A/N: OMG the response to that last chapter was overwhelming! Thank you all for your lovely comments. Quite a few of you have Gold sussed out, and you all seem to like the angst while also not wanting our babies to be hurt. I appreciate it so much, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Janiquebeingcreative prompted: "The condom breaks and massive angst follows (there's of course no need for anything to come of it, but the following breakdown is just too delicious to imagine)" (I couldn't put this prompt at the beginning of the last chapter for obvious reasons)

This was also prompted by my own personal Squick Demon in the second chapter, but I decided to leave it for a more angsty point in the story.

Belle's heart, already beating hard from her climax, seemed to jump up into her throat and thump loudly as she looked up at Gold, his face anguished as he held up the remains of the condom, his fingers covered in whitish, glistening fluid. Pulse throbbing in her ears, she pushed him up with urgent hands to scramble out from underneath him and run naked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Her heart was pounding, her lower lip trembling and her hands shaking as she turned on the shower. Putting a hand between her legs, she could feel the trickle of warm, slippery wetness, and she moaned a little in fear as it coated her fingers. Not waiting for the water to heat, she ducked under the shower, grabbing the hose and washing herself, scrubbing with a loofah mitt until her skin was pink.

Eventually she felt clean, the tender skin between her thighs almost squeaking, but she knew that the damage, if there was to be any, had already been done. He had come inside her, after all. She turned off the shower, stepping out on shaking legs and wrapping herself in a towel, her movements mechanical. The energy seemed to drain out of her, the adrenaline of a few minutes ago gone, leaving her more tired than she had felt in weeks, and she slid to the floor, pulling up her knees and pushing her head into her folded arms. There was a tentative knock at the bathroom door, and she ignored it, eyes stinging as she started to weep. It was too much, on top of everything else. She had heard of condoms breaking, of course she had, but it had never happened to anyone she knew. It would just have to happen to her, wouldn't it?

"Belle?" Gold sounded worried, but she didn't care. "Can I come in?"

She wrapped her arms around her head, his voice muffled to a soft murmur, and her shoulders shook as tears poured down her face. Dimly, she was aware of the door opening, and then he was there, crouching awkwardly beside her in his black robe, his touch on her shoulder light, uncertain. She felt like shaking it off.

"Belle, please don't," he said gently. "Please, sweetheart."

She raised her head, suddenly furious.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry if my meltdown is a little inconvenient for you!" she snapped tearfully. "May i remind you that our bloody birth control failed? I think I've earned the right to bloody panic, thank you!"

He sat back, one finger stroking a lock of wet hair off her face. She felt like biting it.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean it like that, I just - I don't like to see you upset."

"Upset?" she said incredulously, his capacity for understatement making her even angrier. "No, Rum! I was upset with the finale of How I Met Your Mother! I was upset when I put my white dress in the wash with a red sock I didn't even realise I bloody owned! I am not upset now, I'm bloody devastated, you stupid bloody…"

She buried her head in her hands, bursting into tears again, wishing he'd just go away and leave her the hell alone for five minutes.

Gold felt helpless, unsure whether to touch her, wanting desperately to pull her close and comfort her. Dimly, he tried to think of something to say that wasn't trite or useless, and latched onto the practicalities of the situation.

"So, I take it you're not on the…" he began, and cut off as she jerked her head up and glared at him.

"No, genius, the sixteen year-old whose father thinks she's still a bloody virgin is not on the bloody pill!" she shouted. "What do you think the condoms were for, you bloody idiot?"

He supposed he deserved that. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling useless. His ankle was also killing him, and he desperately wanted to stand up, but he didn't want to leave her sitting on the floor, weeping. Sighing to himself, he turned, sitting down beside her and putting his arms around her. She resisted at first, but he whispered soothing words and kissed her head, and eventually she fell against him, her small body wracked with sobs. He put gentle hands under her arms, pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms tight around her so that her head was tucked under his chin, her tears soaking his bare chest where the robe had gaped open. He stroked her back, hating that she was so upset and that he was the cause, hating that he could hurt her so, so much.

"Why?" she sobbed, clutching at his chest, her breath catching with the force of her weeping. "W-why did it have to happen to us? Why this, on top of ev-everything? I can't - I can't stand it, Rum! I can't t-take it!"

