Disclaimer: As you can probably tell from the fact I'm rewriting seasons in fanfiction, I don't own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters.

For a few precious seconds as she started to wake up, Belle thought everything was okay. She stretched and reached towards the other side of the bed, unperturbed when she didn't feel her husband. He was probably up in the tower already or, if she was really lucky, making break-

She flexed her fingers and realized she had fallen asleep clenching something. When she glanced down and saw the dagger it all came back to her. Her husband was in a cell somewhere in Snow and Charming's kingdom, of his own choosing over a clearly outlined deal, and she had promised him that she would keep her distance. She had her assignments, and maybe four months in which to complete them before she would be cursed for twenty-eight years... And if she failed some of the assignments then everything might be for nothing.

She grabbed her pillow and hurled it across the room with a scream. How was she supposed to get anything done when her chest ached like this?

She forced herself up the flight of stairs she had climbed thousands of times before, to the tower she knew as well as her library. But there was no one up there waiting for her, nor was there the expectation that someone would come there later. She was alone in the alchemy tower, surrounded by things that reminded her of her husband, and she almost collapsed under the pain of it.

The only thing that kept her moving forward was seeing a basket and a leather bound book on one of the tables. A few strands of straw were still in the basket, a basket she must've filled dozens of times when its home had been next to the spinning wheel. The book was unfamiliar to her though, bulging with inserted pages. A large gold engraved "B" was on the front and as Belle opened it, she was greeted with the title page; it simply said "The Plan" in his most elaborate script. As she scanned it she saw centuries' worth of notes compiled into a comprehensible mess, details crossing and recrossing other details, subplot upon subplot piled together.

The ache in her chest was replaced with a burn. The Plan Rumplestiltskin had put every ounce of effort into; The Plan that he had checked and rechecked and then checked again to make sure it went smoothly. The Plan that had nearly cost them their love when he was too afraid to share it with her.

A strand of gold bookmarked a section near the back and Belle flipped to it. At the top he had scrawled "Honey-Do" and then proceeded to make a long list…a list that terrified and ignited her. This was it… Their best chance at finding their son was on her shoulders and if she failed…

She looked at the first item on the list, in his familiar handwriting, and tears pricked her eyes.

Remember that I believe in you. I know you can do this, and I know that you will not fail me. I trust you.

II

Emma longed for the days when dragon slaying wasn't on her list of things to do. She reached reflexively for her gun, accepted the hilt of her sword instead, and drew it with a grace that almost distracted her. Mary Margaret had been just as fluid in readying an arrow.

"I'll blind him so you can go in for the kill," she commanded. Emma saw its throat starting to glow but it held back, studying them with an eerie amount of intelligence. It dipped down to charge and Mary Margaret pulled back.

"Rumford, NO!"

The arrow was released but went wide, hitting one of the dragon's scales. However the dragon was equally distracted by the new voice and the shrieking that accompanied it.

Belle was getting to ridiculous levels of badass, waltzing in with a smaller dragon on her heels. The wyvern cut in front of its parent, huffing a few sparks in warning.

"These are guests, Rumford," Belle scolded, "We do not eat guests."

He didn't seem particularly apologetic, snorting almost derisively at the order, but he didn't further his attack. Mary Margaret stared at Belle, and Emma admired her ability to still be taken aback by Belle's random talents.

"Belle why are the dragons listening to you?" She asked.

Belle turned to Mary Margaret, her face completely serious, "I am Belle of the House Stiltskin, Mother of Dragons, the Unbroken, Khaleesi of the Western Mountains, Lady of the Enchanted Forest, Queen of the Darkness and Litera-." As the last word fell from her lips, she seemed to notice exactly what the dragon's nest had been made out of, "…you are so grounded, Rumford."

Emma didn't know if dragons actually understood English, but at the very least he could understood her tone. His gills undulated and he took a few steps backwards, his posture sinking ever so slightly. Belle glared at him for a few more seconds before turning back to her comrades, her news more important than a pair of dragons wrecking havoc.

"It was here, the water from Lake Nostos."

Mary Margaret tilted her head to the side, folding her arms thoughtfully, "The same lake that restored Frederick and…" She trailed off and glanced at Emma with a sad expression that Emma couldn't comprehend.

