Storybrooke, during the curse

Lacey couldn't remember ever being happy with Brad; to be honest, she could barely remember when she liked him. It must have been good in the beginning or else she'd never have moved in, but it hadn't taken long for them to start fighting. Lacey knew she had a bad temper and she knew she didn't let things go easily. That's what had started it all, really - she couldn't ever let things go.

They'd been fighting over some stupid shit - she'd wanted to go out and he wanted her to stay home and then he slammed her against a wall and she saw stars for a second. She'd never been hit before, and she wasn't sure what to say or do afterward. They stared at each other for a few minutes that felt like an hour and then he stormed out and she took a shower and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. It didn't leave any bruises or anything, and he came back and apologized and they talked it out and she was pretty sure that was going to be the end of it.

It wasn't the end of it, though. She wasn't stupid and she'd learned all the signs of when it was time to leave a bad relationship in school just like everyone else. After he'd done it a few more times she knew it was going to keep happening, but she also knew she was hard to live with. And anyway, what the hell was she going to do? Go back to her dad's house? Everyone knew she could barely hold down a job as it was, and moving back home would just prove once again that 'Racy Lacey' needed to be taken care of because she couldn't do it herself. Asking for help would just be admitting she'd been an idiot, and a victim, and that she'd made a mistake.

She didn't want to be a victim or a failure, and everyone knew that girls like her were nothing but trouble anyway.

Storybrooke, 2011

Rumplestiltskin didn't remember the last time he'd had a full night of sleep, if indeed he'd ever had one. When he was a boy, hunger and fear had kept him awake, and as an adult there had always been too much work to do. Taking on the dark curse had at least rid him of the exhaustion of not sleeping, and since he'd brought magic to this new land it had taken over for him again. So while Belle dozed, he was free to watch her without fear of discovery. She was completely naked in her bed, having dragged him upstairs for a second round as soon as he was physically able. Gold and Lacey had been in this bed a thousand times before, but he'd never seen Belle here and he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

He had no idea what any of this meant. She said she forgave him, and the sex heavily implied some sort of romantic entanglement, but she was also definitely hormonal. He didn't know what she wanted from him anymore-if he ever had known what she wanted. He'd lived three hundred years; one would think that he'd have some idea of what women wanted, and yet he remained completely vexed by them. Belle herself had always been particularly confusing: she'd always been too brave for her own good and too damn determined to love him for her own safety. The idea of having both Belle and his son had never seemed to be more than a dream - Rumplestiltskin was a man far too used to compromises and an imperfect happiness, and being so close to having everything he'd ever wanted...the possibility itself was impossible, and yet here he was and damn him, he had hope.

As he watched her, Belle began to twitch a little in her sleep and make little whimpering noises. He recognized the signs of a nightmare easily from a lifetime of experience and before he could even think twice about it, he was shaking her awake. She sat up with a yelp and flinched away from his hands so hard she almost went tumbling off the side of the bed. He jerked away from her on instinct, but he'd scarcely had time to register the horrible sting of rejection when she looked at him with terribly wide eyes and threw herself into him hard, holding him tight and burying her face in his chest.

"Belle?" he asked, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened when he realized her shoulders shaking with sobs. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"I had a terrible dream," she gasped, clinging tighter to him somehow as her tears soaked into his skin. He didn't know what else to do besides hold her while she wept and let his mind boggle at the fact that she'd sought him out for comfort when she was afraid.

They laid there for a few moments until she finally calmed down and relaxed into his embrace.

"I'm sorry for reacting like that," she said. "I knew it was a dream, it just felt so real while it was happening."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked, almost afraid of her answer. What could she possibly say that wouldn't be a result of his betrayal?

She was quiet for a long time, and he thought perhaps she hadn't heard him or just didn't want to, but at last she spoke.

"I was married to Guy of Gisbourne," she said and he felt her arms tighten around him for a moment before releasing a little. "Like the Queen had planned back in the old world. And pregnant, and…" she hiccuped a little and couldn't finish, so he just held her closer and whispered nonsense into her hair.

He'd been right, it had been his fault. She'd only ever been in that position because of him, and he wasn't sure how to even begin to make it up to her or if he even ever could.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "I should have killed him slower."