Gold squeezed his eyes shut, pushing his nose into her damp hair.

"It seems that all I ever do is make you cry," he said quietly, and she only cried harder, big, choking sobs that shook her body. He rocked her gently, whispering nonsense to her, telling her that it was alright, that it would be fine. She was either too upset to tell him he was an idiot anymore, or she had stopped listening to him, but either way she simply cried until she had run out of tears and could only hiccough unhappily, her body jerking in his arms. He pressed kisses to the top of her head, and she shifted position, raising her head a little so that he could kiss her brow.

Eventually she quieted, heaving a huge, shuddering sigh, and the tension appeared to leave her in a rush as she collapsed against him. He loosened his grip a little, lifting a hand to slide a finger under her chin and tilt her head upwards. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face still wet with tears, and he kissed them away, soft lips pressing against her cheeks and eyelids, the taste of her salt on his tongue.

"I'm tired, Rum," she said despondently, her voice hoarse with tears. "I'm so - tired."

He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in the sweet scent of her, guilt burning through him as he held her.

"I know," he whispered, rocking her against him. "I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry, believe me. I'm so, so sorry."

She sniffed a couple of times, scrubbing at her nose with the back of her hand, and he kissed her forehead again, his arms tightening, squeezing her close. Belle looked up at him sadly, and he smiled.

"It'll be alright, I promise," he said gently. "We could - I mean - there's always emergency contraception."

She sniffed, scrubbing her hand across her face.

"I guess," she said, her voice a little wobbly. "I suppose I knew that, I just…"

She broke off helplessly, and he nodded.

"Sometimes you need to shut down," he said calmly.

"Yeah." Her voice was thick with emotion, and he kissed her again. Her face twisted, tears leaking from her eyes again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm acting like an idiot."

"Of course you're not," he said firmly. "You take so much on yourself, Belle. There's no shame in breaking down."

She sighed, settling against his chest with a huff of warm breath, and he let his head rest against hers for a moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of her body as she breathed.

"So," she said eventually, her voice quiet, weary. "The emergency contraception. I don't have to go ask Mr Clark for it, do I?"

"I don't know if you can get it from our pharmacy," he admitted. "But I'll check, alright?"

"Okay." She wriggled a little, and he let her go so that she could stand up. She blew her nose several times and washed her face in the sink, going through to the bedroom when she had dried her face and leaving him there on the floor. His leg had gone to sleep after having her sitting on it for so long, and it was some time before he could get up, but eventually, he managed to pull himself up on the edge of the sink, limping through to the bedroom. She was mostly dressed, just zipping herself up, and she turned to him, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Can we use your computer?" she asked awkwardly, and he nodded.

In the end, they found that the Dark Star Pharmacy did not dispense emergency contraception, and Belle was secretly pleased. She didn't really want anyone in Storybrooke knowing that she had had unprotected sex, as there was always a risk, no matter how small, that word of it could get back to her father. She didn't want him worrying about her when he had more than enough to concern himself with. Gold said there was a family planning clinic in the next town along, however.

"They open early," he said, watching her anxiously. "We could go tomorrow morning. It'll mean we'll both be a little late for school, but I'm sure we can work around that."

She rubbed her eyes, feeling tired and emotional.

"You'll come with me?" she asked uncertainly. "I wasn't sure - you won't have to tell them it was you, right?"

He hesitated. "I don't think they'll ask," he admitted. "But either way I'll go with you. It says here that you'll be asked some questions about your health, but you can get the pill there and then."

"Okay." She felt a little happier, and foolish for breaking down so completely. It had been a long time since she had cried so much, and perhaps that was the problem. She had spent so long trying to be strong, trying to block out what was happening with her father, that it had all built up and the unfortunate condom breakage had opened the floodgates. She felt desperately tired.

"I think I'll go home," she said despondently, rubbing her arms as if she were cold. "It's getting late, and I guess we'll have to leave early."

"I'll pick you up at seven," he said, and she frowned.

"There's no need, I could…"

"I'll pick you up at seven," he said firmly.

