Love is Memory
A/N: I do not own OUAT, or its characters. Written with great love and respect for actors Robert Carlyle and Emilie deRavin. Enjoy, dearies!
Storybrooke, Maine
March, 2013:
They told her that she had retrograde amnesia from being in a car accident. The car had crashed into a tree just outside the town line of Storybrooke, though she hadn't been driving it. A man named Killian Jones had. He had kidnapped her and was trying to get away from her husband when he'd lost control of the car and crashed with her inside. She'd hit her head and lost consciousness and when she awakened in the hospital she had no memory of who she was, not even her name.
They told her it was Belle. Belle Gold, wife of the town's richest resident, pawnbroker Robert Gold. They told her she had a child, a little girl named Ava, who would be three on April 17th. Belle remembered nothing. The nurses and Dr. Whale told her that sometimes that happened with head trauma, and perhaps her memory would come back in a few weeks or months. Or longer.
Or never.
But that they did not say.
They didn't have to.
She knew without knowing how that was a possibility.
It had been two days since it happened, and so far she had seen the man called Bobby, her husband, and a woman with long red hair called Ruby, who was her best friend. But they were strangers to her, try though she did to recall them.
She struggled every hour to find something to remember, something she could latch onto, but her memories were fragile fleeting things, and they hid from her.
She knew that the memory loss hurt not only herself, for she felt like a ghost, alive and yet not, she walked and talked, but the essential self, who she was, was missing, but her friend and family as well. She would never forget the look of shock and terrifying loss upon the face of the man who called himself her husband when she woke to him holding her hand and she screamed, "Who are you? Get away from me!"
She had been startled and frightened, but she had seen her words strike him like twin punches to the jaw and stomach. He had flinched back from her, his hands raised, and the look in his eyes was that of a man who had just had his heart ripped out, tossed on the floor, and stomped on.
"Belle . . . it's me . . . don't you remember me?" he'd asked tenderly, desperation quivering in his tone.
"Who . . . who's Belle?" she'd cried, her mind whirling in a silvery mist.
"You're Belle, sweetheart. Belle Gold, my wife. I'm your husband, Robert—Bobby—Gold," he'd informed her. He'd reached again for her hand.
She'd shrank from him, because everything was just so strange, and even though he wasn't a physically frightening man, she was spooked and scared. "Don't touch me."
He immediately withdrew his hand, though the look on his face made her flinch. He looked stunned, as if she had hit him over the head with a board. Or run him through with a sword. "I'm sorry, dearie. I just . . . are sure you don't remember me?"
"I don't even remember who I am, and you expect me to remember who you are?" she'd whimpered. She felt like a broken doll, all splintered and pulled into pieces.
He'd pulled out his cell phone—funny how she had no trouble remembering what things were—and shown her a picture of a beautiful little girl with wavy brown hair and blue eyes in a pink dress holding a tea cup, saying, "Look, it's Ava. Our baby girl. Do you remember her?"
She had stared at the phone, trying to force herself to remember. She knew she ought to remember, but her mind was all in a fog, and not even looking at the picture of her child made an impact on it. Frustrated and upset, she had yelled, "Please, just go away!"
He had nodded mechanically, his chocolate brown eyes filled with anguish, and said simply, "Okay, dearie. But I'll be back again tomorrow. I love you, Belle."
His words made her feel ashamed, because she couldn't feel the same way about him, and she knew she should.
She spent the night lying there, staring at the four walls of her hospital room and repeating to herself that she was Belle Gold until she fell asleep finally in the wee small hours of the morning.
But when she opened her eyes the next morning when the nurse came in to take her vitals, Belle Gold was just a name to her, and all she remembered was what had happened the day before.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Gold's Victorian
The next morning:
"Papa! Play!" Ava crowed, banging her spoon on the table and nearly upsetting her bowl of Golden Grahams.
Mr. Gold looked up from where he was trying to enchant his chipped cup—the special talisman that represented his love for Belle and his for her—and said softly, "Not now, Ava. Papa's busy. Eat your cereal."
Ava scowled, her cherubic face crinkling. "Papa! Play!"
Her spoon smacked down into the bowl of Golden Grahams, splattering milk and cereal all over herself, the table, Gold's expensive charcoal gray Dolce and Gabbana suit, and her father.
Bobby jerked his head as milk cascaded into his eye, and reached for a napkin to blot his face. When he opened his eyes, he groaned at the mess his toddler had just created.
"Ava Adriana Gold!" he scolded. "You quit that. Look at the mess you made."
The little girl started sniffling at his stern tone, then huge tears formed in her beautiful blue eyes and she began bawling. "I sorry! Mama! Want Mama!"
