"Listen, just…take things easy. Just have a conversation with her," Belle's nurse stressed to him outside her room at the nurse's station for what felt like the millionth time in the last fifteen minutes. "She doesn't know about magic yet, but getting her acclimated to it isn't what this encounter is about. It's about her comfort and seeing if she'd be comfortable going home with you. If the answer to that question is 'yes,' then we'll make the arrangements and get Archie Hopper in on how best to proceed with introducing her to magic."

"It's the 'no' part that makes me nervous," he admitted, surprising even himself in saying it. He wasn't one to show weakness, yet here he was, still receiving a pep talk from the nurse before going in to face the stranger who was once his Beautiful Belle. He had faced many a fearsome beast as the Dark One, but it was the brunette in the last room that scared the shit out of him.

"Listen, if she says 'no,' then that can be a start too. Never underestimate the power of man that can respect the word 'no' when it comes to woman," she insisted firmly. "But don't worry about that for now. Just start with a conversation."

"You've already said that," he snapped.

"Then why are you still out here talking to me when you could be in there talking to her?"

An excellent question, one that he didn't have the answer to other than the fact that he was too damn scared to admit to being too damn scared. But, he supposed, that now he either had to say it out loud, or he had to move forward and talk to her. He took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. He may as well move forward.

His eyes watered at the first sight of her in weeks. She was there, sitting on her bed, reading a book. She was dressed in something the hospital had given her, but she seemed comfortable somehow, at ease. She seemed like herself. If he stared at her much longer, he was certain he might forget where he was, where she was, and that his brain would automatically assume that he was seeing her, his Belle, and not…not whoever she was now that she had not a scrap of Belle inside her.

But it couldn't be all that bad. She was reading. There must have been something familiar about it deep inside of her then. There must have been some bit of his Belle left inside the nothing…

He knocked on the door when she didn't acknowledge his presence. There was a pause, a slight one, as she placed her hand in her book, looked up at him with two clear eyes…and her mouth dropped in surprise. He felt himself smirk at that. It wasn't the kind of surprised look a person had when they were shocked or scared of something. It was the look she'd had once when she'd brought a picnic to his shop, the look she gave when he'd taken her to the cabin. It was a happy surprise. She was happily surprised at his appearance, and something inside of his stomach loosened at the thought. Maybe there was something of his Belle left…

"You're…you're alive?!" she exclaimed suddenly, making him suck in a gulp of air he hadn't known he needed.

"Indeed, I am." Yes, he'd had to remind himself of that on the way over, that the last time he'd spoken to her, she had sounded a bit calmer, but he had been dying. The good thing was she didn't sound saddened at the fact that he was alive and well. She seemed more relieved! He wondered, if he dared to step closer…

"I imagine my last phone call was a bit alarming…"

"You uh…sounded like you were on your death bed." She looked away from him, broke eye contact to stare at the book in her lap, but he could see a small smile on her face. And a blush in her cheeks. Belle had blushed at the castle; she'd done it often, in fact. And those first few weeks they'd gotten to know each other in Storybrooke had been filled with awkward blushes. Perhaps it was better than a good thing.

"I'm really sorry if I startled you." He admitted it delicately, choosing his words carefully and with precision because he wanted her to know…he was really sorry if she was startled, but he wasn't sorry that he'd said the words. He meant every one of them. And suddenly, it was just as important to him that she knew that, just as it was important for her to know that he was sorry for the way they were delivered. "I know that you have no memory of me…but my feelings for you are real. And I just needed you to know that in case…well, in case I died!"

He tried to laugh off the last part, suddenly aware that he hadn't prepared anything for explaining his behavior or the urgency of his phone call. His explanation wasn't exactly the power that came from a man respecting the word "no," but it was the truth. Belle always appreciated the truth, even if she didn't understand it. Perhaps then this was-

"I'm glad you're okay," she smiled up at him, making whatever had loosened in his stomach tighten again.

He liked it when she smiled. He liked it that she was glad he was okay. Considering their last face-to-face encounter, this was like night and day. This was…a relief.

"And I could tell that your feelings were true."

