The sun fell from the sky and night took over. The post dusk atmosphere at Granny's Diner was subdued but happy. A few people were scattered among the booths. Regina sat across from Robin as his story unfolded, a daring heist. His face light up with the fond memories. Every couple of minutes Regina glanced past her love's head at the solitary figure of Rumpelstiltskin. Sitting in his usual booth, he'd been there for over half an hour.
"Regina?" Robin's English accent broke into Regina's distraction. "You seem a little distracted, is everything all right?"
Darkness was setting in quickly as walls of books hung with anticipation of tomorrow. The rhythmic tap of heels sped as they realised the time. The door opened before the heels reached it. The shadow of a figure darkened the doorway like the sky outside.
A smile broke across Regina's face, dragging her head into a nod, "I'm fine… it's just, Rumpel has been sitting alone for over half an hour. I wonder where Belle is."
"Perhaps she's just late?"
A frown climbed along Regina's mouth, "Without calling ahead?" Shaking her head, Regina fixed her eyes back on Robin's, "it's probably nothing."
The pleasantries began again when Ruby slid out from the counter and crossed to Rumpelstiltskin. Regina tried to concentrate on her love and his story but her eyes were drawn once more to Rumpel and now Ruby. Ruby's face was wrinkled with concern and Rumpel's face was the stone mask he wore whenever he didn't want to show what was happening behind his eyes.
"I'm sorry Robin, but I think something is wrong."
Regina crossed to Rumpel's booth followed by the affectionate smile of her love. Rumple was not pleased to see either of them but Regina persisted.
The sound of the heel's heart seemed so loud to her that she was sure the figure in the door could hear it too.
"Sorry, we don't open until tomorrow," said the heels nervously.
The darkness shifted as its occupant nodded then a thin hand shot into the light. There was a flash of metal near the heels' arm. A dull pain spread along her arm carrying a flood of confusion with it. The heels scrambled for her phone but she barely had time to pull the black square from her bag before the weight of thirty years of nightmares dragged her to the ground.
"Is everything ok?" Regina asked, glancing from one disapproving face to the other.
Rumpel sighed and, using his cane to pull himself laboriously from his seat said, "Belle isn't answering her phone. We're going to look for her."
His arm snaking around Regina's shoulder, Robin smiled, "Perhaps we can help?"
The swish of Rumpel's jacket and the click of his cane on the lino was not an invitation, but it was as good as they were going to get. Four heads moved out of the Diner to meet Emma on the nearly deserted high street. Soon a convoy of five made their way to the imposing clock tower that housed the library.
The air seemed to thicken as the five noticed the library door; it gapped ajar. Rumpel pushed the hanging wood away with his cane. As one nervous huddle they moved into reception. The bottom dropped from Rumpel's stomach as they saw a figure strewn across the floor. Belle, her skin pale, her eyes closed and her long brown hair spread across the carpet by her fall. Rumpel knelt beside her. Her name echoed through the thick air as he called to her again and again. Eventually Regina placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You know what has happened here," she stammered as if she didn't want it acknowledged.
He didn't seem to actually move but before Regina had finished her sentence Rumpel was on his feet, his face a centimetre from hers.
"You. Don't. Get. To. Speak," he whispered.
Emma felt her body move forward so she stood between them. "You two may know what's happened here but I don't! What's happened?" she demanded.
A muscle twitched next to Rumples mouth as he turned to face Emma. His eyes held a darkness that Emma had not seen in a while. He looked about to answer her before he knelt back beside his love's body. Emma's eye brows inched up her forehead as she turned to Regina.
Regina sighed, "It's called the nightmare curse…" her voice wavered, "it's a bit like a sleeping curse."
Rumpel was standing again, "We move her, somewhere safer. Then we will break this curse or you will pay the price," his voice was quiet and trembled with rage that he was struggling to control. His eyes never left Regina's face.
"Hold on," said Emma, her eyes flickering between them, "how is this Regina's fault?"
A shudder passed through Regina's body, "I'll tell you, while we walk," turning to Rumpel she continued, "where are we taking her?"
Rumple pulled the limp frame of Belle into his arms, "Home," he said moving toward the door.
The swaying figure of Rumpel moved doggedly ahead of them. His cane swung slowly on his arm with every other step. Emma gripped Regina's arm.
