She was woken with a jolt, unaware she had fallen asleep, feeling as though she was being watched.
"Good morning, Belle," Gaston's voice said behind her. She turned to see him sitting in her favorite arm chair he had drawn up to her cage. He seemed more put together than he had last night, his hair pulled back smoothly and his eyes clear, though his smile was reminiscent of the one she saw last night. His knees were level with her head as she sat, his legs spread wide and his elbows on his knees so he could peer inside the cage at her. "I thought we could start over."
"Not likely," she muttered, turning away from him.
"Oh, c'mon Belle," he said and he stuck his fingers through the bars to lightly pull at a lock of her hair. She tried to jerk away, but the collar stopped her short and she winced in pain. "Now see? That's what happens when you do foolish things," he chuckled. "Shall we try that again?" She felt his fingers grab her hair again, just as gently as before and this time Belle remained still, feeling dirty as Gaston caressed her hair through the bars.
"I bet your monster wasn't as gentle as that," he said softly. Belle gritted her teeth and said nothing. She knew what he was doing; he was trying to turn her against the Beast.
"What did it do to you while you were there, Belle? Did he frighten you? Hurt you?" Gaston's voice was kind, silky, manipulative. It was true the Beast had frightened her at first, his flaring temper terrifying her enough to flee the castle, but he had never hurt her. And he hadn't frightened her since those first days of her stay.
"I wish I could have saved you sooner, Belle. You were a prisoner there for so long, weren't you."
"No," she said quickly and immediately wished she hadn't spoken.
"You weren't a prisoner? That monster wasn't keeping you captive there? Don't tell me you stayed there willingly?" But she wasn't a fool twice; she kept her mouth closed tight.
"Oh, Belle," he cooed and she heard move to crouch behind her and rattle the chain that connected her to the cage. "Poor Belle. You really think it cared about you? Do you think it would have let you go with me so easily if it did?"
"You hurt him," she snapped and cringed again as she spoke. She was not doing very well at guarding her own temper.
"Because he wanted me to," Gaston said unexpectedly. "He no longer wanted to bear your company. He wanted me to release him from you." Belle shook her head and tried to ignore what he was saying. His words were poisonous nonsense.
"You don't believe me?" he continued when she said nothing. "Then why didn't he kill me when he had the chance?" When she still remained silent, Gaston appeared to have lost his temper. She felt herself jerked backwards by that hideous collar, slammed up against the bars. The collar cut into her throat as Gaston pulled it, making her gasp for air. "Why didn't he, Belle?" She couldn't answer, not with Gaston pulling her collar so tight she could hardly breathe, but she wouldn't have answered even if she could. Gaston was making clumsy attempts at making her question what had happened between her and the Beast, and she would not let herself fall for it.
Gaston released her after a few moments and she took several wracking breaths to force air back into her lungs, anger pushing her fear aside.
"Why didn't he kill me?" he asked again. Belle refused to answer at first, but she felt the chain begin to grow taught again.
"Because he is ten times the man you could ever hope to be," she hissed, turning to glare at him through the bars. "You cannot hope to ever turn me against him. Do what you want, it only makes me hate you more! I'll never—" Her words were cut off as Gaston jerked at her collar again, slamming her head against the bars sharply, making her see stars.
"You'll change your tune soon, Belle," he growled in her ear as she fought to regain her vision. "Maybe another day going hungry will change your mind." With that, he released the chain, letting her collapse to the floor of the cage. She listened to him stomp out and slam the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief.
Alone, she massaged her neck as best she could beneath the collar with her bound hands. She could feel that the collar had chafed her and doubtless bruising had started as well. Her head was tender where she had struck it against the cage, but it didn't seem too serious. For less than a moment she considered drinking the contents of the vial Lefou had given her and be done with this nonsense, but still hesitated. Perhaps she could still escape, perhaps there was still a chance she could be free of Gaston. But where would she go? Back to the castle for her father, certainly, but how could she bear to stay there without the Beast? Gaston's efforts to win her might be bruising her, but knowing her Beast was gone tore at her far more deeply. There was no doubt in her mind any longer that he was dead; the issue now was how long she could survive with this knowledge breaking her heart.
