Author's note: Merry Christmas! Have an update, in which we remember s6 fondly, pretending that it was all wonderful and made perfect sense. (Thanks, Santa, for getting me those rose-tinted goggles I asked for!)

Storybrooke was at peace. The realms had been saved from collapse. The Dark Curse was broken, the Black Fairy dead, and no new villain had sprung up to threaten Storybrooke. Belle had her baby and her husband back. The chasm that their marriage had become was slowly being bridged, with help from Archie to navigate the gaps.

She knew all that. But even six months later, the nightmares persisted. She tried not to wake Rumple, knowing he would blame himself for her fears. And this time it wasn't his fault. It really wasn't — he had done everything he possibly could to reassure her of his love, his honesty, and his loyalty to his family. So when she woke up in the dead of the night, consumed with irrational terror and tears in her eyes, she kept herself still and her breathing even. But Rumple had already noticed the shift in weight, or perhaps the rapid beat of her heart.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked softly. He reached over to touch her hand.

"Nothing. Nightmares." She left it at that, hoping that they could go to sleep, rolling over to snuggle up against the warmth of his body. But the fear lingered, disturbing images breaking into her thoughts. Unable to rest, she rolled back the other way, not wanting to disturb Rumple further.

"Belle... what is it?" he murmured at last. "Please, you can tell me."

Belle shivered. "I keep thinking that I'm dead. That the Dark Curse was never cast, that I died in Regina's cell."

Rumple was silent for a long moment. Then, "I'm so sorry. You should have said..."

"I see her in my mind, this other Belle. She can't rest. There's something she wants to tell me, but I can't hear her properly. I feel like I'm going mad..."

Rumple brushed the hair from her neck and kissed her gently. "Shh. You're not. You're not going mad."

Belle closed her eyes. "I don't know why I keep dreaming of her."

Rumple sighed. "Do you remember when Regina's evil half used a genie to wish Miss Swan away? It... it generated a variant timeline. One where she was never the Savior."

"Mmm." Belle remembered hearing about it later, once the dust had settled.

"Well, there is a version of reality where you... where that happened. But I didn't die there. I know because he wants something from me."

Belle twisted her head around to give Rumple a startled look. His expression was unreadable in the dark, but she could guess. "You've been dreaming of your other self, too?"

"Yeah. Only I've been shutting him out. I can help you do the same."

Belle opened her mouth to agree. She had barely recovered from the post-sleeping curse burning nightmares when this new set had begun. At the last moment, she changed her mind. "No, wait."

"What?"

One of the most important changes they had made to repair their marriage was to be honest with each other and always hear each other out. And now they had already been dishonest, each of them hiding their nightmares from the other. And now... a Rumplestiltskin from another reality was fundamentally the same man she loved. He had to be. Therefore— "Maybe you should hear him out. See what he wants."

"He wants my power," muttered Rumple, sounding ashamed.

"Oh, Rumple." She caught his hand and squeezed it. "Maybe he has a good reason. Did you ask him why?"

"You don't understand. This is a world where I lost you, lost Bae." His voice turned vicious. "It's me without hope, and you have no idea how dangerous that makes him. He's a mad beast who needs to be put out of his misery."

Belle's heart broke for him. "Rumple. No. You've never been that..." But how easy it was for him to believe it.

"It's the truth."

"It's not. I've thought that about you before, but I was wrong." She had seen him broken, seen him lost to darkness, but now she also saw the love that always burned at his core. "You're stronger than you think you are. But sometimes you need someone to help you, and that's not weakness. Even the strongest person can't carry the weight of the whole world."

Rumple scoffed at that. "He thinks he can. That's why he wants the power."

"What?" That was so far out of her expectation that she sat up in the bed, looking down at Rumple until he sighed and sat up beside her.

"He means to break into our world, to become real. But his reality isn't real. It's a perversion of what should be, conjured up from a wish. The people there are phantoms, mirages. They shouldn't exist in the first place."

