Chapter five

Rumplestiltskin was at his shop before the sun rose the next morning. Belle had offered to go with him, but he knew well enough that she could turn over and go back to sleep while he could not and had encouraged her to do so. There was no need for both of them to be up because of this.

He had told Henry once that once one controlled the dream there was nothing to fear, but he was yet to find a way to control these. Every turn he took in them ended in his rather brutal demise. His first thought had been that perhaps they were being pulled to some sort of realm, much like the Netherworld. It would explain why he and Henry were seeing the same scenarios, but the more he and Belle looked into it, the more he was inclined to think it was a spell of some fashion. Belle had uncovered several that had elements attached to the situation, but nothing matched perfectly. There was a possibility of a conglomeration of spells, but that would take a sorcerer of immense talent and Rumplestiltskin was fairly certain he would have recognized that. Well, as certain as he was of anything anymore.

He loosed a long breath as he switched the magnifying glass into place so that he could see the small piece he was tinkering with. The bell chimed over the door as it opened, but he didn't dare risk a look just yet. His mind worked well with his hands moving, but he still needed his eyes on it. He ignored his early customer until she cleared her throat, obviously not interested in waiting any longer.

Dark eyes flickered up and he found a pair of hazel ones staring back at him. Storybrooke's very own savior stood in the center of his showroom with her arms crossed and dark circles under her eyes. "Miss Swan. What can I do for you?" Rumplestiltskin asked in a tone that clearly said he didn't really care what she wanted. If she was there as a followup to the break in a couple of weeks prior, he thought she was a bit behind on her job, not that he wanted her poking around his life.

"You and I need to have a talk, Gold."

That never boded well. "About what, dear?"

"You know what."

He set his tools down. So much of having time to think. "I'm afraid I can't possibly imagine what could be so important at-" he looked at the clock "- not yet six in the morning."

"Henry," she stated definitely and took a step forward.

For a brief flicker of a moment Rumplestiltskin nearly retreated just as far, the latest nightmare welling up in his mind. What if this was how it began? What if she left here and some terrible fate befell her, leaving him as the last one to see her alive? Not for the first time since this had begun he reached for the future, finding the scattered pieces of the puzzle sharp as broken glass and he immediately let them go, a headache working its way in. "What of him?" he asked in a strained voice.

"He's sneaking out of the apartment in the middle of the night, lying to Regina and me to hang out with you, and who knows what else! What is going on?"

"Nothing so scandalous as you seem to think," Rumplestiltskin answered. "My son is gone, Miss Swan, as you are well aware. I thought it past time to form up a relationship with my grandson. Is that wrong?"

The blonde huffed, shoulders slumping and while she didn't seem to want to give into obvious logic, it was there and staring her in the face. She looked as tired as Rumplestiltskin felt and he thought he'd seen quite a few tired faces recently. Perhaps Henry had been wrong and they weren't the only ones dreaming these dreams.

"What were you expecting to hear?" he asked reasonably, reaching for a rag to wipe the grease from his fingers.

"I don't know," she answered softly. "You never took any interest in him when Neal was alive."

"I took a great deal of interest in him. I went to Neverland fully intending to exchange my life for his."

Emma chewed at her bottom lip.

"And then I did die to make sure he and the rest of you were safe. How easily these sorts of events are overlooked by you lot. If that's all you have, Miss Swan, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave me to my work."

"Do you blame me?"

Her question was so sudden that it almost startled him. Rumplestiltskin's dark eyes flickered up and he found a woman that was desperately trying to cover her own fears standing there. "Your family has had the uncanny ability to overlook all the help I've provided to them when it suits long before you came along," he said carefully, but something in him knew that wasn't her question.

"For Neal."

"Why would I? Zelena was responsible for my son's death."

"But it was my magic that pulled him out. If I hadn't, he might have lived. You might have been able to... I don't know. Save him, maybe?"

He shifted his weight and leaned against the counter. He was far too exhausted for this conversation and all that it implied. She was waiting on him, though, and he was expected to speak. Every time words rattled in his mind they sounded superficial and insignificant. He'd focused his anger in on Zelena. Bae had asked Emma to separate them and the girl was so inexperienced in using her powers that she had done it on instinct. He'd never allowed himself to contemplate what could have happened had she waited or if she'd known how to take a different path in it.

