Author's Note: Thank you for all the kind reviews, everybody! I know the chapters have been short, I'm working on it. It makes me really happy to see that people are actually reading what I've written. Thanks for putting a smile on my face :) Without further ado, the next chapter...

Rumplestiltskin was concerned. In the days following the visit to her village and father, Belle had not been the same. Where there had once been cheerful humming as she swept or dusted, there were now sighs. She had not been sleeping well, he had noticed, for there were bags under her eyes and he could simply sense her restlessness. He had told her to stop working, to stop cleaning and concerning herself with trivial matters, but she insisted "no, you can see, this table is filthy" or "this dust will form mountains if I don't get rid of it now." Rumplestiltskin knew that, deep down, she just needed to keep herself occupied and her mind on the trivial things so that she wouldn't think of the things that really hurt.

One morning, Rumplestiltskin found Belle asleep at the table, sitting in his chair, an empty tea cup clasped in her hand. She'd been up all night. He touched her shoulder to see if she would awake. She flinched, but was still immersed in deep sleep. He couldn't help but staring at her sleep. Her hair cascaded over her face like a still, auburn waterfall. He lightly tucked her hair behind her ear so he could see her face. For the first time in days, she did not look troubled. In her sleep, she was serene, her mind at peace. The table was no place for her to rest. He carefully drew out the chair and leant Belle to the back of it so she would not fall. Then he gingerly scooped her up. The sunlight seeping through the window shone on her face, accentuating her cheekbones and the small curves in her lips. Rumplestiltskin's mind relapsed back to the day when she had first fallen into his arms, the day she butchered his curtains. One of the best choices she had made.

He carried her carefully up the stairs and down the long hallway to her bedroom. He motioned with his head for the door to open and then for the covers to fold over in her bed. He lowered Belle down and pulled the covers up to her chest. He backed out of the room and began to close the door. Before he did, however, he turned back to look at Belle one more time. He was surprised to see her eyes slowly open and look right into his. She smiled at him and whispered, "Thank you" before closing her eyes and drifting off once more.

Belle slept all day, but was awoken by the sound of thunder outside. Curious, there had not been a thunderstorm since her arrival at the Dark Castle. She never liked the sound of storms; they always brought danger, according to the superstitions of her village. There had been a massive thunderstorm the night before the Ogre wars. Since that night, Belle had become a believer. She tried to continue sleeping through the night, but the thunder and lightning was too unnerving. Tossing and turning, she became fidgety and overcome with anxiety. She sat straight up in bed when a loud crackle of thunder erupted, sounding especially close; it was too close.

Everything became more uncertain and frightening at night. She wasn't scared of a lot of things, but the wrath of nature, she felt, was something to be feared. The last thing she wanted at this moment was to be alone. Belle pulled back the thick covers and got out of bed. She didn't know what she was doing or if she was making a mistake, but she left her room. She walked down the long hallway and stopped at the last door on the right. Taking a deep breath, she carefully twister the doorknob and peered inside at Rumplestiltskin, who slept with his back turned to her.

She bit her lip, conflicted. She should go right back to her room, get back in bed, and fall back asleep…shouldn't she? This was childish; thunderstorms were nothing but rain and nature being a little bit angry. She would get over her fear. Suddenly, the thunder boomed and she felt the floor shake beneath her feet. No longer debating, Belle stepped into the room and shut the door quietly behind her. She walked slowly over to the bed and tugged on Rumplestiltskin's sleeve. His dark eyes fluttered open.

"Belle, is everything alright?" he asked tiredly, blinking to adjust to the moonlight that filled the room.

"Yes, well, no. Actually, I'm scared of the storm." She whispered sheepishly, feeling stupid as she did so.

"You, scared? I hardly believe it." He whispered back with a sleepy smile.

"I know, I'm quite sorry, I just…I don't know why I came…I didn't want to bother you, I just…" she began, not knowing what to say. Rumplestiltskin said nothing. He moved over toward the middle of the bed and lifted up the cover, offering Belle the newly vacated space with his arm stretched across the pillow.

Blushing as she did so, Belle crawled into the spot and rested her neck on his arm, feeling instantly warmed and calmed. Presence made all the difference. Rumplestiltskin pulled the cover back down over them and put his other arm around her shoulders protectively. Belle's fear disappeared within seconds. She closed her eyes and slipped back into her deep sleep. This time, however, she had wonderful dreams.

