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“I’m done for the night, Mr. Gold. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Mr. Gold looked up at the brunette woman standing in front of him and waved his hand. “Yes, thank you, Miss French.”
“Bye,” Lizzie French called over her shoulder as she walked out the door, likely hurrying to go read the book he could see poking out of her bag. Mr. Gold rolled his eyes at his only employee who never seemed to get her nose out of a book. If he had a dollar for the amount of times he had to cut her off on another rant about some novel to remind her to work, he would be a rich man—that is, if he wasn’t already a rich man. He didn’t know why she didn’t understand that he simply did not care, but she seemed intent on making him an expert on her books.
Turning out the lights and locking the doors, Mr. Gold left his shop and limped down the road towards the only inn in town. Mrs. Lucas owed him rent and he had given her a one-day extension in a rare good mood he was regretting already. He was going to be sure to collect all his money that evening, but when he opened the door, he was surprised to see a blonde head standing in front of him.
“Swan. Emma Swan.”
He felt dizzy, but ignored it. “Emma. What a lovely name.”
The woman, Emma, turned to look at him, an eyebrow cocked, and his dizziness increased as he remembered everything he never thought possible. He pushed back the memories, forced himself to be Mr. Gold, and turned his focus to Mrs. Lucas—no, not Mrs. Lucas, the she-wolf—and her fumbling for a wad of money.
“It’s all here,” she said, pushing the wad towards him.
“Yes, yes, of course it is, dear. Thank you,” Mr. Gold murmured, taking the wad and returning his focus to the stranger—no, not stranger, savior—to smile at her. “You enjoy your stay… Emma.” She only looked confused, which pleased him. It would be terrible to have a savior who was scared of her own shadow. As he turned to leave, he caught the wolf girl staring at him and he remembered that she was one of Lizzie’s friends—no, not Lizzie, never Lizzie, Belle—and hurried out before he lost control.
Walking home as fast as his leg would allow, Mr. Gold slowly allowed himself to become Rumplestiltskin again, to remember everything, all of the hurt and pain and heartbreak, Bae’s loss, and Belle’s death. The curse couldn’t bring back the dead, but there she had been, every day for the last twenty-eight years, working in his shop as she had every day since she returned from the college she had only gone to in her memories.
He pushed his questions out of his mind as he unlocked his front door and made a cup of tea—in the chipped cup, always in the chipped cut, even when he was Mr. Gold and didn’t remember why. The savior was finally in Storybrooke and would finally break the curse. He would find out then what happened to Belle. He would have to hold his questions in, keep Lizzie French as far from the truth as possible, as far from Regina as possible.
---
Lizzie noticed that Mr. Gold was acting not like himself over the next few weeks. He was far too quiet and calculating, but even more unsettling, he was far too kind. He smiled at her every morning and asked her about the books she was reading, about her friends, about her father. He didn’t cut her off when she started complaining about the closed down library, seeming to be happy to listen, and while she wasn’t sure what had come over him, she was sure that she liked it.
Ripples of change were going through Storybrooke, and Mr. Gold’s adjustments were only the first ones she noticed. Emma Swan was staying, living with Lizzie’s friend Mary Margaret, even taking a job in the police department. Archie Hopper seemed to find his voice again after so many years of doing whatever the mayor told him, and even Graham seemed to follow Regina’s lead less.
The first real shock came when Graham died though.
Ruby and Lizzie had been watching the sheriff and his deputy making eyes at each other across the diner for weeks and suddenly, he was gone. A heart attack, they said. A young, healthy man just died from a heart attack out of the blue.
The next shock was Emma’s bid for sheriff.
Lizzie could count the amount of people who had gone against Regina on one finger, and here was this strong, brave stranger who wasn’t just fighting for her son anymore. She was fighting for all of Storybrooke and Lizzie felt giddy as she cast her vote for Emma. Now more than just Mr. Gold and Emma will have gone against Regina—there would be an exact number of votes to prove it—and when Emma won, Lizzie knew things were changing for the better.
The last and biggest shock was a private surprise. No one knew about it besides Lizzie, it didn’t affect anyone but Lizzie, and it wasn’t dropped like a bomb like Graham’s death was.