"How is this possibly your fault? You didn't do this…" she hissed
Regina's grimace did not suit her face; it aged her, "This is a curse that only works on people who have known true suffering. Belle has only really suffered at my hand… I ripped her away from her love, I locked her away for twenty-eight years, and the list goes on. She said it herself, I have done nothing but mentally and physically torture that women since I met her," her voice was laden with guilt that Emma never heard there before. Regina had always seemed so at ease with her past and the suffering she had caused; now that fabrication was beginning crumble.
Hardly any attention was payed to the cluttered and beautiful home of Rumpel and Belle, each of the five unlikely allies were held captive by their own thoughts. The grinding of springs as Rumpel lowered Belle onto the bed dragged everyone back to the horrible present. Emma spoke first.
"If this is like a sleeping curse isn't all we need true love's kiss?"
Seeming to crumple as he moved, Rumpel sat down on the bed next to Belle.
"That depends, on how far gone she is," his words shunted into place as if he wasn't really saying them, they just fell from his body. His fingers gently twitched a lock of hair out of Belle's face and he lent slowly over her. Their lips locked and Rumpel was reminded horribly of weeks spent watching Belle with no memory and his failed attempt to revive her. The air shone for a moment as if it was laden with tiny bolts of electricity. The sharp sent of tin filled the room and a light wind disrupted the still night. Regina shivered with the power of the kiss but Belle remained as inert as before.
"What do you mean 'how far gone she is'?" asked Ruby with a shudder.
Neither Regina nor Rumpel answered for several seconds. Eventually Regina met the wolf's eyes her hands wringing together.
"The nightmare curse comes in stages…" Regina begun, "after about an hour victims can reach a tipping point," her eyes drew closed as if that would hide her from reality, "when they have retreated so far into their own fear and suffering that they are beyond the call of true love's kiss."
Filled with cold anger Rumpel's eye's met Regina's, "in Belle's case this is even more likely." His chest was rising and falling rapidly.
"Why?" asked Emma quietly.
His whole body moving, Rumpel turned to face her, "because of Lacey. Lacey is a place of great fear for Belle so when she retreats into her fear she gets more out of touch with who she truly is."
"How long has she been under?" asked Robin in a hollow voice.
The words spilled out of Regina, like the deluge of an overflowing drain in a storm, "if she isn't responding it has been at least one hour, this means that very soon she will progress to the final stage," the temperature of the room seemed to drop as several seconds passed without any movement, eventually Emma built up the courage to whisper.
"The final stage?"
Regina's body shook as her reply slithered between her recalcitrant lips, "It's known as the screaming."
Rumpel again seemed to move without passing between two points. He stood beside Regina; his voice had lost the dangerous edge now but held a keen desperation that was almost more terrifying.
"You've seen Cora use this curse; do you know how else it can be broken?"
Regina's gaze met Rumpel's but before an answer could escape a noise changed everything. Belle's back arched, denting the mattress and a scream was thrown from her. The sound rolled on out of her as every fear that had ever haunted her gripped her heart. The sound died with her breath and was replaced with a rasping gasp before another scream could begin. Rumpel's face twisted with rage and helplessness. He ran and fell to his knees at her side. His arms wrapped around her and held her as tightly as he could. Belle continued to scream and thrash in Rumpel's arm as he tried to comfort a woman who could not hear him. He jerked to face Regina.
"Please?" he rasped
Regina's whole face seemed to shift; her eyes flickered as if she were skimming an invisible book. Her hands moved as if to pluck an answer from the air. Like it had been struck with the light of sunrise her face lit up with a memory. Hesitation stalled her for a moment but she forged ahead with a last ditch attempt to reverse what she had help to do.
"There may be something," she muttered her smug grin flaring across her face for a moment, "the only act of true love more powerful then true love's kiss."
Like a flinch Rumpel nodded and began to unbutton his shirt. Emma staggered slightly, uncertain what was happening, something she articulated.
"And what would that be?"
Regina spun to face her, a desperate glee in her eyes, "A blood transfusion," she looked back to Rumpel who was removing Belle's jacket, "Do you still have your supplies in the basement?"
"Of course."
Without another word Regina ran out of the room. Several scream-pierced minutes passed before she returned with a bundle of ragged leaves and a knife. She stepped close to Rumpel and raised the knife.
"Ready? One, two… three…" she made three gashes in his skin above his heart. He winced with each one before taking the knife from her. Rumpel's hands shook slightly as he made the same criss-crossed gash above Belle's heart. The leaves fell into Rumpel's hand and he pressed them to his gash. Several terse seconds passed before Rumpel's name split the air. Belle's screams where no longer incoherent but fell into shape around his name.
"Rumpel!"
The weeds moved like time was frozen, traveling from his chest to hers. With all the downward force he could find Rumpel pressed the blood dripping weeds to Belle's chest. She began to kick and convulse, her whole frame shuddered.
"Good," said Regina, "this is a good sign. It's not an easy journey. You must keep the weed pressed to the wound; it loses contact and we will lose her."
Tears fell silently along his aged cheeks as his frame shook with Belle's, Rumpel longed to remove the weed, to end the seizure but he knew he could not. Belle slumped back into the blankets in a pool of sweat. She lay still for a moment before that rasping breath returned. Her eyes grew wide and flew around the room, her voice too hoarse to scream. Fear-filled eyes fell on Rumpel who had sunk slowly to the ground; his tears were no longer held at bay but flowed freely across his face.
"Belle…" he whispered, his hand moved shakily towards her and came to rest on her shoulders. Belle was still shivering but her face relaxed as she looked into Rumpel's. She fell sharply into his hug and neither let go for a long time. When finally they broke apart Belle's face was lined with tears of her own.
Small and golden, little bumps in the sweeping hillside, was a village. Clustered buildings, stained by the sun's glow and straddling a river bend. An old woman, her ragged greying hair tumbling around an alcohol-reddened face, sat idly on a tiny veranda. Her slow eyes struggled slightly to focus on the children running around her home. The sweet air rung with their laughter and its high timbre pieced her drunken stupor. A young round face swum into focus before her, a boy, her grandson? Yes that was it.
"Grandi!" the boy called his laughter now in his voice, "Look."
Proudly the child presented a grubby stone. The old woman stared at it for several seconds, blinking as it glittered with different colours.
"A stone?" she managed at last.
The boy sighed and adopted the knowing grin and smug eyebrows favoured by eight year olds who thought they'd seen it all, "not just a stone Grandi! Look at how it sparkles!" his joy and pride radiated from his small body but failed to penetrate the shield of his Grandi's intoxication.
Slowly the old woman's face changed, a giddy grin relaced her confounded frown, "tis really doin' 'at?"
The boy smiled as her saw her smile, "Yes Grandi, I did it, I made it sparkle!"
"You did 'is?" the strange smile stayed on his Grandi's face as the boy nodded, "how?" she asked.
The boy hesitated, then shrugged, "I'm not sure," he said deliberately, "I sort of wanted it to so it did…" a frown fought with his smile.
Her hair shook as, unsteadily, she nodded, "Ah… you ha' it then," she cackled at his confusion, "the magic son. Your ol' Pop ha' it too."
The boy's face light up like a carnival ride, "Magic?" he breathed.
The old woman's face turned suddenly strict and her eyes shone with dark glee as blurred images of gold and wealth flopped across her inner eye, "Ya kno' magic needs to be controlled don' you son, you mu't learn to do thi'."
The boy stared at his Grandi for a moment or two trying to think of a reason he should have known that, eventually he said, "No, I didn't know that," defeat threatened before he gasped, "you could teach me!" he said jumping excitedly on the aged wood that held them.
"Oh oh oh," his grandmother slurred and giggled, "no' I lad. Bu' I kno' a man who could, a po'erfull wizzzard."
The boy couldn't believe his luck, "Will he help me?!" he gasped, "will he Grandi?"
The old woman grinned that odd grin once more, "I don' see why no', why don' you ask 'im?"
"How?" he asked, whispering in his eagerness.
"Call 'im; 's name 's Rumpelssstiltskin."
"I was trapped." Belle muttered "back in that place, I couldn't get the door open; I couldn't get to you…" Belle's eyes revolved in her skull trying to see as much of the room as possible.
"Hey… shhh it's ok you were dreaming, I'm here now you have nothing to fear," Rumpel pressed his lips to her forehead and ran a hand through her hair, "You're safe now."
