A/N: I promise not to prolong the agony in this story for too long. If it helps you at all, we are headed quite quickly towards a happy ending ;)

(For disclaimer, etc. - see chapter 1)

Chapter 37

It was a strange sensation to wake to a world and know nothing about it. They said her name was Isabelle, and so that was what she called herself, and yet the name was as unfamiliar as anything else. Her own reflection came as a surprise, as did all the faces around her. There was a man that said he was her husband, and that was especially frightening to Isabelle. To forget oneself and the one you loved enough to marry was terrifying to her, confusing and ridiculous too.

Her memory was entirely gone, at least with regards to facts about herself and her life. No names or faces came to mind with any clarity at all, no events, be they from her childhood or yesterday. Isabelle remembered how to do things, how to feed herself, use the bathroom, walk around, but she had no clue how she liked to dress, what she wanted to eat, when she last took a bath. There was a thick fog over everything but the most basic functions, and Isabelle had never been so scared in her whole life. At least, she supposed she hadn't, she had no memories to work from.

Dr Whale seemed nice enough. He explained that there had been an accident and she had bumped her head. He refused to tell her any more since they seemed to think she ought to try and recall it all for herself. Isabelle wondered how she was ever supposed to do that, but arguing the point seemed futile.

"Will it come back?" she asked desperately. "My memories, will they ever come back to me?"

"It's hard to say for sure", the doctor explained as gently as he could. "Head trauma is a tricky area. Until you woke up, we couldn't know what damage you might have suffered. Now at least our tests are showing that there's no lasting physical damage, but memories are a whole other ballgame, I'm afraid," he told her. "There's a chance you could just wake up tomorrow and all your memories will have been restored. On the other hand, and I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but there's a chance you may never get any of your past back."

Isabelle wasn't sure what worried her more right now, never having back what had to be a collection of precious memories, or getting them back all at once and being overwhelmed by things that could not hurt her for as long as they were absent from her mind. It was the oddest situation to be in and Isabelle really wasn't sure how she felt about it.

There was a Robert Gold hanging around saying he was her husband. He seemed like a nice man, gentlemanly and kind, and Isabelle was sure he only wanted the best for her. He hadn't said much yet, but she supposed she could understand that. After she calmed down from the initial shock of being without her memories, they had a brief conversation in which he introduced himself as the man she had married and promised he would get her anything she needed or wanted to make herself better again. She thanked him genuinely, but felt entirely awkward. Here was a man completely in love with her, and she was a woman with no memory him. He was perhaps the only person in this situation more hurt than she was. She did not really know what she had lost, but Robert did.

Isabelle looked down at her hands then and frowned. No wedding band. Not everybody wore one, so it wasn't all that suspicious, but it did seem strange. Married people usually wore rings to signify as such, particularly women. Reaching for the record hanging on the end of her bed, she read the name at the top - Isabelle Hart. Perhaps she kept her maiden name, some women did. She had so many questions to ask and nobody to give her any answers. Her initial conversation with Mr Gold had been cut short because the doctor needed to come and speak with her again, the doctor who would tell her no details of the accident that landed her here or anything he might know about her life. He had probably sworn Gold to secrecy too, but Isabelle was fairly certain she must have some powers of persuasion, especially with a husband who loved her so dearly. Just as soon as he came back, she would have to see what she could glean from him. So far all she had was a name, a marital status, and the assurance there were no children she had tragically forgotten. It was not much to go on, Isabelle thought, not enough in any way at all, but there was nothing she could do until Mr Gold returned. She hoped the wait would not be long.

Neal Cassidy wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at the hospital. His father had called him after the supposed accident that had left Belle unconscious, and made little sense in explaining everything. He hadn't been too impressed to be getting a call so fast since they agreed to take things slow in their reconnecting process. When Neal realised how serious things were, he didn't mind so much that he had been contacted. His Papa sure did sound as if he were very upset and it only proved how much he must love Belle, as much as she loved him by all accounts. There was no way for Neal to know all the ins and outs of what had gone on between them. Asking was met with evasive and awkward answers, and so he only concentrated on the state of health both Belle and his father were in.

Neal knew enough to know that the longer a person remained unconscious, the worse matters were. He offered to come sit with his father when time dragged on, but Robert insisted he could cope. He didn't sound all that convincing, but he kept on saying it all the same. He felt terrible. After all these years apart, Baelfire had finally decided that reuniting with his Papa was a good idea, and the very woman to convince him was now lying in a hospital bed. There was hope for her to live but equally as much chance that she could die, he supposed. It hurt to think about it, to imagine his father sat wondering and waiting, and all alone. It hadn't taken long for Bae to realise he had somewhere more important to be than his home in Manhattan. He got a last minute deal on the next plane out and now, here he was.

