Love isn't anything you can describe. It doesn't contain selfishness or selflissness, like everybody says. It doesn't contain independence or dependance, like others want. It doesn't contain even the amount of love you can share to eachother. It doesn't contain jealousy, or aggervation, or loneliness, or rejection. Those are all different things. You can't find love in a fairy tale, because fairytales are just another story. You can't smell it, or see it, or taste it, because it can only be felt by you. It's a mystery to be uncovered, yes, but the truth is that sometimes you don't want to uncover it. Sometimes you want to leave it a mystery, because the only thing you can find in love is also hate. Hate, the one that can be found anywhere. People don't want to admit it, because they want the perfect love, but love just isn't perfect. It can't be perfect. Perfection doesn't exist.

That was what Belle was telling herself when she captapulted an inflamed rock at Rumpelstiltskin's house. Not that she wanted to - She rather liked that house at times, but she needed to. To find love, to embrace it, to do the right thing, she had to destroy everything left in him. Because this war couldn't end without him on his knees.

"We're losing," Somebody said beside her, "Belle, we're losing." It was obvious. She had seen many wars, unlike Emma. She had known for a long time they were losing, but yet it was then that everybody else had finally realized.

"I know," She replied, looking at her, "But everybody loses before they win." She was trying to find Emma's eyes, the one person that always helped her up, but she looked gone. Her hair was a mess, her face was covered in dry blood, her clothes were torn. She swallowed.

"We're not going to win this," Emma said sharply, "Unless we do the original plan." Belle picked up another match and lit the paper ball in front of her.

"Belle, don't you hear me?" Emma's voice rose, "People are dying, and we need another plan!"

"Then go find Baelfire," Belle said instantly, "Where is he anyways?" Emma's eyes narrowed.

"I dunno, somewhere still ranting about how a war doesn't even help anything," Emma said darkly, hate filling her eyes, "He is against a war, but yet he-"

"EMMA, WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!" Belle barked in an unfamiliar tone, "GO FIND HIM!" At first, Emma stood in front of her with flaming eyes, but then she turned around and ran back angrily, muttering curse words under her breath. Belle shook her head, taking a deep breath.

"You're going to make it, y'know," Somebody said behind her, "We can do this Belle. I know this is hard for you, but you're doing the right thing." She looked behind her, at her best friend. He wasn't half-dying like everybody else, but he still looked like he lived a thousand lifetimes.

"Will we?" She asked, clasping her hand in his, "So many people have died." She didn't want to cry, it didn't flatter her, it didn't show strength, but the teardrops were coming down like waterfalls.

"I was never meant to run a war," She said to him, "Its not me. Its not who I am." He nodded, as if he understood.

"We'll get through this, alright? Just hold on," He said, "You're the only one who can end this. You have to see that. You're not hurting anybody, you're saving them, Belle. You are the most selfless person I know."

She gave up on the flaming ball and was about to hug him, before she was yanked away from him. At first she thought she was falling to the ground, but then she was being pulled a thousand miles per hour. A way from the scene, by some unusual force. The wind was hard against her skin. Blackness seemed to come over her, and she was gone. Far behind the battle, she knew that. And she knew who was dragging her too.

Her body didn't stop moving until she made it to a cemetary. Dark, and in the mountains. Her legs were shaking so hard, she had to grip a tombstone to stand up. She start panting exhaustively and looked up above the trees that encircled the cemetary. For behind the highest peak, she saw a small sparkle of fire.

She didn't have time to calculate how far away she was, or how she got here, or even why. She heard a popping behind her and she turned around.

There he was, only a couple tombstones away. Perfectly in shape. With freshly brushed hair, a nice-cut shuit, not a single sign that he had been in the battle at all. And that angered her more than anybody could imagine. She had put a whole town at risk, and he wasn't even in the battle.

"Belle," He said simply. Her teeth clenched.

"Rumpelstiltskin," She said evenly. He took steps toward her, and she clung to the tombstone. There was no point running - He would just drag her back. Anyways, she wasn't a coward like him.

"You sent a flaming ball at my house," He stated.

"Two, actually," She corrected. His calm face seemed to fall into a heaped mess.

"What did they do to you?" He asked her, reaching towards her, "They corrupted you. They changed you. They-"

"They didn't do anything," She argued, "It was all me. I'm trying to save you. I'm trying to-" Suddenly, he was in front of her, his hands against her throat. She would've fallen, but he pushed her body against the tombstone.

"I don't want to hear it," He said, "You're coming home, drinking some tea, and taking a nap. God knows how much you need it, dearie." She tried shaking her head, but his grasp was too tight.

"No," She choked, "I'll leave again." His eyes narrowed dangerously. A part of her wanted to look away, but her eyes bored into his. He was quiet. So quiet she knew that this was her time to speak.

"I'm trying to save you. I'm trying to help you," She said weakly.

"Help me?" His voice rose, "BELLE, YOU TURNED INTO A MONSTER!" Tears seemed to form in her eyes. He had to see it...It was his only shot.

"This is because of him, isn't it?" He asked her, "He is the reason!" She shook her head quickly, her eyes bulging. No...No...He couldn't hurt him.

"I'LL KILL HIM!" He screamed at her, "HE'LL BE DEAD BY NIGHTFALL!" She shook her head, her hand clamping against his, trying to pull him off her.

"You know what, Belle?" He asked her darkly, "I'll let you go. I'll let go back to your pity war. And when I win, you'll come back to me. You'll see that you're wrong!"