A/N: I hope you are all enjoying the story, and I would like to thank my reviewers, followers, and further ado, here is chapter two.

WARNING: There is some foul language in this chapter, nothing too grotesque.


George, nicked named "King George", was a loathsome supervisor who basked in the presence of hardworking employees. He cared little, if at all, for his workers, often times ignoring their requests for a safer working environment. Heartless and cruel, he ordered his workers to work themselves to the bone; often times, that was the case, for workers would work themselves to half to death in their desperation. King George showed no mercy and ruled with an iron fist.

He sat leisurely in his office as Rumplestiltskin passed through the factory doors. His staff clanked loudly against the cement floor as he passed the roaring machines surrounding him. Workers wore dull expressions as they watched him walk through sunken eyes. The factory reeked of soulless production as if the workers themselves had become machines; humanity was none existent. Rumplestiltskin checked in, sliding his card in a little pocket by the door and slipped passed King George's office window. Just as he made it to his machine he was stopped by a hand smashing down upon his shoulder and turning him around. He winced at the shock, but composed himself quickly.

"What do you think you are doing?" King George stood proudly, mercilessly backing Rumplestiltskin into submission.

"I-I-I," He stuttered in panic.

"You pathetic little slim…you're late!" An indefatigable lack of compassion glazed over King George's frigid eyes.

"Yes, well I-I-I," Rumplestiltskin jumped with nerves, as he quickly raked his brain for a believable excuse.

"You're trying to be a wise guy aren't you?" King George mocked, "You're trying to make a statement, aren't you?"

"No-" Rumplestiltskin attempted to replied, but was viciously interrupted.

"SHUT UP! As penalty for being late, I'll be taking Thursday's pay," Rumplestiltskin's heart sank, and he suddenly felt dizzy.

"Oh no-no-no! Please, I need that money. I need it to feed my son and-" Rumplestiltskin begged, lifting his chin in the process.

"There goes Friday's pay as well…keep back talking me and I might just fire you," Rumplestiltskin was at a lost for what to do, he needed the money for food and rent but if he spoke again King George would surely fired him. Rumplestiltskin had seen him do it so many times before and he felt queasy at the thought of being next.

King George watched him, waiting for Rumplestiltskin to speak, silently hoping he would so he could fire him on the spot. King George tempted him with steely-eyes, squinting them every few seconds. Rumplestiltskin sat defeated and a cynical laugh rang throughout the factory, warning all the others. King George retreated to his office without remorse.

Without much choice, Rumplestiltskin sighed miserably, as he started up his machine. There was nothing more he could do. He worked with freshly made thread straight out of the dying pool, which caused long-lasting stains on Rumplestiltskin's hands. All colors of thread passed through his machine, and he would quickly lift the thread, bundle it, tie it together, and set it on a lower machine by his leg. A conveyer belt would transfer the tied thread to packaging. Hours passed filled with lifting, bundling, tying, and setting. Lifting, bundling, tying, and setting. Lifting, bundling, tying, and setting. Over, and over, and over again. Rumplestiltskin's neck, shoulders, and back ached painfully after eight hours of the same motion. His fingers were blistered and covered completely in friction burners.

A noisy bell rang shocking all workers out of their workaholic trance. They greedily made their way into the mess haul to grab their food for their fifteen minute lunch break. Rumplestiltskin never brought food to work, in hopes of saving it. He was especially hungry today for he hadn't indulged in his usual breakfast. Rumplestiltskin pressed his hands into his gut willing the hunger to dissipate, but moaned then sighed with little success. He sat at one of the tables with his co-workers who had begun speaking of usual topics like politics, alcohol, sex, unfairness, and inequality.

Rumplestiltskin comfortably listened; he was never welcomed into conversation, and the simple thought reminded him of Belle. Unlike anyone he had ever met before, Belle was always asking him questions and most surprisingly she listened to him. Her big beautiful eyes would watch him intently, waiting for him to continue and he smiled at the thought of her enthusiasm. He missed her…

"Damn bitch never shuts up!" The crude language knocked Rumplestiltskin from his thoughts.

Jefferson, a slightly deranged single father, had begun rambling nonsense that caught Rumplestiltskin's attention. Jefferson worked in the packaging section where Regina Mills, nick named the Evil Queen, supervised.

"Now she's complaining I'm not doing my job fast enough. God damn, how fast is fast enough. My arms feel like there gonna fall off! My back feels like its being stabbed! My body feels like it's been attack by fifty frying pans! What am I supposed to do to please her?" Jefferson rambled on, and Rumplestiltskin couldn't help but pity him, completely understanding his situation.

The King and Queen had raised all quotas by the double in just two months. Workers were feeling the strain of long hours, and not having enough money to sustain themselves or their families. Everyone was disgruntled and it didn't seem like the situation was going to change anytime soon. Quickly inhabiting the seat next to Rumplestiltskin, Jefferson's mood changed abruptly to cheerful with a hint of playfulness.

"Oh hey hobblefoot, how's your day going?" Jefferson teased; Rumplestiltskin frowned at the nickname, "How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"Oh come on now, don't be like that…listen, I heard what happened this morning with you and the king and I just wanted to let you know that if you need some coins—I'm not in the best economic position, but I know I'm doing a lot better than you—I can spare a few for food," Rumplestiltskin's perked an eyebrow; Jefferson was not notorious for his modesty, even if what he was speaking was not the truth. Jefferson was just as poor, if not poorer, than Rumplestiltskin and the gesture of offering him money to survive was generous and kind.