"Yes," Belle said, "With any luck it'll do the same for the wardrobe ash."

"So what do we do, just mix them together?" Emma wondered.

Belle smirked, privately amused by something, "That's a question I'm going to have to sleep on."

III

"Gold's Pawnshop and Antiquities Dealership."

"We have a lead."

It took Mr. Gold a moment to reorient himself from "customer" mode to "Charming" mode, "You'll have to forgive me; apparently I missed the first part of this conversation."

"On a way to get the girls back, we have a lead."

Mr. Gold straightened in his seat, resting his free arm on his desk, "You have my attention."

"Good but this information does come at a price."

He rolled his eyes, glad that at least the previous prince was enjoying himself with their role reversal, "Fine, what's your price?"

"Same thing I'm asking of Regina; civility. If you think you can manage that, then you're free to come down to the mines."

He frowned, concerned by both the location and the blanket price, "What's down there?"

Astrid stood on the outskirts of the group of fairies, sharing nervous glances with Leroy as both groups waited for the arrival of the Dark One. For a short while she had been able to glimpse her Dreamy again; a wide eager smile, optimistic after striking proverbial gold. She even had an excuse to be around him while her sisters examined the diamonds to ensure that they were of high enough quality to be turned into fairy dust. But they were untainted, and even when David showed up with Regina in tow the mood hadn't been spoiled.

But then David, after a short deliberation with the Blue Fairy and the Evil Queen, announced that he'd be calling Rumplestiltskin to have him join them. Blue tried to dissuade him but he was adamant about his inclusion.

And maybe considering her situation, Astrid could have empathized with a man separated from his lover… If it hadn't of been the Dark One.

The crunch of stones under sole caused everyone to turn towards the mine's corridor, where the Dark One was picking his way carefully to where they stood. He looked so…vulnerable. Not even her cursed memories could recall a time that Mr. Gold didn't step with the utmost certainty.

He glanced over at the flock of fairies and Astrid's sympathy dried right up as he grinned wolfishly at them, clearing enjoying their discomfort at having him there. Leroy stepped in front of her and adjusted his grip on his axe and really, the idea of continuing to be a nun seemed very silly as she observed his protectiveness.

"Dark One," Mother Superior greeted coldly.

He sized her up, the grin never leaving his face, "Well well… I suppose misery does make for strange bedfellows."

"Enough, Rumplestiltskin," David said. The pawnbroker looked over the convent head one more time before moving closer to the pocket of diamonds. Mother Superior hesitated a moment before going to join the other three.

He was enjoying the Blue Fairy's anxiety as he moved towards the raw diamonds, examining them longer than was strictly necessary before pulling back.

"This'll do," he agreed, "It'll wipe out the entire supply, but it should sustain a portal."

"And where exactly would this portal be?" Mother Superior asked.

He turned to her, smirking, "The wishing well out in the woods… It's where I brought magic back."

"If we create this portal, then what?" David interjected, "We go through and find them?"

"Not exactly," Regina said, folding her arms, "Even if we make a portal there's no guarantee there'll be a way back." She glanced at Mr. Gold for confirmation and he nodded.

"Then how will they know if we create a portal for them?" Mother Superior asked.

Both Regina and David looked to Mr. Gold and he shifted, remembering the conversations he had had with both of them. He wasn't sure he wanted to bring this up to the blue pest…but if he didn't they certainly would.

"…I have a connection with Belle," he admitted, "I can talk to her, tell her where to go to find it."

The reactions varied; Mother Superior was skeptical, while Regina looked concerned and as though she had something on her mind. He met David's hopeful gaze and gave him a tentative smile, "We could have them home as early as tomorrow."

Rare stirrings of optimism rose in him and he found himself believing that. Believing it could be so soon that she'd be back home.

After promising to reconvene the next day, the haphazard round table dissembled and Mr. Gold went on his merry way out of the mines. He was aware after a short time that he was being followed.

"Something you needed, dearie?" He asked, "Or are you just trying to find the exit?"

"You weren't kidding about your dream chats," she said flatly.

He frowned, "No, I was not."

She took turns pressing her thumb over the base of each of her fingers, trying to crack her knuckles, "So then that other thing you said… About my mother…"

"Must be true," he finished for her, "Belle has no reason to lie."

