Italics- the Nightmare.

Calibri- Outside Nightmare.

This is my first attempt at writing outside my Anko Mitarashi zone. I'm too inspired by Rumpel X Belle to not give it a try.


Rumplestilskin, well, Mr. Gold as he is know as in Storybrook, Maine, tossed and turned in a restless slumber as images of his former life flooded into him during this vulnerable state. He saw the former Dark Master, the bloodied knife with his name engraved in the blade, his son, the people he "helped" and ruined after Balefire's disappearance, that wicked Queen Regina, and, the most vibrate of them all, the beautiful, angelic Belle.


"I'm…I'm so sorry. I chipped it."


His movements stopped momentarily as he remembered her radiant smile. How scared she must have been, and over something so simple as tea cup! He outwardly revealed his own smile.


"Well it's just a cup."


He didn't realize until later how much it really meant to him.


She was falling off the latter, and by pure instinct, he held his arms out to catch her. The sunlight now revealed from the fallen curtain blinded him for a split second before he realized that he had an extra person in his arms. He stared at those piercing blue eyes, seemingly darker from the pink blush on her cheeks.


He smiled. His arms twitched. He could still fill her warmth.


He placed her down quickly, mentally untying the knot in his stomach.

"Thank you." She said lightly, straightening her appearance.

He waved his arms in a careless matter. "No matter." He stated with his usual smile. However, as soon as his back was to her, his expression faded into a confused state.

"I'll put them back up…" she said shyly.

"Um…there's no need," he said hesitantly, "I'll get use to it."

The sun had nothing on her smile that day.


His smile remained as various other visions cleansed his dark mind, his movements stilled. He was so happy at that one moment. It didn't matter that it would all be gone when he woke up.


"Perhaps, all you want, is to find out the monster's secrets. Eh? Eh! Neeh."

She smiled at him, always taking his twisted humor in a warm light. "You're not monster."

He released her after that. He didn't want to, but he knew she wasn't a butterfly he could keep in a stone jar forever. She deserved happiness, and he had the means to give it to her.


A sob broke through his throat as he envisioned her walking out that door, basket in hand, cloak coaxing her body as she made it out into the cold fall day.

But… she came back to him.


"Why did you come back?" He asked rather desperately. She couldn't feel for her what he thought she did. She was too beautiful, too compassionate, too human.

"I wasn't going to," she admitted with her eyes cast down, "then… something changed my mind…" she looked up then, searching his face. He was scared out of his mind and all she could do was lean forward.

For some reason though, despite his eternal vow never to do this again, he leaned in as well, grazing his lips against hers in a soft caress that slowly became more meaningful. He had to pull back though when a dizzy feeling eloped him. It numbed his senses, as well as the darkness in side of him.

"What…what's happening…" he inquired groggily. From his half-lidded eyes, he could see Belle's smile grow. She grabbed his shoulders and soother his face.

"Kiss me again! It's working!"

"What? What is?"

She caressed his neck contently. "Any curse can be broken."

He stared at her, fury suddenly taking over him. He shot back, ripping her arms off of him. "Who told you that!" he demanded. "Who knows that! How did you learn that!"

She seemed shaken, but held her composure to try and give him and explanation, despite how she had none.

"I don't know…she…um…She…"

It all came together.

"She!" he spat with malice, turning to stalk to the mirror. "You evil sow!" He ripped the sheet off, only seeing his own putrid reflection. "You did this!" he shouted. "You turned her against me!" He could see Belle coming up behind him, a confused look pasted on her flawless face. "You think you can make me weak? You think you can defeat me!" He screamed so loud the mirror shook.

"Who are you talking to?"

"The Queen!" he exclaimed with a mocking flip of his arm. "Your friend the Queen!" he completely ignored the look of confusion on Belle's face and pointed an accusing finger at her, his heartless smirk frozen on his face. "How did she get to you?"

Belle shook her head. "The Queen? Who are-"

"I knew this was a trick," he hissed, "I knew you could never care for me." He slowly advanced towards her, losing his mind with each step. "Oh yeah! You're working for her? Or is this all you? Is this you being the heroine-and killing the beast?"

Belle shook her head and tried to take hold of his hands. "This will work-"

He shot away. "Shut up!"

She tried again. "This means it's true love-"

"Shut the Hell up!"

"Why can't you believe me?" she screamed with as much rage as him.

He grabbed her, shaking her with each clump of malice that left his lips. "BECAUSE NO ONE, NO ONE, CAN EVER, EVER LOVE ME!"


He gasped in his sleep at his own words.


She looked so exhausted the next time he saw her. The last time he ever saw her.

"So," she inquired nervously, "What are you going to do to me?"

He pointed to the door, unable to look at her. "Leave."


He turned his back to her. "I don't want you anymore Dearie."




