Belle held Gold close, carding her fingers through his hair. He was leaning forward against her, pillowing his head on her chest, cheek to breast.

He had confessed his story to her, the story of loss that had slashed misery across his life. Decades ago, before Belle had even set foot in Storybrooke, there had been a fire where a man, once so happy and proud, had been robbed of everything.

He had had a wife, Milah.

They had had a son, Baelfire.

A unique name, one that Belle had never heard before. Asking after it he told her it was an old Celtic name. They had called him Bae for short.

Bae.

Before Anything Else - there was Bae.

His lost boy.

"It was a fire."

A fire.

A horrible flash fire at the motel where the family had been staying as the house was undergoing interior work. Gold and Milah had woken to flames and the screams of their terrified child. They had rushed out to find Bae, but Gold hadn't been able to reach him. Here is where his story lost focus. Something, some burning debris had fallen on him, pinning his body and knocking him unconscious.

The man had woken from emergency surgery days later to scars, a limp and a black hole in the world where his family had lived.

"It was my fault."

Belle held him tighter, stricken by the raw, bleeding fury in that statement. Tears coursed down her cheeks, all her sorrow for him and how he'd suffered through these lonely years.

He had been the one to surprise Milah with the work for their house, it'd been his idea to pack the family off to the motel for the weekend, dressing the whole thing up as a little adventure out of town. But then, everything had been ruined. The fire. The screams. The panic.

He had been too slow, too small, too weak to save his son and-

Here, Belle stopped him.

Gold had been kneeling before her, confessing his shame through a well of tears. She hugged him close, letting him cry into her shoulder. Her friend. Such pain, such suffering. How unfair and sad it was, that he had carried this secret for so long, not trusting himself or anyone else with it. It terrified and ravaged him to face this - Belle could see it, the years of nightmares and pure loathing he'd lived through, chaining himself to a house of memory, a town he hated and was forcing himself to call home until the end of his days. He blamed himself for everything he lost and had been inflicting punishment on himself every day since.

Belle had not expected this. A loss that cut him so deep, a tragedy kept secret for decades. As his story unraveled, it was all so much bigger than she'd thought it would be. The woman cooed to him, and reached to stroke his back in a show of comfort, but Gold scrambled away.

"Belle, don't - oh, God, I'm sorry."

She shook her head. She understood now. She had felt enough to know.

Belle crawled to him on her hands and knees, to where he had backed up to her book case. Had this been any other night, she would have been happy to embrace this fantasy: Mr. Gold undressed for her and surrounded by her favorite novels. Now, her thoughts ran toward comfort rather than lust.

"Hey, it's all right."

"I thought I would be strong enough to face this by now." Gold sniffed, his sobs having ebbed away. He felt a great weight was lifted from him; he felt worlds more relieved for having told Belle. She deserved the truth and he trusted her with it. Still. She would never see him in the same way again after this. Perhaps that was for the best. A man could only hide behind a mask for so long.

Belle sat on the floor before him and rested her elbows on her tented knees. The lighting in her room was dim, but she could see the burn scars that extended up past his forearm, over his shoulder. He was facing her to hide his back but Belle could well imagine the scars there. She'd felt them.

Her poor friend. All he'd suffered and lost.

"I'm a weak-"

"No, no. There's no time when you would be able to face this without feeling something. I could never love you if you did."

Gold massaged his temples. "God. Twenty years." He gave a harsh bark of a laugh. "He'd be about your age."

Belle reached to take his hand. "Tell me about him?"

Gold took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. "Belle, if I start to speak of him again...please, I'm so tired."

She nodded and moved to stand up. "I understand. It's been enough for tonight." She found his cane and gave it to him, helping him to stand. "I know how hard this has all been for you. I do. Thank you for telling me."

Gold cleared his throat. He felt so raw, like an exposed nerve. He felt broken and restitched together and turned inside out, all thanks to her. And embarrassed, if he was honest. He had wanted to tell his truth to Belle in his own way, not break down and sob all over her in his underwear.

"I pictured this going so differently."

Belle shook her head and cupped his face, kissing him. He had lamented this before. "I know you did. If I had the power, I would go back and change everything for you. Everything."

"Mmmm."

"There is something you could do for me, you know."

"What's that?"

"Tell me about this." Belle said, and here she began to trace over his tattoo with one of her golden nails. "You always told me wonderful stories when I would visit you at the shop."

"Did I, now?"

"Yes, always." Belle smiled at him, hoping he would smile too. If he could smile, then she knew he'd be all right. He wouldn't be lost in despair, he'd recover from tonight and be able to start anew with her. Belle wanted that more than anything. "Now, I've got to know how the always formal and put-together Mr. Gold ended up with some ink."

Gold scoffed at that, but he didn't smile. Not yet. "You make me sound so uptight."