Rumplestiltskin was puzzled, "Why?"

Jefferson paused for a moment, formulating his words before speaking, "Because I know what it's like to have a kid and be afraid I won't be able to feed her. Besides, you did the same for me a couple months ago. Don't you remember?" Jefferson looked at Rumplestiltskin who met his gaze in confusion.

"No, I…" Rumplestiltskin thought for a moment, but he couldn't recall such a time.

"Yeah. Regina took three days pay from me because Grace was sick and I came in late because I couldn't find her a babysitter and I was going to be left without enough to pay for the bills, food, and medicine. I was stuck, and I really thought it was the end… I even got on my knees and begged her," Rumplestiltskin suddenly recalled the memory and nodded, "you offered me enough coins to feed my little Grace, and I swear you were like a guardian angel that day," A grin appeared on Rumplestiltskin's lips, he never knew the small gesture had meant so much to the man.

"Maybe I should be asking you the same question?" Jefferson asked suddenly, "Why did you help? It's not like you're made out of money and you had Bae to support. Why would you help me?" Rumplestiltskin glanced at his torn hands folded across the table and replied, "Perhaps for the very same reasons you have for helping me."

The work bell sounded, interrupting their conversation. They both rose and made for their work stations, but before they left the mess haul Jefferson slipped two dollars into Rumplestiltskin's hand (the equivalent pay of two day's work) then disappeared in the masses of workers without giving Rumplestiltskin a chance to thank him properly. Perhaps he didn't need it, and for that Rumplestiltskin was eternally grateful.

Rumplestiltskin arrived at his dreadful machine and hobbled to his chair where he noticed a slip of paper. He opened the crumpled note which read, "I guess this evens out the odds, your friend. Jefferson. P.S Do you know why a raven is like a writing-desk?" Puzzlement etched across Rumplestiltskin's features and he looked toward the packaging area where Jefferson stood awaiting his response. Rumplestiltskin shrugged and mouthed the words, "I have the slightest idea," both smiled and returned to there work just as the King and Queen entered to "supervise." And suddenly it was back to lifting, bundling, tying, and setting. Lifting, bundling, tying, and setting.


Moraine had always been a friend to Bae, always willing to talk when he had a problem or when he simply needed someone to listen. They shared lunch everyday by the playground away from the other kids because they would jeer and tease them mercilessly. So today when Bae didn't join her outside by the playground, she was slightly hurt. She spotted him walking alongside the fence that enclosed the schoolyard playground and swiftly scurried to his side. He ignored her as she came up beside him.

"Have I done something wrong?" She questioned, confused by his behavior.

"Oh no, it's just…I'm worried," Moraine watched him with questioning eyes and he answered her unasked question,

"It's Belle, I'm worried."

"Belle?" Moraine could not recall anyone with that name.

"The woman that was lying in the alleyway. Her name is Belle, and she's been staying with us," Bae informed.

"Oh yes, I remember now, but why are you worried. Is something wrong?" Moraine peered at him.

"Well, she looked a little pale this morning. I didn't say anything to her but she seemed really weak when she sat down at the table for breakfast. I'm worried I think she may be sick," Bae sighed as his fears threatened to drown him.

"Well, I'm sure if she wasn't feeling all that well she would have said something, right?"

"I don't know. Belle won't admit sickness so easily, she's kinda stubborn," Moraine giggled at that.

"It sounds like she and I would get along. I'm sure she'll be alright, at least until you get home," Moraine placed a hand on Bae's back trying to sooth his anguish; he nodded and accepted her answer. Despite Moraine's reassuring words, a tense feeling settled in the pit of Bae's stomach and all he wished to do was run home and see that Belle was, indeed, alright.

"Come on, I have something I want to show you," Moraine pulled Bae by the hand until they were beneath a bare willow tree.

She dragged him behind the tree and knelt on her knees, pointing at a spot on the ground.
"Look," she commanded and he obeyed.

"It's a caterpillar!" Bae exclaimed, "How could it be out at this time of year? Isn't it too cold."

"That's what I thought," Moraine agreed.

The caterpillar was an unearthly shade of blue, green with specks of silver. Bae lifted the beautiful creature in his hands and allowed Moraine to slide a finger down its slimy back. She smiled at the touch, relishing the bizarre texture; Bae watched her through his eyelashes.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you," Bae looked at the ground before she could notice he had been staring. He listened to her as she continued, "I won't be coming to school tomorrow."

"What? Why?" Bae's head shot up as he tried to hide his disappointment.

"My aunt has come to stay with my family for the week and they brought along my baby cousin and tomorrow they were going to go see the town so they asked me to baby-sit."

"They asked you to miss school," Moraine blinked at him.

"Yes, well it's not like one day will hurt too much. Anyway, I could easily make up the work."

Bae shrugged, placed the caterpillar on the ground, shoved his hands in his pockets, and gently kicked a rock over,

"I guess your right."

"I'm sorry," she added timidly detecting his saddened mood.

"That's alright; you'll be back the next day won't you?" Bae asked hopefully and smiled widely when she nodded.

"Great," Bae beamed at her and she smiled, "Do you want to go play with Henry?"