Lizzie was falling for Mr. Gold.
She didn’t want to. She knew what he was like better than most after spending forty hours a week around the man for years, but she couldn’t help herself. She still didn’t know what happened, but he had shown her a new side to him in the last few months. She was still surprised every time he made her giggle with his dark humor and brought her a new book from his own library that he thought she would enjoy. She found herself looking forward to work more and more. Her time in the shop was no longer passed in silence but rather chatter, conversations about anything and everything. He was the only person in town she could really have a conversation with. She wasn’t sure what it was, but everyone else seemed dull and glazed most of the time. Everyone except for Henry, Emma, and Regina, and now Mr. Gold.
It was with the realization of this infatuation that she agreed to let Ruby set her up on a date. She didn’t realize until she got to the restaurant and saw Gregory looking at her hopefully that Ruby had decided she should date her high school boyfriend again. Lizzie sighed, preparing for a long night, especially since it was Valentine’s Day. He was as dull as she remembered, droning on and on about various sports and cutting her off anytime she tried to share something about herself. She was relieved when her phone rang and gave her a break from him.
“Hello?”
“Lizzie? This is Emma Swan.”
“Oh, hi, Emma,” she said, smiling apologetically at Gregory, who frowned at his beer.
“I need you to come down to the station. Your father’s been arrested.”
“WHAT?” Lizzie screeched, causing half the restaurant to look at her as she jumped up and ran toward the door. “Why?”
“He stole from Mr. Gold,” Emma said.
Lizzie groaned. “I’m on my way.”
“See you soon.”
“Wait, Emma!” Lizzie said.
“Yeah?”
“Tell my dad he’s an idiot for me,” she growled.
Emma chuckled. “Will do.”
Lizzie shoved her phone back into her purse and started walking toward the sheriff’s station, fuming. “Lizzie?” She turned slowly, stopping herself from groaning, and looked at Gregory. “Is something wrong?”
“Nope, everything is completely dandy,” Lizzie snapped. “I’m really sorry, but I need to go.”
“At least we hadn’t ordered food yet,” Gregory said, smiling. “Let me drive you wherever you’re going.”
“I’d rather walk,” she said. “Bye.”
She turned and walked away as fast as she could, feeling a twinge of guilt as Gregory called goodbye to her halfheartedly. She shoved it out of her mind as she pulled open the station doors and practically ran in, zeroing in on her father sitting dejectedly in a cell.
He gave her a small smile as she stalked over to him. “How did your date go?”
“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?” she screamed, ignoring his question and feeling pleased when Moe flinched and avoided eye contact.
“He took the truck, so I thought—”
“You thought stealing from my boss would make him give the truck back?” she yelled, grabbing the bars and shaking them until he looked at her. “I could lose my job because of this, Dad, and then where will we be?”
“You needn’t worry about your job, Miss French,” Mr. Gold said behind her, cutting off Moe as he began to make another excuse, and she whirled around to see Emma and Mr. Gold standing in front of Emma’s office. Emma looked surprised, but he was smirking. “From your shouting, I can tell you had nothing to do with it.”
Lizzie flushed and muttered, “Thank you.”
Mr. Gold nodded and looked past her into the cell coldly. “Though, maybe you could help me. Not everything your father took has been returned to me. Perhaps you could get your father to tell me what he did with it? It is rather precious to me.”
“Dad?” Lizzie said, looking at him and he shrugged.
“What is it?” Emma asked Mr. Gold behind her.
“It does not matter. All that does is that it is returned to me.”
“Dad, what did you do with it?” Lizzie said, pressing herself against the bars to stare at Moe.
“I don’t even know what it is,” Moe said, avoiding Lizzie’s eye again.
“Liar,” she growled.
“Mr. French, I’ll make you a deal,” Mr. Gold said, stepping up next to Lizzie in front of the cell. “I get my possession back, and I won’t press charges.”
Lizzie, Emma, and Moe all stared at him, but he only stared at Moe, who frowned. “You really want a broken teacup back that badly? It’s just a cup,” he asked. Lizzie glared at him and he flushed when he realized his mistake.
“No, it isn’t,” Mr. Gold hissed.
