Belle's POV

A herald entered the sitting room where Belle was reading to Brigitte. She had been expecting Adam home any time now, and the herald's news that Adam was less than an hour away made her heart leap in joy.

"Yay! Papa's coming home!" Brigitte cried happily and clapped her hands.

"Thank goodness," Belle said with a smile, far too relieved to have him home again at last. She and Adam hadn't been apart since they met for more than a day and Belle felt the loss of his comforting, warm presence. Sleeping alone in the West Wing these past two weeks was a new experience for her, one she was not eager to relive; the room was too big, the bed too empty without Adam sleeping beside her.

Besides, she had taken up Adam's role while he was gone, speaking with landowners, answering letters, passing judgment on laws, and what seemed a thousand other things. She knew Adam's role as prince was demanding, but she never realized there was so much involved; there was barely time to pay the proper attention to her daughter. She thought she could handle the work, but evidently she was wrong. Still, she did her best, but began to lose faith that she was good enough for the task.

Gustave thankfully did not seem to be up to any tricks, but did seem a bit too happy that Belle was having difficulties keeping up with the work. It occurred to her, of course, that Gustave might be doing that on purpose, but she was determined to see it through without complaint. Now finally, in less than an hour Adam would come back and everything would return to normal. And she could discuss what had been on her mind for the past two weeks with him at last.

"I think we have just enough time to finish this story, and then we'll go down and greet your father," Belle said and recaptured Brigitte's attention just long enough for Belle to declare that the princess in the Sleeping Beauty tale lived happily ever after with her prince.

"Can we go see Papa now?" Brigitte begged and Belle laughed merrily at her daughter's inquiring face.

"Of course we can, my darling. Stay by my side and we'll tell the servants the Prince is coming home as we go down." Brigitte seemed to think this idea was acceptable so long as she got to be the one to tell them.

"Lumiere! Papa's coming home now!" she called in her small, clear voice to Lumiere who was, Belle was relieved to see, only speaking to Babette in the hall.

"Oui, ma petite! I shall join you shortly!" he called back with a wave to Brigitte and a respectful nod to Belle, both actions marked by a wide, friendly grin.

"Cogsworth! Come on, Cogsworth! Papa's about to be here!"

"Yes, yes, just coming!" he replied in his usual frantic tone, but even Belle could see he didn't mind being summoned by the four year old. She knew Cogsworth adored Brigitte; Lumiere and Mrs. Potts did, too, but it seemed Cogsworth had a large spot in his heart for her.

Brigitte was upset they didn't see Mrs. Potts or Chip on their way down to the main door and wanted to go find them, but Belle managed to convince Brigitte to stay with her.

"I'm sure your message has spread through the castle and Mrs. Potts will be there waiting for us," she assured her daughter. Sure enough, Mrs. Potts stood with Papa in the foyer waiting for them.

"Grandpapa!" Brigitte called and ran into his arms. He picked her up, chuckling, and held her so she rested on his hip. Barely able to contain her own excitement that Adam was at last coming home, Belle threw open the doors and stepped out into the warm spring air.

"Any minute now," she heard her father tell Brigitte, "your father is going to roll up in that carriage of his." Belle stifled a giggle, knowing how Adam hated to travel by carriage. Both Gustave and Cogsworth bullied him into taking it though, saying it was more seemly for royalty to travel by carriage and sent the right sort of message. Adam didn't care about being 'seemly' or what message he sent, but in the end he really had no choice but to agree to it. Her Adam was stubborn, but even he didn't have much of a chance when Gustave and Cogsworth worked together on something.

Belle and the servants who had come out to welcome Adam home waited until the hour was up and then well into the next hour as well, but there was no sign of him. Belle couldn't help but start to worry, but what possibly could have happened in the short time since the herald had left Adam to alert the castle of his arrival?

"Maman, why is Papa taking so long?" Brigitte, who had been entertaining herself during the wait by hopping across the flat stone slates of the drive, asked at last.

"I'm not sure, Brigitte, but it can't be long now." She tried to believe her own words, but found her faith lacking. Something just didn't feel right. "Bernard, would you please get our horses and come with me?" she asked the captain of the guard who stood not too far , tall, and loyal to the last. "And perhaps choose one other man to accompany us?" Quickly, Bernard went to do as she asked; his lack of hesitation or question made Belle think that he had begun to worry as well.

"Brigitte, come here my darling," she called to her daughter. "Your Papa is late, so I'm going to go and get him and scold him for keeping us all waiting," she said lightly, bending down so she was at her daughter's level.

