This might just be the worst day of her life. She could have laughed at that thought, a somewhat hysterical feeling overtaking her. It shouldn't have been funny, shouldn't have amused anyone. Not when the sad fact was her life had been a series of bad days for as long as she could remember.
Not that she always trusted her memories. Not when there was so little to recall, aside from being locked in near darkness, the days and nights blurring together seamlessly and without end. She was sure that once she had not always existed inside that cold room. That once there had been something more to her life, than waiting endlessly for the door to open to freedom.
But she couldn't remember anything before her time in that room. Was it because of the drugs they had given her? Had they stripped her of her memories, or was she simply that damaged? Either way it had been horrible, existing for nothing, doing nothing, being nothing.
And then something HAD happened. A break in an otherwise excruciatingly dull routine. The door had opened, as it sometimes did. She had barely looked towards it, figuring it was another drugged meal delivered, food she would eat just enough of to keep on living. Even as she had been sure there was nothing worth living for.
But the man at the door hadn't had anything in his hands. Had actually let the door remain open, a bright light spilling into the room, nearly blinding her after so long in the darkness. She hadn't known what to feel, what to think, blinking rapidly, cringing more from the light than the man.
And then wonders of wonders, he had talked to her. How wonderful it had been to finally be acknowledged, to be something more than just a number. Instead of a patient-prisoner, he had treated her like she was a person, leading her out of the darkness. No one had tried to stop them, and she was following, amazed, almost dazed, barely noting her new surroundings, or what building they had walked out of.
The man didn't stay with her once they were out of the building. But his words remained, his voice ringing in her head, telling her to find a Mr. Gold. To find him and tell him what had been done to her, and by whom.
It had been exciting, terrifying. She had wandered the streets, fearing that at any moment she would be dragged back to that room. Dragged back and swallowed up by it's suffocating darkness. But somehow she had found him, had found Mr. Gold. And the look in his eyes. the tender, overcome expression he had worn as he had held her, had made her believe his sincere promise that he would protect her.
It had begun to look like the bad days were over with. She had actually let herself hope, trusting in Mr. Gold to make everything right for her now. It was why she went with him to the woods, why she followed him almost blind with her trust in him. And now, she was still in the woods, but something, everything, was wrong. And it wasn't just the fact that her reality had jumped abruptly from day to night, and that she was no longer walking, but laying on the ground in an enormous amount of pain.
The pain and the fact she couldn't remember how she had been hurt in the first place, or why it was now night instead of day, frightened her. Perhaps the scariest of all, was the look on Gold's face, the frantic, panicked fear, the way he was practically sobbing, crying out a name over and over again.
In that moment, she didn't feel safe, didn't feel protected. She hurt, and she was confused, but most of all she started to feel angry. Wondering if this, the worst day, would also be her last, hating the unfairness of that possibility, and not understanding why Mr. Gold didn't do anything more to HELP her.
"Belle! Belle!" Mr. Gold was saying, over and over again. "Belle!"
She found she could speak after all, the pain making her tone angry, her voice practically screaming. "Belle?! Whose Belle?!"
Gold dropped hold of her then, his hands lifting. She could see how badly they shook, just as she could see the blood on most of his fingers and palm. She knew instantly it had to be her blood, and if she had been scared before, she was even more so now.
And still Gold did nothing, just hunched over her, sobbing a word repeatedly. "No, no, no!" She stared up at him, convinced by his reaction that she really was dying. And wished she had never left her prison. Better to stay in that stifling, suffocating darkness, than to die after finally getting her first taste of freedom.
Either way she didn't want to die. Either way she wanted to fight, even if it meant she'd be returned to that room. That thought, that desire to fight, is what kept her conscious, kept her from slipping into a sleep she was sure would lead to her death.
As she thought these things, some kind of drama was being played out around her. She could hear another man talking, but she couldn't focus on his words. Or Gold's, thinking she was hallucinating when balls of fire appeared over his hands' open palms. Those balls of fire truly made her question her sanity, made her think maybe she truly belong locked away. Because how could this really be happening, how could those fireballs even exist?
Just as abruptly, they were extinguished, a bright light flooding the area. Gold seemed to remember her, throwing himself on her, rolling them both out of the way of a speeding car. It hurt to be moved, her entire arm, even her shoulder, crying out in protest. The pain almost made her lose focus, Belle almost not hearing the violent thuds, the squeal of tires grinding on the pavement, or the way the car slammed to a sudden halt.
Gold was crouched over her, glancing quickly down at her with that grief stricken expression, before looking around. She watched fascinated as his expression warped, the look in his eyes menacing, ugly. Never had she seen him like this, though that wasn't really saying much. Not when she had known him for less than a day. It was still terrifying, and she hoped he NEVER looked at her that way.
He started to rise off of her, actually jostling her arm. It made her cry out, pain lacing her features. The sound she had made, it drew Gold's attention to her, the menacing look fading somewhat for concern. But it was still there, battling for supremacy, Gold looking away from her, back at something in the darkness.
