#joylee56

"Can’t it wait till later?" she pled blinking, as she lay curled up on her favorite reading chaise with a book in hand.

The side of his mouth twitched, and she was unsure if it was out of amusement or annoyance.

"I'm sure the handsome young hero in your book can wait, because I cannot.  Now put it down. I need you to write down the instructions for this spell exactly how I tell you."

Throwing her head back she groaned at the inane task.  "Can't you write it yourself?"

Rumpelstiltskin pursed his lips as his eyes narrowed at her. "And what have another blunder like the one with that simpleton farmer? I still have nightmares about that delivery!'

It had been quite the mishap for poor old Mr. McGill, an aging farmer who had desperately wanted his wife to have a child, after years of trying. Rumpelstiltskin had guaranteed him a baby, for a price of course.  Eager to finally have an heir, the farmer readily agreed and was given the fertility potion along with hand written instructions on how to use it.

 Unfortunately for Mr. McGill, the Dark One’s penmanship was atrocious, and he mistakenly took the vial meant for his wife.  Nine months later, with a little help from a very traumatized Dark One, Mr. McGill had safely delivered a pair of healthy young girls.

"Good point," Belle nodded, letting out a sigh as she closed the book. "I guess I have to wait till tomorrow to see what happens to Baelfire."

The sound of shattering glass startled her, as she looked over to see the broken beaker sprawled across the floor where Rumple stood. She opened her mouth to tease that she was not the only klutz in the castle, but his look of complete bewilderment silenced her words.

"Wh-what did you say?"

Uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach. “I…” her brows furrowed in a confused worry as she stumbled to speak. Something was wrong. In all the months she lived there, he had never looked that way before.

"I…I was talking about a story," she held up the small leather bound book she had just been reading, as his eyes zeroed in on it.  Her nerves grew the longer he silently stared, so she started rambling to fill the awkward silence.

"Well it’s not so much a story really, but a journal. I mean it jumps around, with no real rhyme or reason, but what I can gather it’s about a poor man who needs to find the Duke's magical dagger to save his son Baelfire."

Slowly, calculatingly, he moved his menacing stare up from the book, and into her eyes. For the first time in her life she felt true fear in the presence of the Dark One.

"Where did you get that?" he snarled his voice inflamed with a sinister tone.

"I...I found it when I was dusting." She glanced down at the journal in her trembling hands with confusion.  How could such an unassuming book draw such a powerful reaction from the Dark One?   "You...you said I could read any book in the castle as long as it wasn't in your laboratory," she spoke defensively feeling the urge to justify whatever wrong she had clearly inflicted upon him.

Taking a deep breath, she braced for his harshness, but cold silence was all she heard.  Although his eyes still bore into hers, it was as if he was looking right through her, lost in his own world. A gnawing guilt crept into her heart at seeing him so distraught.

Timidly she bit her lip. "I'm sorry Rumpelstiltskin. I will return the book to where I found it at once."

Hastily she moved around the large table, keeping her eyes down cast as she moved towards the door where he stood. She intended to pass without a word, but as she neared him, she noticed his entire body was shaking.

Was he ill? The fear for her own safety dissipated as she worried now for his.  She couldn’t just leave him like this, especially surrounded by broken glass.  Quickly she dropped to her knees before him, placing the journal on the floor next to her.  She hadn’t thought this through thoroughly as she had nothing but her hands to pick up the jagged shards of glass.

Carefully she reached for the largest piece, when her hand slipped against the floor, barreling her palm right across the jagged edge of glass.  When she looked down at her bleeding hand, she noticed the journal out of the corner of her eye, now lying in a shifted pool of whatever was in the beaker.  She reached for it, crying out when the wetly coated book made contact with her cut hand.

Her sharp cry broke Rumple from his frozen stupor. He looked down, his brows furrowing in concern as he whimpered, “You’re hurt.”

She felt his arms wrap around her, before everything went black.

X

"Mama."

A tiny voice soon followed by a gentle shake of her shoulder rustled Belle from sleep. She felt the unmistakable poking of straw clipping at her face and hair. If she was sleeping on a pile of straw, there could only be one explanation. Sighing, she opened her eyes.

