Belle staggered back through the portal, half-collapsing against the wall of the shrine. The brilliant swirling light dimmed as the opening closed with a whoosh behind her. She didn't have the energy to turn and look. It was all she could do to stay upright, even with the support of the wall. It had been a long, long walk back through the Land Without Stories. Now her feet hurt and her knees were wobbling. She wearily lifted her right arm, the mystical hourglass clutched in her fist, and proffered it to Morpheus. "Here. You said you would wake him."

The god of dreams reached out, long delicate fingers extracting the hourglass from Belle. He held it up and peered at it, the black sand sliding down as he tilted it sideways. "Indeed."

He took his time about it. Belle bit her lip, swallowing her impulse to urge him to hurry up. It was probably not a good idea to irritate a deity. Morpheus stood at the head of the bed. He held the hourglass a few feet above Rumplestiltskin's heart. The sand shimmered an unearthly violet. Then Morpheus flipped the hourglass over. Rays of light shot out and bathed the sleeping figure.

Rumplestiltskin twitched violently, then sat up with an incoherent cry. He raised a hand reflexively, fingers curled as if about to cast some spell.

"Rumple!" Belle pushed herself off the wall and started towards her husband. Then her weakness betrayed her, her legs giving way underneath her.

Rumplestiltskin lunged forward just in time to catch her before she slid to the floor. He turned an angry gaze towards Morpheus. Even as he supported Belle with one arm, his other was raised, dagger in hand. "What have you done? You promised to protect her!"

"She is alive and will soon recover." The god's face was as expressionless as ever. He took a step back and slid the hourglass inside his robe.

"The Hourglass of Chronos," snapped Rumplestiltskin. "Don't think I don't know where it was hidden. And you sent Belle there!"

"It was my decision." Belle's fingers closed around Rumplestiltskin's wrist. "Don't blame Morpheus."

"The risk— " Rumplestiltskin began unhappily.

"Worth it." Belle pulled at his arm, and he relented enough to stow the dagger away again. "I'm fine. Just tired."

Before Rumplestiltskin could reply, Morpheus said to him, "I promised to protect her while you slept. As you are awake now, the terms of our agreement have been completed. Good day." The god of dreams vanished into a streak of blackness that seemed to dissipate into motes of dust.

"So Morpheus has the hourglass now," muttered Rumplestiltskin. He eased Belle onto the bed.

"Is that bad? What will he do with it?" She drew up her legs and sat on the bed, relieved to have the weight off her feet. She tugged her shoes off and dropped them on the floor.

"Who knows? Here, let me." Rumplestiltskin hovered over her, waving a hand over her body. She felt the tingle of magic easing her sore muscles. "It's similar in effect to Zelena's time travel spell, but creates alternatives, remakes, sequels, and sidesteps. Slightly safer to use, but in the hands of the irresponsible... well, if we're lucky, the god of dreams isn't a fool."

Belle glanced over at his face. By his expression, he wasn't holding out much hope, but he didn't seem unduly worried, either. "Rumple, when I was under the Sleeping Curse, I saw... saw all those things..."

"Yes. Well. When you said you had always known who I was, I realized that wasn't strictly true, because there's so much I hid from you. From everyone." He sighed and looked away. Then he straightened, beginning a restless circuit around the shrine. "After all my lies, I don't blame you for not trusting me. That's... that's why I wanted to show you everything. I don't usually share my past with people, but I owed you that much at least."

"I understand." She reached out as his path took him by the bed again. "And I want to trust you, Rumple. It's just hard, sometimes."

He stopped, catching her fingers, his expression enigmatic. "I didn't expect to see you again. That made it simpler. But here you are, having risked everything for my sake. Thank you, sweetheart." He bent his head down and kissed her hand lightly. "It means the world to me. But..."

"But?" Belle could feel the tension in his body, right before he drew away.

He looked at her gravely. With a wave of his hand, a sheet of paper poofed audibly into existence. It unscrolled down from his fingers, just like any number of similar sheets which he once used to write out his contracts. He sat down on the other end of the bed, setting the paper in between the two of them.