Gaston left her alone the rest of the day, which was a blessing even as her thoughts were free to linger on her Beast. She saw once again his kind eyes, his gentle smile, felt his paw gently comb through her hair. It was a sweet gesture, so unlike what Gaston had done. What she wouldn't give to see her Beast one last time.
Perhaps it was her ravishing hunger that tore at her belly, the dehydration, or her complete and utter exhaustion, but she could imagine the Beast sitting beside her, just outside of the cage. She could see him so clearly, if only she could reach she could have felt his soft fur.
"Beast," she whispered, her parched and abused throat making her voice crack. He turned and smiled at her, his beautiful blue eyes glinting in the early afternoon sunlight, and began to read to her. His soft, rumbling voice went through Romeo and Juliet, the book they had been reading the day they had danced together. She let his voice, real or imaginary, calm her and slowly she drifted to sleep, one hand curled around the glass vial under her pillow.
"What did you do?" Gaston hissed, his voice close to her ear behind her, jerking her awake. Night had fallen while she slept and she struggled to bring herself back to reality.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, trying to force her confused, mulled brain to work. Four nights and three days with no food and barely any water were taking its toll on her and she couldn't focus properly. She gasped as she was suddenly wrenched backwards, Gaston pulling on the chain that connected the metal collar to her cage.
"How did you contact it? How did you call it?" he demanded and Belle fought for breath as Gaston pulled at the collar.
"I didn't!" she gasped, her voice hoarse, not knowing what he was talking about but desperate for air. "Gaston, please!"
Gaston didn't like this answer though, and she felt his thick fingers wrap around the collar itself to pull tighter. The edges of the metal band cut into her skin, blocking her windpipe and making each tortured breath more and more labored. Belle's mind began to buzz from lack of air and desperately her fingers sought the little bottle under her pillow. She could feel the edges of the pillow, but couldn't reach the bottle no matter how she scrambled for it.
She couldn't breathe, her vision began to go black at the edges. She clawed at the collar that cut into her skin, seeking purchase to give her some relief, some air. But Gaston refused to release her; she was going to die like this.
A noise outside the house provided her escape however, startling Gaston into letting her go. He ran outside and she collapsed to the floor of her cage, coughing and gasping, clutching her throat as she forced air back into her lungs.
"Belle!" he heard a voice call from outside, a voice that wasn't Gaston's. A voice she had been dreaming about mere hours before.
"Beast?" she said, or tried to say through her tortured throat. She shook her head and struggled not to weep at the horrible tricks her mind was playing on her.
No more, she thought bitterly. No more! Still gasping, Belle threw the pillow aside and clutched at the glass bottle, her fingers, grown numb from being bound for so long, struggling to take the cork out. She didn't know how long Gaston would be outside investigating the noise, but she intended to be gone before he got back. At last her trembling fingers pulled the cork free and she raised the bottle to her lips. She smiled, knowing she would be with her Beast soon. No more visions, no more tricks, just simple oblivion with her Beast.
Before she could taste the liquid that would set her free, a roar echoed through the open door. Belle paused, knowing she had heard that roar before, knowing it could only be one creature in the entire world who made that sound, but also knowing it was impossible. Her mind was still insisting on torturing her. But before she could raise the bottle to her lips again and end her misery, the front door burst open, crashing against the wall with a loud thud. Gaston flew inside and crouched behind her, pulling on her collar so her back was pushed up against the bars, but still allowed her to breathe.
"I'll kill her!" he shouted. Belle was disinterested in this. The vial was still in her hands and freedom was moments away. But a small part of her mind couldn't help but wonder who it was Gaston was shouting at. A shadow fell across the floor as someone blocked the doorway and Belle gasped.
