He was in hell. That much seemed obvious.

Unfortunately, that was the only obvious thing about his situation.

He'd thought that knowing where he was might have answered questions. Instead, it gave him more.

He was in hell…but why? How had he, a Dark One, ended up here? His soul should have just gone straight to eternal damnation, not gotten caught in the purgatory known as "hell." How was there a vault here? Who was the girl who'd summoned him from the vault in the first place? And why the hell was his cabin in hell?!

Or…perhaps a cheap imitation of his cabin…

After the dog had run off and he finally swallowed his panic to really look around, he could see…it was his cabin, but not really. The floor plan was the same, and the furniture appeared to be there, but it was all in an odd state. It was his furniture but not his furniture. Some pieces, the couch, the spinning wheel, and the dresser in the bedroom, all matched what he'd known in life. But the bed was wrong, the nightstands weren't right, nor was the chair in the corner. All of it had been covered in white sheets. The bed, the nightstands, the dresser, and even the kitchen island were all draped in a white gauzy fabric that resembled more of a pall than a bed sheet. The only things that seemed to be out in the open were in the living room. Though his chair and a wheel were underneath a white sheet, the couch was not. Beside it, lying in a heap on the floor, was a white cloth that looked as though it had only just been pulled free from where it might have been draped over the couch. Aside from that…it was identical. It was the same couch he had in his cabin back home and the same blanket that he kept over the back of it for Belle, only the blanket...now that he examined it, it wasn't the same. Same pattern, same fabric, same weave, yes, but it wasn't over the back of the couch, folded nicely as Belle would have liked, but rather in a heap behind it, as if it had fallen off at some point and been exposed to this hellish world. Further examination proved that it was tattered, full of holes as if moths had been able to get at it and chew it into these rags.

And then he remembered...

This blanket was not one he had at home, not anymore. It had been. But on one of their trips up to the cabin, maybe their first one, Belle had commented that it had been chewed up and was no longer good. She'd thrown it away. She'd insisted he get a new one to warm the space and then sat there with it around her legs when she got cold at home. She'd taken it with her to the library and…

His fingers tightened over the spit of cloth he held at the reminder. Belle. His Belle…oh, how she'd weep to see this. Though the rest of the house furniture was covered, it wasn't hard to locate the dust here, to smell the mold hiding just beneath the smell of sulfur. It would have been her worst nightmare only-

No…not her worst. No, her worst nightmare she was probably living through this very moment.

He remembered what led to this. His mind had been scattered and confused when he'd first emerged from that vault, seeking clarity and understanding. The girl and the dog or dogs certainly hadn't helped, but now that he was in the quiet, he was beginning to put two and two together quite easily. And he didn't like the memories it left him with.

He remembered the feeling of holding his father still as the others stood before him, the contact from the bracelet Pan had slapped to him, overwhelming the boy and him. He remembered the way he'd grown and begged for their lives. He remembered how he'd kissed him. He also remembered the goodbyes, looking at Bae and Belle before he'd done what needed to be done to rid the world of Peter Pan. They had been unable to move, which was good because he suspected that if they could have, they would have tried to stop him, and that would have spoiled his plan and only made things worse. Though their bodies had been frozen, and he knew in his heart it had been the right thing to do, their eyes had spoken for them, filled with sorrow and regret.

Bae had been sad, but Belle...she'd been in tears. They'd been controlled, unable to move, they'd simply leaked from her eyes. He was heartbroken to be away from both of them, but it was Belle that wracked him with guilt most of all. Bae had the makings of a family. If Regina had done her job right after he'd died, if she'd torn apart the scroll and sent them back to the Enchanted Forest, then she'd also realize that Bae and Emma could outrun the Curse. They hadn't been part of it the first time it came, and Henry, a child of the Land Without Magic, wouldn't have been able to go with Regina or any of them to the Enchanted Forest. Regina would have sent Emma and Neal on their way over the town line to be with Henry as the Curse claimed them. They could raise their boy together. It would have killed Regina to do it, but she loved him; she'd do what was best for Henry. The family connection between the three of them was timid, and the destruction from what happened would be traumatic, but they would grow and adapt. Together the three of them would find happiness, he had no doubt about that. But Belle, on the other hand…

What was she going through? She'd have gone back to the Enchanted Forest with the others, but she'd have gone back without him. He was positive that she wouldn't return to her father, but he hadn't a clue where the Curse would spit her out or where she'd go from there. When it had taken them all, she'd been a prisoner of Regina, and though he couldn't imagine the Evil Queen keeping her locked up anymore, nor the others allowing it, she'd be alone. It would be a prison of a different kind for her. The death of one's True Love was said to be unbearable. To have half one's soul ripped away was a punishment he didn't wish on his worst enemy. The Magical community was still divided over whether such trauma was survivable. He'd read stories in his younger years of people who followed their loves to the grave a short while later, of the mercy that it was because those who survived the death of a True Love were never the same person they had been before. They were always changed, always different, and never in a good way.