"All right, Maman," Brigitte said with a serious nod, indicating she very much approved of this plan. "Don't forget to tell him that I was waiting good this whole time, but I can't wait any more. That will make him hurry."

"I'll tell him," she promised. "Stay with Grandpapa while I'm gone, all right?" Brigitte ran to take her grandfather's hand, her easy smile indicating that Belle had done her work in keeping her daughter from sensing her fear. Bernard returned a moment later with a second guard—Paul, she believed his name was—and all three of their horses. Belle mounted Philippe quickly and, with one last reassuring wave to Brigitte, rode as quickly as she dared away from the castle and into the forest.

"He can't be too far off the path if he's in the carriage, Mistress," Bernard said as he kept pace with her. Belle nodded silently but did not waste her concentration on words. She had thought of such a thing herself, but that wouldn't do any good if Adam had left the carriage or, she cringed at the very thought, been taken from it.

The carriage probably just lost a wheel, she thought almost angrily, forcing the more disturbing images from her mind. Still, she could not rid herself of the panic and fear that coursed through her. She called Adam's name as they went, hoping that if he were in the trees he would hear her and find his way back to the road or, if he were still with the carriage, he would answer her and she could stop her panicking.

"Over here!" she heard a voice call some ways up the forest road but her brief elation at the answer was destroyed when she quickly realized it was not Adam's voice. Goading Philippe into going faster, she flew down the remaining path that separated Belle from the voice. As she rounded a curve in the road, she came into view of the man who belonged to the voice: Adam's driver, Stephan.

"Where is he?" she demanded quickly.

"Just up the road. The carriage overturned. . ." he wasn't finished speaking, but Belle flew forwards at the word 'overturned.' If Adam wasn't with Stephan, then he must be trapped or hurt! Moments later, the carriage came into view; Belle gasped when she saw that it had fallen on its side, nearly on its roof where it came to rest in a ditch beside the road. The horses which had pulled the carriage had broken free but had not gone far, nosing the ground for something to eat, the harness keeping them together but the broken trace allowing them freedom from the overturned carriage.

"Adam!" she screamed, throwing herself from Philippe and towards the carriage. There were two doors on either side of the carriage: one was currently pinned to the ground, the other was quite a ways above her head pointed at the sky. "Adam!" she called again when there was no answer, searching for a way to see inside.

"Belle?" she finally heard his voice, muffled from inside the carriage. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you, of course," she replied impatiently even as relief flooded her that he was alive to answer her. "Are you hurt?"

There was a long pause and Belle nearly screamed with impatience. "Not. . . not too bad, I don't think," he finally said. "I've hit my head, and my side. . . these carriages are dangerous." Belle thought she heard the hint of a growl in his muffled voice, which reassured her more than anything that, although he was hurt, he was in no serious danger. Relief flooded through her as her worst fears proved to be nothing. Now the only task left was to get Adam out of the carriage and bring him home.

"Bernard, did you hear all that?" she asked the man who accompanied her.

"I did, Mistress. If his side is injured, then it would be impossible to help him out that door," he indicated the carriage door that was currently facing the sky. "To do so would only injure him further. I think our best course of action, if you don't mind, Mistress, is for Paul and I to life the carriage so you might open the door underneath and get the Master out that way."

"If you drop the carriage on Belle. . ." Adam's voice warned.

"They won't," Belle said quickly, sending reassuring glances to Bernard and Paul. "I trust both of you. Adam? You should get on one side of the door so you won't fall out when they lift the carriage." Shuffling inside told her that Adam was doing what she suggested, but his grunts of pain broke her heart.

Bernard and Paul took their stances by the roof of the carriage and, on Bernard's count, lifted the carriage a little over a foot into the air. As quickly as she could, knowing the carriage must be heavy, Belle scrambled underneath the gap the two men created and pulled the carriage door open. At last she saw Adam's face, but her relief was marred by the flash of blood she saw on his forehead. Now was not the time to worry about that, though. She guided Adam out of the carriage, supporting him as best she could so he didn't simply fall out of the open door, and helped him crawl clear of the carriage.

"We're out!" she called once Adam was safely away from the carriage and the guards let the carriage fall with a heavy crash, sighing as the weight left them. Now that Adam was free, she was able to concentrate on him and his injuries.

"Here, just lie down for a minute," she said, helping Adam on his back.
"Belle, I'm fine. . ." he tried to protest, but his words were punctuated with a grunt of pain.

"See, no you're not. Just hold still for one minute so I can find out what's wrong with you."

"No, I just want to get back to the castle," he protested.

"Stay still or I shall have Brigitte put you in a time out when we get back," she said sternly.

