A/N: I just realized that the title could be about Baelfire. Weird...
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"Do you want to go out today, Isabelle?" He almost slips up and says 'Belle' again. Mr. Gold finds he has to be even more careful in this world than the last. Because here she doesn't really know him, and a slip-up means she really is gone forever.
"Okay," She's getting a bit more talkative. But still, the most she musters is a whisper, and only looks at him half the time. Not-Belle (he really needs to stop calling her that in his head) only uses clipped sentences, like she's afraid she'll give away some sort of secret.
"We could go to my shop," He suggests. Isabelle seems rather alright with that. Then she shuffles upstairs to have a shower, because she can't seem to remember the last time she had one. When she returns, she's wearing a green dress, and her hair is lose and sopping wet.
"I can go out and get a hair drier, if you'd like." Mr. Gold suggests, plucking up a comb for her tangled hair.
"No." She says. It isn't much louder than her usual statements, but Isabelle's voice is so firm he thinks she's coming back to her complete sanity -because by now he's sure she's at least mentally unhinged.
He goes back to detangling her hair, risking glances at her dress. It's a perfect emerald green, but the style is so much like his Belle's it hurts a little to look at. The brown trim is there, and the white puffed sleeves. He resisted buying it because it looked so much like Belle's, but in the end he couldn't help it. Mr. Gold had hoped she wouldn't wear it. But she did.
"There," He declares. Now that her hair is clean and drying, it's almost reverted back to his Belle's old curls. "Now let's get that hair out of you face, dear." Mr. Gold's fingers betrayed the tiniest tremor as he reached for her brown curls.
Isabelle flinched away, reminding him all too much that this was not Belle and he was not quite Rumpelstiltskin.
"Why?" Her fingers curled and she gave him that cautious look that was not quite right in Belle's eyes.
He smiled, twisting a lock of her hair between his fingers absently. "Oh." Mr. Gold felt his tone turn almost scolding with that word. "You have a beautiful face, dearie. Why try to hide it?" He flicked one of the chestnut curls and stood to get his shop keys. Over the years of frozen time he had adjusted to not being able to conjure Rumplestiltskin's laugh and voice quirks. But now he felt terribly burdened without it.
Mr. Gold glanced at Belle. She'd tied her hair back after all. He brought his Belle to mind and decided there was some sort of carefully styled knot pulling her hair back. Isabelle had done something else with it, brought the strands back in little braids maybe.
Then Isabelle gets to her feet, teetering slightly, and grips his arm. Mr. Gold has found that this is their usual way of walking, her leaning on him and him on his cane.
Isabelle sat herself behind an empty birdcage in the back the moment they entered the shop. It was one of the odd items he didn't remember gaining, like the tiny carousal, or the glass mobile with the little unicorns he was certain came from the palace of Snow White and Prince Charming.
Mr. Gold situated himself at the counter, just starting to organize his files when the bell over the door dinged.
"Mr. Gold!" Ah yes, Emma Swan had decided to pay him a visit.
"Miss Swan, how lovely. To what do I owe this occasion?" He hardly glanced up from his files.
Her eyes were bright with anger. "You burned down the hospital." She pointed an accusing finger at him.
"And what motive have you devised for me this time?" Mr. Gold inquired. "I don't have time to deal with you today," He almost laughed at the double meaning to that statement. "I have a guest."
Emma's anger slammed to a halt, like she'd hit a glass door. The Sheriff's eyes darted around until she found Belle-Isabelle, he found himself correcting yet again- sitting quietly behind the bird cage.
Miss Swan's eyes swept to shock as she placed the face she must have seen yesterday, and the haunted look Isabelle carried about her.
"They're letting you keep a mental patient in your house?" Emma hissed. "After you nearly beat a man to death!"
"A man that did not press charges. It would seem that I am perfectly capable of housing her. Now if you'll please leave, you're scaring my guest." And Isabelle did indeed look terrified. Whether or not she heard that part about Moe French, Isabelle was giving Emma that half-terrified half-curious look that meant she was about to bolt.
"Fine." Emma said, tipping her chin upward resolutely. "But if I find out you're mistreating her in any way..." She left that sentence hanging, assuring that her Sheriff's badge glinted in the dim light of his shop.
"Which you won't." He muttered with a grim smile as the bell chimed again. Bell. Mr. Gold scowled, almost certain Regina had taken that little precaution when the curse designed his shop to remind him. Bell. Belle. Bell. Belle.
There were no more customers that day, which was fine with him. He had acquired the odd habit of always having more wealth than he needed, and it was a habit he found he couldn't break. Rumplestiltskin had it too.
"You've spun straw into more gold than you could ever spend."
Yes, Rumplestiltskin had it too.
A/N: I'm not really happy with the ending, but I wanted to put something up, what with all the things I need to update. Anyway, I'd just like to say thank you to everyone who reviewed! I hate to beg, but they are very appreciated :)