Chapter 15: Homecoming

Rumplestiltskin woke up groggily, confused, and in pain. He tried to move, but he tensed when a sharp and unbearable pain shot through his leg. He bent over and emptied the contents of his stomach on the floor. He groaned and fell onto his back again as each movement causing another horrific burst of pain. He forced himself to lie still, though his mind was racing and trying to recall what happened. He remembered fear. He remembered pain. He remembered collapsing to the ground in agony, as his screams and cries drew attention from the soldiers still in the camp. He vaguely recalled being carried, but it began to grow muddled, and he couldn't seem to remember anything after that.

He knew that he'd blacked out at some point. The pain had been remarkable, and even still it was the worst thing he'd ever felt. His stomach rolled, and he fought back the bile that was rising in his throat. He was dizzy, and in pain, and he wanted nothing more than to wake up and find this to be yet another horrid nightmare.

This couldn't be real.

He drifted off again, his slumber restless. When he awoke to the painful sensation of someone touching his leg he cried out, and the man in question stopped and turned to face Rumple.

Rumplestiltskin recognized him as the physician. He noticed belatedly behind the physician stood his captain. Both men looked angry and weary, and their eyes held no sympathy. Rumplestiltskin let his head fall, a sense of guilt and horror weighing him down suddenly. He felt ashamed, and he could not bring himself to speak to the men staring hatefully at him. He waited, wondering if they would say anything, or if they would leave him in pain and ignorance.

"You did quite a job on this," the doctor said at last, his tone blank. "Your days of walking like a normal man are over."

He said nothing else for a long time. Rumplestiltskin wanted to ask what had happened. How many bones were broken? How damaged were the muscles? But his voice had vanished like his courage had the night before, and he could not say a word. He could only stare as the physician sat with a bowed head, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"I've set your leg," he said at length, "I've done all I can do. It'll heal in its time." He stood and gave Rumplestiltskin a curt nod, "I would advise you not put any weight on it for some time. Now if you'll excuse me, I've others to see."

He turned, saluted the captain, and slipped out of the tent. Rumple waited for his captain to follow the man, but he made no such move. Instead he took a step forward, eyeing the pile of vomit on the floor with distaste. He glanced at Rumple again and the look in the captain's eyes was enough to make him tremble, and for a moment he wondered if the captain would order his death.

"Once you're well enough to get back on your feet, I want you gone. You're dismissed."

"Y-yes, sir," Rumple breathed.

The captain turned and stepped toward the exit. Rumple called out to him, stopping the man where he was, "T-the battle? What happened?"

The Captain stared hard at him for a long moment, saying nothing. At last he bowed his head. "They're dead."

The world around Rumplestiltskin froze. Dead. All those men. All those soldiers with whom he'd trained and fought. They were all dead. His breathing began to grow erratic, and his chest began to hurt from the pain he felt within. Tears began to slide down his cheeks, and he wound his arms around himself, rocking back and forth as he wept. His sobbing grew louder, his sorrow and relief covering him like a blanket. He was alive; the seer had been right. Had he gone on the battlefield, he would have been killed. But it was hard to feel grateful when the knowledge that all those men he'd come to consider comrades were gone.

Adi was gone.

It was a pain akin to losing his father. He loved Adi dearly and had foolishly entertained hopes of bringing the lad home and introducing him to Belle. He'd planned a life where he had a dear friend with whom he would share his triumphs. Adi had been kind and caring, and Rumple felt an overwhelming hatred rise up within him that he'd let his friend die without him.

But he had a son to go home to now. He could not begrudge his choice when he'd done it for his child. Exhausted, he slumped down on the pallet, the pain in his leg so constant and throbbing that he barely noticed it in his state, and fell into another fitful sleep. He dreamt of war and sorrow and loss. He dreamt that Belle's love withered and turned to hate. He dreamt that his son grew up to resent him. He dreamt that his sacrifice had been all for nothing.

~000~

Belle remained in her father's home for the week after Bae's birth. She fed, changed, and cooed over her son, unable to keep the tears away from her eyes as she gazed down into the child's deep brown eyes. He looked just like his father. She mused with a smile, and she bent down to press a kiss to the squirming boy.

Bae made a noise, and Belle laughed as she picked him up, cradling him carefully against her bosom. "We'll get to go home soon," she said in a light, lilting voice as she rocked her son back and forth, "And soon, Papa will be home. He'll be so surprised to see you!" She laughed at the thought, "Can you imagine, little Bae? Your Papa will walk inside and see you and ask, 'Who is that handsome fellow?' and I'll get to tell him, 'My dear, he's your son!' He'll faint on the spot, and you and I will tease him about it for years."

