A/N: I own nothing connected with Once Upon A Time, alas. I do use the odd tiny line of dialogue from OUAT, just to tie it in with the show, but the rest is mine. Mine mine mine! And all for the enjoyment of my lovely readers. Thanks to all who followed and favourited. Sorry in advance for the angst…

Erik'sTrueAngel, The Auburn Girl, Wondermorena, Twyla Mercedes, Kiri Huo Ziv, orthankg1, cheesyteal'c, jewel415, karolprado, Jedi Annie Scrambler, AngelOfMusic44, RaFire, paulawer, deweymay, ecinspired, spacecats, JustBFree, rumbelle26, emmaleewhittaker: thank you so much for your continued enthusiasm and support.

Thursday dawned clear and bright, and Belle was up early for a run. She made her usual circuit around the forest paths, enjoying the crisp winter air and the scent of the trees. There was still snow on the ground, but there had been no new falls for a day or so, and there was a crunch beneath her feet as she broke through the icy crust of the old layers. At one point she happened to glimpse over her shoulder and thought that she saw someone behind her on the path, dressed in black, and she quickened her pace a little nervously, unused to seeing anyone else on the trails. There was no further sighting, to her relief, and she assumed she had been mistaken. Heading back into town, she stopped off at Granny's for two hot chocolates, carrying them carefully back to the house for her to enjoy with Ruby before they left for the day.

"I don't suppose I'll see you until tomorrow," said Belle, as they walked to the university campus. "I'll be gone by the time you get off your shift this evening."

"Are you actually going to do some work when you go to Gold's tonight, or are the two of you finally going to admit that the only reason you meet is for hot sex?" asked Ruby, her eyes gleaming wickedly.

"It's not the only reason," protested Belle, and giggled as Ruby shot her a disbelieving look. "Okay, it's a very important reason, but that's beside the point. He does actually make me fulfil my end of the bargain before we get involved in anything else, you know."

"Hmm," said Ruby, flicking her dark hair out of her eyes. "You were late back last night again. I heard you come in, but I was too tired to get up."

Belle nodded. "Sorry if I woke you. We were – it was kind of intense."

Ruby waggled her eyebrows with a smirk. "Go on."

"Not like that," sighed Belle, and then frowned. "Well, yes, kind of like that, I guess. He told me he loved me."

Ruby chortled. "Seriously? Oh my God! The fearsome Mr Gold is in wuv?" She batted her eyelashes.

"Shut up!" Belle swatted her. "I said it first."

Ruby stopped laughing and gave her a calculating look. "So, why don't you look happier? Isn't this good?"

She pushed her chin into the pile of books in her arms, thinking. "He's keeping something from me," she said. "When I got to the shop yesterday he was slamming the phone down on someone, and then he threw it across the room and smashed some of the glass counters with his cane." She shook her head. "He said it was business, but I don't know what kind of business would create that sort of reaction."

Ruby snorted. "You haven't seen him when someone tries to get out of paying him."

"Actually I have," said Belle. "And he's intimidating, but never violent. At least, not as far as I've seen." She pulled a face. "I never saw him lose his temper before. It's – extreme."

Ruby nodded. "I can imagine. I heard that he beat the crap out of one of his tenants once. The guy left town in an ambulance and never came back."

Belle blinked. "Really?" she asked uneasily, and Ruby shrugged.

"Oh, I think there was more to it than rent arrears. I remember hearing rumours the guy was hanging around the kids' play area a little too much, if you know what I'm saying."

Belle shuddered. "Ew."

"Exactly," confirmed Ruby. "Maybe Gold had his reasons, but if so he didn't tell anyone. Didn't even get arrested, if you can believe it, even though everyone knew it was him. This was before Emma joined the police, I think."

"A long time ago, then," said Belle hopefully. "Doesn't mean he's like that now."

Ruby looked as though she privately thought that he definitely was, but she said nothing. "He always seems to me to be made of pent-up rage. I guess unleashing it would be pretty destructive." She grinned suddenly. "Is that where all the passion comes in?"

