Author's Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing.

Author's note: The Beast is back! Well, as much as he CAN be in this story…. Why did I decide to go this dark route? Remember back when you first saw the film, he actually DOES die, openly and onscreen and back when Disney had the balls to show that, and blood from his wound. That blew my mind as a kid, that the hero could die. And did! Sure Belle cashing in on the three magic words found a loophole around that whole death business, but he frickin' died! I just wanted to go with that unforeseen fear from back then, and look what happened. Enjoy, my lovelies and above all, let me know what you think.

"Crushed Rose Petals" chapter four

"Ethereal Guardianship"

His Belle was sprawled unconscious on the floor. Endlessly he tried to touch her, reassure her, in her moments of pain and sorrow; even now as he kneeled down, pawing uselessly at her yet again. He knew every time he wouldn't be able to touch her firmly, but every time he saw her this way, his heart got the better of him.

Every time her husband claimed her, the Beast tried to hold her face away from what he was doing; even now as he passed a clear paw through her arm. Be as it may, he couldn't touch Gaston, to fling him off of Belle the way he wanted to…and he had tried to, several, SEVERAL times. As this harsh realization had settled in, the Beast had to content with trying to reach Belle and pull her away from her reality by drawing her into dreams, where he could reach her.

She didn't know how often he was at her side, talking to her! She didn't see him when he tried to cup her face and hold her gaze, each and every time that Gaston took her body roughly for his own.

But tonight, she HAD seen him! It was enough to give his shade a glimmer of hope, but a sliver of hope was all he was allowed. He may be attached to Belle's side, but it was all the more torturous that she couldn't touch or see him in return.

Now that his spirit had been cut free, unfettered from his mutilated body, he had drifted as fast as lightning to Belle, always his Belle, and stayed there, always ethereal by her side. And his heart broke along with hers, through her father's incarceration, through the wedding, every rape and beating, and the pregnancy that had stopped Belle from running away to safety at his palace.

He knew his servants would have welcomed her and any child she carried, even were it not his. The Beast waggled his see-through claws sadly over the baby's basket and Louie made a grab for them, sneezing at the cold he brought. "Can't catch me, I know," he murmured deeply.

How sad that was! His spirit had been with Belle every nasty moment this pregnancy had offered, from sickness to exhaustion. And unbeknownst to her, he had been sitting at her side when the baby had been born, whereas the blood father had not even bothered to be present (Gaston having chosen to booze it up with his tavern buddies instead). He had been there, so the child should surely be his!

He considered this child more his anyway, as it was his lovely Belle who had had him. He didn't even resemble Gaston at all, but more over was the spitting image of Belle, despite the color of his dark eyes. And why couldn't he be his? The Beast's engulfing sadness forced his ethereal hands wide. If only he could hold him! He would shield him from all harm, and how lovely it would be to carry him into the room where Belle's smile for him would light up his heart once more…

The Beast snuffed and turned towards Belle's fallen form, his eyes wide with regret. If only he could hold HER! He would sweep her away in his powerful arms, hold her more tightly than he had in ballroom finery and take her away from all of this. In that day in the library, he had said the story she had read to him had made him forget for a little while…. Were they back in that day, and they could both forget the day they were in now! A fool, that's what he was… a fool!

Too late, in death he learned she had fallen in love with him in return. The Beast didn't care that in death his shade remained a Beast still…. But she had loved him, loved him STILL in fact, and it was enough to kill him all over again that he could not live a loving life with Belle as his wife.

His feelings of love, guilt, shame and regret did not diminish from his corporeal spirit, but did not stab as harshly as when he was living flesh.

It was not to say he did not feel them. If what he were feeling were strong enough, he marveled at his Belle's strength to suffer the barbed edges of sorrow and guilt as she thought of him each and every day.

"But I am here, Belle," the Beast knelt beside her and passed a hand over her hair, glowing claws sinking through the side of her head. "I'm still here…."

Belle was knocked out, and just as well. After what Gaston had done to her, her body deserved the much needed rest.

It would have to be in dreams, then.

A quick glance to ensure that Louie would be alright and not jostle his basket off of the table; and the Beast bent his brow to Belle's forehead. His goatee floated down and mingled through Belle's chin, and breathing out slowly, strings of clear ectoplasm floated from his lips to Belle's upturned mouth.

A ghostly kiss, as close as he could get to feeling her truly… and the Beast's spirit tumbled deep inside Belle's mind to her dreaming place. Sharp edges painted a ghoulish image of the town square outside. Social gossip and inclinations from her link to Gaston now overlapped with her childhood memories of moving to the town as a young girl, making the landscape frightening and unyielding to traverse.

The Beast hung his head and looked rapidly for Belle in the dream mush. He thought he had it worse once the spell had been cast, but Belle had had to suffer the verbal slings and barbs because she and her father were different; they were dreamers, readers and inventors.

She had been as different as he.

The Beast marveled again at this similarity and trod on ghostly clawed feet through the cobblestoned streets that seemed to yawn wide in all directions. Belle…. Belle…

There she was! She struggled to move against the wavering streets, a heavy maroon dress anchoring her to the spot. The Beast recognized it as the torn dress she was barely wearing now, passed out on the kitchen floor. He stepped through pointing outlines of blackened people and took her arm gently.

