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"Honestly, I can get a room at Granny's until I find another place to live," Belle told Callum as she signed the discharge papers releasing her from the hospital.
"Absolutely not," Callum protested, wrapping her coat around her shoulders in preparation for departure. "You're coming home with Bae and me."
"I don't want to be any trouble," she protested. "After everything I've put you through, why haven't you given up on me?" Her enchanting blue eyes were red-rimmed and bleary and her cheeks were mottled with scrapes and bruises. To Callum, she had never looked more beautiful.
"Because," he said huskily, covering her small, soft hands with his large, rough ones, "when you find something worth fighting for, you never give up."
Dr. Whale had elected to keep Belle at Storybrooke General for two days of observation and oxygen treatments. "Just a precaution," he assured them. "You were extremely lucky, Miss French. A beam that size falling from the ceiling could have killed you. I can't believe it didn't break one or both of your legs." He shook his head in amazement. "But other than a mild case of smoke inhalation, I'm pleased to report that you're absolutely fine. I'd like you to stay home and rest for a few more days, though."
"My home was destroyed in the fire, Dr. Whale," she reminded him wryly.
"She'll be well cared for," Gold inserted brusquely. "She has a home with me for as long as she wants one."
"Indeed," she joked, sighing in mock surrender. "It seems my hero won't take no for an answer."
Callum sighed in relief, thrilled by her acquiescence, and pushed Belle's wheelchair out the hospital doors and into the brisk autumn breeze.
xoxoxo
"Callum, do you have my teacup?" she asked, once she was settled on the couch in the den with an afghan tucked around her body and a steaming mug of tea laced with honey and lemon within easy reach. Bae was still at school and Callum had closed his shop for the day, insistent on pampering Belle.
"Right here, love," he replied, retrieving it from his coat pocket and removing the layers of tissue paper.
Her beloved teacup—the last one from the antique tea service he had gifted her and the only item to survive the fire—had been in her hands when he found her. The medical team had gingerly pried it from her fingers, taking care not to break the delicate porcelain.
"Thank you," she said, as he placed it in her hands. "It's my favorite thing in the whole world and the only one left of the set you gave me. Isn't it incredible that something so fragile can be so resilient?" Belle asked, her tone a combination of sorrow and awe.
"Aye," he smiled, his dark eyes shining with affection, "it's amazing."
Following a light dinner of clear soup and bread that slid easily down everyone's battered throats, Callum allowed Bae to regale Belle with a tale from his comics (no talking for Belle) before ushering them both to bed.
Accompanying Belle to the guest room door, Callum bussed her cool forehead with his firm lips. "If you need anything, no matter the time of night, I'm right across the hall," he reminded her.
"I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me," Belle said softly, kissing his cheek.
"It's no matter." Callum rubbed absently at the spot her lips had grazed as he limped to his own room, still enjoying the tingling warmth as he lay down to chase his own slumber.
xoxoxo
Callum twisted and turned in the tangled sheets, restless in his fitful sleep. Awaking for the third time in as many hours, he finally realized the reason for his disquiet.
Belle was standing at the foot of his bed. Quickly, he snapped the switch on the bedside lamp. Poor darling, he thought. The shadows under her eyes were long and deep and her sapphire eyes were spiked with tears. She focused her attention on her painted toes as he looked at her with tired, unfocused eyes.
It dawned on him that Belle was likely frightened, possibly reliving the events of the fire. "Belle? Have you slept at all tonight?"
She shook her head slowly. "May I…that is, would it be all right…you said if I needed something…"
"Would you like to sleep here? With me?" he offered.
Nodding, more tears spilled over the apples of her cheeks and she sniffled.
Callum didn't think; he simply opened his arms to her, once again laying bare his heart. Almost as quickly, he longed to rescind the gesture. What would she think of him tomorrow, taking advantage of her in a moment of weakness? In all likelihood she just wanted a warm body to lie next to—any body would do, he thought grimly.
Even as his doubts plagued him, one heartbeat later she was crawling into bed and sinking into his embrace with an artless sigh of appreciation. She tucked her little head against his chest, delighting him with the feel of her curls tickling his neck. Wordlessly, he tightened his arms around her middle, offering his guardianship.
Tears choked her voice and he felt them raining down on his chest, their cool wetness trickling into the small patch of warm skin exposed by his V-neck t-shirt. Saying nothing, he waited patiently; she would talk when she was ready.
After a lengthy silence she spoke into the darkness. "I was in a fire in our home when I was just about Bae's age." Belle paused to draw a shaky breath and Callum stayed very still and silent, mentally willing her to continue. "I was rescued, but my parents…it was too late. They died."
"Oh, Belle. I'm so sorry," he said, stroking her hair. "You must have been so scared."
He felt her nod against his chest. "After that I was alone," she went on, "bouncing between orphanages and foster homes for the next nine years. When I turned 16, I joined the Australian ballet. Last year we toured the U.S. doing the Nutcracker; that's how I wound up here. During a matinee, I ruptured my Achilles tendon. I couldn't perform, so I left the company and stayed in the States. This probably sounds ridiculous, but I closed my eyes and picked a spot on the map. My finger landed on Storybrooke, Maine, and, well, I always wanted to open a bookshop. I figured it was now or never."
"You're so brave, Belle," he whispered, his brogue thick with admiration.
That small acknowledgement snapped a cord of tension in her spirit and Belle's tears flowed again, her tiny shoulders shaking with grief.
She cried for the shop; for her parents; for her fears; and for Callum's unbelievable kindness. No one had cared for her so tenderly in years. Being cloaked in his embrace was both sensual and reassuring and she prayed that morning might never come so she could stay just a little longer.
As he shushed, stroked, and spoke to her like she was something precious instead of a lost, broken little girl, she screwed her eyes shut. Continuously, he whispered soothing nonsense in his deep Scottish burr. Could he feel the rapid beating of her heart? Did he have any idea how extraordinarily special he made her feel?
"I failed my family the first time around," he admitted, both to unburden his heart and to distract her from her hurt. "My wife and Bae's mother, she hated small town life as the wife of a spinner and shop owner. She could never understand why I didn't want to move to Boston and be a big-city lawyer."
He told Belle everything—about Milah's struggles as a mother, her decision to leave, and the accident that ended her life.
"It was my fault Milah died," he said. "I think that's why I'm so protective of Bae. If I had been courageous enough to do what she needed me to do, she would still be alive."
"No one is to blame for Milah's death," Belle protested fiercely. "And sacrificing your passion and your values to make someone else happy—that's not love. Love is revealing your heart. It's choosing to see the best in another person and allowing them to bring out the best in you. That's who you are, Callum Gold. You see and bring out the best in Bae, in Jefferson, in Grace…and in me."
"Do you really think that?" he asked, scarcely able to believe it. "You bring out the best in me, too, Belle."
"Cal," she stammered, hardly knowing where to start.
But he read her mind somehow, shocking her with the revelation that he was as fearful of rejection as she was. "I know I'm not much, Belle," he apologized. "And I'm hardly worthy of you. But I do love you. And I will give you the best that I have."
Lifting her head from its perch on his chest, she gave him a blinding smile. "I love you, too. Callum, How can you say you aren't worthy of me? Please, don't ever say that again. You are the bravest, kindest man I have ever known and a wonderful father."
Finding her lips in the dark, he kissed her. This time, she didn't pull away. Tongues and limbs entwined, they found healing in each other's arms until they both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Up Next: Belle falls into a pleasant routine as a member of the Gold household, but secrets and problems continue to threaten their happiness.