"Well, I wouldn't want that," he chuckled and lay still, letting Belle look him over.

"Which side did you hurt?" she asked, afraid to touch a hidden wound unexpectedly.

"My right. Same side as my head. When the carriage fell I hit the wall hard. I lost a few minutes, I think I was knocked out." Belle gently pulled aside his cloak and stifled a gasp as she saw that blood stained his coat and shirt. Quickly, she lifted his shirt to examine the wound, but it didn't seem deep enough to cause any mortal harm. Bruising had already started to form though, making her think he had broken a few of his ribs. The cut on his head was significant and had already started to bruise as well, probably signs of a concussion. The doctor would confirm it, but she had to get him back to the castle first.

"Wait, you said Brigitte was waiting for me?" Adam asked when Belle asked the two guards to help him. "Then clean me up before we start back, I don't want to frighten her." Although Belle wanted to get him proper help as soon as possible, she understood his request. Seeing her father bloodied and bruised would terrify Brigitte. Paul found the water canteen Adam had with him in the carriage and, using the water and the inside of the hem of her own dress, Belle washed away as much blood as she could from Adam's head. She could do nothing for the blood on his clothes beyond hiding it beneath his cloak, but it would have to do.

"You're still bleeding," she said when she was done. "Here." Before any of them could protest, Belle ripped sections from her petticoats and handed them to Adam. "Hold this to your head until we get back. Estelle will have my head for this," she added to herself as she ripped another longer piece off. "Let me tie this around your side, it might help keep you from bleeding too much on our way back. That's the best I can do though, until we get you back to the castle. Bernard, Paul, do you think you can help him back?"

"I'll walk myself, thank you," Adam muttered, blood rushing to his cheeks and Belle smiled apologetically, realizing she had hurt his pride by suggesting he needed help.

"All right but let them help you up at least. You shouldn't bend more than you have to," she suggested and stepped aside when Adam agreed to that at least.

"How far is it to the castle from here?" he asked, holding the shred of Belle's petticoat to his head.

"A little less than a mile, Master," Bernard said and Adam made a noise that sounded to Belle like a stifled groan. But he was obviously determined to return to the castle under his own steam; Belle wondered if it was for the sake of his daughter that he wished to do so, like washing off the blood to avoid frightening her. They moved slowly, matching Adam's pace as he tried to jostle himself as little as possible. Belle walked close beside him, overjoyed to have him back, grieved by his injuries and simultaneously relieved he wasn't more seriously hurt.

"Papa!" Brigitte's voice rang clear and loud as at last they crossed the bridge that led to the castle. Adam winced at the sound—his head had to have been pounding—but despite the pain Belle knew her husband was in, she watched as a grin spread across his face at the sight of his daughter.

"You'll have to help me," he muttered to Belle quickly before Brigitte was upon them. As Brigitte ran to her father with her arms spread wide, clearly expecting him to pick her up as he so often did, Belle deftly caught the girl in her own arms and lifted her so she might hug her father's neck instead. Brigitte seemed confused by this, but as long as she wasn't kept from hugging her father, she didn't seem to be bothered by it.

"Papa, what's wrong with your head?" she asked innocently, retreating back to her mother's arms and Belle heard the first hint of the fear they had tried to avoid.

"Do you remember last week when you fell and cut your knee?" Belle asked quickly and Brigitte nodded. "Well, that's what happened to Papa, except he fell and cut his head." Brigitte seemed to process this and, by the way her face cleared, she had decided this comparison wasn't as frightening.

"Oh. Did Maman kiss it better for you?"

"No, she didn't, actually," Adam replied with an amused smile.

"Oh, Maman," Brigitte sighed and looked at her mother in disappointment. It was everything Belle could do to keep from laughing. "You'd better kiss him so Papa can get well."

"You're right. Here, you kiss this side and I'll kiss that side, that way he'll get better twice as fast," she instructed and held Brigitte up so she could reach her father's cheek on the sound side of his face and together they each pecked Adam's face.

"You're right, Brigitte, I feel so much better already!" Adam declared and, though she could still see the pain in his eyes that told Belle he was not, in fact, all right, Brigitte was successfully deterred from worrying.

"Why don't you go find Chip, my darling. I'll find you soon, I just want to help your Papa with his cut," Belle suggested when they were inside the castle once more. Thankfully, Brigitte agreed to this and scurried off, allowing Adam to drop the façade he was so valiantly holding.

"I saw you walk up," Mrs. Potts said, coming from their left with the castle's doctor in tow. "The doctor's just seen to Stephan, poor man. Broke his arm, he did."

