Summary: Post the events of 6x19 the Black Fairy, Belle tucks Gideon into bed, and both Belle and Rumple reflect on having hope in the face of hard choices.
A/N: I have a lot of feelings about Rumbelle and the Gold Family going into the finale, and wanted both Belle and Rumple to have a little reflection time. I don't usually go angsty, but I had to write this.
It's kind of a Mother's Day fic, so for all the mothers out there, this is for you. COMMENTS APPRECIATED.
"The things you love are like the puffs of a dandelion weed; they grow wild and happen as they will." Bette Lee Crosby
Belle trailed her fingertips across Gideon's forehead, basking in the simple pleasure of watching her son sleep for the first time. His breath was deep and even, his face serene. The tiny lines around his eyes were smooth, giving him the appearance of a young boy, rather than a man.
It seemed impossible her baby was the same age as she. Experienced parents had told her children grew up in the blink of an eye, but this was ridiculous even for Storybrooke.
Belle pressed her fingers to her mouth, suppressing a delighted giggle. Gideon was a sound sleeper, but not a quiet one. His hair stood on end, the way Rumple's often did when he woke in the morning. Two huge feet poked out from beneath the covers, further affirmation her son was too tall and strong to share a bed with his mother. Every so often he rolled over, snorting as he resettled on the mattress. Belle pushed up from the pillow and tucked the comforter around his legs. Earlier tonight, when Rumple had ushered them toward the stairs and urged them to go to bed, she couldn't resist his suggestion that she stretch out beside Gideon, ease him into his first night of being home.
Their son had been the one to reach out and join hands, seeking reassurance. "Stay until I sleep, Mother?" he murmured, his eyelids drooping.
Belle bit back a sob at his childlike request and clung to him with all her might. No power in hell or any realm could have kept her away.
A fresh tear fell onto the sheets, and Belle's mind wandered to the dog-eared copy of the children's book Love You Forever in the library. In the story, a determined mother drives across town to slip into her grown son's room and rock him to sleep.
"I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be."
Her smile was bittersweet as she recited the title verse. No matter how high he towered over his parents, Gideon would always be their baby. Yet he was also a man full-grown, and the wound of knowing how much she and Rumple missed was a savage gnaw.
Mother hunger wracked her, the pain more acute from seeing Zelena with her baby girl yesterday. After she'd spent those few precious hours rocking, cooing, and playing with little Robin, she'd locked herself in the tiny shop bathroom and sobbed. They could protect Gideon from Emma, retrieve his heart, even banish the Black Fairy, but they couldn't recover his childhood.
They would never watch his mouth form around his first word, run a finger over the sharp point of a baby tooth pushing through his gums, or encourage him to take his first steps on square, chubby feet. Belle hadn't been there to kiss his scrapes and boo-boos when he fell, or to teach him to read, or fly a kite. Rumple had missed the chance to show him magic, push him on the swings, and to teach him the fine art of the spinning wheel. Though perhaps for a few of those joys, it wasn't too late.
Rumple. Since the night they learned Gideon had been taken, her husband had been stoic and sure, her strength and hope in the face of the unthinkable. Belle's heart ached for his suffering, and she felt his agonized choice as though it were her own. What he'd done tonight, facing his mother, was beyond courageous. Learning Fiona had loved him, discovering his true destiny as a savior—she couldn't imagine grappling with so much and banishing his mother all in one evening, even after the torture the Black Fairy had put Gideon through.
Could she have done the same?
Gideon snorted in his sleep, and Belle slipped out of bed and pressed a kiss to his cool forehead. "Love you forever," she whispered, then tiptoed into the hallway and closed the door.
xoxo
Rumplestiltskin stared into the fire while he nursed a glass of whisky. The papers he'd thrown onto the hearth to ignite the embers blackened and curled, consumed by the heat.
He'd done what was necessary tonight—foiled Emma and the heroes, then slid the truth past Belle and Gideon. A flicker of something in his son's eyes told him Gideon suspected more was at stake than what he'd revealed. Clever boy.
Rumple tossed the rest of his drink back, hissing when the liquid scalded his parched throat. Offering his mother the farce of allegiance was the only way to get their son's heart back. Emma, Regina and the others cared only for their own survival, not whether their boy was made whole. He'd meant what he said, about putting Belle and Gideon first. He would protect them when the Final Battle came, or he would die trying.
Until then, he could only pray his family would understand his choice.
"Hey." Belle padded across the carpet to kneel in front of him, and she tilted her chin up, her gaze questioning. A moonbeam stretched across the room, making her eyes silvery, and the long white nightdress she wore shimmered in the creamy light. She looked far too young to be the mother of a twenty-eight year old man.
"Hey." He caressed her cheek, then dropped his hand back into his lap. "I thought you'd be asleep."
She smiled, soft and sad, and shook her head. "How can I rest when I know you're hurting?"
She removed the empty whisky tumbler from his grip and set it on the floor beside his chair. She took his hand, and he rose, allowing her to lead him up the stairs like a child, the way she had guided Gideon upstairs earlier. He turned to her as they passed the closed door next to their room. "Our son?"
