Tempted Chapter Seven, an once upon a time fanfic

Here we are at Chapter Seven. This chapter features an original song written by Tristan, well, me. I am not a songwriter: this is the first time I have ever written a song, so please bear that in mind when you read this! Hopefully it's not complete crap! Thanks so much for reading and for all the lovely feedback so far :)

Tempted

Chapter Seven

'What happened?' Jefferson saw the look on Tristan's face when he came back in, and Belle hadn't come back with him, so something terrible had happened.

Gold glared at Jefferson. 'Don't fucking ask.'

'Tristan…'

'I said fucking leave it, alright.' He downed the Scotch and poured himself another. He downed that too and then caught sight of Zelena. Maybe she was exactly what he needed to forget about Belle: the complete opposite of the glorious woman who haunted his dreams, and who he could never have.

'No, Tristan,' Jefferson hissed, seeing what he was going to do: 'don't.'

'Fuck off and don't tell me what to do,' Gold snarled.

'What about Belle?'

'What about her?' he snapped.

Jefferson studied his friend. He was obviously upset and Jefferson knew that talking would help him more than drinking and making the worst mistake of his life with that airhead Zelena.

'What happened, Tristan?' he demanded now.

Tristan shot him a miserable look. 'She doesn't want anything to do with me. She fucking kisses me and then tells me she wants nothing to do with me. What the fuck am I supposed to make of that?'

Jefferson looked at him. He was obviously really hung up on her and he knew he had to try to make him feel better about it all.

'Maybe she just got scared,' he suggested. 'You're kind of a big deal now, Trist: maybe she thought she wasn't good enough or something.'

Gold stared at him, disbelieving. 'Belle not good enough for me? Come off it, Jeff.'

'I'm serious, Tristan. I know I don't know her as well as you do, but even I can see she's fragile. Maybe she's afraid you'll move on, get really famous and forget her.'

The more Jefferson said, the more he believed that what he was saying was true. Belle believed he'd move on, and she was scared of getting attached because of that.

'You're crazy about her: any idiot can see that.'

'Yeah,' Gold agreed. It was true: he was mad about Belle.

'Then what are you doing sitting here, contemplating making a stupid mistake with some bimbo who could never compare to the woman you want? Don't give up on her, man,' Jefferson entreated, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.

Gold buried his head in his hands. He felt like shit.

'I did,' he rasped out: 'I already fucking did. I told her to go. Jesus. Fuck!'

'Then go after her!'

'I don't know where she went!'

'Then fucking call her!' Jefferson snapped.

Gold stared at him. 'Right,' he said, more reasonable now: 'yeah.' She'd have gone home. He'd go there. Or maybe he should call her first. No point going to her house if she wasn't going to let him in.

The call went straight to voicemail, but he left a message.

'Belle, I'm sorry. I am. I didn't mean to snap at you. I didn't want you to go: I don't want you to go. Please, let's talk about this. I do want you, Belle, so much it hurts. Please: please call me back.'

Call made, he leaned against the wall and sighed.

Belle couldn't stop shaking. She'd managed to find a cab and got home, but she couldn't stop shaking. She stood in her entryway, bewildered, unable to think what to do, and she leaned back against the door and sank to the ground, trembling more violently as tears started to fall again.

She'd been in his arms, being kissed and touched by him. It was everything she'd wanted, and she'd thrown it all away.

What had she done?

She sat for a long while, hours, maybe, crying and shivering, and then she couldn't take it any more.

Dragging herself to her feet, she went to her room and started pulling clothes out of drawers and her wardrobe. She needed to get out of town for a while, needed to try to figure out what to do. She packed a bag and called a cab, and left in the middle of the night.

'Hey.'

'What's the matter?'

'You sound upset.'

Gold sighed. He would never know how Aggie and Elsie could read him so well, but they'd always been able to, just as they'd always been so in tune with each other that they could finish each other's sentences.

'I've really made a mess of something,' he confessed.

'Tell us about it,' Aggie commanded.

'We'll help you sort it out,' Elsie added.

'Nothing that can't be fixed with a little talking through.'

'And you know we like to talk, dear.'

He smiled sadly. 'Don't know that talking will fix this one, but I'll try. You know that woman I told you about: Belle?'

'The librarian.'