"You told her about Cora?"

"It came up once."

The entrance gaped in front of them, the sun just starting its descent. He was tempted to go lie down and get some shut-eye, see if maybe she was waiting for him... But he couldn't just sleep nonstop until she came for him, no matter how tempting the idea was.

"You do realize that they won't make it through." He turned towards her. She faced him unapologetically, "If my mother's bent on getting here and she has any inkling of what they're planning she'll be the one coming through the portal."

"I can handle her," he insisted.

"That's not what she's told me," she folded her arms, "You know what she's capable of; you know if she gets here it won't just be unpleasant for me."

"She won't get through."

He knew how weak he sounded; it was hardly more than a mumble. Regina stared at him as if he had lost his mind...then broke out laughing.

"You're not serious, are you? You can't be. You honestly believe that they will defeat her... Or maybe you just prefer denial because your wife is part of the group." She leaned in, lips curling back as she enunciated each word, "Cora will chew Belle up and spit her out, and you are a lovesick fool to think otherwise." She turned and walked off, calling over her shoulder, "You might cling to blind faith but I have Henry to worry about."

Mr. Gold leaned a bit heavier on his cane. In any other situation he would have gladly agreed with Regina, if not actively help her to keep the Queen of Hearts from crossing over. He knew good did not always triumph; he knew Cora had decades of experience over Belle when it came to magic and Hook no doubt had a dozen sinister tricks up his sleeve. It was a matter of wolves against lambs, and no lamb could fight off or flee from a bloodthirsty dog.

But it was Belle... The woman who had stayed after she had been cast out and captured as a valuable pawn. The wife who hadn't bat an eyelash at marrying him, taking on his curse or continuing with a plan that had no guarantee of reuniting them with his son. He was helpless to do anything but believe in her. She had never failed him before; he just had to cling to hope that somehow she'd defy the odds, because of clichés he had long ago thrown out.

IIII

The only way she could think to describe the difference was comparing a river to lightning. Before Rumplestiltskin the magic in her veins had been a gentle current; she had been aware of it, could even make it stronger or weaker as it ebbed between the two of them. But now, as he was sealed behind magic-prohibiting barriers, the curse of the Dark One was solely on Belle's shoulders. It struck through her in sporadic intervals, whims and terrifying amounts of ability raging through her, demanding release.

Trivial things caused disproportionate emotions; the fly had buzzed too loudly so she had killed it with a flick of her wrist. She barely stopped herself from transporting to her father's manor and showing him just how sorry he should be for the way he had received her that last time. She had set fire to an idle spinning wheel in the east wing because it reminded her too much of what she had seen in the vision with Cora.

It wasn't a good idea for her to be visiting the prisoner...but he needed to eat. No matter what had transpired she couldn't deny him the basics.

She knocked but there was no reply. She tried a second time and finally entered anyway with a tray. Prince Thomas was sitting at the far end of the room, eyeing her and the food suspiciously.

"Good morning," she said, dawning a smile she didn't feel, "Brought you something to eat." He remained silent and Belle felt flickers of ire in the pit of her stomach, "Should I just set this on the desk or...?"

"Is it poisoned?"

Belle, thinking it was a joke, giggled and set it on the desk, "Of course it's not poisoned, why would I poison you?"

"Right," he muttered, "You'd want your hostage in perfect trading condition, wouldn't you?"

It wasn't a particularly biting comment; on a scale of glancing to impaling it just barely scratched. But it was enough. Before she was aware she had done anything he was pinned to the wall, an invisible force choking him as she stormed across towards him. She heard herself speak but she wasn't willing her lips to do anything; they moved at the command of something deeper than her conscious.

"I didn't ask for this anymore than you did! It was my husband that made the deal and your wife that accepted! And yet we're both swept up into this because your wife refused to pay the price she promised after she already got what she wanted! That's not how life works, you don't get to change your mind and keep what you paid for! You don't get to have your cake and eat it too! You can't keep a baby you've promised to someone else!"

She didn't know what broke through; him struggling for air, his bulging eyes full of fear, seeing her hand reaching towards him like a claw ready to tear at him. Get a hold of yourself, Belle; this isn't who you are. This isn't you.