"Sleeping…like a baby." She blanched in the dim light, and the cliché's full meaning hit him like a punch in the stomach.
"Oh, sweetheart…" He pulled her against his side and they shuffled into their bedroom in lockstep.
"It's all right. He's home now, thanks to you." She smiled through trembling lips and his heart caught, as it always did when she looked at him that way. Open and trusting. Believing the best. His brave, darling girl.
Bone-weary, he sank down on the edge of the bed and groaned, contemplating going to bed with his clothes on. He reached down to at least remove his shoes, but she brushed his clumsy fingers aside and untied the laces. "Belle, what…"
"Shhhh. You've been taking care of everyone, Rumple," she admonished, easing his wingtips off his feet. "Gideon. Me. Let me take care of you tonight. Please?"
He nodded his assent, then leaned back on his elbows while she removed his shoes and socks, tie and trousers. They traded labored sighs and crawled into bed together, exhausted.
"Come here," she urged, drawing him against her breast.
He didn't have the strength or will to fight her as she eased them back against the pillows and stroked his back. It felt wonderful to be held, to be wrapped in Belle's loving embrace. This time together was their solace at the end of long, difficult days, but the lie of omission between them was an ugly, twisted thing.
The Black Fairy was unpredictable, bent on destruction, and he had no idea what manner of traps lay behind her saccharine promises of a happy family with a happy ending. What if he'd guessed wrong? What if life was about to get worse…again?
He opened his mouth to tell Belle the truth.
"Rumple?" She kissed the top of his head and massaged his scalp with the heel of her hand.
"Hmmm?" His eyes slipped closed as her fingers traveled downward, to circle his temples. All he wanted was to forget, pretend a little while longer.
"What did you promise her in exchange for Gideon's heart?" Belle's voice was soft, void of accusation.
He opened his eyes with a jerk, his body tensing, but she was still holding him close, and he didn't move out of her embrace. "You knew?"
"It took me longer than it should've to figure it out, but yes." She sounded disappointed with herself.
"Belle, I…" He rolled over to his side of the bed, turning to face her. Where to begin, to explain? He searched for words, but there was nothing to offer but weak excuses.
"I'm not angry." She shook her head and smiled. "I'm…a little relieved, actually."
"Relieved? After what she did to Gideon?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Whatever she's done, she is still your mother. You found out a lot about yourself today. A lot of things you've believed for many years you now know aren't true. That you were born to be a coward, a villain." She shook her head. "Your mother loved you; she wanted you. She made terrible choices, but so have I, so have you. She believed she was doing it all for you. If—after learning so much about who your mother really was when you were born—you had been able to kill her without another thought? That's not who you are."
He clenched his teeth. "I should have been stronger. I could have…"
"Rumple, no." She gripped his fingers with both hands, her wedding ring digging into his flesh. "This was a battle for Gideon's heart, and a warrior never emerges from a battle victorious without sacrifice."
"Warrior?" He laughed, the sound bitter and discordant in the peaceful room. "The things I've done…"
"The things you've done have saved this family." She nodded, resolute. "You did it for Gideon, for us. And now he has his heart. He's sleeping next door. Safe."
He released her hands and collapsed against the pillows, exasperated to the point of tears. "How do you do it?" he asked, amazed at her perspective. "Time and again. Aren't you sick of it, Belle? Of me and this endless cycle of pain I drag you through?"
"I promised forever. So did you."
"Ages ago. Before…" He swallowed a sob. Gods, he was tired.
She wiggled over on the mattress until she was half on top of him, then molded her lips to his. The kiss tasted like tears and hope.
She squeezed his shoulders. "Forever doesn't give up. Forever doesn't turn around and walk away when things get hard or when change comes." She rolled them over, cradling his head against her chest once more. "Let it out. Go ahead and cry if you want to. There's no shame here, Rumple. She's your mother."
The dam broke at her urging and he sobbed out the pain of the last several months. He cried for Neal, for the lost years with Gideon, for the father who hated him, for the suffering he caused Belle, and for the mother he'd barely known. He cried for his sins, and for the lengthy years when hate was his lone companion. He cried for what he'd done, and what he still had to do.
He was aware of Belle rocking him, heard the breathy nonsense she cooed into his ears, and he sobbed until there were no tears left, until he had poured out every drop of guilt, fear, and misery. When it was over, he felt weightless and free, and overwhelmed with the need to sleep.
"Rest now." Belle caressed his back as he shut his groggy eyes. "I'm here. I'll always be here. I choose you. I choose love."
It was a benediction, a healing balm, and as he slipped into sleep, her words washed over him and renewed his spirit. He'd heard Belle's confession of love countless times, but he never really believed it. Tonight, after learning where he came from, seeing the pattern of mistakes made generation after generation, he did. He didn't have to be the coward, or the villain, or the beast. His mother's choices didn't have to be his. He could choose something else for his family. Something different. Something better.
Tonight he could do what Belle never failed to do. He could choose love.
Myriad troubles remained, but he knew who he was. Husband. Father. Savior.
"Love you forever," he whispered.
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