Belle awoke the next morning to the bed empty beside her. Slightly disappointed, she looked toward the window to see the sun blazing. Always darkest before the dawn, she thought to herself as she sat up, stretching her arms above her head. She had the best sleep of her life last night. It was the first time she had slept in the same bed as another person since the days when her mother was alive. There was nothing like feeling protected, like feeling loved. She slid out of bed and left the room, walking back to her own room to freshen up for the day and change her clothes. She had been so upset the past few days because of her encounter with her father that she had let herself go. She felt sloppy and immature. Most of all, though, she felt embarrassed that Rumplestiltskin had seen her act so weak.

She walked down into the main chamber where they always spent time together. There he sat, spinning at the wheel. He stopped and turned around when he heard her come in, smiling as he saw her.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked as she approached. Belle gave him a wry grin.

"Yes, I did. Thank you," she took a deep breath, "I wanted to apologize for the way I have been acting these past couple of days. It was unprofessional and selfish of me."

Rumplestiltskin stood up, his brows furrowed, "Apologize for being human? That is nonsense, Belle. You are allowed to be sad; you are allowed to let your emotions take over sometimes." He came close to her, "do not ever apologize for being upset." Belle looked up at him self-consciously. For some reason, it did not completely bother her that he had seen her upset. With the exception of the first few weeks at the Dark Castle, Belle had been almost always cheerful and optimistic. Of course, it was in her nature, but at times, it had been hard. She felt the occasional pang of sadness whenever she thought of her father or friends at home, but she had found companionship and friendship in Rumplestiltskin, maybe more. She felt that there was more, she wanted to believe there was, but Rumplestiltskin was a man of enigma. He took pride in his trickery, in his ability to turn the tide whichever way he pleased. Perhaps he was toying with her emotions. Perhaps he found it amusing, a new plaything for his entertainment when he was bored with spinning…

No, there was more to it than that. There had to be, Belle thought. The way she caught him stealing glances at her while she read or swept. The way he said her name, Belle, rolling off his tongue with a sweet sound that seemed to constantly resonate in her mind. The way he held her in his arms when she had been hurt, the way he had so easily allowed her into his bed…there was undoubtedly more.

"Family can be difficult. I understand." he added, walking back towards the wheel. Belle noted the change his voice, the change in his posture. He had shifted from strong and supportive to gloomy, a cloud forming on his face. His pale lips formed a thin line. Upon every cloud, a silver lining.

"You had a family, didn't you?" Belle asked in a small voice. Rumplestiltskin faltered in-step.

There was silence that, although it was only a few seconds, felt like hours to Belle. She knew she shouldn't have gone down the path, but there was no taking it back now. He had seen her vulnerable, her emotions naked; she knew he could feel it, despite the curse. He was a human; he experienced emotions all the same. She did not want to see him upset, injured, or angry; she just wanted to know him, really know him. Was it too much to ask?

"Once, yes." he replied, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear. He continued to his destination, setting himself at the wheel, a withdrawn look painted on his face.

Belle followed him and settled herself on the small stool next to him, where she would usually sit, reading as he spun on the days that were content, calm, and simple. Today did not yet feel simple. She looked at him, reading the pain on his face like the longest tragedy ever written. She felt his sadness as if it were inside her too. She was torn; she wanted to know about his family, but she didn't want to upset him further. She was curious and yet, she was hesitant. She thought herself selfish; she wanted to discover the truth, but was afraid to learn if there was another before her, another girl…

"Would it," she paused, thinking carefully before she spoke, "would it hurt you to tell me about them?"

He slowly turned to her, his face expressionless. His mouth was even, his eyebrows straight, his eyes black as night. He did not look angry, he just looked blank. He looked like stone.

"Indeed it would."

"I'm sorry," Belle started to get up, ashamed of her prying, "I just…I-"

Rumplestiltskin touched her arm, his fingers gently clasping her forearm.

"Don't apologize, dearest. Talking about it will always hurt. Not now, but maybe in time." He said tenderly, his eyes softening. Belle gave him a slight, compassionate smile. She lightly ran her hand from his cheekbone and down his face to the corner of his jaw, her heart pounding as she did so.

"I'm a patient girl." She said, staring at him, trying her best to contain herself, when all she wanted to do was press her lips against his. Rumplestiltskin returned her smile wistfully.

"I know you are. 'Till then," he stood up from the wheel and offered her a crooked arm, "Take a walk through the garden with me?" Belle rose to meet his level and his eyes.

"I'd like nothing more." She said, slipping her arm through his. She leaned her head against his shoulder as they stepped outside into the light.