Pain flared in his big toe making him swear out loud as he caught his weight on…

A dusty armchair?

He pushed magic into his foot to heal it as he looked around and realized…

He'd taken himself to the attic of his house?

The attic…why on earth would he bring himself up here? The last time he'd been in his attic was-

Never. He'd never been in this attic. The attic he had been in wasn't the attic in this house, not in this realm. It was in the Underworld. The attic had been the space he'd used as his own lair. But he'd barely had two thoughts about it since he'd returned. Why had he brought himself back to this place now?

He wasn't sure. And it wasn't really worth exploring, especially since the feeling it left him with deep in the pit of his stomach was unsettling.

Belle. It was late and she should be home by now. But a bit of magic through the house told him that he was the only one present. Naturally. They went to work together; she would probably wait for him to return home. With the single happy thought of getting out of the attic, he took himself back to the shop, expecting that he'd find Belle waiting for him in the back room, ready to go.

But there was no one. No one but him and the light pulse of magic the hat gave off when he returned it and the true dragger to the safe. That task completed, it was all too easy to glance across the street at the library and see the lights still on.

There she was.

Alone. His magic told him that no one else was in the library, and so he locked the shop up for the night and walked to the library, preparing himself for what he might find. It could be anything. By now, Belle would have told the others everything that she'd learned about Ingrid, as well as everything that she'd confessed to him earlier about Anna and Elsa. Alone as she was now, that could be the product of a million different reactions from the others. Rejection, a desire for information, a battle afoot, or…research…

She was alone, her heartbeat steady and calm, her attention so pulled to the books in front of her that she didn't even appear to realize he'd come into the library. That was comforting at first until he caught the smell of…magic. A little of his, but also…was that the Apprentice he smelled? Merlin's magic?

"Belle?" he questioned, making her jump out of her seat as he quickly scanned the table. Books. She was surrounded by books, just as she always was. The one before her certainly smelled of his own magic, but then...what did he smell that reminded him of Merlin and the Apprentice?

"You scared me. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he answered honestly. "You weren't at the house or the shop…library is always my next best guess."

She let out a sigh as her gaze darted from window to clock as if just now becoming aware of the time. "Yes…sorry, I…I lost track of the time," she commented as he moved closer to the table to examine it carefully. Her heart hitched as he pulled out the chair closest to her. As he looked at the table, it was easy to see why. Granite, unicorn hair, his own magic as well as a bowl from the shop. She'd taken some of his things again. What she'd made well, there were only so many spells that required granite and unicorn hair. Given the books out in front of her, he'd bet anything there was also a compass guide in there, a Seeking Spell. Specifically, one meant to reveal something hidden from sight on paper.

That was something he'd come back to. What he was most interested in at the moment was the other magic he was scenting.

"I uh…I talked to Elsa," she commented. "And Emma and Hook."

"And what did they tell you?" he asked, looking over the books in front of her. Arendelle histories. Those were definitely what she'd been using his magic on. But why had she needed to use magic on books in the first place?

"Between what they know and what we know…we know the Snow Queen's plan. I came back here to do a bit of research on her motivation, and I just…"

"Lost track of time, you mentioned that…"

There.

The second his eyes fell over it, he realized that what he was looking at was the source of the magic he was smelling.

He reached out and grabbed it off the table quickly, looking it over carefully.

It was a scroll of some kind. Small. It was something that would all too easily fit in the pocket of his jacket if necessary. But the magic within it…it was powerful. And it was certainly something that had once been in Merlin's hands. What on earth was it doing here?

"There's magic in this," he commented as he untied the ribbon that bound it together and began to timidly unroll it.

"We think it's how the Snow Queen got into Storybrooke," Belle proclaimed, making his own heart miss a beat as she took the scroll from him.

This? This was how Ingrid had found them all those years ago? A scroll?

"We don't know where she got it or who gave it to her or even if she did it herself, but somehow it got her into the town during the curse before the cloaking spell came down," Belle commented, pointing out the last two lines to him of…

It was a prophecy. A poem written in ruins that one of the Dark Ones in his head knew and translated for him. It was about Emma. Her name was right there! It spoke of how she was to be the Savior and…well, he'd be damned. Right there, the last few lines that Belle was trying to show him...instructions. It directed the reader to a small wooded area that seemed uninhabited but was actually the "place the Savior was destined to return."