Belle took a ragged breath; Prince Thomas slid down to stand on his own shaky legs, trying to regain his breath. Her arm retracted and wordlessly she retreated before he could notice she was trembling as well.

What the hell had that been? That white hot flame that had taken over her? Was that...was that the Dark One's curse? Was that what Rumple had dealt with when he had been alone with the power? She broken into a run but she knew that wouldn't help her. Whatever it was, it had come from inside of her, hidden in shadow until now.

For the first time in her life, she was terrified of herself and what she was capable of.

II

"...the combination of the fairy dust on the well and the ash with Lake Nostos should be enough to make sure you, Emma, and Snow all get through," Mr. Gold concluded, sitting across from Belle on the floor of their imaginary room, "To make absolutely certain it works, you shouldn't mix them unless you're at the site of the lake."

Belle nodded, quiet for a moment before she spoke, "We have a way back...but I have no doubt Cora's waiting for our next move. The last thing I want is to take her and Hook home with us."

Mr. Gold frowned as he considered, "What do we have in the castle?"

"Nothing that would keep her at bay for very long; we took or destroyed most of the more dangerous potions, and the ingredients to make any." She raked her fingers through her hair, "We've got Rumford and Baden, but I don't want them getting hurt..."

"The squid ink."

Belle cocked her head to the side, "The squid ink?"

"That was used to "trap" me." His fingers curved into quotes around the word, "It should still be in the cell, you'll just need to draw it off the parchment."

A beat passed before she drawled out, "We need to go all the way back to the dwarf mines."

"If you have any better ideas let me know." He reached out and touched her hand, "What's important is that you make it home safe and sound."

Belle took his hand and lifted the back of it to her cheek, "I don't think Emma and Snow would be very happy to hear that."

"Yeah, well, I think even virtuous Prince Charming wouldn't mind his wife tripping you if it meant he got to see her and their daughter again." He turned his hand, splaying his fingers across her skin, "It's almost like you're here..."

She rested her head into his palm, gazing at him thoughtfully, "We have a plan, then? Ink, lake, well, home?"

"Aye."

"And I reckon we still have at least an hour before either one of us has to wake."

"Aye."

She bit her lip suggestively. He shook his head, incredulous.

"Despite all your brilliance, my dear, your mind never ceases to return to the gutter."

"I have needs," she said innocently, "You knew that when you married me."

He rolled her onto the ground and she giggled, letting him pin her and cover her neck in kisses.

Mary Margaret woke early, restless and needing to occupy herself. So she went to sharpen her arrows and after that tested her bow, checked for the dragons and gathered breakfast. She returned to the room they had slept in to find Emma just as wide awake.

"Belle up yet?" She asked. The blonde shook her head, staring at the woman in question. "...well will you wake her then? I don't think she'll mind."

"I'm not waking her up, you wake her up," Emma protested and Mary Margaret noticed the grin on Belle's unconscious face, her body squirming under its covers, "She was moaning earlier, it was the most disturbing thing I've woken up to since I left Boston."

She rolled her eyes and knelt beside her friend, gently shaking her shoulder, "Belle...Belle..."

Slowly, Belle stirred, opening her eyes reluctantly. She sat up and stretched, looking as though she had a very restful night.

"Hopefully you actually accomplished something before mindscrewing your husband?" Mary Margaret said.

Belle smirked and nodded, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and not even denying that was what she had been up to, "Everything should work fine; they've also found fairy dust so they're hoping to open up a portal on their end to make it easier. The only complication left is your grandmother-in-law and the pirate, but if we go back to Rumple's old cell we should be able to stop them."

"What's at his cell?"

"Squid ink, the stuff you used to..." She trailed off, "...it'll hold her long enough for us to make a portal and go through it."

Emma folded her arms, "How far is this cell?"

"A day or less," Mary Margaret murmured, "If we leave now-"

The light was suddenly blocked out and the trio turned to find Baden hovering outside the window. He chirped at them before flying up and presumably over. Belle frowned, moving to the opposite window and trying to figure out what he was trying to tell them.

She didn't see them at first, but once her eyes moved beyond the gardens and walkway she noticed a black parasol with two dark figures standing at the gate.