There were already four missed calls on his cell where his father had tried to call and the phone was switched off during travel. Now there was no need to call back, because he was here.

"Papa?" he said as he entered the waiting area and found him sat on an uncomfortably solid chair with his face in his hands.

"Bae?" he reacted with shock at the sight of him, but genuine relief too as he got up onto unsteady feet and gratefully accepted a hug from his boy. "Oh, son. I'm so glad to have you here."

"I thought you'd need somebody right now," said Neal as they parted. "How's Belle?"

A darkness passed over Robert's face like a shadow that Bae couldn't understand at all. He feared the worst, and yet he couldn't imagine his father would still be sat here like this if that had happened.

"She is hardly Belle at all," he started to explain, dropping back down into his seat as if his legs just wouldn't hold him anymore - perhaps they couldn't. "She has awoken, but her memories are gone."

Neal wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to that. He felt sorry for Belle, and for his Papa too, but no amount of sympathy was going to cure the problem. Head injuries led to all kinds of consequences, and amnesia could be one of the most cruel in its way. It wasn't going to kill a person or give them physical pain, but the emotional scarring, the agony for family and friends that were no longer recognised by one they loved so much. It was so very clear how deeply wounded Robert had been when he looked into Belle's eyes and saw not one spark of recognition. Neal could not begin to imagine how much that had to hurt after everything.

"I'm sorry," he said, even though he knew it was pointless. "But don't they have any idea if she'll get her memory back?" he checked as he took the seat beside his father. "Maybe if she sees enough familiar things or people..."

"There is no-one," Robert ground out, as angry as he was upset by all of this, and his son did not doubt it for a moment. "All her friends and associates," he explained in low voice, "They are grifters and thieves. Once their work was done they disappeared. Belle would know how to get a hold of them in an emergency, but I am at a loss, Bae," he explained desperately. "Even Ruby who worked for me pulled a disappearing act on short notice, and I let her, never knowing all this would occur! I don't even know if Belle has real family, blood relations," he went on, slamming his hands frustratedly against the arm rests of his chair. "I have no way of knowing what facts she told me were true and which were lies!"

Neal winced at the clatter of his father's cane against the floor as it became dislodged from between the chair and the wall. There was just nothing to say for the best here, no good and helpful suggestions to be made. Belle had to have family somewhere, be it parents, siblings, or similar. Even Baelfire Gold had a father, though Neal Cassidy technically didn't. He winced as he realised that they were never going to get anywhere in tracking down relations of Belle's if they didn't know her real name, and given her apparent role in life, he highly doubted it was Belle.

"What name did you give the doctors?" he checked with a frown, realising she had to be living under something whilst she was here.

"Isabelle Hart," Gold explained. "That's what she was calling herself when we met, it must be a water-tight identity, though I did add a twist in telling them I was her husband."

"You had to," Baelfire nodded. "They never would've told you anything if you were just a friend."

The phrase was so inadequate, and the truth too painful to bear. A hollow laugh escaped Gold's lips as he thought on it a moment. He was not Belle's husband and probably never would be. They were not lovers, though they had come close once. She was his employee before now, and his friend, most definitely. Now she was his world, whilst he was one of so many unknowns orbiting around a woman that remembered nothing of anyone, not even herself.

"I can't face her, Bae," he said then, tears coming back to his eyes and a shake to his voice that didn't belong somehow. "I don't know where to begin," he shrugged, turning desperate eyes on his son.

"You start with how much you love her," he said sagely, tipping off Robert to the fact that Baelfire had been in love at least once in is young life, though that was a talking point for later, not now. "And then memories you shared? Anything that might trigger something in her head..."

"Most of her own memories that she told to me were probably fiction!" he exclaimed in frustration, moderating his tone the moment he realised people could hear. "I could make her worse if I confuse her with her own lies, and what memories can I remind her of that are true? We shared so little, and yet so much..."

He didn't know how to explain it, and yet Neal understood all too well. There had been a woman in his life once, the only one he would admit to truly being in love with. Their time together had been far too short, and mostly because of his own stupidity. Yet, they had meant so much to each other, become so close so fast. It could happen, and more often than some people thought was possible.

"I don't know what to do, Bae," said Robert then, openly crying as he all but fell into his son's arms.

Neal held him tight and tried to be of some comfort. It hurt to see his father suffer like this, to wonder how often he might have broken down in such a way over his long lost Baelfire. All those years, Neal had believed that his Papa was incapable of fully loving anyone after Milah left and later died. Now it was clear to him that he genuinely did have the capacity love, and to do so deeply. His heart could not be as broken as this if it were not true. He only wished there was some way to help him and Belle right now. As far as Baelfire could tell, there just wasn't anything he could do except hold his father in his arms and assure him he would be here for him just as long as he needed.

To Be Continued...