Belle's gaze came to rest on Regina's uncertain figure. Fear coursed through her making her arms and stomach contract. Trying to move as far away from Regina as she could Belle pulled free of Rumpel and staggered towards the opposite wall. Regina threw her arms up in a sign of surrender.
"Belle," she stammered, "I'm not going to hurt you…"
Belle fell from the bed and was caught by Ruby. Ruby held her shoulders steady, the wolf whispered reassurance,
"It's ok Belle, she just helped save you."
Belle's brow knotted in confusion. Rumpel heaved himself across the bed and met his darling's eyes.
"Where you were in your dream is not here. Regina is not going to hurt you anymore. You know this otherwise you would never have made me promise not to kill her."
There was a soft thud as Regina's arms fell by her sides, "You made him promise not to kill me? After all I put you through?"
Belle's gaze met the Queen's and a fiery defiance flooded her face, "Of course I did, how can I bring any good into this world by giving into hatred?"
Downstairs and several minutes later Belle slumped into a couch and shakily took the tea profiteered by Ruby. With a muttered 'thank you' she watched the faces of her friends and lover.
"What now?" she asked.
Rumpel lowered himself into the couch next to her, "We need to find out who did this to you." he said. At the look on her face he added hastily, "so Sheriff Swan can arrest them."
Belle's head shook and her hand clawed at the chair arm, "Well, I can't tell you much. He never left the shadows. I don't even know what he looks like!"
"You sure it's a he?" asked Emma
With a shrug Belle nodded, "I can tell you he was thin and pale… or at least his hand was that's all I saw of him."
Emma spun to face Ruby, "Could you smell him out?"
Ruby's eyes flickered closed as she inhaled deeply through her nose. A frown slide along her pretty lips and her brows creased. Eventually she shook her head and opened her eyes.
"I'm afraid I can't, there are too many trails crossing each other!" her face and shoulders slumped together and a pout replaced her frown, "sorry," she said in tones of defeat.
A contemplative silence descended through the house. The silence was beginning to take on a hue of desperation. When a memory struck Regina she jumped to her feet and crossed to the couch.
"I've remembered something mother used to brag about," she began and faltered, uncertain Rumpel or Belle would take her advice. Rumpel's raised eye brows invited her to continue, "in order to perform this curse you need to possess magic of your own, the magic in the curse is not enough. Whoever did this has their own power and therefore their own signature."
A frown of confusion now tugged at Belle's features, "I've never heard of a magical signature, and unless they can be traced I can't see how a signature can help."
Olive skinned features pulled into an apologetic frown, "Well that's because it's very rare that they exist and they only work within certain curses."
Rumpel lent back in the couch, "and as for tracing one, it's not possible."
A nod shook Regina's hair and she tugged at the space in front of her, "but we can use it to help identify the culprit."
Ruby moved till she was sitting on the couches arm, hugging her tea in her hand, "How does it work?"
"They'll be in the dream, an echo of them anyway. If we can identify the signature within Belle's dream we basically have a description of curser, enough to start a search."
Eyebrows climbing up her forehead, Belle's eyes adopted an incredulous sparkle, "You want me to tell you about my nightmare?" she asked her voice rising, "The woman who kept me in a cell for 30 years?!"
Regina's gaze wavered and hit the floor. Rumpel shifted through the couch until he was facing Belle. His left hand cupped her cheek titling her eyes to meet his. His other hand wrapped around her wrist, his black-brown eyes soft he whispered.
"Tell me."
A heavy cloak dragged at his shoulders. His hand stung where he had cut it on brambles and the sky was growing dark. The trees twisted around each other and clamoured for the sun. The path had long ago ended, now trunks as thick as he was tall blocked the eight-year-old's passage. As the sun hid behind another branch the boy decided he had come far enough. Panting and huffing he pulled himself atop a fallen tree trunk and looked at the dense forest. Bubbling, his stomach clenched with excitement; he was going to learn magic! With a deep breath and a new stance the boy called out,
"Rumpelstiltskin!" he yelled, his thin voice sucked quickly away by the immense nature surrounding him, "Rumpelstiltskin, I- I- summon thee!"
