It had been a week since Belle had strolled out of his life, almost as suddenly as she had entered it. The dark Castle had returned to the bleak , cold, prison it had been before she had came. Rumple had made sure there were no traces of her anywhere in the Castle, nothing that would remind him that she had existed at all. Maybe she hadn't existed, Maybe it had all been a dream he thought one morning as he woke up. More like a bloody nightmare. He arose and drug his body to the great hall as if his boots were fashioned out of lead.

How could he have been so gulible, to believe anyone would care about him. He sat at the dinning table pretending to drink tea that had long grown cold. He didn't seem to care. It was like the rest of his life, the warmth had faded away. He found himself in a trance of sorts, staring at his tea cup. It alone had survived when the rest of it's set had been demolished the day Belle had dropped them. This one had gotten away unscathed, well almost, it had suffered a small chip. Belle was going to throw it away with the others but Rumple had saved it in an attempt to make her feel better, that it hadn't been a total loss. After that the chipped cup was the only one he'd drink from. Much to her amazment he had even put a spell on the cup that it couldn't be harmed ever again, never breaking, never developing a small crack where the cip had weakened causing the fine porcelian to split, rendering the cup useless. Belle had smiled through a veil of tears at that, he would have done anything to be favored with one of her smiles now.

He turned the cup in his nimble fingers, back and forth, the only evidence of her time here. Now she was gone, he closed his eyes thinking of thier last night together, what he had felt growing in her womb, a tiny secret, gone. He squeezed the cup in his hand, hoping it would just shatter like his heart.

At once he jumped up from his chair knocking it over and launched the accursed cup at the glass doors of a large cabinet on the other side of the room. Glass shattered, shards flying in all directions but the cup rolled to the floor and up under the cabinet itself, unharmed. Rumple ran over to the broken cabinet and falling to his hands and knees, glass be dammed, stuck his hand under, reaching for the cup. It was the only thing left he had of hers. the rest of it he had demolished. It had started the morning she had left, wrecking all the rooms she had pain stakingly cleaned with such womanly precision. The kitchen was no longer pristine, dishes lay shattered, thier pieces littered the floor like the glass in the dinning hall.

His fingers could barley touch it but with some effort he retrieved it, pulling it out of it's hiding place. He held it close to him, cradling it as if were a baby, thier child, he had lost it, as he did it's mother. then when he could hold it in no longer a fierce but injured howl erupted from him. He needed release. He cried out till his lungs burned in his heaving chest and when it extinguished, he fell to the floor amist the glass and spintered wood, holding thier cup, his body wrapped around it like some sort of cuccoon. He finally drifted off into blackness for awhile, it was his one escape from her memory, the blackness was peace.

xoxoxoxoxo

At first Rumple thought the pounding was only in his head. But as he lay there, wallowing in self pity , he realized the pounding was accompanied by his name being repeatedly shouted. He sat up cringing at the sound of his name, nobody said the "R" word unless they had a deal to make. Well, he wasn't making deals today. He got to his feet, crushing any remaining shards under his boots as he stomped to the door with fire in his veins. Whatever was standing behind the door was soon to be sorry, very sorry for disturbing him.

The old seamstress and her young apprentice jumped back in fear as Rumple all but tore the door from the frame, his name dying in the old woman's mouth as his fierce eyes glared at her from the entrance way. "PLEASE, say my name once more old woman so I can gladly turn you into a slug." his voice on edge and with this high pitched manic tone to it, daring her.

"Oh, Please sir" the old woman begged, "We are only here to bring the young missy her things. I have them all right here" she pointed to the packages on the back of the wagon they had came there on. Rumple glared at the wagon a moment then back at the two intruding women who stood petrified looking back at him while each one secretly hoped the young lady who had accompanied him to the dress shop would somehow appear and save them. After a moment he spoke, obviously much calmer. "Bring them in then." He turned and disappeared into the castle beyond thier sight.

After the women scurried about, bringing in the packages and depositing them by the door, they quickly left professing to each other never would they return after that day.

Rum stood and blankly stared at Belle's things for what seemed like hours. He closed his eyes remembering the day he had given her the library. She had been so happy. He could still feel the silky touch of the shirt she wore. his fingers gliding up and down her back haunted him, he just needed to forget it for awhile, he needed to spin. It had been his profession before the ogre wars. Before he had took the dark powers upon himself trying to find a way to stop the wars, to free his people. But after all his efforts those same people shunned him, they shrank from him. He craved peace so he spun straw into gold, trying to forget. He spun the rest of the afternoon and well up into evening, not bothering to eat. But every once in a while he would glance up toward the door of the hall to find Belle's packages, staring back at him. He could feel the fury building up inside his gut as he looked down to see the straw bunched up, clogging his wheel, stopping the flow of gold into his waiting basket underneath.

In one swift motion he jumped up and kicked his spinning wheel with all his strength, sending it flying across the room. The wheel detached from the frame, spinning like a top before finally finding it's resting place on the floor. Rumple's chest heaved up and down with the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he let out a strangled cry of anguish and went up the stairs with clenched fists, his blood dribbling on the floor from his claws digging into his palms, he went to her room, well, his room.

{ a tall powerfully built man with his face in shadow shook his Belle then drawing his massive hand back, slapped her across the face knocking her to her knees.} Rumple thrashed about as he dreamed, watching the vision before him in horror. { He stood there helpless as the shadow man pulled Belle roughly to her feet, half dragging her to a cold cell, there attaching her to chains hanging from the celing. She hung there limply as her face already started to discolor from the brutal slap the man had delivered earlier. Rumple stood transfixed as the man left for a brief time while he watched Belle just hang there, her feet touching the ground only with her toes, while she cried his name quietly. Soon the man returned with what looked like some sort of ridding crop, a whip. Rumple cried out to her as the dark shadow man took Belle's dress in both hands and ripped the fabric apart, exposing the soft skin of her back. he could only watch as the first strike made Belle scream out.}

Rumple awake in a cold sweat, jumping out of bed in one leap, panic shot through him but only the dark bedroom was there. He sat on the side of the bed breathing heavily, trying to collect his thoughts. She had been calling for him, she was hurt, she needed him. He started getting dressed quickly, pulling on his boots, if she needed him then he dammed well would get to her, it meant the difference between life and death not only for her but thier babe growing in secret inside her.

Rumple jerked open his wardrobe, grapping his black cloak and in one smooth motion he swung it around his shoulders, clasping it at his neck. He left the castle in the dead of night to find his Belle at any cost, before it was too late.