Why was this difficult?
Why was telling the truth so fucking hard?!
A crash sounded as the bookshelf he pushed tipped over and fell to the ground, spilling its contents on the concrete floor. Not that she'd hear it from where they both were. After she'd retreated upstairs to his room, he'd gone to the closest place that felt safe, the place that reminded him most of his tower-the basement. He'd brought his temper with him, it seemed, and overturned one of the bookshelves first chance he got. It was just books. Books and the metal shelf. The books only made dull thud noises as they fell against each other, but the metal whined and groaned and vibrated with the unexpected energy he'd pushed into it in his upset.
His upset.
He wasn't sure what or who he was angry at. He wasn't even sure anger was what he was feeling right now! Anger would have been easily chased away by destruction and rage, but the pushing over of the bookshelf had done nothing to quell what he felt. The emotion was strange and unfamiliar. He'd sensed it the second he stepped into the room upstairs and saw Belle, felt it grow the moment her eyes had met his. He didn't know how to handle this emotion. Anger required rage. Sadness required tears. Happiness made him want to pick her up off her feet and make love to her for long hours, but this…he couldn't even name what he felt! If it didn't have a name, it didn't have a cure!
No. That was wrong. He knew what the cure was. He'd known what the cure was for weeks now.
The truth.
He didn't know what this was that was ripping through him, that made him freeze in his tracks the second that he'd seen her, that made him shake and quiver, but he knew he didn't like it. It made him feel weak and human again. But he knew the cure to it was to tell her the truth, tell her about Baelfire, tell her about why he'd brought magic, about what he was working on, about what he needed to do!
He didn't understand why the words never came out. He wanted to tell her. He'd planned to tell her a dozen times, already missed opportunity after opportunity to tell her all about it! And yet another one had just flit past him like leaves in the wind, gone before he could even try to grab hold of it. He had half a dozen speeches in his head already started where those conversations were concerned, and yet he never got them out, even when she demanded it, even when another trick of his was on the line.
Belle was smart. She'd figure it out now. That "deal" they'd made all those weeks ago, the one that wasn't truly bonded or sealed, but he'd let her think was…she'd know the truth about it now, about how he'd tricked her. She'd wanted the truth from him in that deal, promising that if he offered it, then she wouldn't bombard him with more than two questions in a day. She'd asked him two this morning. He hadn't been able to tell her the truth. He hadn't even been able to lie to her to make her think the deal was real. She'd realize that it wasn't now. He was certain that it was going to sting.
Fuck.
He should have just been honest with her in that moment too. He should have told her that it was no deal, but he hadn't been able to help himself in tricking her. The demon that lived inside of him had seen the advantage of the trickery, and he'd been pulled in. But that night, that dreadful night when they'd had that fight, and he'd come down here, just like this…it shouldn't have happened in the first place. He should have told her that night when she pressed him, should have confessed all he knew and let it sink in. Instead, he'd grown angry, left her on her own, and when he'd found her…
Memories of how he'd found her that night stung. They'd made up, of course, thoroughly, but before that, he remembered all too well the tears, the way she'd curled over herself and begged forgiveness for not being good at being with him. It was a terrible memory. It left him cringing as he remembered it, remembered that he was responsible for it. He let his eyes drift up to the ceiling as if he could see through level after level of his house, as if he could see her curled on the bed in tears again.
He didn't think that would be the reaction to this spat. No. The last time it had happened, he'd been angry, walked out, and left her stunned. This time she was the angry one. She was the one who had left him in stunned silence at his inability to tell one of the most important people in his long life about the other most important person in his life!
He had to fix it. He had to fix it now. And she might be angry, and she might choose to leave him as he feared, but after the way he'd tricked her, she was owed that truth. He could go upstairs, collect her from his room, explain that he wanted to make breakfast and talk, and this time...if the words didn't come…
From his shop, he summoned a small clear vial of liquid that fit easily into his palm. Truth Serum. Strong, powerful magic that he wouldn't be immune to unless he fought it. He wanted to tell her so badly that he suspected if he took it, slipped it into a bit of his orange juice, it might just be the help he needed to tell her everything. It wasn't perfect. If she caught him doing it, he suspected she'd be upset. But he had to get past this with her. He had to tell her. He needed to tell her.
He used his magic to fix the mess he'd made, to right the bookshelf and return the books he'd spilled onto the floor to their proper place. Then he pocketed the small potion and stared at the door to the basement. Not the outer door that he'd used ever since Belle had arrived, but the one that led into the upstairs hall. He was going to have to tell her about this space. It would be silly not to now that she'd already seen it and knew it was there, just as it would be silly not to use the door that led to it. If he was going to tell her everything, he might as well give her access to it. But not until she knew. Not until he'd told her. For that reason alone, he locked the door behind him again.
The house was just as silent as the basement had been. Silent and still. He wandered into the kitchen, the place he'd last been when he saw Belle and found no dishes in the sink, no Belle in the living room or dining room either, no plates or any other indications that she'd eaten. Good. That was good. That was how he'd convince her to come down and speak with him. He'd make her breakfast, he'd take the day off, they'd talk until midnight if it was required.
Upstairs the door to their room was closed, just as it had been the last time something like this happened. He knocked first this time, just to let her know he'd come to find her instead of letting her mind wander.
"Belle?"
No answer. But then, he hadn't really expected one if she was angry with him.
"Come on. At least come and eat something," he muttered, letting himself into the room.
He paused as he turned the corner to their bedroom and saw what he didn't expect. Empty.
It was empty.
He'd been so sure that when he walked in, she'd be sitting right there on the bed that he hadn't prepared himself for the possibility she wasn't there. But…if she wasn't in the bedroom…
The door to the bathroom was open. She wasn't there either. He turned to the sitting room, wondering if she'd been so quiet it was possible to walk by her.
It was empty too. The window was still open to let the breeze in, and the curtains were the only sign of movement in the room. Not just the room…the whole damn house!
He didn't command it; it was just on instinct that he naturally extended his senses as he searched for her, looking for her familiar heartbeat. His head tried to convince him that he was panicking for nothing, that he'd surely find her downstairs in the bathroom or the dining room or out in the garden, somewhere he hadn't looked. But there was nothing. On all his property, the only heartbeat he heard was his own.
Belle was gone.
And there it is, a turning point in their relationship. Belle is gone. We all knew it had to happen, and now here we are. Sorry, it's short, but...it's a short scene.
Thank you dearly for your comments Alarda and Grace5231973, I hope that you'll find what I did with this "scene" acceptable. It's a really short one in the show, so I had to come up with something before he went upstairs and being angry and brooding...that is just classic Rumpelstiltskin. And at this point in Chronicles, so is Rumple determining to tell her something. I hope you'll find it okay. Peace and Happy Reading!