What ifffff Rumple had another reason to fake the heart not working for Daniel.

So here is a little something something. Me stretching my fingers, mostly.

Rated T.

Rumplestiltskin glanced over her slumbering frame. She had stayed at his castle for hours this morn, having spent most of it trying to convince him that she no longer harbored such silly notions as bringing her dead beau back to life; but she forgets — and quite often too — that he knows her better than she knows herself.

He had put many measures in place for her little idea to not work. Convincing Victor to fake such a thing had been easy; he needed a magical heart and the love he bore for his brother could cause him to do or say anything just to help bring him back to life.

But the imp knew, he knew what would come of the brother the second the heart was within his chest cavity. The same thing would happen to Daniel and Regina, he knew, would be reduced to choosing to kill the man she believes she loves or die trying to soothe a beast that could do more damage than not to the young budding apprentice. She had yet to be able to rip a heart from a chest, even if Rumplestiltskin knew she were capable, she wouldn't have time to rip out Daniel's and crush it before he could crush her.

Regardless of having the need to save her life, he would make sure the two involved thought his intentions were the ones that would push her to become darker, set on her revenge. And the fact of him wanting to save her life would go unmentioned to anyone, he would keep that secret with him.

Ignorance is bliss; he reminded himself as he tried to shake the glimpse into that version of the future out of his head, the images were churning his stomach, seeing Regina covered in blood and begging someone who was no longer there to stop and halt and-

Sighing, Rumplestiltskin stepped out from the shadows and closer to the bed in which his future monster was laying, her face devoid of the evil glint or confidence the Queen would have within a short time. Instead, what his eyes washed over, was a desperate and confused young woman. The entirety of her frame screamed to him to reach out and soothe the nerves that had been damaged on her journey to him, her eyes looked swollen as if she had been crying before falling into a deep sleep. Her fingers were curled in a fist, gripping at the soft blankets that covered her from gazing eyes.

Reaching out, he gingerly ran the back of his fingertips along her cheek and with the slightest of effort he closed his eyes and channeled his magic into her, painting a picture perfect dream that he hoped would help soothe the ache her heart went through during the daytime.

As soon as he felt the body beneath his fingertips give, push back against his magic, he broke off the channeling — knowing that he had put enough into it, as much as she could handle, so that it would last for the next few hours as she slept. Using her in this way always caused his heart pain and yet they had been here before, in this same dance, but it was high time they got it right.

"Sleep well, Regina."

His voice was but a whisper and yet he watched as her body responded to him when her mind couldn't. Her lips tugged into a sleep, drowsy and slanted, smile that only helped soothe his guilt. That would be enough, the slight touches — the soft smiles, to tide him over for the day and keep him from venting his woes in a spinning session.

Drifting back into the shadows of her room, he closed his eyes and allowed his magic to find the dreams he placed in her mind — he stood there, silently, watching as she lived a life without magic within the safety of her mind. The world he had built for her dreams so that she could go there anytime her body would need a release, a moment of peace and maybe — just maybe — he would join her there on nights he felt more like the man he had been long ago.