Work Text:
He didn’t know why Regina was at the hospital but it was of little consequence to him. He had told her nothing would change but there was considerable difference in the air; now he thinks it was time they had another little chat.
He stood in the lobby, resting his weight on his cane as he swung his head from side to side. The hospital wasn’t exactly the easiest or smallest place to search for someone. Doubtful of how helpful the receptionist at the desk would be, he knew it was his only option other than limping the length of every floor. People had to understand the weight of the two most powerful figures in Storybrooke needing to talk.
He turned the corner, frustrated, as he still did not see her. The receptionist had been far from helpful, as he had predicted, but more than that she had seemed…frightened. He knew he was an intimidating figure but she had visibly recoiled, as if he were asking the wrong questions. Or perhaps precisely the right ones.
Just as he supposed this plan wasn’t going to work, he heard the click of a door behind him and turned instinctively. Regina stepped out and saw him almost immediately. The look on her face lasted for only a split second but he had seen it, all too clearly. It had been panic. He leapt on it.
“Ah, just who I was looking for.”
“Mr. Gold.” She replied, words tight, lips pursed. Clearly this was not a good time for her. Not that that particularly mattered to him.
He looks over her shoulder at the door. “’Exit’? And yet you’re coming back in. How…curious.”
“I…realized I forgot something. So if you’ll excuse me.” She sounded unconvincing, even to herself, he was sure.
Side-stepping her to make sure she didn’t walk past him, he made a noise of disapproval. “Ah, I believe I just said that I was looking for you which usually implies having a reason for said action. Such as a chat.”
“Now is really not a good time.”
“Yes, you did look rather…startled. Whatever is behind that door?” Now he moved around her and took several steps towards it. If Regina wanted to walk away, this would be her chance but, as he suspected, when he turned around, she was still there. If it were anyone else but him, they would not have seen the lines of worry etched into her near-perfect mask of a face.
“As mayor, there are several matters I deal with in Storybrooke. This is simply one of them.”
“I’m positive that door doesn’t lead to the Board of Directors.” His eyes narrowed just enough to let her know that he wasn’t buying this for a minute. “What’s really down there?”
“I assure you, it’s nothing you need concern yourself with.”
“You’re awfully keen on keeping this secret, aren’t you?”
“As you can very well see for yourself, Mr. Gold, the door merely says ‘exit’ and that is all it is. What business could I have behind an exit door?”
“That is precisely what I’m trying to find out. You yourself said it was one of the ‘matters’ you deal with as mayor.” He saw her pause then, knew he had backed her into a corner. Oh yes, he still very much holds the power around here.
“Did I? My mistake. You said you had something you wanted to discuss with me?”
Mr. Gold curled his lips into a smirk and began to walk away with her. The way to get her to talk was to provide her with something she wanted to talk about less. As they were leaving, however, he looked over his shoulder at the door and couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something big behind that door, something important.
It had been several days since his talk with Regina but still he could not stop thinking about that door. And he did not like not knowing things. However, he was grateful for the mystery. It gave him something to think about other than her.
He tried going back to the hospital but there was a code that was needed to get through. Not to mention the hospital staff seemed anxious whenever he approached the door or asked about it. It couldn’t simply be just an exit door.
He stopped on a corner of Storybrooke and when he looked up and saw the police station, it suddenly hit him. “Sherriff Swan,” he announced as he stepped inside the station and saw her at her desk. “I have some information that might be of interest to you.”
Skepticism crossed her features almost immediately. She hadn’t tried to hide her wariness ever since that night she arrested him. Not that he could blame her. “Finally going to make good on that favor I owe you?”
Ah, and there was the beauty of it. He knew how much she loved to play hero. “Oh, I hardly think this can be considered your favor when you’d take up the task regardless. I’m merely…giving you a little push.”
Emma’s brow creased in concentration and she sat forward in her chair. She weighed the options in her head as she studied his face before pressing her lips together a moment. “All right, I’m listening.”