"What is hidden lies in plain sight, for the moment you finish reading this line, the unseen will become visible."

Fuck. It was a prophecy and a spell. Something with Merlin's fingerprints all over it!

"Now, how did she manage that…" he wondered aloud for Belle's sake. But he didn't really have to. Ingrid had already told him in their first conversation that she gave the hat away to the Apprentice in return for passage to this world. She'd said the Apprentice had opened a doorway for her and given her a prophecy to take her to Emma. He just hadn't realized it would be something like this.

All at once, the quiet in the room crept up on him. It left the back of his neck prickling with discomfort. Quiet was something that he and Belle excelled at, but given the events of the day and what he was holding in his hands…

He set the scroll away from him, even though he was dying to escape to his shop with it. Belle might grow suspicious if he did such a thing, and he wasn't sure he wanted to reveal all his cards to her at this moment. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the other issue at hand and reached over her to grab the bowl that she'd taken. He made a dramatic show of inspecting it and giving it a firm whiff before setting it back down.

"Granite, unicorn hair, a bit of my own magic, and a compass arrow." The fact that she didn't flinch at his bet told him he had guessed correctly. "Ingredients to reveal what has been hidden from sight. Especially useful for paper. Where on earth did you get something like that?"

"Your black bag…" she answered, her heart suddenly hammering away. "I'm not magical, but I can use things that are. I learned while you were…away. It's why I had all those books in your shop. Which also reminds me that you might want to check it. I used certain potions and ingredients over the last few weeks, and I don't know where or how to get more. Unicorn horn, rose petals, locator potion, entrapment potion…I think I gave the freezing potion back, but I'll check later."

She said it all with an air of guilt in her tone as if she expected that he'd get angry. But anger wasn't what he was feeling, at least not entirely. The feeling of knowing that she'd gone rifling through his black bag and managed to perform magic-it certainly left him all twisted up inside.

None of what she'd said really came as a shock to him. He'd known since he got back that there was magic missing, and she'd really already confessed that it was her who had done it once before. But he felt annoyance, perhaps like the kind that came from a fly invading one's private space. He wasn't fond of her going through his things at the shop, especially when he was hiding something very precious over there.

But, deep in his chest, there was also the stirring of pride. Her mind never ceased to impress him and her ability to teach herself and use magic when she herself was not magical was a feat that he'd forever take pride in. And when it came down to it, the fact that she knew how to take potions that could protect her from villains like him, he rather liked the sound of that.

"I wish you wouldn't," he commented, looking over the books to which she'd applied her concoction. "Something like a freezing potion might actually come in handy for you, though I'll admit that I don't necessarily like that you're dabbling in magic this powerful without assistance."

"It's just little things," she insisted. "I know more than I am actually capable of doing."

Yes, but little things where magic was concerned had a way of becoming much bigger than anticipated. For instance, carrying around a freezing potion, it seemed, had progressed to crafting a dust that would uncover the hidden. Which wasn't exactly advanced magic, it was something that Regina would have been able to do within a few lessons, but the fact that she'd taught herself and done it without magic to begin with…that made the pride he felt in his chest rear up all over again.

"You are…quite remarkable," he considered. "Sometimes it astounds me just how much you take in."

He glanced over to smile at her, expecting to get one back only to see her shoulders sag and the corners of her mouth turn down in a frown. "How can you say that after today?" she questioned softly. "After everything I did, then after hours of searching through these books and finding next to nothing-"

"You are finding next to nothing because you are exhausted," he interrupted before she could take that any further. "Today…"

Today, they had both made mistakes—tragic, terrible mistakes that they'd need to focus on in the days to come—but he wasn't about to let a few mistakes tear them apart. Marriage was hard. He knew that firsthand. Forgetting that marriage was hard was not going to be a mistake he made twice. He knew where that would lead firsthand as well.

"Today took a toll. You need to rest now." They both did. And when they woke up, tomorrow could be a new day that they started on the right foot in every aspect of their lives.

But instead of nodding and giving in to his advice as he expected, she only shook her head and sat forward in her chair again, looking at the books before her. "I don't want to rest."