Belle gave her a flat look. "We don't need to get angry to be passionate, believe me."

Ruby chuckled. "So, come on, you were telling me about yesterday."

"Oh, yeah." Belle frowned slightly. "I asked him about the phone call, and he said he didn't want to tell me about it, but obviously something really upset him. So I asked if he'd tell me today, and he said he would." She bit her lip. "I'm actually kinda nervous."

"Worried that you'll hear something you don't like?" asked Ruby sympathetically, and Belle grimaced. The wind blew her curls into her face, and she batted them away impatiently, trying in vain to tuck them back behind her ears.

"Yeah," she said, giving up on rescuing her hair. "I mean, I know he's had this whole other life before I knew him, and I have no idea what that was. I don't want to see him hurt by his past."

"If there's anyone that can take care of himself, it's Gold," said Ruby firmly. "I'd be more worried about you."

"He'd never hurt me," said Belle at once, and her friend shook her head.

"Didn't say that. I just meant that if he's mixed up in something dark, who's to say you won't get mixed up in it too?"

Belle sighed, not wanting to think about that. "I don't think he'd do that."

"Not intentionally, maybe," agreed Ruby, and decided to change the subject as Belle scowled a little. "What else did you guys talk about?"

Belle brightened somewhat, lifting her head up away from the books. "We talked a lot, about my grandmother's book and past lives. He asked me what I thought Grandma meant in her letter to me, whether I believed in destiny." She raised her eyes to the skies, sucking her teeth and frowning. "He was – I don't know, Rubes, he's been in a strange mood for days. One minute he's all over me, and the next he backs off and looks at me as though he's scared he'll break me, or something."

"Not used to letting people in," nodded Ruby sagely. "I wouldn't worry about it. He probably just needs reassuring that you're not gonna rip his still-beating heart from his chest and stamp on it."

"Not sure how else I could convince him," grumbled Belle, and Ruby grinned.

"Yeah, short of tying him to the bed and beating some sense into him."

"Don't tempt me," chuckled Belle, blushing, and Ruby sniffed.

"The pervert would only enjoy it, anyway."

The first clue Belle had that things were not quite right was that Gold telephoned her and asked her to come to the shop that evening. He had always collected her from her house on previous Thursday evenings (or, on that one fateful occasion, the Rabbit Hole) and taken her straight to either his house or whatever restaurant they would be eating at. When she asked him where they were going, he simply said that they could decide later that evening. She asked if she should bring a bag to stay at his house, and he hesitated, before saying that he would love her to stay, but would understand if she wanted to go home. That was the second clue. Frowning to herself, but not wanting to press him in his strange mood, she decided to let it go and give him a damn good talking to when they were face to face.

She dressed as carefully as ever for the evening, putting on a black dress with a halter neck that skimmed her figure. She had purchased new underwear for the occasion, and was looking forward to showing him later. As she was going on foot, she wore flats to get to the shop, her high heels swinging from one hand as she walked, the ground bitterly cold beneath her feet. She hoped he wasn't planning on walking anywhere that evening; if Dover had the night off, perhaps he'd be willing to simply get something delivered to the shop.

She turned onto the main street, and smiled as she saw the warm glow of the pawn shop's lights, in amongst the dark hulking shapes of the surrounding buildings. Peeking through the window, she couldn't see him in the shop, and pouted. She liked to look at him when he was unaware of her, and had often paused outside the pawn shop, gazing at him as he was reading something or making notes in his ledgers. She enjoyed the look of concentration on his face, the light in his eyes, the way he moved beneath the suit he wore. Realising that she wasn't going to get to ogle him on this occasion, Belle pushed open the door to the shop, the little bell above tinkling with its usual cheerful sound.

