Summary: In which Gold snaps, Regina panics and Izzy ponders what home really means.

A/N: Through some sort of absurdly beautiful accident, this fic won Best Fic at The Espenson Awards! I am completely 100% floored as I certainly didn't think it had a fighting chance of winning in that category. Thank you so very much to everyone who nominated and voted for my story and know that you made for one very happy and blessed Raven.

Emma Swan had had her fair share of shit Valentine's Days but this one was steadily climbing the charts.

She'd been cornered by a frantic Mr. Gold, driven out to the town line to find the wreckage of Moe French's van, and now she was spending the evening in the Emergency Room after handcuffing a barely conscious Moe to his hospital bed.

She didn't think the man was going anywhere, but she wasn't taking any chances. He'd kidnapped his daughter, put her in terrible danger, and, as she'd just learned, caused her to a lose a baby Emma hadn't even known about.

So there was at least one person having a worse day than Emma. Her heart truly broke for Izzy Gold.

She'd just stepped out to grab some coffee and was making her way back to Moe's room to see if he was lucid enough for questioning when she heard a familiar voice call her name.

"Sheriff Swan."

"Regina," she said, repressing an eye roll. "I should have known you'd turn up."

"I care about the people of this town, Miss Swan," the mayor returned haughtily. "It's just so tragic. The poor woman was only trying to escape an abusive marriage and now this."

"Yeah," Emma said skeptically. "I'm pretty sure that's not what happened."

Emma didn't trust much about Mr. Gold, but she trusted in his love for his wife. She'd never seen anyone as frantic as he was when he'd shown up at the sheriff's office earlier that night. Beneath the snarling, snapping creature demanding action, had been a man filled with fear. She knew the Gold's had split up after the fire at city hall and they'd both looked equally miserable in the time since.

Gold was a bastard. But he was bastard who loved Izzy.

"Forgive me, Miss Swan," Regina continued. "But I think I know the people of this town a mite better than you do. Mr. French was merely trying to help his daughter get away from a bad situation."

"And from what I know, Moe French has only ever cared about his daughter when it was advantageous to him," Emma countered. "And it seemed like Izzy had left Gold without incident. They've been living apart for weeks. Why would it be an issue now?"

"She's pregnant," Regina said, a vicious grin spreading across her face. "Perhaps Mr. French was afraid Gold would try to take her baby from her."

"Well he did that all by himself," she replied uncharitably. "Izzy lost the baby."

The smile slipped from Regina's face, an emotion crossing her eyes that Emma couldn't quite place.

"That's probably for the best," Regina sniffed, composing herself. "The Gold's were hardly in a place conducive to raising a child."

"Somehow I think they might disagree with you."

Before either of them could say anything more, a strangled scream echoed down the hallway from the direction of Moe French's room.

"What the…" Emma dashed off toward the hospital room at the end of the hall only to be confronted with the sight of Mr. Gold walloping Moe French with the gold handled end of his cane. French's right arm was handcuffed to his hospital bed, his left was raised to shield his head, but wasn't doing much good as Gold rained blow after blow down on the man.

"Stop!" Emma yelled, running up behind Gold and grabbing him by the arm. The man was positively vibrating with fury, and he shook Emma off before striking Moe again.

Emma seized him about the waist, attempting to haul him back, but the slight man was stronger than he looked. He wouldn't budge. She grabbed his arm again, twisting it behind his back though he didn't let go of the cane.

"Mr. Gold," she cried, trying to reason with him. "You have to stop."

"No," Gold growled, struggling against her grip.

"Do you want me to arrest you?"

"He killed my child," Gold yelled back in blind fury, seething over the whimpering Moe French. "He could have killed Belle."

"I know," Emma replied as calmly as possible. "But your wife is lying in a hospital bed right now, hurt and afraid and alone. I don't want to have to be the one to tell her you got yourself thrown in a jail cell for the night."

At her words, the fight seemed to go out of Gold, the cane clattering to the floor, the room silent but for the muffled sniffling of Moe French.

"He killed my child," Gold said again softly, tears springing to his eyes. Emma felt uncomfortable. She'd never seen a show of emotion like this from Gold, of all people. She supposed even he had a breaking point.

"I know," she repeated, letting him go and stepping back. "I'm sorry."

A nurse rushed in behind them followed by Dr. Whale who pushed them aside to assess Moe's new injuries. Gold backed away from the scene, looking lost and somehow very young and very old at the same time.

She knew she should probably arrest him for assault and battery, but couldn't bring herself to haul him away. The last thing Izzy needed was the added stress of an incarcerated husband. Besides, if she could have gotten away with it she'd like to give Moe French a few whacks herself.

She followed a stumbling Gold from the room, leaving the doctors to their work. He locked eyes with Regina as he passed her, an unfathomable expression on his face. Regina's face went white as she stepped back and allowed him to pass.

"Aren't you going to arrest him?" Regina hissed, gesturing at Gold's retreating back. "He just attacked a defenseless man!"

"He's grieving," Emma countered.

"And grief can make people do terrible things," The mayor continued. "Have you forgotten that he almost killed us in a fire a month ago? The man is capable of murder on the best of days."