The child's voice was fragmented by anticipation but the trees around him showed no sign of changing, no figure emerged from their trunks in a cloud of smoke and no Dark One materialised. Perhaps he's just busy… or on his way… The boy rationed. Tugging his cloak closer to him as the night brought its cold the boy slid slowly down the trunk and sat at its base. Time seemed to trickle by. He must be nearly here! The boy thought at last and staggered to his feet. The cold had wormed its way through his muscles making them ach and stiff. Darkness had truly descended now and the trees hugged together in the cold. Any anticipation he had was now forced away by the numbness in his fingers, he blew on them to warm them. The forest was alive with night-time noises that a lack of light played with and amplified. The crunch of broken braches on the forest floor sent a tingling down the child's spine, suddenly all he wanted was a thick wall between him and the imposing giants that were trees. He's never gonna come… whispered a malicious voice from the base of the boy's skull; He never was for a peasant like you! Really? Did you think anyone would care if you can make rocks glow?! Thin arm shivering in his threadbare clothes the boy began to cry, as he hadn't for a long time. The tears were hot on his chilled cheeks and blurred the gloomy forest before him. The crunching of what must be footsteps was louder. The swish of a blade, or was that the clash of teeth? A howl in the distance was enough to keep him awake in his bed at night and now it seemed infinitely more terrifying. Horrible faces loomed from the bark and in the branches of every tree. RUN! He thought as a thud sent his heart racing. Heart shaking his chest till he thought his ribs might break the boy ran. Feet scampered clumsily across the forest floor. Roots jumped out at him and grabbed at his ankles. The murky trees seemed never to end. Brambles wrapped around his wrist leaving deep gashes across his skin. Tears mixed with blood as the boy tumbled and hit the road. The cold dirt of the road rubbed into his broken skin making it sting more than before. A rough hand grabbed his shoulder and dragged him to his feet.
"Where have you been?!" snapped a harsh voice. The arm spun him round till he faced the angry eyes of his eldest brother, "You little twerp! Farther is furious, you were meant to coop the chickens and now they've all scampered. I swear if he doesn't give you the belt then I will! First you shame us all with your claims of magic and then you lose all our chickens, I don't know why mother bothers with you!"
An inverted gaze and shivering frame gave Belle a vulnerability that few had seen. Her voice shook as much as she did. The light seemed to slink out of the room sucking the heat with it.
"Ok…" her voice was tiny and broken, "I was back, back in the asylum. I could hear Regina… laughing. When I- when I turned around she was at the door forcing it shut. I tried to get to the door before it closed but I might as well have never moved.
"I could hear things outside, screams and… other things. But the window was too high, I couldn't see out. I tried climbing onto the bed to see, but it seemed so much higher than it used to. The bed frame was sharp and…I could eventually see through the bars but my hands were bleeding," her hands clenched each other until her knuckles where white. An aged hand slid between her slim figures, prying them apart before regaining the reassuring purchase on her wrist. "When I looked out," her whisper continued, "I could see a twisting forest. And you," her blue eyes met Rumpel's, "you as you were back in the enchanted forest. You were jumping between the trees and- and killing. I thought if I could just get to you, I could stop the darkness in you. But I was trapped!
"I tried the door…" a sob that bore a striking resemblance to a hash laugh shot out of her as a bullet from a gun, "and they were all there, all the dents and scratches from every other time I'd tried the door," her voice was now deeply infused with unshed sobs. She flinched.
"When I tried to get back to the window Lacey was there with that sick smile… she liked it that you were hurting people," her voice had deepened with hatred for her cursed self. Nearly everyone in the room shivered, they mostly knew how it felt to have two lives in your head and how close their cursed selves could get sometimes, "Laughing Lacey let me pass, she wanted me to watch. Outside the window the forest was gone, replaced by my library. Under the window, near the fireplace, where my favourite chair was, there was a guillotine. Someone was going to be beheaded," her eyes screwed shut with the memory, "You, Rumpel, were the one being executed. The Dark One was going to kill you, to take you back to him. A man was there readying the rope. I started screaming out your name! They were going to take you away from me!"
Rumpel tightened his grip on her wrist, "Hey, hey. It's ok. The man, describe him, it could be who we're looking for."
