Sorry about the wait on this, but this chapter was the hardest to write and went through at least 5 rewrites, 3 of them major structural rewrites and shifts. So… enjoy. This has been my hardest fic to write, yet. I have no idea how long this will end up being but I anticipate many more chapters to come. Thanks to all who have reviewed, you kind, lovely people.
"Please make it stop," she sniffled brokenly, fingers squeezing weakly at his. His Belle was curled against a pillow, a few tears still falling.
He adjusted the blanket, bringing it up around her shoulders as she shivered. She must be cold again, and Gold could hardly keep up with the changes between hot and cold. Hopper called it 'hypersensitivity' and said it was very common with withdrawal. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it will get better."
"The line's in," the nurse murmured. She was standing on the other side of the bed, starting the IV that had been deemed necessary. The woman was smart enough to roundly ignore the conversation, her eyes firmly on the instruments and her patient's hand. She'd also had the sense to cup her hand over the small flashlight she used, to shield its brightness. "This might feel a little strange, but I'm simply making sure things are taped down."
Belle's forehead wrinkled in obvious disapproval as the tape was added, her fingers squeezing tighter around his.
"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly.
"A bit… It feels strange," she sniffled, starting to squirm onto her side.
After a perfunctory check, the nurse turned back to the pair. "Every thing is set, we'll let it run its course now. I'll be nearby if you need anything."
He practically bit his lip to keep from grinding out yes, privacy. It had better get better. It was taking every single ounce of self-control not to take his cane to Nolan. Or David. James. Whoever the man was now. Or the doctor who had been in and out a few times now. Taking a slow breath, Gold attempted to push aside the anger. It wasn't helping Belle, and she needed help now. She certainly didn't need to see him beat someone senseless in front of her.
Sunlight was trying to creep around the edges of the window shades, but Hopper had insisted they should keep the room dark for Belle's sake. The light bothered her. Sounds bothered her, voices at a normal pitch often seeming much louder than they actually were. And they had gone through several panicked rounds where she was hot and complained either the robe or blankets were too heavy leading to a frenzied rush to get the offending materials off and away as fast as possible.
He started to reach, catching himself just in time. Gold was learning to ask first. "May I help you?"
She nodded, unable to hide the small shiver when they had to adjust the blankets ever so slightly to allow her to turn. No doubt it had let in a small draft. Belle huddled into the blankets.
"Easy," he murmured, using some pillows to bolster her. He very gently eased up the hand with the IV, tucking another smaller pillow under it and easing the covers up to the line. Her small sigh was one he took for relief, and he basked in a simple moment of quiet, of alone with her.
It had taken a while to calm Belle when Nolan's arrival had frightened her, to help her change into clean pajamas, which again hung on her thin frame. He managed to coax her into the adjoining room, but conversation was stilted. She was antsy, always glancing around the room, unable to give responses to very many of Hopper's open-ended questions. It was when she couldn't answer about pills that Hopper made the decision. "Belle, we need to get you to a hospital," Hopper tried to say, but he didn't get far.
Her eyes went wide, and she scrambled backwards into the very corner of the sofa. "No! I can't!" she immediately protested, cowering when the man pulled out his cell phone. "Rumple, you said I wasn't going anywhere!"
He hadn't felt so torn in decades. Something was obviously wrong, and even she had acknowledged to Hopper in her own stilted way that something wasn't right. Crazy was the word she had used, and he'd objected immediately to the term. His Belle was not crazy. "She's not going anywhere unless she chooses to go."
Gold still wasn't sure he had made the right decision. Yes, he was irritated at the people invading his home. Not only because it was his, not only because no one except Ashley and intruders had been in this home ever. But because every person who came only upset Belle, everyone was a stranger when she was craving solitude and sleep.
"Close your eyes, sweetheart," he murmured, thumb rubbing over her knuckles. "You're staying right here. I'll be here when you wake up." Gold fought the panic and frustration that bubbled up every time those teary blue eyes locked with his. He hated seeing her upset and hurting.
The IV stand was set up beside the bed, her arm with the line propped up on the pillow. Coaxing her into holding still had been a battle that left her exhausted but submitting to it as the only alternative to having to actually go to the Storybrooke hospital. He knew he should be thankful that the nurse hit a vein the first time, but he was still angry that part of the reason why she needed the line was because she got so upset she was sick over Nolan and Hopper's sudden intrusion. That she was in withdrawal and dehydrated.
It was Nolan's idea to call Doc rather that Whale, although it was a toss up, really, between the two. Neither dealt with much drug use, forced or otherwise. Whale was a surgeon; Doc was a country doctor who dealt with general practice. But it was the best they could do. Even if he hit the road with her, their only other option would be a recovery clinic. One look at Belle, and they would admit her to a program, and he wouldn't see her for days if not weeks. He hadn't considered it for longer than a single moment. No. Not an option.
She blinked slowly up at him, and he wished desperately that she wouldn't fight sleep or the anti-anxiety medication that Hopper had doled out. The cricket had assured them it was a very small dosage meant to curb some of the effects of withdrawal. No one had yet to determine exactly what she was coming off of, but for now Gold was glad to let Nolan and Hopper deal with that. For now, anyway. "I'm staying here," she murmured, the word slurring with sleep.
"Right here in my home," he assured.
Another slow blink in the dim light, and she yawned so loudly her jaw popped. "Did those other people leave?"
He caught the edge in her question. "Only Dr. Hopper and the nurse are staying, but they're downstairs for now. Do you need another sip of water?"
"No," she sighed, eyes sliding shut again.
Gold wished she would say 'yes.' There were serious dehydration concerns, and the fact that she'd lost everything she ate for supper wasn't helping. Doctor's orders were rest, specifically sleep, followed by as much soft foods as she could manage. Someone was supposed to be sending more bananas, soup, and bread for toast.
"Let yourself relax, sweetheart, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. And when you're up to it, I'll show you around the back," he murmured, voice pitched at its softest register, the words slipping easily from his tongue as he let his brogue thicken. "I have some lovely roses, and when you feel ready for a change, I'll show you my shop. I have so many things there, things from the Dark Castle. There it is now, nice and easy," Gold assured when he saw her body finally give up some of the tenseness it has held all night.
He settled into the armchair that someone, possibly Hopper, had dragged alongside the bed earlier. "There are so many wonders in my shop, Belle," he kept his voice pitched to a low lilt, "there are trinkets and gems, treasures untold. Swords and objects of every kind. And several antique volumes all yours for the reading."
Her breath was evened out now, chest rising and falling, and he at last let himself fully relax into the chair. "So many lovely objects," he sighed himself now, his own yawn making him sink further into the chair and give up the weary battle to sleep before he could even consider the comfort of his seat or what the next hours might bring.