Bobby was immediately sorry he'd yelled at the little moppet, even if it was deserved. "Hey, Ava, it's okay. Don't cry, dearie," he soothed, and went to grab a towel to mop up the spilled milk and cereal and also his daughter's face. "Shh, baby."
"Papa mad?" the toddler whimpered, her lower lip trembling.
"No, I'm not mad. I'm just . . . frustrated," Gold sighed, wiping her face and hands. "Okay, now let's finish eating breakfast, baby girl, so we can go to hospital and visit Mama." He picked up the spoon.
"Where Mama go?" Ava asked, looking around for Belle.
"Mama's sick, Ava. That's why she's not home," Bobby said, explaining patiently to the toddler again why Belle wasn't there.
"Mama sick?"
"Yes, dearie. But we can go visit her soon. After you eat." He dipped the spoon into her cereal and brought it to her mouth. "Mmm! Come on, open wide!"
Ava pouted at first, then she opened her mouth.
He popped the spoon in.
"Mmm!" she said after she had chewed and swallowed. Then she grasped his large hand in her tiny fingers and said, "Now you eat!"
"Ava—" he began, for he had no appetite since Belle had been injured.
"Eat, Papa!" his daughter ordered, and tried to bring the spoon over to the bowl. Then she looked up at him winsomely. "Pwease?"
His heart melted whenever she gave him that look. "Okay." He promptly ate a bite of Golden Grahams. "Your turn!" He fed her another spoonful.
"You!" she squealed, giving him a bright smile.
He ate another spoonful, finding to his shock that he was getting hungry. And he had always liked Golden Grahams. "One for me . . . and one for you."
Soon the bowl was empty, and Ava clapped her hands and shrilled, "More, Papa! More for me n'you!"
He raised an eyebrow. "You're still hungry?"
"More!" she giggled, and held out her hands for the box of cereal on the table.
The box trembled suddenly . . . then floated over to her in response to her budding magical talent.
"Yay! More cer'ral!"
"Hey!" her father cried. "Ava, no magic unless I tell you," he reprimanded gently. She had inherited his magical gift, being a true love baby, though as yet she could only do small things with it, like summon toys and food to her.
Then he grabbed the box of Golden Grahams before she spilled it all over, pouring some more into the bowl.
"Need milk, Papa!" the intrepid tot told him.
"Whoa! Hold it right there, little miss," he said, and summoned the milk before she tried to and it ended up on the floor. He poured the milk in and mixed the cereal. "Okay, sweetheart." He fed her another spoonful, beginning the whole ritual all over again, unable to keep from smiling at his brilliant baby girl's antics.
Once the bowl was empty of all save some milk, he rose to put the cereal away, along with the carton of milk.
As he was turning to shut the refrigerator, he heard Ava giggle.
"Aww! Papa, look!"
Gold turned . . . and saw their black and white cat lapping up the milk in the cereal bowl.
"Mittens dwinking!" she squealed, and reached out a hand to pet the cat.
The sorcerer sighed. Cats on the kitchen table. Belle would have had a fit. He came over and caught his daughter's chubby hand before it closed over the poor cat's ear. "Ah ah! Pet the kitty gently."
"Pet Mittens!"
He carefully put her small hand on the cat's shoulder, showing her how to stroke the cat gently. "See? Gently."
"Gennlee," she murmured, then she leaned over and kissed the cat on the head. "Mmm-aa! Kiss Mittens!"
The cat looked up, shook her head, then withdrew from the bowl, backing up and lying down on the table with her paws tucked beneath her.
"Very good, dearie!" her father praised.
Ava's small hands then reached out to him, grasping his face and pulling him to her. "Kiss Papa!" Then she kissed him on the cheek.
"Thank you, baby," he murmured, blinking back tears. Belle had taught Ava to kiss everyone.
He moved to take the bowl and spoon away while his daughter cooed at their cat, who had two white front paws like a pair of mittens and a white chest but the rest of her was pure black.
"Three little kittens has lost their mittens . . .!"
He nearly dropped the bowl on the floor hearing the childish treble, recalling how Belle used to play with Ava in the great room of the castle while he spun gold upon his spinning wheel. His beauty and his baby girl. They had become his life after he had lost Bae to that vile Peter Pan, who had convinced the boy to go with him to Neverland, telling the boy that his papa's curse as the Dark One would never be broken and he would remain forever the evil being the dagger had made him.
How he had struggled to find his son, creating spell after spell to travel the dimensions. All had failed, it had all been in vain, and he had despaired, until making a deal with a blue-eyed beauty who studied magical objects named Belle. She had helped him create a spinning wheel that could not only spin straw into gold at his touch, but also spin portals to different realms.
But in order to use it, he had to surrender his heart, for all magic came with a price, and the price required was the wheel could only be used by a sorcerer who had known true love. He hadn't realized it then, but his heart had slowly been falling in love with his assistant, as she reclaimed him from the dark, until one day she kissed him as he spun straw into gold, and True Love's Kiss had shattered the dagger curse, turning him back into his former self, the spinner and weaver, albeit now with magic at his command.