As Belle read the neatly printed words, a cold shock pierced her. A divorce contract! It was written to conform to the laws of the Enchanted Forest, since they had been married under their old identities rather than the names the Curse had given them. She stared at the blank lines where their signatures were to go; at least he had not signed it yet. She glanced up, speechless.

"I'm tired, Belle." His voice was soft, almost inaudible. He met her eyes, and she realized that he was on the verge of tears. "We can't keep on like this, back and forth and back again, each of us unable to fully believe in the other. I can't do it anymore."

And she could see it. The past few years had worn heavily on him. He had suffered loss, captivity, enslavement, and almost died more than once. He had died. Then he had gone again into the Underworld and barely escaped with their lives. Even now, he had the look of someone who knew that his time had run out, and was only clinging to life by his fingertips. Another push from the person he loved could send him over the edge.

"But a divorce?" Belle's voice broke and tears stung her own eyes. She longed to hold him and offer him comfort, but she didn't dare, with the paper set out so starkly between them. "Is that what you want?"

"Of course not. But it may be for the best. If I had ended things earlier with Milah, we might have averted that bit of tragedy."

"I'm not Milah!"

"But sometimes it feels like it." Rumplestiltskin looked at her, pain clouding his eyes.

Belle was stunned again into silence.

"When we were in the Underworld, I met her shade," he continued, his gaze shifting as he focused on the distant past. "I remembered, then, how it was for us. How we began, and how we ended. I could never be the man she wanted, either."

Belle stared at him wordlessly. She had seen his bitter memories of his first marriage, heard the contemptuous voice of his first wife ringing in his ears. Belle was nothing like her, was she? She loved Rumplestiltskin, would never treat him so cruelly. Then she remembered taking his dagger and forcing her husband into exile, lame and penniless and without magic.

But he had been consumed by darkness. He had been about to crush Hook's heart. Things were different now. He was trying to be a good man, even as the Dark One. He wasn't lying to her anymore.

Then another memory thrust itself into her mind, sharpened perhaps by the lingering effects of Morpheus's enchanted water. She heard her own voice, certain, uncompromising, speaking to Rumple, saying...

That's not what a hero does.

You want a future with me? You have to do this my way.

You'll only make me do something else I regret.

And then she had walked out on him, finding his honesty as difficult to cope with as his lies. Left him alone, again. How many times had she done that? How must he have felt, hoping each time that she would return, but afraid that this time she wouldn't? She lowered her eyes, whispering, "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

"It doesn't matter." He paused, and didn't say, "Intent is meaningless," but she heard it in his silence. Then he said, "But my feelings are irrelevant."

"How can you say that?" She risked another glance at him, saw the broken look on his face.

"Because you were right. If you stay with me, your soul will be darkened." His tone was resigned, sad. "My beautiful Belle, you don't deserve that. That's why I always knew that you would leave in the end. It was unfair of me to tie your fate to mine, and then to keep you there with lies. I'm sorry. I truly am."

Belle touched the contract gingerly. She gulped. "And this? If we... if we do this, what... what will you do?"

"That depends on you."

"Me?"

"I'll take you wherever you want to be," he said gently. "And I'll find somewhere to stay, close enough to be there for our child, far enough that you won't be disturbed by my presence. And you... you can move on. Live. Love. Travel, as you always wanted to do."

"And after our child is grown?" she asked, remembering that the Dark One was immortal.

"The day before I became the Dark One, I told Bae I would use that power for good." He grimaced. "Instead, I unleashed the Dark Curse, and all the evils that led up to it."

"You weren't doing it to hurt people," Belle couldn't help defending him, when he refused to do it for himself. "It was the only way for you to find Baelfire again."

"But people were hurt, nevertheless." His voice turned harsh, unforgiving. "So. Someday, I'll go back to the Enchanted Forest. Do everything I can to set things right. To help people. Bae would have wanted me to do that. I'll wait until the day you no longer need me, then—"

"Don't!" Impulsively, Belle reached out to touch his forearm, ignoring the paper barrier between them. "Don't wait."