"Serves him right," Adam grumbled, holding his side, his face twisted in agony.

"If you can stand just a little bit longer, Your Highness," the doctor said, "I'll examine you in one of the guest rooms."

"He cut his right side and might have a couple broken ribs," Belle said as she followed Adam helplessly. "And his head is badly hurt; I think it's a concussion."

"Yes, thank you Mistress. I shall take care of him," the doctor quickly reassured her, though Belle got the sense he was dismissing her. But she was not to be dismissed.

Adam's POV

Adam was relieved when Belle insisted on following him and the doctor into the nearest bedroom. The doctor was one of the best in his profession, but he was stark and direct and distinctly unlikable. Besides, he hadn't seen Belle in a fortnight; he needed to be with her.

"The wound in his side needs stitches and he has a concussion. You also might have a broken rib or two," the doctor said after a few minutes of examining Adam, poking and prodding him painfully. But Adam managed to smirk behind the doctor's back at Belle, knowing it was hurting the doctor's pride that Belle had been so correct in her own diagnosis.

The next several minutes were spent with the doctor tending to Adam's wounds, stitching his side and bandaging the wounds. Adam winced and grunted in pain, but Belle held his hand and he was childishly glad of it.

"You'll have to rest for a couple days," the doctor said when he was done. "No reading and no work to rest your head. Try to stay out of the light, too. It'll hurt your side, but breathe normally or you'll make things worse for yourself. If you're head can stand it after a couple of days, even try getting out of bed and walking around a bit. But not before then or you'll rip the stitches I've put in. Take this now, it'll help you sleep, and take this twice a day for the pain. I'll check on you again tonight." The doctor rattled his instructions off, bowed, and left. Adam barely caught every other word through the pounding in his head, yet another reason to be grateful Belle was there with him.

"Human bodies are so frustratingly fragile," he growled when the doctor left. "The worst I would've gotten if I were the Beast was a bump on the head."

"If you were the Beast, there would've been no cause for you to be in a carriage," Belle reasoned.

"I didn't want to be in a carriage as I am now, either," he retorted. It was a foolish show, making him travel by carriage. Yes, it allowed him to look over his documents before arriving at the noble's estate so he was better prepared, but he hated sitting in it like he was some snobbish wastrel.

"Well, the fact is you were, and it happened, but you are alive and will be perfectly fine after a bit of rest," she said and Adam caught the pitch in her voice that told him she was unnerved by his being wounded, so he left it alone, allowing silence to fall over them.

"How are you feeling?" she asked after a moment or two. Adam lay back on the strange bed, disliking the feeling of being so immobilized. The only time he could remember feeling anything similar was the night he was attacked by Gaston, except now it was his head that felt as though there were an arrow in it rather than his back. And, according to the doctor at least, he was not dying. He supposed it did not hurt quite as much as when he was actually dying, but it wasn't all that pleasant, either.

"My head feels like it's going to burst apart," he admitted. "And my side feels like it's on fire." He had nothing to hide, no pride to save in front of Belle, so he told her exactly how he felt.

"Well, this will help," she offered and gave him the medicine the doctor had left behind. Careful not to bend too far, Adam took it and waited impatiently for it to take effect. In the meantime, Belle carried a chair over to his bed and sat down beside him. "If you don't mind me staying," she said carefully when she caught him watching her.

"No, I want you to stay. Please," he said and reached a hand out to her. She took it and kissed it and Adam at last was able to realize that he was finally home with his beloved. Over two weeks of being without her, missing her every day, and she was by his side again. "I missed you," he admitted, knowing she would like to hear such truths from him.

"I missed you, too," she replied, smiling gloriously at him. "Next time you have to leave for a long trip, I think I'll insist on going with you. Two weeks is far too long to be without you." Adam chuckled in agreement, but immediately winced at the pain it caused him.

"When is this stuff supposed to work?" he complained.

"Any minute now," Belle promised, though he wasn't entirely sure she knew herself.

"I'm so tired," he realized, his head buzzing and his eyelids getting heavier. "The cut on my head—it's all right if I sleep?"

"The doctor told you to rest, didn't he?" Belle reasoned. "You'll be fine, I promise. Just sleep."

"Come here," he asked, pulling at her hand to bring her towards him. Silently guiding her towards him, he pulled her carefully into a kiss, capturing her lips as he had been longing to do for weeks. "Now I can sleep," he said and Belle giggled in reply.

"I love you so much. I'm glad you're home," he heard her say as his eyes closed.

"I love you, too," he replied, but wasn't entirely sure if he said it aloud or not as sleep claimed him.