He was true to his word, and Belle sneaked out of the house at five to seven to find the Cadillac waiting for her. Pleased that the street appeared to be empty, she slipped into the passenger seat and pulled on her seatbelt, glancing across at Gold. He looked tired, his eyes shadowed, and she wondered if he had gotten as little sleep as she had. Moe had not mentioned the fact that she had obviously been crying, but his new painkillers were making him sleepy and somewhat lightheaded. She was glad. She really didn't want him being upset over her crying, as he would only blame himself, and his illness was only partly the cause of her brief breakdown. Astrid, however, had given her a quick, soft look of understanding and had made her some hot cocoa before she left. Belle had drunk it sitting in bed with her feet curled under her, thinking over the events of the evening. She was a little embarrassed over breaking down so completely and not having the presence of mind to consider the morning after pill. Ruby would have knocked some sense into her, had Belle been able to speak to her about it.

Crying normally made her feel better, but this time it had not had the cathartic effect she expected. She felt drained, empty, and somehow fragile, as though her fit of weeping had drawn all emotion from her and left her a shell of a girl, a hollow figurine made of cold, brittle porcelain. She could barely sense Gold's touch when he briefly put his hand on hers and squeezed it, his fingers in the leather glove as cold and hard as she felt. They drove in silence for the most part, Belle fretting that something would prevent her from getting the contraception, and Gold with a closed, unreadable expression on his face. It was a relief to get to the next town, and park up outside the clinic, which was just opening its doors. Gold opened the car door for her and helped her out, and she met his eyes as she stood, his gaze troubled. She wasn't sure whether she wanted a hug or not, and worried her lip with her teeth, still fretting. His face softened a little.

"It'll be alright," he said gently, and she nodded.

The clinic was almost empty, the only other person in the waiting room a young, heavily pregnant woman with sad eyes, accompanied by an older woman whom Belle presumed was her mother. She went up to the counter, Gold lingering behind her, and a pretty, dark-haired woman look up. She was wearing blue scrubs, her hair pinned up on her head, and a serious expression broken only briefly by a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"How may I help you?" she asked, and Belle blushed.

"I need - um - the morning after pill," she muttered, and the woman looked her over for a moment that seemed to last an eternity, before reaching for a clipboard and attaching a piece of paper to it. She barely glanced at Gold.

"Come on through, dear," she said. "I'm Miss Faye. I'm one of the nurses here, and I just need to ask you a few brief questions first, okay?"

"Okay." Belle felt relieved, following the woman into a consulting room with a brief glance over her shoulder at Gold. He was watching her, and smiled encouragingly, which made her feel a little better.

Miss Faye got her to fill out a form with her personal details and took her blood pressure, which she pronounced to be excellent.

"Cigarettes?" she asked briskly.

"Oh, no, I don't smoke," said Belle hastily, and the woman smiled.

"Good. Keep doing that. What about alcohol?"

"I don't drink either," muttered Belle, and Miss Faye nodded, making a note.

"How old are you, Belle?" she asked then.

"Sixteen," said Belle uncomfortably. Miss Faye looked her up and down.

"Clearly a healthy weight," she smiled. "Not all emergency contraception works if you're obese, you know."

Belle wasn't sure what to say to that. She waited for the next question, her fingers twisting a loose thread from her skirt, the thin black line digging into her skin and turning the tip purple as the blood was cut off.

"When did you have unprotected sex?" asked Miss Faye then, her voice dispassionate, and Belle started.

"Um - about twelve hours ago, I guess," she said, and the woman sniffed.

"That's alright. The quicker you get to us, the more effective the medication will be."

"It wasn't unprotected," added Belle. "Not intentionally. We used a condom, but it broke."

"Ah." Miss Faye nodded, looking pleased. "So you were thinking about it, at least. That's good."

Irritated, but wanting the interview over with, Belle said nothing.

"And how long have you been sexually active?" Miss Faye went on, and Belle blushed.

"A couple of months, I suppose," she said. "Is that relevant?"

Miss Faye smiled, somewhat condescendingly, Belle thought.

"If this is a serious relationship, or something you're thinking of doing often, you may want to think of something more reliable than condoms," she explained. "Sure, they protect against STIs, but you should consider another form of protection as well. You may want to think about seeing your doctor and getting a prescription for birth control pills, or a shot."

Belle opened and closed her mouth a couple of times.

"I hadn't thought about that," she admitted, and Miss Faye smiled again, a little more warmly.

"Is it just you and your father at home?" she asked gently, and Belle nodded, wondering how she had guessed.