Unsurprisingly, Emma was immediately interested in the door and what Regina was up to the moment Gold muttered it. He had found his in. Days passed and he found his impatience growing with each passing moment, fidgety with what could possibly be taking so long until Sherriff Swan burst into his shop, telling him it wasn’t an exit door at all.
Gold had discovered Regina’s secret. He didn’t have time for shock when he was blinded by rage, and all he could see was red. He had never experienced such hatred. He wanted to wrap his fingers around her slender neck and tighten his grip and watch her writhe until she no longer did. He wanted to see the streets of Storybrooke become rivers of her blood. He wanted to cut her open, slowly and agonizingly, and he wanted everyone to see.
But the anger faded. It faded when he saw Belle, his Belle, broken and fragile and so scared. His heart leapt into his throat and he swallowed away his fury. He must be gentle. He walked past Emma interrogating Regina (“What is going on here? There’s no record of her.”); he would deal with that later. Now, all he saw was Belle, trembling, crouched against the frame of the door to her cell, afraid to go out. Before he looked down at her, his eyes focused on where she had been kept for all these years and another swell of rage rises within him once more. A dungeon.
When he finally looked at her, he found her returning his gaze but there was no trace of recognition. His heart seized and he felt the breath run out of him but he refused to show it. He didn’t care what it took, she was alive, and he would not ruin his chance, not again.
Kneeling before her, he watched how she shrank away. Everything about her had minimized but then – then he looked into her eyes. They were just as he remembered. Blue and defiant and curious and heroic. His Belle was still in there. He seized onto that hope because it’s all he has. Raising a hand slowly, he kept himself steady, even when she flinched and he wanted to scream. He pulled her dressing gown back over her shoulder and brushed the tangled hair from her face.
She turned her face into his hand and pressed against it. She mumbled, “I know your hands.” He could feel himself matching her trembles now at the sound of her voice and he swallowed, so afraid to mess this up, to frighten her away.
“You’re okay, my love. You’ve been brave.”
“All I wanted was to be brave.”
He shut his eyes for a moment and it hit him in that moment. She’s been here, so close, all these years, and he had no idea. He will make Regina pay for this, a higher price than she’s ever paid before. When he opened his eyes again, he felt a breath of relief escape him when Belle was still there. “You were. You are.” He’s surprised at how hoarse his voice is. “Come, Belle.”
She responded to her name, her true name, and when he held his hand out, she took it without hesitation. He pulled her up and when her knees buckled beneath her, he caught her with ease and tucked his cane beneath an arm. He picked her up, his arms tucked beneath her knees and back. She felt smaller than she did the last time he held her like this. He started to walk away, struggling with his limp but completing each step, wanting to get out of here as quick as he could. He set his jaw as he walked past Regina and Belle turned into him, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. He wanted to demand what was done to her, wanted to make Regina suffer, but later. It will have to be later.
He felt her fingers tightly wrap themselves around the collar of his suit. “You used to wear leather and silk.” He felt her nose softly press into his neck, her breath hot on his skin. “And smell of straw.” She started planting small kisses along his jaw and he was sure she could feel the thundering of his heart beneath his breastbone. “My prince.” He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from telling her the truth; he is no prince.
She explored her new home with a vigorous curiosity, her feet bare and nimble, with a newfound strength in her step. She asked questions of him, asked if he’d ever send her away again. He wanted to cry in that moment but no, he told her, he had every intention of never letting her go again. It’s when she found the chipped cup that time seemed to stop and everything got quieter. He watched her, leaning on his cane, wanting to trace her every movement, afraid that in a moment she’d be taken from him again.
Instead, she came closer, cradling the cup in her hands. She stopped before him and looked up with shining eyes. He doesn’t remember who leaned forward first but when he kissed her, he put his entire being and soul into. He felt her hands, filled with a chipped cup, against his chest and he stroked her hair over and over and over again. When she slipped beneath the covers, her hands instinctively found him and she clung close. He could still feel her shaking. No, he was no prince but now, now that she was alive and in his arms, he would be anything she wanted him to be.