Work Text:
“I-I’m tired.”
For all he hated the fairies, he could never bring himself to hate the stars in the sky. They shed light in the darkness and gave direction to the lost. They were proof of a bigger universe full of realms of everything one could imagine.
They gave hope to the dying.
“Rumple! Stay with me! Don’t you dare leave me!”
Belle’s voice rang in his ears like her namesake, or perhaps he’d been hearing it for a while. He couldn’t remember.
He was so tired.
“Breathe, damn you! Breathe!”
His ribs cracked under her hands as she pressed against his chest again and again. Her lips were soft and tasted faintly of the honey she liked in her tea as she tried to breathe life back into his lungs.
He was tired of being hated.
He was tired of always being wrong.
He was tired of the responsibility that came with magic.
He was tired of ignoring all the forbidden knowledge in his mind.
He was tired of constantly fighting off madness born of three hundred years’ worth of memories no human mind was meant to comprehend.
He was tired of his curse.
He was tired of pretending he didn’t care.
He was tired of being the villain.
He was tired of being a coward.
Rumplestiltskin was too tired to continue fighting.
He wanted to rest.
He wanted to be free.
He wanted peace.
He wanted—
Sleep.