"Mum died a few years ago," she admitted, and the woman nodded sagely.

"Fathers sometimes find it difficult to have these conversations with their daughters," she said. "I can give you some literature to have a look at, and if you want to go ahead with any of the options, you can either speak to your doctor, or come back to us, okay?"

"Okay." Belle was relieved, warming to the woman, and Miss Faye stood up.

"I'll get your prescription," she said kindly. "Why don't you go wait outside, Belle?"

Belle pushed open the door to the waiting area, and Gold looked up from the travel magazine he was flicking through. His eyes were worried, his mouth thin, but he smiled briefly as she sat down next to him. The pregnant woman and her mother were nowhere to be seen.

"Alright?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I'm just waiting for the prescription," she said. "Then we can go. We should be able to get back before I miss too much of class."

He put down the magazine. "Belle, are you sure you want to go to school today?" he asked gently. "I could just take you home, you know."

She shook her head. "Of course not. My friends would ask questions, and besides, I'm fine."

"Very well, if you're sure." He was watching her a little anxiously, as though he was expecting her to break down again, and it made her feel nervous. She was already embarrassed at having lost her mind so utterly and completely in his presence. She had worked so hard to put a brave face on things, wanting to let the world know that she could handle her father's illness, wanting to let him know that she could handle an adult relationship, and this one small setback had made her bawl her eyes out like a child, had made her break down and long for him to hold her. She was desperately worried that he would think she was weak, that she couldn't handle things. She clenched her jaw at the thought, trying to project an image stronger than she was.

Miss Faye came out then, with a small paper bag in one hand and a bundle of papers in the other, and Belle and Gold stood up as one.

"Here you are," she said briskly, handing Belle the bag. "You may feel a little nauseous when you take it, but that's normal, so don't be worried. And here are those leaflets we mentioned."

"Thank you," said Belle gratefully. "How much?"

"If you have your insurer's details, I could…"

"No need," said Gold abruptly. "I'll pay cash now."

"No problem." She took him over to the counter to ring up the sale. "If your daughter decides on one of the long-term options, there are payment plans."

Belle's mouth dropped open, a tide of red sweeping up her face. To his credit, the only reaction Gold had was a slight twitch of his cheek.

"Thank you, we'll consider what you've said," he said evenly.

Mortified, Belle waited until he had paid, and they left, walking to the car in silence. She pulled open the door, squirming into the seat and groping for the water bottle she had brought, not daring to look at him. He got in beside her, placing his hands on the wheel and breathing lightly through his nose. Belle busied herself with the prescription, taking the small packet out of the paper bag and pushing the pill out of its blister pack.

"Shouldn't you read the instructions?" he asked quietly, not looking at her, and she hesitated, the pill in the palm of her hand.

"Well, you're not saying I shouldn't take it, I suppose," she said tartly, and threw it to the back of her throat, following it with a swig of water. He kept his eyes on the grey stillness of the parking lot in front of them, and Belle wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, flicking her eyes across at him.

"Done," she said, and he nodded, starting up the car and moving off, the tyres crunching on gravel as it turned out of the parking lot and onto the street. Belle shuffled the leaflets that Miss Faye had given her, stealing a glance across at him as he drove back towards Storybrooke. She badly wanted to discuss the contraception options with him, but there was a strange atmosphere between them, heavy and somehow electric, and she remained silent. Her heart was thumping in her chest again; it was as though she could feel him pulling away from her, and she wanted to tell him not to, to stay with her, that it would be alright, that they wouldn't make the same mistake again. She couldn't find the courage to open her mouth, and he said nothing, so they spent the journey in tense, miserable silence.

Belle fretted as they got closer to the school, sneaking glances at her watch. The first class had started, and she would be late, but she was more concerned about him being missed. She could easily plead that she had been dealing with her father, and no one would question it.

"Should you be teaching now?" she asked nervously, looking across at Gold.

"Study hall," was all he said, his eyes on the road, and Belle sighed. The students probably wouldn't notice if he wasn't there to keep an eye on them.

"You should drop me here," she said, as they turned onto the road where the school was, and he pulled over. His hands were tight on the wheel, his face drawn and filled with sadness, his eyes shadowed. She hesitated, unsure what to say.

"Thank you for taking me," she said eventually. "And for keeping your cool. I sort of lost it yesterday."