"Did you really put me back in the dungeon, Rumpelstiltskin," she called out, knowing full well he could hear her from any part in the castle. “I told you I was sorry.”

"Mama?"

Startled by the voice, Belle sat up, to see a young floofy haired boy, looking straight at her. Her jaw dropped at the sight of him. His clothing was worn and tattered. How long had he been down here?

"Are you okay Mama?"

Befuddled Belle looked around searching for whomever the young boy was talking to. She didn’t see anyone else, but even more confounding were her surroundings.  She wasn’t in one of the dungeons at the Dark Castle. It appeared to be more of a shack, a hovel of sort.

"Mama?"

She could hear the growing concern in the young boy’s voice, and turned her attention back towards him. Wanting to comfort the confused lost child, she went to stand, crying out when a rush of searing hot pain shot through her right leg.

"I'll get your staff, Mama." the young boy called out, reaching for a wooden stick against the far side of the wall. He silently placed it in her hand as she slowly stood. How had she hurt her leg?

So many questions raced through her mind, but she needed to deal with the most pressing matter at hand.

"Where is your mama, sweetheart?" she asked the young lad.

"I don't understand, Mama.” he shook his head. “Is this some sort of game?”

“You tell me,” she countered still thoroughly confused as to whom this boy was, and why he kept calling her his mother.

“Are you feeling okay Mama?

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to stop calling her that, but as she saw the genuine look of concern in his big brown eyes, she thought better of it. If she had to guess he was probably around 11 or 12 years of age. He was a handsome young lad, and even though she had never laid eyes upon him before, there was something familiar in his manner, that she couldn’t quite place.

“I’m fine sweetheart,” she forced a smile playing along. “I’m just feeling a little out of sort today.”

“Are you having second thoughts about tonight, Mama?” he inquired. “Are we still running away?”

Her eyes widened in surprise at the odd revelation. Running away? Why would they be running away and more importantly from whom?  

“Well…” she hesitated a moment, trying to figure out the best way to get the answers she so desperately needed without seeming like a complete lunatic to the young child. “Why do you think I want us to run away?”

He hung his head, kicking at the dirt floor.

“Because the Duke has lowered the age to fight again, and they are going to take me away, like they did Morraine.”

Wait, she knew that story.  

“And I know you want to keep me safe Mama, but it just doesn’t feel right to flee.”

An impossible reality dawned upon her, as she looked incredulously at the young boy.

“Baelfire?”

“I don’t want them to look at me like a coward Mama, and…”

His voice drowned into the background, as her head swarmed in a dizzied disbelief. She felt disoriented and stumbled to an old wooden chair nearby. Baelfire was at her side in an instant. She didn’t want to frighten him, but she needed time to herself to process everything.  

Tempering her panic for a brief moment, she mustered all of her strength, kindly asking Baelfire to fetch some water from the creek.  He was hesitant to leave her at first, but she assured him with a false sense of calm that she had merely become overheated, and needed a cool fresh cup of water.  

The moment he left, her refrained composure crumpled as she rocked back and forth in the chair. How did this happen? Why was she here? Closing her eyes, she searched her memory, trying to find any possible explanation for this. The last thing she remembered she had cut herself and ... her eyes opened with a sudden epiphany.

 Her hand had been covered in a mixture of blood and magic when she reached for the journal.  Had she unknowingly cast herself into the book when she touched it? Rumpelstiltskin always claimed that blood magic was one of the most powerful but dangerous in all of the lands.

Taking a long deep breath, she tried to recall every detail she read in the journal.  Based off of her conversation with Baelfire, they were already past the part of the story where Morraine had been taken away by the Duke’s men.

Her heart dropped, as she remembered what came next in the story. They couldn’t flee tonight, if they did they would surely be caught by Hordor and his men.

She would have to come up with a new plan quickly to get Baelfire out of town.

  After a few minutes, Baelfire returned with a bucket of water.  As she opened her mouth to tell him of their change of plans, she suddenly found herself transported to the cold darkened enchanted forest, as an array of soldiers and horses surrounded her.