Together, they had spun a portal to Neverland looking for Baelfire, but when they got there, they found Baelfire was gone, escaped from Neverland to a land without magic. Upon returning to his castle to try again to create a portal to that realm, they had discovered a thief in the castle, by the name of Killian Jones, a pirate and adventurer, out to steal the dagger and gain control over the Dark One. He also was a former paramour of Belle's, and tried to kidnap her, resulting in a terrible fight between himself and Rumplestiltskin, which ended up costing Jones his hand. Vowing revenge, Jones had fled, along with the dagger.
By then, Rumple had realized one very important thing—he wanted to make Belle his wife before using his enchanted wheel to travel anywhere else. So they married and honeymooned in the castle, and afterwards were going to use the wheel, only to discover Belle was pregnant, and pregnant women couldn't use portals, or risk losing the baby. . .
Mr. Gold shook his head, sending the restless ghosts of memory back to sleep, then handing Ava her soft cloth doll to play with while he finished enchanting the chipped cup. He could not bear for Belle to be without her memories, to have forgotten her life, her family, the love they had shared . . . because of a pirate's revenge and an evil queen's curse, which had swept them all away to this land without magic, imprisoning them in this town called Storybrooke until Emma Swan broke the curse with the power of True Love.
He had lost his son, he could not bear to lose his wife too. Not now, not after all that had happened.
He tucked the chipped cup into a velvet bag and picked up his daughter. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you changed and then we can go see Mama at the hospital."
"Bye, Mittens!" Ava waved at the cat as her father carried her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Papa, wanna wear Belle . . ."
"Yes, I know," he chuckled. Lately that was all she wanted to wear, ever since they had watched Beauty and the Beast, her Disney princess Belle shirt and matching shorts.
He had hoped, after the curse broke, that he could continue his search for Bae, once he had brought magic back to Storybrooke using the wishing well, but magic was different in this world and he still wasn't accustomed to it, though clearly Ava had no problems using it, perhaps because she was a baby, and babies didn't worry about why and how, they just felt and magic always responded to the deepest wishes of the heart.
He prayed that was still the case, even here. Love is memory, and memory is love.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
She looked up as Gold entered her hospital room, looking very debonair in his suit and tie, though his spit-and-polished image was made more ordinary by the little girl held in his arms, wearing a pink Belle short set and white Nikes. She was a beautiful child, rosy-cheeked, with long wavy golden brown hair and the biggest blue eyes, a deep cerulean blue, that sparkled in delight when she saw the woman in the blue and white hospital gown.
She held out her arms and cried, "Mama!"
"Belle, this is Ava," Gold said softly. "This is your baby." He went to set the child down, and the little girl scrambled onto the bed and hugged her mother.
Startled, the woman stiffened slightly, for though she tried with all of her being to remember, the child remained a stranger to her, even as the tiny arms wound round her neck and the delicate lips kissed her cheek.
"I . . . I don't . . . remember . . ." she stammered miserably.
Ava drew back a little, her small face crinkling, sensing something wasn't right. "Mama sick?"
"I . . . hit my head . . ."
"Ava, move a little," murmured Bobby, and he gently moved the toddler next to Belle, and took the chipped cup out of the bag. "Here. I brought you this. Do you remember your chipped cup?"
She stared down at the bit of crockery in puzzlement. "I . . . it's a cup . . ."
"Yes. It's your talisman. Hold it," he urged and pressed it into her hands.
"It's damaged . . ."
"Try and remember. Focus. Please, Belle."
The urgency and desperation in his tone was palpable. She cradled the delicate cup in her hands, wondering just what she was supposed to remember.
Then the cup glowed with a soft purple and gold light.
She blinked, as a memory played itself out in her head . . .
She was in a great room with a long low table, and a polished wooden floor, and before her in a red brocade chair sat a man with sparkling gold skin and glittering eyes dressed in black leather pants and a flowing silk shirt of a deep gold color. His hair was long and curly, falling to his shoulders in sleek waves, and his fingers slender and quick to gesture as he spoke, detailing her duties as his servant and chatelaine.
She responded softly, frightened by his reputation, and continued dusting the lovely blue willow and white porcelain tea set, accented by thin gold plate around the handle, rim, and bottom of each piece. "Yes."
"And you shall skin the children I hunt for their pelts."
She was so shocked at that request that she lost her grip on the tea cup she was polishing and it fell on the floor.
As she reached for it, scared to death that now he would do something dreadful to her for breaking his cup, he looked at her with a little smirk and said, "That was a quip."