"Understandable," he said quietly, still not looking at her. She wanted him to meet her eyes. She wanted him to turn to her, to kiss her and give her that little, twisted smile that she saw so rarely, but he kept his eyes fixed at a point on the road ahead of him, his Adam's apple jumping slightly in his throat as he swallowed.

"Well, okay then…" She undid her seatbelt, feeling drained and wretched. "Will I see you later?"

"I have plans tonight," he said, after a moment, and flicked his eyes across to her momentarily, his lips twitching in a brief smile. "Have a good day, Belle."

She got out of the car, feeling terrible, wanting to talk to him but not knowing where to begin. He was looking more desolated than ever, and she shut the car door without speaking, watching in frustrated agony as he drove off towards the school.

She got to class before the start of English, and slid into a seat next to a curious Ruby and a sympathetic Emma, both of whom gave her a welcoming hug that made her want to cry.

"Problems?" asked Ruby, and Belle sighed.

"No more than usual," she said, which was a blatant lie. "I'm just more tired than usual, that's all."

"Well, you can relax," announced Emma. "I actually did the reading for this class, you guys. I've totally got this."

"Good, I can sleep," yawned Belle.

"And miss my moment of triumph?" protested Emma, looking outraged. "No, Belle, you have to stay awake to cheer and applaud!"

"Noted," said Belle sleepily, and Emma rolled her eyes as Ruby chuckled.

"You want to get together after class?" she asked, nudging Belle. "Come on! We haven't had a proper girls' night in weeks!"

"I know," sighed Belle. "I've been kind of busy, what with Dad getting worse."

"Just a couple of hours," pleaded Ruby. "It would do you good to get out of the house. Just come to the diner. Burgers and milkshakes on me!"

The last thing that Belle felt like doing was socialising, but she reasoned that she would otherwise just sit alone and mope, so she agreed. It wasn't as though Gold wanted her company, after all.

The school day dragged, despite it being Friday, and Belle having her favourite lessons. She was pleased when the bell rang and she could follow Ruby and Emma out of the classroom and down the stairs to the double doors at the front of the school. She felt as though the day had been wasted; she had paid little attention in class, distracted by the events of that previous twenty-four hours and her own misery, and Mr Heller had resorted to waving a hand in front of her face in English class when she zoned out.

"We could make a start on that assignment," suggested Emma, as they made their way to Granny's. Ruby wrinkled her nose.

"God, did you take over from Belle today, or something? It's Friday! No homework on Fridays, it's the unwritten rule of our sisterhood."

Belle listened with half an ear, chewing her lip as they walked along, and started when Ruby nudged her.

"How's your dad doing?" she asked, and Belle shrugged uncomfortably.

"Not great," she admitted. "Doctor Whale changed his medication again. He's taking stronger painkillers, I - I'm worried I'm losing him."

Ruby put an arm around her, hugging her close, and Belle sighed, feeling tears sting her eyes. She couldn't cry again, surely? Emma got on the other side of her, an arm around her waist, and the three of them made their way along the street, an ungainly, six-legged creature with three heads.

"We're here for you, sweetie," said Ruby gently. "Whatever crap you're going through, you can always tell us, okay?"

Her voice was sincere, and filled with meaning. Belle badly wanted to just open up and tell them about Gold, about the way he made her feel, about the panic she had felt the previous night and how good he'd been with her. She sighed, and rested her head against Emma's a little as they walked. Perhaps, one day, she'd tell them.

Gold was trying to concentrate. The school day had long since ended, and he had a pile of papers to grade. He had decided to try to mark them in his office, rather than take them home and have them sitting in a malevolent pile on his desk, making him feel guilty for enjoying the weekend. If indeed he could enjoy the weekend.

He tried to remember a time when he hadn't felt guilty, or useless, or completely out of his depth when it came to the opposite sex. Any thought he had entertained about these things getting easier with age had long since disappeared. Being with Belle, really being with Belle, when he could forget everything but the two of them and just lose himself in her, felt indescribably wonderful. She was light, and warmth, like the sun on his face, blinding him with her brightness. The fact remained, however, that in the cold light of day he was left feeling disgusted by his own weakness, by his seemingly inescapable, uncontrollable desire to ruin the life of this beautiful young girl.

