This might look like a conclusing chapter - but it's not! Actually, things are just starting to evolve, and from now on, be ready for a downward spiral of lies and blackmail and surprises and changes and - but I digress. Enjoy the chapter below!

...

And I don't want the world to see me,
Cause I don't think that they'd understand.
When everything's meant to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am.

Goo Goo Dolls, Iris

…

"... And it was this cup that made me remember everything – think of it, he still had it, after all this time - and when I touched it, when I took it in my hands..."

Belle had talked all night. The poor girl seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and his father didn't have the heart to interrupt her or to go to work, leaving her alone. He prepared some sandwiches to eat, made her a cup of tea and listened carefully to what she had to say.

He listened, sure – but listening was one thing, believing to what she was saying was another...

"Belle, I don't know, ..." Moe looked uncomfortable.

Belle shook her head. "I know it sounds impossible, really, I know - but it's true, it's true, and I..."

"Belle, listen to me." Moe took her hands. "I don't know about this..." he shrugged, "…this world you're talking about. Forgive me if I find it hard to believe you were a princess. I mean… you say I was a king and the poor old Gold was some sort of, well, of evil imp that goes by the name of-? "

"Rumpelstiltskin, dad, and I didn't say that he was evil, just ..."

"Just that he kidnapped you and locked you in a cell,right?"

"Just for a while, only at the beginning... but then things changed - dad, what does really matter is that... "

"What really matters is that I'm worried about you, Belle." Moe looked at her with a deadly serious expression in his eyes. "You're acting so strange lately. You disappear for hours, you look shocked when you come back. ... And now, this? You do realize this sounds crazy, right? Belle?"

Belle shook her head. "But dad, think about it. Do you remember me as a baby?"

Moe made a gesture out of exasperation. "Oh, for heaven's sake! Of course I remember you... "

Belle interrupted him. "So, tell me, what did I wear my first day of school?"

"Oh, God, I have no idea, it's been such a long time ago..."

"And my first Halloween costume? Uh? Do you remember it? My first birthday present? C'mon. And by the way, where are the pictures of my birthdays? And the school yearbooks? There must be, somewhere, a picture that portrays me younger than I am today. There must be a picture of me as a child."

"Belle, I don't know, I don't know, but it doesn't mean that we came from a different world. Come on..."

"Did I have a favourite teddy bear? A doll? Have I ever had the measles? And the mumps? A father remembers these things, no matter how much time has passed."

"Belle, I don't ..."

"All right, let's change the subject if you want. When did you open the flower shop, Dad? What year was that?"

"Oh, God, it was... no, wait, it was... I don't know, Belle, why are you asking me all of these questions?"

"To show you that I am not crazy. You don't remember any of this, dad, because those things never happened. Everything we think we remember are fake memories, illusions. Nothing changes in this town, never alters, ever. Everything has always been the same."

"Ok, now you're really..."

"How did you meet Mr. Gold? When? Where? You remember this, at least?"

Moe opened his mouth to answer, then closed it and leaned back heavily against his chair.

"Well, of course, it was when... well, this time that I... that he..." He frowned. When he spoke again, he did it slowly. "No, wait ... it didn't happen like that... no..."

He absently rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth.

Then, he shrugged.

"No. I don't remember. I do not remember any of the things you asked me."

Belle raised her arms triumphantly. "You see?"

"But what you said... it is absurd, do you understand? Spells, curses, a parallel world ... it doesn't make any sense. And I'm worried about you, honey."

"I know, dad. I know." Belle picked up the chipped cup and put it in his hand. "Here, take it. Don't you feel something? Anything?"

Moe turned it slowly in his hands, his brows frowned. Belle stared at him anxiously. Eventually, he placed it back on the table.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart..."

Belle sighed, disappointed. "Okay, never mind. There must be something else that works as a trigger for your memories. An object, a person... Gaston! Maybe seeing Gaston might help you remember... "

"Belle, I don't even know this guy, I don't think..."

But he could not finish the sentence.

What seemed like a blast of wind, of light - something powerful, like the shockwave from an explosion - hit both of them, leaving them breathless. Moe gripped the edge of the table and gasped. Belle was somehow less affected by it - somehow, she had already experienced something like this.

She turned to his father: the expression on his face was one of an absolute astonishment, of such a total shock that it looked almost comical. His eyes were wide and he looked at his daughter as if he had never seen her before... which, actually, was partly true. He reached out a tentative hand. "Belle..."