Having lived with Rumpelstiltskin she was use to the sensation of being magically transported. In her early days at the castle, she had on quite a few occasions suddenly found herself outside the castle next to the clothesline with a basket of laundry. Although she found it annoying, she never was afraid, knowing that Rumple would never send her anywhere dangerous.

But this was not Rumple’s magic.

Her heart filled with trepidation, as the horses circled around her and Baelfire. It appeared the book had a will of its own, transporting her to the scene she had desperately wanted to avoid.  The story had already been written, and now she was forced to follow it.

Her heart pounded in her ears as Hordor spoke of treason, and ordered his men to take the boy.

“Don’t touch my son!” Belle cried out, feeling a fierce motherly protection as she moved Baelfire behind her.

Hordor’s chilling laugh filled the night air as he rode his horse next to her. “Kiss my boot.”

“What?” she asked in disbelief.

“Kiss my boot, and the boy can go home with you tonight. Or” he gave a small shrug, “you can kiss something else of mine.”  

Swallowing her pride she bent over to kiss the dastardly cretin’s muddy boot, but he moved his foot at the last minute, kicking her square in the ribs. As her bruised body started to fall towards the ground, she suddenly found herself sitting in front of a fireplace. Flustered by the abrupt change, it took her a moment to regain her bearings.

She was one again in the same hovel, but this time an old man sat across from her. Her thoughts immediately turned to Baelfire, as her eyes searched the room for him. A rush of relief filled her heart, as she spotted him sleeping on the straw cot.

He was safe…for now.

The old man cleared his throat clearly trying to regain her attention, as she drew her eyes back to him.

“As I was saying, The Duke has the Dark One in thrall. He's enslaved him with the power of a mystical dagger and on the blade is written a name – the true name of the Dark One. If you steal the dagger, then you would control the Dark One yourself. And then no one would be able to take your son away from you.”

Her heart stopped at the mention of the Dark One.  Was Rumpelstiltskin here in this story?   The journal had made no mention of the magical dagger having ties to the Dark One. It appeared that the book had decided to give her more information now, a clearer picture of the the story than what she had previously read.  

“Can you imagine,” the old man continued. “A poor lame soul with that much power. Why you could save all the children…not just your son.”

A spinning wheel, which wasn’t there before, suddenly came into her view.  It was sitting next to the pile of straw that she had previously awoken from.  Flabbergasted, her jaw hung open as she immediately recognized the object as the same one she spent many a day and night reading next to in the grand hall.  Her heart tugged forth a memory.

“Why do you spin so much?”

“It helps me to forget.”

“Forget what?”

Stupefied she pulled her gaze from the spinning wheel as another realization dawned upon her. Stumbling, she found her footing, as she hobbled towards the young sleeping boy. Her fingers brushed against the tattered shawl he had worn earlier which now doubled as his blanket.

Tears swelled in her eyes as she realized she had seen that very shawl before in a room at the Dark Castle.  She had always wondered who the small clothes had belonged to but now she knew. They belonged to his son. This was Rumpelstiltskin’s story.

Remembering she was not alone she spun on her heel, armed with a series of questions, but much to her surprise the old man was gone. Sighing at the sudden erratic changes the book bestowed she went to move the now unoccupied chair, but the scraping of the legs against the floor awoke Baelfire.

“Let me help you Mama,” he called out, but she held up her hand, silently halting him in place.

“It’s fine sweetheart,” she smiled, moving the chair to sit next to him as he laid back down. She gave a silent plea to whoever was guiding this, to allow her a little more time with him, before she was yanked away to face another part of the story.

Reaching out she tussled her fingers through his hair.

“You look so much like your father,” she marveled truly taking the time to look at him.  

“Will you tell me about him Mama?”

The hopefulness in his voice melted her heart. She recalled in the journal that they boy’s mother had left them, but instead of the truth, his father had told him she had died.   She could only assume now with the roles reversed and she here, that he believed his father to be dead.

