Fandom: Once Upon a time.

Pairing: Rumplestiltskin/Belle.

Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, they belong to their owners.

NA: I can't believe I wrote this, but it appears that my own hands were writing my crazy ideas before I could think twice about it. This idea came to my mind in comic form, one that I will probably draw when my hand gets fixed. Hope you like it, because to tell you the truth, getting into Rumple's mind is complex.

Ripped Hearts.

His body hadn't trembled this much in decades, this time, its origin lay not in the depth of his fear, but how his cursed heart had shattered. The feeling was agonizing. Hopeless. Uncontrollable.

He fisted his hand, his hard nails digging into his scaly flesh, drawing droplets of blood that dripped down his palms.

If he'd allowed her to stay, he wouldn't be trying to control his body, and his tears, as he stared at that simple, chipped cup.

Even as the queen's words resonated in his head, he couldn't believe that the cup was the last thing remaining of her. His brave Belle disappeared from his life and from this world, leaving her wise but hurtful words echoing in his mind forever.

"An empty heart and a chipped cup".

He didn't know how much time he spent staring at the cup, holding back the painful tears building in his eyes as he remembered her face, her smile and the touch of his lips against hers. It was torture and it was his fault, because he behaved like a cowardly and untrustworthy . . . beast.

He clenched his teeth to try to control his spasms. His vision blurred. This dreaded, and hated, monster was succumbing to the pain of losing her.

He shook his head in denial. He couldn't accept it.

He wouldn't.

She couldn't be dead, because no one could damage a creature full of so much good. But he did, didn't he? He lost the last remnants of humanity he possessed and tore it away with his own hands.

She had stolen his heart, but he had maimed it with his own mistrust and cowardice.

He straightened his body and opened his bloody hands as foreign tears ran down his scaly cheeks. His eyes never left the cup, and he felt an overwhelming desire to rip out his own heart so he could stop feeling the pain that this damned piece of porcelain inflicted.

But it wasn't the cup's fault. It was an inanimate object that had the ability to make him remember pain. No, something else was to blame. Or rather, someone. While he had been the reason for this tragedy, he wasn't the one to blame for her death. He wasn't able to touch her, much less let others torture her with their rotten hands.

He closed his eyes and from his throat emerged a small growl of rage. That bastard would pay for what he had done to his beloved. He'd let out the animal that was part of him. Avenge her! His blood crackled with adrenaline, and his mind screamed for him to act. At that moment, it was all he could and wanted to feel.

He remained motionless, not daring to look at the cup because he knew his spirit would break and his bloodlust would evaporate. He took a couple of steps backwards and his figure vanished, leaving behind a faint, purple smoke, that soon evaporated in the dark castle he'd once shared with her.

-/-/-

The villagers were whispering about the news of the tragedy. Suppressing his sorrow for fear of drawing attention to himself, the dreaded demon that walked among them hid his pain under an ornate hood.

How could they accept her death and what his father had done to her so . . . unquestioningly? He neared them and tried to focus on the alleged details about the fate of his beloved Belle.

"Did you hear about the daughter of Lord Maurice?" one villager said.

"No."

"They say that she was skinned alive and babbled the Dark One's name at night."

"That must be an exaggeration, but it will certainly be useful for writing a story!"

The villagers laughed. His desire to listen stopped; it was replaced by the desire to tear the skin off the wretches, to see if they too would cry out for someone they loved. He clenched his jaw and started to blame himself again. He should have accepted her; he should have explained his reasons and allowed the possibility of love from a distance. She would've understood. She would've been the only one who could have.

It was something that he understood when he forced her to leave. It was something he hadn't wanted to see because of his fury and self-loathing. What they felt was true love and she was correct in all she said.

The one who took her must suffer equal pain he had inflicted on her. It was what he deserved. A fair punishment for ending her life.

He vanished in front of the citizens, who had ignored him until he did so. Now terrified, they scattered to hide under the roofs of their houses.

He appeared in front of his target: Sir Maurice, Belle's father. The one who didn't deserve to carry that family title because of the torture he had inflicted on his daughter.

"Rumpelstistkin..." The man in the bejeweled costume typical of nobility whispered the demon's name with surprise. The latter remained silent, savouring how the bastard began to sweat from his pores thanks to the terror overcoming him. He couldn't help smiling with malicious pride when he saw how the man succumbed to his mere presence.