He had made a joke? To her? Astonished, she gazed up at him, the cup cradled in her hands. "It's . . . chipped," she blurted out, trying to be brave. If he were going to punish her for ruining his collection, she wouldn't beg for mercy. "But you can barely see it," she showed him the cup, with the small chip out of the rim, then waited, steeling herself for the rage that would follow.
Instead he looked at it and said, "It's just a cup."
It was then that she knew he was not the beast everyone claimed.
And when she gazed at him again, it was not in fear, but with a newfound clarity that she had never had before. For now she saw the man beneath the cursed Dark One.
She came out of her reverie with a start, her hands jerking convulsively, and she cried, "I saw . . . you and me . . . but you were different . . . you had golden skin . . ."
"Yes. Once I did, when I was cursed, I was the imp of the Enchanted Forest, a dark sorcerer," Gold admitted, excited that she was finally remembering something.
"Magic? You're telling me that . . . you have magic?"
"That's right. But I'm no dark sorcerer now, dearie. You helped me break that curse, before we ever came to this world. Do you remember now, Belle?" his eyes shone with hope.
She shook her head furiously. "No! No! I . . . it makes no sense . . ." She lost her grip on the cup, as she had so long ago, and it tumbled from her hands and onto the floor, where it broke in half.
Gold gasped.
Ava did as well. "Uh oh!" she cried. "Mama, you broke it!" Then she clapped her hands and squealed, "I fix!"
And suddenly a purple mist swirled about the cup and it was mended, all save for the chip out of the rim.
Belle's eyes bugged out of her head. "That . . . was broken . . . and now it's . . . not!"
"Ava, dearie, no magic unless I tell you!" Gold scolded exasperatedly, and then he bent and picked up the cup.
Belle looked from the cup to the child on the bed and back again. Surely what she had seen could not be real?
Gold was holding out the cup again. "Please, try again. Try and remember."
She pushed his hand away. "No! No more!" her head was pounding, as if it would split in two, and she was frightened now of his intensity. "Please go away!" She wrapped her arms around herself.
"Mama mad?" Ava whimpered, unnerved by the loud tone coming from her mother.
"All right. I'm sorry," Gold swiftly apologized. "I'm sorry, Belle. Maybe it was too much right now." He put the cherished cup back into the bag and went and scooped Ava off the bed. "Ava, say bye to Mama."
"No!" the child wailed, her arms reaching out to her mother.
"We have to leave, Mama isn't feeling well," sighed Bobby, and quickly departed, wincing at the shrill cries of his daughter.
She watched them go, and thought about the odd memory she had recalled, of herself . . . in a castle . . . and then she heard the child's cries echoing in her head, and felt a lump in her throat. Poor baby! She wants her mama . . . she wants me . . .but I can't remember . . . Then she recalled how Ava had mended the cup, and she thought, But how can that be possible?
Confused and hurting, she curled up on her side and pressed the red call button on the remote attached to her bed. She had the worst headache, and she needed something to make it go away.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Ava cried all the way back home, and Gold cursed himself for pushing Belle too much. He should have been more patient, the magic had been working, she had been remembering, he had seen it in her eyes . . . and then she had stopped. He didn't know why, why the magic hadn't worked, when he'd cast dozens of spells just like that before.
It's this realm. It's laws are different. Maybe it just requires more time, he thought, trying not to despair. He mustn't give up. He must remain strong. Belle had told him often enough when she had been his assistant that she would never stop fighting for him . . . and that was how she had eventually broken his curse.
He knew then he would have to show the same fortitude.
He looked over at Ava, who had finally fallen asleep in her car seat, exhausted. He reached over and caressed her little head. "I'm going to bring your mama back, Ava. Together, we'll help her remember. Even if it takes forever."
Then he parked the Cadillac and got out, carrying his daughter inside and putting her down for a nap.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Back at the hospital, a kindly nurse gave her something for her headache, and she fell asleep, sleeping for several hours, and dreaming of a dark castle and a golden-skinned man who could spin straw into gold and who desperately needed her help to find the son he had lost.
She woke with tears on her cheeks from some unnamed sorrow, and tried to recall why, but once again her dreams faded like mist over water, and slipped from her grasp.
On her rolling table was a plastic tray with a covered dish on it. She removed a cover to find her dinner, still hot, of something called chicken francaise and mashed potatoes with carrots and a small roll.
She began to eat, frowning as she did so. The food tasted bland, like sawdust, and as she chewed mechanically on it and sipped the small carton of iced tea, she thought that the roasted chicken she used to eat back in the castle had tasted much better.
She dropped her fork on her lap.
I remembered something. A roasted chicken. But why can I remember that and not who I am? Why?
Frustrated, she picked up the fork and stabbed the chicken on her plate. But no more memories came to her then.