"Gold's a shady guy," Emma agreed. "But he's not a murderer. He's had a rough night, Regina. Izzy is hurt, they lost a child. People don't always think straight when there's children involved."

Regina narrowed her eyes. "Is this about Henry?"

"What?" Emma asked, confused.

"You're going to counter me on every little thing because I won't let you spend time with my son," the mayor accused. "You're going to let a dangerous man walk the streets because I want him locked up."

There was an edge of panic beneath Regina's polished veneer. There was something she wasn't telling Emma. For some reason, she was afraid of Gold.

"Why are you so concerned about this?" she asked.

Regina took a step back, crossing her arms and trying her best to look composed.

"I'm the mayor of this town, Miss Swan. I only want what is best for the people I serve."

"No," Emma said with a shake of her head. She had a spot on bullshit detector and it was going off like crazy at Regina's obvious lie. "You're afraid of him. Regina, what did you do?"

The mayor glared at her, her right eye twitching slightly.

"Don't be ridiculous," she spat. "But if that man has a psychotic break and burns down the whole town, it's on your head."

With that, Regina turned and headed back down the hallway, her black pumps clacking against the linoleum floor.

"What the hell?" Emma muttered to herself. It was days like this she was almost tempted to believe Henry's fairy tale theory. But if that were true, who on earth could frighten the Evil Queen?

Belle was still, blessedly, asleep when Gold made his way back to her room. Now that the adrenaline that had been keeping him going all night had finally been leeched from his system he felt faint and old and frail. His ankle throbbed as he sat down hard in the chair next to Belle's bed, letting out a hiss of pain. It was nothing more than he deserved.

He'd lost another child. And once again it was all his fault.

He hadn't had much hope of Belle forgiving him once the curse was broken and her memories returned. Now she would wake up to find that not only had he defiled her and gotten her pregnant, but that he'd caused her to lose her baby.

He supposed he should feel some amount of guilt for taking out his frustrations on Sir Maurice. The man was an idiot who'd been manipulated by the Queen, but he was cursed. He hadn't been acting in his right mind. Rumplestiltskin had spent years blaming the former knight for Belle's death only for it to be a lie. Now he'd been the cause of the death of his child. He knew the man was a puppet for Regina, that it wasn't his fault. But he felt no sympathy. He could burn, they could all burn. All that mattered was Belle. He needed to keep her safe. He needed to make the Savior believe. Once Belle had her memories back, he could leave and find his son. Until then, all his efforts were trained on her.

He supposed he'd managed to overestimate the power of their true love. Despite admitting how much he loved her, Belle had not woken up. There was a real possibility that her feelings for him had changed, that Izzy's feelings weren't true. Just because Belle had loved him once didn't mean she'd ever feel that way again. He had rejected her love twice now. It was silly to think that it could survive, that she would still want him.

Regina's fear of him would make her do irrational things. Belle was a weakness she would try to exploit. The only way to protect her now was to focus on breaking the curse. He had to make Emma believe.

"I'm so sorry, Belle," he whispered, the tears making his voice harsh and ragged. He pressed his forehead against the side of her bed and cried himself to sleep.

When Izzy awoke the next morning, she had a moment of ignorant bliss before the events of the previous day came rushing back. Her father had kidnapped her. There had been an accident. She'd lost the baby.

It felt as though her heart were breaking all over again.

There was something heavy pressing in to her hip and she glanced down to see Andrew slumped against her, his head resting against her side. One of his hands was entwined with hers.

So it hadn't all been a dream. He'd told her he loved her. They were words Izzy had longed to hear for so long, but now they just made her sad. If he'd been honest with her, maybe none of this would have happened. They'd be celebrating the new life they were bringing into the world instead of mourning its loss.

Andrew was snoring lightly, his neck bent at an awkward angle to rest on the bed. He couldn't be comfortable. She remembered falling asleep with him beside her the night before. She wondered why he'd moved to the chair.

She reached out the hand that wasn't clutched in Andrew's and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Andrew," she said, nudging him with her hip.

He sat up suddenly, wincing as he rubbed at the back of his neck. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair limp around his face. He looked as bad as she felt.

"Sweetheart," he said in the achingly sweet voice he reserved just for her. She'd missed it these long weeks without him. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she lied. "I want to go home."

Her husband nodded, looking around the room blearily for a moment.

"I'll go find the doctor," he said finally, standing up with some trouble and limping out of the room. Sleeping sitting up in a chair all night couldn't have been good on his ankle.

A few minutes later, Andrew returned, followed by Dr. Whale and Emma Swan.

Dr. Whale wanted to do another exam before he released her from the hospital and Emma had come to question her about the accident. Izzy didn't much feel up for either task, but she knew she had to comply if she was ever going to get out of her hospital bed.

She nodded at Emma first who came to sit in the chair her husband had spent the night in. She asked her a series of questions that Izzy answered to the best of her ability. In truth she didn't remember much between her father's visit that morning and the crash. She knew he'd drugged her and the next thing she knew she was in his van, headed out of town. It was horrible to be missing hours of her life like that.