"W-what do you want, Dark One?" the noble asked with a tiny stutter, while the rest of the court remained silent.

"That depends on your answer," replied Rumplestiltskin with a threatening but calm voice.

"Go away please. You've already done a lot of damage to this kingdom!"

"Damage?" whispered the other cruelly. "In case you've forgotten, I protected your kingdom from the war against the trolls. I did as we agreed."

"But you corrupted her!" shouted Maurice, his shield one of self-righteous anger. "And that was not part of the deal!"

"I have not corrupted anything, sir," said Rumplestiltskin, the words issuing as a furious grunt from his throat and through his teeth. "Moreover, I think it was she who corrupted me," he whispered tenderly as a look of affection passed briefly through his eyes.

"She threw herself from a tower because of you!" accused Maurice, raising his arm and pointing at him.

"Do not blame me for your mistakes. You were her father and you rejected her. You did unforgivable things that a parent should never inflict on someone of their own blood. You forced her to kill herself!" Rumplestiltskin spat every word venomously as he approached the lord as a predator to its prey.

"W-What? I didn't force her to do anything. I don't... I just..." He tried in vain to defend himself with words as shock flooded his face.

"Shut up!" ordered Rumplestiltskin, spitting into the lord's face. "What you did is unforgivable and you're going to pay for it. You cannot turn back. You must face the consequences. Now nothing will return her to life! And nothing can return her to me!" The group of nobles and Maurice stood dumbfounded at the cries of pain the beast howled because of the loss of his daughter.

Silence filled the room, leaving the human ear to perceive the rasps that the beast exhaled as he caught his breath. But the little respite that Rumplestiltskin granted the lord of these lands was as short as a cup fell to the ground and shattered. He lunged forward, and dug his sharp claws into Maurice's neck, his entire body possessed with hate. Then the spilled the blood that he longed to see sprung forth.

Although it seemed weak, the grip was powerful enough to ensure he had the man's life in his hands. If he dug in further with his black fingernails, he would tear each vein and artery in his neck and leave him bleeding like a pig. But that man who claimed to be her father deserved to know the suffering and agony that he had inflicted to his beloved. Letting him die slowly was not enough for him.

Within a few seconds, the nobles were shocked to see that both Maurice and the Dark One had disappeared from sight. They were only able to pray that monster would have mercy.

-/-/-

The black masses that appeared from nowhere took human form, shattering the line in which the great stone tower of the castle collided with the stormy sky. Many would say it was because of the weather, but those who had met eyes with the rage the Dark One emanated knew it was because of his terrible and lethal magic. If that monster wanted to destroy them for something they didn't have control over, they would only be able to embrace their fate and pray death came quick.

Lord Maurice opened his eyes, eyes he had kept shut because of the enchantment that had wrapped around him, and was now gone from his body. He screamed with all his might, with all the strength his wheezing throat allowed. He screamed in the face of his attacker and captor, one who looked like a rabid wolf, with fierce fangs but calculating eyes that plotted to put an agonizing end to him.

Rumplestiltskin gripped Maurice's neck tighter and forced the nobleman's feet to rise from the stone of the tower. With his strength, no one could resist the demands that he imposed.

The man's feet flailed wildly, seeking support that wasn't there. He looked down and his screams became more desperate as his pleas fled his arrested vocal chords in vain.

"How does it feel to be in the same position as your daughter?" growled Rumplestiltskin as he stretched his arm to keep the noble away from the safety of the stone floor. "How does it feel to have no other choice but death? She's not here to save you again, but that, my lord, is the fate you've doomed yourself to."

"Y-you ca-can't k-kill me," gurgling Maurice, choking on his own saliva.

"Oh, no?" Rumplestiltskin said sarcastically as he tilted his head. He tightened his grip and the nobleman's face, unable to take in air, swelled with a sickly purple. "And why not?"

"T-the d-deal," he managed to stammer.

Rumplestiltskin burst out in sinister, anguished laughter. "The deal is broken because she is dead!" He shook the man violently.

"B-but sh-she…" pleaded Maurice as he tried to grab the clothed arm of the monster. " I-it w-s for-forever."

Rumplestiltskin stood still and his contorted face relaxed.