Page~*~*~*~Break
Robert Gold, who had once been called Rumplestiltskin once upon a time, but found he preferred the name he'd had for the past twenty-eight years, emptied a box of elbow macaroni into a pot of boiling water and stirred it. He had decided to make macaroni and cheese for dinner that night. It was Ava's favorite, and she preferred it to everything except chicken nuggets, hamburgers, and Golden Grahams.
Gold was just lucky that it was easy to make with milk, butter, and Velveeta cheese, because he was not the greatest in the kitchen. He microwaved some broccoli also and checked on the crescent rolls in the oven before he set the table.
He automatically got out three plates, and started to put them down when he swore and the third plate was yanked off the table and almost fell on the floor before he caught it with a hand. "Dammit!"
He limped over to the cabinet and put the plate back, and as he did so, he heard a small voice say, "Dammit, Mittens!"
He turned to see Ava standing in the doorway, poor Mittens dangling from her arms, the cat's legs and tail trailing on the floor. The cat shot him a pleading glance from her yellow-green eyes.
"Hey! Don't you say that!" he scolded.
"Why?"
"Because it's not a nice word," he sighed. "And I shouldn't say it either."
Mittens meowed pathetically.
Bobby limped over to his daughter and said, "Ava, give me Mittens. You're hurting her."
"No! I cawwy her!" the toddler said stubbornly. She squeezed the cat tighter.
Mrroow!
"No, she's too big for you to carry," he snapped, and then plucked the poor cat from her arms and allowed the poor thing to run under the table, where she was safe from overenthusiastic toddlers.
Ava pouted. "You is mean! 'Mere, Mittens!" She made as if to run after the cat.
"No you don't, imp!" her father said, and caught her in his arms. "You've bothered poor Mittens enough."
Ava squirmed angrily. "Put me down, Papa! I play with Mittens!"
"Mittens is tired. She needs a nap."
"No!" the little girl bawled. Then she tried to wriggle out of his arms.
"Ava, stop it!" he cried, nearly falling as the child's struggles made him off balance and he had to grab the table before he fell. "Quit wriggling right now and leave that cat alone or else you'll be in time out!"
His daughter sniffled then and howled, "No! No time out!"
"Then behave," he ordered wearily, thinking it had been much easier when Belle was home. He patted the child on the back, as she was now crying all over his shirt. "Okay! Okay! You're acting like I beat you." He rocked her back and forth and then recalled he needed to start making the cheese sauce for the macaroni. "Hey, listen to me. You want to help cook? Papa needs your help."
He gestured and all the ingredients for the cheese sauce were emptied into a medium-sized pot. He turned on the stove, then said, "Ava, want to stir it?"
She abruptly quit bawling and looked up from his shoulder. "Me cook, Papa?"
"Yes, you cook with me," he assured her. "Now stir the cheese sauce." He handed her a long wooden spoon.
"Me stir it!" she cried and then she plunged the spoon into the sauce and began to stir.
Sauce spattered all over.
Gold groaned. Why had he ever thought this was a good idea? Belle never seemed to have these problems.
Page~*~*~*~Break
During the next three days, she saw Mr. Gold and Ava every day. And every day she found herself looking forward to seeing him, if only for a few hours at a time. Every day he would ask her to hold the chipped cup, but after what had happened the first time, she was wary, and would refuse.
Then he would stare down at it and shake his head and put it away again in the velvet bag.
She couldn't help but think he was somehow . . . disappointed with her for doing so, but he never said anything.
Then again, he didn't need to. His expressive dark eyes said it all.
Ava was like a ray of sunshine at times, jumping on the bed, and running all over the hospital room, exploring every nook and cranny of it.
She made Belle exhausted just watching her, and Gold was forever taking something out of her little hand and saying, "Don't touch that, Ava!" and giving her something else, like her doll or a book, instead. He carried a small yellow tote bag with him, containing toys, clothes, and diapers, she had grown so used to seeing him with it that it almost seemed funny when he put it down and sat in the chair next to the bed, leaning his cane against the wall.
One afternoon, her lunch arrived while they were visiting, and Bobby took one look at it and wrinkled his nose, saying, "That looks distinctly unappetizing, dearie. Tell you what, you wait here with Ava while I go and get something you can actually eat." He took his cane and rose to his feet. "Ava, stay with Mama."
The child looked up from playing with her doll on the bed. "Where you goin'?"
"To get lunch. Be right back." He waved goodbye and exited the room.
Belle glanced uneasily at the little girl, wondering if she would start crying for her father.
But Ava just snuggled beside her and continued playing with her soft doll, singing a little song. "Mary, Mary quite contrary, how does your garden grow?"
To her surprise, she knew the rest of the words. "With silver bells, and cockle shells and pretty maids, all in a row!"
Mother and daughter sang the rest of the song together, and then Ava began to sing another one.
"Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep . . ."
Mr. Gold returned about ten minutes later carrying a brown paper bag and some plastic cups filled with iced tea with lemon and heard the sound of two voices singing, "Pussycat, pussycat where have you been? I've been to London to visit the queen. Pussycat, pussycat what did you do there?"
"I frightened a little mouse under a chair," he finished as he entered the room.
He looked around and saw Ava in Belle's lap, her little dark head leaning trustingly against her mother's chest, lisping the nursery rhymes she'd learned from Belle reading them to her at bedtime.
"You look like you're having a good time," he smiled at them. Then he waved a hand and the rubber piece of chicken was vanished off the table and he placed the brown bag on it. "And now, let's eat." He started to remove the food from the bag and put it on the table. "Hamburgers from Granny's diner. With iced tea and French fries."
"Yummy!" Ava cheered and reached for one.
"Wait!" Belle said. "I need to cut it first," she told the toddler, and then she took the plastic fork and knife Gold handed her and did so. Once the hamburger was cut into pieces, she allowed Ava to eat it, then she took the one Robert—Bobby—proffered her and bit into it.
The most delicious taste exploded on her tongue. "This . . . is amazing!" she cried, and took another bite.
Bobby grinned and held out a packet of ketchup. "Try it with this. It's ketchup. Condiments are this world's most powerful magic."
He showed her with his own burger how to put the ketchup on it.
Belle copied him, than ate another bite. It tasted even better.
"Mmm!"
She looked down . . . and saw Ava happily stuffing another piece of hamburger into her mouth, which was smeared with ketchup. She looked adorable.
"Oh, dear!" Belle giggled. "Ava, you're a mess!"
"You should have seen her last night, dearie. She had spaghetti all over her, even in her hair," Gold laughed, eating his own hamburger.
"Yummy!" Ava then held out a piece of hamburger to Belle. "Mama eat some!"
The next thing she knew, she had a piece of hamburger shoved in her mouth and ketchup all over her chin.
"Uh . . . somehow I get the feeling this has happened before," she said, reaching for a napkin.
"Mama a mess! Yay!" cheered Ava, and both her parents started laughing.
Mr. Gold felt they were making progress, and this was the best hamburger date he'd ever been on.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
The next day, Dr. Whale came by and said he wanted to do another CAT scan and MRI on Belle to make sure there was no swelling or bleeding inside her head. So she spent several hours in the morning getting the tests done and when they brought her back to her room, she was exhausted and wanted to sleep.
She had just drifted off when she heard the sound of a throat being cleared. Thinking it was Bobby, she sat up and opened her eyes. "Hi. I was just taking a nap, they had me in testing all morning."
"I'd like to take a nap too, love," crooned a man in a long black leather trench coat, breeches, and boots. He had a hook for a hand and was devilishly handsome with deep blue eyes and dark hair and a wicked grin. "Right beside you."
She felt suddenly uneasy. "Who are you? What are you doing in here?"
"Why, don't you remember me, love? It's Killian. We used to be engaged . . . well it was your father's idea, actually . . . way back when."
"I don't know you. And I thought . . . I was married . . . I mean . . ." she was floundering, and becoming more and more alarmed by the minute.
Hook laughed. "Why, love, if you don't even remember being married to that crocodile, then I'd say it wasn't much of a marriage, now was it? Forget him!" He advanced on her.
Belle shrank away from him. "Get out!"
"Now that's no way to welcome your betrothed!" Killian snickered. "I heard you'd lost your memory, but maybe that's just a trick so you don't have to go home with that dried up old crocodile, huh? Because if it was me you were married to, love, you'd never forget anything I did with you. Let's see if you remember this!"
Before she could protest further, he was on top of her, his hands clasping her to him in a rough embrace and his mouth kissing her hard.
She struggled against him, but he was very strong and she couldn't get enough leverage lying down the way she was, covered with a blanket.
She beat at him futilely, and tried to scream, but he was smothering her, pressing her back against the pillows. Get off me! Get off me! Get off—!
Suddenly, Hook was ripped away from her and flung across the room.
"You miserable son-of-a-bitch!" growled Gold, standing before the pirate, his hand sparkling with eldritch force. "How dare you try and hurt my wife?"
"Your wife? She doesn't even remember you!" sneered Hook. "Guess it takes a real man to give her some memories back, eh?"
Gold's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to give you some memories all right! Of how it feels to become a rug and get beaten, you piece of shit!" Then he took his cane and slammed it down on Hook's shoulder, knocking the other man to the floor as he attempted to get up.
Hook grunted as Gold's cane struck him over and over.
"It's your fault she's like this!" the sorcerer snarled. "You did this to her! You took her away from me!"
Hook held up his hand in front of his face. "Hey, mate! You took my hand, so she was fair game! Plus why would she choose you over me? I'm not an evil monster!"