He sighed, tapping his pen against the paper in front of him, having read the entire page three times and taken in nothing. Doggedly, he started over, but looked up in relief at a knock at the door. Jefferson poked his head around.

"It's gone five," he said pointedly. "Put the work away, Gold. It's Friday night."

"I'm aware of that," said Gold dryly, rubbing a finger up and down the side of his nose. Jefferson gave him a flat look.

"You look like crap," he said bluntly. "How long have you been staring at that piece of work?"

Gold sighed, sitting back and putting his pen down. "Too long," he admitted, and Jefferson smirked.

"Thought so. Come on, man. We're going for a drink."

"Very well," said Gold resignedly, standing up and reaching for his coat. "But if we do come across Nottingham and Jones being inappropriate, I'm not in the mood to be reasonable, alright?"

"Oh, I'd pay to see you beat the crap out of them," said Jefferson cheerfully. "But I doubt it'll come to that. Come on!"

He slapped Gold's rear playfully, earning a freezing glare that made him chuckle, and Gold turned off the lights and locked his office door, preparing himself for an evening in his least favourite venue.

The Rabbit Hole was its usual dingy, murky self, and Gold curled his lip as they entered, the humid fug wrapping around them and sinking into his pores. He felt a sudden urge to bathe. There were more people in the bar on a Friday, he noticed, some of them older students from the school, who were shooting him nervous looks and trying to avoid eye contact. He ignored them. Nottingham and Jones were nowhere to be seen, and he was oddly disappointed.

"Whisky?" offered Jefferson, and Gold nodded.

"See if they have anything better than that pig swill you gave me last time," he said, and Jefferson pulled a face at him before heading to the bar.

The whisky, it turned out, was twice as expensive as the last lot Jefferson had bought, and possibly one-tenth better. It was bearable, though, so Gold swilled it around his mouth while Jefferson poked a bright pink plastic stirrer in his rum and coke, swirling the ice cubes and making them clink merrily, before taking a long swig through his straw.

"God, I needed that!" he sighed, relaxing back a little. "Hell of a week, Gold, I tell you."

"Trauma in the art department?" said Gold snidely. "Did Mrs Schumann offer to pose nude for you, or something?"

Jefferson snorted. "Right. Very funny. Don't gross me out, dude, you know I'm gonna have that image in my mind when I try to sleep later."

"No doubt thoughts of our illustrious leader will banish it," smirked Gold, and Jefferson curled his lip.

"I don't lie awake at night dreaming of the Principal, man," he said sourly, stabbing at his drink with the stirrer.

"Things not working out with Regina?" asked Gold indifferently, and Jefferson pulled a face.

"There are no 'things' to work out," he said. "It's not like we're friends. We don't have a relationship, we have...fucking."

Gold put his glass down, watching the light glinting off the amber surface of the whisky.

"I suppose that's a relationship, for some," he said quietly, and Jefferson snorted.

"Sure, it's fun, and everything," he admitted. "We're physically compatible, even though she scares the crap out of me sometimes, but to be honest, it kind of feels empty. I wonder whether I'm wasting my hot little body on someone who doesn't give the tiniest crap about me."

Gold took another drink. "Is that what you feel?"

"Sometimes," said Jefferson gloomily.

"So end it," said Gold testily, unable to see the problem. Jefferson sighed, stirring his drink.

"Storybrooke isn't exactly brimming over with eligible people," he pointed out. "Who the hell would I meet? The only people I see are teachers and students. And apart from Regina, I only find one of my colleagues blisteringly hot." He winked at Gold, who gave him a very level look.

"I think not," he said evenly, and Jefferson sighed.

"You're no fun," he grumbled.

"Good. Perhaps you'll stop hitting on me."

"Never!" proclaimed Jefferson, banging his drink on the table and splashing some of it over his hand. Gold shook his head with a grin, and there was a moment of comfortable silence while Jefferson flourished a handkerchief and cleaned up the spilt Coke. Gold hesitated, unsure whether to raise the issue on his mind, but wanting another opinion. He tapped his fingertips against the glass nervously, biting the insides of his cheeks a little.

"Have you - ever had a student being inappropriate with you?" he asked, and Jefferson chuckled, his eyes twinkling.

