Tonight, he was testing a theory. Admittedly, a theory that he'd only come up with approximately two seconds after she'd crawled into the bed with him, but a theory all the same. She'd had another nightmare last night. It was two nights in a row now. He knew because it had started the first time they hadn't had sex since she'd come back to him, a fact he felt rather impressed with when she'd snuggled into him and told him she was simply tired and asked if it would be okay if they just went to sleep. He'd nodded and insisted that it was always up to her, that nothing ever was or would be required of her while she was with him, and that he was content to hold her through the night. They'd fallen asleep together, entwined as they always were, happy and content-

And then the screaming had begun.

Just after midnight, she'd torn herself from him with a sharp, high-pitched sound that woke him instantly. Her back heaved as if she couldn't breathe. She sat up in bed, the blankets wrinkled as she tangled them into her fists, as she looked wildly about the room.

"Belle! Belle, what's wrong? What did you see?"

"I know my name," she cried, her voice cracking, as she searched and scanned for an unseen force. "I know my name, I know your name, I know who I am, I know…I know…I know my name…"

Then she'd wrapped her arms around her legs, rested her forehead down over them, and dissolved into tears that broke his heart because she was broken. It might not be her body that was broken, her bones were whole, she'd never actually flung herself off a tower or been flogged because of him, and she might have been strong, just as strong as he'd known her to be when she was in his castle…but Regina had broken her in a way. Not mentally or psychologically, perhaps it was only subconsciously, in her dreams, that her brokenness revealed itself. With the medications to calm her no longer in her blood, it seemed the nightmares were becoming more prevalent. And these small breakdowns, moments where she folded in on herself and cried out of fear or pain or shock, they tore at him.

He could kill Regina for it. He could leave their bed right then, march over to her house, wrap his hands around her throat and choke the life from her for what she'd done to his beautiful Belle. But it was his Beautiful Belle that kept him right where he was. Leaving her in this state wasn't going to help her. Killing Regina wasn't going to make her experience vanish. It was always going to be there. They were going to have to learn to live with it. Both of them.

So instead, he'd sat up and pulled her to his side. She'd been tight. Every nerve twitched where he touched her, hypersensitive. Every muscle shook with tension. Along her spine, around her back, hip to hip, up her neck…he moved his hands gently and carefully, whispering promises into her hair.

"You are safe, Sweetheart. You are here with me, you're perfectly safe, and I'll keep you safe for the rest of my life. You'll be all right."

Eventually, she'd uncurled. Eventually, she'd released her muscles and clung to him instead of herself. Eventually, he'd laid them back on the bed and let her sleep on his chest, in the cradle his arms made for her. He was content to hold her just as he'd promised earlier but not so content that he was pleased with the turn of events.

That was last night, but this was tonight. And he noted that when she'd crawled into bed, she was shaking, and he was almost certain that it was because of the last two nights when she'd woken up screaming. That was also when it dawned on him that the last two nights they'd gone to bed, they hadn't had sex. He had a lot of knowledge, from Mr. Gold, from the Dark Ones and the Seer, even from himself. But he wasn't a doctor. He was just a curious man who knew that the brain released chemicals during sex. He didn't know what kind of chemicals, but he wondered if they weren't a drug of their own, if that was the key to keeping her happy and nightmare-free. Obviously, if it was, then it wasn't really a solution. They couldn't have sex every night for the rest of their lives, no matter how much he'd love to try with her. But he was curious. And she was scared and in need of a distraction. And they were both in bed…

"My Beautiful Belle…"

At his voice, he felt her swallow, then prop herself up on her elbow so she could look down at him. "What?"

He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to tell her what he was thinking because he was certain that it would sound crazy to her. Or worse. He worried that to her it might sound as though she was a burden waking him up each night. He didn't want her to think that. But, of course, he didn't want to tell her the actual truth either, which was that as horrified and angry as he was at Regina, he still couldn't believe he was the one who got to calm her and soothe her back into sleep. He felt lucky when she was terrified, not exactly something he wanted anyone to know. He couldn't form the words to tell her any of this, so instead, he said the only thing he could think to say, the only thing he knew that mattered.

"I love you," he promised, then drew her mouth down to his own and kissed her until the shaking stopped. He kissed her until her panic fled, until last night was a memory so distant it had no business in her head. He kissed her mouth first, then her body, inch by inch as he stripped it bare, worshiping her in a way he'd never worshipped the gods of their world or this one. He kissed her until they were both shaking not from fear but from the place at the peak of desire where want and need mingled together with sweat and tears. He kissed her as he declared his love over and over with body and soul until she cried and returned the words that he was still certain were nearly impossible. He kissed her until they found their way back to his side of the bed and curled into one another, and he prayed his experiment was enough, prayed that she'd be comforted for the night and sleep through it.

"Stay with me," she whispered as her fingers fluttered over his skin, making pictures that left him tingling and aware of all of her beside him. "Forever."

"I can't think of a better way to spend eternity, Sweetheart." And it was true. He couldn't. If this worked, if this was a key, he knew it wouldn't work for them every night but felt like he would fight to the death to make it work. To spend every night in her embrace, to love her, to hold her! He could live with it. If the entire world was just this bedroom, he well and truly believed they had everything they'd ever need to live out the remainder of their lives in peace.

And then the Seer and the Dark Ones had to interfere.