“Well he was a very handsome man,” she smiled recalling the first time she had ever laid her eyes upon him. “He had a very hard exterior, intimidating for some, but when you got to know him, see the real person underneath it all, well…he was completely and utterly fascinating. I…” she looked down with a small blush to her cheeks. “I couldn’t get enough of being around him. He was such a mystery to be uncovered.”

Baelfire smiled wistfully. “I wish I knew him Mama. I wish he was with us now. ”

Leaning down, she kissed the top of his head. “So do I, sweetheart, so do I.”

Once Baelfire succumbed to sleep, Belle closed her eyes to pray. Although she had unexpectedly been thrusted into this situation, she was thankful for every moment she got with Baelfire. Although she wasn’t really his mother, the love she felt for him rivaled that of one.

As she continued to pray for their safety, a strong odor of smoke tickled at her nose. Concerned that an ember strayed from the fire, she opened her eyes to an inferno before her.

She wasn’t in their home though, she was now standing outside a castle as a fire blazed across its walls. Baelfire was at her side. Instinctively she wrapped her arm around his shoulder pulling him close to her. Looking down she saw a pile of soaked sheep wool, and realized that they must have started the fire with it.

“So what do we do next Mama?”

She wiped the sweat from her forehead, as the heat from the flames grew more sweltering.  Placing her hand on Baelfire’s shoulder she looked him in the eyes.

“You need to go. Whatever comes next I must do alone.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “Go home Baelfire, I will be there later tonight, I promise.”

He turned to go, stopping after a few strides. “Be safe Mama. I love you.”

Smiling she spoke freely from her heart. “I love you too son.”

As he disappeared into the night, Belle turned her focus back to the fire before her. So this was the Duke’s castle, she surmised.  Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, mustering all of her bravery. She could do this. She would do this for Baelfire.  

Opening her eyes she walked towards the blazing castle with a mother’s determination burning in her heart.   Although she was unfamiliar with the layout of the castle, an unknown force guided her effortlessly through every passageway.

She soon found herself in a long hallway with multiple banners hanging from the wall.  She felt an uncontrollable pull to the green one. Lifting the banner back, she gasped as a long jagged dagger, with the name Zoso engraved upon it, sat on display. There was a heavy darkness in the air surrounding it, an electricity of sort that she had felt once before as she passed by a locked room in the Dark Castle.

As her fingers grasped around the handle, she abruptly found herself transported to a clearing outside the burning castle.

As she stood alone in the night holding the dagger, she felt utterly lost.

“I never got this far in the story…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” she called out, hoping the book would take pity on her.

She waited for something, anything to happen, but a still cold silence surrounded her. Letting out a sigh, she looked down at the dagger in her hand. Did this really control the Dark One?  It seemed impossible.  If Belle was certain of one thing it was that Rumpelstiltskin was nobody’s puppet. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. Every deal he struck was of his own free will. He didn’t just come to every soul that called upon him.

It suddenly dawned on her. She had called upon a Dark One once before, and made a deal that changed her life, and now it appeared it was time to do it again. Holding the dagger up she spoke.  

“Zoso, Zoso, I summon thee.”

The hairs on the back of her neck rose alerting her to his presence.

“You were asking for me?”

Do the brave thing, she thought and bravery will follow. Turning on her heel she saw a dark hooded figure before her. He took a step towards her, his face still shrouded.

She could tell quickly that this Dark One was very different than Rumpelstiltskin.  Rumple was known for his showmanship, openly strutting around, wanting every living creature near and far to see and know exactly who he was. This Dark One preferred to stay in the shadows, to impose a mysterious fear in the hearts of those who dared to call upon him.

“Wield the power of the dagger wisely. You can wield it anytime now. It's almost dawn. That means it's your son's birthday. I bet Hordor and his men are already on their way to your house. Unlike you he’s not a coward and yearns to fight and die in a battle of glory.”

Stunned speechless by his apparent knowledge of the situation, Belle stood silently looking at him. After a moment, the Dark One started to speak again, as if he was an actor reading from a script, and she had missed her cue.

“What a poor bargain that would be to lay down your soul down to have your bastard son safe. So, I ask you, what would you have me to do?”