IIII

There was crying outside. Normally he wouldn't care but it sounded like it was directly on his doorstep, and it wasn't the sort of desperate wails he had come to expect. It was a squawk, piercing and determined. So he had gotten up and gone down to see what in the gods' name was going on.

A basket had been set on his manor's porch and he stooped down to see what was wrapped up in that blanket. He jerked back at the gash across the baby's face; not a fresh wound, but a gaping unsettling scar. Two tiny hands reached towards him, sapphire eyes set into the palms. They met his own and it was disturbing how aware they seemed.

It wasn't a huge mystery why a strange child had been left on the doorstep of the Dark One, and he wasn't too concerned about where she had come from. Nor was he too sure what he'd do with the baby but surely it was useful.

Belle bolted upright, baffled by the dream, if she could call it that. It felt like she had been there, as though she had been the man who had found a baby seer on her doorstep. At least she thought she had been a man in the vision/dream...

She couldn't shake the unsettling realism of it, and she was halfway to the library when she heard a whisper inside her head.

"Caretaker, I summon thee... Belle..."

It sounded like Gaston. Belle had yet to be summoned like this; usually that line was saved for the Dark One. Maybe the whisper was just part of whatever insanity came with being the sole bearer of the curse...

"Belle! Please gods, I don't have time for a letter. It's your father, Belle, he's-"

Again the magic occurred before she could even think to use it. She was in a hallway of her old home, Gaston in front of her. His wheelchair rocked back and he seemed shock that his plea actually worked.

"What's wrong?" She spat out.

Gaston frowned, "No one's sure. He's been under the weather for a few weeks-"

"Weeks?!"

"It didn't seem serious, then he collapsed this morning."

"Well where is he then!"

Gaston nodded in the direction of Maurice's chambers. Belle ran.

Hazily she noticed the guards, threatening to keep her away with what to them were weapons but to her were mere toys. They spun away like a child's top and she threw open the doors. It was the same terrifying scene that she had endured as her mother lay dying; clerics and healers milling about as a pale, still shell of her parent rested in a bed that made them seem too small. She threw herself at it.

"Papa..."

He looked at her briefly, shock turning to love turning to pain. She took his hand and was revolted by how cold it was. He was dying... Her papa was dying. But it was fine. It was fine, because she was no longer the five-year-old girl who was forced to watch the gods take her loved one away. She wasn't helpless any longer.

"Please papa, let me heal you. I have his power right now, all of it; we don't have to involve him. I can make you better, but you have to let me. Please papa, just let me save you!"

She sobbed, fear clawing at her mind, at her throat, at her chest and back and eyes. She was barely keeping herself from screaming, from haphazardly throwing whatever magic she could conjure at him. He may have disowned her but she still desperately loved him, she'd still do anything for him short of end her marriage.

"Papa..." She choked out, "Papa please... Let me help you..."

He turned his head from her and pulled his hand away. He stared at a spot on his covers, his eyes blank. He didn't say a word as she pleaded to him.

"...I love you, Papa..." She begged, "I don't want to lose you..."

He continued to ignore her.

Belle considered killing him. She considered slapping him, choking him, grabbing him by the chin as though he were an insolent child to force him to look at her and tell her to her face he'd rather die than accept her. She considered simply healing him without his permission; she didn't care about whatever price it would take. She considered walking away and tell him she hoped his pride would be enough to keep him living.

Honestly for the next several hours she didn't know what she did. She could've fallen asleep for all she remembered. Next thing she knew the same voice that had called her there was pulling her out of the state she had worked herself into.

"Belle."

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat, but didn't slip out. How ridiculous... How ridiculous to hear Gaston's stern I-am-a-respected-knight-and-you-will-listen-to-me voice after everything she had become. She could bat her eyelash and he'd go back to being the trimmed rose for her vase.

She glanced around. The cluster had gone, scared away by whatever she did. Her father hadn't moved at all, except it looked like he had actually started crying at some point. Oh, and her jaw ached, and her palms were a little bloody from her nails cutting into them. She turned to Gaston, who didn't seem to care in the slightest what she was, only that she wasn't doing what he wanted.

"It's time to go," he stated.

"I guess so," she said as flippantly as she could manage, numbly getting to her feet. Gaston led her out of her father's chambers as brusquely as he had escorted her out of war meetings just a few years ago.

