Chapter 21

HEY EVERYONE! I'm here! Sorry for the delay in posting this week. Jet lag after traveling from the US to Southeastern Asia is a BEAST! I'm still a zombie! I promise I'll keep the chapters on track as much as I can from here on out.

-Anyhoodle, I am so excited for you to read this chapter. It's one of my favorites in that it rips my heart out and stomps on it. But it was amazingly fun and heartbreaking to write. Love it!

- There is a flashback in here and I know that those always get mixed reviews but it is was essential and so I hope you won't have to roll your eyes too hard at it.

-I cannot wait to keep going with this and I will try my darndest to post another chapter at the end of this week. PLEASE read and review as this has been such a lifeline for me while I travel abroad!

Have such a great week everyone!

"The Longest Night" Howie Day

It's enough, just to find love
It's the only thing to be sure of
So hard, to let go of
A thousand times or more
I was close to a fault line
Heaven knows, you showed up in time
Was it real?
Now I feel, like I'm never coming down

So here we are, set into motion
Steal a car, crash in the ocean
You and I, caught in a fading light
On the longest night

I recall when we were together
Even now it seems like forever
So alive caught in a fading light
On the longest night

Can we go too far to find, what is waiting here?
A little fall from grace
On the longest night

Adam waited. The sound of the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway was torture and he would have put his fist through its smug face if he could have walked a straight line. He tried to make a list in his head of the benefits of what was about to happen. He thought, perhaps, he would lose his mind completely and Lumiere would have to shoot him clear in the face. Then he would die tragically and perhaps his soul would join Belle's and he would...do whatever it is souls do in their afterlife.

Then again, he mused, perhaps he would keep his mind and simply be a beast again. Perfect hearing, smell, and eyesight fine tuned for hunting in the dark. His sense of taste would be a little spotty as things like, say, blood would suddenly be more delicious than chocolate. He was certain he could curb that.

Of course, reality drowns out those sad attempts to make this seem a livable option. Hulking form, hair literally all over his body, talons, tusks, horns...

"God!" He murmured, "I wish Lumiere would just shoot me now!"

The sound of his own voice startled him and he sank back on his heels just beginning to wonder if the Enchantress had been mistaken about the time. He was sure he had heard the clock strike twelve hours before.

The moon had risen and was bright enough to bring some light into the West Wing. He looked up to see the portrait of Belle hanging on the wall where it had always been and would always be. It was the portrait done shortly after her coronation and it looked nothing like her. An enormous gown, bedecked in the crown jewels. But always that small smile playing on her face. Even time could not erase its charm.

Amist all the finery of the portrait, her position was in perfect light for Adam to see her hand at her waist. On it glinted her wedding ring. Plain, unassuming, and perfect for Belle. She had loved that ring. He wished he still had it. He could have used its comfort at a time like this. He remembered the exact last time he saw it.

'Belle, the carriage is waiting. Your Abigail said something was wrong.'

Belle turned to face her young husband with a look of dismay. She held up a plain band of gold with a small crest engraved on the outside and three little words on the inside.

'It doesn't fit, Adam. I can't get it to fit on my fingers anymore. