Belle was struggling to bite back her anger as she made her way to his room. She didn't relish the idea of fighting with her husband, especially after he had been freshly admitted to Storybrooke General- but he needed to be confronted. Sick or not, he needed to be called out on his scheming.

The scene Belle walked in on tugged at her heart. Charlie's white receiving blanket was twisted in his hands as a nurse tried and failed to draw a vial of blood from his left arm. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gold," she said. "Do you think you're dehydrated?"

"You tell me, dearie," he growled through clenched teeth.

"It would probably be easier to put a PICC line in for the I.V. We can worry about the blood test afterward."

"Sounds like a plan," he muttered, flexing his arm. Anthony Gold wasn't afraid of needles per se, but over a year of being treated like a human pincushion was beginning to take its toll. "And would you mind sampling a breath mint before you try again?"

The nurse fled the room in a huff, impatiently pushing past Belle in her haste to find another needle.

"That quip will probably cost you, Ant," said Belle. "She won't bother being gentle next time." Belle was never much shocked by the way her husband dealt with hospital staff, but taunting a phlebotomist seemed especially reckless.

Gold nodded. "They're more efficient when they don't care about hurting you."

Belle chuckled in spite of herself. "If you say so."

"How's Charlie?" Gold's voice softened.

"Sleeping. It's funny how she only does that during the day." Belle allowed herself another giggle. "I don't think Granny minds."

"Mrs. Lucas has been a godsend." Gold cleared his throat. "Did you see Dr. Whale lurking in the corridor? The pill-pusher never told me how long they intend to keep me."

"I didn't see him. How are you feeling?" She leaned over to plant a kiss on his forehead. Gold was a difficult man to love, and it defied logic that he should also prove to be a difficult man to stay mad at.

Anthony groaned in appreciation and pulled her down to kiss her properly. "Better, now that you're here."

Belle wanted to let the issue go and wait to address it, but she knew it was too important to shelf. She drew herself back. "Anthony, what can you tell me about Emma Swan?"
A pause. Gold's eyes shuttered and closed off.

"Emma," he said. "What a lovely name."

"Do you know who she is?" She wasn't fooled by Gold's attempts at evasion.

Gold exhaled slowly, carefully choosing his words. "She is Henry's birth mother," he said obtusely, using a tone of voice that suggested whatever Belle had to say, it was irrational.

"Did you bring her here?" Belle was trying to be patient, but she knew her husband too well.

"In a manner of speaking. Henry wanted to find her, I brokered his adoption, so I gave him a name."

"WHY? Tell me why would you do this? You know nothing about this woman! Why would you let Henry put himself at such a risk? Please tell me this isn't one last power play between you and Regina." Belle's volume was low, but her tone betrayed the magma beneath the surface.

Gold wanted to deny Belle's accusations, but there was a grain of truth to some of them. His expression was annoyed, defensive. "She has been spreading gossip about us since the first time you stepped in my shop, Belle," he said. "She called you a gold-digger to your face-the same day she found out about my cancer, no less. If Regina gets hurt by this, I am more than fine with it."

"What about Henry? He's the one who will suffer and be confused." Belle willed herself not to shout or say anything regrettable. She reminded herself her husband was in a hospital bed. "Tell me, please. What possessed you to contact that woman?"

"I made no contact with her, dearie. Henry asked and I answered."

Belle scowled at her Anthony, feeling guilty for confronting him at all. She loved him more than life itself, but she knew him too damn well. "I know you wouldn't have told Henry anything if there wasn't something else at play. Please be honest with me."

He hesitated, looking obtuse and unwilling to share. Finally, "I might have done some research before I told Henry about Emma. She had just turned eighteen when he was born, spent her childhood in and out of foster care. She arranged a private adoption so her son wouldn't get lost in the system the way she did." Gold broke off coughing.

Belle poured him a cup of water from the hospital issue carafe. "You're sure the doctor told you bronchitis?" she asked, worry returning from remission. "Not pneumonia?"

"I'm sure, love. They're only keeping me as a precaution. Besides, you don't need me at home getting the baby sick." Gold smiled to reassure her. The last several months had been kind to Anthony; he was nearly back to his normal weight and his hair was growing back nicely- if a bit grayer. "Why don't you let your father keep Charlie for the night?" he suggested. "He's always offering to help."

"What?" Belle was stunned. "No. She needs me."

"Sweetheart, at this rate YOU are going to end up in the hospital. Let Moe watch the baby."