"I'll kill you if you do," the shadow growled, stepping forward into the cottage. It was her Beast! But she had seen him before in the little house, only a vision but just as solid. Surely this was nothing more.
"But she'll still be dead," Gaston replied, clearly talking to her vision. Were they both hallucinating the same thing? The phantom-Beast took another step closer and Gaston tightened his grip on her chain, making her gasp and the Beast froze. She couldn't see Gaston where he crouched behind her, but he was so obviously reacting to the Beast's actions. Perhaps—perhaps it was really him! As if in response to this potentially devastating idea, her heart began to beat wildly and her stomach fluttered with hope. For the first time in four nights she had hope. Not enough to release the bottle from her hands, but enough that she would give this vision a chance.
The Beast took another stride forward, his eyes flickering between her and the man behind her.
"Don't test me, beast," Gaston warned and Belle felt a sharp prick at her back between her shoulder blades.
"Let her go," the Beast growled and stepped forward again.
"If I can't have her, then no one will!" Gaston screamed madly, the knife point at Belle's back biting harder into her skin. The Beast took a fourth step forward; he was close now, one pounce would have easily closed the distance between them. Gaston tightened his grip on her collar until it was difficult to breathe. The closer the Beast got to her, the closer Gaston got to killing her. Her mind spiraled in panic; Gaston was not going to let her go with the Beast. He said himself that he would kill her before he let that happen. So with every step he took, the Beast was essentially killing her. If it were merely Gaston hallucinating, Belle would have willingly ended it with the vial Lefou had given her. But if there was some chance the Beast might be real, then there was a chance she might be with him. But not like this.
"Please, Beast," she gasped as she fought for air. He froze and looked at her with wide eyes, but she couldn't quite decide if it was horror or surprise in his eyes. He held still for a long moment, seeming to contemplate the situation.
"This isn't over," he growled, throwing a murderous glare at Gaston, and slowly backed out of the cottage. When he was gone, Gaston took the knife from her back and slowly released the collar to let her breathe properly.
"Well done, little beastie," Gaston said in praise. "You drove him away quite easily, didn't you?" Belle wanted to defend herself against this, to remind him that he was driving a knife into her back, but something made her stop. She did send him away. He had wanted to try and save her, and she sent him away. She should have suffered Gaston's wrath if only to give the Beast a chance. He could've saved her, and she stopped him.
"You must want to stay with me after all," Gaston added. Was that what she did? Did some hidden part inside of her want to stay with Gaston? "For that, you get to have this," he said and handed her a cup of water through the bars. She took it greedily, gulping it down before she could think about what she was doing. Worst of all, she heard herself thank him for it. She thanked him. What was she doing?
"And when it's safe, I'll go get a nice warm meal for you. You must be hungry." Her stomach rumbled painfully at the thought, cramping at its emptiness. "And if you keep this up, you just might get to sleep in your own bed."
"That would be nice," her voice betrayed her.
"Good girl," he praised. "You just hang in there a little longer until I can be sure that creature is gone." She nodded and curled her knees up to her chin, tucking her bound wrists in between her body and legs. Between her hands she felt the small bottle cradled between her palms. When Gaston had turned, she found the cork and preserved the liquid inside it. If she wished to stay with Gaston as her subconscious apparently dictated, there was no purpose of her keeping it. But it had become like a security blanket was to a child: safety and assurance that everything would work out one way or another.
"All right, I'm going to make sure it's gone," he said after a few minutes of silent waiting. "I'll be back though, don't worry." Belle nodded and buried her head in between her knees. She was so confused, her head spinning. What was happening? Did she really just turn against her Beast? She had sent the Beast away, accepted water and food from Gaston, even thanked him for giving it to her. Worst of all, the Beast was no longer there and there was no sign of him coming back. That was enough to convince her shattered heart that she had chosen.