A/N: Some dialogue taken from S3E22: There's No Place like Home.

Chapter 46

"So, uh," Belle was smiling a bit as she sat down beside him, "I guess the protection spells on your house apply to your garage, too? I mean… your car…"

Rumple shook his head. "It's not in there," he said. "It's a wonder it's not still at Boston Airport; it wasn't easy arranging for a towing company to transport it to the town line when, to all appearances, they were abandoning the vehicle in the middle of nowhere. However, once I found a firm willing to comply with my instructions, it was a simple matter for me to step over the line to retrieve it."

Belle nodded. "So, where is it, then?"

Rumple sighed. "I believe it's back at the farmhouse behind the barn. Zelena occasionally had reason for me to make use of it." He winced. "I can't say for certain where the keys might be, though. Perhaps, at the farmhouse. Or," he gave her a pained smile, "she might have been carrying them when we stepped through the time portal. At this point, I really couldn't say."

"And a locator spell wouldn't…?"

"When sprinkled on an object, that object would lead you to its owner. It won't lead the owner to their object, I'm afraid."

Belle sighed. Then she smiled brightly. "All right, then. I suppose we'll need to go with Plan B. When you're discharged tomorrow, Bashful will come 'round to drive you—or rather us, since I'll be here too—home. Once you're settled in, there'll be plenty of time to look for those car keys. Or create others."

He could have used magic to teleport home, of course, but all magic did come with a price. More to the point, Belle looked so pleased with herself for having resolved the difficulty that Rumple wasn't about to tell her that there was no need. "It sounds as though you've come up with an acceptable solution," he remarked, and his faint answering smile was rewarded by a warm laugh and a warmer hug.

"You're sure you don't want to have the reception here?" Granny asked. "I understand about having the ceremony at the well, but afterwards…?"

Belle shook her head. "There won't be a reception," she told the old woman with an apologetic smile. "I don't think Rumple or I are going to be making any speeches beyond our vows and, well," she sighed, "after that, I think we'll probably just go home together. We don't really need anything fancy."

Granny sniffed at that. "Weddings aren't always just about what you need," she said sagely. "Reception or not, I want the two of you back here after the ceremony. At the very least, you ought to have one meal you won't have to cook or wash up after."

Belle blinked. "Oh, uh…" Her smile warmed. "Thank you."

"And if you want others to join you, let me know how many in advance," she added gruffly. "Don't worry. I can do tasty without doing fancy." She muttered something about having to check the oven as she bustled off to the kitchen, but not before Belle caught the twinkle in her eye.

Belle was still grinning, as she headed back to the hospital.

Rumple's lips twitched uneasily when Bashful held the back door open for him. His dealings with dwarfs had always been coolly professional at best. Usually, like most of the town, they left him alone unless they needed something from him, and Bashful had never once crossed the threshold of his shop, not even during the First Curse, unless in the company of one of his brethren. "I don't bite, you know," he murmured, just before the nervous dwarf shut the door.

Bashful flinched a bit, though Rumple was hard-put to say whether it was because of what he'd said, or whether his timid chauffeur would have reacted the same way to any other words he might have uttered. Silently, the dwarf went around to the other side to hold the door so Belle could slide in beside Rumple. Mission accomplished, Bashful circled around to the driver's seat and got in. Before he put his key in the ignition, though, he said softly, "She shouldn't've done all that."

Rumple blinked. "Beg pardon?"

Beneath his cap, Bashful's ears were scarlet and his knuckles were white as his hands gripped the steering wheel—a pointless action with the car motor off. Still, he said haltingly, "The witch. The cage. Using you. It wasn't right."

Last year—or was it four years ago—he would have bristled at such words. He didn't need anyone's pity! And nobody had ever shown him a modicum of concern if not out of pity. Well, nobody but Belle and Bae…

…And Emma in the woods, when I was fleeing the witch. And Regina when I returned through the Apprentice's portal. Henry. Whale… In London, where he'd had no reputation preceding him, there had been the Robertsons and Pip Gargery. George Darling. George Banks… And in Pen Marmor, he'd realized that had his younger self ventured into the market more often, he would hardly have been greeted with the jeers he'd always expected. Aulina… Talorc. Honora certainly hadn't been afraid to work for him; perhaps Bentham and Solara could have been added to the list, if he hadn't— With a pang, he drew his thoughts back to the present.

