A/N: I planned on dragging this out for far longer, but Belle and Rumple had different ideas. However, that means that I will probably start a secondary collection of small one-shots that occur in between these chapters. So be on the lookout for that possibility! Oncer4Life69Dearie prompted "what about a prompt where Malcolm dies?" Probably not exactly what you meant, but I took some liberty here. Hope you guys enjoy!

He'd dreamt of his father's death once again. Despite the frequency of the dream, Rumpelstiltskin found it disturbing each and every time. He disliked his father and everything the man stood for and yet… the man was his blood. Before his mother's death there had even been happy memories. A few spots of light among an ocean of absolute darkness. Those few moments allowed him to mourn that which might have been. And that grief seemed to be expressing itself in a morbid fashion.

The dreams of losing his father confused him more than anything. It grieved him that they would never have a relationship that he could look on with fondness. More than that though, he was ashamed of the relief he felt every time he had the dream. Knowing that his father could never again threaten or hurt him, lifted a weight off of his shoulders for a few blissful moments in his dreams. That relief troubled him. He wanted his father gone, dead even. What kind of person did that make him?

A soft scuffle on the steps alerted him that someone was approaching his position. While unlikely that anyone would actually wander through the trap door by accident, Rumpelstiltskin found himself unable to care if he was caught. Perhaps a teacher finding him out of bed and sitting precariously on the edge of the Ravenclaw tower would be the final straw in sending him away. Blue had threatened to expel him if he didn't stop fighting with the other boys, his explanations had, as always, fallen on deaf ears. She wanted him gone, the majority of the student body did as well. For that matter, most of the wizarding world wanted him held accountable for his father's actions. Maybe now they would get their wish and maybe just maybe he could find a little peace.

Not bothering to turn around, Rumple heard the door open and light footsteps walked towards him. A small part of him hoped that whoever it was wouldn't notice him and would go about their business. Unfortunately, that rarely happened and the tower, after all, was a rather small area.

"Rumple?" An all to familiar voice called to him, making his stomach drop to his knees. Turning his head afforded him the view of Belle walking towards him.

"Hey Belle," he muttered quietly.

She approached him cautiously. "What are you doing up here? Brooding alone?" She asked sitting a little back from him and the edge.

Still unsure if he wanted her company or not just yet, Rumple merely shrugged. "I just decided it might be a quiet place to think."

"Brood you mean," she corrected him. "Well this is a strange place for quiet," she continued acknowledging the continuous hooting and rustling of the owls that had decided to perch here overnight.

Rumple consented to both of her points. "Well maybe not so much quiet as devoid of other people."

"Ahh," she said quietly nodding her head.

Despite himself, he hoped that she didn't take his words to mean he wanted her to leave. He still wasn't sure if he wanted company, but she'd always been a comfort to him. And the dark thoughts swirling through his mind insisted that he might need a bit of comfort at the moment. His life had been on a downward spiral since the summer. Life had always been rather cruel to him, but this year had taken it to a whole new level. And pushing Belle away had left him with nothing to hold onto. There was little left for him to live for without her by his side.

Yet, pathetic as it sounded to him, he remained far too cowardly to end it all. He burned to prove the world and his father wrong. To force everyone to realize that he did have something to offer. However, now he wondered if even that was enough to keep him here. Having made and lost a friend, put life into a new perspective forcing him to realize that spite wasn't enough to live for.

Clearing her throat, Belle pulled the morose young man from his dangerous thoughts. "So, I take it that you aren't afraid of heights then," she said, indicating his legs swung out over the edge.

Rumple shook his head and after a moment of quiet decided to take her up on the offer of conversation. "You know, supposedly, the reason that we are afraid of heights isn't the prospect of falling, but the fear that we will throw ourselves off." He realized a little too late that that might be too somber for the moment but found he didn't care that much. He knew that Belle would take it in stride. It was one of her best qualities.

"I'm pretty sure my fear comes from a traumatic childhood experience involving a tragic sliding incident," she replied easily.

"Sounds serious."

"Oh it was. It was a very tall slide. Like at least 5 feet." Belle said the last while directing a small smile at him.

"That does sound traumatic," Rumple replied without looking at her. Knowing that she would stay beside him all night if she had too warmed Rumple's heart. He'd hurt her unforgivably and yet here she sat, pulling him back from the edge once more.

"Well since you so carelessly have your legs slung over the edge of the extremely tall tower, I'm going to assume it's not the heights you're afraid of?" Belle asked unable to mask the strange note of fear creeping into her tone.

"Oh no I'm terrified of heights actually," Rumple admitted matter of factly. "But I'm not looking down and that's supposed to help and all."

"So you fear throwing yourself into the abyss then," Belle returned. It hadn't been a question and he didn't answer. His refusal to look her in the eye apparently provided her the conformation she needed. After a very long pause she continued, "Is this because of what Jones and his crew did a few weeks ago?"