"I made the deal with her. Not with you," he tried to justify. His hand started to loosen.

"B-But a deal's a deal...and Belle! Y-you promised that her f-family would live."

"Do not try to twist my own deals, sir. It's not healthy for you right now." He stretched out his arm once more, drawing a new despairing cry from the mouth of Maurice.

"A deal's a deal! You couldn't kill me, even if she asked for it!" the lord shouted desperately, trying to reason with the creature she claimed she loved. Because ofhim, he had to hide her in a tower to suppress her growing desire to return to the monster. At the end, he had to leave her under the care of the queen to help her out of her miserable confusion. But no matter what he did, he lost her, although he knew that in reality, he had lost her when this devil in front of him took her to his castle.

The Dark Lord gritted his teeth with fury and hate for the begging, dribbling man. He knew whatshefelt, what he felt, and he was using it to diminish his desire for revenge. That damn deal he had imposed on himself kept him from killing Maurice. He could breach the agreement because she was gone, but it was for that same reason that this man would be able to live. He could not kill him for Belle because he couldn't deny her a single wish. Although his heart had been shattered with the kiss they shared, that kiss had also destroyed any chance of being together.

Pain of losing her swept over him again. The torture that tore into every part of his darkened soul, began to possess him once more. His love was a blessing when he could be with her, but a burden now that he couldn't. Being burned alive could not compare to this pain, and because of this bastard in front of him, he was suffering from something he could not mend. He couldn't go back and save her.

He growled and with a quick movement, tossed aside the nobleman, sending him crashing abruptly onto the floor so hard the man slid across the stone on his prominent belly.

"You don't deserve to be her father," murmured Rumplestiltskin, he refused to look at the mass of flesh that lay at his feet.

"She would still be alive if it wasn't for your corruption," wheezed Maurice, with an absurd, perverse kind of courage that didn't resemble Belle's in any way.

Corruption? Who had killed who? What kind of an outrage was this? Rumplestiltskin wanted to shred his body into pieces, and giving in to a fresh outburst of anger at last, he pounced and attacked the man's back, marking the skin with his claws and ripping away bloody flesh without mercy, like he did with his daughter. He gloated as he heard the cry of pain ringing against the stone floor of the tower. Maurice was lucky that Rumplestiltskin's memory of Belle restrained him.

His Belle. His sweet, brave Belle with a golden heart. One that made her give herself to, and eventually made her fall in love with, a beast.

Rumplestiltskin clenched his fists, letting the misery seep into his body. His eyes fogged and his sense of powerlessness grew until his chest couldn't contain it any longer. He stretched his arms, opening his hands up into the stormy sky. His body moved by itself and his forehead received the pattering rain that was crying with him. His lungs swelled with sorrow and they exploded in a long, deep and tortured scream. It was a growl of an animal on the verge of death and sent terror through every living thing within the vicinity.

That cry was marked in each corner of the land and in every living soul who heard it. But only one person could recognize and understand that suffering, one who shakily approached the bars of the window of the tower in which she was kept as a prisoner. She was trying not to feel the agony she shared when the yell met her ears.

Her delicate hand grabbed the metal bar clumsily, and with the little strength remaining in her, she tried to spot the man who had uttered that cry. But the sound was from far, and she couldn't stop her blue eyes from poring tears. She was trapped, caged, and her true love had swallowed the lies that she had been forced to listen to for the sake of indulging the delight of the queen.

Her heart broke, yet it was pounding with strength because maybe one day, he would find her, either in this life or in another. Until then, she knew, despite having hurt each other, that he loved her as much as she loved him.

If one thing was clear, it was that he was her true love and she could never forget him. It didn't matter if the queen tortured her or showed through her mirrors the misery surrounding Rumplestiltskin. She would remember her feelings and her purpose.

The young woman whispered his name softly and closed her eyes as she let herself fall weakly on the floor of the cold dungeon. The tears flowed down her cheeks uncontrollably, following the cry of pain still echoing through the queen's dominion.

She couldn't do anything to reassure him, to show him that she was still alive, so might just as well try to soothe his heartbreak with inaudible whispers.

End.

AN:/ The last part was a little weak. Just hope you liked it and if you have time, leave your thoughts. Till next time :)

Thanks Moon for the last fixes. I luff ya :)