Perhaps, he considered, Bashful's words weren't coming from a place of pity after all. Rumple pressed his lips together several times, trying to find a response that wouldn't leave him vulnerable if his first instinct had been correct, but wouldn't be a slap in the dwarf's face if it hadn't been. "No," he said faintly. "Indeed, it was not."

Bashful ducked his head and turned the key in the ignition. As the motor hummed to life, he added, "Good thing that's over now."

Belle's hand squeezed his and Rumple squeezed back tightly. He still didn't know whether something he'd done in the past accounted for the general… friendliness… of the people about him…

…Or whether he could have had this all along, if he hadn't assumed that second chances would be denied to the likes of him and thus never attempted to earn one.

The protection spells were indeed surrounding the house, but they dropped easily enough at his command. Belle shook her head sadly at the layer of dust that coated the furniture and wall trim. "I'll get started on it," she said, trying to sound cheerful about it.

Smiling, Rumple motioned to the sofa. "Sit a spell," he invited her. "I think I'd rather the company right now. The cleaning can wait."

Belle brushed off the sofa cushions before complying. "Well, at least let me do this one room," she murmured. "And your bedroom."

"Magic could—"

Belle tilted her head and laid a cautioning hand on his arm. "Don't you always say that magic comes with a price? Don't pay it for something so… mundane." She hesitated. "Everyone's finally seeing it, you know."

Rumple blinked. "It?" he repeated.

"The good man you've always been under the Darkness," Belle explained, smiling. "I-I think when you use magic, even if it's not for some Dark purpose, it still… feeds the Darkness. Maybe if you don't use it as much…"

Rumple smiled sadly. "It's a good theory, Belle," he admitted. "Unfortunately, the facts don't bear it out. I was imprisoned in a magic-proof cell for more than eight months before the first curse carried us all to this realm. And then, I was without magic for more than twenty-eight years."

"I'm, uh, not so sure the time spent under the curse should count," Belle pointed out.

"Perhaps not. But as soon as I remembered who I was, the Darkness was back to whispering at me again."

Belle nodded. "Yes, but you fought it. Rumple, you saved Henry. You saved the town."

"And menaced it." He shook his head. "I threatened a child, Belle."

"Robin told us about that. Rumple, you had no choice."

"Perhaps I did," Rumple replied. "Zelena commanded me to get Regina's heart; she didn't tell me how. I just… wanted to get the task over with and chose the most expedient method I could think of."

"But you wouldn't have done anything of the kind if she hadn't held your dagger," Belle pointed out.

"Belle…"

She was holding his hands again, as she told him firmly, "Rumple, I've known you for some time, now. What happened with Roland was… awful. But it wasn't your fault. I saw you die last year and Rumple, you died a hero. The things you did when you came back were things Zelena forced you to do."

"Belle…" His voice was soft, and any protest he might have made was gently stifled when Belle brushed his lips with her own.

"I should get the vacuum," Belle murmured apologetically, when they came apart once more. "And I think I'll open a few windows; this place could use a good airing. I'll be right back."

Only after she'd headed down the hall did Rumple whisper sadly, "It wasn't always Zelena…"

Sleep eluded him. That was no surprise; Dark Ones, as a rule, did not require much slumber. True that hadn't been the case in magicless London, nor during the early days of his return to Storybrooke. Apparently, fighting off an illness, even when one's immortality returned, was rather draining. As his health and strength returned, though, his need for sleep had lessened.

Tonight, however, he didn't want to be alone with his worries. Belle had gone back to her library apartment for now, but in less than two weeks, when they were wed, she would return here permanently. It was something he yearned for, but it was also something he dreaded. Because the longer he remained here and the stronger he became, the more insistent his Darkness grew. Already, the dagger's song seemed to vibrate through his very bones. It was a nagging buzz now, but he knew it would grow more insistent until the blade was back in his hand. And once it was, it would be that much harder to control his baser impulses.