'The one going through a messy divorce.'

'Yeah: her. Her friend Ariel told me to take it easy with her because she's fragile, but last night I told her how I really feel about her and she kissed me, but then she pulled away and said she doesn't want to see me again.'

Aggie made a tsk-ing sound and Elsie hummed sympathetically.

'I know I rushed her: I know I scared her away, but I don't want to lose her. I've left messages and texts, but she hasn't called me back. I don't know what to do. Should I keep trying? Should I give her some space?'

'Do you think she cares for you?'

'I don't know. It sure seemed like she did when she kissed me.'

'Then give her a little time.'

'She may just have been overwhelmed, dear.'

'Give her a few days to think and then go and see her.'

Gold sighed. His mothers always gave good advice.

'Ok,' he said: 'thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you.'

'You're a smart lad.'

'You'd have figured it out on your own eventually.'

He smiled fondly. 'How are you both? Is there anything you need?'

'So thoughtful,' Elsie murmured affectionately.

'Just look after yourself and we'll be happy.'

'I promise,' Gold vowed.

'Good lad.'

'We love you.'

'I love you too.'

Belle called Ariel when she'd arrived at her destination, a cottage on the beach that she and Ariel had stayed at before.

'Hey, sweetie: I'm surprised to hear from you. I was thinking it would be a couple days at least before I heard from you.'

'Ariel,' Belle whispered.

'Belle? What's wrong?' Ariel did not like the sound of Belle's voice at all.

'Oh, Ariel, I've made such a terrible mistake.'

Ariel's heart thudded. 'Sweetie, tell me where you are and I'll be right there.'

It was late when she arrived at the cottage. There was a light on and the door was unlocked, and Ariel made her way quickly to the bedroom, where she found Belle curled up, her eyes red, fresh tears trickling down her cheeks.

'Ariel,' she breathed, her voice scratchy and sad.

'Oh, sweetie,' Ariel sighed, hurrying to her. She climbed into the bed, wrapped her arms around her friend, and held her as she cried.

Hours later, Belle woke, her head pounding, and smelled something cooking. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten and she wasn't sure she could now, but the smell reminded her that she was no longer alone in the house: Ariel had come.

Ariel turned as Belle came into the kitchen.

'Hey,' she greeted, smiling.

'Hey,' Belle greeted. 'You're a good friend, Ariel.'

Ariel smiled and waved it off as nothing. 'Do you think you could eat something?'

Belle smiled weakly. 'I know you're going to make me try,' she said, sitting at the table.

'You're right: I am,' Ariel agreed. 'I want you to eat and rest. We'll talk when you feel like it.'

Under Ariel's watchful eye, Belle did manage to eat a little. She resolutely pushed away the thoughts of Tristan that came: she didn't want to cry any more right now.

Ariel didn't ask any questions: she simply waited for Belle to talk to her.

It happened sooner than she expected.

Early the next morning, she came out onto the porch and found Belle sitting curled up on a wicker sofa, watching the waves.

'How long have you been up?' she asked.

'An hour or so,' Belle told her: 'I couldn't sleep.'

'I understand,' Ariel said, sitting beside her.

'I kissed Tristan,' Belle murmured, resting her head on Ariel's shoulder. 'He told me he wanted me so much he couldn't breathe and I kissed him. Then I got scared and pushed him away.'

'I see.'

'I didn't mean to: I…I just got caught up in my fear.'

'You didn't want to stop kissing him?'

'No,' Belle admitted.

'Well, that's good.'

'How is that good?' Belle asked, raising her head to look at her friend: 'he must hate me now.'

'I'm sure that's not true,' Ariel soothed.

A tear trickled down Belle's cheek.

'You didn't see the look on his face after I panicked. I told him I didn't want to see him again. I didn't mean it, but he thought I did and he told me to go. He has every right to hate me.'

'Oh, sweetie,' Ariel murmured, pulling her into her arms.

I ruined it, Ariel,' she breathed: 'I could've had everything I've ever wanted and I ruined it.'

Ariel hugged her tight, stroking her hair and letting her cry.

He waited three days. Belle didn't call and he decided that enough was enough. He went to the library first, but there was a woman there with short dark hair, and no sign of Belle.

'Can I help you?' she asked.