"Father..." Belle grabbed his hand.

"Belle, my daughter, my darling daughter!"

Belle smiled brightly. "Do you remember now? Do you?"

He smiled and nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, great gods, yes... Oh, Belle, the gods be thanked, Belle..." Moe hastily got up from his chair, hugged his daughter and held her close. "Belle, my sweet Belle... What happened, what happened?"

Belle hugged him too, smiling. "Father... it's broken, I don't know how, but something - or someone - must have broken the curse! Do you understand? We are free, free!"

He held her off for a moment, looking into her eyes. He smiled, but he had tears in his eyes.

"Oh, my dearest daughter, thanks heavens! We are free, we are ourselves again, we're together again... I thought I would have never seen you again, after that beast stole you away from me..."

But a moment later, Moe held her away, his arms outstretched. His eyes had a suddenly hard, resolute look in them. Belle looked at him, puzzled. "Father, what's wrong?"

Moe pursed his lips in a grimace.

"That monster. That monster took you away from me, he treated you like a slave - my only daughter, a princess - he locked you up in a cell... in a cell... "

Belle's heart began to pound. "No, father, it's not as you think it is, it's not ..."

"That's why this man ... no, that inhuman, that pitiless being... Gods, now I understand. How could I be so blind? All those loans, all those favors, all pf his kindness... "

"Wait - what? Father, what are you talking about?"

"He wanted you - in this world, as in the other, he wanted to make you his slave - again... That beast, that monster..."

Belle took him by his arm. "No, no, no - father, you don't understand, you don't know him, father…"

But her father was not listening to her. He began to walk up and down the room with the determined pace that he used to have when he was a king. "And I bet now the curse is broken he's turned to the horrible beast that he has always been. Enough tailored suits, enough well-spoken elegance for our dear Mr. Gold. I bet he's his old self again – using his power to trick and deceive people, to manipulate them and lead them to despair and death. I bet he already started to spin gold, that he's spinning the wheel laughing that horrible laugh of his... "

Belle's eyes widened. "No... no, it can't be, no, no..." Without thinking, she turned around and ran towards the front door.

"Belle?" His father looked at her in alarm. "Where are you going? Belle?"

She gave him a quick glance and ran out of the door.

"Belle?" She heard him shout again, but she was already far away. "Come back, Belle!"

As he ran to Gold's shop, Belle absently noticed that the magic pulse had affected everyone in the Hopper was hugging Marco, and both were affectionately patting each other's back: they had tears in their eyes. The Mother Superior was stroking the cheek of the young nun who went by the name of Astrid. Leroy and a couple of other men who were not much taller than he was were beating powerful slaps on each other's back, too, laughing like children.

Belle passed by Mary Margaret Blanchard, who was walking slowly, with an absent-minded look on her face.

"Snow!" She heard screaming. Belle stopped. David Nolan was standing on the other side of the road, staring at Mary Margaret. She turned to him, very slowly. Her face went from the vacant expression to incredulity, then to absolute joy. "Charming!" she whispered, then they ran towards could not hear what they said, but a moment later they were kissing as if their very lives depended on that kiss.

Belle started running again. "Rumpelstiltskin," she cried. "Rumpelstiltskin!"

The shop door opened. For a moment, Belle was afraid of what would come out of it. Was it possible that her father was right? Was it possible that, with the spell broken, Gold had gone back to what he used to be? Back to being the Dark One, to be cold and cruel, to be...

"Rumpelstiltskin!"

Belle closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again.

On the door of the shop - a day's growth of beard, without the tie, leaning on his cane - was the man she had seen every day of her life for twenty-eight years... and he was staring at her as if he had just seen a ghost.

They looked at each other for a long time, Belle on one side of the road, Gold on the other. The wind blew Belle's hair on her face, and she brushed them away with her hand.

"Hey." Gold did not smile. He had deep dark circles under his eyes. A breeze ruffled his hair, too. "I thought ..." He bowed his head for a moment, and another gust of air messed his hair up again, then he raised his eyes and looked at her. "I thought you didn't want to see me anymore."

"Then you were wrong." Belle shrugged and smiled. "I shouldn't have left. I was just... confused. I was scared, I think."

She seemed to see his eyes widen for a moment, but from this distance he could not be sure. "Scared of me?"

Belle's smile widened. She shook her head. "No. Not of you. Never of you..."

Gold looked at her. He seemed about to say something...