Moe eyed him before sighing. “I gave it to the mayor. She said she wouldn’t tell the sheriff I stole from you if I let her take it.”
Mr. Gold swore loudly and limped out of the station without word and Lizzie turned back to Moe. “You better hope he gets it back, Dad.”
“I know,” he said and Lizzie rolled her eyes. “You should go home and get some sleep, honey. I’ll call you if there are any changes.”
Lizzie nodded to Emma and did as he said, but she lied awake for hours in her bed, hoping that Mr. Gold got his teacup back.
She woke to her phone ringing and fumbled groggily for it. “Hullo?”
“Hey, it’s Emma.”
Lizzie sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Did Mr. Gold get the cup back?”
She could hear the smile in Emma’s voice. “Yeah, he just called to say he’s dropping the charges. Your dad asked me to let you know that he’s on his way home now.”
“Thanks,” she said, rolling out of bed.
“Hey, Lizzie?”
“Hmm?”
“How do you stand working for Gold?” Lizzie could practically hear Emma’s scowl.
She laughed. “You know, I used to ask myself that every day, but lately, he’s been different.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to explain, but for the last few months, he’s been nicer, I guess,” she said.
Emma snorted. “If this is him being nicer, I don’t want to think about what he was like before I got here.”
“He was not at all pleasant to be around.”
“You say that like he’s pleasant to be around now.”
“Comparatively,” Lizzie muttered. “I need to get ready for work, so can we talk some other time? I don’t think it would be good to be late today.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. Bye.”
“Bye Emma.” She got dressed and went downstairs to make breakfast. She was just sitting down to eat when Moe staggered in, his face haggard and tired. Wordlessly, she stood up and made him a plate.
“Lizzie…” he said, trailing off when she glared at him.
“Don’t apologize, Dad,” she said, turning her back to him to put the muffins she made yesterday on a plate. “What if he hadn’t dropped the charges? What if he fired me? We can’t afford that.”
“I know, but the mayor—”
“The mayor told you to steal from him?” Lizzie said, turning around to look at him.
“Not exactly, but she may have given me the idea.”
Lizzie snorted. “You know that woman is a snake. You shouldn’t have listened.”
“I know,” he said miserably. “Sorry for interrupting your date.”
“Don’t be,” she muttered. “Ruby set me up with Gregory.” He raised his eyebrows and she grimaced. “I know. Anyway, I’m going to work,” she said, grabbing her bag and picking up the plate. “Don’t get in more trouble while I’m gone.”
“I won’t,” he said and eyed the plate. “What are you doing with my muffins?”
“Giving them to Mr. Gold,” she said, walking out of the room. “He didn’t need to be so forgiving of your stupidity.” She closed the front door firmly behind her, ignoring his yelled apology.
Mr. Gold looked up at the bell as she opened the shop’s door and smiled. “Good morning, Miss French. I trust you have your father back?”
“I trust you have your teacup back?” she said, smiling back at him when he nodded. “I brought you muffins.” She shyly slid the plate onto the counter in front of him.
“Why?” he said, glancing from the muffins to her face.
“You didn’t have to drop the charges. I wanted to say thank you.”
“No matter, dearie,” he said, turning away from the counter. She grabbed his hand before he could move away and waited for him to look at her with wide eyes.
“It does matter,” she said, squeezing his fingers.
“Well, you’re welcome,” he said, clearing his throat. “Thank you for the muffins.” He looked at them for the first time. “Did you make them?”
“Yes,” she said, flashing him a grin.
“I’m sure they’re delicious then.”
Lizzie smiled at him again before releasing his hand. They didn’t speak again until she returned from the diner with lunch. Taking a sandwich from her, he looked up at her, his expression unreadable. “Your father said you had a date last night?”
Lizzie made a face. “Ruby set me up.”
“A blind date on Valentine’s Day?” he said, smirking.
“That’s what I said!” Lizzie said, pulling herself up onto the counter. He stared at her in surprise and she raised her eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing,” he murmured, looking away from her and back at his lunch. “How did the date go?”
“You mean before Emma called me?” He laughed, nodding, and she shrugged. “It was very meh.”
“Meh?”
“Yes, meh.”
