"What do you mean you remember?" Belle hissed, turning to face him.
August smirked. "Are you telling me you don't?"
"I'm not telling you anything," she said, turning to look for Rumple. She didn't see him anywhere, and began to panic.
"I remember a life beyond this place," August murmured, standing close to her again. The two were standing shoulder to shoulder, looking ahead at the steam rising from the soaked ground. "Tell me you don't."
"I don't," she responded automatically.
"Lies," he whispered.
"What are you doing here?" She asked him, too afraid to look over at him.
"I write," he told her simply. "Let's keep this little secret between you and me, for now."
Rumple appeared at her side, looking at the two suspiciously. "Isabelle," he said. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she said quietly as August nodded at the pair, and then melted into the crowd, "Just tired."
"Strange thing...about this fire," he said, his brown eyes penetrating. She had to look away, afraid he would know it was her who started it if she met his gaze.
"Take me home," she said, looking down at her feet.
"As you wish."
They walked in silence back to his car. When they got home she walked quickly through the house into her room to change. He walked up after her, and waited patiently. She took her time getting undressed, staring at herself in the mirror. She slowly began to feel like her normal self, and began to reevaluate the events from earlier. She had felt almost possessed to start that fire, without thinking through the consequences. If Regina found out it had been her who lit that match, she'd be locked up faster than she could blink, and this time Regina would never let her go.
She quietly walked into the hallway and into Rumple's dark room. She thought he must be asleep by now, and climbed in softly next to him, curling up next to him.
"I thought we weren't keeping secrets, Isabelle," he whispered into her ear. Her eyes flew open.
"What are you talking about?"
"That little fire you started earlier."
She pulled away, afraid. "How did you know it was me?"
"Dear, I know everything that goes on in Storybrooke. Why did you do it?"
"I don't know," she finally admitted. "It was like something was compelling me to."
"Magic," he murmured into her hair as she cuddled back up to him.
"I guess so." She wondered if she should tell him about August, but even as the words were forming to tell him, something stopped her. It was the same feeling she had had before she lit the match. She closed her eyes, resolved to discover his secrets. There was more to him than a simple story writer.
If Belle had thought finding August was going to be easy after his confession, she was in for a surprise. Much to her dismay, she was unable to find him anywhere, and was unwilling to ask anyone about him. Regina was on the war path, trying to discover who had lit the fire, even though her grave remained relatively untouched. Belle imagined he must be keeping a low profile, and decided it might be in her best interest to do the same. She knew Rumple wasn't going to sell her out, but she didn't know August's intentions, or even who he really was. That was what she really wanted to know.
In her spare time she poured through her book, hoping his story would be in there, but so far he remained an elusive mystery.
Belle found herself inside the library on a particularly rainy day, feet resting against the counter as she read her book, when someone stepped up to the counter. She set her book in her lap as she looked up, and immediately wished she hadn't.
"Isabelle." Her father, Moe French, was standing there, looking nervous.
"Dad," she said slowly, unsure what she should do. Part of her wondered if this was an ambush, and she prepared herself to fight, if she needed to.
"Can we talk?" He asked, shuffling his feet a bit.
"I'm working," she waved her hand, indicating this.
"After work? Please, Isabelle?"
She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, letting old memories flood in for a moment before firmly pushing them out. "Where?"
"Granny's...I'll buy you dinner."
"I get off at four," she told him, and he offered her a small smile. She didn't return it, and he walked out seemingly happier than when he came in. She wondered if she should tell someone she was going out with him, but decided not to in the end. She didn't feel like she was in any danger.
She found him sitting in Granny's at four ten, when she got there. She sat across from him at a table, watching his face carefully.
"Do you want something to drink?" He asked her eagerly.
"Oh...uh, water is fine." He told Ruby, who went off to grab it, and the two sat there across from each other in awkward silence.
"You look good," he told her finally. "Happy."
"I am happy," she said softly, sipping her water.
