Summary: "You have to get her to fall in love with you again."
God, I told myself I wasn't going to torture myself with one of these Belle-loses-her-memory-and-Rumple-has-to-restore-it fics, but what with the events in The Outsider, I just had to. Good Gods, what is wrong with these writers? They just love poking holes in the Rumbelle ship, don't they? Please don't let them end like the Titanic, oh pleeeaaaase…
Oh, and if you saw the Canadian promo, just pretend Rumple never kissed Belle. We can't have her screaming and being completely terrified of him, can we? Also, yes, she's going by Gabbe. I assume Belle either has a Storybrooke persona waiting in the wings, or they're going to pull a Charming and have her get complete, total amnesia. For the sake of a plot, I'm giving her a semi-background story that has nothing to do with Over the Hills, so please don't assume that Gabbe and this Gabbe are the same Storybrooke Belle, if that makes any sense. I'm only using this name for the sake of needing another name. Maybe I should stop writing stories like these.
My head is beginning to hurt.
Also—yay, Coop makes a comeback. She's bitchy and it's only for one segment, but it felt necessary. I needed someone who wasn't an evil witch or Emma to give advice without cowering in fear while simultaneously giving Rum a verbal bitch slap.
Disclaimer: Don't own the quote. Don't own the song. Don't own OUAT. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction. I'd be hitting Hook with another car and getting Rumple to get Belle's memory back, of course.
Box Up All the Butterflies
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depths of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more. [Alfred Lloyd Tennyson]
Caroline Truelove was probably one of the oddest ducks in town—a pretty girl who lived forever in the shadows of mystery, giving the odd stranger her name and nothing else. No one in Storybrooke knew much about her, other than she was the best (only) marriage counselor in town, and after the curse had been broken, nobody rose to claim her as family, friend, or even acquaintance, and that cloud of mystique only grew.
Nobody talked to her outside of her counseling sessions. It was a sort of unspoken rule—Caroline was sweet enough, pretty enough, and on the outside, she definitely looked normal enough—but there was something off-putting about her, something that said it was fine to look but forbidden to touch. Something that had everyone backing away.
Well… maybe not everyone.
Rumpelstiltskin, for example, was a prime exception.
The Dark One in question was given a wide berth as he stormed his way down the residential street, straight to the unlucky relationship therapist's home. People watched with wide eyes as magic sparked from his very fingertips, simmering over the careful control he'd been exhibiting since his true love—that strange girl, Belle, even stranger than Caroline—had walked into his life.
That control seemed to be slipping, and was nearly unleashed as he stepped onto the former Cupid's property. He raised a hand to begin pounding on the red door, only to be cut off as said door swung open. Cooper—Caroline—whatever, didn't look very amused, glowering at him with glittering hazel eyes.
"Think you could be just a little less conspicuous? I could feel your rage all the way across town. It began to grate on me—and I'd been feeling so good, too, what with all the reunited true loves. It's the moment I've been waiting nearly thirty years for, Rum, and you ruined it. What the hell do you want?"
The Dark One was—if it was possible—even less in the mood for pleasantries than the harbinger of true romance. He snarled in her face, bracing a hand against the wall of the house, trying to cage her in against the door. "What the hell do I want? Check your list, Coop. Not all of your true loves are united. Belle—"
"Lost her memory, yes, the whole town is aware," Cooper snapped back, her hazel eyes flashing. "What do you want me to do about it?"
"Do about it? I want you to get her memory back!" The last part was said in a shout that resonated through the whole neighborhood, if not the whole town. A number of people turned their heads to look at the scene.
Coop turned her cold glare on the majority of the onlookers, who startled and went about their day, pointedly ignoring them. Her hazel eyes flickered back to her guest, the look of irritation fading into one of mild sympathy. "I can't," she muttered, "True love conquers all—that much is true, but amnesia is a loophole the gods didn't plan on. True love's kiss can't break the curse if the victim can't even remember who they're supposedly in love with. She doesn't remember you, so it's not technically true love." She bit her lip. "But technicalities always were a bore. This kind of magic is embedded inside of you. Deep inside you and nothing can just make it leave. She still cares for you—she just can't remember it. She might find herself trusting you, even if she doesn't know why. Smiling even though she has no reason to. Falling for you without expecting it."
Rum's anger had subsided considerably, his rage giving way to exhaustion. Over the course of the past few days, what with the arrival of Hook and the new stranger, and Belle losing her memory, he'd been on a tirade, desperate for an answer. And here, with the person he'd been so sure could give him the right one, knowing she couldn't, he finally allowed himself to deflate and the pain to take over.
"Then what can you do?" She had to have some sway in the way of the world; more so than even the Dark One; she was love personified. She could do anything she wanted. She knew more than he did, was older than even him. She had to know something.