"Perhaps," he said slowly. "There's no way to know now."

"But you don't blame me for his death?"

"Where is all of this coming from?"

She shrank back at that one and looked like she didn't want to answer. He sighed, hand growing to the bridge of his nose and he tried to will away the headache forming. This conversation needed to end and the only way to do that would be to offer reassurances. "Miss Swan, my son loved you, regardless of how you felt in return."

"I-"

He held up a hand. "That was between the two of you. I'd rather not know the details, if you please. You were my son's love and you are my grandson's mother. You are family, Miss Swan. Zelena was to blame, not you."

She loosed a long breath, looking like a weight was at least working its way from her shoulders. An awkward silence threatened the little shop, but thankfully she simply nodded and mumbled an unnecessary thanks before turning and leaving Rumplestiltskin to his thoughts.

She stood alone on the Main Street. There was something wrong, but she couldn't quite remember what it was. It was a little like the haze of the curse that she had lived in before Jefferson had freed her from her prison below the hospital and sent her to Rumple. Her memories of how she'd arrived were hazy, as were the reasons on why she'd be there in the first place.

"Belle, what are you waiting for?" Henry demanded, his hand clamping down on her wrist and he was dragging her along the street. "We've got to stop them!"

"Stop them?" Belle echoed.

"From hurting him. Or worse. Gramps thinks Grandpa Gold killed my mom."

The teen pulled her along and she tried to remember. They'd been researching something having to do with this, but her mind was blanking on the details.

Shouts became clearer as they moved closer to where a mob of people had gathered on the street. Henry started trying to push past them, Belle following. She hated the feeling of forgetting.

"Let us through!" Henry yelled and he still hadn't let go of her hand. "You've got to stop!"

A man that Belle didn't recognize stepped in, blocking the opening the teen had been diving for. "You're not going to want to watch this," he said and Belle managed to slip by.

She could see David just ahead and her feet carried her after him, an urgency pushing her forward. He was rounding a corner into an alley, sword drawn and anger twisting his face in such a way that it hardly looked like him. Rumplestiltskin was leaned up against the wall in the alleyway, staring at the blond prince with a resigned sort of look. His name bubbled in her throat, but was cut off when it felt like all the air had been pushed out of her at once. David lunged forward and Rumple didn't move out of the way as the sword ripped through him.

Belle's scream finally made it into the open as her True Love crumbled to the ground, David stepping back. She was on her knees next to him before she realized she moving, her hands moving uselessly to try to stop the flow of blood from the wound. He looked up, his gaze already fading and his lips barely moved to speak, though no words made it out. He went limp then and Belle felt a sob bubbling up as she turned accusing eyes on her husband's killer. "How could you?"

"He went too far. It had to be done, Belle," David answered softly. "He had to be stopped."

"Stopped from what?" she demanded, but everything was fading around her. She felt like she was falling, but just as quickly she felt something steady under her, keeping her afloat. She blinked her eyes open, finding her surroundings very different than they had been just a moment before. She was in her room, curled up and hugging a pillow in her own bed, and tears still leaking from her eyes. She lifted her hands, finding them clean and clear of the blood that she'd been so sure Rumple had shed, and slowly she understood what had happened. It was the dream. The same nightmare that woke him night after night. If she'd had it before now, she hadn't remembered it, but this one stood out starkly against any other fading dreams from the night. It made her feel ill even as she clutched the pillow in her arms tightly and pulled in what she hoped were steadying breaths. Finally, she reached for the phone next to the bed.

The clock there read ten in the morning. She'd turned over and gone back to sleep after Rumple had left for the shop, unaware of just how exhausted she was from rising with him every time the dreams left him shaking. It was her fingers that trembled now as she found his name at the top of her call list and pressed it, the ringing filling to room as she put it on speaker. "Good morning," he answered, his voice almost cheerful. It had been some hours since he'd seen what she had.

"Rumple," Belle breathed, but that was as far as she got before the sob took over.

"Sweetheart, what is it?"