"This wouldn't be about the lovely little Miss French, would it?" he said knowingly. "I told you to watch out for her! She finally corner you in the supply cupboard?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" said Gold repressively. "Could we get back to..?"

"Did your hands meet over a bunsen burner?"asked Jefferson, flopping back in his seat and raising his eyes to the ceiling while he pressed a palm to his chest.

"Third degree burns would hardly be romantic," snapped Gold. "Are you going to be serious, or do I have to take that stirrer out of your hand and see what I can pull out of your skull through your nose?"

Jefferson winced, sitting up again and shuddering. "You're a scary bastard at times, d'you know that?"

"It has been said." Gold's voice was dry. Jefferson sighed.

"What were we talking about, before you threatened me? Oh, yeah, my endless appeal to all ages and genders." He lounged back, grinning, and Gold rolled his eyes. Jefferson grinned wider.

"Yeah, there was this one kid," he said eventually. "Happened the first year I came to Storybrooke, actually. He was afraid of coming out, and having kind of a rough time with it. I spent a lot of time talking to him after class. I think he kind of looked up to me." He sighed deeply. "Then, one day, he told me he loved me. Tried to kiss me."

"How did you handle it?" asked Gold, and Jefferson pulled a face, mouth twisting.

"Shut him down, of course. In the nicest possible way. I mean, I explained that nothing could ever happen between us, but that I'd support him one hundred percent if he wanted me to come with him when he talked to his family." He lifted his glass, shrugging a little. "There were some tears, but we got there in the end. He went to university in Boston, met a really nice guy on the science program. He still sends me a Christmas card every year. Getting married in the spring." He took another drink, raising an eyebrow.

"Sounds as though you helped him a lot," said Gold carefully, and Jefferson shrugged.

"Kids that age, hormones all over the place, confused and scared...doesn't take a genius to figure out that they'll cling to the person that makes them feel safe, that they think understands them. I don't think he ever really loved me, of course. He was just so relieved to find someone he could talk to about how he was feeling. The poor kid was bound to want to hold onto that."

"Yeah," said Gold quietly, and took a long drink of his whisky, draining the glass. He set it down with rather more force than he meant to. "Another?"

"Sure." Jefferson busied himself with his drink as Gold pushed back from the table and went to the bar.

"Same again?" asked the barman, and Gold nodded absently, digging in his pocket for some notes. His mind was whirling with thoughts of Belle, of the scare they had had, and his feelings for her. Of how much he desperately wanted to keep her safe, to protect her from harm. Of all the dark threats aligned against her, he was beginning to think that the most damaging, and the one he had most control over, was himself.

They stayed at the bar until ten, getting steadily, contentedly drunker. Gold eventually called a cab, dropping Jefferson off at his place, submitting to a wet kiss on his cheek with minimal protest, and leaning back against the seat with a sigh as the cab drove him back to his house. He managed to get into the house without too much difficulty, and made his way up the stairs, shedding his clothes and falling into bed naked. The darkness, oddly, seemed to revive him. He thought perhaps that it was the scent of Belle, heavy on the bedclothes, and he pulled a pillow over his face, breathing deeply, inhaling her. The smell of her made his heart thump, and he grew markedly sober as he thought about what they had been through in the past day.

Shoving the pillow back under his head, he lay back with a sigh, folding his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling of the darkened room. Shadows crawled across the wall, forming pictures in the periphery of his vision, conjuring dark thoughts. They had dodged a bullet, he knew that. He hated himself for hurting her, hated himself for his weakness, for his inability to let her go, to free her from his malevolent influence. He could see her face in his mind, could hear her laugh, could almost feel the warmth and softness of her skin. She was everything he had ever wanted, and she was so far above him that he felt like dirt beneath her feet, like the cold earth in which she would soon lay her father. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps a fresh start, free of his influence. Free of the guilt and pain and inevitable misery that he would cause.

He knew that he had to stop being a coward. He knew that he had to be strong, for her sake. He knew that he had to give her back her life, her strength, her blinding light. He knew that he couldn't keep her, trapped in the shadows, shrouded in his darkness. But oh, God, how he wanted to! How he wanted to.

Tears had leaked from his eyes, running down into the hollows of his ears, and he scrubbed them away furiously, his hands shaking. He had made his decision.

A/N: This fucking hurts to write…

Next time: the readers of this fic call for my head, probably :(