A.N. This chapter was inspired directly from Robert Carlyle's incredible performance last Sunday.

APPENDIX 5: MR. GOLD TELLS BELLE THE FULL TRUTH

Belle and Mr. Gold entered the shop.

He allowed her to search through the room, showing her some of his favorites, she commenting on those she remembered from his castle. Then he led her to the back room.

She sat on top of his desk and asked, "Now what's next in the plan?

"I think we just wait to hear from Ashley," Mr. Gold answered, "or wait for someone else to come."

"Mr. Booth?"

"Maybe. I'm sure Emma's gone straight to him."

Belle tied back her hair again. And stared at him.

"Yes?" Me Gold asked, rather dreading the question. This look of Belle's was usually followed with an uncomfortable question or observation. He had a suspicion of what it was.

"A ring!" Belle stated. He was right. "Everyone I've met has brought it up."

"A ring will mean we are engaged, Belle," he told her quietly.

"Aren't we?" He did not answer. Her voice rose, "We decided, Rumpelstilskin, that we would be together again."

"I agree." Then he went back to his silence.

Belle looked at him and he saw the realization dawning. She said, "You don't want to marry me."

"No, I didn't say that." Yet he turned from her

"I want to marry you, Belle," he said, "but there's one thing I want more."

Her eyes narrowed, angry tears forming, "Please don't say it is power."

"No," he said softly. "It is not my power, not only."

Belle's voice got slower, and dangerous, "Your power? Not only? I thought we broke you away from the curse."

"The Storybrooke one, for us," Mr. Gold admitted. "But not mine. I will be the same Rumpelstilskin when we go home."

"Well then," Belle said, but her uncertainty showed in her eyes. "What's to worry? The first thing we'll do is kiss."

Mr. Gold shook his head.

"After everything?" Belle looked steadily at him, "you still want your power more than me!"

He walked to her, taking her hands. She snatched them away, angry tears burned her eyes now.

"Very well," he nodded, then continued, "Remember, Belle, when you asked me about my son?"

"Yes," she still looked right him letting the hot tears pour down her face, "you said you lost him."

"Yes, I did. I lost him." Mr. Gold explained. "He did not die."

"Your son is still living?"

"He is."

"And is your wife, too?" she accused. You 'lost' her as well!"

"No," he answered. "She died soon after she left me. The forbidden fruit of 'freedom from our marriage,' was not kind to her. She came home to die." So long ago. "My son though still lives, and I need to find him." His eyes pleaded, "I'll need magic to do that."

Belle stood as though frozen. "Why did you wait to tell me?"

He looked away, gesturing hopelessly. "I suppose I needed the right moment. We need to break the Storybrooke curse. "

Belle shook her head, "Twenty Eight years and we reunite only to have you leave me?"

"I'm not leaving you!" Mr. Gold insisted, but still so quietly.

"I will not stay with the Dark Power still in you!"

He looked down, tears now in his eyes, "I don't want to be that creature again, Belle." His eyes found hers, "I love you. I want to be with you. But I also want to find my son."

She still held his eyes, her angry tears flowing.

He sighed and walked away from her to a cabinet. He took out a small box, and set it on the table

"I got it years ago. It reminded me of your eyes," his voice cracked, and tears were coming. He swallowed and got control of himself.

"Let me tell the story," he said. "And it will be yours, if you still want it."

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Belle clutched her handkerchief, and he used his own. Both of their eyes were red, nearly raw with the weeping. It must have been an hour.

Then, resolutely, she finished, and wiping her eyes, strode over to the table and opened the box. Mr. Gold had said that there was no magic in Storybrooke. How could he say that with such an otherworldly jewel? She stared at it while he just sat and watched. Then she reached out, took the ring, and slipped it on her finger. She turned and walked to where Mr. Gold was sitting and wrapped her arms around him. He clutched at her, tears flowing again.

"Until you came, I really didn't care about anything," he said against her heart, "and I never thought, never thought you could love me. You shouldn't still love me!"

"How could I not? You're my first love, my only love." And their lips found each other, not sensual, not chaste, just desperate and they pressed closer.

He now held her to his chest, "I'll give you everything," he wiped his eyes, "anything. You can take my gold. Travel as you've always wanted to, as I've wanted you to. Be happy!" He took her head in his, "No one I know of in any world deserves more to be at peace, secure, and safe. Promise me!"

Belle nodded, "I will. I will! I swear." Their tears and sobs mingled. Now she grabbed both sides of his head and said, "And when you find Baelfire, I'll be waiting for you, to welcome you home with a kiss!"

And there was more crying, clinging, kissing, holding, as close as they could be and sobbing out all the poison and pain of countless years.

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Belle was in the restroom, splashing water on her face, exhausted by the afternoon's emotion, when she heard a loud banging on the door.

"Gold! Gold! I know you're in there!"

She heard the cane which signaled the limping walk of Mr. Gold. She looked out as he pulled aside the curtain of the door to see the face of Booth.

"P- off!" Gold told him matter-of-factly, and closed the curtain again walking back to his desk. "Not today," he muttered to himself.

And Belle laughed. And laughed.