Eyes open now, Belle took a shaky breath and tried to picture Rumpel's executioner, "He was taller then you. And red headed, um, I- I don't know! Pale, maybe blue eyed…"
Now Emma cut in, stepping closer, "Just tell me how old he looked and it'll be enough."
Belles face slouched and tilted to the right, "Young… about twenty or a little older…" her eyes and mouth both tightened in a frown, "sorry that's all I can remember."
Emma's little smile had returned along with a nod, "That's plenty. You did quite well. David and I will get the search together and call you when we know something."
The sun had climbed lower in the sky now and its dying rays struck every glass surface in the room. Stepping through the glittering surroundings Ruby grabbed Emma's arm.
"I'd like to help," she said.
Robin also stepped forward, "Me too, I owe Belle my life and I am an excellent tracker."
This elicited a smile from Emma, "I could use the help."
Red hair vivid against the earthy greens and browns of the forest, the eight year old picked his way along the path lagging behind the green clad figure of his sister.
"Hurry up slow poke!" she called to him, "if we don't get home soon Farther will get mad."
The boy only shrugged, Father would probably be mad anyway, what difference did being late make? He did pick up the pace however and had nearly caught up with his sister when a shift to his left caught his eye. A deep red was moving between the trees just a little way into the dense forest. Now both children had stopped moving and voices drifted through the trees. Together the children shot forward and ducked into the bushes that flanked the path. A man walked along in front of them. His clothes held a style preferred by the rich and his skin caught the light in an odd way. Another man sauntered towards him, a hat balance precariously atop run away black hair.
"Ah, Rumpelstiltskin," the man with the hat sneered, "the Brightens send their love… and their hearts," as the man spoke he held out a small ornate box. Dark wood with metal inlays made the young hearts in the bushes skip a beat.
"Magic…" the boy whispered, "that must be him. The wizard Grandi told me about. He can teach me," anticipation sped his words and raised his voice, both men in the forest froze.
"Perhaps somewhere more private," said Rumpelstiltskin with a leer. A flick of his wrist engulfed the pair in deep red smoke.
The boy cried out, his chance was disappearing again! He pushed his way through the snare filled undergrowth.
"Please no! Don't go!" he screamed until his sister's arm wrapped around his shoulders.
"Come on!" she began dragging him backwards toward the path, "Farther will be furious, try again tomorrow, he'll answer you eventually!" she snapped in all her 10 year old wisdom. Wisdom she would regret in the years to come.
Rigid and divided, the many colours of Storybrooke's main street seemed dulled by the consistent cloud cover that turned the sky white. Even the neon signs of Granny's Diner didn't throw their usual exuberance. A figure dawdled up the road, heading away from the docks. A much patched jacket did little to keep out the Maine cold. He had turned up the collar and shoved his hands deep into the pockets but still he shivered. A miserable hunch in his shoulders made him smaller than he was as he tugged irritably at the Diner's door. Feet slapping the floor, the man slouched over to a booth and stared moodily at nothing much. After several moments a sweet scent reached his nose and a shadow fell across his table.
"Hi, what can I get you?" Ruby smiled with genuine servility as the man scowled up at her. His frown seemed to extend to his voice as he muttered a vexed reply.
"Just a coffee, black."
Ruby wanted to say something about the man's lack of manners but her professionalism stopped her. A soft chime from the door rang oddly, opposed to the moment but a welcome reprieve for Ruby as she ran to serve the new customers. The two new comers made odd viewing; a man with a long black cane, a suit and greying hair. He had one arm wrapped around the waist of a young woman with beautiful long brown hair that tumbled over her shoulders and six inch wedges of a startling red. Both the man's suit and the woman's lace coated blue dress seemed entirely too formal for the setting. Ruby smiled at both of them and placed her hand on the woman's shoulder before taking their order.
The newcomers sent a jolt along the red headed man's spine. He flagged Ruby as she passed him, "Who is that man?" he asked urgently.
Eyebrows climbing, Ruby's replay was laden with suspicion, "Mr. Gold…"
The red head shook his head impatiently, "No, in our world, who is he in our world?"
Now Ruby's suspicion set her head straighter on her neck, "Rumpelstiltskin, why?"
The red head's heart gonged in his chest but he was careful to keep his face blank, "No reason, I… I just thought he was someone I knew… sorry to keep you."