'I'm looking for Belle.'

'She took some time off,' she said, looking curiously at him.

He ran a hand through his hair. 'Right: thanks.' And he left, heading straight for Belle's house.

He rang and rang and knocked and knocked, but there was no answer. If Belle was there, she wasn't answering.

He tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail.

'Damn it, Belle,' he growled, exasperated.

Suddenly he had a thought and dialled another number, waiting impatiently for an answer.

'Hello, Tristan.'

'Ariel, hey: have you seen Belle? She's not at the library and she doesn't seem to be home, and I need to see her.'

She was silent for a moment, registering his agitation. She could tell he was upset, but so was Belle, and it was her fault they were in this mess: if she hadn't pushed them together, this wouldn't have happened.

'Ariel?' he asked when she didn't answer him. 'You've seen her, haven't you?' he asked, guessing that she had. 'Please, I know I screwed up, but if I could just talk to her: if you could just tell me where to find her…'

Ariel sighed. She was debating how to deal with this in a way that would be right for both Tristan and Belle, but she came to the conclusion that there was no way she could help them both, and Belle was her best friend.

'I'm afraid I can't do that, Tristan,' she said quietly. 'I'm sorry: I know that's not what you want to hear, but I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait for her to come to you.'

'But what if she doesn't?

Ariel sighed again. 'I don't know,' she said, but she knew that that would be a mistake on Belle's part, because Tristan obviously cared for her.

'So you can't tell me anything?' She'd given him advice about Belle before: he didn't know why she wouldn't now.

'I'm afraid I can't: I'm sorry.'

'Tell me where she is, Ariel, please!'

'I'd like to: I would, but Belle is my best friend, Tristan, and she doesn't want to see you right now. I'm sorry, but I won't tell you where she is.'

Ariel hung up, feeling terrible, but her loyalty had to be to Belle.

'Ariel?' Gold called: 'Ariel! Damn it!'

He sat down on the step and buried his head in his hands. After a while, he got to his feet and wandered towards home, picking up a bottle of Scotch on the way.

The Scotch bottle was empty and he didn't remember emptying it. His head hurt, but it was less painful than the way his heart hurt, so he welcomed it.

He sat up and waited for the world to stop spinning before he looked at the clock: two in the morning. He didn't know where the day had gone, but he didn't much care either. All he wanted right at this moment was to drown his sorrows until he forgot he had them, and for that, he was going to need more Scotch.

Ariel saw over the next several days that the life and energy she'd seen in her friend over the past number of months was gone: she was like a shell. She obviously had very deep feelings for Tristan, but she was too afraid to act on them. Ariel hated seeing her like this, and she knew she had to do something to help, but she had no idea what to do.

Jefferson and Victor had noticed Tristan's depression. Since Belle had walked out two weeks ago, he hadn't been interested in much of anything. He went through the motions at gigs, didn't care about the direction they were going, and had no interest in anything to do with the band. It was even a struggle to get him out of bed, and he was going through far too much Scotch.

'What are we gonna do?' Jefferson asked.

'Your guess is as good as mine, mate,' Victor said.

'The band's gonna crash and burn without him,' Jeff pointed out.

'You really think he'd let that happen?' Victor asked, alarmed.

'Right now, I don't see him giving much of a shit even about himself, and if he doesn't give a shit about himself, he's not gonna give one about us.'

'Fuck,' Victor said. 'We've got a huge gig this weekend: he can't fucking bail on us now!'

Jefferson looked at his friend. He was in agreement: trouble was, he didn't know how to get Tristan back.

Gold sat with his guitar and a pad and pencil beside him. The tune was the same one that had come to him weeks ago, and he'd been filling in snatches of lyrics ever since. He'd been playing it over and over as some sort of therapy.

God, he missed Belle. It wasn't even the kissing and holding her that he missed: he missed that too, but he'd had it for barely a minute, so it wasn't so much that that he missed. He missed seeing her face, hearing her voice, her smile, her touch. Everything had felt so natural: nothing forced or rushed, and then he'd fucking gone and fucking blown it! Fucking hell!

No: calm down, he told himself. It wouldn't help getting upset, but he was upset: all the time, now. He was just…sad. He missed her and he wanted her, and nothing could make it better but to have her back.