Taken aback by his insinuations, Belle could see how a person could become flustered and act purely on emotion to counter this Dark One’s aggressive tactics.  Although she held the dagger, it appeared that Zoso was the one still in control.

“Show me your face,” she commanded.

Tilting his head in confusion, he pushed back the hood to reveal the familiar face of the old man who was in her home. Her jaw dropped at the sight of him.

“It’s you,” her body shook with rage.

“You wanted this. You manipulated him. You took advantage of a father’s love and his desperation. Rumpelstiltskin only became the Dark One to save his son! ” she screamed, as the as the dark one took two swift strides at her, wrapping his hand tightly around her neck.

“Who are you?” he hissed.

“Someone who loves them.”

The Dark One’s grip tightened around her neck, as he lifted her dangling body inches from the ground. “This isn’t your story, girl.”

She struggled to breathe as his grip tightened. As the world around her darkened, her final thoughts turned to Baelfire, and what grisly fate would await him if she died now. She had to protect him. For Rumpelstiltskin’s son, she would do what must be done.

With her last ounce of strength, she lifted her arm, plunging the dagger down towards Zoso’s back.

Jolting upright, she frantically looked around, mentally preparing for whatever scenario was next in the book, when a familiar voice rung in the air.

“It’s okay Belle. I’m here. You’re okay, sweetheart.”

Looking towards the sound, her heart leapt with joy at the sight of Rumpelstiltskin perched at her bed side.  

“Rumple!” she cried out, lunging for him as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  She let out a sigh of contentment as his hands stroked her back.  She could have stayed in his embrace for hours, but all too soon he pushed her back away from him.  

“How do you feel, Belle? Does anything hurt?” he fretted as his tender eyes glanced over her.

“I…I don’t think so,” she replied uncertain.

Checking her right hand, she gazed astonishingly at how perfectly normal it was.  There wasn’t the slightest trace of the deep cut. She had no doubt that Rumple had healed it with his magic.  

Glancing around the familiar surroundings of her bed chamber, she knew she was safe. She was home.

“Belle….I,” her attention turned back to Rumple, who quickly stood up, ringing his hands nervously in front of him.  “My behavior…before…I…”

She cut off his apology. “It’s okay Rumple.”

“No,” he shook his head adamantly. “It was appalling. I want you to know…you are safe here Belle. I would,” his eyes watered, “I would never hurt you Belle. Never.”    

“I know, Rumple. I know.” She gave him a reassuring smile, as he stared at her in awe. Just then a log shifted in the fireplace, as the flames crackled to life.

The smell of the flames brought every memory back. The fire, the duke’s castle, Zoso.

Overwrought with concern her eyes searched the room.

“Where’s Baelfire? Is he safe?”

His brows furrowed at her for just a moment before he schooled his features.  

“There is no one here Belle. You were just dreaming.” With a flick of his wrist, the chipped teacup appeared on her night table. “Have some tea, and relax.”

“No,” she shook her head fiercely. “I was there, in the story. I…I don’t know how, but I was there in the book, Rumple. I was with him.  I was with Baelfire.” Taking a deep breath, she looked into his eyes.  “I was with your son.”

He stood stoically for a moment before his façade fell, and his shoulders slumped forward. He looked so small, defeated. Her stomach twisted in knots, but she pressed forward.

“That journal I was reading, it was yours. You stole the dagger from the Duke; you killed Zoso and became the Dark One to save your son.  

Voice quivering she asked the question she was scared to know the answer of.  “Please Rumple, I need to know, did you save Baelfire?

Moments of a heavy silence filled the room.

“Yes,” he croaked his voice small and timid. “I saved him from the ogres.”

She let out a cry of relief. “Oh thank the Gods!”

Her glee was quickly tempered as Rumple stood straight, a storm of anguish raging in his eyes.  

“Oh I wouldn’t celebrate Mistress. I saved him from one evil, only to lose him to an even greater one….myself.”

Her heart dropped. “What happened to him?”

He turned his back.

“The burden of losing him is mine alone.”

She could feel the pain in his voice, and felt an overwhelming desire to hold him.