"I had... I think I had a nightmare like you and Henry have been having." She felt a complete fool for calling him like this. She should have waited until she had herself under control, but she'd needed to hear his voice so badly. She'd needed to know he was alive. She had lost him to death once before and she wasn't willing to do so again.

"Belle," he murmured into the phone and she could hear all the hurt on his voice that she felt. "Give me just a moment to put things away and I'll come home."

"No, you don't need to do that," she said quickly. He'd been balancing this for nearly two solid weeks now. "I think I'm going to do some research while it's fresh on my mind. Perhaps I'll find something new. I just... needed to hear your voice."

"Any time you need to," he promised. "Perhaps we can go out for lunch today?"

She smiled. Her husband knew her well. "That sounds perfect. I'll give you a call when I'm on my way. If you don't hear from me..."

Rumple chuckled. "I know how wrapped up you can get in your studies. I'll give you a call in a few bourse if I don't hear from you."

"I love you," she whispered and she needed him to know it. The nightmare had felt so real, as if he might be stolen from her again.

"And I you," he assured her. "I'll see you in a bit."

"In a bit," she agreed and clicked the phone shut. She couldn't do anything by sitting around and worrying. Belle wouldn't let me go again, so it was time to buckle down and find exactly what this threat was. She was determined, and nothing in the worlds could stop her when she was determined.

It hadn't been a particularly slow day, as days at the pawnshop in Storybrooke went. According to Belle, people hadn't just flooded the shop when they'd first been put back down in the Land Without Magic as they had when their memories came back under the first curse. They'd been too busy pointing fingers and trying to find out where their last year had gone, from what he understood, to ransack the shop that seemed to accumulate various items with each new curse. Once they had their memories back and the Wicked Witch had been deal with, they'd been unable to enter the shop as Rumplestiltskin had decided that he and Belle were beyond overdue for time alone. They'd spent just shy of three weeks at his - their - cabin away from everyone for their honeymoon.

Today seemed to be the day that the citizens started trickling in, making claims and demands to the point that he thought he might have trouble getting away from them to go to lunch when Belle finally did decide to call. He didn't have to throw them all out, though, as he thought he might. Regina and her simmering rage did that. It filled the air as she entered, interrupting the first conversation with a customer that day that he hadn't minded. Marco froze where he and Rumplestiltskin had been discussing the price of an old clock that he'd once made, sold, and had somehow shown up in the shop this round of curse-casting. Regina's voice was icy cold as she bit out, "You're done," to the poor woodworker and sent him on his way.

Rumplestiltskin leveled a glare. "This is a place of business, dearie."

"Good, because I have business to discuss with you. Namely the little fact that you've put my son in danger." The bell rang as one poor soul tried to enter. "He's closed," she snarled, sending the young woman skittering out.

Her former teacher snorted. "What is it with the two of you today coming into my shop and tossing about absurd accusations? Henry is perfectly safe when he's with me. Likely more so than when he's not."

"Really? So you know exactly what you're dealing with in this Operation Sandman?"

The shop owner moved around the counter slowly. He could feel her eyes on him but he didn't hurry his movements as he checked to make sure they were alone and switched the sign over to closed, locking the door for good measure. Henry and he had agreed to keep this quiet. Regina would blow it out of proportion, they both knew, but it seemed that something had caused him to cave to her. Sometimes it was difficult to remember that his clever grandson was an exhausted little boy that had expected answers and still had received nothing for all the faith he'd put into his grandfather.

That didn't mean he wanted Regina anywhere near it. Or him, for that matter.

"Henry's name for it, yes," he said once the lock was in place and he'd turned back to her. "It's under control."

"Is it? Because from what I gather someone's still out there that is able to control dreams well enough to pinpoint people to cast the spell on. That's some heavy magic and-"

"And it's under control," Rumplestiltskin growled, eyes flashing dangerously and he was secretly pleased to see Regina flinch just a little.

She snorted, regaining her regal composure. "Listen, I know that you're still a little miffed over the fact that I told you that killing Zelena would be a mistake-"

The Dark One whirled on her and she went stiff in effort not to take a physical step back from him even though he hadn't moved any closer. "Is that what you think I'm angry over? Zelena got hers in the end - and she deserved that end - but you should have known better than to hold my dagger hostage just so the others would think you'd succeeded in playing hero for a day."