"Belle…" he murmured, and his heart broke all over again as her face flew up to stare into his eyes. Bewilderment and relief then flooded her beauty and Belle jumped to embrace him, both arms flinging about his massive neck. Her heavy dress cascaded away to turn into a simple pink gown she had worn at the castle. Freed from the heavy fabric, her legs went up with her leap, so that he was forced to catch her. How he didn't mind!

"Oh, Beast! Beast! How I've missed you!" she sobbed. The Beast enfolded her in his arms, the edges of his cape keeping her from unwanted eyes. He glared hard at the dreamscape and the twisted town square faded away to green grassy fields in high spring. They were part of the garden grounds of his castle, and Belle's dreaming mind always cast them there to be together. The Beast didn't mind it, for his home had become hers… and she surely had felt safe there.

"Be strong, Belle…. I'm here with you," the Beast murmured gently, the edges of his goatee brushing the top of Belle's head. His body was firm against hers, he could feel her, reach her!... He knew it was only in her dream, making sadness wring his heart, and Belle didn't seem to know that until she awoke. It pained him that she didn't know she was only dreaming now and thought this was real! The pain would be harsher for both of them once she awoke.

Belle pressed sweetly to him, her cheek pressed against his cravat and collar. The fur beneath ruffled gently and, with eyes closed blissfully, Belle held onto him. Let this last for always….

Too soon her brown eyes opened up to his blue and her palm rubbed the soft fur of his cheek. "But I'm home… I don't need to be strong," Belle confided. The Beast held her close, tears leaking from his eyes. "Why ever are you crying, Beast?"

"Oh!... Nothing, it is nothing," The Beast smiled, his eyes wet. "I'm just so happy to be here with you…"

"And I, with you," Belle leaned up and kissed his cheek. Beast's eyes closed, and he couldn't help the tears that matted the fur on his cheeks, then. His arms clasped her small body tenderly….please, God, let this last!

Darkness seemed to dip the edges of the garden grounds, intruding on their sunny day. The Beast walked away with Belle towards the edges of the trees. Beneath the safe foliage, he set her to her feet, holding her close. "Belle, there is something I have to ask you… please, it's very important."

"Anything, dear Beast," Belle smiled impishly, her heart in her eyes. The Beast's heart hung heavy and his large palm engulfed the side of her entire face.

"Belle… do you know where Gaston hid the Mirror?"

Fear lanced through the happy moment and Belle almost bent double, the edges of her going wispy. The Beast grabbed onto her, his hands warm only in these dream spaces. Please, not now! "Belle, don't go! You have to find it….remember that, you have to find it!"

"G-Gaston?" Belle stuttered, pain scouring her middle. Her hands went to her middle and in astonishment, brought blood-soaked palms up to her shocked gaze. With a cry of fear, she held them up to the Beast. The Beast's heart went cold, that he had frightened her lucid self to her fears…. And remembered a night when he had not dared move an inch from her side, when she had almost miscarried Louie… He held her stained palms between his, hiding them. "Mon dieu!"

"Do not fear, Belle! I am with you, do not fear! Just find the mirror…find it!"

"Beast?" Belle cried, fear and confusion in her gaze. A thundering cry, like of a mammoth bird, split the sunny sky and the dark clouds gathered closer to the pair. "The baby?..."

She was remembering the waking world… The Beast wrapped his arms desperately around her, a sob wrenching from his throat. He didn't want this to end, but he had to get her to find the mirror… if she did, and gazed at her father, he might be able to find the asylum… he was trapped, wantingly trapped, but trapped only with her. But with the mirror, he might be able to find a way to help!...

"Belle, please know I'm with you every moment of your day! Find the mirror… and I'll find your father! Find it…please!"

Belle reached, fingers outstretched as his massive form filtered away like unwanted smoke. No! "Beast! Beast!" she cried, not understanding.

Cold lips pressed briefly against hers and she closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face.

"I love you," he whispered softly.

And Belle slammed to consciousness, cold and half naked on the hard wooden floor. Louie cried and cried in his basket way up on the table. Belle blinked, her eyes still wet. That dream…it had seemed so real! The Beast had been there…he had said something important to her…and had kissed her!

Belle gathered the remains of her dress around her and sobbed, her mouth cupped into her palm. Together, she cried with her infant son.

The Beast's ghost stood in the corner of the kitchen, blue eyes sorrowful. "Don't forget, Belle…you must find the mirror."

He waited for Belle to stand up, so he could follow.

End for now

End Note: Now that I've thrown a plot piece, or a mcguffin in, I think this story might get close to somewhere than depressing. What do you think? Please review, takes only a moment! The dream elements are taken loosely from the way Beauty dreams of the prince in the original fairy tale. Always liked those bits a little too much! I hope to write more this weekend at work, until then, adieu!

Come on, review, you know you want to… you all have so much more to say than my clumsy writing, I know it..

Sincerely, yours, penpaninu

12/16/10