Summary: Rumplestiltskin wants to be enough. My take on how the sleeping curse conversation could have gone. Set during 5x18.
Rating: M (for smut and cursing) Word Count: 2,647 A/N:
Companion piece to 5x17 fix-it, To Love You More. Rumple’s POV. Angst and smut. Comments welcome…a little nervous about this one.
Just to wake you up. Just to wake you up. Darkness, the age-old companion, hissed in his ear. Shut up! Today
he stomped the wretched whispers down, locking them away with ease. No
longer the raging, consuming inferno that it had once been, the darkness
was his to command. Rumplestiltskin was stronger now—braver—Belle and
their baby needed him.
She hadn’t meant those cruel words, and he hadn’t meant his.
Exhausted after an endless day of pursuing dead ends, they huddled in
the rocking chair in their doppelgänger bedroom. This queer copy of
their stately Victorian house was more gray than pink, sagging and
covered with thick, twisted brambles. But they had found it, and it was a
welcome relief from the Underworld shop where he’d toiled for countless
hours since coming to Hades’ hellhole of despair.
Rumple cradled Belle in his embrace, rubbing soothing circles over
her gooseflesh-covered arms. Shivering, she clung to him, fingers
worrying the hair at his nape. The runners on the chair whined as they
chafed against the bloated floorboards, further splintering the decaying