Bae blinked and stared at his mother, uncomprehending. He reached up with his tiny hand, and Belle let him grip one of her fingers. He squeezed with a surprisingly strong grip, and Belle sighed as she glanced away from him. "I just hope you Papa gets back soon. We've hardly heard anything about the war in months."

The front door burst open a moment later, startling both Belle and Bae. The boy began to cry, and Belle glanced up at her father in annoyance, "Papa!" She scolded, "You can't be so loud-" She paused when she saw his face. "Papa, what is it?"

He looked haunted, as if memories of horrors a lifetime ago had suddenly risen up within. He handed her an opened letter, and she carefully took it, balancing Bae as she did so. She read the letter, an official report from the King's Army, and her stomach sank at the words.

She read it twice over, words like demolished, hopeless, and dead hitting her like painful slaps. The entire troop had been killed, save a few generals and captains and some others who had remained at the camp. Belle's grip on Bae tightened, and she sank to her knees.

"No," she whispered, staring at the letter, her eyes dull and lifeless, "It can't be."

"Belle," Maurice said softly, kneeling down across from her. He gently took Bae from her, and she let him without argument. "There's more," he said, and his tone hinted at a great reluctance to tell her anything.

"How can there be more?" Belle asked softly.

Maurice sighed, "Word has begun to spread from the front. Apparently in the midst of the battle, there was a bit of a scandal…"

Belle blinked up at him, "A scandal?" she asked incredulously.

Maurice nodded, "Apparently one of the soldier's…bashed in his leg to keep from fighting. He's been dismissed with dishonor. He's been branded a coward."

Belle began to breathe heavily as understanding dawned. "Rumple," she cried, looking to her father pleadingly, begging him with tear-filled eyes to tell her she was wrong.

"They never said his name, but they referred to him as a small man; a spinner from our village. Not many people fit that description." Maurice sighed and reached out to his daughter, "I'm so sorry my dear."

Belle allowed her father to hug her, both of them cautious of the infant between them. Sensing their distress, Bae began to cry, but Belle made no move to comfort him, choosing instead to cling to her father, "But that means he's alive," she whispered brokenly, "Rumple is alive. He can come home."

At Maurice's silence, she pulled back. "Can't he, Papa?"

Maurice rested his hand on Belle's cheek, "He'll come home," he said, "But he brings home a great deal of shame with him."

Belle said nothing, instead reaching out to take her son. She absently bounced him and after a few moments the boy's cries turned into soft whimpers. Her father told her he was going to fix them some tea, but she remained quiet, lost in her thoughts. Maybe the reports were wrong, she thought. Maybe he hadn't done something so horrible to himself. Maybe he would come home in as good condition as he left.

But, she wondered as she glanced down at her son, who was so perfect and deserved so much more than his parents could ever give him, what would she say to her husband if he returned and the reports were true?

~000~

Rumple was restless. He'd been moved to a camp farther from the front to recover. He was treated with disdain and cruelty because no one believed he was worth the effort it took to care for him. No one was shy about their feelings toward him either. It was no secret to him that he was hated and reviled by everyone in the new camp. He hated and reviled himself. But he was on the mend, at least to the point of being able to walk, though with an impressive limp.

He recalled the first time he saw his leg after the incident. He'd pulled the sheet back from his bed after the captain left him with the devastating news of his comrades' deaths, and he retched on the spot. His leg was black with spots of purple and green splattered throughout. It was also crooked from the shattered bones and torn muscles. He looked bent and deformed, and his knee was flat and twisted. He was bound with wooden splints to help straighten him out, but he knew immediately that his leg was never going to work properly again.

When he was able to walk, which had taken time and a miracle, he began to hear the insults. The name 'coward' followed him all over the camp. Several times, Rumple had been tempted to just leave, screw the pain and ruin he would further cause his leg and just run until he was falling face first before Belle, begging her forgiveness. [Run on] He knew he would have to beg. He was not blind to the suffering that he'd caused his family. Belle would be pitied, and his child would be ridiculed. But it would be worth it, in the end.

It had to be worth it.