"Well, you do wear a suit everywhere you go."

"Not to bed. Usually."

Playfully, Belle swatted his arm, right on the tattoo. "Oh, please! You wear cufflinks on your pajamas."

Still, no smile. Just a quirk of his lips in a show of amusement. "Only when I take very official naps, Miss French."

"Oh, don't start that again. Come on, give a girl some gossip. I'd love to go around Storybrooke tomorrow, being the only one to know why you have a lizard on your arm."

Gold straightened his posture and planted both hands on the handle of his cane, trying to appear distinguished and failing spectacularly as the man was still clad only in his boxer briefs. "It's actually a gecko." He sniffed.

Belled smiled and kissed him again. She was still hosting him in her home. More had to be done to comfort him, her most beloved guest. "Can we try something to fix tonight?"

"What?"

She began counting off on her fingers. "Well, the dinner I made was a disaster, I'm allergic to that chocolate you brought, my television is shot and we've cried together all night."

"Not the dinner date you had in mind." Gold agreed. When she listed everything out like that, this night was well and truly wrecked. "What do you suggest?"

"A bath." Gold frowned but Belle pressed on before he could outright refuse her. "We can finish off the wine, light some candles. I've wanted this for so long. Please. I think it'll be...romantic." She batted her lashes at him.

Gold rolled his eyes at her. "Fine."

Belle frowned. "Hey, it's a bath, not a root canal!"

"I don't want you to see-"

"Stop. You can't keep trying to hide from me." Belle took his hands. "I want to see, because I want you. Do you honestly think I would reject you for your scars?"

"No. No, I know you won't. I just...it's been so long since anyone has seen them." Gold admitted. As most of his scarring was over his back, it was too easy to hide them from himself. He had become comfortable doing that for years.

"This is a night of exposure. You've told me so much." Belle took his face in her hands and kissed his lips. "Now it's time to show me."

Belle lead him into the bathroom, a small, simple space of white tiles, a sink, a toilet, and the surprise of a large tub. He watched from the doorway as she lit a few candles and began to fill the tub with steaming water. She dribbled bath oil into the water and cracked open the window for a breeze of fresh air, though she was careful to keep the blinds down.

Once the water was deep enough, the woman turned to him and removed her bra, freeing her breasts. Gold struggled to keep his face impassive, restrain the urge to go to her right then and there. Her breasts tempted him, and Belle knew it. She said nothing, but winked at him as she slipped the matching lavender lace from her hips and stood before him, fully naked.

Belle crooked her finger at him, her smile pure evil, and in that moment Gold would have chased her to hell and back.

He took a step into the bathroom as Belle eased herself into the water. She hissed pleasantly as the heat took her, his little sea nymph. Gold came to stand before her at the edge of the tub. He only had to slip off his underwear before joining her, and Belle hadn't taken her eyes off him for even a moment. Though they had made love over their ill-fated weekend away from Storybrooke, Belle had yet to fully see her lover. She had no complaint over his prowess, but she was curious.

Gold, however, was shy. He gestured for her to turn away. "I've stripped for you enough tonight. Look away."

"No!"

"Yes! Turn around so I can get in behind you."

"If you get in behind me then I won't be able to see-"

"I would prefer it that way."

"Now you're just being stubborn." Belle huffed and gestured to her nude self. "You've seen all of me."

"You're prettier than I am."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Gold. Get in the tub."

Gold scowled at her. He was unused to being given orders, so he returned her command with one of his own. "Turn away."

"All right, fine."

As soon as Belle turned away, playing fair by obeying him and even closing her eyes to boot, Gold removed his underwear and eased himself into the water, facing her from the opposite side. Belle opened her eyes and looked at him as discreetly as she could. She was not disappointed.

"See something you like?"

She blushed furiously at his question. "No! I mean... I wasn't..."

Here, Gold actually gave her a real smile. "Calm down, Belle. I was only joking."

Belle covered her face with a wet hand. He had done it again, twisting her own intentions against her. She wondered if he pulled this trick with everyone in town. If he did, then it was no wonder why he was so hated. "I hadn't planned on dying of embarrassment tonight, but this evening hasn't been going as planned at all."

Gold didn't say anything to that, instead he spread his arms to rest over the tub rim and relaxed in the hot water. Belle wanted to relax, but lounging in the tub, opposite each other with only their feet touching, wasn't the romantic scene she'd intended. Carefully, she maneuvered herself in between his back and the edge of the tub, positioning him to lean back against her.

She wanted to wash his hair and message his temples and neck, but the man wasn't having it.

Gold frowned. "Belle, it feels strange like this."

"What, the water?"

"No. I like to be the big spoon."

That much was true. Gold wasn't a large man, so he'd happily enjoyed Belle's petite size whenever they'd embraced or lain together in bed.

