A/N: So sorry for the wait! But it's finally here: the conclusion to Gone Forever. I know I left a lot of gaps in this story, so if you have any prompts for this verse, I will consider doing some one-shots for it.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 12

"For you... I would be the best man I can be."

- Rumplestiltskin (6.01 The Savior)

Today had been a better day on the whole than any other day that month. When he'd woken from what Dr. Whale called a coma, Rumple's limbs had been stiff and heavy. The first time he tried to get out of bed, he'd nearly fallen because his legs refused to support him. Thank the gods he didn't know any of the nurses. It was bad enough having to listen to Whale harp on the "wonders of science" reviving the Dark One without having to suffer the nurses' condescending assistance with basic tasks as well. As it was, they remained professional, as if he was just another grumpy patient among many.

The worst part had been the magic-dampening cuff on his wrist. It had been there since before he woke, and no one would remove it for him. That first day, he'd been certain the cuff was to blame for his physical weakness. But each day, his strength returned until he was able to move about without assistance. He could leave here tomorrow if only the cricket would just sign off on his release.

It wasn't that easy, though. Try as he might to hide his grief, Rumple always had the strange sense that Hopper knew about his visions. Be they ghosts or hallucinations, no doctor in his right mind would let an unhinged Dark One loose on the town, cuff or no.

It didn't help that Rumple was beginning to think they'd never go away completely. It was frightening how normal seeing dead loved ones seemed. After all, it really wasn't too different from seeing manifestations of former Dark Ones. The only thing reminding him it wasn't real was Bae's continued absence. He'd heard his voice at the canyon, and yet neither Belle nor Henry had been able to answer his questions about why Bae hadn't visited. Hallucinations they may be, but Rumplestiltskin preferred their company to the prospect of living the rest of his long life alone and purposeless.

The Apprentice's visit with Dr. Hopper had been the most interesting thing to happen all month, so he was surprised to see him back so soon, unaccompanied.

"Hello, Dark One," the old man said, handing him a large, leather-bound book. "I expect you know what this is?"

The weight of it was heavy in his lap. As if on cue, his grandson's ghost appeared in the doorway, watching. Rumple swallowed, looking up at the Apprentice and trying his best to ignore the vision that lingered in the corner of his eye. "Of course I do. One of your master's storybooks."

"Open it, Rumplestiltskin."

A whisper of fear shot through him. The Sorcerer had always been the enemy of the Dark Ones, all the way back to the very first. Was this some trick to finish him off while the cuff held him helpless?

The Apprentice must have seen his distrust in his face. "It's not a trick."

Scowling at having been read so easily, Rumple opened the book. Inside was sloppy, unrefined handwriting, far from the careful script he'd expected. There were no pictures either, unlike the book Henry had taken to carrying everywhere back when Emma first came to town. He paused and began to read.

Much of it made little sense, snippets of life in Storybrooke that had never happened, and some that seemed highly unlikely given the personalities of those mentioned. He seemed to be the focus of the writer's intentions, with a healthy dose of Regina and Robin thrown in for good measure. He couldn't figure out why though until he started to notice the prevalence of "I'm sorry" and "please wake up" and finally "Grandpa".

In spite of his determination not to show weakness in front of a lifelong adversary, Rumple's fingers drifted up to brush across the words. Henry. This was his book, his writing, and from the look of it, he had been trying to find a way to wake Rumple from his... trance? coma? … which Henry seemed to believe he'd caused. Rumple frowned. It must be a trick of some kind. The only way Henry could possibly have written this was if...

Rumple quit breathing, his heartbeat accelerating with a rush of not-quite fear. He was here.

He was here the whole time.

Rumple looked up from the book and straight at his grandson lingering in the doorway. The boy took a half step back, looking as nervous as Rumple felt. "H-Henry?" he stuttered. "Y-You... Y-You're real? You're alive?"

Henry released the breath he'd been holding and smiled. "Yeah. Welcome back."

Rumple blinked as his vision blurred with unshed tears. He reached out a trembling hand and sobbed when his grandson came to him. He pulled him close and wrapped him in a hug, sobbing again when he felt Henry hug him back. "You beautiful boy," he whispered. "You saved me."

Henry's reply was muffled until Rumple relaxed his grip on him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know anything would happen. It was just a book."

Rumple patted the boy's shoulder. "Hush, now. Sometime soon, you'll have to tell me everything that happened, but for now I've got two questions for you."

Henry nodded.