"What?" Rumple glanced at her in confusion. His arm tensed under her touch, and she felt his uncertainty as he twisted to face her more fully.

She explained, "I'll go with you."

His eyes went wide and startled. His hand lifted to grab hers. "What are you saying?"

"I had time to think, when I was in the Land Without Stories. About who we really are. Not heroes, not monsters, just two people." Belle saw his expression shift for an instant before he forced all hope out of his features. They had come to this, then. Hope had turned into something he dreaded. "I can't see the future, but I know that I want it to be with you. Not the illusion that I married, but the true person sitting before me now."

"You don't mean it," he said. His grip tightened as Belle began to protest. "Maybe you mean it now. But when you see too much darkness — when I do something you can't condone — your heart will pull away and your hand will reach for the dagger."

Belle flinched. She had used it more than once to try to control him, to her shame.

"Shhh," said Rumplestiltskin. He released her hand and reached out to touch her shoulder gently. "I don't blame you. Your nature is light, not dark. You want me to do good, hoping goodness will follow."

"But it was wrong to try to force you," said Belle. "I didn't realize what it was like for you, before."

"Yes, from the outside, it looks quite the dramatic gesture, doesn't it?" He half-smiled for a moment. "But you could just ask me."

"And accept the possibility that you might refuse. I know," said Belle. She knew that he could have controlled her just as easily using magic, yet beyond the times he had cast a sleep on her to hide his lies, he never took away her own choices. Not even to stop her from pricking herself with the needle of the Sleeping Curse. It was time she extended the same trust to him.

"But can you accept the possibility of me darkening your soul? Making you do something you regret?" He obviously remembered her words as keenly as she did, the ones she had spoken in her guilt at having pushed Gaston into the River of Souls.

"Rumple. You can't darken my soul." She met his eyes clearly, willing him to believe her. It had been her decision, from the very beginning, to invite darkness into her life. She had asked the Dark One to save her family and her people from the ogres. And he had, using dark magic, as she had known he would. If he had handed her his dagger and offered her the same chance Zoso had offered him, she might have been desperate enough to take it. The price Rumple had exacted from her was negligible compared to that curse. "Whatever choices I make are my own responsibility."

"And as for mine..." He slid the dagger out of his jacket and laid it across the divorce contract. "It may be the wrong choice as you see it, but it is my choice."

"Power," said Belle. "I know. I accept that."

"Do you?"

"It's part of who you are, now," said Belle. "But thinking about it, it isn't even really about power, is it? Or you would be a king or emperor by now. You say 'power' but what you really mean is magic."

"It's one of the two things in my life I was ever good at," said Rumplestiltskin. "And there's not much call for spinning these days. They have machines for that now."

"You also have an eye for clothing," she said, thinking wistfully of the outfits he had conjured the day after their wedding. "If you ever retire from sorcery, I'm sure you could make a career in the fashion industry."

He picked up the dagger and pretended to study it. He asked carefully, "Is that what you want? For me to give up magic?"

"No. I'm not asking that." Belle watched him put the dagger away. "If that were, say, a violin, and it was music that you had been studying for three hundred years, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. You'd have all my admiration for your skill and dedication."

"But it's not music." His expression was serious as he looked at her. "It's dark magic, dearie."

"I know. And I think... I think I can accept that, as long as you don't use it for evil." That was the conclusion she had come to. Only one thing still troubled her. "But it's the darkness that makes you enjoy hurting people."

"Yes," confessed Rumplestiltskin. "Yes. But only the ones who deserve it."

"In your opinion."

"Obviously, in my opinion."

"But that's not the whole truth, is it?" Belle had seen into his memories, and she remembered the times he had wholly given in to the darkness.

"It's the truth that matters," he told her now. "Sometimes it's necessary to hurt people. For example, when they're trying to kill you. Why not enjoy it?"

"It makes you a sadistic thug, looking for people who 'deserve' to suffer!"

Rumplestiltskin smiled crookedly. "I suppose that's why I'm rarely invited to parties. But for what it's worth, I'm sorry for what I did to your father. And I'll try not to do anything like that again."