"Hello?" she said aloud. The sign was already flipped to Closed, but she turned the lock on the door before heading towards the back room. She noted that the glass from yesterday's temper tantrum had been swept up; the counters had been cleared of the objects within to await the glazier. She eyed the curtain to the back room, blushing slightly as she recalled the events of the past two afternoons. Lifting her head, she marched firmly towards the curtain, throwing it aside, and saw him seated at the spinning wheel with his back to her, right hand turning the wheel while his left fed wool into the old-fashioned contraption. Belle felt a strange tickle at the back of her mind, an overwhelming sense of déjà vu as she watched fine thread spool from the wheel. He made a strange picture, and perhaps another time she might have giggled at the incongruous nature of it, but not tonight. There was a strange atmosphere in the room, and it was making her belly knot unpleasantly. She felt a sudden, inexplicable and rather worrying urge to burst into tears.

"So, you really can spin," she said softly, and he stiffened.

"I like to watch the wheel," he said quietly. "Helps me forget."

"Forget what?" she asked, and he put down the wool.

"Belle, please sit down." His voice, calm and soft, made her more nervous than ever, and she stepped forwards hesitantly, placing her high heels on the work bench.

"Marcus, what's going on?"

He stood up then, reaching into his pocket momentarily before crossing the room and sitting down on the narrow bed where they had spent so much time loving one another only the day before. He wasn't wearing his jacket, dressed instead in a black silk shirt and waistcoat with a black and red tie, and had something in his hands. Something golden and gleaming.

"Why do you have my necklace?" she asked curiously. He held it up, the fire opal gleaming in the light, a grim red eye watching her balefully.

"Please sit down," he repeated, and she obeyed, sinking slowly into one of the chairs.

"You're making me nervous," she said, with a tiny, awkward laugh.

He was silent for a moment, then looked up at her. She bit her lip at the pain in his eyes.

"I have to tell you – some things," he said quietly. "Things about my past. You will not enjoy hearing it."

"Okay," she said uncertainly. "You can tell me anything."

He smiled wryly. "A fine sentiment, dearest. Let's put that to the test, shall we?" He looked down at the necklace again, then up at her. "You were right," he said eventually. "About me. I do push you away. I do close myself off and refuse to let you in." He took a breath, swallowing hard, his shoulders tight. "I'm a coward, Belle, and I have been for so long that I've forgotten how to be brave." He held up a hand as she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm terrified that when I tell you what I have to say, you won't want to see me again, but I know I can't keep this from you anymore."

"Tell me," said Belle gently, although her heart was hammering with trepidation. "Whatever it is, it can't be as bad as dealing with it alone."

His mouth twisted, and he nodded grimly, as though steeling himself for a battle.

"You're aware, of course, that I own most of this town," he began, and she nodded. "What you don't know is how that came about." He took a deep breath, fixing her with a stare. "I didn't exactly have a model childhood, not that that's an excuse. I was in and out of children's homes for most of it, and got involved in gangs in Glasgow in my early teens. Before I was twenty I'd made a lot of money through nefarious means, and I moved to the US and got involved in a criminal network in Boston." His expression twisted wryly. "I worked my way up to the top by being, well, more ruthless than the others, shall we say? There was something of a – hostile takeover – for want of a better word, and all at once, at the age of twenty-three, the network was mine. I made quite a name for myself in Boston before moving to Storybrooke."

Belle swallowed hard. She had expected to be told something unsavoury. She had not expected this. "Doing what?"

He shrugged. "What I do best. Making deals. Of course, in those days, it wasn't for property or rent or antiques. It was for protection or drugs, weapons or high-end stolen goods. I built myself up a network of businesses to launder the money, bought into property here and in Boston, most of which I still own. The model of a hard-working, respectable businessman, funded by misery and bloodshed." His smile was wry and bitter. "I even decided to become a lawyer, partly so that I could have a legitimate front to show to the world, but also because it enabled me to better serve my own interests." He was watching her steadily, gauging her reaction.

"I see." She wasn't sure why she said that, because she didn't see. She didn't see at all. She had known that people were afraid of him, but had never suspected that they had so much reason to be.

"The phone call last night," he went on. "It was from an old rival of mine. I made a lot of enemies during my time, as you can imagine, but it was never enough to make me quit. It wasn't until I lost Bae that I decided to get out for good, but that was too late to save my boy."