"But... but... they think they're real?"

"They're no more real than a dream. A possibility you imagined too vividly. Let them fade into memory."

Belle frowned. That couldn't be right. "The other me... she looked so sad. Rumple, there's more to them than that. They may have begun in a wish, but... please, maybe if we just speak to the other you."

Rumple sighed, looking away.

"Don't you still have some of the sands of Morpheus? We can hear him out," Belle pleaded. "Just once."

It was a long time before Rumple finally answered, "Very well. We'll go together."

The sand took them to an old cottage in the middle of a sunny meadow. A sledgehammer stood propped against the wall near the door.

"This is where I lived, once," said Rumple. "With Bae." Then his gaze slid to the sledgehammer, and he muttered, "He put it there. The other me."

Belle gripped his hand in reassurance. "Why?"

"It's to remind me of when I became a coward." His voice dripped with self-loathing.

Belle winced. That couldn't be right, not if the other Rumplestiltskin wanted something from this one. Then she realized. "No. It's to remind you of when you became a parent. When you chose to put your child first."

"You always did know me better than I knew myself," came a voice Belle had not heard in years. The same and not the same, pitched higher, a vocal mask that set the speaker apart from the rest of humanity. The imp she had once known limped out of the cottage, leaning on a stick. "Belle..." Then his eyes moved to his Storybrooke counterpart. "And other-me. You've cut your hair; can't say it's much of an improvement."

"Rumple?" Belle looked from one to the other.

"She wanted to let you have your say," said her Rumple flatly, not taking his gaze off the other. "So speak."

Imp Rumple nodded. He seemed to sag against the door frame, glancing again at Belle before looking away. She wondered whether his limp was an effect of the dream, or whether something had happened to his waking self. "What do you want to hear? That I'm selfish, that I only crave power, that I'm weak and evil, the version of yourself that you would rather lock away in the dark? Well, yes, dearie, that's all true... but you forget that I'm not the only one conjured up out of Regina's spiteful little wish."

"No," growled Rumple. "But the others aren't trying to transgress the laws of reality. We've fought fate before, and how well did that ever turn out for us?"

The imp flinched as if struck, and Belle remembered that Baelfire was dead in both versions of reality. He took a breath, then said softly, "Lie down and die, is that it?"

"You're nothing but misbegotten dreams. You survive in the memories of the true versions of yourselves. Let reality stand."

"And what about those of us who never existed in your reality?"

"What?" Taken aback by the question, Rumple had no immediate rejoinder.

"You're not the only one who brought along a guest." The imp tilted his head and called into the cottage, "Alice, you can stop lurking in the corners of my dream and come out now."

A young woman maneuvered around the imp and stepped blinking out into the light. She grinned cheekily from under an unruly mass of blond hair. "Hey, I was worried about you." She looked at Belle and Rumple. "Hello, real people. Welcome to the zoo."

"Hello, I'm Belle," said Belle, trying to be polite.

"Who the hell are you?" Rumple didn't bother.

"I'm Alice Jones."

"Hook's daughter," added the imp. "And I'll thank you not to erase her from existence."

"The pirate has a daughter?" Rumple boggled. "How is that even possible?"

"Must I explain? When a man and a woman—"

Rumple cut him off with a sharp gesture. "I mean how can a wish create people? Even a genie shouldn't be that powerful."

"Except in the case of a self-sustaining, self-creating wish. As this was." The imp glanced at Alice, a hint of fondness briefly softening his expression. "Well. She's not the only one. The point of divergence occurred thirty years ago."

"Bae," breathed Rumple. "I can almost remember..."

"Yes." The imp fell silent, subdued by whatever memories were summoned by that name.

Not the only one. Belle's breath stopped as she realized what it meant. They had been frozen in time in Storybrooke for twenty-eight years, but people in the wish realm had lived and died, a whole new generation born. Alice was only one of a multitude.