"I am so sorry..." he started, but she put her hand up to stop him.
"Why?"
"I don't know," he admitted.
"You don't know? Were you trying to kill me, or just teach me a brutal lesson?" She knew he thought she was talking about recent events, but her mind was back when she had left Rumple's castle.
"Isabelle..."
"You let her lock me up!" Her voice was rising in anger. "You let her come in and take me, and lock me up! You knew I was there."
"Look...Isabelle, please, calm down," he said desperately. "You don't know what Regina is like."
She laughed derisively. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea what she's like." She looked over him hard, noticing he bruises, and his arm was covered in a cast. He noticed her staring.
"The handiwork of your beloved Mr. Gold," he said bitterly. She furrowed her brow, wondering what her father could have done to Rumple to make him snap like that. She scooted her chair out from the table, and stood up.
"I can't have this conversation with you," she said, moving to leave.
"You're making a mistake! Whatever you owe him, it's not worth this!" He yelled after her. She stopped in her tracks and turned around, walking quickly over to the table despite everyone staring at her.
"I guess I owe him my thanks, if he beat some sense into you," she said in a low voice. Her father sat there, speechless as she went to walk back out again.
"Your mother would be so disappointed!" He yelled, in a last ditch attempt to get her to come back. She paused, closing her eyes for a moment, and then pushed the door open and left.
Belle sighed, thinking that her mother probably would be disappointed, but not in her. It had been her mother, after all, who had taught her to fall in love beyond the skin, so to speak. She imagined her mother would understand her choice in Rumpelstiltskin. She shook her head as she walked, wishing she could get his words about her mother out of her head. Her mother had been the best person she could imagine, and it was a shame the curse couldn't bring her back.
She walked into Gold's pawn shop still thinking about her mother. "What's eating at you, dearie?" Rumple had glasses on, and was examining something.
"Saw the beating you gave my Dad," she told him, leaning up against the counter, her back to him.
"Did you now?"
"Why did you do that?" She asked him, staring at a rocking horse in the corner.
"He took something of mine," he said softly, and she heard him set down whatever he was examining.
"Oh? What did he take?" She asked. Rumple walked over to her, leaning against the counter next to her.
"Nothing I didn't get back."
She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "Why does everyone think I owe you something?"
"Because they can't imagine a pretty girl like yourself spending so much time with me."
"No one sees you correctly," she sighed, looking up. "And I'm willing to bet I'm one of the few people here who don't owe you something."
"You'd probably be correct in thinking that."
"Someday, when everyone remembers themselves, they will see you clearly."
"I hope you're right, love."
Belle was supposed to meet Rumple at his house later that night, but instead decided to stop by the park and swing for a while. The air was cool, and the park was empty, giving her plenty of time to be alone and think. She drug her feet against the wood chips and had both hands gripping the cold metal of the chains. She didn't hear soft, silent footsteps behind her until something hard connected with the back of her head, and she blacked out.
Belle woke up on a cold gray floor, and for a moment she was sure that she had been dreaming that life she had with Rumple, but none of it was real. She lifted her head and looked around, and realized she was in someone's house, but she didn't recognize whose. She stood up and began walking up the stairs, even though she realized the door was probably locked. When it wasn't, she opened it quietly, but didn't see anyone. She walked quickly through the house for the front door when something shiny and metal caught her eye. It was a piccolo, and she almost picked it up before she remembered the goal was to get out of here. Not sure why she would be put in a house if no one was going to ensure she stay there, she ran down the street and back into town and straight into the waiting arms of August. If she had been more perceptive she might have noticed he was standing there, waiting for her, as if he knew she would be coming.
"The Pied Piper," she breathed, looking behind her. "He's here."
"Who?" August asked, taking a step back but keeping both hands on her upper arms.
"I just...saw his piccolo," she was out of breath and frantic. The Pied Piper was known, back in her land, for coming into villages and luring children to their death with his song of the devil.