“But it doesn’t have to be Rumpelstiltskin.”

Her bare feet touched the cold stone floor, as she slid from her bed.  She was afraid if she approached him too quickly and tried to touch him, he would flee. Slowly she moved towards him, stopping a few feet away.  She didn’t know what to say, so she let her heart do the talking.

“Although my time with him was brief, I can assure you the impact Baelfire made on my heart was everlasting. He’s an easy boy to love…and I do love him, Rumple. I love him like he is my own.  ”

Biting her lip she tried to hold back her tears. “Please…tell me what happened to him.”

With a heavy broken sigh, Rumpelstiltskin kept his back turned as he relayed the sad tale of how Baelfire went alone through the portal to a Land without magic. She stood there quietly listening, as her heart broke for Baelfire and for the shattered father standing before her.

Once finished, he turned to face her, as she let out a tiny gasp at what she saw in his hands.

“I chose this, above my son that day.”

It looked the exact same as when she held it, except it was now engraved with Rumpelstiltskin’s name.  

“When I reunite with my son in the land without magic, I will right this wrong, and be rid of this dastardly thing once and for all.”

“Reunite? He’s…he’s alive?” she asked with a spark of hope in her voice.

“Oh, yes.”

Astonished, she held up her hands. “What are we waiting for Rumple? We should leave at once.” She looked towards the wardrobe wondering what to pack, as Rumple spoke.

“Belle,” his solemn voice cooled her excitement. “We can’t go…at least not yet.”

She looked at him quizzically.

“There is another story you need to hear.”

After handing her the cup of tea, Belle sat back on the bed quietly listening, as Rumpelstiltskin delved into all the failed attempts he made to reach the Land without Magic.

“I will start researching tomorrow Rumple. There has to be something you’ve missed, a magic bean…a portal somewhere. I’ll help you find it, I swear I won’t rest until I find a way.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Looking down, his hand hovered over her empty teacup, as it magically refilled.  

After taking a few sips, she noticed his face grew more serious.  

“I have found a possible way to the land without magic.”

Her eyes lit up, but he held his hand to temper her excitement.  “But it is a dark path, Belle. A curse. One that would affect many for a very long time.  I have painstakingly been putting the pieces in the place for years. It won’t happen now, but the time is coming soon when the curse will be cast.”

The thought of a curse terrified her, but what shook her even more was her inability to admonish him for it. What wouldn’t a parent do for their child? She herself had plunged the dagger into Zoso’s back to protect Baelfire. A parent’s love was the most beautiful but dangerous thing in the entire world.  

“Do what you must to find him.”

Tears swelled in his astonished eyes. She knew he wasn’t expecting her acceptance, which only made her want to give it to him all the more.

“Although I won’t stand in your way, I still want to try and find another way to the land without magic,” she clarified.  

“I know you do,” he gave her a mournful smile, as his eyes landed on the half drunken teacup in her hand.  “But sadly you won’t remember any of this.”

Her stomach dropped.

“You put something in the tea?” she asked in dismay.

He stood quickly, grasping the bedpost at the foot of her bed.

“You know too much, Belle. You know about the dagger, about Baelfire. The curse.”

A mixture of rage and hurt coiled in her stomach. “You don’t trust me?”

 “It’s now that Belle.” He let go of the bedpost. “I trust you more than anyone else in this world.”

“Then why?” she cried out.

 “There are a multitude of moving pieces that have to fall just right to reunite with my son, and you,” he placed his hands on his heart. “You. Sweet…beautiful Belle can be used as a pawn against me.”

His words did little to placate the betrayal she felt in her heart.

“I would never tell anyone, you know that Rumple. I would never betray you.”

He looked pained, as he dejectedly sat down on the edge of her mattress.

“I know that. Truly I know that Belle. But I have enemies that would use any means necessary to get whatever information they could to destroy me. You can’t know any of the things you do, for my safety…and more importantly for your own.”

Her wet tears fell heavy and hard against her cheeks.

“But I don’t want to forget him. I don’t want to forget about Baelfire.”