"Oh, yes! Maybe he can read us a story from his book," they both darted off to meet with the boy on the abandon swing set. Moraine always enjoyed Henry's stories and Bae had always been secretly envious of Henry. Henry could make Moraine smile so widely that Bae that her face would split in two, and Bae did not like it one but.

A thought struck Bae mid-run, he thought of Belle and his father and their interaction, and all of a sudden a story came to mind. Today, Bae would tell Moraine, in front of Henry, of the beauty that fell in love with beast, and with that he would win her heart.


Back at the factory, Rumplestiltskin's mind had begun to wander. As his machine violently rushed thread into his hand, his thoughts would be pulled by the memory of Belle's smile, her sugary smell, the manner in which her arms float around as she walks the manner in which the words drip from her tongue as she talks, and her enchanting eyes. Futile fantasies bombarded him, and he lost himself in thoughts of her. He could picture her elegant hand sliding down his cheek, caressing his jaw line, trailing down his neck to finally rest above his heart. His mind saw her lips growing closer to his, and she was going to kiss his cheek when he shifted and crushed his lips to hers instead, earning a willing gasp-

"Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin! What the hell do you think you're doing? You're gonna kill yourself!" Rumplestiltskin was knocked from his trance by the King's bellowing cries, and a sharp pain radiating up his arm.

King George hit the emergency stop button on Rumplestiltskin's machine, immediately killing the power.

"Rumplestiltskin, your hand," King George pointed in horror, calling attention to Rumplestiltskin's hand.

Rumplestiltskin realized his hand had been caught in the tracks of the machine, splitting the skin open, allowing blood to spurt wildly over the thread. He couldn't feel the pain of the injury, which he thought was bizarre but as seconds passed he could feel a burning sting which slowly converted into unbearable pain. The needle in which the thread rested on had completely pierced through his hand. King George grabbed his forearm and yanked Rumplestiltskin until his hand was totally removed from the needle. It all happened so quickly that Rumplestiltskin didn't have time to protest.

Suddenly, the wave of pain hit him, and he clasped his hand, bringing it to his chest. In the back of Rumplestiltskin's mind he knew that if he didn't meet his quote that he was going to be fired, so he tried to play off the wound as if it wasn't so bad, biting his lip to keep from screaming in pain. Rumplestiltskin didn't convince anyone.

"Come on, get up you stupid fool," King George barked his orders, but Rumplestiltskin was too in shock to obey.

King George brutally kicked Rumplestiltskin's crippled knee, lightly smirking when Rumplestiltskin fell off his chair and hit the cement floor, clutching his knee, ignoring the pain in his hand.

"That'll teach you to listen to me when I give you orders. Now, get up I said," Rumplestiltskin grabbed his staff and attempted to stand, but the pain in his knee wouldn't allow it.

King George placed a hand under Rumplestiltskin's arm and forcefully lifted him causing a whimper to escape his lips.

King George looked surprised, "Oh, what was that…whimpering like a little baby," he laughed and shoved Rumplestiltskin forward.

"To my office. Now!" King George shouted and Rumplestiltskin was forced to obey.

Sharp jolts of pain shot through Rumplestiltskin as he walked forward forced by King George's unyielding grasp. His eyes stung with unshed tears and he wanted to kill the man for his cruelty, but he knew he would never have the strength or the courage. Once in King George's office, Rumplestiltskin was allowed to sit. His leg screamed bloody murder, overriding the pain in his hand. Blood drops spilled onto the floor as King George took his seat behind the desk.

"Well, you sure are having a banner day aren't you Rumplestiltskin," Rumplestiltskin's gaze was glued to the ground; a pained expression was plastered upon his tanned face.

"I-I'm sorry, it all happened so quickly and I did not even-" the words died in his mouth when he looked upon to find King George's eyes stalking him like prey.

"Wrap up you hand with this," King George tossed him a scratchy stained rag and a safety pin, "and get back to work. I don't want anymore incidents. Is that understood?"

Rumplestiltskin nodded causing King George to squawk with silent rage, "What was that?"

"Yes," Rumplestiltskin whispered.

"Yes, WHAT?" King George persisted.

"Yes, sir." Rumplestiltskin's voice was barely audible, but somehow it was enough.

"Good, I'm glad you've learned some manners. Now get out," King George shooed him away with his hand as if he were a dog and returned to reading a comic lying open on his desk.

Rumplestiltskin limped away with the dirty rag and safety pin in hand. He wrapped his injury as he painfully hobbled back to his machine. When he arrived he noticed it had been cleaned and the blood-covered thread had been removed. He powered up the machine and began to work once again. Despite his angry wounds, he met his quota by the end of his fourteen hour shift.

The windows in the factory allowed Rumplestiltskin to discern that it was twilight when he turned off his machine. He made to stand up, but his leg wouldn't move. He sat, resting in his chair for a moment, willing the muscles to heed to his command. Forcing his body to move, Rumplestiltskin stood with great agony. Every step was an obstacle and he clung to his staff with both hands, despite the injuries, to keep himself from falling. The weight he placed on his staff caused the injury on his hand to reopen, soaking the already filthy rag with his blood.

Masses upon masses of workers fled the factory as if it were on fire when their shifts were finally over; they were all grateful to be released, and no one paid Rumplestiltskin any attention. They met his gaze, sneered, and quickly looked the other way. Slowly Rumplestiltskin exited the factory, unaided, leaving behind his hell. He limped at a terribly slow pace, sighing with gratifying relief. At last, he would get to see Bae and his beautiful Belle.