He couldn't help it; he needed magic to help control his body, lest he start to shake and tremble from what he was hearing. She'd been able to tell that it was true? Belle could do that. Belle was one of the only people who could ever read him, and…

"You could?"

"I have a sense about people," she explained calmly. "I can't explain how, but I just do."

A sense about people. He held his breath in hope. Before he'd left, she'd resembled nothing of who she'd been. But now she could read him. And she wanted books. And she knew he was telling the truth, and…now she had a sense about people? Oh, could this actually work? Was it possible his Love was still in there?

"So…you believe we know each other?"

"I believe that whatever caused me to forget myself means that I have a past. And that past probably included you."

"It did."

His mouth was dry. He wanted to cry. He wanted to sing. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her because he felt almost certain if he did, she might come back to herself or, at the very least, not reject him. But all he could do at the moment was stare down at her in wonder and amazement, contemplating what she'd said. She believed. She believed they'd been together. Or at least believed that she'd been in his life somehow. That was so much better than an insistent cry to go away.

"When I uh…when I was injured, I…this is gonna sound crazy," she breathed, shaking her head side to side. He waited patiently for her to say what was on her mind. He waited desperately. What was it? "I remember you healing me."

Magic. She remembered magic. And just like that, his mind was able to focus. The nurse's words returned to him, her advice and her warnings. She wasn't ready to talk about magic yet. But she might be. The progress that she'd made was remarkable, and yes, he believed that it might actually be possible that she could make her way in this world without her past in her head. But the more he stood in this room, the more he believed she might one day be his Belle again. And belief and hope…those were the most powerful kinds of magic.

"You've been through a lot; serious injury, all the drugs you've been on since you've been in here…"

This wasn't about magic. She wasn't ready for that. But he couldn't lie to her, his Belle didn't like lies, and he was certain this one wouldn't either. He could practically see her face fall as he wound up to attempt a lie. He couldn't bear it. And so, in the lie's absence, he'd give a truth. A safe one.

"Once you remember who you are, it'll all become clear."

She looked up at him again like he was the sun coming out on a cloudy day. Like for the first time since she could remember, he hadn't disappointed her. Odd, because he was beginning to think that for the first time since she'd be able to remember, this encounter might end well, perhaps even better than well.

"Can you help me do that?" she asked suddenly. "Remember who I am?"

Oh, how strange…that was exactly the reason that he'd decided to take a step in coming here, so that she could help bring him back to himself as she always had.

"Only if you help me remember who I am."

"I'm sorry. What?" she asked, looking up at him confused.

"Belle, you always brought out the best in me. And right now, I need that. So, yes. I will do everything I can to bring you back, for you…and for me."

She beamed again, grinning at him from ear to ear before she moved, and he felt something on his own hands. It was her own. The woman who had once cringed at his presence and begged him to leave her…she was touching him now. She was touching him again. Just as she had when he gave her the library in his castle…

"We can help each other," she smiled.

"Yeah," he muttered, aware that his voice was hushed in amazement of her. If anyone could do this, if anyone could use love to bring them back from the brink of the worst Curse ever thought up, it was his Belle. But this wasn't about magic, he remembered. It was about something else. And suddenly, with her hand warm on his own, he had the sense that if he asked, "no" wouldn't be her answer.

"Let's talk to someone about getting you out of here. You've been locked up long enough. I have a house," he offered quickly. "You'd have your own room, plenty of books to read, anything you want to eat, and no one would bother you. You'd be safe there."

He didn't think it was possible, but her smile grew even brighter at his offer. "I would like that."

Another straightforward, seen scene. I did my best to make it unique and really bring out Rumple's timidness. I wanted it to feel like he was a nervous teenager here. Whether or not I accomplished that...I don't know. This one was tough to translate from screen to page, but as always, I did my best.

Thank you dearly, Grace and rsbeall, for your reviews on the previous chapter. Much appreciated. I'm eagerly awaiting your thoughts on those chapter. It's not my best, but I'm hopeful that you'll think it's certainly not the worst either. Peace and Happy Reading!