Her confession drew him to her in an instant. His warm hands cupped her cheeks, and although she was still angry with him, she did not pull away as his own sorrowful eyes looked upon her.

“We will see him again Belle. I swear it.”

As his fingers wiped the tears from her eyes, she felt a sudden wave of drowsiness.  

“It’s okay sweetheart, it’s just the magic taking effect.

His hands moved from her face, as she felt his arms wrap around her.

“That’s it Belle,” she heard his voice coo as he moved her up toward the pillows. “Sleep sweet Bell, and when you awake everything will be as before.”

As her head hit the pillow, she used what little strength she had left to confess.

“I wish I really could be his mother,” she mumbled.

 The last thing she heard as sleep overtook was Rumple’s faint response.

“So do I.”

I couldn’t just leave it there….I’m a sucker for happy endings!

“I’m back Mama,” four year Gideon called out, as the front door slammed close. She was still struggling to get off the couch, when Gideon excitedly ran over to her.

“Did you and your brother have fun at the zoo today sweetheart?”

Gideon nodded . “Neal and I saw the tigers and they were so cool.” He placed his small hands on her pregnant belly. “Can we take little sister to see them when she comes?”

“Of course,” Belle responded looking up as Neal walked into the living room. Plopping down on the other end of the couch, he rubbed his bone tired eyes.

“I don’t know how you guys do this day in and day out. I swear this kid gets more energy throughout the day.” Neal yawned.  “Does he come with an off switch?”

Laughing, Belle lifted her son’s arms, pretending to search. “Let me see, do you come with an off switch, Gideon?”

Howling with laughter, Gideon shook his head. “Nope,” as he wiggled off of his mother’s lap, barreling straight for his older brother, who caught him with a resounding, “umph.”

It warmed Belle’s heart to see the bond between the two brothers despite their staggering age difference. With Henry now 16 and living primary with his mother Emma, Neal was able to give much of his time to his younger brother, who thought the world of him.

“Where’s pops?” Neal asked as Gideon settled into his arms.

“He went to pick up dinner, chinese alright with you?”

“It could never be wrong,” Neal said with a smirk.

The reconciliation between Neal and Rumplestiltskin had been a long fought journey, but in the end the bond between father and son was stronger than ever.

“So how did everything go today?”

Resting her hands on her belly she smiled. “Good. The doctor says everything looks great, and she’s developing right on schedule.”

“That’s great, Belle.” Neal stated as Gideon crawled up to wrap his small arms around his neck.

“Why do you call her that?” Gideon asked as Neal looked at him puzzled.

“Cause that’s her name, silly!”

“No,” Gideon countered. “Why don’t you call mom, mom?”

“Gideon, honey,” Belle started to speak, when Neal cut her off.

“No, no it’s okay Belle, it’s a valid question.” Turning his attention back to Gideon, Neal explained that he lost his mother when he was younger. Upon hearing the news Gideon eagerly volunteered to help him find her.

“I’m really good and hide and seek. I bet I can find her.” Gideon crowed.

Biting her lip, Belle gently explained that Neal’s mother was not lost.

“Do you remember what happened with your pet hamster, Gideon?”

Bowing his head in sadness, Gideon spoke. “He went to heaven.”

“Well that is where Neal’s mother went,” Belle explained.

Belle watched as Gideon turned his attention back on his older brother, before giving him a hug. After a moment Gideon looked up at Neal with bright eyes.

“I know…my mom can be your mom too.”

“Gideon,” Belle chided, but he continued.

“We have the same Dad, and I’m sure Mom will be happy to be your Mom too, wouldn’t you Mom?” Gideon asked looking over at her.

Caught off guard Belle found herself speechless. It was true that she was Neal’s stepmother, but the fact that he was actually four years older than her, made for an awkward situation at first. But as time passed they fell into a caring friendship, and truth be told, she took on a motherly role often consoling and counseling him through obstacles he faced in his life.

“Of course I would Gideon but…” she didn’t quite know what to say, when Neal chimed in.

“I’m game if you are?” Neal asked smiling.

Belle’s heart fluttered at the idea.