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Trying to update twice a week as did originaly.

I do not own once Upon a Time

Chapter 14 – Day 8: The woodcutter

Rumpelstiltskin was sticky and sweaty, his mouth dry from thirst, his head dizzy from lack of oxygen. He never looked up. His eyes were focused on the ground beneath him, for he was too afraid to see what was still lying before him. Each step he took, each movement to lift up his foot, cost him immense effort. He preferred not to think. Even that had become too strenuous. He let himself be guided by Baelfire and literally handed his destiny to the gods. He had reached a point he didn't care anymore if he lived or died. All he wanted was to rest. To sleep. Endlessly. It was only his son's voice pushing for him that gave him the will to carry on.

When they finally reached the top, all breathed of relieve. Even Rumpelstiltskin managed to give a weary smile. The most difficult part was behind them, but they still had to walk another hour and a half. And with this slow pace, only the gods knew how long it would take. They stood a while, restoring their breath from the arduous climb, when Rumpelstiltskin murmured something uncomprehending.

"What?" Baelfire asked.

"Listen." His father whispered, his eyes only half open. "Do you hear it too?"

Baelfire and Belle stared at one and other, afraid the man was starting to hallucinate. But then they heard, far away, a discernible thump. Short after they heard another one. And then again, and again.

"It's Bram!" Baelfire yelled rejoiced! His heart suddenly filled with pure joy and hope. "He's cutting wood not so far from here!" He told Belle. The princess smiled with the new hope. "You stay with him a while. I will be right back." He said, practically letting his father fall into the girl's arms, as he quickly run away. "And whatever happens, don't let him fall asleep!" He yelled already at a certain distance.

Belle stared at the boy disappearing between the trees with an exasperated expression. Of course, she didn't manage to hold the man's weight on her own. He was already half unconscious and his body felt like a ragdoll. So she had no other choice to sit him up. She froze when his eyes rolled back into unconsciousness. Belle shook him wildly while she shouted at him to stay awake. He could not give up now!

"Bram!"

A middle-aged man, strongly built, was busy with his daily task of cutting wood. He was almost ready. Soon he would call his children back, who were gathering firewood nearby and they would head home together. He sliced another log in two and suddenly heard his name being shouted somewhere in a distance.

"Bram!" He heard again. He looked at the direction the voice came from and took a few steps closer. Soon he distinguished the figure of a boy running and his heart went still for a moment. It could not be him. It could not be true.

"Baelfire?" The boy ran until he reached him panting. Bram stared at him full of unbelief and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Baelfire, is it really you?"

"Papa needs help! He's really sick! We spent all food and water and he's full of fever!" He boy said in one quick breath.

"Your father? Oh, by the gods…Gretel! Hansel!" Soon two children, a bit younger than Baelfire, came running to Bram. They too looked shocked when they saw Baelfire but didn't have the chance to say anything. "Get water and the bag with food! We must hurry."

Belle was desperate. She had shaken him, yelled at him, slapped him and still no reaction. She was already in tears when Baelfire came running back, this time accompanied by a man and two other children.

"He fainted! I cannot wake him up. Believe me, I tried, but he won't wake up!" She said in pure panic. Bram quickly crouched and examined Rumpelstiltskin. He felt his temperature, listened his breathing, heartbeat and lifted his eyelids. Bram didn't seem happy with what he saw.

"Come on Rumpel. You came too far to give up now." He said. Like Belle, he shook him energetically, slapped him in the face a few times, begging over and over to his friend not to give up. Hansel and Gretel stared shaken at the pale and lifeless man, while Baelfire's eyes were already cascading in tears. Suddenly Bram stopped and stared a few seconds pensive at Rumpelstiltskin. "Forgive me, my friend." With this he gave a hard squeeze on the left knee and immediately a horrific scream of pain came out of the man.

"Gods! SHIT!" Rumpelstiltskin cursed while he grabbed his knee with both hands and contorted from the sharp pain. Everybody breathed of relieve. The man was back, alive and kicking.

"Thank the gods! For a moment I thought I had lost you there!" Bram said with a laughter of pure relief. The cripple seeing his friend, instead of being happy, cursed viciously, the throbbing blinding him with fury.

"You idiot! What the hell did you do?"

"I squeezed your knee, of course."

"The fuck?"

"Does it hurt?"

"Of course it bloody hurts! You gigantic moron! It always hurts! And you go and squeeze it? Are you out of your mind!" Rumpelstiltskin yelled his lungs out. Bram, on the other side, had a wide grin of satisfaction stamped on his face. He turned to Baelfire.

