Title: Of Dreams and Awakenings
Rating: T
Word count: ~51k
Characters: Belle/Isabelle French, Mr Gold/Rumplestiltskin, Mary Margaret, Emma Swan, Archie Hopper, Henry Mills, Regina Mills, Moe French, various other Storybrooke characters.
Pairing: Belle/Rumplstiltskin (Isabelle/Mr Gold)
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise from 'Once Upon A Time' does not belong to me.
Belle smiles when she sees Henry waiting outside Archie's office; she joins him on the sofa in the waiting area, leans in and nudges his shoulder with hers.
"Hey you," she says. "What're you still doing here?"
"I have to wait for my mom to pick me up," says Henry with a long-suffering sigh. "And she's late."
"Well, I'm early," Belle says. "And I wanted to talk to you, actually." She glances up, makes sure they're alone. "About your book."
Henry's look is wary. "What about it?" he asks, and Belle wonders who else knows about Henry's theory – wonders who has dismissed it. Then she realises she doesn't need to wonder; Henry is here, after all. He's in therapy, and there's only one woman who could arrange that. His mother knows his theory, and that…could be very dangerous.
Belle tries to decide what to say, weighs her words carefully. Finally she finds the right words, the right phrasing, and she smiles down at Henry.
"So the story isn't over," she says. "My story, I mean." Henry's frowning, confused, and Belle's smile widens into a grin. "I told you Beauty would have stayed," she says. "If he'd let her. Well…the story wasn't over. Your book doesn't have all the endings."
Henry narrows his eyes, frowns up at her. "What do you mean?" he asks. He's sceptical, hesitant, and it's clear he's been rebuffed before.
"I mean," says Belle, "my name is Belle. And my father was Sir Maurice." His mouth drops open, his eyes widen, and Belle nods her head. "I remember, Henry," she says. "I remember who I am."
"But – but how?" he asks, and he glances around as she had a few minutes before, looks at Archie's closed office door and then towards the building's front door. Belle looks there too, makes sure Regina Mills isn't visible. "I don't understand," Henry says then. "How do you remember? The curse –"
"All curses can be broken," Belle interrupts him. "But…no. This doesn't mean the curse is broken." She has that on good authority – Rumplestiltskin has investigated it thoroughly. Nobody else shows any sign of remembering, nor does the fabric of the curse itself seem to be disintegrating. Magic, he told her, works differently in this world but there is enough of it there for someone like him to feel it. He hadn't expected it, but magic is here and he, the creator of the curse, can feel its composition, its strengths and weaknesses.
The curse is not breaking because she kissed Mr Gold; only Emma can break it, and she is already doing so, although she doesn't know it.
"Do you know about true love's kiss?" she asks Henry, and he nods, thoughtful.
"Yes," he says. "I thought maybe when Mr Nolan woke up, and he and Mary Margaret kissed, they might remember then. But they didn't." He swings his legs a little, glances up at her again. "Did you find your true love?" he asks.
"Yes," says Belle, and she can't help smiling again. Yes, she has found her true love, and it's been two days since they kissed and her heart and body sing with the happiness she has discovered. "Yes," she says again. "And…and it made me remember." Her smile fades a little; the moment of remembrance is still painful, still full of sharp, jagged edges in her mind. Things are settling, a little, but there is still so much that hurts to think of – so much she can't make sense of yet.
"Who?" Henry asks excitedly. "Who was it? Does he remember too? Maybe it does mean the curse is breaking!"
"No, Henry," Belle says; she hates to crush his excitement, his enthusiasm, but false hope is crueller. "I'm sorry, but this – me – it doesn't mean the curse is breaking any faster." It is breaking – Rumplestiltskin had told her that – but not because of her, or because of their kiss. It's breaking, slowly, because of Emma. "You know your mom – your real mom – is the only person who can do that," she says.
"Did you know about it?" Henry asks her. "In the Enchanted Forest – did you know Snow White and Prince Charming?" Belle shakes her head. She won't tell Henry about her knowledge of his adopted mother, the Queen; it would only hurt him. "Then how do you know all about the curse?"
"I…" Belle hesitates. Rumplestiltskin hadn't told her not to talk of his involvement, but somehow she feels it would be a bad idea, to reveal all his secrets to Regina's son. "Do you mind if I don't tell you that?" she asks. "It's not really my secret, and I…I haven't talked to him about talking to you."
"You won't even tell me who he is?" Henry's deflating, his happiness ebbing away as he realises she can't, won't, explain how she knows about the curse. He wants to talk about it, that's clear; Emma knows, and Mary Margaret, but neither of them believe him. Belle does, and she can see how much that means to Henry. To know there is another person who knows, who believes, but not to know who he is…that must be difficult for the boy.