"Thirty years, aye, so who are you to say that our thirty years were less than yours?" Alice stepped closer and peered at Belle. "Tell me, Real Belle, will you look me in the eye and say I don't exist?"

"You don't," snapped Rumple, touching Belle's arm as she tensed. "And your version of Belle is dead, so I don't call that an improvement."

"Swings and roundabouts, mate," said Alice. "Burying our memories isn't going to make Fake Belle any less dead. It's just adding dirt to the grave."

Belle grip tightened on Rumple's hand. "She has a point, Rumple. And she deserves a chance. If we can help them..."

"To bring a whole realm of people into existence..." Rumple's tone became quieter, calmer. "His power is limited to that given by the wish, and it's not enough to make it real. He needs an outside energy source. Me."

"You," agreed the imp. "Or rather, the darkness you hold... Dark One." He smiled sardonically at Rumple. "Were you planning on keeping that burden forever? Time to lay it down, old man."

He had done it once, but not by choice. Belle remembered the Apprentice pulling the darkness from Rumple's dying heart. She shot him a worried look. "You mean... you wouldn't be the Dark One anymore? You'd be mortal again?"

"Magic on such a scale... I'm not sure even the Dark One's magic would suffice, not even if he drained me dry."

"Oh, you're not the only source, just the main one," said the imp. "But yes. By my calculations, it can be done."

Rumple grunted noncommittally. "I'm sure you've spent more thought on this than I have."

"Indeed."

"I wasn't planning on living forever, no," Rumple conceded at last. "But I need to protect my family. The real one. Belle, and our son... he's only an infant now."

"Rumple, they are real," Belle whispered, unable to meet Alice's reproachful gaze. "Just because there's some... some magical difference between 'real' and 'fake', doesn't mean they aren't people." She remembered the dead Belle of her nightmares. Her suffering had been real. "And... we were always planning to see the world. Including the land without magic. You don't need that power, Rumple, but we have to help these people."

Rumple eyed Alice and the imp. "They'll all be dumped into the land without magic..."

"On the other side of the continent from your precious Storybrooke," said the imp. "So you don't need to worry on that account."

"And if they hop on a plane with vengeance in mind? I won't have the power to stop them."

"Vengeance?" Belle looked at the two Rumples in bewilderment, but they only exchanged dark looks. "Vengeance for what?"

"Your Regina was a touch overdramatic in fetching the swan princess from the wish realm," said the imp. "Crushed hearts were involved. A grief-stricken boy ascended to the throne..."

"And yet you expect me to allow you through?"

"Through the looking glass and onto the chessboard," said Alice. "What's the fun of a game with only one side?"

"We have 'fun' enough in Storybrooke without duplicating ourselves," said Rumple. "This is more like inviting a tiger into one's house."

"I promised him my help." The imp held his counterpart's gaze until Rumple slowly nodded.

"I see."

Belle bit her lip, telling herself he didn't mean 'help the boy commit murder'. She knew he was capable of it — her version of Rumple had slain both his parents in cold blood — but he didn't want his loved ones to darken themselves that way. In the end— "Rumple, they deserve a chance. It's not their fault they were created from a wish. If you can use your curse to save them, I think in a way, that's turning darkness into light."

"You still want me to be a hero?" Rumple smiled slightly, then shook his head, but not in refusal. "Very well. So be it." He waved a hand, the Dark One dagger appearing in a puff of smoke. His impish counterpart did the same, and the two exchanged daggers.

Once the daggers changed hands, the world began to fade from around them. Belle saw the other Rumple's eyes linger on her, his expression a mixture of pain and longing. The last thing she heard before she woke was Alice thanking them.

Belle opened her eyes. "We... we did the right thing, didn't we?"

"Hmmm." Rumple stared down at the dagger still in his hands. Black letters on a silvery blade, identical to the original, before he had remade it from Excalibur. "I suppose we'll find out."