A/N: Sorry again about the wait. This story is starting to be a lot different than I first imagined. Enjoy!

Ch. 3

As she ran, Belle tried opening her mouth to scream, but nothing came out—nothing but the panting of her breath and a shriek of terror she didn't recognize as her own. The ogre followed her with heavy hurricane legs, roaring and pushing entire trees out of his way. Belle had never seen an ogre in real life, only in the pictures her father's guards drew when the horde of beasts were closing in on their land. But in the flesh, they were far worse than she imagined.

Belle jumped over logs and whipped around trees, zigzagging through the forest to evade the ogre. The stench of rotting meat followed the beast as it neared her. She could feel its hot breath practically on her neck, pulling her in like a vortex to hell. There was a gust of wind on Belle's left and suddenly she was flying through the air, flicked to side like a bug. She screamed and sailed into a tree. A white-hot pain shot through her abdomen, dwarfing the pain in her bones as she impacted the large pine.

Belle fell to the earth, gasping for breath, and clutched her stomach. The ogre ran off in the direction he had been following her. She wasn't an evening snack as she had feared, but simply an obstruction on his path toward more devastation. Belle could feel a warm, sticky liquid oozing from her abdomen. She was afraid to look down at the wound, but raised her fingertips to her face. They were covered in blood.

She must have landed on a branch when she hit the tree. She could feel the wound all the way out her back, just missing her spin but having punctured an organ or two. Fear and panic welled inside Belle. She was alone in the woods, maybe miles from town, and would no doubt bleed to death within the hour. She loud out a cry, but it became more of a whimper.

"Help," Belle whispered. But who could hear her in such an isolated area? "Please help."

Belle was shaking now, trembling with fright. She never thought she would die like this, alone and cold and so far away from home. She laid her head against the wet ground, her tears mixing with the rain. She shouldn't have come after Lissy. She shouldn't have come to Beansville and given a fake name and allowed herself to be taken in by strangers. She shouldn't have left . . .

Rumpelstiltskin.

Belle squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed. She wanted him more than anything, to be back at his castle and fight for him. She would apologize, let him be whatever he wanted to be—man or monster, she could love both—and they would live happily ever after, this beauty and her beast.

"Please . . ."

Please what? Gods, please spare her? Belle didn't know. She was getting colder and she could feel the blood pooling around her now, the thick sent of iron and silvery wetness in the air. This was how she was going to die. This was what her life had been leading up to.

She just wished it hadn't come so soon.

Belle's eyelids drooped. She felt dizzy, sleepy, the earth spinning beneath her wildly. As she blinked lazily, she could see a light shining through the trees, a speck of illumination coming towards her. Death, perhaps. But she was so tired, so cold . . .

The light grew bigger, and as much as Belle wanted to keep her eyes open to see the angel that had come for her, she slipped into quiet darkness. No one, not even the Dark Lord, himself, could find her there.

0000000

Jack had followed the sound of the ogre's path as soon as he heard the roar from the woods. The whole town had heard it, too, and rushed from their homes in the rain. It wasn't a pack of ogres as they had thought, but rather a lone beast that had probably lost his way. Still, a frightened ogre was far more dangerous.

Jack raced through the woods with a lantern, calling for Bo. His heart raced in his chest, terrified that she was hurt of even killed. He now knew that he loved the dark-haired beauty that had come to their town, more than he would ever love anything else in the world. And he would save her. Yes, he would be a hero and win her heart like so many knights had done before.

When Jack found her, slumped on the ground in a pool of her own blood, he froze in place. She looked dead, her face white and her lips blue, but he could see the rise and fall of her chest and knew she was still clinging to life. Jack scooped her in his arms, nearly falling over as he stood, then ran as fast as he could back into town.

The journey seemed to take forever. With every jolted footstep, Belle let out a cry of pain. Jack would have given his own soul to be able to fly with ease to the town doctor, if only to spare her even a millisecond of pain. When he finally reached town, the rain had stopped and the village had gathered in the square. When they saw Jack approaching with Belle in his arms, they parted and allowed him to pass.

Jack rushed to the doctor. The old man with silver hair instructed Jack to lay Bo on the table. The room was surrounded with vials of medicine, dry herbs hanging from the rafters, and a draft from the doused fireplace. The doctor, named Rathskeller, took linen from a wicker basket and pressed it to Belle's wound. She yelped and jerked her head up. Jack laid his hand on her forehead and easer her back down.

"The wound is deep," Rathskeller said. "How did this happen?"

