like it. She tied me to the bed and went to call the doctor, but he wasn't there. She thought she could do it herself. She has seen him do it every time. But she didn't know how.
"I don't remember her turning on that weird machine. I just remember waking up in my room, but on a different bed; a bigger one. I remember my body hurting, especially my arm and my shoulder. The next day, they removed the bed. She came in and called me weak. She said they would try again as soon as the doctor allowed it. It didn't take long until he did.
"They didn't use the machine for a while. Regina came again, but I didn't ask anything that time. Or any other time she came.
"But they never stopped. Sometimes they didn't make me leave my room. Sometimes they didn't come to my room for days and I starved. I think they would do it so I begged. And when I did, they came and… " She's heavily crying now. She can't help it.
He doesn't need to hear anything else. He caresses her hear and back slowly, trying to calm her down again.
"You didn't have to tell me that. I'm glad you trust me enough for that and I wanted you to tell me, but you didn't have to. Especially if it upsets you."
"Thank you." She says between gasps. He can interpret that however he wants. For saving her. For the bath. For listening to her. For comforting her. For letting her sleep in his bed with him. Especially with him. He makes her feel calm just by being there.
She closes her eyes, fully aware she won't be able to fall asleep again.
But maybe it will full him. Then he can sleep. It's not fair he's awake because of her.
Of course he doesn't fall for it.
"Do you know what a movie is?"
She shakes her head. He gets out of the bed, pulling her and the big blanket with him. They go down stairs and he makes her seat in the couch while he sets the TV.
She looks at him with curiosity, but doesn't say anything until he's next to her, with a weird little box on his hand. He presses a button on the box and the weird black screen in front of them lights up.
"Is it like your magic mirror?" she asks.
He grins.
"In a way, yes. This screen is called a TV. It reproduces things that are recorded."
"No magic?" She's astonished. There were people on the screen. A man and a woman talking to each other. How can that be if there's no magic?
"Remember the electricity I talked to you about?"
She nods.
"That's this world's way to overcome the lack of magic. What's happening on the screen is not really happening right now."
He spends about twenty minutes explaining to her what a movie is and how to use a remote, enjoying every second just by seeing how amazed she is. Then, he starts the movie.
It's some romantic comedy he never watched. She watches it all, fully focused on what's happening on the TV. And he watches her, fascinated by the reactions.
When the movie ends, she is practically asleep in his chest, and she looks so peaceful he doesn't dare taking her upstairs. Instead, he lies down on the couch, taking her with him, and covers her up with the blanket.
"I don't want to sleep." She mumbles, trying to get up. "I'm scared, Rumple. I don't want to fall asleep again."
"Don't worry, sweetheart." He replies, smoothing her hair. "I'll be here with you. You won't be alone, I promise. I'll protect you. You're save here, with me."
Somehow, she believes him.
She fell asleep listening to his sweet whispered voice, and she never felt more save.