'Come back to me.' That was it: the line he'd been searching for, and he scribbled some more on the pad.

The boys were rehearsing for the gig on Saturday and Gold had gone out for a smoke, leaving his friends alone for a few minutes.

'Did you see this?' Jefferson handed Victor a piece of sheet music that he'd pulled from Tristan's bag.

'This is what he's been playing for the last couple of weeks.'

Jeff nodded. 'Yeah. It's about Belle.'

Victor nodded. 'It's good.'

'Yeah. Listen, I've got an idea…'

'I'll do my best, Jeff.'

'Thanks, Ariel.'

She hung up and smiled to herself. Jefferson and Victor had an idea to bring Tristan and Belle back together: all Ariel had to do was get Belle to their gig on Saturday, two days from now. It was a good plan, but it wasn't going to be easy to get Belle there. Still, she had to try.

'Belle?'

'Hmm?' Belle looked up from the book she'd been trying to read as Ariel came into the living room.

'I just got off the phone with Jefferson.'

'Oh.'

'He's invited us to the gig on Saturday night: I said I'd see if I could convince you to come.'

'Why would you say that to him? Surely Tristan told he and Victor what I did: why would they want me there?'

'I'm sure it's because they consider you a friend,' Ariel told her. 'Sweetie, are you going to go your whole life never listening to their music and avoiding anything to do with them?'

'Of course not, but–'

'So why not go to the gig?'

'I can't, Ariel,' Belle pleaded, her eyes filling with tears. 'I'm not ready. Please, you don't know how much this hurts. To see him on that stage and know that I could have been with him if I hadn't been so scared…I can't bear the thought that he'll move on and find somebody else.'

She started to cry and Ariel went and sat beside her.

'That's what you're really afraid of, isn't it: that he'd leave you eventually?'

Yes, that was at the heart of it, and, now that Ariel had guessed, it was pointless to deny it. Belle nodded.

'Well, why wouldn't he? I'm just–'

'You're kind, and smart, and beautiful, so I don't want to hear you putting yourself down. That bastard Greg really did a number on your confidence, I know, but he's gone now, Belle: you're free of him, and you can be who you want to be and be with who you want to be with. Don't let the ghost of Greg keep you from being happy, because you know you'll regret it.'

Belle looked at her friend. 'It's hard. I know who I want to be, but every time I try, I hear that frightened voice in my head, the voice of Greg's wife, and I just panic. I know Tristan's not Greg, but my fear won't listen to reason.' She released a deep sigh. It felt good to open up, to share her fears: it felt better than keeping them to herself.

Ariel smiled, knowing how much it took for Belle to open up like this. 'I know it's hard, and if you really don't want to go on Saturday, I can't make you, but I want you to think about it, because I think it would be good for you.'

'Alright,' Belle said, after a long moment: 'I will think about it,' she promised.

'You what? ' Gold asked in surprise. 'No,' he stated emphatically, and shook his head and moved away.

Jefferson and Victor followed him.

'You've been playing that song over and over for weeks, Tristan: it might be cathartic if you played it to an audience.'

'Yeah,' Victor agreed: 'might help you let go of some of the pain.'

'Maybe I don't wanna let it go,' Gold said quietly.

'Well, forgive me, Tristan, but you're being a selfish ass right now,' Jeff said.

'That's right,' Victor agreed.

Gold looked up at them, hurt. 'I didn't ask for this.'

'We know,' Victor conceded: 'we know you didn't ask to have your heart broken, but, Tristan, we need you. Yeah, we're a band and we each bring something to the table, but the fact remains that you are Desperate Souls. We need you, mate: we can't go back to where we were before. Please, Trist: don't leave us hanging.'

Gold blinked and something in him jolted, as if coming back to life. Victor was right: he'd been a selfish bastard, wallowing in his own pain and sleepwalking through his days. The band had been the most important part of his life before he met Belle, and, much as they drove him crazy sometimes, he loved the boys. They deserved better from him. They always gave their all and, lately, he hadn't been giving his.

'I'm sorry,' he said now, sighing. 'You deserve better: I'm sorry I've been such a bastard.'

'We forgive you,' Jefferson said, smiling.

'Of course we do,' Victor chimed in. 'So, will you sing that song?'

'You really think it will help?'