In the end, he was driven out under cover of darkness and shame. The insults had become too much, and though he was in pain, the pain he felt in his heart over the loss of Adi and his desire to just go home had finally pushed him to the point of no return. He'd heard others call him a coward, a name he associated with his father, but recently the insults had grown more vile. Men would share narratives of how they thought he should die, and while the others laughed, Rumple's stomach turned and he often found himself emptying himself of his supper behind the small, poorly constructed tent he slept in.

His focus was on his family, so he left without a word. Each step was agonizing, but he pushed through. He'd been away almost a year. It was time to go home.

~000~

In the days that followed the news of Rumple's act, Belle moved in a haze. She returned to her home, putting on enough pleasantries so as not to worry her father, but the moment he'd leave, she'd collapsed, crying and cursing and wishing she knew for certain what had happened. She hardly knew what to think; reports were not always reliable. Belle refused to believe Rumple would do something like this. He'd wanted to go. He'd wanted to be brave and show everyone what he was capable of. She needed him here, to hold her and soothe her worries; to tell her that it was going to be fine. Because she wasn't fine.

Grabbing Bae and bundling him up carefully, Belle slipped out of her home and made her way to Agda's, doing her best to ignore the looks the villagers she passed gave her. Agda was her friend; surely she would offer her counsel.

When Belle entered the hut, Agda looked up from the pot she was stirring. "I wondered when you might come by," she said in a motherly tone, waving Belle inside with her hand. She poured some tea for the two of them, then gently took Bae from Belle's arms. He began to squirm, and Agda cooed and bounced him. Her love of children was evident in the tender way she held him.

"I have no potions to soothe a breaking heart, love," she said after a moment, "The best cure for that is this one right here."

Belle nodded and took a sip of her tea. "I just don't want to believe it's true."

Agda hummed in response, "We never want to believe the worst in our husbands, love."

"I don't know what to think or what to feel. I don't know what I'll say to him when he does arrive. I feel so…"

"Confused?" Agda offered, and Belle nodded.

"Yes. I'm angry and hurt, and I just don't understand why he-"

"And you won't until he comes home and tells you what happened," Agda informed her. "Best to stop fretting over something you can't do anything about, and when the time comes, you'll know what to say."

Belle nodded, and breathed out in relief. "I've been so lost in my own head," she whispered, "thinking about what to say and what to do. I suppose I don't' really know what I'll do until I see him."

"Either hug his neck or break it," Agda said with a laugh. Belle blinked in surprise, but quickly her shock dissolved into a fit of giggles. They laughed together for a while, and the release was cathartic for Belle. After two more cups of tea and a half hour of Agda cooing over Baelfire, Belle returned home feeling more at ease than she had in months. Whatever happened, she would deal with it when the time came. Until then, she had a son to take care of.

~000~

Rumplestiltskin walked during the night and rested during the day, not wanting to be spotted by anyone who might inquire about his situation. He would get no pity from anyone. He walked for days, and the journey seeming much longer now that he was walking on a hobbled leg. It was painful work taking each step. His leg burned and ached and throbbed, but Rumple forced himself onward, knowing that soon it would all be over. He had no money and no food, but he scrounged up berries and drank from creeks. He slept on grass and propped his leg up on rocks. He didn't stop to bathe, though he smelled and his uniform was stained and torn.

He walked until he could no longer bear the pain, then he resorted to dragging his foot, leaning all his weight on the walking stick he carried. It slowed him down further, but he pressed on. When the pain became too great, he ripped off a piece of his uniform and wadded it up, sticking it in his mouth to bite down on. He broke out into a faster walk then, biting down hard when the pain nearly caused him to collapse. Tears began to stream down his cheeks, but he bit the cloth harder and kept going. He was almost home; he could feel it.

After another three days of agonizing walking, Rumplestiltskin saw the edge of his village and laughed. The pain was so constant he barely felt it anymore, and he broke out in a limped run. The thought of being so close to Belle giving him a burst of energy.

He kept going, delirious and elated and desperate. There were only a few people out, and he brushed by them, oblivious to all but his family. He shouted Belle's name. It was the only thing that would fly from his lips. His voice broke, but he called out again, hardly able to believe that after all this time, he was home.

He reached the door and threw it open, his eyes desperately searching for his wife and child. Belle whipped around in surprise with her eyes wide and sharp as she stared at him. He needed her, so he stepped forward to reach for her, but his eyes rested on what she was holding in her arms.

"Rumple.."

"What's his name?" Rumplestiltskin gasped, the pain in his leg quickly overwhelming him now that his adrenaline was spent, and he sagged heavily against the wall. He pointed to the child again and asked breathlessly, "What's his name!?"