He seemed to nod to himself, making a decision. And when he started to step away from her, she panicked. Was he actually going to leave her? When she was in pain, bleeding, and scared? When she was most likely dying? Tears began falling down her cheeks, her chest heaving in panicked breaths. Pain twisted inside her, focused on her shoulder, her good arm moving. Grabbing at Gold's leg.
"Don't leave me!"
He glanced down at her, and again that conflict of emotions battling it out on his face. As though he was of two minds, and each had their own desire to attend to in this moment.
"This will only take a moment, Belle."
"Not Belle." She gritted out, not letting go of his leg. "I'm Marjorie."
That did nothing but make the angry, murderous look spark more determined on his face, Gold attempting to move away from her.
"Please!" She begged, no longer having the strength to hold on, to stop him from walking away. She heard his feet crunching on the gravel, Gold moving away from her. And something else broke inside her, the tears flowing faster, Marjorie beginning to sob loudly. Gut wrenching, heart breaking sounds, the woman weeping for everything lost, feeling as though there was more to what was going on than she could understand in the moment.
"Belle!" Instantly he was by her side, as though her tears had the power to hold him there. He was actually kneeling in the gravel, touching her. Cradling her as best he could, Marjorie trying to grip hold of his coat in an attempt to cling to him.
"Don't...please..." She weakly cried. "Promise me. Promise me you won't leave me. I...I don't want to die alone."
Gold looked startled then, his eyes growing wet with his own emotions, though he did not actually let the tears fall. "You're not going to die. I promise you."
He had also promised to protect her, and look at how well that had turned out!
"Please...please...!" She kept on repeating, clinging to him, to consciousness. "Call for help."
He actually hesitated! She didn't understand why. What reason could he possibly have for delaying such a thing?
"It hurts." She said, letting her voice, her expression fill with the true extent of her pain.
That moved him to a decision. Gold reaching into his coat's pocket. A small phone was pulled out, the man fumbling to open it. He kept on cradling her with one arm, the other lifted so he could speak into the phone he held.
"Yes, there's been a...there's been an accident at the boundary." Gold was saying. "Belle's been hurt."
"Not Belle." She tried to remind him, watching the way he reacted in impatience to whatever the person on the other end of the call was saying.
"I don't give a damn about the others." Another pause, Gold's annoyance mounting by the second. "Fine, there's at least three people down." He exhaled a deep breath, as though trying to control what he was feeling with that sigh. "Hurry. Hurry!" He urged, then tossed down the phone.
"They'll be here as soon as possible." Gold told her, a menacing look in his eyes. "As soon as possible, or so help them..."
Marjorie couldn't help but shiver at the threat in his voice, truly believing he would hurt whoever was responsible for help being delayed. Gold didn't notice, too lost in whatever dark thoughts drove him in the moment. He kept on looking away from her, looking at something in the dark. His impatience remained, Gold almost desperate to do something, but seeming loathe to break his promise to her.
The fact that he didn't, that he stayed with her when it was clear he was focused, determined to do something else? It scored a point with Marjorie. She didn't feel safe, didn't exactly feel protected, but the situation as wrong, as horrible as it was, felt right. As though she had accomplished something, something far greater than getting Gold to remain with her for what could be her final moments.
To distract herself from such thoughts, Marjorie spoke to Gold. Her voice was hoarse from too much sobbing, Gold actually having to bend his head closer to make out her words.
"Tell me..." She all but begged. "What...what happened...?"
Gold hesitated before speaking. "You were shot."
"Shot?" She echoed, brows drawing together. "By who? Why?!"
"It doesn't matter." She managed a snort in response, Gold ignoring that rude sound of hers, to continue speaking. "He won't trouble you anymore."
"He who?!" She demanded, feeling a chill go through her. Gold was looking menacing again, a promise, no a threat in his voice.
"He won't be bothering you, or anyone for that matter." His voice dropped lower, Marjorie straining to hear him. "If he's not already dead, he soon will be. I'll make sure of it."
Her whole body shivered, Marjorie turning fearful at the cold, angry vow Gold had just uttered. It frightened her, but a part her felt the need to talk him down. To keep Gold from committing cold blooded murder. She didn't understand that need, but she tightened her fingers' grip on his coat.
"Don't...Don't leave me." Was all she would say.
"I won't. I promised you, Belle."
"Not Belle." She insisted. "Marjorie."
He opened, then closed his mouth, Gold not acknowledging the words she had spoken. Marjorie sighed, relaxing just a little against him, though she refused to sleep.
"I'm getting blood all over your coat." She murmured.
"It doesn't matter." Gold said, and she almost laughed then. Was she getting lightheaded from the loss of blood? It must be so, if she could find anything humorous about the situation.
From far away, the faintest of sound intruded. It was sirens, help still far away but at least coming. Gold didn't relax. If anything he tensed up, casting another menacing look at something in the darkness. Marjorie now felt that it had to be at SOMEONE, perhaps the person responsible for shooting her.