Rumplestiltskin approached the school, leaning half his body weight on his staff. Bae rose from his seated position in a rush, quickly running to his father's side with Moraine behind him.

"Papa, papa! I was so worried I thought something had happened to you. It's nighttime what took you so long you're three hours late," Bae helped his father by allowing him to support his weight on his shoulders.

"Aye that it is, I'm sorry son. I had a bit of an accident and it took me a little longer to get here, that's all," Rumplestiltskin hoped Bae wouldn't ask anymore questions.

"C'mon, let's go it's getting late. Belle's probably terrified we haven't returned yet," Rumplestiltskin smiled at the thought of her comforting embrace.

"Belle? Terrified? Ha!" Bae gave a humorless laugh giving Rumplestiltskin a start, "Ha-ha, well perhaps terrified is not the proper term for the brave beauty. How about…worried sick?"

"That's a little bit better," Bae replied helping his father walk when Moraine caught sight of Rumplestiltskin's hand.

"Rumple, what happened to your hand…it's bleeding?" Moraine's question stopped Bae dead in his tracks.

Bae slid out from underneath Rumplestiltskin to examine his injured hand and Rumplestiltskin tried to explain to him before he could panic, but it was already too late.

"Papa! What happened? Who did this? Did someone attack you?" Bae shot him a wild amount of questions, interrogating him, and Rumplestiltskin waited for his fury to calm before he answered, "I just had a little accident at work that's all, I promise. I'm alright son; there is no need to worry," Rumplestiltskin tried to comfort his son, but Bae knew something had happened and he was determined to know.

"But look at all the blood," Bae insisted with heart broken eyes.

"It's nothing. It's just a scratch. It doesn't even hurt," Rumplestiltskin lied; his hand felt like it was being soaked in acid.

Though Bae knew Rumplestiltskin was hiding something, he couldn't quite place what that something was, so he let the subject drop, accepting his father's response, if only for the time being. His father needed to rest rather than argue. With a frown, Bae returned to his place underneath Rumplestiltskin's arm. Moraine joined him on the opposite side, taking the staff in her hands so Rumplestiltskin could use them as crutches. He smiled with tears in his eyes at their kindness as they began their journey home one step at a time.


After two hours, they had finally arrived home, and it was incredibly late. Rather than dropping Moraine off at her home first, she helped Rumplestiltskin and Bae home first instead. Handing Rumplestiltskin his staff, she ran to her door. They watched as she entered her home and closed the door behind her whispering a, "Get well soon," to Rumplestiltskin and, "Goodnight" to Bae. Moraine's family had already fallen asleep as had most of the residents in the building.

Rumplestiltskin would only have a few hours of sleep before he would have to return to the factory, and Bae would be exhausted for school tomorrow. Bae turned the knob and quietly opened the door, for he didn't wish to wake Belle if she had fallen asleep. Their house was flooded with darkness and impeccable silence, which Bae thought was strange. Had Belle left?

Bae slid out from underneath his father's arm, waiting until he held his balance, and walked to the kitchen, guided by the moonlight shining in from the window. He lit lanterns instead of the lights to save on the electricity bill, and discovered Belle was lying on the couch. Rumplestiltskin could see her sleeping in the dim light, and sighed at the lack of justice his mind had on her beauty. Bae returned to his father's side to help him walk to the chair in the kitchen, but on their way there, Belle groaned. They stopped to check to see if they had woken her and that's when Rumplestiltskin noticed that her hair was plastered to her face, drenched in sweat. Her face was beet red, and her lips were cracked with dryness.

"Bae," He looked up at his father and followed his gaze to Belle.

When Bae noticed her condition he turned back to his father with terror-filled eyes, begging his father for orders. Rumplestiltskin, in a panic, rushed to Belle's side, cursing when pain shot up his leg.

"Bring the chair and place it by her so I can see what's wrong." Bae did as instructed, and aided his father into the chair.

Rumplestiltskin's muscles tensed in nervousness when he placed his hand on her forehead and felt her blistering heat.

"Quick Bae, go in the kitchen, get ice, and wrap it in cloth...we need to cool her," Bae ran.

He brought the ice wrapped in a dish rag, and handed it to his father who quickly took the ice and placed it on Belle feverish forehead.

"What's wrong with her papa?" Bae asked, terrified of the answer.

"She has a fever," Rumplestiltskin was focused and did not give much detail, "Was she like this in the morning when you left for school?"

"No," Bae answered timidly, and added, "she looked a little pale and she seemed weak, but she didn't say anything… I should have stayed. I should have come home early. I knew something was wrong. I just knew it!" Bae grew angry with himself.

Bae watched, willing himself to calm down, as his father stroked her cheek, brushing the mangy hair away from her face.

"Is she going to be okay?" Bae asked with tears in his eyes, and Rumplestiltskin paused not knowing how to answer.

He could lie and say yes, but he knew if that was not the case Bae would never forgive him. Rumplestiltskin didn't answer and Bae grew impatience, "Papa."

"I don't know son…at this point I just don't know yet," Rumplestiltskin answered honestly, figuring it was the best.

"Is she…dying?" Rumplestiltskin stiffened at Bae's question, but quickly replied, "Not if I can help it…now Bae, I need you to go to the market, take this money," Rumplestiltskin handed Bae the two dollars Jefferson had gave him earlier, "and buy whatever medicine you can afford for the flu."