Jefferson smiled. 'We really do.'

'I really hope this works, mate,' Victor said quietly as he and Jefferson left Tristan to do a little more work on the song before they rehearsed it and they made their suggestions on the drum and keyboard arrangement. 'I hope Ariel can convince Belle to come.'

'Don't worry,' Jefferson said confidently. 'I've got a backup plan if this one doesn't fly.' And he pulled a digital recorder from his pocket. 'Belle's gonna hear that song no matter what.'

Victor grinned. 'You are a genius.'

'I know,' Jeff returned with a cocky grin.

Ariel smiled at Belle as they walked towards the concert venue. Belle smiled weakly back. She was pale and nervous, but at least she had come.

Ariel wasn't sure what had made her decide to come tonight, but she was here. She didn't want to question her in case Belle got scared and ran away again. It was enough that Belle was here. Victor and Jeff's plan would surely work now.

Belle followed Ariel into the venue, her stomach uneasy with the mix of fear and sadness that had been sitting there for days. She didn't know how she'd found the courage to come here, but something had forced her away from that cottage yesterday and back to her home, and now here. Something in her needed to see him again, even if part of her was telling her this would be the last time: that she was here to say goodbye.

She went with Ariel and they sat down. From their vantage point, they could see that the arena was packed out. There must be twenty thousand people here. Belle was pleased for him: she'd known that first night that Desperate Souls would be stars, and she was happy for them. When all of this was long past, she would look back and remember this time with fondness, and maybe just a little pain, though the pain was her own fault, she knew.

'Here they come,' Ariel said, and Belle watched as the boys came onstage to huge cheers. They organised themselves, Jeff going to the drums, Victor to the keyboards, and Tristan taking up his guitar and his place at the mic. He ran a hand through his hair and looked out into the crowd.

He looked as good as he ever did in those tight leather pants and the tight v-neck t-shirt. He was every inch the rock star, and, of course there would, if not tonight then soon, be someone waiting in the wings who would appreciate him as she hadn't. Oh, but she'd missed him, and she had to catch her breath at how strong the yearning to touch and kiss him again was. You blew it, she had to remind herself: you lost your chance. Yes: she was only here to say goodbye.

Tristan greeted the crowd, thanked them for coming out, and then they launched into the show with "Lost Boy", their first single and their first hit. They followed that up with "Nasty Habits", then "Broken", "All Magic Comes With a Price", and "Peter Pan".

Belle's eyes were glued to Tristan as he sang, played his guitar, and prowled around the stage like he owned it. Well, he did. Belle had never seen anything so mesmerising in her life, and she knew that no man would ever captivate her like this again. He was just so incredibly talented, so amazingly sexy, and the most beautiful, most wonderful soul she had ever met in her life. And he could have been hers.

They played a few more songs and the ache in Belle's heart grew more painful. It wasn't just seeing what she could no longer have: it was also hearing the way he sang. There was more desperation, more yearning, than she'd ever heard in his voice before. The crowd was enjoying it, and it certainly made for an electrically charged atmosphere, but it hurt Belle to hear him like that. She couldn't listen to this any longer.

'Ariel, I have to go,' she said, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Ariel caught her breath at the look on her face. 'Oh, sweetie…'

'I'm sorry, but I can't listen to him any more: I can't bear this.'

Ariel nodded. 'Ok, Belle: ok.' Victor and Jefferson's plan didn't matter in the face of Belle's distress. 'Want me to come with you?'

'Thank you, but I need to be by myself for a bit.'

Ariel nodded again. 'Ok: I'll call you tomorrow?'

Belle nodded and hugged her friend, and then she rose from her seat and turned to leave. As she was walking away, Tristan addressed the crowd and a hush fell.

'This is a new one. It's, uh, it's about someone special to me: this is for Belle.'

Belle stopped in her tracks as he began to play a familiar melody.

'It's called "Beauty".'

She recognised the tune as the one she'd heard him play that day on the roof above his apartment. It was slower than the other songs, more a longing, yearning sound than frantic, harsh desperation.

The crowd cheered and then quieted as Tristan sang.

'Beauty walks in high heel shoes,
Stares at me with baby blues,
Reads me like one of her books.
Beauty talks so soft and sweet,
She don't know what she does to me,
Her musical voice got me hooked.