Belle looked confused. "I thought you said he died in a car accident," she said, and he grimaced.

"Indeed. What I didn't tell you was that the man driving was one of my rival's henchmen. We were going through a rather acrimonious phase at the time. I had refused his offer to buy me out in Boston. There was some – unpleasantness – on both sides."

Belle had the feeling that this was a glaring understatement. "What does that have to do with Bae?"

He sighed, looking down at his hands. "I suspected that the crash was deliberate. Jones had been drinking, as I said, and, from what I knew of him, was no doubt up to his eyeballs on crack. It wouldn't have taken much persuasion to make him think ramming the car into a wall was a good idea."

Belle bit her lip, a look of horror on her face. "Why would someone do that? Why would they kill an innocent woman and her child?"

"Because she was expendable and he was my son," he said simply. "Because they wanted to send me a message." He sighed. "Because they knew it would break me." He hung his head, and Belle wanted to reach out to him, but she held back, still thinking things through.

"You think you know who killed your son? I can't believe you would let that go…" Her voice trailed off as she saw a flash of something in his eyes. "You haven't let it go, have you?"

"No," he whispered, a dark and somehow feral expression on his face. "I haven't let it go. I just haven't found the right – opportunity."

Belle tried to resist pulling back at the look in his eyes, and focused on something more mundane.

"But if he was on drugs when he crashed, surely the police would have a record…"

He sat up, mouth twisting, his eyes glinting with amusement. "And what? You think there are no corrupt police officers? Don't let the valiant Miss Swan blind you to the grim realities of life, dearie."

Belle scowled. "Don't patronise me. I know there are bent cops. But they're not all bad."

"Perhaps," he agreed. "But the evidence against Jones managed to disappear, nonetheless." He eyed her suddenly, cautiously. "Much like the security camera footage from the casino where your father went. I was a mess at the time. I didn't have the strength to deal with him when I could have done. But in the end, he was only a pawn. The fault lies with a higher power. One I intend to deal with when the time comes."

Belle opened and closed her mouth, looking at him, her heart beginning to thud.

"So, you're telling me that you were a – crime lord?" she said slowly, hating the sound of the words on her tongue. He barked a laugh.

"My, my, what a grand title," he drawled, smirking and making her frown. "I was a businessman. With less than legal methods of dealing with the bottom line."

Belle looked at her linked fingers, watching the light gleam off the polish on her nails. He was watching her calmly, waiting for her to ask her questions. She wondered if he was dreading it as much as she was.

"Have you…" She swallowed, afraid to ask, but knowing that she must. "Have you – killed people?"

"Yes." One word, softly spoken, but it cut her deep. She shook her head.

"How many?"

"Many." How could his voice be so emotionless?

"How many?" she asked again, her voice urgent, and his mouth twisted. She gazed at him, wide-eyed, shaking her head, her heart thumping with horror. "You don't know?" She was starting to feel sick. He looked at the floor, fidgeting slightly, then raised his head to look her in the eye, his eyes dark with pain and rage and something she couldn't quite interpret. Self-loathing, perhaps.

"Why?" She wasn't entirely sure what she was asking. He looked at her steadily.

"Because it was easy," he said calmly. "Because they had crossed me. Because they were rivals, or they threatened my interests, or they hurt my people. Sometimes just because they were the scum of the earth and the world is a better place without them. But mostly because it was easy, and I could."

She shook her head numbly. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You wanted to know, remember?" he said coldly, a hint of mockery in his voice, his hand flourishing in flamboyant gestures. "You wanted me to open up. You said I could tell you anything." He sighed, lifting his other hand, the necklace dangling from it. "And because of this."

Belle looked up, almost afraid to meet his eyes. "I don't understand."

"The necklace," he said patiently. "That old rival of mine has been seeking it for some time. The value of the stone that was in it is greater than most people could possibly comprehend. He asked me to look out for it."

Belle's heart thumped. "What?"