Bae nodded, then flew through the house and out the door. Belle moaned, then whimpered, and Rumplestiltskin whispered in her ear, "It's alright Belle. I'm here now," he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Oh my darling Belle…beautiful Belle…have you been like this all day and no one knew?" Rumplestiltskin held her hand in his as tears bubbled up on his bottle eyelids, "Forgive me…forgive me for leaving you." Tears streaked down Rumplestiltskin's face as guilt settled in.

Belle began to shiver then, and Rumplestiltskin knew it was due to the chills that come with fever. He only hoped Bae would return soon and safely.


Bae's reached the market doors, at lightening speed, only to discover it was closed. Of course it was closed, it was passed business hours. Bae was at a lost for what to do; he couldn't return empty handed so he stood for a moment to think. Think, think, think.

In the shadows lurked Gaston with an evil grin and a devilish intention. He had spotted Bae running like death was chasing him, and wondered what the boy could be up to so late at night. Whiling following Bae, Gaston had caught a glimpse of the two dollars he clutched in his small fist. He observed as Bae stopped in front of the market and his shoulders fell as he noticed it was closed. Bae stood thinking, raking his brain for other options, but he couldn't think of anything when suddenly a tall man approached him and stepped under the street lamp.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here," Gaston taunted the poor boy, but Bae held his ground, shoving the two dollars in his pocket.

"What do you got there, kid?" Gaston questioned, already knowing the answer; he was simply playing with Bae.

"Nothing," Bae answered through gritted teeth, and tried to step past him, but Gaston blocked his way.

Bae was trapped against the market door and Gaston's massive figure; he had no way to escape so he tightened his grip around his two dollars and vowed to protect it with his life. Belle was sick, and she needed him; he would not disappoint her.

"Give it here, kid," Gaston inched closer, and Bae stepped back, running into the door.

"Leave me alone!" Bae shouted and Gaston let out a belly full of laughter, continuing to inch closer and closer.

"I said give-it-here," Gaston was mere centimeters away, and Bae's knees trembled but he refused to give in.

Just as Gaston reached with his arm, Bae lunged forward then kicked his foot as hard as he could in between Gaston legs. He howled in pain and clutched at his parts as Bae made a run for it, but before he could get away Gaston swung around and grabbed Bae by the back of the neck.

"You scrawny little shit! How dare you?" Gaston slammed Bae into the market door, shattering the glass, cutting Bae's forehead.

An alarm rang and Gaston jumped. The store alarmed had been set off and Bae thanked the gods the store owner had installed one because Gaston fled the scene yelling all the while, "I'll kill you! I swear I will. One of these days, kid." Gaston disappeared in the darkness and Bae was left lying in the shattered glass.

He knew the police would arrive soon enough, and if he was caught they would probably blame him for breaking and entering. Deciding quickly, he stood, placing a hand on his forehead to stop the bleeding, and looked for Belle's medicine. He found the cheapest flu medicine, and left the money on the counter, then dashed out the door. Paying little attention to the blood trickling down his face he ran through the alleyway, up the stairs, and into the house. Rumplestiltskin stood in shock at the sight of his son.

"Bae! What happened?" Despite his aching leg, Rumplestiltskin limped to Bae's side to examine him.

"It's nothing. Here, I have the medicine," Bae handed him the bottle, and Rumplestiltskin ignored it too concerned for the gash on Bae's forehead.

"Papa, please! It's nothing, Belle needs her medicine." Rumplestiltskin looked at him for a moment contemplating then responded with, "Don't think I don't expect an explanation," Bae nodded and Rumplestiltskin turned to Belle.

"Grab me a spoon," Rumplestiltskin instructed Bae as he unscrewed the cap on the bottle.

Bae retrieved the spoon and handed it to his father. Rumplestiltskin poured the crimson liquid on the spoon and told Bae, "We need to stir her long enough so she can drink it. Can you do it?" Bae nodded, "Good, be gentle." Bae lightly shook Belle's shoulder causing her to moan, which made him stop immediately.

"Do it again, but just a little harder," Rumplestiltskin told him.

Bae shook her once more, and suddenly her eyelids fluttered open. Rumplestiltskin saw her blue eyes and noticed how they were glazed over with exhaustion and fever.

"Belle…Belle drink this it will make you feel better," Belle noticed the color of the bottle and her thoughts immediately shot back to her father.

"No!" She moaned loudly, trying to swat the spoon away causing the liquid to spill onto Rumplestiltskin's leg, "No, please. Papa, why? Why are you doing this to me?" Rumplestiltskin froze at her words, and Bae listened intently.

"Please papa! Don't, I want to stay. Please," Her voice was hoarse with dryness as she muttered her protests.

"What is she saying papa? I don't understand," Bae turned to his father, but Rumplestiltskin couldn't comprehend either and decided, "It's the fever; she's delusional from the fever."

"How do we get her to drink it?" Bae asked, and Rumplestiltskin couldn't think.

"Papa?" Bae thought of an idea, "I know- she has to drink the medicine one way or another if she's going to get better, so why don't we just plug her nose and make her drink it…" Bae watched Belle thrash helplessly in both agony from the fever and desperation to push the medicine away.

Weighing his options Bae decided for his father, "I'll plug her nose and you drop it in."

Rumplestiltskin, shocked by his son's words, let his jaw hang just a bit, Bae noticed and defended his idea, "Papa, we have no choice."