“I didn’t realize that was an adjective,” he said, smirking at her again.
“Well, now you know,” Lizzie said, grinning and prodding his leg with her foot.
He chuckled. “Pray, tell me, what does ‘meh’ mean?”
“It means I was stuck with my boring ex for an hour before I got the relief of being called into the police station,” she said, biting into her sandwich. He shook his head and smiled at her. They ate the rest of lunch in a comfortable silence, occasionally catching each other’s eye and sharing small smiles.
She had never noticed before how many little touches she shared with Mr. Gold while she was working. She almost thought that he was going out of his way to brush against her arm and she started noticing the random little things he would do to make her laugh that he never did in front of anyone else, like balancing a spoon on his nose. That had reduced her into a fit of giggles that had him walking away with a smug smile on his face.
When she came into work a few weeks later and found Mr. Gold looking at her nervously. He gestured for her to follow him into the backroom, where he wordlessly handed her a book.
Lizzie looked up at him curiously and he nodded towards the book, prompting her to look at it and gasp as she looked at the beautiful, leather-bound copy of Pride and Prejudice.
“Is this…” she trailed off, staring up at him.
“First edition,” he said, not meeting her eyes.
She stroked the spine. “You could have book dealers from all over the country fighting over this,” she whispered.
“Oh, it’s not for sale,” he said and smiled sheepishly when she stared at him. “I know you love that book, so I thought, if you want it…”
“You’re going to give it to me?” Lizzie whispered.
“If you’ll have it.”
She stared at him staring at his shoes, jaw hanging open, and stepped forward to wrap her arms around him. “Thank you,” she murmured into his jacket collar as his arms came around her.
“No matter,” he said, stiff and awkward.
She pulled away to look at his face and frowned. “You always say that, but these things you keep doing for me do matter. Why don’t you see that?”
“A few nice things for one person doesn’t make up for the wrongs I’ve done, sweetheart,” he said, staring at a spot above her head but keeping his arms around her.
“You haven’t wronged me.”
“That you know of,” he whispered, looking into her eyes. He tried to smile at her but grimaced instead.
She shook her head and leaned forward until she could feel his breath on her face. “I don’t think you would hurt me.”
He stared at her in surprise and whispered “Never,” before leaning forward to kiss her.
---
Lizzie was the happiest she could remember being in a relationship. She had Mr. Gold’s full attention on her, and while most people tried to avoid his notice, she reveled in it. They kept their relationship hidden, each nervous about the town’s reaction for different reasons, but that just made their stolen kisses in the backroom all the more special. When he smiled at her, his whole face lit up with a happiness she had never seen there before and never would have expected, but it was there every time she walked into the room. She felt like there was a sign on her that declared the relationship to the entire town but no one else seemed to notice it, which relieved her, even if it gave Ruby an excuse to nag her about another blind date.
“Why don’t you want to date Gregory? He’s so cute,” Ruby whined to her one evening at the diner.
“Yeah, and that’s all he is,” Lizzie said, rolling her eyes at her friend. “Are you going to bring me my burger?”
Ruby stuck her tongue out at her and walked into the kitchen. Lizzie sighed with relief and heard a chuckle behind her. She turned to look and saw Mayor Mills smiling at her. “Your friend giving you grief?”
“You have no idea,” Lizzie muttered, eyeing the mayor warily.
“Why won’t you let her set you up?” she said, frowning like she cared.
“I’m not interested.”
“Ah,” Regina’s eyes sparked knowingly. “There’s someone else.”
Lizzie choked on her iced tea and looked at Regina. “Of course there isn’t. I just like being single right now.”
“Oh, please,” Regina said, rolling her eyes. “No one likes being single. You can save that independent woman speech for someone else.”
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy,” Lizzie said, raising her eyebrows. She almost felt guilty about lying, but she had been happy being single before, so she shoved the guilt away. “I would appreciate it if you would leave my business to me, Mayor Mills, and that includes my father.”
Regina’s eyes narrowed dangerously and she leaned forward to whisper in Lizzie’s ear. “Just be careful about who you associate with, Miss French. It can make or break you in this town.” Standing up, she glowered at Lizzie. “Good day, my dear.”