His Belle was strong. She was young and she was healthy. He didn't expect her to perish or come after him in that way, but he couldn't imagine the pain she was being forced to live through. He'd already put her through so much. But he had no doubt that for her, this was probably the worst thing he could have ever done. For her, this was perhaps more painful than-

Suddenly he looked down at his hand and found the dagger clutched inside it.

For her, this was probably more painful than the Dark One dagger to the heart had been for him.

Had the dagger been in his hand this entire time? He hadn't noticed it until now, but it wasn't as though someone had been there to shove it back in his grasp. It wasn't as if many would be willing to return it to him once it was in their hands. What a strange feeling; he'd always been hyper-aware of the dagger, where it was, and whose power it fell to. And yet the thought of his family had chased it from his mind. He'd lived in fear nearly all his life of dying to the dagger. In the end, it wasn't as painful as being separated from those he loved.

He was crying. He hadn't noticed until he had the urge to reach up and wipe his nose and found his cheeks wet. He sniffled as he tore his gaze away from the dagger in his hand and took another look around the strange place in an effort to collect himself. This was a lot to take in, a lot to process, but he'd never in his life been one to sit around and process, at least not without a wheel. And he'd never been one to sit and stand when there were things to be done. And he was never one to dwell on the past, especially when there was nothing to be done about it. Standing here, sobbing over what was...it was helping no one.

He missed his Belle, and he missed his son. But there was no undoing the paths they'd been set on. Bae had to go forward and raise his family. Henry had his entire future in front of him. And Belle had to go forward. No matter what, it was so damn important to him that she just keep going. And as for him…

If this was hell, part of his road to eternal punishment, then he could accept that. Accepting damnation was part of accepting being the Dark One, but he wanted to know more. Knowledge was power even in the afterlife, and he wanted to make sure he understood why the hell he was in the Underworld rather than being tortured in the true flames of hell. And better yet, he wanted to understand why his fucking cabin was here along with a Dark One vault! He wanted to look around. Most of all, he wanted to find out if there was a way to look in on his family. That, of course, seemed to be a privilege that might be reserved for people who had gone to a different type of afterlife, but he hadn't exactly followed the rules in his lifetime, and he wasn't about to start now. And if this was hell, then he certainly wouldn't expect it from any other residents here, either. If there was a way to check in on Belle and Bae and Henry, he was going to find it and do it. That's what he'd spend his eternity doing, watching over his family. It was his highest priority now, and until the day they joined him, hopefully, many years into the future, then it was his greatest purpose.

So he swallowed his tears, wiped his face, and stuffed the dagger into his jacket for safekeeping. Then he picked up the blanket he'd seen piled on the floor behind the couch and folded it. He lay the blanket over the back of the chair just as Belle would have and picked up the crumpled sheet on the floor. He spread it out over the couch. Then, after a careful check to be sure there were no more three-headed dogs in the area, he left the cabin behind.

This fiction has a rather large task. In the past, we've discussed the importance of filler chapters and how they get us from one chapter to another. When I first started to write this fiction, I approached it in a similar way. It would be a filler fiction, just something short to span the time from the 3A fiction to the 3B fiction. But as I continued to write it, I started to see it less as just a fiction here to fill the time and more as a bridge between two very different Rumpelstiltskins. Rumple, between where we left him in 3A and who he is when he regains his freedom at the end of 3B (think more 4A than anything), is a very different character. And yes, I do not doubt that his time with Zelena is going to be a big reason for that (I should know, I'm writing it right now), but I started to see how this fiction could also begin to set the stage for a very different act in Rumple's life. I began to see it as an equation. Rumple in Hadestown+Rumple under Zelena's will=Season 4-6 Rumple. It's a big shift, but it's been fun to sort of deconstruct and set up the future throughout this. Be on the lookout for those little things that will have a lasting effect!

Thank you so much, Rsbeall, for reviewing the last chapter! I'm glad you enjoyed it! After everything I just said above, this chapter, I actually do legitimately see as a filler chapter. I needed to give Rumple a minute to go and collect himself, and also, I needed a chapter where we, the readers, could remember where he's at right now in his life. Coming off of 3A, we're dealing with a Rumple that was shifting his priorities more towards Belle, was content in finding Bae, was content in helping his family be a family. We're dealing with a Rumple who saw his sacrifice as the only way out and didn't just believe but knew that Bae and Emma could go with Henry to live out their lives together (for a full reminder or argument for that, go read the A/N for chapter 56 of Fathers and Sons). Now that he's done processing, now that we're done with our reminder, I think you'll enjoy where we go from here. And I think you'll also appreciate a lot of the callbacks and familiar faces we meet along the way. Peace and Happy Reading!