Rumplestiltskin didn't wish to force Belle even if she was dying from sickness; Rumplestiltskin shuddered at the thought of her death.

"I-I-I can't," Rumplestiltskin shook his head from left to right, wanting to back away.

"No papa we must," Bae insisted.

"Bae, I can't…" Rumplestiltskin looked at his son intensely, and then at Belle's miserable face.

"What other choice do we have?" Bae wanted to save Belle more than anything, and he couldn't think of another way to get her to drink the medicine.

She looked tormented and Rumplestiltskin wanted nothing more than to save her, but he couldn't force feed her…it was just too cruel and he wouldn't do it.

"Belle," Rumplestiltskin spoke in a calm, soothing tone, and Belle gradually stopped thrashing long enough for her to listen, "Belle, I know that you do not wish to drink this, but I promise you its for your own good," Belle suddenly moaned again at his words, and he knew he had said something wrong, so he tried again, "Belle…Belle listen to me," Belle looked at him dazed, "do you trust me?"

He hoped more than anything she did. Belle looked at him for a moment as if she were looking at a different person.

"Belle?" Rumplestiltskin started again, "Do you trust me?"

She gazed at him as if at a lost for words, but whispered, "Rumple…I'm scared."

At her words Rumplestiltskin moved closer to her, sitting on the edge of the chair and in his calm tone began, "No-no Belle there is no reason to be afraid. I'm here and I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise…now, do you trust me?" Rumplestiltskin thought she was going to refuse him, push him away and never let him return, but instead she nodded, keeping her gaze connected with his.

"This will help you get better," he stated and poured another tablespoon of the crimson liquid, slowly bring it to her lips.

He gently poured the liquid in her mouth as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. He wiped her tears away, kissing her forehead before pouring one more spoonful and placing it to her lips. She scrunched her face at the taste, but quickly swallowed the second spoonful and Rumplestiltskin stroked her clammy forehead whispering, "See dearie, that wasn't so bad. Rest sweetheart, everything will be alright."

Belle began to doze off and Rumplestiltskin leaned away to retrieve the ice that had fallen in all the commotion, but stopped when Belle's eyes shot open and begged him, "No, please don't leave me. Stay," her words made his heart sing; she wanted him to stay.

He softly comforted her worries, "I'm not leaving. I was just getting the ice for your head. Rest my darling Belle you'll feel better tomorrow," Rumplestiltskin took her hand in his and placed the ice on her forehead.

He gently ran his fingers across her hand, willing her to fall asleep. Only a few minutes had passed before Belle was engulfed by peaceful slumber and both Rumplestiltskin and Bae visibly relaxed.

"How did you know to talk to her like that?" Bae asked after a few moments, ashamed for having thought to force her to drink the liquid.

Rumplestiltskin met his gaze and waved at him to sit by the chair; he did so obediently.

"I have learned that sometimes it is best to be calm and gentle then violent and forceful," Rumplestiltskin watched as Bae bowed his head ashamed, "What's the matter?"

"I…I was going to force her…I'm a bad person…" Rumplestiltskin understood now that Bae felt terrible for his thoughts.

"No Bae, you are not a bad person. You simply panicked, and when we have someone we care about and they are in danger of losing their life and we don't know what to do and they refuse our desperate attempts to help them, sometimes we make wrong choices. You made a mistake. You understand now what you did though, right?" Bae nodded, tears streaming freely down his mortified face, "Alright then, take it as a learning experience and if this ever happens again in the future, which I hope it doesn't, at least you'll know what to do then."

"I'm sorry," Bae whispered timidly.

"I know son," Rumplestiltskin petted his son's hair without releasing his grip on Belle's hand; it was then he remembered Bae's cut, "Now, tell me what happened to your head?"

Bae wiped away his tears and began his tale, "I ran to the market, but it was closed," Rumplestiltskin had forgotten that they had gotten home rather late, "Ah yes I should have known."

Bae continued, "I stopped to think of other markets that could be open, but before I could think of any Gaston showed up out of no where," Rumplestiltskin tensed with anger as Bae continued, "He wouldn't let me pass and he wanted to see what I was holding but I didn't want him to see the two dollars so I put the money in my pocket. He got so close so I hit him and ran, but he caught me from behind the neck and threw me into the market door. Papa…" Bae saw a death glare flash across Rumplestiltskin face before he met his son's gaze, "I broke the door," Bae stated sheepishly, and Rumplestiltskin shook his head.

"No that oaf did. You did nothing wrong," Bae continued at his statement.

"Well, the store was closed and Belle needed the medicine so I took the cheapest medicine I could find and I left the money on the counter. Do I do wrong?" Bae looked at his father hopeful, and Rumplestiltskin gave him a small smile and answered, "No, just as long as you left the money on the counter. You did alright."

"The alarm went off too; that's what scared Gaston away," Bae watched for his father's reaction, there was none.
"It's no matter now son. Go get the little box in the bathroom and I'll clean that cut for you," Bae stood and made for the bathroom, but paused and whispered, "Maybe I should clean your cuts too," pointing out Rumplestiltskin's many injuries.

Rumplestiltskin's head still had the cloth that Belle had placed on there the night before when he ran head first into the ledge on the roof, and his hand was covered in dried blood, dirt, and a flimsy stained rag. Rumplestiltskin nodded and Bae retrieved the little box, handing Rumplestiltskin the supplies he needed to clean their wounds.