Lizzie watched her leave as Ruby slid a plate on the counter in front of her. “What did you say to her?” Ruby said, watching her leave.
“To not meddle with my life,” Lizzie said, turning back to her friend and fixing her with a glare. “Which I could tell you as well.” Ruby winked as she walked away to take Dr. Hopper’s order and Lizzie rolled her eyes at her.
When she got home that night, her father was watching a football game and grunted in hello to her. “Hey, Liz, wait,” he called out as she began to climb the stairs, tearing his eyes away from the TV. “Gregory came by the shop today. He wants you to call him.”
Lizzie snorted. “Unlikely.”
Moe laughed. “Yeah, I know. But, sweetie, don’t you think you should date somebody?”
“You too?” she groaned, walking over to him and collapsing on the couch next to him. “First Ruby, then the mayor, and now you. Is it against the law for me to be single?”
“No,” he said. “But I don’t think you’re single.”
“What?” she said, frowning at him as he smirked.
“You’ve always been terrible at hiding things from me.”
“I’m not dating anyone.”
“Liar,” he said, laughing again. “C’mon, Liz, I’m your dad. Tell me.”
“You wouldn’t like it,” she muttered.
“I doubt it’s that bad,” he said, prodding her with his elbow. “It’s not like you’re seeing Gold.” When she looked away from him, he froze. “Elizabeth Isabelle… You’re not seeing Mr. Gold, are you?”
She looked up at him, grimacing. “Maybe.” He opened his mouth and she clapped her hand over it. “Just listen, okay?” He narrowed his eyes but nodded. “He’s different with me. Kinder and happier and I can tell he really does like me, Dad. I know it’s weird and I hardly believe it myself, but please trust me.”
“Lizzie, he’s your boss.”
“I wasn’t aware of that,” she said drily and he glared at her.
“I’m not joking around.”
“Neither am I,” she said, glaring back at him.
He sighed and shook his head, knowing he couldn’t change her mind. “Just be careful, okay? He’s dangerous and I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”
“He won’t hurt me,” she said, smiling.
“Mm,” Moe grunted, shaking his head again before looking at the TV. “Now scram. I’m going to try to watch the game to avoid thinking about you and Gold.”
Lizzie laughed and kissed his cheek before running up the stairs.
As the weeks passed, winter began to give way to spring and Lizzie began spring cleaning at the shop. Mr. Gold was amused at her goal to get every part of the shop spotless and laughed at her one day when she came into the backroom with dust all over her hair.
“Come here,” he said, pulling her down onto the leather couch next to him. “How did you manage this?” He began batting at her hair, trying to get the worst out.
“I was cleaning that armoire.”
“So you stuck your whole head in there?” He laughed when she bit her lip guiltily and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “You are ridiculous.”
“I prefer determined.”
“How about stubborn?” She pouted and gave him a look that she clearly meant to be threatening but only made him laugh. “Well, you are.”
She glared at him again and he couldn’t help leaning in to kiss her. She responded enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him. He tangled a hand in her dust-coated hair as she smiled against his lips. After far too short a time, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers and sighed. “Belle.”
Lizzie jerked away and stared at him. He looked at her, confused, but horror crossed his face as he realized his mistake. “Who the hell is Belle?” she hissed.
He looked conflicted and grimaced. “Someone I used to know.”
“Just someone you used to know?” she said, glaring daggers at him.
“No,” he said miserably, looking down at his hands. “I used to… Well, I was in love with her.”
Lizzie stared at him and shook her head. “The teacup belonged to her.” It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. “What happened to her?”
“I was told she died.”
Lizzie’s lip curled up and her eyes narrowed. “Do I remind you of her?”
He chuckled darkly. “More than you could possibly know.” As soon as the words were out, he looked like he would give anything to take them back, but the damage was done. Lizzie stood up and stepped away from him.
“So you hire a shop girl who looks like your lost love and then decide to date her? What, was I supposed to be another chance with Belle?”
“No, sweetheart, it’s not like that,” he said desperately, standing as well and looking at her with bright eyes.
“Then explain what it is like,” she said.
He shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered, voice cracking.
She nodded, stepping back towards the side door. “Right. I’m just going to be going.”