"I do," he urged, moving his hand to her cheek to pull her eyes from the books. She'd hardly looked him in the eye all day, no doubt a result of the mistakes she'd made, but he didn't want to dwell on this anymore. He wanted to put it in the rearview mirror and drive as far away as possible as fast as he possibly could. Sleep was a good way for them both to push the reset button. "I can't sleep unless you're with me; we've been over that."

A reminder like that should have been enough to make her give in, even half-heartedly. But he could see how torn she was, how she longed to get back to what she was working on even though bloodshot eyes and exhaustion meant she'd never find anything. He didn't like being the reason she felt torn in two, so perhaps a compromise would be better.

"It's late. Maybe instead of going back to the house tonight, we stay in the upstairs apartment," he suggested. This way, she wouldn't be far from her work and could get back to it the second it was demanded of her. "I think we both still have some clothes and belongings here. That'll do for the night and get you back down here first thing in the morning without much difficulty."

It would also allow him to get back to work first thing as well. He'd much rather be in their bed at home, of course, but he'd learned early on that their bed was wherever they both rested together. If she wouldn't give in to him-

He didn't need to finish that thought because, after a quiet pause of consideration, she nodded in acceptance of his plan. Before she could argue or come up with a reason not to leave, he rose and locked the door to the library, then grabbed her hand and led her up the back stairwell to the apartment he hadn't been to in…well over a year.

Sometimes, the time he'd missed in the Underworld and under Zelena's thumb crashed into him so unexpectedly that it threatened to knock him off his feet. To his clear-cut memories, it might have felt like only months since he'd last been in this apartment with her, considering marriage before Lacey had invaded their lives. But in reality, it was-

"I uh…I could sleep on the couch…" Belle stuttered in the bedroom, looking down awkwardly at the bed before them. "If you preferred…"

Her words shook him from his thoughts and forced his eyes up to meet her own. Her? Sleep on the couch? Because of what she'd done today? She'd dare to strip him of his favorite part of the day all because of her worst moment of the day?!

"Now you're being ridiculous," he muttered. He tried to contain his upset but feared that it came out in the violent pull he gave the bedding. He didn't care what she did; he just wanted to hold her like he always did. That was what he needed now more than anything. At the end of a long day that had been filled with mistakes and fear and trouble and lies, the only thing he was ever certain of was that their night would belong to them and them alone.

He needed that breath of normalcy.

They prepared for bed in silence. He stripped down; she went to the dresser to get a nightgown. He waited for her to be finished as he always did, and when he felt the dip in the bed he rolled onto his back and opened his arms for her. She moved beside him as she always did.

But she didn't settle. Not like she usually did. Somehow, she always felt like a breath, a sigh of relief, when she was beside him. Her entire body relaxed and melted into him, her skin against his, weight supporting weight. But now she felt tense. She was right there, right where she always was, but somehow it felt as though her weight wasn't truly on him, that she was trying to support herself, to be less of a bother and-

"Rumple…"

He swallowed hard as her voice cracked.

"I do love you!" she insisted. "I love you so much!"

He felt something wet splat down onto his chest as her back shuddered. She was crying. Over Anna, the events of the day, over him…it was enough to make him want to burst into tears as well. That was what was eating her up inside, causing the guilt and dismay, driving her into her work. The idea that he'd somehow ever think that she didn't love him. As if there was any world where that would ever happen.

"As I'll love you always, my Belle," he promised, hugging her tighter as she finally folded into him and wept onto his chest. "Always."

I really like how this chapter came out. There's just so much more here than meets the eye. I think one of the biggest things here is just the lesson on how one single story can be experienced differently between two people. When you read Moments you know that Belle feels like there is something between them in these moments, she feels guilt and like he's angry or upset with her, distrusting. Yet here we see Rumple really doesn't even feel that coming from her until the very end of the chapter. Now, is that because he is thinking of so many things here he's too distracted to focus on Belle? Or is it that there is genuinely nothing there? Eh, it's probably a little bit of both. But it's still interesting to see it through his eyes.

Thank you Rsbeall12 and Grace5231973 for your reviews and your reassurances that Rumple is in character. There are so many fun things happening in this chapter, so much set up and pay off that it's difficult to name. Can you guess why he accidentally took himself back to the attic? There is a reason, I promise. What else did you spot? Peace and Happy Reading!