And she's out of my league,
But I will wait patiently,
Hoping and praying that she'll come back to me.'

Belle was holding her breath. She was standing stock still in the aisle, listening to him sing a song he'd written about her. Tristan had written a song about her…and it was beautiful…

The tempo kicked up a notch for the second verse.

'Oh, Beauty's smiles can light the night,
Fill me up with her sunlight,
She chases the darkness away.
And Beauty's touch is all I need,
She lights a fire inside of me,
For her hands on me I will pray.

Oh, but she's out of my league,
Still, she's all that I see, all that I need,
Oh, Beauty, please come back to me.'

As he was singing the second verse, Belle turned and went to the railing, as close as she could get to Tristan for the moment.

Ariel looked over at her and smiled. Belle was clearly mesmerised by the song, and now Ariel knew that everything would be ok.

Belle watched him play the instrumental part. He played the notes with such care and tenderness, the way she'd seen him play the same tune before. Had he been thinking of her then? Had he been thinking of her like this: with such longing and wanting, the same way she'd been thinking of him?

'Oh, Tristan,' she breathed: 'I do want you.' And she watched and listened as he sang the rest of the song.

'Beauty has a fragile heart,
Been hurt before, I know it's hard,
But deep down inside she's so strong.
Oh, Beauty doesn't have to hide,
I see the soul that shines so bright,
And I know now just where I belong.

Still, she's out of my league,
Far too good for me,
But baby, please come back to me.

Oh, she's out of my league,
But all that I need, all that I see,
Oh, Beauty, please come back to me.
Oh, Beauty, please come back to me.'

He finished the song on a soft, slow, gentle note, and then the crowd went wild.

Belle saw Tristan take a breath and close his eyes. It was painful to sing that, she realised, painful to think about her. She'd broken his heart, and yet, according to the song, he wanted her back.

Would he forgive her if she went to him and said she was sorry? Could they still be together, even after she'd caused him so much pain?

She'd come to say goodbye, but she realised now that that was her taking the coward's way out, and she didn't want to do that again. It had taken her years to leave Greg because she was afraid, but if she let her fear get the better of her again, she would certainly lose the best thing that had ever happened to her. She couldn't let that happen: she had to go to him, apologise for hurting him, and tell him that she'd been afraid, but she wasn't now, and she very much wanted to be with him if he wanted to be with her. She could do this: she had to, because the alternative was unthinkable. She didn't want to lose him again.

Victor had gone up to Tristan and put a hand on his shoulder. He said something and Tristan nodded, taking a breath. Victor squeezed his shoulder and went back to the keyboards, exchanging a look with Jefferson as he went. The other man nodded.

They played one more song to finish out the gig and thanked the crowd. Then people began making their way towards the exits, buzzing after the intense show. Belle stayed exactly where she was, and then Ariel came up beside her.

'I need to talk to him,' Belle said softly.

Ariel smiled. 'I know the head of security,' she said.

Belle looked at her. Then she hugged her. 'Thank you: you're such a wonderful friend, Ariel. I don't know what I'd do without you.'

Ariel smiled. 'I'm just so happy to see you getting on with your life after Greg,' she said. 'I'm so happy to see you spread your wings and be the woman I've seen glimpses of: the woman you know you really are. Tristan's right, you know: you're so strong deep down. Don't forget that, ok?'

Belle smiled tearfully. 'I won't: I never will again.' And she let out a breath, truly and completely letting go of her inhibitions. She didn't have to hide any more: she didn't have to pretend, didn't have to tamp down her energy and passion and fit herself into a role that was far too limited for her. She remembered the passionate, energetic girl she'd once been, and she welcomed that old self back with open arms.

'Thank you, Ariel,' she breathed, hugging her friend tight. Ariel had always been there to support her: she was a wonderful rock and confidante, and she owed so much of this newly remembered assertiveness to her, and so much to Tristan too.

She smiled. She'd finally found the courage to be fully herself, something she had not truly been in over twenty years.

'Want me to talk to Leroy?' Ariel asked.

Belle smiled. 'Do you think you could introduce me and I could take it from there?'

Ariel grinned. 'Of course!'

Saving the reunion for next chapter: sorry about that, but I can promise that it will be epic!