"... Because I love you, Rumpelstiltskin." And the second she said that, Belle knew that it was true, that it had always been true, and it had never been truer than this very moment.

"Oh," Gold's face twitched in relief – in relief and something else - and he finally smiled, a smile that was almost a grimace of pain. "Oh, Belle..." He took a step toward her, then another, moved the cane to make another... but Belle had already run straight into his arms. She threw herself upon him so vehemently that she made them both make a half twirl, and they nearly fell.

Gold wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and squeezed her, leaning on his cane.

"I love you, too." He murmured, his face buried in her hair. "I love you too." Belle laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Rumpelstiltskin, Rumpelstiltskin..."

"Belle, sweetheart..."

"Oh, it's so good to call you with your true name again. After all this time..."

"Really?"

They looked in each other's eyes for a long time, face to face. So very close. Belle put her hand on his cheek and stroked his whiskers.

"Did you forget to shave?"

Gold shook her head, and his hair brushed her face. "I thought I lost you again, Belle: shaving was the least of my worries. Believe me, I had even forgotten who I was."

"And now, now you know that? You know who you are? "

He stared at her for a long time. "Not quite. Not really. I've never figured it out very well – you know, being the town coward for so long, then turning to the most powerful being in the land; and then again, losing my magic, being human again..." He gave her another painful smile. "But, if I remember well - once you told me that you like mysteries to be uncovered. Maybe you can help me figure it out. "He looked at her. "Will you?"

Belle felt another tear slipping down her cheek, but she smiled. "Of course I will. For a price."

Gold looked puzzled, but then she laughed.

"It might take a little while, I'm afraid." Gold smiled back, this time a little more openly. "My identity is something a little... layered, I guess. Complicated."

"I like complicated things. And apart from that, I have twenty-eight years of school untaken holidays to spend. I'll have to do something in my spare time."

Gold looked at her. "Oh, Belle..." He slid his hand from her shoulders to the nape of her neck; he stroked her hair, then wiped the back of his hand on her cheek and brought her face close to his...

Belle stepped back and looked at him, sternly. Gold froze. "The last time I tried to kiss you, Rumpelstiltskin, you yelled at me. I hope this time you're going to be a little more accommodating."

Gold looked at her in disbelief, then laughed softly. "Yes. Oh, yes, I promise."

"Good." Belle smiled... then Gold dropped his cane that fell to the ground, he leaned forward, took her face in his hands and kissed her forcefully, with some kind of restrained fury. It was not a sweet kiss, a perfect one - there would have been time for that. It was an awkward kiss, a clumsy one, and he had dry, cracked lips, and his mouth tasted of bourbon and stale coffee, and his face was rough from his beard... but despite all that, or perhaps because of it, it was the sweetest thing, the more wonderful moment that she could imagine, the moment she had wanted for so many years. She understood how David and Mary Margaret – or, better, Snow and Charming – must have felt, when she had seen them together just a few minutes before.

Belle felt like the world had slipped off its axis, and time had no more value.

The blood was buzzing in the ears so strongly that it make her almost deaf, but at the same time she was also strangely aware of a lot of things - the citizens of Storybrooke who called each other with their real names ("Snow ?","Red, is that you?","Grace!","Dad?") - surprised, excited; the wind in her hair. The warmth of the sun on her head.

When Gold broke away from her, his mouth slightly open and his eyes dazed, it was Belle who grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands, pulled him against her and kissed him on the mouth again, for a long, long time. She broke away; there was a moment of hesitation, then he pulled her back, hard, against him, with both arms. He could feel the heat of his body through his shirt, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, his hard breathing.

Eventually, Belle pulled herself away from him, panting, and slid her hands on his bony shoulders: they looked into each other's eyes, in silence. They were so close that she could see the wrinkles on his forehead, around his eyes and lips, his hair turning grey at the temples.

Gold had the top buttons of his shirt open: just a minor detail, but from a man she had always seen with his tie tied in a flawless Windsor knot and coordinated pocket squares, this small concession to slovenliness sent a shiver down her back. She tried to look away from the dimple between his collarbone, at the base of his neck.

"Well then," she whispered at last, with a half smile, when she was again able to speak. "Am I going to be your crutch, from now on?"

Gold stared at her with a quizzical look, then he cast a look at his cane, laying on the ground: he laughed, burying his face in her hair.

"Perhaps, dearie" he said. "Perhaps."