Belle wanted to be with him because she believed he'd changed. And for a brief period, just after his return from Neverland, he believed he had as well. And perhaps, he had, then. But whether his time in the Dark vault had undid his progress or whether it had been his time in Zelena's power, he'd learned that he'd been farther away from the good man he'd once been than he'd hoped.

But back in the Enchanted Forest… He frowned. In London, with no magic and no Dark voices whispering at him, it had been easier to keep his worse nature at bay. But in the Enchanted Forest, how had he—?

He'd sent the dagger away from him, he realized. And in a magical realm, his shadow could have carried it thousands of miles away. But in this land? His shadow could only hide where magic existed, so it—and the blade—had to be within the town boundaries. It might be in the woods, in the mines, or beneath the ocean, but it was nearby. Also, he'd been focused on avoiding all the missteps that had led to his losing Bae. It was easier to stay on the right path when one had vivid memories of the consequences of the bad choices one had made the first time around.

But now, his Darkness was back, his shadow and dagger were close, and he no longer knew where his choices would lead him. Well. That much wasn't entirely true, was it? he thought bitterly. With his Darkness now strong again, his choices were certain to lead to his losing Belle. As soon as she realized that he wasn't nearly the man she thought he was, she'd reject him, just as everyone else did in the end.

He rolled over in bed and clutched fiercely at the edges of his pillow. He'd just have to make sure she didn't realize it, then!

For as long as he could.

The moon was nearly full over the wishing well in the woods. Rumple waited apprehensively, a coat over a dark suit that no longer felt as customary as it once had. He knew that others were attending: Henry, Emma and her charming parents, Regina and Robin… But they didn't matter. Tonight, he had eyes only for Belle.

Escorted by her father, she wore a short white coat that nearly reached the hem of her dress. It was no traditional wedding gown, and she wore a hat rather than a veil, but Rumple wouldn't have cared if she were wearing the rags she'd had on when he'd first brought her here.

Archie beamed, as Belle drew closer to stand beside Rumple and the only reason that Rumple wasn't smiling himself was because he still couldn't believe that this was real. But here she was, practically glowing and while Rumple suspected that Moe French would be all the happier if he was bringing his daughter to a different bridegroom, tonight, there was no hint of any reservation or regret in his bearing.

And now, Archie was turning to Belle and asking her to speak her vows. And she was facing him with tears in her glorious blue eyes, as she took a breath and began.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she said softly, "this thing we have, it's never been easy. I've lost you so many times. I've lost you to darkness. To weakness and... And finally, to death. But now, I realize, I realize that I have not spent my life losing you. I've spent my life finding you."

It was his turn to speak now, and somehow, despite his nervousness, the words were still there. Belle, when we met I wasn't just unloved and unloving. I was an enemy of love. Love had only brought me pain. My walls were up. But you broke them down. You brought me home. You brought light into my life and chased away all the darkness. And I vow to you I will never forget the distance between what I was," his hand was sweating as he placed the ring on her finger, "and what I am. I owe more to you than I can ever say. How you can see the man behind the monster, I will never know."

Belle shook her head, smiling. "But the monster is gone," she said gently. And the man beneath him may be flawed, but we all are. And I love you for it. Sometimes the best book has the dustiest jacket. And sometimes the best tea cup is chipped…"

There was more, but Rumple couldn't hear it. Not over the roaring of the dagger and the gleeful voices in his head laughing at how she didn't suspect that— He ruthlessly suppressed both distractions as he focused on the woman standing before him, on the joy and hope and trust in her eyes on—

He realized that Belle had stopped talking. Archie—everyone, including Belle—was looking at him, waiting for an answer. And while he hadn't heard the question, he knew what it must have been. Suddenly, the enormity of what he was doing came crashing down on him. He was about to begin their future with a lie. A lie of omission, yes; Belle believed his monster was gone and he was neither confirming nor denying that error, but it was still an error. Marriage was a contract, an agreement, but it wasn't some deal where each party was trying to leverage some advantage over the other, looking for a loophole to exploit. Marriage was… was…

More than he deserved or was worthy of. Particularly marriage to Belle.

Abruptly, he released her, choking out an apology, as he ran past his shocked bride, past the stupefied guests, and into the woods beyond.