Belle's shock at seeing her husband in such a state was undermined by her wondering how he even knew about the child. She imagined so many reunions despite her attempts to think of anything else, but she hadn't thought of this.

"How do you know it's a boy?" She asked with concern, as he waved his hands frantically.

"Never mind that. What did you name him?!"

She couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips as she looked down at the child. "Baelfire. His name is Baelfire."

"A strong name!" Rumplestiltskin declared, pride shining through the pain in his eyes. He lost his balance then. His leg was no longer able to support him, and he collapsed on the nearest stool. He stretched his leg out in front of him, crying out as pain shot through him.

"He's going to need all the strength he can get," Belle whispered sorrowfully as she gazed down at Rumplestiltskin's leg. So it was true, then.

"What do you mean?" He asked suddenly feeling sick. He glanced around to see if there was a bucket in which he might retch, but there was nothing near enough for him to grab. He swallowed thickly and watched her with wide, frightened eyes.

"Is it true?" She asked as she placed the baby in the small basket that was his bed. She then turned and knelt before Rumplestiltskin, but did not touch him. "Did you do this to yourself? Did you injure yourself so you could come home?"

He gaped at her, wondering how she could possibly know that he'd done this to himself. She seemed to sense the question resting on the edge of his tongue and informed him, "News traveled from the front." She paused only a moment and then asked with a broken sob, "Why did you do this to yourself?"

He held his head down in shame. "A seer said you were with child."

She blanched and leapt to her feet. "You did this because a seer told you I was pregnant?" She asked. Her words held no malice, but he could tell she was angry.

"You don't understand," he said softly, swallowing the pain that was quickly overwhelming him. "She knew my name. She knew your name. She said you were with child. She said that when we rode in on cows that I would leave my child fatherless."

"Cows, Rumple?" Belle asked, staring at him in disbelief.

He glanced down to the floor, unable to look at her. "We received horses for the battle," He told her. "The captain told us to fetch our saddles. They're nicknamed cows because they're made from leather. We were going to ride cows into battle. That was when I knew the seer was telling the truth…"

He had never felt so foolish. It didn't matter that everything the seer had said had happened; he felt like a fool, and he deeply feared that when he looked up, he would find nothing but contempt in his wife's eyes. When he did look up at last, he was surprised to find no hatred in her eyes. Only sorrow. Only hurt.

"Belle, I-" he stammered, no longer sure of what he was thinking. He felt physically and emotionally drained, and the realization of what he'd done to his family was slowly starting to seep in through the pounding in his body.

"They're calling you a coward," she whispered, as she knelt back down in front of him. "Everyone says you did this because you were afraid; because you were just like your father." She sniffed and wiped away a stray tear. "I refused to believe it; but Rumple, you do realize that no matter what you say, no matter what you do, you have branded yourself - and this family - by this," she said, laying a gentle hand on his leg. He hissed in pain, and she removed her hand and stood once more, straightening out the wrinkles of her blue dress.

"Stay here," she commanded. Had things not been so glum he would have laughed. "I'm going to get some water for your leg. I'll be back." She turned back to the small basket and picked up their son who began to fuss. She gently placed the boy into her husband's arms. "Say hello to your son," she whispered. "I'll be back in a moment."

She grabbed the bucket that was next to the door and slipped out, but Rumplestiltskin hardly noticed. All his attention focused completely on the babe in his arms. His eyes filled with tears as he gazed down into the small yet wide eyes of his son who seemed to relax in his father's arms.

"Hello, Bae," he whispered in awe, "I'm your Papa, and I'm never going to leave you." The baby lifted a hand and wrapped his tiny fingers around Rumplestiltskin's nose. Rumple laughed gently, amazed at how much he loved this child, even after only knowing him a moment. He suddenly felt complete. A part of him that had always been empty now overflowed with warmth and love, and he knew that despite the fate he'd brought upon himself, he would do it again, if only for this precious moment.

Some time passed as he sat and cooed and talked to his son, and it was only after the babe began to doze that he lifted his head and realized that Belle had not returned. A sudden fear gripped his previously warm heart and wrapped it in a chill he hadn't felt in some time. He began to panic, but he could not move, not without disturbing his son and certainly not with his leg in the shape that it was. Belle would not abandon him and their child. He knew Belle and she was not one to run away from even the worst of problems.