She laughed bitterly at that and rolled away enough to look him in the eye.

"No," she said slowly. "You shouldn't have. I'm glad he's not a threat anymore, but I don't want you to darken your soul over him."

"My soul is plenty dark," he replied. "Another twenty minutes here or there wasn't going to make any difference on that score."

She flinched and he instantly regretted saying it. He was supposed to be reassuring her, not scaring her and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologize when she spoke again.

"What did you do to him?" she asked at last.

"You don't want to know," he replied, because she didn't. And more than that, he didn't want to tell her. He didn't want her to look at him and see destruction and murder.

She was about to protest, but he drew her close again and held her against his chest.

"I did what I could to protect both of you," he said at last, because it was the only truth he had left. "I did the only thing I could do."

Belle paused, but she eventually nodded and settled into his embrace again.

"I hate myself for feeling reassured by that," she replied. "But promise me you won't do it again. No matter what, no more killing and no more hurting people."

"I can't," he said simply. "I've been the Dark One for too long and I have far too many enemies. As long as people know who I am, I can't promise that I'll never need to kill someone again."

"Then no more torture," she said. "No more cruelty, and no more hurting people for trivial things. Not like with Robin...with the thief, I mean. No more killing people for revenge, only if they're an actual threat."

He didn't want to promise that. For one thing, he wasn't sure how successful he'd be at keeping it. There was a darkness in him that he didn't think she'd really understand even if he tried to explain it. She'd always seen the best in him, even when he hadn't given her a reason to, and he didn't want to let her down and give her a reason to grow to doubt him.

"Okay," he said finally, because what else could he say? There was only right answer, no matter how much he doubted his ability to do what she'd asked. "I promise, no more killing unless there's no other choice."

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said, sitting up and stretching. "We should probably get out of bed, though. I'm hungry."

He nodded dumbly, trying hard not to stare at her. She'd let the blankets fall away from her chest when she sat up and his eyes were riveted to her curves. Belle had always been beautiful, but she was radiant now. There was a roundness to her pregnant body that he found fascinating, probably because he'd never really seen it before. She was the first pregnant woman he'd ever spent any significant amount of time with, but he couldn't imagine any pregnant woman had ever been that beautiful standing next to a bed and digging through a dresser looking for panties.

"Ow!" she exclaimed suddenly, and even though he couldn't see any particular cause of her distress, he was instantly on high alert.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up quickly.

"The baby kicked me," she muttered, rubbing her belly. "She's been getting a lot more active lately."

"Oh," he replied, as his eyes fixed on her abdomen. His child was kicking - she was alive and moving and kicking.

He gradually became aware that Belle was watching him as he watched her and he looked away.

"Sorry," he said.

"Do you want to feel?" she asked him, coming closer. "You've never really felt her before, have you?"

He shook his head, feeling his throat go completely dry at the offer. He'd only really touched her belly a handful of times and never when the baby was moving. With Lacey he'd intentionally avoided any and all contact with the idea of the child, and with Belle he simply hadn't been comfortable asking for permission to touch her there. It had been an intimacy he'd denied himself out of respect for her, yet here she was stark naked and standing in front of him offering.

"Do you mind?" he finally managed to say, looking into her face for the first time during the conversation.

"Of course not," she said, walking over and taking his hand to place it carefully over her lower belly where his daughter was.

He'd seen wonderful things in his life and performed magic that most could only dream of, but he'd never before been so awestruck as he was at that moment, with his little girl fluttering under his fingers. He looked back up at Belle to be sure she was still comfortable, but she was smiling down at him and his focus was quickly drawn back to his child. His daughter was real and he could feel her.

"Hello little one," he whispered, wondering if she could hear him in there. She kicked again in what he hoped was a reply, so he continued. "I'm your papa," he said, fighting back tears of joy. "I know I haven't been here for you so far, but I promise I will be from now on."

Belle reached a hand up and began stroking his hair, and he lost all control of his tears and pressed a kiss to her belly. This was a family now, and the only piece missing was his son who he - who they - would find. Baelfire was in this world, and for a brief moment he knew that this hadn't all been in vain. They would find a way out of town, and he could make amends with his son and never leave his daughter's side. This could be perfect.