"Be a little adventurous for once." Belle urged him.

Gold shook his head. "Switch."

Belle huffed and shifted around him, muttering, "You're driving me crazy." under her breath.

"Not yet." Gold promised. To ease her mood, he reached forward and drew her to lean back against him, reversing their positions.

Much better.

Belle wouldn't admit it, but she was more comfortable this way as well.

As tiny as she was, it was easy for Gold to look over her and see the length of her nudity before him. For a moment, he envied Belle; the natural comfort she had with her own body. Not once had she stopped him to turn off the lights or given any of that 'Do you think I look fat?' nonsense. No, Belle was her own woman and she owned every inch of herself.

Such freedom.

Before the fire, Gold had been a confident man. He had never dreamed of a time when he would depend on a cane just to cross a room or even hesitate in taking off his shirt. When he was alone, the scars didn't bother him. He could almost forget. It was when the women asked to see and then asked how...

Cora had wanted to know everything. He hadn't been ready to face the past, or her. They had agreed to break from each other for that very reason. The women who came after Cora had all been such brief couplings that his proclivity to keep covered in bed had never come up. Zelena had asked him one night, and thankfully she'd been satisfied with his vague answer of not wanting to show her some surgical scars. She had said she understood. Something about understanding the need to put on your best face.

But Belle.

She coaxed without pushing. Usually. She'd given him the push when he needed it and demanded nothing more. Probably for the best. Gold was done for the night. He would tell her the rest in time. For now, he would hold on to his other secrets. They could wait for another night.

He shifted Belle against him and rested his hands over her belly, drumming her skin lightly under the water. He rested his chin on the crown of her head, content here in the hot bath and the glow of her vanilla candles. For awhile, they just rested together, quiet and content, but Gold was only a man - it was beyond him to keep all self-control when he had the woman he loved naked in his arms.

Gold moved his hands, dragging his nails lightly over her skin, rising to cup her breasts. Belle took in a breath. Gooseflesh shivered over her skin. He could feel her breasts come awake, pebbling against his palms.

He bent his head to drop a kiss on her shoulder, then lightly bit her, only just grazing her with his teeth. Her hands, which had been drifting in the water, clenched on his thighs, just over his knees.

"You don't have to."

Her words surprised him. "You don't want this?"

"I just...tonight wasn't for me."

The man had been forced to relive the hell of that fire; she should be tending to his needs now, not the other way around.

"Mmm." Gold kissed her shoulder again. "Let me make tonight about you."

Belle laughed, and he was so glad her laughter was genuine. He hadn't truly laughed since their time together in New York. God, everything had been so simple and bright before Storybrooke had intruded. Oh, he wanted to go back to that time.

She rested her hands over his, still cupping her breasts. "Are you sure?"

"No man could say no, Belle." She could feel his arousal against her back. He hooked one of his ankles between her calves, drawing them apart. "Tonight has been too much about me. You've worked so hard for tonight. Please, let me..."

Belle sighed and let her eyes slip closed, recalling the times when this had all been a fantasy, the fevered dream of Mr. Gold with her in the bath.

Gold felt her relax further against him, her silent permission, and so he began.

His hands began to move over her breasts, kneading the plump flesh and plucking at their flushed tips. He had ever been a man who adored the bodies of women, and if every man had a type, then Gold would admit he favored fair-skinned brunettes above all others. His first had been Milah. Years after her was Cora. Now Belle.

Belle, with her creamy skin and her dark auburn hair and those bright eyes that haunted him.

He kissed at her throat and tugged on her earlobe, giving her the slightest edge of pain she craved. She sucked in a quick breath and didn't fully stifle her moan. Good. He didn't want her quiet, now. Tonight he would hear her pleasure.

Gold moved a hand, brushing down her side, relishing the shivers that raced over Belle with his light touch. He murmured to her how beautiful she was, how he wanted her. In response, Belle turned her head to kiss him, her sweet sipping kisses of devotion. She told him what she wanted, what she'd dreamed of him doing to her while she'd bathed here alone.

His fingertips danced down the length of her body and then between her legs. Belle moaned and shivered, her breasts tightening even further for him. She parted her legs wantonly, opening herself to his touch.

"You want this, Belle?"

"Yes, yes, please."

Her begging was arousing in and of itself, and Gold swelled with satisfaction. He had tamed the woman as surely as she had tamed him. Belle writhed against his hand, undulating her hips to match his rhythm. It wouldn't be long, now. Belle's breaths were short and pleading, her legs shaking between his own with her feet braced on the opposite side of the tub wall.

He stroked her petals, then pinched her pearl and the tip of her breast, the surprise of pain enough to shock her into a heated climax. Belle panted hard as she came down from the rush. Her body shuddered against his, the proof of her pleasure. Gold held her, letting her breathe and recover. He was pleased, but when he shifted his weight he hissed in pain. He'd been in this position too long and his leg was aching. He nipped her earlobe, keeping his voice low. "Belle, we need to get out of the bath."