"Playing… How dare you? I didn't hold anything hostage. I gave it to Belle that same day."

"You should have given it to me, you spoiled child." He was in her face now, but when he'd crossed the room he couldn't be sure. Anger that he'd pushed down over and over again was boiling up and it took everything he had to catch ahold of it before his curse turned it to damage-inflicting magic. "Giving it to Belle was the coward's way, and you know it."

"We discussed it, and the general consensus was-"

"General consensus!" he barked. "What was it, dear? That I can't be trusted? That someone needs to keep a leash on me? Be careful, Regina, there are still many things that Snow and her charming prince don't know that you did over our time here during your curse. If they were to find out, if someone were to tell them, it'd be a short trip to put you on a leash of your very own."

"Is that a threat, Rumple?" the Evil Queen demanded, pulling herself up to her full height.

"An observation. Be careful who you crawl in bed with, dearie. They're a fickle lot, your heroes."

"I've changed and they can see that," Regina said, her voice quivering a little and he could tell she wanted to yell and scream back. Let her. Let them burn the whole damn town down between them. This needed to be out in the open before the real danger finally showed its face. "You, on the other hand, never can as long as you are under your curse. That was why we decided to give the dagger to Belle. She didn't sell her soul to a demon for power."

"I sold my soul to protect my son. It's nothing you wouldn't have done for Henry."

"Well your son's dead and look what you're left with."

She knew what she'd said as soon as the words left her and her eyes went wide. Regina's mouth dropped open and the apology that tried to tumble from her lips was so stuttering that it hardly sounded like words. "Just get out," Rumplestiltskin breathed.

"That's not what I meant," she managed somewhat coherently.

He was shaking with the effort. His curse was screaming at him to take her head off - literally - and shatter her. How dare she come to his place of business and drag him into this? But this was Henry's mother, adopted or not, and his grandson would never forgive him. That was the only thing keeping her alive in that moment, but he needed her gone or she wouldn't be alive much longer. "I said get out."

This time she complied, scrambling for the door and she left him standing in the middle of his shop with his grief and his anger and his pain that threatened to overwhelm him. Perhaps he was just the monster that her newfound friends saw him as - a creature that needed to be leashed for everyone's safety - but she'd been wrong about him choosing to go against his curse. He'd done it once before and he'd died in doing so. It was a little fact that seemed so easily forgotten in the midst of everything else. Even in the pit that had been the depths of the Dark One's Vault, he'd known that his family was safe, and in knowing that, death had been better.

Belle had finally pulled herself from her studies when she realized it was nearly one in the afternoon. Lunchtime was quickly passing her by, and it wasn't every day that Rumple was willing to go over to Granny's for lunch. From the noise in the background when she'd called, it had sounded like there were several people in the shop, but he'd promised to get away as quickly as he could. That would leave her time to walk the few blocks between their home and Granny's and likely still beat him there.

That had been the plan, anyway. Belle turned from where she'd locked the house - a silly habit, really, as his wards stretched down to the bottom step - and she felt a chill race up her spine that had nothing to do with the colder temperatures. She glanced around, trying to find the source of her discomfort, but found that she was utterly alone even as she walked down to the sidewalk.

The sun was peeking through the clouds overhead and it was warming the winter afternoon up at least a little. Belle pulled her coat a little closer as a breeze tried to prove the thought wrong and she stopped, certain that someone was watching her. She turned, ready to catch them in it, but once again found no one. Apparently the nightmare had spooked her more than she had realized.

She was into town when she first spotted him. He was tall and possibly lean, but it was always difficult to tell with the way people bundled in this weather. His clothes seemed a bit old fashion, but that wasn't out of place in Storybrooke where people from an entirely different time and place had been set down and expected to blend. If he hadn't been along for the last trip he was likely more lost than most. He wore a hat, something like a fedora, and Belle decided that was what gave him an old-timey, stepped-out-of-a-black-and-white-picture sort of look. She didn't know when he'd come to join her on the streets - the lunch crowd had passed and it was a work day, though that hardly meant anything with any consistency in Storybrooke - but when she sped up he quickened his pace and when she slowed down, his pace eased just a little. He was inching closer and closer, though not in a way that most people would notice. It wasn't until she took a corner quickly and found that he did as well that she was certain she was being followed.