"I had been seeking the stone myself, for many years," he went on. "I finally heard of it surfacing in a pawn shop in Boston. So naturally I made some enquiries." His voice still had that mocking drawl that she hated. "The item was redeemed not long after, by a man intending it as a birthday gift for his lovely daughter."

Belle gasped as if he had slapped her, pushing herself up out of the chair and beginning to pace the room, a strange pounding in her head, pain spreading through her chest.

"You knew," she whispered, her eyes taut. "You knew! You knew who I was!"

"Yes," he said quietly, and it was as though a sledgehammer had smacked her in the chest. She clutched at her heart, her legs threatening to give way. It was suddenly impossible to breathe. Shadows snatched at the corners of her vision.

"When?" she asked thickly. "From the beginning?"

"Before," was all he said, and she stared at him in horror.

"How long?" she asked, and he grimaced.

"Six months or so."

"Did you know I would be on the train when we met?" she asked. Her head pounded, making it difficult to gather her thoughts, and he shook his head with a wry expression.

"Actually, that was just fate stepping in. I had planned to introduce myself at the university donors' evening."

She stopped pacing and stared at him, her vision strangely unfocused, barely seeing him. "You used me!" she said brokenly, and he shook his head fervently, standing up and stepping towards her with his hand outstretched.

"No, Belle, please! That's not what happened!"

She warded him off, slapping him away with her hands. "Don't touch me!" she shouted. "You used me!" Tears were starting in her eyes, her emotions threatening to drown her. "You knew who I was, what you wanted, and you made me…made me…" She fell to her knees suddenly, dry-heaving, her stomach retching but bringing nothing up.

"Belle," he said desperately. "Please believe me, I would never want to hurt you! I love you!"

"Liar." Her voice was tiny, broken, and she sat back on her heels and began rocking back and forth. He ached to hold her. Moving to the floor, he squatted down beside her.

"Please, Belle, just let me explain…"

"Explain what?" she demanded, her eyes bright with pain and fury. "How you've been lying to me? Using me to get to the necklace for your partner in crime? I trusted you!" Tears had begun to course down her cheeks. "I loved you, you bastard! And all you did was lie!"

"I never lied," he said coldly. "I may have engaged in some – misdirection, at times, but…"

"Oh, Gold, stop it!" she snapped, her eyes flashing at him. "You bloody well lied to me and you know it! All you wanted was the necklace."

"I wanted you," he said sharply. "I want you now. I love you."

"No you don't," she whimpered. She was still rocking, her body shaking with sobs. He touched her shoulder, and she wrenched away from him. He hesitated, then backed away, sitting down once more, watching her warily as she wept.

"Belle, please listen to me," he said gently. "The man that seeks the necklace is called Mr King, but he is known in the underworld as Midas." Belle shook her head, trying to ward off his words. "He and I have known one another for many years. When he asked me to retrieve the necklace, I knew that your father had it, and so I refused. I had made a deal with the pawnbroker for his silence. I didn't foresee that he would betray me."

Belle gulped, dashing away tears. "What are you saying?" she asked thickly. He swallowed, raising his head a little.

"Midas got the information from the pawnbroker, and sent men to your father. They are the ones that killed him."

Belle choked, clutching at her chest. She felt as though her heart was being ripped from her, leaving nothing but a void of darkness. She kept shaking her head, as though that would make everything go away.

"You knew it was him," she whispered, and he grimaced, tossing his hair and sucking in his cheeks.

"I suspected."

"You knew!" she wept. "You sat with me in that police station and let me go through that and all the time you knew who it was!" She raised her eyes to his, the pain and anger in them making him flinch. "Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you tell the police? How could you let him get away with that?"

"Because men like Midas own the police," he said flatly. "I couldn't be sure whether the detective was one of his. I can guarantee his superior would be. I was trying to protect you."

Belle wiped her eyes. "The casino my father went to. The gambling debts…"

"Midas," he confirmed. "He tried ruining your father to make him tell where the necklace was. It didn't work. Your father kept the secret. He wanted to protect you too."

