His arms were full of Belle, and they've been standing like this for good bit of time now, but Gold can't help being thankful that she hadn't protested because needed to hold her here, to hold her close to convince himself this wasn't a dream. Billows of smoky purple slowly faded out of the trees, leaving them in a circle of quiet.

It was the very last thing he had expected, the last possible person—ever—that he expected to see in his shop. It had taken a moment, a heartbeat, for him to process the tangled and dirty hair and the shabby collection of clothing, if he could call it that, hanging loosely on her frame. Belle. His Belle. In his shop.

Physical appearance aside, it had become quite obvious to Gold that she was not herself. Much like the rest of this town, she had remained under the curse and her demeanor was nothing like the Belle of the Enchanted Forest.

When he had reached for her, pulling her into his embrace, he would later admit it was more for his benefit than hers. He'd needed to feel her, to touch and know she was truly here—to know he wasn't losing his last bits of sanity.

Coaxing her to the well wasn't as big of a challenge as he had expected. The town made her nervous, and it had seemed that as they traded streets for woods, Belle was glancing over her shoulder less and less often. And Gold was okay with that because he didn't like the idea of hanging around town with her, either. Regina had locked her away, and the more time they had before that witch knew she was free, the better. Just thinking about it made his blood pressure rise, and he clenched his cane in an attempt to dispel some of his anger. Now was not the time for that.

A slight breeze slid past them, and Belle shifted slightly in his arms, and his breath caught. He prayed she wasn't remembering all of the other things he has done beyond loving her. Those terrible, horrible things. Things he said and did to her, angry words, shaking her in his rage. Gold closed his eyes as if that could keep the memories away.

Only when she trembled a second time did he finally lean back just enough to look down, arms still cradling her close. "Sweetheart? Are you cold?"

Expressive blue eyes dropped at the question, and she shook her head no. Her hair fell in a curtain, tangled and dirty and hiding her away from him, pulling her back into that lost world where she was in his shop not even half an hour ago.

"Belle?" he tried to coax, reluctantly sliding one arm off of her shoulders and cupping her chin as though it was porcelain.

"We need t-to go," she stammered, eyes darting around her as she shifted from one foot to the other.

Gold glanced quickly around them, senses on full alert as the purple clouds faded into the distance. Squinting sharply, he scanned the woods around them, but not a single thing stirred except the sway of smaller branches in the light breeze. Even the animals were silent, no doubt still in hiding from the sudden release of magic. "We'll go soon."

"No," she protested, eyes looking around wildly, her body shaking again under his touch. "Now. We need to go now." Her breath caught, and she shifted back, looking behind her like someone might be standing there to hurt her.

He reached for her, hand barely sliding against her arm, and it's meant to comfort, but she jerked away in reflex. "Alright," Gold tried to soothe, "Anything you want, sweetheart. We can go. My home, it's a bit of walk."

She turned again, glancing at this way and that, breath shorter and shorter.

"Belle," he called just loudly enough to attempt to reach through her growing panic. "Let's go. We'll go. Now." He wished he had his car, although when he heard an automobile rumbling down the road not far off, she turned around in alarm again. It's challenging between his cane and trying to guide her back in the general direction they came, but he forced himself to focus on getting to a place where she can feel safe. Never had he wished so fervently that he could return them to his Dark Castle.

"What was that sound?" she asked, trying to get a glimpse through the trees as they make slow progress over the uneven ground.

His hand cupped her elbow, guiding and steadying her as she stumbled over the terrain, looking everywhere but at the ground. "It's called an automobile or a car. Actually, that was a truck. Nolan's truck, if the red was any indication."

Belle stopped her tracks, frozen. "W-who?"

"A… ally of sorts," he tried to explain, not having a much better answer than that. "An occasionally helpful ally. David Nolan. Or Prince James as he was known in our land."

"Does… does he… Does he know h-her?"

She didn't have to say the name for Gold to know precisely who she meant. "Yes, but he would never help her. She is his enemy. You're quite safe from him. Come on, we should make there in a bit, watch your step."

It was slow going, but they finally emerged from the woods a few streets from his him. If he thought it was the hard part, though, he was sadly mistaken. By the time he finally coaxed her the long way around, sticking close to shade and trees, she was at the edge of panic again, tears streaking her cheeks and lip practically raw where Belle tried to bite her bottom lip and keep quiet, to keep from crying.

"Sssh, I promise, it's alright. I'll keep you safe. Just inside here," Gold did his best to comfort, taking it as good sign when he slid an arm around her, and she finally buried her face against his shoulder and accepted the comfort. He guided he through the back, away from any prying eyes of his neighbors and into the dining and kitchen area. Locking the door carefully behind them, he guided her right on into the parlor and eased them both to a sofa.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered apologetically, words muffled into his shoulder, the same shoulder whose sleeve was damp with her tears. This was a Belle he had never known, anxious and so unsure. What the hell happened to her and where, exactly, was she locked up for so long that no one in this town knew anything about it? "You'll protect me," she rasped against the fabric of his shirt.

Gold rubbed her back gently, carefully gathering her close. When she didn't resist, he shifted a pillow to make her as comfortable as possible. His hand kept a steady rhythm as it stroked between her shoulder blades. "Yes, Belle, I'm here, and you're safe." Only after she gave into her exhaustion did it occur to him that she might be hungry or thirsty or that she might want to take a bath or change out of the damned hospital gown and extra clothes that were obviously not hers. But none of that mattered right now because she was here, and she had finally relaxed enough to fall into the oblivion of sleep.

She was back, and he couldn't be more pleased about that. Or more confused. This changed his plans completely, forcing him to delay leaving town. But he didn't regret it. It was a second chance, and he hadn't had a second change before. He wasn't going to throw this away. He would hold on this time. Hold on to her.