The sudden development of manners only deepened Ruby's suspicion but there were orders to fill and it wasn't as if anyone could actually hurt Rumpelstiltskin.
The Sheriff's station was a puddle of soft lamplight held in by misted windows. Four figures were slumped in chairs. Emma slouched in front of a slightly outdated computer. Ruby, David and Robin all watched Emma. The computer was alive with flickering names as the entered description worked its way through the residents of Storybrooke. Pen swinging ideally Emma looked across to her father who shrugged the stiffness from his shoulders.
"How much longer?" he asked, his tone seemed to suggest that this sort of waiting would never have happen in the enchanted forest.
Emma sat forward to read the screen, as she was preparing to answer the flickering stopped and a 'ding' made Robin jump.
"Not much longer, evidently," said Robin a little tersely
Emma's eyes skimmed across the names and photos, "We have six people matching that description. Anyone you recognise?"
All four of them bunched around the desktop as Emma clicked through the suspects. Three clicks later Ruby cried out.
"Go back, him, I've seen him at Granny's, he asked about Mr. Gold."
The image froze on the angry mug shot of a red head with dark blue eyes, like the night sky as the sun sets.
David turned to face her, "What do you mean asked about Gold?"
"He asked who Gold was, he thought he knew him back in our world."
Emma shrugged, "We can ask Belle if any of these men match the man from her dream," she pulled herself to her feet and grabbed her jacket, "David, could you print them out?"
The crackling fire brought a surge of warmth back to Belle's core. Rumpel sat opposite her his eyes locked onto her face. He had wrapped a blanket around her shoulders now he rested his hand on her knee.
"I'm sorry this happened," he said when he couldn't bare the silence anymore.
Belle met his gaze and almost smiled, "You don't need to be sorry, you didn't do this."
Rumpel shrugged, "I suppose you're right, of course. It's just when you cried out… there was nothing I could do and when I could do something," his hand absentmindedly touched his chest above his heart, "the only solution meant cutting you. I can't even heal that, too much of a risk."
The heavy moment was shattered by a sharp knock on the door.
"Gold!" came Emma's voice, "It's us, open up."
Once the six were seated and each hugged a mug of tea Emma pulled out the six photos. Her lean hands spread them across the coffee table.
"I'm sorry Belle, I need you to tell me if any of these are the man from your dream," Emma looked at Belle, expressions of expectance and concern mingled in her features.
Belle sighed and lent forward, her eyes rested on each face for a couple of seconds. Her back straightened suddenly and her hand rested on one of the photos. The man's celestial blue eyes were a hunting feature that's would play across Belle's nightmares for years to come.
"Him," she said pointing now, "He was who I saw in my dream."
Emma looked to Ruby, "You were right, that's him," turning now to Belle, she rested a hand on her shoulder, "Thank you Belle."
Soon Emma, Robin, David and Ruby were making their way along the high street, heading to the docks. The darkness of night was held at bay by tall street lights and the sea breeze bit into their fingers. Just before they reached the road that lead to the sea they turned down a side ally. Here costal houses nestled together in varying blues and greys. Eventually a white, grey smudged house drew in the four. David knocked. The door was pulled open by a young woman with wind whipped red curls that fell to her shoulders and startling blue eyes.
"Yes?" she said a soft Welsh accent giving an interesting slant to the word.
Flashing as it caught the light of the corridor, Emma held up her badge, "Sheriff Swan, is your brother in?"
The woman nodded and turned into the house, "Clive!" she called, "It's for you." The woman turned back to face them, "what's he done this time? Robbed someone? He promised me he'd stop that."
A shadow crossed the hall and there stood Clive. His deep eyes met Emma's and his face drained of colour. With jerking movements Clive turned and ran.
"He's running!" David called as the four spread out backwards. Both David and Robin ran to the right while Ruby and Emma took the left. Ruby and Emma pushed through a side gate into a crowded and over run garden. Clive's cheap sneakers were disappearing over a tumbling wooden fence. Ruby put on a new burst of speed. She was at the fence in the space of a wink, her long fingers wrapping around Clive's hoodie. The young man struggled against her hold but Robin rounded the corner and gripped his arms. Together the four dragged the struggling Clive back into his own garden.