"As long as he curses and screams like this, he'll be okay." The teenager smiled and seemed to lighten up, not caring if his father looked possessed. He was alive and that was all that mattered. Then Bram turned to his daughter, Gretel. "Pass me the water." He poured just a bit of water in a tin cup and gave it to Rumpelstiltskin who drank it up in one sip.

"More." He demanded.

"In a while. You know very well you must not drink too much in one time."

"I don't care! Give me more!" Rumpelstiltskin yelled upset. Bram shook his head refusing the man's desperate request. "Gods, I hate you!" The cripple complained.

"You little devil! I'm doing this for your own good." Bram said amused. "Where do you get all that energy from, anyway? You're not human!" All he received as reply was a muffed complaining and a murderous glare. Bram gave water gradually and Rumpelstiltskin seemed to slowly calm down. A least the cursing and shouting were over. Now that the ill man looked less dangerous, Bram could examine his friend better. "Have you sweated a lot?"

"Litters."

"You need salt." Bram took a small piece of dry salty pork and gave it to Rumpelstiltskin. He made a face of disgust, but knew he needed to restore the salt he had sweated out. As the symptoms of dehydration slowly faded away, Rumpelstiltskin's body relaxed and all that was left was exhaustion.

"So tired." He murmured half asleep.

"I'll take you home in a while. Drink a bit more." Bram said as he handed another share of water. He stared at him friend for a while, looking thoughtful. "I can't believe you are here. I've heard the news about the villages on the east. Thought you were both dead."

"We left just few days before." Rumpelstiltskin informed, looking sad at the thought. Bram saw immediately the look of sorrow and guilt emerge in his friend's eyes.

"Are you okay?" He whispered worriedly. Rumpelstiltskin shook his head slowly, forcing himself not to cry. "We'll talk later about it, okay?" Bram said and pat Rumpelstiltskin's arm. All the man replied was a silent nod. "Well, you're good to go. Climb up, buddy." Bram carried the cripple on his back. "You stay awake, I don't want you drooling over me!"

"Go to hell." Rumpelstiltskin complained, while the other laughed at his own joke.

"Who's the girl?" Bram suddenly asked.

"I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Linda."

"I'm Bram and those are my kids. Hansel and Gretel." The boy waved happily, while Gretel gave a pretty gracious bow.

"It's a pleasure." She kindly said, returning the girl's bow.

"The pleasure is all ours" Bram said with an almost teasing tone, resulting in a muffed groan coming from Rumpelstiltskin. "So are you family, friends?"

"Friends." Baelfire happily chirped.

"A nice friend you have there, Rumpel." Bram spoke low so only his friend could hear. Rumpelstiltskin knew right away, by his tone, Bram meant something totally different.

"Not that kind of friend." He said upset.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Is she available?" Instead of an answer, Bram received a kick on the side, much for his amusement. "You know, you're really a pest when you're sick."

"Keep going on and you'll receive more kicks. I dare you." Rumpelstiltskin said in a dangerous tone. It seemed to work, for Bram, the woodcutter, didn't touch the subject the rest of their journey to his home. He could tell when his friend was not in the mood for jokes.

It was already nearing dusk when the small company reached a wooden cottage in the middle of the forest. It was of modest size, but looked cozy and a pleasant place to live in. Next to the house were a kitchen-garden, a well and a poultry-yard with chickens. Bram had already sent Hansel and Gretel ahead to prepare extra beds and warm water, so they all could wash themselves after the long travel.

"I'll borrow you some clothing from my wife. She was taller than you, but a few amends will do the job. Gretel will help you with that." Bram told Belle, who nodded embarrassed. She was guessing Bram was also a widower and, as generous and hospitable as Rumpelstiltskin. Bram turned to his friend, hanging on his back. "Rumpel, we're home."

"Thank the gods" Was the murmur on Bram's ear.

Belle got to share a room with Gretel, in the most private area of the cottage. The girl was handy, kind and spoke only when needed. She helped Linda with the bath and gave a homemade ointment against the scratches and blue marks she gained over the past days. She helped the princess with the dressing and amended the cloths as they were obviously to large for Belle's petit frame.

"Those stitches can probably be taken off, but you better ask Papa or Rumpelstiltskin. They will know." The girl said as she examined the cut.

"How does it look?" Belle asked.

