This is a Tumblr prompt from "repeatinglitanies". I do not own the idea, and I thank her for giving me the opportunity to throw my own spin on it. The picture used for this fic was created by "midstorm" on Tumblr; all credit goes to her! And thanks to my friend hyourinmariuce for the name of this verse.
The original prompt can be found on Tumblr under my account (see my profile for that info) and the rest of the verse (prompts I have accepted and answered) can be found there.
Belle walked down the pristine floors of Level Five, unaware that she was being watched as she stuck her nose in a book. Her beautiful blue eyes were so focused on the book's pages that she would have crashed into other people walking to and from classes if not for the gentle hand that gripped her arm and tugged her out of the way.
Immediately, her first reaction was to drop the book to her side and stare at the person the hand belonged to. "Thank yo—," she began, but she cut off at the sight of her close friend. "Rumple! I didn't see you."
Rumplestiltskin 085 had been her friend for as long as she could remember. In fact, they'd spent most of their time here in the Compound (as they called it) doing activities together. They swam in the same swimming class, worked together in scheduled labs, and often took meals at the same time. And unlike other people who weren't allowed to grow close, they were among the few who could spend ample time together in close proximity.
Rumplestiltskin grinned, showing off a mischevious smile. His amber eyes glittered with affection. "My, my, Belle," he murmured, nodding as they continued with the crowd. "What would you do without me, dear? You were about to run straight into Gaston 758 and you know what the officers say about your proximity to him."
Smiling, Belle clutched the forgotten book to her chest. "Where are you headed?" she wondered, loving the way Rumplestiltskin's gaze caressed her lips. Kisses were forbidden. They'd been caught before, outside of an empty, less frequented hallway. The damned bracelets they wore had given them away.
"Well, right now I have free time. What about you?" Rumplestiltskin asked, holding a glass door open for her. He had to release the door before he was caught holding it for twenty more people rushing through. Each person wore the same outfit and color: white. White pants, white shirts, with white shoes... It was enough to make a colorful person like Belle mad.
"Do you ever wonder why we can only wear white?" she wondered abruptly, ignoring her friend's previous question. "Why can't we wear red or blue or any other color for that matter instead?"
Rumplestiltskin blinked at her, leading the way to the glass railing that overlooked the remaining four levels and showed off the cafeteria below. They were almost fifty feet over the bottom level. "I don't know, dear." He smirked. "You have such an insatiable curiosity."
"I'm sorry..." She slowly trailed off, watching as their fellow companions flooded the cafeteria looking for food. It was interesting to see men and women behave so friendly in such a large space. But civility was something they'd grown up with. It was something they learned.
Nonplussed, Rumplestiltskin said guardedly, "Don't apologize, Belle. I like your...curiosity. Eat lunch with me?" He pressed the button to the elevators, ignoring the group of people that was waiting along with them.
"Sure." It was the same routine every day. Wake up, eat a regulated breakfast, go to classes or work out, follow the rush to lunch, go to work at your determined job, more classes, and then dinner followed closely after by bedtime. How could all of these people stand it? Doing the same thing day after day without one simple change in the schedule?
She was sure Rumplestiltskin felt the same way, yet he didn't seem to care about the obvious problems she saw. No one could deviate from the norm without being stopped by ever-watching officials.
And why could people only leave via the lottery? Why weren't they permitted beyond the Compound's glowing, high-tech walls? Although they'd been taught that the world outside of the Compound was dangerous, Belle wasn't quite so sure. If the world was dangerous, why would they let people out to live on the Island? Sure, an untouched piece of land could exist, but it was highly unlikely. Surely people who'd left would have written back to the Compound by now? Friends were friends. They wouldn't leave and not send letters.
The elevator ride down to the first level did not take long. With each stop, more people piled into the cramped space. Belle and Rumplestiltskin were forced to stand very close to each other, but when they filled out, none of the officers halted them.
That was another thing. Why could they stand so close together while other people were subtly forced apart if they got too touchy? Belle could touch Rumplestiltskin almost as much as she wanted, and he could do the same. The only rule they had learned was that they couldn't be alone together at any given time.
"What are you feeling today? Ham or turkey?" Rumplestiltskin cracked, smirking devilishly. He often complained about the lack of food choices for lunch. "I'm feeling like ham myse—" His eyes flashed to something over her shoulder. "Is there something wrong?"
Belle had not noticed the two officers standing behind her as she started to build her sandwich. They must've snuck up when she wasn't paying attention. Turning, she forced a smile and tried to ease Rumplestiltskin's nerves by squeezing his hand. "Are we breaking regulation?" she asked, frowning to show her confusion.
"No, Belle 581, you have not broken regulation. We're here to escort you to Dr. Mal's room," one of them spoke, trying to reassure. It didn't help. The mention of Dr. Mal wasn't very promising.