Gold felt as though his heart would shatter. A red mist coated his vision. Half-sobbing, he continued to batter away at the other man, screaming, "Don't you ever hurt her again! Miserable bastard!"
Then arms were around him and a familiar voice was whispered, "Mr. Gold—Bobby—don't! Don't do this! He wants you to hurt him, don't you see? To prove he's right. But I know he's not, Bobby! You're not a monster. Now stop it! He's not worth killing over!"
Gold swallowed convulsively, trying to get control of his rampaging temper. He lowered his cane reluctantly. "He hurt you," he whispered hoarsely. "I want to kill him for that. Back in our old world, he was a thief, and he hasn't changed. He still wants to take what doesn't belong to him."
"I know. I know," she murmured, pressing herself against him. "But he didn't succeed. I'm still here . . . and I'd never choose him over you, even if you were the last two men on earth. Because he's rotten to the core. And you're nothing like him. I don't need my memories back to see that."
Gold felt his heart thrill to hear those words out of her mouth, and he felt a sudden heat shoot through him when she grasped him about the waist. She might not remember him, but a part of her preferred him to any other, even handsome thieving pirates.
"Okay, sweetheart. I'm calling hospital security." He pulled out his cell and punched in a number, reading it right off the wall in front of him.
Hook groaned at his feet and lay still.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
After security and hospital personnel had come and questioned Gold and Belle about Hook's assault on her and Gold had filed charges and a restraining order against the other man, and Hook had been hauled away in cuffs after being looked over by the emergency room doctor on call, Belle huddled on the bed with Bobby's arms around her.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he crooned to her. "I'm here. Right here."
She clung to him. "I'm okay. Just . . . shook up. Where's Ava?"
"I dropped her off at Ruby's. She's off today and offered to watch her for a bit. Good thing too. Are you sure you're all right, Belle?"
"Yes. He . . . didn't have the chance to do anything to me except kiss me," she made a face. "Who is he? He . . . acted like I knew him. He said . . . he said he was engaged to me."
"Maybe he was, before you met me, dearie," Bobby snorted, rubbing a hand down her back. "But you broke it off with him long before you married me. he was the one who caused you to lose your memory. He kidnapped you from your job at the library and was trying to get out of Storybrooke with you and he crashed the car into a tree. . ."
She rubbed her forehead. "What else? Bobby, what else did he do?"
"It might be easier . . . if you tried to remember yourself," he murmured. He withdrew the cup from its velvet bag. "Will you try again, dearie?"
She took the chipped cup and held it.
"Focus," he urged softly.
She closed her eyes.
The cup began to glow again, purple and gold light spilling inbetween her fingers to fall across her lap like a warm fuzzy blanket.
Once again she was in the great room of the castle, only this time she was sitting on the table, in a blue and white dress, next to her golden-skinned imp. He was holding the chipped cup in his hands, his head cocked to one side.
"What happened to your family?" she asked him.
"What happened . . . is I'm a difficult man to love," he admitted. "My wife . . . ran off with another man, she wanted more than I could give her. I was a spinner, the best in my village, but she wanted . . . more than that. She wanted a life of . . . excitement and adventure. She wasn't content to live simply . . . so she left me . . ."
"I found clothes . . . in a chest while I was cleaning . . . they look too small to be a man's . . . more like a child's . . . a boy's . . ." she gazed at him questioningly.
"There was a boy . . . my son . . ."
"What happened to him?"
"I lost him. Lost him to the promises of a slick-tongued piper called Peter Pan . . . and because I was the monster you see before you, the sorcerer known as the Dark One."
"He was stolen away then?"
"Yes. Though some would say I drove him away with my cursed self . . . like I said, dearie, I'm a difficult man to love."
"Maybe that's because you haven't found the right person yet," she murmured.
"What do you mean?"
"To me, love is layered. Love is . . . a mystery to be uncovered."
He laughed then, the sound bitter and mocking. "There's not much of a mystery to me. What you see is what you get."
"I don't believe that. You're not a monster. If you were . . . you'd not have brought me here, to be your assistant, to help you with your magical research. But you made a deal with me, because you still love your son and you want to find him . . ."
"True. But that seems impossible now."
"Nothing is impossible. You just have to believe. And you can make it happen." She put a hand on his chest. "I can feel your heart beating. And it beats like any other man's."
"I'm not a man."
"Once you were . . . and you can be again. What the heart loves once, it can love again."
"I'm not looking for love. I'm looking for a portal to a land without magic . . ."
More memories flashed before her, more moments when she recalled scenes of a life she had lived with the man beside her . . .holding him close on a winter's night, snuggled under a mohair blanket in front of the fire, reading about how to make portals, watching him spin gold at his wheel, pulling down the drapes to let in the sunlight and falling backwards off the ladder . . . only to be caught in his arms . . .