He must have noticed the change as well. Her stalker sped up and Belle found herself beginning to jog to stay ahead. She rounded another corner and then immediately ducked around another and into an alleyway, flattening herself against the brick wall to let him pass by. Her mind whirled, trying to push out the terrifying nightmare from earlier and she waited, keeping her breathing as steady and quiet as possible. A few moments ticked by and nothing happened. She breathed a sigh of relief, pushing herself from the wall and ready to go straight to the shop. The back door was just up the alley and Rumple had fixed it so that she could get in even if she didn't have a key. The wards would keep her safe and if he wasn't there still she could call him and he'd come over. It seemed silly, but if her strange shadow had anything to do with the nightmares - and Belle was not a strong believer in coincidences of that nature - then it was best that she and her love face it together.

"Excuse me."

Belle whirled, startled by the voice and she saw a man blocking her path. It wasn't the same one from before, but he was dressed similarly as her mysterious stalker had been and he tipped his hat, his eyes focused in on her with such intensity that she had to focus on standing tall against the gaze. "I'm sorry, but I'm in a bit of a rush," she tried.

"Off to meet the Dark One?" That had been a new voice, belonging to yet another unfamiliar face. This one was accompanied by the man that had been following her. As he removed his hat, tilting his head just a little to the side to study her, she was quite certain he, at least, looked vaguely familiar.

"We don't wish you any harm," he told her, stepping forward and his voice was soft. "We wish to relieve the burden you carry."

"What burden?" Belle asked and one of them stepped a little closer than she was comfortable with. "Who are you?"

"I am Caiden and these are my brothers. You carry a heavy burden with you. We can help free you from it."

Belle let out a small sound of surprise as she bumped into one of the strange men and he reached for her purse. She caught hold of it as he pulled, not willing to let it go so easily. They were common thieves.

Well, that wasn't quite right, she found out quickly as a gust of magic took her off her feet. Belle slammed back into the brick wall and saw stars. She stayed on her feet, though, and blinked until her vision cleared. "I'll give you one warning. Give me back my purse and let me pass."

The third man chuckled. "She has spirit, Cai."

"We're not here for her. Only the knife."

Belle's eyes widened as they pulled the dagger from her purse and fear welled up within her. She'd told him she didn't want to carry it around like this.

"Brother," the man who'd snatched her purse called, gaining Caiden's attention. "This isn't the Kris Dagger. It's a fake."

Belle stood wide-eyed, the words bouncing around in her head for a moment before they finally made sense. A fake. Rumple had given her a fake dagger.

"Where is the real one, girl?" one of the brothers snarled, but it was Caiden that stepped forward, pinning her to the wall.

"Tell us and we will do everything in our power to free you."

"I'm not a prisoner," Belle growled, forcing down the anger and the hurt at the realization. He'd lied to her. Again. He hadn't trusted her or in their love. Again and again he made the wrong choices and this time it was costing them dearly. No, she reminded herself sharply. That could be dealt with later. This had to be handled now. "I'm no one's prisoner. I choose to be with Rumplestiltskin. I love him, and my love isn't so easily swayed." She slammed her heel against his foot, causing him to jerk back enough for her to take off down the alley.

She didn't get very far as a hand grabbed the back of her coat, hauling her back towards them. "Stupid, bitch. Little good protecting that demon will do you."

Magic stirred and Belle thought for a moment that it was the three men, but she heard a voice that she would have known anywhere. He'd heard her call his name, and her love had come for her. In that moment everything else could wait.

TBC

Notes: Has anyone else been having trouble with uploading new chapters? I copy and paste from GoogleDocs, but the last couple of times I've had to paste over an old document here in FFN just to get it to take. It's a bit irritating, but I'm trying to find out if it's the site or something else.

Next time - The truth about the dagger is revealed.