Sometimes he was so caught up in worrying over her nightmares he forgot to worry about his own. But they still haunted him. He'd never really slept until she came around, but now that she was here and he found himself doing it more and more with his magic, his magic wanted to remind him of the real reason he was here, in Storybrooke. It wasn't for Belle, as much as he wanted it to be. It was for Baelfire. In sleep, images of his past crept up on him as reminders.

Baelfire with the bean in his hand.

Milah on Hook's ship, her heart turning to dust in his fist.

Baelfire telling him that it might have been better to fight.

A glimpse at the sledgehammer he was about to send into his ankle.

Margery leaving for her new life with her new husband.

Hook taking Milah.

Belle telling him that he'd made his choice and would regret it.

Baelfire screaming at him to let go of the dagger.

Zoso telling him to let go of the boy.

Baelfire's hand slipping from his grasp.

A bright light.

Nothing.

Belle was a heavy sleeper. There was little in the world that could wake her until she was ready, but somehow the second his eyes flung open in the night from a terror of his own, she knew. He wasn't so shocked by his own nightmares anymore, and decades of sleeping in this room meant that with a single look he knew he was awake and safe, so he didn't react as she did. But he always wanted air.

Belle moved away from him, pulling the sheets with her, allowing the cool air to touch his skin and cool him. He didn't need it. He could cool himself with magic, but there was something about a nightmare making him feel human that made him grateful for the fresh air. It helped somehow. So did walking. Usually, when this happened, he got up, went downstairs to get a glass of water, then wandered into the basement, pondering what he could do about the current situation he wasn't already doing. Inevitably he always remembered Belle and returned to bed with her when he realized there was nothing to be done. He had to wait for Emma or find August. Until then, there was nothing.

"Are you all right?" Belle finally asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"Fine," he lied, just as he always did. He wasn't fine. His tongue felt like sandpaper. And worst of all, he was happy and content sleeping next to Belle, and it made him angry because he too often forgot that she was not the be-all-end-all. Baelfire was. He felt guilty for being with her when he should be doing everything possible to get back to him.

He felt her sit up behind him and put her hands on his back. "Do you know what it was about this time?"

"No," he lied again as more guilt crept in. He should tell. He knew he should tell her. He was going to have to tell her about it someday, hopefully someday soon. Whether he left her here in Storybrooke to retrieve Baelfire or took her with him, he would have to explain it all. She'd understand. He loved her. He trusted her. But for some reason, every time she asked him what was wrong or what his own nightmares were about, the words never came.

Over his shoulder, he felt her hair brush against his arm and her mouth touch his skin in a kiss so delicate it brought him to his knees. It was so easy to give in to her, to lose himself in her night after night. Baelfire, he had to think of Baelfire.

"Come on," she whispered, tugging at his arm. "Come back to bed."

Baelfire.

"No," he answered. "I need to go downstairs to-"

"You need sleep!"

Sleep was the last thing he needed.

"I don't want to keep you up."

Water and down to his basement, away from Belle where he could at least sit and pretend his mind was focusing on Baelfire.

"The only way you can keep me up is by leaving. I can't sleep without you anymore."

Was that true? How long had it been? How long had they been like this? A week? She seemed to sleep fine during the day without him, but…

Now that he thought about it, each time this happened, and he came back to bed, she was always up, always waiting for him to lay back down so she could go back to sleep. He felt her hands move over his back as his own had moved over hers the night before. She couldn't sleep without him…was it really true already?

"Going downstairs to pace isn't going to make the memories come back, Rumple. Trust me, I know."

He glanced over his shoulder at her, and she met his eyes with a smile. She didn't know. She didn't know that he remembered because he hadn't told her. He should tell her. But all he could think about when he looked at her was that she was right. If he went downstairs, he'd get nothing accomplished just like he had every other time this had happened. At least with her he had the benefit of being with her.

She smiled when he nodded in agreement. "Come on," she muttered before she kissed his shoulder again and lay back against the mattress with her arms open for him. Hours earlier, watching her layout naked like that would have been irresistible to him. Now, instead, he just wanted to be close to her. So he let himself slide around her, put his head on her chest, just below her chin, and reveled in the feel of her small form swallowing his own up. She rubbed his back, kissed his head, moved her fingers over his scalp and through his hair in a way that settled him almost like magic. The sound of her heartbeat drumming in her chest was calming. Her breath filling her lungs was his lullaby.

His experiment had failed, for her at least. He'd have to try again another night to soothe her dreams. But for now, his own mind cleared a little bit more with every move of her hands.

"Just close your eyes," she whispered to him. "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

Yes. Yes, she would. But it dawned on him that Baelfire would not be, and suddenly he was awake all over again.

This chapter was originally attached to the next chapter, but in the end, I split the two because it was too long, and they came out as two very distinct chapters. This scene, while really freaking minor in Moments, is a really important chapter in the Chronicles. You can once again see him beginning to separate Belle and Bae. He feels guilty when he's with Belle because he's not being a father and working toward getting back to Bae. But those times that he is working on Baelfire he feels guilty for wanting to go back to Belle and be with her. He's beginning to get that feeling of "I trust her and want to tell her," but it's just not happening.

This incident really starts to set him off on a bit of a spiral that will ultimately culminate in 2x04. But you are all experts in OUAT, and I'm sure you can see that coming. Peace and Happy Reading!