"Clive Hooper, you are under arrest for the…" Emma hesitated "assault of Belle French. Do you understand? You have the right to remain silent, anything you do say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
Annoyance and incomprehension dulled the soft warmth of the sheriff's station for Emma as the evening wore on. The blank, bar sliced face of Clive Hooper was doing nothing to improve her mood. The man had done nothing but sit in the cell and stare out at her. The muffled movement of Regina, David, Ruby and Robin in her office were exaggerated by the silence making the hours seem longer.
"Look," said Emma for what felt like the hundredth time, "what we have on you is as good as a witness statement, we know what you did to Belle, and we even know how you worked the curse. All I want to know is why?" Vacant blue eyes still stared through the bars, "Do you even know Belle?" Emma exclaimed at last.
The office door opened quietly and Regina slithered into the room. She glanced almost nervously at Emma.
"I know you don't want us in here," she said extending her hand to maintain peace, "but I have something to say. He has to know Belle, he may never have met her but the nightmare curse is very specific, he has to have known at least a little of how she suffered. If he didn't he could not be certain the curse would work"
Finally Clive moved and after all her annoyance at his inertness Emma wished he hadn't. Now an insidious tornado of rage was whipping itself into life in the pit of her stomach. Harsh and jerk-like, Clive spat at the floor. His face an ugly scowl, a deranged anger drove words from behind his uneven teeth.
"The girl has not suffered! She was a princess, pampered her whole life. She lived in luxury, wanting for nothing but the indulgence of decadent adventure and a way to feed her ridiculous heroism complex!" His scowl flinched with every word like the slumbering form of a great beast, "True suffering is a life devoid of hope, a life lived in constant fear of the old man and his belt. Suffering is the denial of hope fed to you by an intoxicated old cow who thought you could make her rich! She lived with the great Dark One, probably saw wonder others can only dream of! The Dark One will take a useless princess into his domain but ignore the call of a gifted child." The man suddenly froze, his face settled back to its prior dormancy, he had said too much.
Regina met the man's eyes, cool disbelief driving her eye brows up her forehead, "You did this to get to Rumpelstiltskin, because you summoned him as a child and he did not answer?"
A small battle broke across Clive's features eventually victory of one side brought a snarl to his lips, "Alright," he began softly, "I suppose I am knackered anyhow. No I did not cast that curse as revenge. I cursed that regal bitch because it was the best way to get his attention. The Dark One, the pinnacle of cruelty and dark power, was bound to be impressed with such a display of malice. Perhaps he would finally give me the due I deserved!"
Turgid rage flailed in incomprehension setting Emma's mind ablaze, "Hell of a calling card. You did this to get his admiration?" she finally managed, "Hurting his girl will only get you his rage," another hesitation was punctuated by the dense silence, "In a way you're lucky, we found you first and you went after the person who can stop his rage, as well as the one person most likely to forgive you."
Ruby was now leaning on the door frame, her rage had brought red patches to her pale skin and her eyes glowed an ecliptic lunar gold, "Well you certainly got Rumpelstiltskin's attention. I just hope Belle is more forgiving then I am."
Storybrooke was quiet. The hour of midnight had been and gone filled only with the cumulative breath of a town asleep. Almost every window was dark, only the silvery lights of street lamps and the large lamps on Storybrooke's library clock tower gave a dull glow to the streets. In a comfortable double bed that hugged an orange wall were two slumbering forms. Rumpel had his arms wrapped around Belle's waist while they slept which is probably why he woke so suddenly. Belle's body had stiffened and spasms climbed the lengths of her arms and legs. A low mumbling was spilling from her mouth, escalating with her dream. As unseen horrors clamoured out of her subconscious Belle cried out again and again. Rumpel was sitting up now and as he had so many times in the weeks since Clive's arrest he grabbed Belle's wrist.
"Sweetheart," he called out to her but she didn't react. The growingly familiar and horrible sense of anxiety churned his stomach. She wasn't waking up, the curse must have taken hold again! "Belle, please wake up, it's a nightmare and you need to wake up."
His voice knocked at her slumber and she stilled as he pulled her close. Her eyes opened drowsily.
"Rumpel," she muttered, snuggling into his shoulder her hands tugged him into a tighter hug infused with bedding and sweat.
"It's ok," he whispered. Acceptance of her unspoken apology masqueraded as reassurance, "everything is ok."