But it's not her secret; and she cannot reveal Rumplestiltskin's secrets to Henry. He is a good child, Emma's child, but he is Regina's son and he lives with her. He would not mean to, but some secret might slip from his mouth or be betrayed by his actions.
"I'll talk to him about it," she promised. "I will. But do you see why I can't just tell you?"
Henry scowls. "Because of my mom," he says. "I get it. But I wouldn't say anything – you know I wouldn't."
"You wouldn't mean to," says Belle gently. "But we can't risk it, Henry."
"You knew her," Henry says, barely a murmur. "Didn't you? My mom – the evil queen." Belle turns her face away from him, shivers. "I know she locked you up here," Henry goes on. "She told me she did it for your protection, but I know she was lying. Did she lock you up there, as well?"
"Henry," says Belle, her tone curt although she doesn't mean it to be, "don't ask me about that. No matter what else she's done, she's your mom here. You live with her. I know you care about her at least a little bit. So don't ask me."
Henry doesn't say anything, and Belle risks a glance back at him. He's frowning still, but thoughtful again, and when he meets her eyes he seems to have accepted what she's said. She tries to smile, but it doesn't quite fit on her face, feels oddly stilted, so she lets the smile fade.
"I wanted you to know that I know," she says. "Because I know how it feels to be alone."
Henry nods. "Yeah," he says. "I mean, Emma and Mary Margaret know, and Dr Hopper…but they don't believe me. But you do? You really believe?"
"I don't believe," says Belle, "I know. I remember my life there, Henry. It's not a case of belief. I know it's true." Henry grins, nods again, and Belle's smile comes easier now. "And things are changing," she says. "You know they are. The curse may not be broken yet, but there are cracks."
"I know," says Henry. "It's Emma – my real mom. She's changing things. Like…like the clock started working when she decided to stay, and Mr Nolan woke up, and you came out of the hospital."
"Exactly," says Belle with a nod. "Things are changing. It's only a matter of time."
"I thought once she was here, things would happen quicker," Henry mumbles. "But it's been months now and…things are just as bad as ever."
"Oh, don't say that," Belle entreats. "Not for me, they're not. Look at all the changes that have happened for me. Emma got me out of the hospital, and now I have my real memories back…that's a lot of change, Henry. And sometimes...sometimes change is slow. Sometimes that's just the way it is. But it only means it'll be stronger in the end."
"I guess," he sighs. "I just…I want everyone to remember. To have their happy endings again."
"Don't give up hope, Henry," Belle says. "Emma is changing things, all the time, in lots of little ways. It'll build up. The curse is going to break. It was designed to be broken, you know, by Emma – and now is the right time for it."
Henry starts to say something else but the door to the office opens, revealing Archie, frowning a little when he sees Henry sitting next to Belle.
"Henry," he says. "Is your mother not here yet?" He checks his watch, and the frown deepens. "She's not usually late, is she?"
"No," confirms Henry. "But I guess everything has a first time, right?"
Archie's frown fades into a smile, a nod. "Right," he says. "Are you alright waiting out here? Do you have something to read, or…"
"I have spellings to learn for school," Henry says, reaching down to his rucksack and pulling out a rather tattered piece of paper. "I'll be fine. And I promise I won't go before she gets here." A flash of a grin, a secret shared between them that Belle isn't party to, but she doesn't mind. There are things Belle tells Archie that she doesn't tell anyone else; that's his role, after all.
"Alright," Archie says. "Are you ready, Isabelle?"
"Sure," says Belle. She has to wrap herself up in Isabelle now, has to tuck Belle away and concentrate just on the looped, faked memories of the past twenty-eight years, the lifetime she has lived or remembers living as Isabelle French.
She must, if not bury the memories of her true self, at least disguise them in the life given to her by the curse.
"Thank you," says Henry. "For…telling me."
Isabelle nods, smiles. "Of course," she says. "I'll see you soon, Henry." She stands up, moves towards Archie's office and then pauses, glances back. "You probably shouldn't tell your mom we were talking," she says. "She's not exactly my biggest fan."
Henry rolls his eyes but nods. "I won't," he says, a promise that she knows he'll keep. Henry Mills, son of Emma Swan, grandchild to Snow White. He knows the value of a promise, and he will keep it.
She wonders, just for a moment, what Rumplestiltskin thinks of the young prince. He hadn't really talked about Henry – they've had other things to talk about, things more immediate and more intimate. She thinks, somehow, that Rumplestiltskin would like Henry.
"Isabelle?" says Archie expectantly, and Isabelle smiles, steps past him into the office, takes her accustomed seat. Archie closes the door, goes to his own chair, offers her a smile. "How are you today, Isabelle?"
"Not too bad, today," says Isabelle.