She both wanted and didn't want to see the face of her attacker. But Gold held her in such a way, that her view was blocked by his body.
Sighing, Marjorie heard the sirens louder now. Within minutes the ambulance arrived, their lights brightening the area even more.
"It's about time!" Gold growled. No actually response was given, the ambulance grounding to a halt, the doors to the vehicles' back already swinging open. Medical personnel would jump out, their equipment at the ready.
"Over here." Gold's commanding tone, had three of the medics veer towards him and Marjorie, a stretcher being rolled to a stop mere inches from the pair. Immediately one of the men, and a woman would drop down to their knees, Gold reluctantly handing Marjorie over to their care.
"She's been shot." He said, and the woman reacted with a question.
"Who would want to shoot Belle?!"
"A dead man." Gold hissed, and all three of the medics shivered. They would then actually freeze up when Marjorie spoke, the woman pointedly insisting her name was not Belle.
"She crossed over." Gold said, his tone quiet now. Their looks horrified, the three medics all turned, finally noticing how close to the red line they truly were.
"No..." breathed out the woman.
"Never mind that!" Gold snapped. "Help her!"
They set out to do just that, cutting the coat off of Marjorie. Her sleeve and a portion of her coat's back stuck to her, sticky from her spilt blood. The medics were forced to peel the fabric free, their attempts gentle but inefficient when it came to sparing her pain. Gold grew even more incensed with every whimper Marjorie let out, the woman trying and failing to keep quiet as her arm was jostled.
Poking and prodding her, they ended up cutting some of her shirt as well. The wound itself would be examining, the location of it in her shoulder area. Gauze and bandages would be used in an attempt to pack the wound and staunch the blood.
"It didn't go all the way through." One of the male medics announced in hushed tones.
"The bullets still inside? Well, get it out then!" Snapped Gold.
"We will, once we get her to Storybrooke General." The woman assured him, her own tone frightened. It seemed Gold scared just about everyone who came in contact with him.
"We're going to move you." One of the men said. "This will hurt. I'm sorry."
Marjorie nodded, biting her lip to keep from letting out any more of the whimpers that so enraged Mr. Gold. She managed somehow to be quiet as they lifted her onto the stretcher, and it did indeed hurt, Marjorie desperately wanting to cry out.
"I'm riding with her." Gold announced, following her and the medics to one of the ambulances. No one tried to argue against this, Gold climbing into the ambulance alongside Marjorie. He'd go so far as to take up position besides her, holding onto her hand.
"See?" He smiled down at her. "I won't leave you. Just like I promised."
"Thank you." Marjorie whispered. In the background, she could hear other voices, though their words were lost, muffled by the sirens. There seemed to be an aura of tension from what she could tell, some kind of worried excitement that had nothing to do with her own injuries. They were clearly upset about something, but what that something was, she wouldn't be privy to anytime soon.
To Be Continued...
With thanks to Kendra Luehr, for her suggestion on what to do about a name for Belle's Storybrooke life. I picked Margie, making it Marjorie in length. If they give her an official Storybrooke name, I'll go back and change it to be that. Though as you'll hopefully soon see, in my story, it won't be too much of an issue, the Storybrooke name. Though I still want to acknowledge it. :)
-Michelle
Kendra Luehr, thank you so much! For your advice regarding the names, and the hospital, and your kind words regarding my story. :D Oh I would love it if they did something similar on the show. That's actually how I plot bunnied myself. The week leading up to episode 11, I was extremely nervous, wondering who if anyone would die. Then in the last twenty seconds of the episode, I guessed what would happen, her falling over and losing her true self. I wasn't expecting Hook to get hit by a car though! But when he did, I immediately saw three possible ways that could go, and then the more I thought about it, the more I thought I should try to write out my version of what I think should happen. And yes, it involves all three ways it could happen. XD I don't know if people want me to spoil those things for this story though...so I'll keep quiet for now. But I'm very happy by the response I've gotten for this story so far! :D
Lady Katherine 29, oh hi! I didn't know you were a once fan too! It seems I'm finding out more and more Lotor Allura fans are getting into the Once Upon A Time show. Awesome! And thank you. Glad to see you reading. Though I got a little confused, cause I really don't recall saying anything about a distraction? Unless you heard me talking about how Once fic ideas are distracting me from my Voltron and Valkyrie Profile stories? It sounds interesting, your crossover suggestion, but I won't be working in the Buffy verse. Though I really liked that show too! But Once already has such a huge cast of characters to work with...to the point I almost feel overwhelmed by the thought of working with them, even in just small roles...so I'll stick to my original idea, and avoid the crossovers. But who knows, maybe someday in the future, I will think up an idea that I can do a true crossover of. Thanks again!
Oh and yes, I want Hook to live in the canon too. I really hope they don't disappoint in that regard...
Belegwen, thank you! Glad you gave my attempt a try, and hope you'll like future chapters too! :D