He led her into the gardens and she wasn't sure if it was because he actually remembered that the place soothed her or because it was away from the manor's other occupants. Her knees gave out and she sank onto a bench.

"He's going to die…"

"He might," Gaston agreed, "But you're hardly the only person in the world who can save him. It's no poison or curse that's done this… His body is just betraying him."

Belle glared at him, clenching her teeth, "I could fix this… I'd pay the price if it meant he'd be alright."

"Belle." He tried to be gentle, but all she could hear was condescension, "The last time he accepted a magical solution, he lost his daughter."

"That wasn't his decision to make!"

"It doesn't matter, it still cost him more than he was willing to pay, and you wonder why he balks."

Belle wiped at her eyes, "He hates me..."

"He doesn't hate you, he just..." He fumbled for the right words before giving up, "...well he doesn't hate you."

She looked down at her lap, twisting her wedding ring around her finger, "...I'm losing my mind, Gaston."

"Understandably."

"No, it's not just this." She ran her thumb over the strands of gold so meticulously twisted together, "Ever since Rumple was locked up the entire weight of the curse has been on me... I'm not myself... I have these dreams...and I react too strongly..."

Gaston didn't seem particularly surprised at the news; word of Rumple's capture must've spread like wildfire in the days she had spent in the castle trying to sort everything out. He wheeled closer to her, "It's going to be alright."

"Really?" Her father was dying and she only had a few months until the curse was cast... She could hardly keep from killing her hostage, how was she supposed to get everything in place on her own?

Why did he leave her? How could he possibly trust her to manage without him?

Gaston leaned forward in his chair as if he wanted to reach for her, "Really. If there was one person I would trust to be the Dark One, it would be you."

Her ex was ridiculous. Here he was, in a wheelchair, insisting that she was trustworthy after she had scared away literally everyone else in her old home. He had changed so much from the distant soldier she had been engaged to what seemed like a lifetime ago. She stared down at his legs and he shifted them.

"...I could fix you," she murmured, "Make you whole again. It is my fault."

Gaston was silent and she prepared herself to heal him. He hesitated, and then forced the word out, "...no."

"No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm used to it now."

Belle knew better than to believe that but when she looked up at him, his face was as compliant as stone. Whatever his reasoning he wasn't about to tell her... And the truth was likely to be just as pathetic as the lie he was insisting on.

III

For the first time in days, Mr. Gold woke up excited. He smiled up at the ceiling, stretching out.

"We're going to get her back today," he murmured. Figaro wasn't paying him much mind, trying to paw open the bedroom door.

Mr. Gold sat up, amused, "We've got time, cat; even if Belle transports them to the cell I doubt she'll do it to get to the lake, too much energy," he grinned, "I already know which wand I want to use for the job."

Figaro let out an impatient yowl and he laughed softly, opening the door for the stupid cat. He sprinted down the hall and Mr. Gold got ready, paying extra attention as to how he looked. He was convinced that tonight his wife would be back where she belonged; in his arms.

His optimism carried him all the way to the shop, where it fumbled and dropped out of him. The front door was open just enough for someone careless to have popped it open, and he could feel the residual magic from the lock. Everything was in relative order, except for whatever cabinets or drawers were in there were thrown open. He quickly went to the back.

His macabre collection of fairy wands stood on the shelf in their rack, ranging in color and detail. As he suspected one was missing, and he would bet his last straw there was no longer any fairy dust in the mines.

IIIIII

So I wouldn't recommend starting any large writing project while in the midst of personal upheaval, and I've made several transitions over the course of this story. I'm sad that this is the only update in nearly a year, and that it's basically building tension for the next chapter/next arc. I have contemplated giving it up but I can't; it's something I have to see through to the end. And now that life is, knock on wood, back to an even keel I should be able to focus once again and try to pump this puppy out. And in all honesty I'm super excited to get these guys back to Storybrooke.

Sneak peek: (Again, last sneak peek was a liar because I moved a lot of plot stuff around) Everything's coming to a head; the trio against the duo, Regina versus Rumple and, in the past, Belle versus Rumple. Who shall prevail, and who shall fail? And does one really have the moral high ground when checking their spouse's pensieve?