Rumple's closed his eyes tightly as the mark now seared onto his forearm began to itch. He'd never truly hated before, but Jones was slowly moving him in that direction.

Belle must have noticed his distress because she continued, "or is this because of the Prophet?" He didn't answer. "You have to talk to someone before anyone can help you Rumpelstiltskin," she insisted vehemently.

Wasn't that just the crux of it all though. If he spoke of what bothered him, he risked getting someone else hurt. Despite what the papers said about him, Rumple had no love of bloodshed. He wasn't his father. He shook his head before trusting his voice, "there's nothing to help Belle."

Though she'd recently admitted her fear of heights, Belle moved to the edge right next to him. Refusing to be daunted by her close proximity, Rumpelstiltskin stared down his folded hands. "There's obviously something wrong Rumple. You were attacked in the worst way, and no one did anything to help you. Jones and his crew are still walking around the school like nothing happened. How does that not bother you?"

"I'm used to it," he shrugged. It didn't bother him anymore. The indignation he might have once felt sat hollow in his chest. The discussions he'd had a few days ago with the portraits of those now dead had boosted his morale for a moment, but now even those hopes felt hollow.

"Well you shouldn't be. It's absolutely ridiculous," Belle's anger on his behalf threatened to resurrect that hope. But her next words spurred something else inside him. "Professor McGonagall agrees, but with Blue's involvement at the Ministry it's out of her hands."

"So, you've been talking with the professors about me then?" Rumpelstiltskin challenged. "And what do they have to say hmm? Are they ready to chuck me out as well? How about doing everyone a favor and minding your own business. While you're at it, leave me alone." He'd intended for his words to be calloused and cruel, but somehow, they just came broken.

Apparently, they sounded just as pathetic to Belle. "Your professors think nothing of the sort. Despite your best attempts to push people away, there are people here who care about you Rumpelstiltskin. If you could just get that through your incredibly thick skull maybe you wouldn't be so miserable all of the time."

Her time as his best friend, meant that she knew exactly which of his soft spots to prod to drive home a point. Unfortunately, all of the anger that had been simmering under the surface now had the perfect outlet. Rumpelstiltskin tried to reign in his temper to absolutely no avail.

Turning a glare on the bookworm he took a deep breath before hissing, "No one here cares about me. Not really. If they do, they'll realize how mistaken they are soon enough. Maybe if you'd get your nose out of book and your head out of the clouds, you'd realize that the world isn't some fairy tale with knights in shining armor and all that shit. In reality, people don't need sleeping curses or poisoned fruit to be evil or hated. All they need is an audience. Ask anyone Belle, I'm a scourge of humanity, a waist of breath and space. If I jumped off this tower tonight how many people would mourn?" He snorted at her prolonged silence.

Belle sat silently staring at him with a deep sadness engraved in her expression. "I would." At the confused expression that stole away his anger, she bumped his shoulder lightly with her own and continued. "You're my best friend. Even if you seem to have forgotten that fact in the past few weeks, it's true. You're the first person who's ever felt real to me. I would miss you ridiculously if you were gone. So, would Neal and Tilly, David, Mary Margaret, Emma, heck even Regina might admit to missing you. We've all been worried about you."

"Yeah right," he scoffed, but he refused to meet her eyes. She was lying to him. Trying to make him feel better. Why would anyone care enough to miss him?

"Stop that," she ordered, pulling him from his own darkness once more. "There are plenty of reasons why people would miss you," Belle continued as if she'd been reading his mind. "You're witty and clever, kind, the brightest person in our year… probably the whole school. And despite everything you've been through, you've got a good a heart."

Rumpelstiltskin couldn't help the way his heart soared at her description of him. Having someone believe in him was a novel experience. But he could quickly disavow her of those beliefs, he had to if he hoped to keep her safe.

"I'm not a good person Belle."

"I think you are."

"You're wrong. You don't know what I've done… how I've…" he trailed off unable to bring himself to muddy himself in her eyes.

"Then tell me, so I can decide for myself," Belle prodded.

Steeling himself to earn her ire, Rumpelstiltskin finally made eye contact with the young beauty. "The Prince brothers. I wish it had been them instead of their family. I don't really feel bad about that either." Seeing that she was about to interrupt, he held up a hand. "Let me finish." Belle nodded for him to continue.

"Worse than that, I'm the reason he knew about their family in the first place. They were targeted, not accidentally killed. My father wouldn't mourn an accidental death, but he's usually not that messy. I told him about the Prince's being heavily invested in the Ministry two years ago. I told him that their father would be a force to be reckoned with in regard to the Secrecy Bill. Phillip and Eric had talked about little else that year and after they decided it would be amusing to throw me into the lake that winter, I spilled my guts to my father. I thought if I could make him happy, he might talk with the Headmistress and have them expelled."