Coop eyed him warily, assessed him, as if she was checking his sanity. Checking to see if he'd lash out and kill her with his cane if she said the wrong thing. Finally, as if realizing that no, he wasn't going to bash her skull in or cast some weird voodoo curse on her, she sighed. "I can't do anything. Only you can. You have to get her to fall in love with you again."
That said, Coop smiled conspiratorially, shutting the door in his face.
Rum stared at the door, wondering just how he could do that.
He found her at Granny's.
No surprise.
It seemed her life in Storybrooke wasn't too different than her life in the Old World, with the major exception that he was no one to her. She was still considered a bit of an oddity, she still had that love of books, and she was still clumsy as hell.
The difference?
She was cooler to the people around her. More closed-off. Timid, if he didn't know any better. She jumped at the slightest sound, trembling like a leaf, the mere shadow of the brave, brilliant, shining soul he'd fallen in love with. She seemed weaker.
God, it was going to be so hard not to kill Regina.
Ruby, with her dreamy, teenage fantasies of true love, helped him with any chance he could to get her back. She'd drop hints to this shell of Belle—Gabbe, her name is Gabbe—and seat her right beside him when they happened to be in the diner together.
It was during one of these instances, a few days after that meeting with Coop, that Rumple decided to put his plan into action. She herself seemed to be sensing a change in the air, because she was the one to approach him—always the one, always the one to approach first—standing timidly by his booth at the diner, shifting from foot to foot. Her head was bowed and her eyes were averted.
"You're Mr. Gold, right?"
He looked up at her, smiling lightly. She wasn't Belle, but at the same time, she was. "Yeah. And you're Be—Gabbe."
She frowned at the misstep in her name, but recovered quickly. "Yeah… um, well, the sheriff told me about you… how you saved my life, from that man. How you called the paramedics. I just wanted to say thank you, you know. It's… um… thanks."
Gold smiled slowly. "Well… I did promise I'd protect you, didn't I?"
Had he? Belle had thought that day at the pawnshop had been a dream—that day in the woods… she hadn't remembered anything after that, other than getting shot at the town line. It had been a blur of color and muffled words, and she'd been trying very hard to get those lost memories back.
"You really don't remember anything?"
Belle started at the deep, almost eager baritone. She blinked slowly. "Oh… no. Sorry. Dr. Whale says it could be shock, you know. From getting shot." She looked back down, at the toes of her shoes. "I—I don't suppose you could tell me anything, could you?"
He shook his head. He wanted to tell her everything—but chances were, all that would get him was a crazy stare and her making a point to never see him again. "Sorry, dear. I don't know much. All I know is I'm supposed to protect you, apparently." Yes, he'd protect her—better than he had before. From Hook, from Regina, from Cora—from everyone.
Belle nodded in understanding, cracking a small smile. "Judging by the scar I have on my back, I'd say I need it."
He returned her smile, his anger sparking in his veins. Hook was lucky he was in heavy lockdown in the hospital, or Rumple would've hunted the bastard down and killed him himself. "Perhaps. Look—Gabbe." It felt so odd, saying that name. He threaded his fingers together in front of him, looking her square in the eyes. She could barely meet his gaze. "I know—I know you barely know me, but obviously you need—you need a home. And…"
"And you wanted to know if I wanted to move in with you?" she finished. She didn't look particularly surprised or appalled, just curious, like she'd been expecting it. "Ruby told me you might ask me that. Said you'd been really worried about me." She eyed him curiously, tilting her head to one side, her blue eyes assessing him. "You knew me, didn't you? Before." She said it as if it were a chapter of her life. Her life Before and her life After. Before the asylum, after the asylum. Before the curse, After the curse.
Rumpelstiltskin didn't flinch, didn't back away, didn't deny it. He just nodded. "You did."
"My memory of my life before the asylum is shoddy at best," Belle/Gabbe admitted, her eyes still downcast, unable to meet his gaze. "So… I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's not your fault you don't remember." It's Hook's. And mine. "So, is this a yes?"
Gabbe bit her lip, taking a moment to contemplate, to weigh her options. He didn't seem like an axe-murderer, stalker or rapist, and even if he was, Gabbe was pretty sure she'd be able to take him down if necessary. Part of her screamed at her for jumping at the chance to move in with a perfect stranger, but he seemed sincere when he said he'd protect her. And although he was, admittedly, a pretty scary guy, another part of her thrilled at being close to him. He was a part of her past... she knew it. But to accept whatever their relationship was, first she had to remember it.
She nodded slowly, giving him a small smile.
"This is a yes."
Alright, part one of two, complete! I'll try and have the second part out before Sunday—actually, I can pretty much guarantee it'll be out before Sunday, so keep an eye out for it. The reason it's split into two chapters is actually because the plot calls for something lengthy, and I don't like these chapters being extra-super-epic long. Also, sorry if this sucks, or seems kind of shoddy—I wanted to get over the preliminary part of this fic, so yeah.
Also, yes, I know, no normal person would just agree to move in like that, but like Coop said... you don't just forget your true love. Not completely, anyway ;)