Rumple hesitated only a moment, both dreading and needing an answer. In the end he couldn't even form a proper question. "Belle...?"

Henry's eyes widened. "Oh, right. No. I mean, yes," he rushed to correct his slip when he realized how it sounded. "Yes, she's okay. She's really been here the whole time, too. Just before you woke, she even tried True Love's Kiss, but because everything was happening at once, we don't know what actually woke you."

"I see," Rumple said. "That explains the good doctor's insufferable smugness since then." He drummed his fingers on the book in his lap. "But that still leaves my other question." He watched Henry squirm, shifting from foot to foot as though expecting a scolding, and smirked. "How could my grandson think that anything in the Sorcerer's mansion could be just a book?" He changed the inflection of his voice at the end and twirled a hand in the air in the hopes of getting the boy to smile. He ended with his head tilted to one side and a soft smile on his lips as he observed the meaning of his question sinking in.

Finally, Henry seemed to relax. "Oh. Yeah, I guess that was a little silly, wasn't it?" He let out a tiny breath of a laugh, one that told Rumplestiltskin that he still hadn't forgiven himself yet, but that was to be expected. Regina had raised a good kid, despite being the Evil Queen.

Movement in the doorway caught his eye, and his contentment evaporated. He didn't know when the Apprentice had left the room, but now here was Belle, and he didn't know what to say. How was he supposed to face the wife who had banished him with his own dagger?

"Hey," she said, stopping just inside the door. Rumple just stared.

Henry looked between them and headed for the door. "I'll just let you two talk, okay?" He was gone before Rumple could stop him.

Belle came to sit beside him. "I hear I'm not a ghost anymore," she said with a teasing smile.

Rumple flinched. "Belle, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay."

"No. It's not." He sighed. "I'm still not sure how much of it was real."

"Rumple, you were here the whole time."

"My body was, yes. I believe that now. But there are places just as real that don't require physical travel to get to. The sleeping curse is proof of that."

She reached out a hand to touch his arm. The comforting gesture reminded him of the topic he'd rather avoid but needed to resolve. He drew hope and strength from her touch and looked into her eyes as he spoke. "Belle, I know that not wanting me to die isn't the same as wanting to be with me." He wanted to go on, but couldn't find the words.

Belle frowned, but didn't withdraw her hand. "Rumple, there's too much broken trust."

He looked down, rubbing the cuff on his wrist as habitually as if it hadn't been there for only a month. "I know," he said. "I know. But I don't want to give up. I want to be the man you deserve." He pressed on before she could reject him again. "I don't need an answer now. Just promise me you'll consider allowing me the chance to start again, like we did after the first curse."

Belle was silent. When he dared to look up, he found her studying the rose on his bedside table. He wondered for a moment what had caught her attention. The rose had been there since he woke, always floating beneath its glass dome, always with those three petals fallen on the base. In the month he'd been here, it had never changed. So why did Belle find it more interesting than his attempt at reconciliation?

But then he saw what she must have seen. Two of the fallen petals had reattached themselves, though one looked perilously close to falling again, held on by the barest of fibers.

"If you like it so much, you can keep it," he said, stopping just short of letting a derisive dearie slip past his lips. She didn't deserve his scorn. He'd been horrid to her and Henry both for the past month, believing them to be imaginary when in fact they'd stood by him, put up with his nonsense, and never gave up on him.

Belle turned to him, shocked. "Rumple, that's not..." She stopped, shaking her head. "You know what, fine. You can try to earn my trust back, but if we're going to do this, it has to be your choice." She reached for his hand and removed the cuff from his wrist. "You have to decide what matters more to you: me or your power." She put the cuff in her purse, but surprised him when she pulled out his dagger and laid it on the table beside the rose.

Rumple knew he should feel something with the cuff gone and the dagger ostensibly back in his control, but nothing had changed. No rush of magic like a long-denied breath of fresh air. No whispers from the dagger or voices in his head. He reached for the dagger and turned it over in his hands. The decorative pattern covered both sides of the blade.

A hazy memory resurfaced, seeing the Imp on the far side of the canyon bridge. Was the Dark One finally dead? Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure how to feel about that. Could he truly learn to live without magic? Or would he be able to use light magic now, like Regina?

He saw Belle get up to leave, and called out to her. She paused and looked back. A thousand things to say rushed through his mind. Did she know he wasn't the Dark One anymore? How long had the dagger been blank?

In the end, all he could say was, "I'll try."

The End.