His woman rolled in the water to face him, her skin flushed. She cupped his face and kissed him, the climax still rushing through her blood, feeding her hunger rather than having sated it. "Stay with me tonight."

"Stay?"

Belle surged forward to straddle him, sloshing water over the edge of the tub. In a swift movement, she'd tucked her legs on either side of his hips, her sex pressing tight over him. She rocked her hips, dragging the length of him back and forth between her legs.

"Yes. Stay with me tonight. Please, say yes."

Gold gasped, less from the arousal of being mounted and more from the pain that flashed in his injured leg. "Ah, Belle, get off."

"I just did, it's your turn now."

"No, I mean, get off." Gold said, and he clasped her by the hips, lifting her from his lap and bending his leg to relieve the painful pressure.

Water splashed across the floor, soaking the mat. Belle furrowed her brow with worry and reached to the faucet to start the water draining. Gold was massaging his leg over the scars, his eyes stressed. "Belle, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it's just, my leg, it was-"

"No, no." Belle dismissed his concerns, "You didn't hurt me. Please, tell me. Did I hurt you? Can I get you anything? Do you need medicine?"

"It wasn't you, not really. Just being in one position for too long, it kills me."

Belle quirked her lips at him. "This has been a rough night for you."

"I've had worse nights than this."

"I'm sure you have." Belle glanced away from him, to the water that was quickly draining away.

She moved out of the tub and slipped into the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, then brought out two large towels from the cabinet below the sink. One she laid down on the floor to absorb the water, the other was for him.

Slowly, for his leg, Gold stood from the tub and was grateful when Belle cradled his elbow to help him keep his balance. He wasn't sure his ego could take a naked slip in her bathroom.

He reached for the towel and made quick work of patting his chest and arms dry, then securing it about his waist.

"Oh, look at you."

Gold glanced to her over his shoulder, forcing himself to remain still under her scrutiny. He took a deep breath.

"I would have told you about my family, but I never wanted you to see my scars." He said quietly.

Belle stepped closer to touch him, thankful that he didn't pull away now. She splayed her hand over the left side of his back, tracing over the puckered skin with her fingertips, the uneven texture. Such a striking contrast to his right side, which was largely unaffected. She remembered what he'd told her, his last memories in the fire being of heavy burning debris falling on him, crushing his leg on one side, burning him terribly on the other.

Belle looked at him plainly, taking in the sight of his naked backside. The scars on his back reached over his shoulder and down his arm. She could even see that the scarring crept up the left side of the nape of his neck. Ah. No wonder he'd grown his hair long. His hair and his suits - the armor against revealing his secret scars to the world.

Belle embraced him from behind, hugging him tight and pressing her cheek to his scarred shoulder. "Remember New York? No secrets. You promised."

Gold put a hand over hers, where she'd crossed them on his chest. "I know."

"Come on." Belle came around to face him. "It's been a long night and you're so tired. I can see it. Let's go to bed."

"I never could say no to a lady."

Belle giggled at him. "And now's not the time to start."

She moved ahead of him into her room and turned down the covers, tossing her robe to the side and sliding into bed naked. She patted the open side of the bed in silent invitation. It would be the first time they'd slept together since New York. Gold nodded to her, leaving his towel in the bathroom and joining her under the covers. He settled in, resting on his back as was most comfortable for his leg, and drew Belle in to rest her head on his shoulder. They sighed lightly, and he drew idle circles over her skin with his fingertips.

Eventually they drifted, changing positions, their breath evening as their bodies gave in to the emotional exhaustion brought on by the past week's stresses. Gold couldn't sleep yet, his mind was still a swirl of tragic memory and the immense relief for having shared it. Belle had held him as he'd cried for what had been lost, she'd caressed the scars left in the wake of that fiery night. She loved him and dear God, did he love her.

"Are you still awake?"

Gold blinked. He thought Belle had been asleep. "Yes. I thought I'd be out as soon as my head hit the pillow but I can't sleep."

She rolled over to face him, nevermind that her room was pitch black. All she could see was a vague shape in the dark. "You went through a lot tonight. Thank you for telling me about your family."

"Thank you for listening. I think I needed that more than anything. That and a kick to get me talking." Gold found her hand somewhere under the covers and brought it to his lips.

"I saw you were in pain. I couldn't let it go on. Getting you to talk was the only way to make it stop."

"Thank you, Belle. Thank you." Gold pulled her in closer and kissed the crown of her head. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Belle kissed his cheek in the dark.

She was so brave, but her next words were hesitant, as if she had something to fear from him. "Go to sleep. There's a lot we need to talk about in the morning."