She kissed him, kissed him with all the passion and fire within her, and as she did so, she could feel the dark curse breaking . . . feel him becoming human once more, and she deepened the kiss, pouring all of her love, all of her passion, all of her soul into that one act . . . and the Dark One's spirit fled wailing into the void . . . and Rumplestiltskin was freed . . .
She opened her eyes, feeling them mist with tears.
"What is it, dearie?"
"I . . . remember . . . I kissed you . . . and it broke . . . your curse broke . . ." her hands clenched convulsively upon the tea cup.
"I know. It was True Love's Kiss. You shattered my curse, and made it possible for me to use my spinning wheel to spin portals to other realms. Together we could open doors once locked to us, and we did. Do you remember going to Neverland?"
"I . . . remember a jungle . . . it was dark and boiling hot there . . . I didn't like it . . . and . . . I remember coming home . . . and finding out that I was having a baby . . ."
"That was Ava, dearie. And so we had to wait to find Bae, wait until she was old enough to go with us, only the Evil Queen cast the Dark Curse before we could use my wheel."
"Why?"
"Because she wanted revenge upon Snow White for an old wrong. And she was determined that if she could not have her happy ending, no one should. So she took away everyone's happiness, by sending them here, to a place where no one would have their memories, or magic, or even their family. And she would rule all, unchallenged."
"Then we . . . weren't together either?"
"Well, we were a different story, because I . . . I created that curse. You see, I was trying to find Bae, and I kept failing . . . that was one of my failed spells . . . and I bargained it away to Regina for some ruby slippers, only to find out they couldn't take me where I needed to go either . . . and she got the Dark Curse, well a partial version, anyhow. Regina tinkered with it, using an old spellbook belonging to her mother, and created the curse that trapped us all here. But what she didn't know was that no curse last forever, and it can always be broken by True Love . . . or the child of True Love. And that's how Emma broke it."
"I . . . remember the day it came on us . . .it was like an ocean of darkness rolling over the land . . . and you said we couldn't escape it. You held me in your arms, and inbetween us was Ava and you said . . .there's only one thing I can do for us, and that's to make sure we're together no matter what . . ."
"And I used my magic to spin a web of protection around us, so that even though we were caught in the curse, we still remained together in this realm, even though we forgot who we were, we were still a family," he told her.
"Until now. My amnesia . . . has torn us apart," she whimpered.
"Not forever," he whispered, cupping her chin in his hands. "Do you trust me, Belle?"
"I . . ." she hesitated. Then she recalled all the times he had been with her in this realm, coming to see her despite being a stranger to her, his compassion and love for his daughter, his patience and kindness, his defense of her this afternoon.
"Yes. I trust you."
"Love is memory, Belle."
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.
At first his kiss was gentle, a mere touching of lips, the softest glide across her mouth. But as she relaxed against him, reveling in the feel of his lips on hers, he deepened it, and she felt his tongue on hers, and passion sizzled between them, coursing through her like fine wine, and fire etched her limbs, blazing a scorching trail throughout her entire being.
True Love breaks all curses.
Love is memory.
His kiss coaxed, summoned, demanded. There was magic in it, the magic of a love so great it transcended time and space and all things seen and unseen. It was all at once stormy and passionate, gentle and soothing. It was all she had ever wanted, and all she had ever needed.
It swept through her in an unstoppable torrent . . . and suddenly she was kissing him back, like she had a thousand times before . . .because she was his and he was hers . . . her husband, her one true love, her other self . . .
"Rumplestiltskin!" she gasped, drawing back slightly, as the blocks within her mind crumbled to dust. "I remember . . . I love you!"
"Yes. And I love you too." There were tears on his cheeks as he hugged her to him.
His Belle was back. And nothing would ever separate them again.
Page~*~*~*~*~Break
Ruby looked up as a familiar figure entered the back room of the diner. "Belle? You're out of the hospital?"
"Ruby!" she cried, running and hugging her friend. "I'm okay! I remember . . . everything now!"
"You do? That's great! But how?"
"Because love is memory," Belle said simply, then she released her friend to peer around her at the table at the little girl coloring with some large crayons on a piece of paper. "Ava! It's time to go home!"
Ava lifted her head and a smile stretched across her face from ear to ear.
The crayons scattered across the table and onto the floor as she shoved her chair back and ran to her mother. "Mama! Mama!"
Belle grabbed her up into her arms and kissed her, laughing. "Yes, it's your mama, baby girl! I'm all better now and it's time to go home."
Cradling her child close, Belle Gold went out into the sunshine, to where her husband, Robert Rumplestiltskin Gold, waited with the Cadillac, her memories restored and her heart full of love, to begin her life anew.