Belle scrambled to her feet. "Don't you dare put yourself on the same level as him!" she snapped. "You've done nothing but lie to me since we met!"

"He lied to you, too," said Gold calmly. "And both of us thought we were doing the right thing."

She felt as though she was dying inside. "I thought you loved me," she said, in a tiny voice, and his face crumpled as he stood up.

"Oh, Belle, I love you so much!" he said brokenly, reaching for her. "If you knew…"

"Shut up!" she blurted tearfully, backing away. "I don't even know who the hell you are!" She shook her head, bending to snatch up her bag. "I can't – I can't do this…"

He sighed, running his hands over his face. "There's more."

"I don't want to hear it," she wept.

"You must."

"No!" She drew herself up to her full height. "I can't. I won't!" She stormed away, the sound of sobs drifting back to him. He followed her, cursing his leg, for even moving as quickly as he could he was no match for her. He called after her as she slammed the door of the shop, and swore under his breath, wrenching open the door to see her running up the street. Gold let himself sag against the wall of the shop, feeling an overwhelming urge to smash something. He had screwed up. He had well and truly screwed up, and they were running out of time.

After he had raged and stormed and broken another cabinet, shards of glass and porcelain tinkling to the floor around him, Gold slumped onto one of the chairs in the back room and put his head in his hands. He hadn't even finished telling her the least important things. She needed to know the rest. She needed to know about them, and he knew he would have to try again, if she would even see him. He left it a couple of hours before leaving the shop and driving to Belle's house, hoping that she would have had time to calm down. When he pulled up outside the house, the curtains were drawn, but he could see faint light coming from the room he knew was Belle's. There were lights downstairs as well. Wavering, and cursing his cowardice, he got out of the car and limped up the path to the door.

Hesitantly, he knocked at the door, hoping that Belle would answer. His mouth flattened in a thin line when Ruby opened it. Any hope that Belle had not told her of their conversation disappeared at her expression. She folded her arms beneath her breasts, scowling at him.

"What the hell do you want?" she demanded, and he made his voice soft.

"May I see Belle?" he asked, and she barked a laugh.

"As she hasn't been able to stop crying long enough to tell me exactly what it was you did, I'm gonna say no!" she snapped. "What the hell did you do? If you hurt her…forced her to do something…"

"That's not true, Ruby, God knows," he said desperately, and she sent him a sneer.

"Well, if He knows, He's saying nothing in your defence," she said tartly, and made a disgusted sound deep in her throat. "God, you men are all the same, you know that? You take a sweet girl like Belle, and you make her fall in love with you, and then what? You tell her you love her, and the next day you go and break her heart. She would have done anything for you, you son of a bitch!" Her fists were on her hips, her eyes flashing. He had never seen her so angry, and tried his best to remain calm in the hope that some of it would transfer onto her.

"I never wanted to hurt her," he said softly. "I wanted to be honest with her, that's all."

Ruby snorted. "Oh yeah? Maybe you should have thought about that months ago before she offered you her heart on a plate," she snapped, and he rolled his eyes in frustration.

"I just need to explain something to her…" he tried, and she huffed, glaring at him, fierce as a she-wolf.

"Well, as soon as she wants to speak to you, you can try. Until then, you can go fuck yourself!" She slammed the door in his face.

Gold growled in frustration, and pounded on the door again.

"If you don't fuck off I'll pour boiling water on you, you asshole!" yelled Ruby, without opening it. He leant his head against the door with a sigh.

"Please tell her that I need to speak with her," he said loudly. Silence. "Ruby?"

"I'm boiling the kettle!" she shouted, and he growled again, slamming his forehead against the door in annoyance. He straightened up with a sigh. There was no way he was getting in to talk to Belle any time soon. Muttering under his breath, he stalked back to the car and drove home, where he knew a bottle of whisky awaited. It was hardly one of his better ideas, but at that moment in time it seemed as good a plan as any.

A/N: Eek! Not good! Sometimes Gold needs a slap (and not a sexy one).

Next time: the girls rally around, and Gold gets an unexpected ally.