The tears stung Izzy's eyes as she thought about what her father was able to do to her. She knew he thought he was doing what was best. She knew that he thought he loved her. But Moe French's idea of love was a skewed thing at best.

Andrew sat beside her on the bed as she answered the sheriff's questions, squeezing her hand reassuringly. She was glad he was there, in spite of everything. Perhaps something good could come from this tragedy. Perhaps they could finally learn to be together. She hoped it wasn't too late.

By the time Emma had finished her questioning, Ruby had arrived with a small duffel bag filled with clothes and toiletries from her apartment. The skirt she'd worn the day before was ruined; soaked with her blood, her child's blood. She told Andrew to get rid of it knowing if she saw the accursed garment, she'd break again.

"Oh, honey," Ruby exclaimed sadly before wrapping her up in a hug. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Izzy shrugged. "I wasn't sure what to say. I was scared and I didn't know what to do."

Ruby hugged her again. "You can always come to me for help, Iz."

Izzy just nodded, leaning her head against Ruby's shoulder and letting herself be comforted.

"Do you need a place to stay?" Ruby asked suddenly. "I mean you shouldn't be by yourself. You can stay at the Inn with me and Granny."

It was something Izzy hadn't given a thought to. Where would she go now? Andrew loved her, but they weren't back together. He'd hurt her, broken her heart. It had taken tragedy to get him to confess his true feelings. She wasn't sure where they stood.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

"No pressure," Ruby assured her. "I just want to make sure someone's taking care of you."

Ruby scooted on to the bed, regaling Izzy with all the gossip from the bar the night before – apparently Sean had proposed to Ashley and Mary Margaret had been acting weird all night – before Andrew returned with Dr. Whale. After a quick exam, he told her she was free to be released from the hospital.

"You'll probably have some bleeding for a few days," Dr. Whale explained. "If it lasts longer than a week, I want you to come back for another check up. In the meantime, take it easy and get some rest."

Izzy nodded as Dr. Whale glanced over his shoulder at Andrew and then back to her.

"I…don't know what your situation is at the present," he continued, "but this can be a difficult time emotionally for couples. If you need to talk to someone, I can give you a referral."

"No," Izzy replied, a bit to quickly. "I'm fine, really. I just want to go home."

"Great," Dr. Whale said with a quick nod. "Let's get your release papers."

Andrew disappeared again to sign Izzy out leaving her alone to change, and it was only a matter of moments before she'd been bundled up and was sitting in the front seat of his Cadillac.

"Where to?" he asked, not quite meeting her eyes.

Izzy shrugged, her feelings still conflicted. She didn't feel like herself. She felt sad and used and broken. She didn't want to go back to her empty apartment to cry alone on her sofa, but she wasn't sure she wanted to go back to the house either. There were memories there. Memories she didn't quite feel like focusing on.

"I don't know what your preference is, sweetheart," Andrew said tentatively. "But I'd like you to move back home. Please know that I don't expect anything, but I don't think you should be alone right now. Please let me take care of you."

She glanced up at him, finally meeting his eyes. Seeing her own pain reflected back at her was too much and her eyes dropped back down to her lap.

"Is this because you feel guilty?" she asked in a small voice.

"I can't deny that I feel responsible for what happened to you," he admitted. "But regardless of that I would want you to come home. I love you, Belle. And I denied you that for so long. I do want to make things up to you."

"And perhaps you can understand that I have trouble trusting that," she returned, hating the way her voice wavered. "I've wanted nothing from you but your love for three long years and you've only given it begrudgingly. I don't blame you for what happened. I blame my father for that and myself for not being honest with you. But if we're going to live together, if we're going to continue to be married, I have to be able to trust you. You lied to me about the sheriff's election. You lied to me about Ashley. You lied to me about your own feelings."

Her voice tapered off, her chest constricting at the rush of emotion that accompanied her words. Couldn't he see how badly he'd hurt her? It wasn't just about the baby. It was so much more than that.

"I know," he said, looking down at the steering wheel with tears in his eyes. "I don't expect you to forgive me for that. I don't expect you to want to stay married to me. I only want to protect you."

"There's that word again," she replied with a tired little laugh. "You, my father, everyone wants to protect me and it always just makes things worse."

He had no answer for that it seemed. She knew it was unkind to compare him to her father, but he didn't refute the sentiment. It struck Izzy that as angry as she was with him, Andrew would always be his own harshest critic. He thought he deserved the world's censure. He absolutely believed that her miscarriage was his fault. He was hurting as much as she was.

And despite everything, she loved him. They loved each other. Wasn't that the most important thing?

For a moment she had a flicker of an image of something else. A man who resembled Andrew but for wavy hair and strange skin. A smell of leather and earth, the crackling of electricity. She shook her head, dispelling the hallucination. Perhaps they'd given her something strange at the hospital or perhaps she was just tired. The image unnerved her all the same.

"Take me home," she said finally. "Our home."

Andrew looked up at her with an expression that was so hopeful and so guarded it made her heart want to break.

"Alright," he said, gripping her hand tightly before starting the car. And then he drove home, or the closest thing Izzy could imagine to one.