He listened to the sound of her movements as she rustled to the door. They stopped, and he could see her hesitating at the door way.


"Please don't go…"


He shrugged at her words, a line on his lips speaking, "My power means to me, than you do."

The tears she was holding back made her eyes look all the more glassier. "No, no it doesn't. You just don't think I can love you."




Her lips were quivering. He could have stabbed himself for making her so upset.

"Now you've made your choice. And now you're going to regret it…forever."


He gulped, twisting around uncomfortably.


"All you'll have is an empty heart…"


"I'm sorry…"


"and a chipped cup."

His eyes slowly watcher her leave, disappear from his life forever.


"Belle…please don't go I'm…"


"…she eventually threw herself off the tower." The Queen spoke with no sense of remorse.

His heart leaped.


His heart leaped.


"She died."




"You're lying." he whisper hoarsely, yet he could find no deception in her scrunched face.

"Am I?"

It couldn't be.

His angel.

His sunshine.

She couldn't be gone.


"We're done…" he spat, the urge to crash her skull in growing each moment that sickening smile threatened his line of sight. "Get out."

It wasn't at all like his Belle's.

"Fine," she sighed, "I have other calls to make." she ran her fingers over the large magnolia table in the middle of the room. "Place's looking dusty Rumpel." she leveled her face to his. "You should find yourself a new girl." she grinned one last time, relishing the pain on his green face.




However though, she stopped and turned, looking at something in the distant.

"And what would that be?"

His watering eyes followed her to the cupboard, which was opened. His aching heart jumped when she picked up the delicate tea cup and handled it with such disregard.

"Put it down…" he whispered, holding his hand out as he took careful steps towards her. "It's…"

Regina turned to him, dissatisfaction in her eyes. "Now Rumpel, what could you possible need with this trash?"

"Put. It. Down." he hissed, rage molting with the guilt inside his hard heart.

She stared at him for a moment, a grin of realization spreading across her face. This insignificant little trinket was his weakness.

It was all he had left of his precious Belle.

And if it broke, so would he.

He didn't have a chance to stop her. Numbing images of the girl he lost were eating at his senses. He couldn't fight. He needed her but she wasn't there.

Regina dangled the cup. "Fine. I'll let it go." And she did.

"Regina no!"

The cup, as long as every ounce of Rumpelstiltskin's hope, shattered.

This means it's true love!

You're not a Monster.

No one controls my fate but me.

And now…you have nothing.



Mr. Gold shot up, panting, sweat causing his silk pajamas to stick to his back and legs. It barely too a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He was so used to it, after all.

"…Belle?" he cooed out, with just the slightest hope that she would be there.

And as always, she wasn't.

He struggled to hoist his gnarled leg over the side of the massive bed, landing wobbly on the floor before grabbing his cane. He paced around the room, fighting off the images of his beautiful Belle. So much time had passed and yet he could still remember every haunting aspect of her.

He stopped suddenly, remembering one frightening detail of his nightmare. He limped quickly to a chest at the end of the spacious bedroom, swiping the contents off of it and throwing it open. He searched past the antiques and spell books he had brought with him , the very items Moe French had tried to steal from him just three days before, now locked safe away where no one by he could get to them, to find the most important object he had ever possessed.

The chipped cup.

He sighed deeply in relief to see it was unharmed. He sank to the floor, hissing at the light sting in his leg as he positioned himself comfortable for a moment of recollection.

He admired the porcelain. Age had not stolen it's shiny details in the least. An eerie chant chorused in the back of his mind that this was Belle's cup, that her very hands had touched it long ago. She was still with him.

He swallowed a piercing lump in his throat.

He wondered, as he usually did, what became of Belle's majestic corpse. If she died there, was she buried somewhere in this very town like Regina's father Henry was? He knew it was an extreme possibility, but also knew that witch Regina may have changed the names on the headstones as another way to keep the citizens from remembering.

But if that weren't true, he'd tear apart every graveyard in the state of Maine to find her, just to say goodbye.

A tear drop had fallen on his arm. He hadn't realized he had been crying. Ever since the day she died, his eyes hadn't secreted one tear.

She was gone forever because of him, and no amount of magic could change that. She wasn't coming back, but he wished to heaven she was.

He wiped his eyes quickly and turned to put the cup away to save for another tormented night. Yet as he placed it down, he couldn't bare to close the lid, to trap his only token of her back into the dark.

Bale's death had broken him, Belle's presence had built him back up, and her death completely scorched the pieces. He had lost them both, and had no chance of getting either of them back.

He scoffed.

"All I have now is an empty heart, a chipped cup, and her memories."

He closed the case and went back to bed.


A young woman, no more than nineteen, shot up from an agonizing sleep, once filled with romance, a creature with a gentle smile, and a heartbreak most vile. She couldn't remember much about her past, but she knew the one word that filled in all the gaps, and the face it belonged to.