It's their anniversary. Well, the day they agreed would be their anniversary, the anniversary of their first real date over hamburgers at Granny's Diner. It's also one week since the day Belle agreed to move back in with him. For the past week, he's been walking around as though under a spell, and perhaps he is. Belle is in his home. His sheets smell like her. His bathroom is full of little, perfumed bottles. Every time he sees a sign of her in his house, it reminds him that this is real, that Belle has truly chosen to be with him, and an entirely different magic fills his heart.

They agreed to celebrate with a dinner at home, and Gold has been planning it all week. He knows Belle has been looking forward to it. The table is set with his finest china. He's wearing his best suit, and Belle has been hinting that she bought a new dress for the occasion.

So when she doesn't come down, he starts to worry.

After ten minutes of waiting, he goes to find her. He climbs the stairs slowly, knee aching, wondering for the millionth time if giving him an estate with so many stairs was some kind of backhanded revenge of Regina's.

The door to the master bedroom is closed, and the light is on. Gold hesitates, then knocks softly.

"Belle, dear? Is everything all right?"

Silence. Then, muffled, "Just a moment."

A wave of cold washes over him. Something is wrong.

A minute later, the door opens, and Belle emerges. She's wearing a brilliant blue dress, her hair and makeup carefully styled, but her face is ashen. She looks him boldly in the eye. Belle has never been a shrinking violet, but this is different. This is the face she wore when she gave up her freedom to Rumplestiltskin to save her loved ones.

Gold is no longer nervous. He is frightened.

"What is it, love? Please, tell me."

Belle takes a breath, but says nothing. She raises a hand, grasping a long plastic object between her fingertips, and holds it out to him.

Gold doesn't need to look at it. He knows.

A baby.

The room is suddenly spinning, and Gold grips his cane to steady himself. A baby. He can't have another baby. Images swim before his eyes. He sees Bae as a baby, crying in hunger for milk that Rumplestiltskin doesn't have and can't afford. Bae as a boy, working all day at a spinning wheel so that their little family can make ends meet. Bae coming home with a black eye because he fought with the boys who taunted him about his crippled father. He sees Bae as he last saw him, with a vortex beneath him waiting to swallow the boy whole, and Bae's last words swim in his ears, "Papa, you coward! Don't break our deal!"

He is a failure as a father.

"Rumplestiltskin?" Belle touches his arm.

He is lightheaded, his vision going blurry around the edges. "I just need a minute," he manages to say.

Belle's arm goes round his waist, and she guides him to the bed. He sits, heavily, trying to make the world stop tilting. Belle sits next to him, her hand rubbing circles on his back, blue eyes full of concern.

Belle. Beautiful Belle. Sweet Belle, who he has never once deserved. He focuses on her face, using it to ground him. She's so strong, so brave. For all she may look like a delicate maiden, she has the soul of a warrior, and he's never forgotten it. And she has more capacity for love than he ever thought possible. The woman who waltzed into the Dark Castle and made it her own, taming the beast who called himself master until he was putty in her hands. He hadn't believed a person like her could exist, a human being capable of loving even a monster like himself, but Belle had proved him wrong, and he was aware of how unworthy he was of such a woman every second of his life.

She's going to have a baby. Their child is growing inside her right now.

The baby will be like her, Gold realizes. Strong and brave. Beautiful. Perfect. No child born of Belle could be anything less.

"The thing is," Belle says, "I want to keep it."

Her voice is strong, and there's a hint of defiance in it. He knows her well enough by now to recognize what that means. She's made up her mind... and she's afraid of his reaction.

New memories rise to the surface. Chubby little fingers encircling his, big trusting eyes looking up at him. Bae as a toddler, squealing as Rumplestiltskin stomps around the room with the boy on his back, pretending to be some ferocious beast. Playing with eight-year-old Bae on the floor of their hut, a game of make-believe played in hushed whispers and silly giggles. The way Bae would smile, throw his arms around him, and whisper, "I love you, Papa."

He failed Baelfire, time and again, but - this time it will be different. Rumplestiltskin is no longer a poor spinner, the shame of his village. He's a man of influence with a good home. He can provide for a child. And most importantly, he won't have to do it alone. Milah was absent long before she truly left, but this time -

He has Belle.

Gold's hand reaches up to cup Belle's cheek. The gesture has become an instinctive reaction to remind himself that she is real. Belle will be a wonderful mother. He knows it. She has eyes that see straight into Gold's soul, sizing him up, always seeing his best and then demanding it from him. And somehow, for her, he is able to deliver.

She won't let him fail at fatherhood again.

"Oh, my Belle." His voice trembles. "Of course we'll keep it."

Gold is certain he's never done a single thing good enough in his life to deserve the smile she shines upon him, and when her arms come around him, he clutches her tight. His beautiful Belle. Already he is picturing how radiant she will be with her belly round with their child. Belle is giving him the most precious gift - a family. It terrifies him. He never would have thought to want this, but suddenly he doesn't know how he could live without it.

Gold pulls back from the embrace just enough to put a hand on Belle's flat tummy. "Hello, little one," he whispers. "I can't wait to meet you."

Belle puts her head on his shoulder, and they stay like that, safe in each other's arms, while their dinner gets cold.