"Did she do something wrong?" Rumplestiltskin asked, voice low, aware that they were attracting attention from nearby tables.
The officer who'd spoken shook his head. "No. She has done nothing wrong. This is just a checkup." He held out his hand, gesturing for Belle to follow in front of them. Apparently she had no choice in the matter.
"Okay," she murmured, taking a step forward. She glanced over her shoulder at Rumplestiltskin and tried to give him a confident grin. He smiled back but the smile didn't reach his eyes or loosen his frown.
The officers led her to a private row of elevators. Only authorized personnel could operate them and that made Belle anxious; she didn't trust the lottery or the Island, and now the officers were taking her to see Dr. Mal, the supervisor of the whole Compound. The only people who saw her were those with problems needed to be corrected. Most people in the Compound never saw Dr. Mal. So...this was not normal.
When the elevator rose to Level Ten, Belle was sure her cheeks were pale from worry. She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking from anxiety. Level Ten was Dr. Mal's floor and office. It was a place where all the officers went to rest after a day's hard work.
The whole level was darker than the preceding ones, with dimmer lights and more fashionable furniture. Everything on this level seemed more sinister compared to the deceiving lightness of the lower levels. Even the halls were tilled black.
It made Belle uneasy.
The officers led her down a quite hallway, then into a spacious lounge area. She could see some of Dr. Mal's office through a glass, see-through wall. Yet the glass did not give her enough time to look properly into the massive office before she was escorted inside.
Dr. Mal's office was top of the line. With two massive screens glowing down from the only two solid walls in the office, a fountain tinkling at the entrance, ridiculous-looking chairs, and a high-tech desk, the woman's office was almost surreal. Almost.
Belle's focus did not remain on the office itself, however. Her inquisitive gaze was captured by Dr. Mal. The middle-aged woman looked startlingly well for her age; her blonde hair glowed brilliantly in the lighting and her skin looked as soft as silk. With high heels, she towered over Belle, and her welcoming, perfect smile didn't seem friendly at all. She had company, Belle saw. Yet she couldn't view his face from her current position. "Ah, Belle! So good to see you," Dr. Mal announced, voice a gentle croon.
That was when the gentleman turned around. And Belle's world shattered.
Because rising from the chair was none other than Rumplestiltskin... He looked exactly like her intimate friend—the nose, the ashy hair, the gleaming amber eyes... Everything was the same. But no, she amended suddenly. Not everything. For Rumplestiltskin didn't wear a well-cut, tailored suit or walk with a gold-handled cane. He didn't look at her and grow as pale as a ghost. His lower lip did not quiver when he peered into her eyes.
"Hello," Belle offered, unsure whether or not to accept the seat Dr. Mal indicated. She'd rather stand.
The sound of her voice affected Rumplestiltskin—no not Rumplestiltskin she reminded herself—and he reached out a tentative hand to touch her wrist. "Anna," he whispered, looking hurt when she flinched away. He sounded exactly like the Rumplestiltskin she knew, though his accent was a little rougher. Was more pronounced.
What the hell was going on? "Dr. Mal?" she asked, voice high with concern. Naturally, she started backing away and the man who looked like Rumplestiltskin took a tentative step toward her, raising his hand for her to take.
"Please," he whispered, waving off Dr. Mal. "Please don't be afraid."
But Belle was afraid. She stumbled backwards, almost making it to the doors before the two officers grabbed her underneath her arms. She cried out in alarm when they dragged her to her seat. "There now," Dr. Mal said sweetly once she was forced to sit down. "You have nothing to fear, Belle. Mr. Gold is a friend."
"What's going on? Wh—why—"
Dr. Mal drummed her manicured nails on the top of her desk. "Mr. Gold is going to take you to a safe place—a place like the Island."
The way she said it made Belle feel cold. Frantically, her eyes flashed to 'Mr. Gold' and caught him staring at her from his position. He stood over her, leaning close, his eyes watery as he studied her. "I don't understand—"
"You're going with him," Dr. Mal said simply.
"I—" She stood quickly to her feet and was about to scramble away when a warm arm encircled her waist and a tender had stroked through her curls, urging her to rest her head against a chest. The arm and hand were familiar—and for a moment, deceptively calming, but Belle knew it was 'Mr. Gold' who held her. Not Rumplestiltskin.
"Anna..." Who was Anna? She was not 'Anna'!
'Mr. Gold's' next uttered words were lost to her cry of terror. Blindly, she shoved him away, trying desperately to keep space between them. She needed Rumplestiltskin—not this strange, copy of a man. She had to find Rumplestiltskin.
But before Belle could spring away, before she could do anything, hear 'Mr. Gold's' anguished demand of 'wait' or call out fruitlessly for Rumplestiltskin, she felt the prick of a needle in her shoulder.
And everything went dark.