She turned and pulled open the door as he stopped towards her. “Lizzie, please.”
“No,” she said, turning to look at him. “I’m not going to be your replacement, Mr. Gold. We clearly weren’t meant to be like you and Belle.”
She ignored him calling out her name and walked home, head held high. Moe looked up from his flower arrangement in surprise when she walked into the shop. “Hey, Liz—what’s wrong?”
She stared at him and shook her head. “Daddy,” she choked out before she started crying and stumbled blindly towards him.
“Lizzie, baby, what happened?” he said, hugging her. “Did Gold hurt you? What did he do?” She just shook her head and let him guide her to the door, which he locked, and then into to backroom where he put on the electric kettle. Sitting down next to her at the table, he grasped her hands. “Lizzie, tell me what happened.”
She shook her head and buried her face in her arms on the table. “He only liked me because I reminded him of some dead woman he used to love,” she whispered as Moe stroked her hair.
“Oh, baby,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “How did you find out?”
“He called me ‘Belle’ after I kissed him.”
His arm tightened around her shoulder. “I’ll kill him.” Lizzie didn’t say anything and just let him threaten Gold as he made her tea and she sat crying, trying to ignore her heart shattering in her chest.
The next day, Lizzie rolled out of bed and dressed carelessly, throwing on the first things she could find. She went downstairs and took a sip of Moe’s coffee as he watched her over the top of his newspaper.
“You’re not going back to work for him, are you?”
“I’ll be back later,” she said, turning to walk out the door.
“Lizzie—”
“Dad, please, let me handle this,” she said, leaning her head against the door. “I need to handle this.”
She heard his chair screech against the kitchen tiles and the clink of his mug as he set it in the sink. “Be careful.”
“I’ll see you later.” She slipped out and walked down the familiar path to the pawnshop without paying attention. She was sure some people had to jump out of her way, but she didn’t care. She didn’t look up until she opened the door to the shop and walked in, watching Mr. Gold turn to face her. His eyes widened when he saw her standing there and he looked like he hadn’t slept at all.
“Lizzie, I—”
“I only came by to let you know that I’m quitting,” Lizzie said, cutting him off.
“Of course,” he said, masking the crushed expression that flitted across his face. “I’ll have your last check brought over to you. And, Lizzie,” he waited until she looked up at him again, “if you need a reference, I’d be more than happy. It’s the least I could do.” She stared at him and he shifted uncomfortably, fingers tightening on his cane. “I am truly sorry.”
She nodded and turned to leave. “Goodbye, Mr. Gold,” she said over her shoulder, pulling open the door.
“Goodbye, Miss French,” he whispered just before the door slammed shut behind her.
Lizzie sighed, running a hand through her hair, and walked home. Moe was relieved to see her and even more relieved to hear that she quit.
A few days later, Lizzie was working in the shop with her father when Mr. Gold walked in, looking at her hesitantly. She turned on her heel and walked into the back of the shop, leaving her father to deal with him.
“Are you here about the rent, Mr. Gold?” he asked.
“Can I speak with Lizzie?” Mr. Gold said.
“I’m afraid she’s busy.” Lizzie sighed in relief from the backroom as she heard her father step in front of the door.
“Please, I just want to talk with her.”
“All due respect, Mr. Gold, but my daughter has already cried over you too much. So go ahead and raise the rent if you like, but you’re not going near her,” Moe said fiercely.
Mr. Gold sighed. “I understand.” Lizzie heard the tapping of his cane and the door opening. “Oh, Mr. French? I won’t be raising your rent. Good day.” The door closed behind him and Moe came into the backroom.
“Are you alright, Liz?” he said, drawing her into a hug.
“I’m fine,” she murmured. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Just doing my job,” he said, kissing the top of her head.
After that, Mr. Gold’s henchman Dove started coming by to collect the rent rather than Mr. Gold himself, something Lizzie was glad for.