"The Pied Piper? Belle, you sound..."
"Crazy?" She demanded, shaking his grip off him. "Yeah. Got it. That's a common theme around here."
"I was going to say shaken up. What happened?"
She looked up at him; about to tell him about the black out, when something stopped her. Maybe it was all the time she spent around Rumple, trying to read his expressions to figure out if he was telling her the truth, but something in August's eyes made her distrustful.
"I need to get home," she stepped around him. "We can talk about this later."
"Whatever you want...Isabelle." She hurried home, not looking back. She didn't see him watch her until she disappeared.
"Where have you been?" Belle came in to the house to find Rumple looking mildly concerned, standing in the hallway by the door.
"I blacked out," she said, sinking into a chair. "Someone is playing a game with me, and I can't figure out who, or what they want. I'm afraid."
Rumple's eyes flashed momentarily. "What do you mean?"
"I woke up in a strange house, and I think it belonged to whoever was the Pied Piper," she told him, fear creeping into her voice. Rumple straightened up. He was not going to tell her, but he had been the one to give the Pied Piper his magical piccolo, and he would have liked to have it back.
"How can you be sure?" He asked her.
"I saw the piccolo," she told him, rubbing a spot in her hair. Rumple smiled a little, to himself. He would have Belle show him the house later in the week, and reclaim the piccolo while the man was out. As he thought this, it dawned on him she had been in his home.
"What do you mean you woke up in a strange home?" He asked her.
"Someone hit me over the head?" She admitted.
"How did they manage that?"
"I went to the park..."
Rumple gave her a serious look. "I thought we agreed you would come straight home..."
"I know," she said, chastened. "I just didn't want to sit here alone all night."
Rumple digested all this information. He had been right in giving her, her memory back; she was becoming extremely useful as far as information went, but a liability when it came to staying safe. To make his plan work, once the final battle began, he needed to keep her closer to him, so someone else didn't harm her beforehand. Someone besides him and Regina must have regained their memory, and had to be aware she also had her memory. The best thing Belle had going for her was everyone thinking she was odd at best, crazy at worst. People paid her no attention as she ran around town, trying to play detective and bring people back into the fold. He needed her to start listening to him when he told her to do things, but he didn't want her to know that he was telling her what to do. He needed to tread very carefully. Clearing his throat to get her attention, he gingerly knelt down in front of her, taking a hand in his.
"You should be more careful," he began, trying to look as concerned as possible.
"I am being careful!" She exclaimed indignantly.
"You're not," he said. "If you were, you would not be getting hit over the head or lighting public property on fire. I am worried about you."
Her eyes got wide. "I'm not trying to worry you," she said as she tightened her grip on his hand.
"I lost you once...I don't know if I could lose you again. Please...I need you to be more careful. For me," he tacked on that last part, sure he had her sold.
"I'm really sorry," she hung her head. He scooted forward a little, wincing at the weight he was putting on his bad leg, and lifted her chin with a finger.
"Promise, dearie."
"I promise," she whispered. He kissed her slowly, and when they broke apart he knew she was completely under his spell with this one. It was a little intoxicating for him to see how easy it was to control her, without magic. He had always heard that love was the most powerful kind of magic, but had never actually seen it in action.
He stood up, her following, and went into the kitchen. They shared a meal, talking quietly about his day, and then went upstairs to sleep. When she climbed in next to him, settled in for the night, he asked her quietly, "Does someone else remember?"
She swallowed and remembered the promise she had just made to be safe. Maybe if she just told him, he could handle August, or at least figure out who he was and if he was a good guy or bad guy.
"August does," she whispered. Rumple didn't say anything, but he had suspected this might be the case. He needed to find out how he got his memory back before he told Belle. People would get their memories back when he decided; this was one secret he needed to keep under wraps.
He felt her breathing slowly next to him. He knew her black out might help him figure this out, now he just needed to figure out how to get her to remember.