It was, perhaps twenty minutes later that he saw a small, white object floating toward him in the moonlight. Confused, he plucked it out of the air. A flower. Curious. Then he recognized it for a carnation and his eyes automatically dropped to his suit lapel. His carnation. Evidently, it had fallen off during his flight. As that realization struck home, he heard a soft voice call cautiously, "Rumple?"

Resigned, his shoulders slumped. "You brought a locator spell to the ceremony? Well. I wasn't planning on cold feet, but I suppose I can understand why you might have anticipated it."

Belle took several steps closer. "Regina had some of it in her vault. She, uh, pulled it from there when I found the flower." She hesitated. "Everyone else is back at the well, still, I think."

He nodded. Evidently, there were thanks due to some power or other for small favors, then.

"Rumple?" she asked again, and when he looked at her, he saw neither anger nor hurt, but confusion. "What… what happened back there?"

He could have told her it was a bad case of nerves. It wasn't as though she'd never seen him for the coward he was. He could have lied to her, as he had on that other occasion and told her that his power meant more to him than she ever would. He could have. Instead, resigned, he rose up from the boulder on which he'd been seated and raised one hand aloft. A moment later, a shadow dropped down from the sky, holding something that gleamed silver in its hand. For an instant, it seemed to hover over him. Then, it disappeared and he faced Belle once more, his dagger firmly in his hand. He turned the blade toward her, letting her see his name etched on the blade in flowing black script.

"The monster isn't gone, Belle," he said softly. "Oh, I might be able to hide it away for a time. And in a land without magic, well, there are limits to what it can do. But it's still there and it's very much a part of me. And, as much as you might wish it, I-I don't know that I prefer it otherwise. It's who I am," he continued miserably. "I thought that, perhaps, I could keep that side of me from you, do my best to be the man you want me to be, the man you deserve, for as long as I could, but I don't want to deceive you or hurt you more than I already have. You make me want to be a better man," he continued, "but that's still not enough. You deserve a man who isn't a monster. And that's not me." He shook his head. "I know I should have told you this earlier. It would have spared you the humiliation of a fleeing bridegroom," he added with no trace of a smile. "On the plus side, after my performance, if there was anyone in this town who might have faulted you for washing your hands of me, I imagine they'll change their tune now." His voice was starting to crack and he did his best to keep it steady a bit longer. "G-goodbye, Belle. And whether you believe me or not, I am truly sorry."

For several long seconds, silence stretched between them. Then, Belle said quietly, "You're right. You should have told me earlier. I'd never have made up that speech had I realized…"

Her voice trailed off, and Rumple started to nod his understanding. And then, he froze. "Not made up that…?"

Her hand pressed tightly into his. "You've told me before that… that even when you've tried to do the right thing, tried to be a better person, nobody ever seemed to see it. I wanted you to know that I did. I do." She smiled sadly. "I think I might have got a little, uh, carried away."

He could understand that. But surely, she couldn't mean… "Belle? A-are you saying that you still…?"

Her free arm wrapped itself about his shoulders, drawing him to her. "I love you, Rumpelstiltskin," she said fiercely. "Always have. All of you. Including the parts of you that belong to Darkness." She took a step back and tilted her head critically. Then she reached out to him and made a show of brushing off his sleeve. "This is just… the dustiest I've ever seen this jacket," she murmured, straight-faced but with a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

A tiny smile played on Rumple's face for a moment. Then he pulled her close to him once more with an expression of fierce joy.

Fifteen minutes later

"Do you, Rumpelstiltskin, take this woman to be your wife and to love her for all eternity?"

His eyes held hers as he answered. "I do."

Archie turned to Belle. "And do you, Belle, take this man to be your husband and love him for all eternity?"

The words were barely out of his mouth before Belle replied firmly, "I do." She'd intentionally asked Archie to leave her surname out it; 'French' was, in a way, a false name, one imposed by a curse, much as 'Gold' was. If they were to begin their new life on a foundation of honesty, then they were going to use the names they'd been given at birth and no others.

"Then," Archie announced joyously, "it is with great pleasure that I now pronounce you—

"—Husband and wife!"

A/N: Just a bit more to cover before we reach the end, folks! Thanks for hanging around!