Once Bae's wound was cleaned and covered, Rumplestiltskin focused on his own. His fingers were numb and he could barely move them. The area in which the needle passed through had become purple with bruising. Fearing infection, Rumplestiltskin leaned over and retrieved the rubbing alcohol from the little box that Bae had set on the floor. Rumplestiltskin limped to the bathroom, closed the door, poured the alcohol on his wound, and bit his inner cheek until it bled to keep from shrieking.

Once he was sure his wound was disinfected he wrapped it with clean cloth, and turned his attention to his head wound. The gash on his head had started heal nicely, thanks to Belle's excellent nursing. He took off the bandage, and decided to leave it uncovered. When his wounds had finally been attended, he returned to Belle's side, holding her cold pale hand in his, trying to warm it with his heat. She didn't appear to be in pain, and Rumplestiltskin thanked whatever gods existed for that simple fact.

His eyes drooped, and his head slowly began to fall as exhaustion began to take over. The day had proven to be a challenge, and Rumplestiltskin dreaded the hour in which he would have to return to his work beaten, bloody, and utterly destroyed.

After Bae had left for school earlier that morning, Belle's body had collapsed into a fit of sickness. Her body was wracked with fever and weakness, and she rested on the couch willing the chills to go away. She hadn't eaten, and when she tried to stand she simply couldn't, so she lay sleeping on the couch waiting for Rumplestiltskin and Bae to arrive. She waited all afternoon falling in and out of restless sleep.

Every time she awoke it seemed her condition had worsened, and she would groan and moan wishing they would come home. Once the fever had settled in, her dreams had become hyperactive and strange. All of them involved Rumplestiltskin and Bae, just in different settings and times. Belle's body shivered as sweat drops collected on her already damp forehead as she closed her eyes once again when she noticed Rumplestiltskin and Bae hadn't come home yet. Behind closed eyelids she saw…

An aerial hoop act; Rumplestiltskin and Belle, flew throughout the heavens above. Rumplestiltskin leg was healed in her dream. The act was almost animalistic; ecstasy enveloping both their bodies. She danced through the air akin to a cherub while his soaring was reminiscent to that of an almighty eagle. Glorious envy saturated the walls of the showroom, emitted from those below, yearning for a small taste of their nebulous love.

She gracefully glided, tenderly twisting her arms and gripping the hoop viciously while he cradled her petite frame from behind. He nestled his head in the crook of her neck, trembling from the intensity of the powerful energy that surmounted him in her proximity; pleasantly comfortable with the deranged delightfulness of flying with her. She exhaled slowly, gradually releasing one hand from the hoop to swathe it behind his collar.

He could sense her rapidly setting fire to every part of him she touched with her small and delicate hand. Though painful, he enjoyed the erotic pleasure of having her sharp nails digging into his warm, soft, flesh; almost whimpering when she removed her hand to elevate her glittering body to the hoop once again. She threw her head back as he reached up with his hand to caress her silky hair; his mind indulging in the mesmerizing scene of her body bending backward to meet with his expectant hand. They were a staggering fifty feet above ground, both careless of the lives they lived down below.

Emotions fluttered through them; the movement of their bodies, the sugary melody playing syrupy notes, rousing a drowsy tenderness enrapturing them both in immense passion. Sweat drops amalgamated, searing gasps of breathless air escaping their tattered lungs collided, and eyes interlaced as skin entangled itself into an inescapable knot. They were in love, though he was cowardly and she was brave. Together they built a happy medium where they both settled comfortably, spectators gazed as their love unfolded with every touch. He sat within the hoop; her legs sheathed around his mid section; the heels of her feet resting at the small of his back. She brought her hand to his face to lay it upon his cheek watching as his eyes trailed from her eyes, down her neck, past her shoulder to reside at her wrist.

Her hand went limp, falling upon his chest, landing directly over his heart. He grabbed it memorizing her hand; the feel of it in his rough calloused one. Tracing the veins with his fingertips, and completely adoring the beauty of her as her chestnut curls rose and fell to the rhythm of her breathing. He was tempted to touch one curl, the one closest to his hand, but he would never take the liberty of doing so without asking for her permission. Instead, he sighed and held her hand, content for the little contact. He leaned toward her smoothly falling into their next pose. Both sculpted their bodies into rigid forms, smiling when the audience responded with an audible applause. He admired her; she was young, with pale skin, full red lips; chestnut curls falling pass her shoulders. His humble personality contrasted with her pale and well built body. Neither paid much attention to the other's silhouette, focusing more on the strength they possessed rather than physical appearance. Lacking in superficial love they survived the obstacles of life.

The crowd gasped as he held her ankle and dropped her body in the air. Surprisingly, she trusted him with such a task. His chest puffed out, a tinge of pride invading him at knowing he held her unattainable trust. Grinning madly he lifted her effortlessly in his arms; the fiery embrace scorching her already warm skin; she sighed comforted by the unbearable heat. Sweat collected on his forehead, his face already crimson red from the extraordinary benevolence presented by the inhuman movements. Drawing his hands across her torso, she threw her head back snuggling in the crook of his neck.

She turned, tilting her head slightly, her lips rested near his collar, the microscope hairs on his jaw line curling, offended by her hot breath. He lifted her; his arms steadied and balance as her legs stood proudly in the air; their faces only inches apart, growing closer and he lowered her to him. A sudden memory struck him as he balanced her in mid air. Smiling, he remembered the fond memory of the first time she visited his apartment; she'd been evicted from hers on short notice and he had kindly offered her a place to stay. He closed his eyes briefly remembering the bravura experience.