"I-I don't know," Jack said. His face was flush, his hands red with Belle's blood. "An ogre . . . he must've—"

"Hold this for me." Rathskeller took Jack's hand, pulled him to the other side of the table, and made him press down on the linen over Belle's injury. It was already soaked through with blood. "Press hard. No matter what she does, press hard."

But Belle only whimpered, her body trembling. The doctor poured some wine into a bowl, soaked his hands, and grabbed a vile from the shelf after he dried his hands. He went to the young woman's side and uncorked the vial with his teeth.

"What is that?" Jack asked.

"Move the cloth," Rathskeller instructed.

Jack did, then took Belle's hand. He grimaced as the doctor poured the green liquid into Belle's wound. She didn't cry out in pain, barely even moved as the fluid bubbled and mixed with her blood. Then, it stopped.

Rathskeller shook his head. "It's not working."

Jack looked at him. "What's not working?"

"She'll die."

"What are you talking about?" Jack cried. "You're a doctor, fix her!"

"I can't work miracles!" the doctor argued. "It would take—" He stopped and stared at Jack. The two seemed to share a similar thought.

Jack let go of Belle's hand and ran outside to the courtyard. The town was still gathered, whispering and stretching their necks to get a look inside the doctor's office.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" Jack yelled into the sky. "Rumpelstiltskin, I summon you!"

"Jack, what're you doing?" Mother Hubbard appeared from the crowd and grabbed her son's arm. "It's not worth it! Let her go!"

"Rumpelstiltskin! I want to make a deal with you!"

There was a gust of wind, the smell of dry leaves and mothballs, and Rumpelstiltskin appeared on the fountain, sitting in the lap of the town's founder like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

"There's no need to shout, sonny," he said. "I can hear you just fine."

The crowd of gatherers looked at him in horror. Jack stepped forward, his face defiant. "I need your help."

"Of course you do." Rumpelstiltskin hopped off the statue and approached Jack, that devilish look in his eye, green skin sparkling even in twilight. "But what do I get out of it?"

"You can have anything," Jack said. "Please just save her."

Rumpel smiled. "'Anything' is my favorite kind of deal. Be careful what you ask for, sonny."

"I don't care what it costs!" Jack yelled. His voice was so booming and authoritative; a hush came over the crowd. No one had ever heard him speak like that, especially not to someone as powerful as the Dark Lord.

Rumpel clapped his hands together and giggled. "Done!" He shooed Jack out of the way and entered the doctor's office. Rathskeller hurried out of his own building as if his coattails were on fire.

What Rumpelstiltskin saw lying on the table made him stop. His devious smile vanished. Every bit of human that was still left inside him came rushing to the surface. Suddenly, he didn't care about deals or power or striking fear in the hearts of everyone he met. All he saw was Belle, the woman he loved more than anything, lie dying on a table.

She was alive . . . but for how long? Rumpelstiltskin thought he had lost her once already when the Evil queen said she had jumped to her death from a tower. He should have known Regina was lying. Still, that didn't keep his heart from breaking, or having his dreams plagued with thoughts of her apparent suicide. And worst, still, he always thought he was to blame for Belle's death.

But now she was here, right in front of him. Dying once again.

Jack entered the office. "Can you fix her?"

Rumpel couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She may have only been away for a few months, but he had willed himself to forget every contour of her face, every freckle on her nose, every eyelash on her beautiful blue eyes. He chest rose and fell with small, fading breaths, but the color hadn't drained from her cheeks just yet.

"Get out." Rumpel said to Jack.

"No."

Rumpel turned to the boy. "GET OUT!"

He waved his hand, sending Jack flying out into the street. The door slammed shut on its own. Rumpelstiltskin reached out, slowly making his way to Belle. He touched her arm cautiously, as if she were a dream that could vanish at any moment. The wound in her abdomen was deep and black with blood.

Rumpel leaned in and carefully stroked Belle's hair. He hovered his other hand over her injury. His palm glowed purple; smoke-like magic emanating him and into Belle. As her wound sealed, he kissed her temple and whispered, "You're alive."

Belle's eyes snapped open and she gasped a breath. The gash had completely healed and the blood was gone. The color returned to her face and her eyes brightened. Rumpel smiled, tears welling in his eyes. He finally had her back. He could finally love her the way he hadn't before, tell her that she really did mean more to him that his power. They could finally have their happy ending.

Belle looked at the man before her. Actually, he was more of a monster than a man, with his green skin and strange eyes. She crinkled her eyebrows in confusion and said, "Who are you?"