A cruel smile worked its way onto Rumple's face as he thought of his own foolishness before turning his attention to his many other sins. "I've provided Malcolm with information about the school many times. Especially Blue and the professors who follow her like the god she pretends to be. I've kept tabs on students when he's ordered me to, like the Nolan brothers or Graham. Kids whose parents were Death Eaters or sympathizers. I've gotten into fights with students on his orders. To send a message to their parents. I'm a chip of the old block as it were."

Silence reigned around them as Belle took in all that he had to say. "Is that what he wanted when he came to see you over the summer?"

An unbidden shudder coursed through Rumple at the thought of his father's lesson from this summer. He'd suffered far worse at his father's hands, but never had he been so terrified afterwards. His father's threats reminded him of why he needed to keep Belle away from him. Why he couldn't have the luxury of friends. His own actions sense reminded him of why he didn't deserve them.

"Malcolm wants to use Jones to keep his brother in line. He wants me to keep tabs on Killian and to threaten him if necessary. At first I refused… but after…" Rumple trailed off not wanting to admit just how week he truly was.

"After the mark," Belle supplied.

Nodding Rumpelstiltskin started again. "After that, I told Malcolm everything I know. About Jones and his brother, their absent father and lovely mother. I gave him everything he asked for because I wanted revenge." Rumple took a long steadying breath, "Like I said, I'm not a good person."

He refused to look back at his former best friend. Rumpelstiltskin could face many things without flinching, but he knew seeing hatred or disgust on Belle's face would shatter him completely. Even if it was a necessity, that pain wasn't something he would be able to move past.

Resigned to the absolute worse, Rumple was taken by complete surprise when a hand reached over and took his. Fingers laced through his and gave his hand a light squeeze. Hiding his eyes behind curtains of long hair, Rumpelstiltskin looked over to Belle.

Instead of hatred, disgust, or fear, he saw compassion and something almost like understanding. Eyes bluer than any sky met warm brown and Rumpelstiltskin felt his heart soar. "I don't think making acting out of anger makes you a bad person," Belle offered.

Rumple clung to her words like a drowning man clings to a life raft. She'd offered him awfully close to hope and he wasn't strong enough to resist her. "I put them all in danger, to save my own skin," he argued. "If nothing else it's a cowardly thing to do."

"Under the circumstances, I think there are a good number of people – myself included – who would make similar decisions. That doesn't make you a bad person, it makes you human."

"But-"

"Rumpelstiltskin Gold, you listen to me," Belle ordered as she turned his face to her. "Your father is a horrible person and he's repeatedly put you into impossible decisions. But he is still your father. I can't even begin to understand what your feelings towards him are, but I'd be willing to bet there's a part of you that still wants his approval. What you did wasn't right, but you are not a bad person because you've made a few mistakes. If that was true, we'd all be screwed. If you want to blame someone for the deaths of those people, blame Malcolm not yourself. He's the monster here, not you."

Tears that had been threatening for far too long began to trickle down Rumple's face at Belle's acceptance. She didn't hate him. At least for the moment, she wasn't going to leave him. It was more than he'd ever dared to hope for. Too many people had discovered that he couldn't measure up to what they wanted and had walked away from him. Yet Belle didn't leave. She remained steadfastly by his side.

"He can't know," Rumple said in a voice gruff with tears.

"Can't know what?" Belle asked.

"That we're friends. That I care about you." Panic began overtaking him as he realized that he couldn't keep pushing Belle away. He couldn't allow his father to ruin whatever it was growing between them. But he also couldn't let him hurt Belle.

"Rumple, it's okay," Belle assured as she put an arm around his shoulders. "I can take care of myself."

"No!" he shouted startling a few of the owls perched close to them. "You can't think like that. He'll use you, hurt you to get his way," he was rambling and completely unable to stop himself. "He hates me Belle. If he thinks he can use someone against me, he won't hesitate. Being close to me puts you in more danger than you could possibly understand. I can't… I can't lose you. He can't know. I- "

Belle pulled him into a tight hug effectively cutting off his fearful ramblings. The two sat perched on the edge of the Ravenclaw tower holding onto each other desperately tight. "You aren't going to lose me. Ever. You're not lucky enough for that." The last was said with a watery laugh that somehow found itself spreading to Rumpelstiltskin.

As the darkness encroached ever tighter around them, Belle and Rumpelstiltskin found that they had created a small light of their own. It wasn't much, but it allowed them to find a rare spot of happiness in even the darkest place.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I also want to throw out a thank you to everyone who has been following this story. I know updates are sporadic, but I appreciate each of the comments, kudos, favorites, etc. that you guys post. It's always wonderful to hear that someone is enjoying this story as much as I am. So, thank you, thank you, thank you. You guys are awesome! As always, prompts are still being accepted and I will see you guys in the next chapter.