"I'm fine, Ant, and quit trying to distract me. I'm still upset with you."

"We had a deal, Belle. You're supposed to take care of yourself."

Belle had heard that line more times than she cared to think about. "We'll see," she murmured as the nurse re-entered the room.

The nurse's eyes shot daggers at Gold, but it took her brief seconds to insert the PICC line. Belle's lips twitched as Gold's eyes met hers with a smug I-told-you-so look and only the hint of a wince; he would be insufferable later...

0

Belle took Anthony's advice that night. He satisfied her whims when he could, and her Papa was delighted to have little Charlotte Rose to himself. And Belle was grateful, in the long run, that she didn't have to drop the baby off when she was called to the hospital at 3a.m.

0

He was still holding Charlie's blanket when Belle ran into his room. In the midst of the chaos and noise, the only thing she could see was the baby blanket in Anthony's hands. White on white. Pale hands grasping at the only comfort left.

Dr. Whale was astounded by the torrent of profanities Belle rained on him. Empathy wasn't his strong suit, and he was expecting her to thank him for stabilizing Gold. Savage, he thought later, shaking his head. The woman was a savage.

0

The darkness cleared slowly, giving way to light and formless shapes. Then, out of nothing:
Belle's face was the first thing he saw upon waking. Her eyes were wet and smudged with weariness. She was deathly pale and her usually tidy curls were all but standing on end.

"You look like Frankenstein's bride, dearie." The raspy croak was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.

Belle tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. She had been brave, but she would never forget the moments in which her worst fears had been realized. "You flatlined, Anthony," she said thickly. Hysteria wasn't far away. "I watched you die."

Gold tried to smile. "Dr. Whale saw fit to reanimate me I take it?"

Belle nodded. "I don't understand all of what happened. Whale said you had an adverse reaction to some of the medication. Your blood pressure dropped and..."

"Belle, I'm here. I'm fine." Gold's voice was stronger than it had any right to be. "We still have time left, sweetheart."

"If they hadn't... Our last conversation would have been an argument." Belle's voice was shaking and her body was rocking slightly. Anthony had never seen her like this, so fragile. She wasn't broken, but her fear was chipping away at her strength. He could only imagine his own state if their positions were reversed. With that in mind it was suddenly very easy to be the brave one.

"Hey. Hey. Belle, look at me." His muscles were sore, but he forced himself to sit anyway, putting his gentle hands on her forearms. She was trembling. "You were right," Gold said. "I shouldn't have interfered with Henry without talking to you first. You were right."

Belle shook her head. "What kind of woman picks a fight with her husband when he's-"

Gold cut her off. "A saint couldn't be more patient with me than you've been, Belle. I know I'm a difficult man to love."

"Loving you isn't the hard part, Anthony." Belle sighed. "Understanding you, on the other hand..."

"That shouldn't be so hard, dearie," said Gold with a grin. "You know me better than anyone."

"Sometimes I think I do, but other times you're an enigma."

"And you love that. What was it you said that day? Love is a mystery to be uncovered." Gold smirked. "But if you ever doubt my motives, jump to the worst possible conclusion and you'll most likely be right."

"That's not true." Her eyes searched his face intently. Gold stared back at her, pale from his near-death experience but otherwise amused. "Why did you tell Henry about Emma?" Belle asked. The amusement slipped away; Gold parsed his words over before he spoke them.

"Henry's different," he said. "Lonely. How many other children his age spend their afternoons in dusty pawnshops?" Anthony held Belle's gaze, something in his eyes soft and pleading for understanding. "I'd like to think … I'd like to think there will be someone else on Henry's side when I die. Someone like a mother – or just an adult friend. I don't want to leave a void when I go."

"Anthony, I-" Belle was at a loss for words; instead of speaking she did what seemed to be the only thing she had been able to do for Anthony from the beginning. She held his hand.

His thumb grazed over her knuckles. "I wonder how Charlie's doing," he said.

"She's probably giving Dad a run for his money." Belle glanced at her husband. "Ant, I'm never going to argue with you again."

"You shouldn't make promises you don't intend to keep, dearie."

"I mean it. No more fighting." Belle's voice was firm.

Anthony looked genuinely perturbed. "Belle, I love fighting with you," he said. "You are the only person in this town brave enough to openly defy me."

"I don't feel brave right now, Anthony."

"Maybe not right now, sweetheart. But you're still the bravest person I know." Gold kissed her hand. "Dearie, do you have any strong opinions about installing a nanny-cam?"