"Good. You'll barely notice the scar, I think." The girl said with a sweet smile. "Rest a while. I'll call you when diner is ready. That one is your bed." And with this the girl exited, leaving Belle alone with complete privacy for the first time since she escaped the castle. After washing herself, she felt a lot better and let herself succumb into exhaustion when she lay down of her new bed. It felt soft and warm. Only now did she realize how badly she had missed a bed. She smiled, welcoming sleep.

The men were to sleep all together in the same room. Baelfire and Rumpelstiltskin washed themselves up and changed into clean clothes. After that, Bram took the precaution in asking the teenager to help Hansel and Gretel with the chickens. He could see Rumpeltstiltskin was nearing break down. He knew the man all too well. He needed not to read the symptoms to know that the cripple had already let himself sink in his misery and carry guilt around as a burden, keeping it all to him, sharing nothing with nobody. So he closed the door as soon as Baelfire was gone and looked at his friend. He sat on the bed, clean and looking a bit better, but his head hung down, wearing the most miserable look in his eyes.

"Have you heard any news… if anyone survived?" Rumpelstiltskin was the first to speak.

"No. All I've heard is Avonlea and all villages in a ray of 50 kilometers of it were destroyed." Bram noticed his friend let a little quiver escape.

"How?"

Bram closed his eyes for moments. He knew this was torture. But there was no sense in hiding any information from his friend. Rumpelstitskin would insist until the end, or would simply discoverer the truth through other sources.

"The ogres invaded the little villages, plundered them and then burned them down."

Bram was greatly concerned. He was the only person Rumpelstiltskin ever opened to. The only living soul in this Earth who truly knew the torments the cripple man went through during and after the Ogres Wars. For, Rumpelstiltskin, in his strange way of working things out, had retold countless times his horrific experience with the monsters. He had described every single little detail of the nightmarish events. How grotesque the ogres were, the smell of rotten flesh, their cruel eyes and ferocious movements. Their only and single instinct was to crush bones and flesh to have the pleasure of smelling the blood that stream out. Bram knew Rumpelstiltskin was seeing these images again. Reliving his war all over again.

"They are all dead, then." Rumpelstiltskin's voice was barely audible. "They are all dead… They were chanceless, Bram!" Bram put his hand on his friends shoulder. Rumpelstiltskin's whole body was shaking. The first hot tears fell down his face. "Oh gods, they had horrible deaths!" He hid his face behind his hands, muffing the sound of his sobs. "Everybody…slain like animals…Oh gods, it must have been horrible…the poor little children…"

Then it came all out. All the tension, all the sorrow, all the desolation came out in one long burst of sobs. Bram held Rumpelstiltskin close to him in a tight embrace. His friend's whole body was trembling and he bounced back and forward from the distress. Bram let the man cry all his heart out. But he too grieved. Bram knew practically everybody from Rumpelstiltskin's village and surroundings. Friends and contacts spread out everywhere. Innocent people who wished no harm to anybody. Now all gone with a cruel death. The world was an unfair place to live in.

"There, there…let it all out." He said while comforted his friends the best he could. "You've been keeping it too long inside." He said while Rumplestiltskin let out a moan of agony. Bram didn't know how long he sat there, holding his friend in his arms. Rumpelstiltskin's outbursts were always intense but short. In a few moments the tears dried out, the sobs diminished and his body relaxed.

"I'm so tired, Bram…Tired of this stupid life…constantly running away…always running away." He confessed. He looked at Bram, his eyes puffed and worn out. "Why is it I always chose to live and then regret it later?" Bram had no answer. For him, running away, as cowardly as it sounded, was a good instinct that kept his friend alive. "I don't know anymore what to do." Rumpelstiltskin said helplessly.

"You're tired. You sleep and you'll see your mind will be clearer after that." He said as he helped Rumpelstiltskin lay down. "And no matter what people may tell you, or what you may put in that thick head of yours…It's not your fault. It's never your fault."

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, not having energy to think otherwise. He felt relieved. He felt lighter. And so he let himself be carried into slumber.

Now, those were pretty intense days for our friends. They'll rest a while for now. Get to know a bit more about Rumpelstiltskin's past (a blend of OUAT and my own fictional ideas).

Since Rumpel and "the woodcutter" were both peasants, it seemed to me a realistic aproach to bond these two as close friends. They are, after all, from the same social class (I mean, the chances of a peasant being friends with a noble knight or prince are quite meager)

I always loved Hansel and Gretel's tale and loved even more the version of the series. The blind witch was simple phenomeal!

Keep reviewing and I'll do my best to updated twice a week. Deal?