"Regina lied to you," said Belle, remembering. Then, "But she's supposed to be a hero now. She even used light magic against Zelena. If Regina can do it, why can't you?"

"Why can't you?" returned Rumplestiltskin.

"What? But I'm not..." She wasn't magically gifted, not like Regina's family, nor was she a child of True Love.

"You could learn. I could teach you," Rumplestiltskin offered. He hesitated, then stammered, "If... if we stayed together, that is. We'd... we'd have time."

"I'd... I'd like that," Belle whispered. Her eyes drifted to the divorce contract again. No. She wouldn't sign it. Their love was worth fighting for, and this time she would not lose sight of who it was that she loved. "Rumple..."

"Belle..." He stopped, his expression as uncertain as ever. Hope and fear struggled with no clear winner.

On an impulse, Belle closed the distance between them, the contract swept aside as she wrapped her arms around her husband and drew him in to kiss him fiercely. He reacted as he always had, initially freezing in panic, then slowly gaining enough confidence to kiss her back. She held him tightly, hoping in her heart that some day, he would have enough faith in their love not to be surprised by it. She knew now that it would not be easy for them to gain that faith. It had never been easy.

Rumplestiltskin broke away at last, enough to murmur, "No divorce, then?"

"No. No more lies, either," Belle answered. "No matter how ugly the truth is, I won't run away from it. Whatever happens, we can face it together."

"Together," sighed Rumplestiltskin. He leaned forward and picked up the fallen divorce contract. "You know we're bound to make mistakes."

"That's life," agreed Belle. "But together, we're stronger."

"Your optimism continues to astound me," said Rumplestiltskin. "Well, then, where should we go — together? The Enchanted Forest?"

"No, we should stop by Storybrooke, first," she said.

He raised his eyebrows at that. "Storybrooke? Why? It's not as if I have to collect the rent anymore."

"I should talk to my father," explained Belle. "And see our friends before we leave."

"Your friends, maybe." Rumplestiltskin scowled. At Belle's questioning look, he said angrily, "Ah, you didn't know. The Charmings sold you out to one of my enemies — told him that you were my wife, and that you were pregnant and under a Sleeping Curse. Practically an invitation to kidnap you. Which he promptly did."

"What?" Belle bit back her alarm. She was free, now, wasn't she? "What did you do?"

"You should be pleased: I didn't kill him. We made a deal. I signed over all my property in Storybrooke except for my house and shop, and he returned you and told me where to find Morpheus." Rumplestiltskin smirked suddenly. "I also opened a portal, so now Mr. Hyde is in Storybrooke. I hope they enjoy their new landlord!"

"Wait, what's he going to do to them? Rumple, we have to help them!" Whatever the Charmings had said to this Mr. Hyde, Belle couldn't believe that they had intended to harm her. There must be some mistake, she thought, knowing her husband's temper and cynical views.

"Regina and Miss Swan are perfectly capable of handling whatever threat Hyde may pose to the town," Rumple assured her, but Belle wasn't convinced.

"What if they aren't? We have to go back."

"It's probably a mistake," grumbled Rumplestiltskin, but he conceded the point.

Belle hugged him fondly. "Thank you." She cast a glance at the divorce contract. "Are you keeping that?" If he meant to keep it until the next time... did he still not believe her? She held her breath, waiting for his response, all her hopes hanging in the balance. Memories of their past confrontations echoed between them.

I was already in love...why wasn't it good enough? she had asked him once.

And he had said, Because I didn't believe it. Who could ever love me?

But in the Underworld library, he had told her, We can have what's important: family, happiness. It's your choice.

Rumplestiltskin studied her face for a long moment. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. With a flick of his wrist, he set flames racing down the contract. A second later, ashes floated to the ground. "No. No need."

He believed. She had chosen.

They would never let anything come between them again.

Author's notes: So there we have it. Rumple has to stay the Dark One, because, let's face it, everyone else sucks at it. And we need the Dark One to maintain the balance in the Force! As for RumBelle, I don't know if I believe it either, but hey, I tried my best.

Thanks for reading! I appreciate any comments and kudos you care to leave.

Now go away and read a book, or whatever it is you like to do...