If Milah had just listened to him. If she'd just let him take Bae to Storybrooke instead of spending the holidays at their house in New York. But no, she had insisted. She'd made enough of an effort already, couldn't afford to let Bae fly, didn't want to let him fly alone, and so on and so forth. She was an expert at making excuses, and once again he'd fallen for it.
That was the reason he'd been on that damn plane. And coincidentally, also the reason he was now on a beach, soaking wet, with a large piece of metal sticking out of his leg and a stone prodding into his back while a beautiful young woman kneeled beside him.
Story of his life.
''I told him. I fucking told him we should have taken the 7 o'clock flight, but no. ''If we fly early we get a whole extra day in New York, Belle. We'll have less stress when we're travelling, Belle. Why do you never listen to me, Belle.'' Well, this is fucking why.'' The woman muttered as she tore a strip of fabric off her shirt. ''Keep still, you're making it worse.'' She snapped.
Gold froze immediately, biting his lip in pain. In any other circumstances, he'd have told the woman (Belle, if her monologue was any indication) she was beautiful. He may have even asked her out to dinner. She looked like she was able to hold an intelligent conversation. But now, as she lifted his leg and pulled the strip of fabric around it tightly, he was a little scared. She seemed to be able to kill someone, which was ironic since she was trying to save his life and his leg. Not that he'd miss the leg, it'd brought him nothing but trouble, but amputation didn't seem to be an option given the current circumstances.
''Great. That was as far as my high school first aid classes went. Any suggestions?'' Belle asked, running her hand through her hair and looking perilously close to a breakdown, though still capable of murder. Gold wracked his brain, but for the life of him he couldn't remember anything. He looked down, noting the metal didn't seem to be embedded into his flesh too deep. About an inch, maybe two, if he was unlucky.
''Alright, Belle? See if the fates favour us and look for anything that might be useful as a bandage.'' He suggested. She nodded, tears threatening to overflow, and walked away from him, scouring the parts of the wreckage that had reached the shore. He hoped she'd have the good sense not to look at the many bodies, because he was quite keen on surviving and she seemed to give him his best chance. He didn't want her breaking down. He felt around in his jacket, breathing a sigh of relief as he found the flask containing expensive whiskey he'd bought in duty-free. He hated to see it wasted like this, but it seemed he had no other choice. It was the closest to a disinfectant he was going to get.
Belle was back before he knew it, dropping a small suitcase beside him. ''This was all I could find, I doubt it's useful.'' She told him, frustrated and scared at the same time, as she flipped the case open. In it were a few brightly-coloured garments and a bag of toiletries. The case had kept everything dry. Her eyes suddenly hopeful, she unzipped the bag. A toothbrush, shampoo, some tampons and pads fell out. ''I'm sorry.'' She whimpered, sagging down. ''There's nothing else, it's all gone.''
Gold forced a smile, no longer scared she'd take the shard and force it into his chest. ''We'll have to make do. See if there's any trousers or leggings in there, will you, Belle? We need to get the metal out.''
Belle nodded, digging through the pile of clothes as Gold unwrapped tampons and pads with unsteady fingers. ''What the hell are you doing?'' Belle asked, confused.
''It absorbs blood, it's sterile, and it's the best we have. I can deal with having a tampon in my leg for a while.'' He snapped, more aggressively than he meant it. She pulled hot-pink jeans, a pair of long socks and some leggings with skulls on them out of the suitcase. He took a deep, steadying breath before continuing. ''You're going to pull out the metal. As soon as you get it out, I'm pouring on the alcohol. It's going to hurt me, so don't hesitate and put in the tampons as fast as you can. I'll put on the pad and then you're going to wrap the fabric around it as tightly as you can, understood?'' He said, holding her gaze. God, her eyes were beautiful. She looked away, swallowing a sob.
''I can't do this. I was going to New York for a weekend off, I can't fucking do this.'' She whispered, covering her mouth with her hands. Gold shifted, holding in a shout of pain, so he could put his hand on her leg. He tried to look as reassuring as he could.
''You have to, Belle. For all we know, we're the only two who survived. We need each other, we won't survive alone. You're not dying on a beach in the middle of the ocean, and neither am I.'' He sounded braver than he felt, trying to hold back his own fear. He laid back as Belle gave him a shaky nod. ''Whenever you're ready.'' He told her.
She didn't warn him before she pulled out the shard with a little more force than was strictly necessary and he grimaced before remembering the whiskey. Clenching his jaw, he poured it into the wound, making it feel like it was on fire. The next few minutes passed in a blur of pain and frenzy. When he could finally bring up the courage to pay attention to his surroundings again, he found himself with a clumsy and wildly colourful bandage around his leg. It didn't look pretty, but it did the job. He'd gotten used to dealing with pain over the years, so he tried to stuff it down, succeeding to a degree. He looked over at Belle, who had finally given in to her emotions. She was in the sand, curled up into a ball as she sobbed. He manoeuvred himself so he was lying next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. ''Thank you.'' He whispered quietly, not sure what to do. She wasn't exactly as easy to comfort as Bae, who was still at the age where one forgot most things at the sight of something loaded with sugar.
He hadn't expected Belle to react to him. He suspected she wanted to be left alone with her grief (she'd mentioned a him, hadn't she? A boyfriend? Fiance? Oh God, did she lose her husband?). Maybe he expected her to shake off his touch, at the most. He hadn't expected her to curl into him, burying her head against his chest. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, comforting her to the best of his ability. He rubbed small circles on her back. She smelled like blood, his blood, he realised. She had a few cuts and bruises but seemed mostly alright. The thought brought him some relief.
''It'll be okay, Belle. We're going to get through this.'' He promised. Then he remembered Bae, and all his self-control went to Hell as he cried with her.