He continued to fret, but his fears dissipated the moment the door opened a few minutes later. Rumple turned as best he could, and he relaxed when he saw Belle enter with a bucket of water. He watched in silence as she busied herself with pouring some water in the kettle and with placing it over the fire. Her shoulders were slumped, and her eyes were red and swollen, but she said not a word, putting all her focus on her task.

When the kettle whistled, she poured the hot water into a bowl, grabbed a rag, and trudged over to where Rumplestiltskin still sat. She placed the bowl at his feet and dropped the rag carelessly into the water. Leaning over Baelfire, she picked him up, rocking and humming to him in an effort to ease the transition. She placed him in his basket and tucked the roughly knit blanket around his tiny frame. Offering him a tender smile, she kissed him gently before turning and kneeling at her husband's feet. Rumple watched as she swirled the cloth in the water before lifting it to ring it out. He hesitated for a moment, then bent over and struggled to roll up his pants leg and remove his boots. When he heard Belle gasp at the sight, he shut his eyes in shame.

"You need a doctor!" She declared, dropping the rag. She stood, as if she were going to rush out to fetch him now, but Rumple grabbed her arm, stilling her.

"Not tonight," he whispered. "I'll last another night."

Belle stood still for a long moment, unsure whether to do as he wished or fetch the doctor regardless. He looked at her pleadingly, and she sighed. Kneeling back down in front of him, she reached out and gently brushed her fingertips over his knee. "Why would you do this to yourself?" She asked, though he sensed that she was not directly speaking to him.

"I don't know," he said weakly, "The thought of our child growing up without his father was not something I could allow." He took her hand in his to stop her from wiping away the dirt and grime from his leg.

"You grew up without a mother, and I grew up without my father. We know the pain of not having a parent. I just… I had to make a choice. I could either fight and die in the name of the king, or I could flee and live in the name of love. I may be a coward, but I will bear the name if it means my son can have a father and my wife can have a husband."

She grasped his hand tightly and held it up to her cheek, nuzzling against his palm. "But you should also know the pain and hardship of growing up with a father who was branded a coward," she protested. "I did not know your father, but I know you. I know that you're brave and that you are a wonderful husband. I'm sure you will be a wonderful father, but Rumplestiltskin, you've damned your child to the same fate you so desperately wanted to save him from."

He began to weep, tears spilling hard and heavy down his cheeks. He knew she was right; but how could he regret living?

"Do you wish I had stayed?" He asked solemnly.

"I don't know what I wish," she admitted after some time. "I'm angry; I can't deny that. I wish you'd thought for one moment before acting so rashly!" She paused and sighed, "But I am certainly relieved that I will not be a widow." She sighed and released his hand so that she could resume washing his leg.

"I know that others would say it would be better that you had died. There is glory and honor in a soldier who comes home on his shield, but I would be a liar if I said I'm not overjoyed that you're home. It doesn't seem real," she admitted as she rang out the rag again. "I just wish the circumstances were different."

"It will do nothing," Rumplestiltskin said at length, "But I am sorry for what I've done to this family."

She dropped the rag into the bucket and leaned over to kiss his wounded leg with tender lips.

"As am I," she agreed. She looked up at her husband and offered him the first smile since he stepped through the door. "But, by the gods, I'm so glad you're here." She reached up and kissed him, her tears wetting their cheeks and he brought his arms around her, sobbing as she allowed him to deepen the kiss.

He pulled away with a sigh and let his hands slide down her sides. "I love you," he whispered brokenly. "I'm a fool, but I love you."

"I love you, too," She said as she stood, offering him her hands. "Come on," she said as she helped him stand. "You should rest. We will continue this conversation in the morning. And I need to fetch the doctor to look at you. But for now I just want to sleep in my husband's arms."

He positioned himself in their bed, careful of his leg. She checked on their son, and when she was content that he would not wake any time soon, she joined Rumplestiltskin. Mindful of his leg, she curled up close to him, and he wrapped himself around her as best he could.

Sleep did not come easy for either of them, the weight of their future heavy and stifling, but they took solace in knowing that they would not suffer alone. The years to come would not be easy, but Rumplestiltskin had faith. He had his wife and his child, and for him that would be enough.

Author's Notes:

So this is the chapter that everyone has been worried about! I hope you all are pleased with Belle's response. :-)

And thank you for your response to last week's chapter! I'm glad you guys are enjoying it!

Chapter 16 will be up Jan. 31!

A big thank you to both sirensong24 and my husband for looking over this and correcting my errors!

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time in any form. The quotes featured in this chapter are from the episode "Manhattan" and I claim no ownership over them. I do own Agda.