"Scared of heights?" He asked her as he gestured for her to follow him outside onto the balcony forty three stories in the air, she didn't need to answer him.

They both stood on his balcony overlooking a beautiful lake; her jaw dropped just a little but she composed herself quickly.

"It's so beautiful," she gasped.

The memory faded, and his mind became aware of his present surroundings. He held her now; looking deeply into her eyes, half-hoping to drown in the vast magnificence of them. Unwavering, he continued to balance her; her legs slicing through air as her eyes silently examined his expression. His mind drifted to the memory once again.

He watched her; his gaze fiery, growing timidly passionate. Within it was a smoldering patience, a tenderness that was sweetly torturous, almost noxious. He searched her eyes for any rejection, any doubt, there was none. Her eyes wore a silent plea while his wore urgency, almost frantic with his timorous desire. After a few intoxicating moments of indulging in each others company, they settled with watching the sunset.

The memory slipped from his mind as their act rose to the climax. Tension intensifying, they prepared themselves for their most treacherous stunt. His body elated with excitement; his mind wandering with endless memories, misjudged their final stunt. She slipped from his sweaty hand, her fingertips inhabiting an icy tinge as she felt chilled air instead of his warm hands. His eyes went wide, his breath caught, his heart stopped mid-beat, as he reached for her. Fingertips grazed each other as she fell helplessly toward the ground. Their hands failed at connecting and she clawed at the air trying desperately to save herself from plummeting toward Earth. The crowd screamed in horror, women covered their eyes, blinding themselves from the awful scene that was soon to unfold.

…Suddenly Belle awoke to a hand shaking her shoulder. She met Rumplestiltskin's face, and noticed he held a red bottle. No. No! Her mind jumped to the memory of her father and she wanted to run away. The knights held her fast as she tried to escape, but then she heard Rumplestiltskin's voice, his sweet and soothing voice. He was saving her from the knights in shining armor. Rumplestiltskin asked her if she trusted him, and she thought back on her dream and how the man had let the woman fall, but she trusted Rumplestiltskin with her life, similar to the woman in her dream.

But Rumplestiltskin wouldn't let her fall; he was here now comforting her mind and delusions, saving her from the malevolence of her father and his cruel yet obeying knights. She nodded at his question, despite her dreams. Rumplestiltskin brought the crimson liquid to her lips, and she allowed him to pour it into her mouth. Tears streamed down the corners of her eyes as she expected the burning to return to her mouth, her lips, her throat, but it never came; she expected to be engulfed by fog then taken to another land, but she stayed with her eyes watching Rumplestiltskin the entire time. He smiled at her and whispered sweet and endearing words. Belle was in grateful disbelief.

Rumplestiltskin advised her to rest but she didn't want to rest she wanted to kiss him, hug him, and show him how much she lov- liked him in that moment. Her exhaustion defeated her before she could thank him, but before she was engulfed by slumber she begged him to stay with her. He would keep the bad dreams away. Rumplestiltskin stayed, holding her hand as her dreams came to life once again…

He threw his leg out to give her something to grasp. Digging her fingers into his fleshy tissue, she had caught herself. Wrapping her legs around his, she climbed onto him slipping into his arms and his warm embrace. They held each other for a long moment, neither speaking a word, only savoring the softness of the other and respecting the possibilities of a minor incident.

He tried to apologize, but she lifted a finger to his lips silencing him at once. Quickly rearranging themselves on the hoop, they continued their performance mindful of the last stunt they needed to recreate. His mind focused, growing alert; her body shaky, itchy with adrenaline managed to work though the leading stunts arriving once more at their final spectacular act. Aware of every breath, he threw her into the air recreating their previous attempt. She held her breath half-expecting to fall when she was suddenly encased by his soft yet firm arms. Brilliantly concluding their performance, recovering marvelously from their previous mishap, the subtle illumination of the spotlight dimmed. The audience applauded—fascinated—eternally stained with the day they flew.


With two hours of sleep, Rumplestiltskin awoke on time for work. He had slept in the chair holding Belle's hand unwilling to leave her side. Rumplestiltskin attempted to stand, but his body was physically incapable of doing so. He tried over and over to rise, but his legs simply wouldn't listen; he was too exhaustion, and finally after multiple attempts he gave up, dropping his head to rest on Belle's hand. Even if the world ended, he wouldn't have moved in that moment. Rumplestiltskin was tired…work could wait.

Hours later Bae awoke to discover his father had stayed home. Bae had never known of a day that Rumplestiltskin had missed work. At first he was stunned, but smiled thankful his father had the senses to realize when he just couldn't go on. Rumplestiltskin needed time to recover, and Bae was glad Belle and he would be recovering together. Bae prepared himself for school, tiptoeing not wishing to wake either of them. Belle, Bae noticed, had better color and looked like she was almost smiling. Bae grinned at the sight of his father resting his head on Belle's hand as they both slept. Bae, despite his disappointment for Moraine's absence, knew that today would be a better day. He left for school, comfortable knowing Belle was in good hands.

A/N: Disaster strikes! Gosh, when it rains it pours. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, despite the tragedy and the confusing dreams/delusions. Thank you to my reviewers. I really appreciate your kind words.