Rumors started circulating about why Lizzie had quit the shop until the town seemed to agree that Mr. Gold had come onto her. She didn’t correct anyone but Ruby and Emma, but she didn’t tell either one the truth, and she could tell her father enjoyed the rumors that painted Mr. Gold as a cradle robbing predator, even if he didn’t encourage them. She only fed the rumors when she began crossing the street rather than walking past him
But life went on, and Lizzie nursed her broken heart. She often wondered what Belle had been like to clearly have such a hold on Mr. Gold’s heart, and Belle was on her mind one morning as she sat in the diner, playing absentmindedly with her pancakes when Ruby leaned over to her. “Did you hear about Henry?”
“Did Regina board up his room?” Lizzie said, frowning into the syrup.
“No, he’s in the hospital,” Ruby said. “He just collapsed. Apparently Emma thinks he was poisoned.”
“Oh, no,” Lizzie said. “Is he going to be okay?”
“He hasn’t woken up,” Ruby said, shaking her head. “It’s so sad.”
They both stared at each in silence before Ruby had to go fill up more coffee mugs and Lizzie left to go help her father at Game of Thorns.
Lizzie was working on a flower arrangement later that day while Moe was counting the money in the cash register when a sudden breeze hit her.
With that breeze came memories. Memories of another life, of the Enchanted Forest and the Ogre War and the queen keeping her in a dungeon and Rumplestiltskin. A choked sob came out of her throat when she remembered Rumplestiltskin.
“Belle?”
Lizzie—no, not Lizzie, her name was Belle—turned and stared at her father, who was staring at her in equal shock. “Papa?”
He ran towards her and scooped her up in a hug, crying. “Belle, I’m so sorry, I never should have let that monster take you away. I am so sorry.”
“Rumplestiltskin!” Belle exclaimed, pulling away from the hug and turning to run out the door. “I need to find him!” She pulled open the door and froze, watching a great purple cloud billow through Storybrooke.
“Belle—what the hell is that?” Maurice whispered behind her, grasping her arm.
“Magic,” she said and closed her eyes as it hit her. As soon as it cleared, she turned back to her father. “I know you don’t understand, but please let me go to him.”
He laughed. “Why in the world would I do that? He took you away from me in our world and broke your heart in this one.”
“Think about how he broke my heart, Papa,” she said, grabbing onto the hand that was holding her arm. “He called me the name of the woman he loves.”
His grip loosened as realization crossed his face. “He called you Belle.” She nodded and he shook his head. “You love him.”
“I’ll explain everything when I get back, but I need to find him.” He nodded and let go of her arm, eyes wide. “Thank you,” she said and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Papa.”
She didn’t hear if he responded because she was running down the path she knew so well—no, Lizzie knew so well, not her—she could walk with her eyes closed. She ran past others who were running to their loved ones and Ruby hugging Snow White. She wondered who Ruby was back home, but the thought was driven out of mind when she saw the pawnshop. Skidding to a stop, she reached out to wrench the door open, but it didn’t budge.
That was when she noticed the “closed” sign on the door and she groaned, leaning against the doorframe, resigning herself to waiting.
She stood there for a long time, looking into town where she was sure celebrations were being had, although she couldn’t see anything from the shop.
“Miss French.” Belle turned to look the other way, towards the forest, and saw Mr. Gold—no, not Mr. Gold, never Mr. Gold, Rumplestiltskin—staring at her. “Can I help you?”
She stared at him, looking at the human face she had once gotten a glimpse of, and laughed. “You know, I cried myself to sleep for a week over you.” Pain flashed across his face and she held back the tears that threatened to fall. “It was so painful knowing that you only wanted me because I reminded you of someone else.”
“Lizzie, it’s not like that—” he started, but she cut him off.
“I know.”
He blinked. “You know?”
She laughed again and the tears did begin to fall. “I can’t believe I had a broken heart because I reminded you of me.”
He stared at her, his face a mix of surprise, hope, and fear. “Belle?” he whispered, taking a step towards her.
She nodded, crying in earnest. “Rumplestiltskin.” He was crying too as he took another step towards her and she held out her arms. “I love you.”
He reached her and hugged her so tight she could hardly breath. “And I love you.”
Belle smiled and pulled back, looking up into his once-reptilian eyes. “It’s good you actually believe me now.”
“I’ll never doubt you again,” Rumplestilstkin whispered, stroking her hair, and she kissed him.
This time, when he pulled away and sighed “Belle,” she kissed him again.