She was somewhat aware of Neal's words, his ponderings over how exactly Rumpelstiltskin had died. It was true, and she knew it-- Desperately, Belle tried to cling to sense and reason and facts, hoping they would dull the pain gnawing away at her.
It wasn't until his arms came around her that she broke down, a choked sound leaving her throat as she buried her face into her hands. A nod, firm despite the tears and lack of voice, was his answer. Because he was right-- they wouldn't, couldn't give up on him. Rumpelstiltskin had sacrificed an entire realm to find his son. He would never let them go.
A quiet apology slipped out under her breath, one hand coming up to rub at her eyes as she gently pulled herself out of Neal's arms, trying to get her breathing back on something more normal. "I-- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... Well, I... if anyone understands, I think it would be you. I hope."
A deep breath, and she swallowed hard before starting up again, forcing a smile to her lips. Trying desperately to give an illusion of hope. "What you said-- about the Dark One? He'd mentioned something like that before. I always wondered... what happened if the Dark One attempted suicide. I mean, in... however many centuries, he couldn't be the first to attempt something like that. There must be some... record, or something. Right?"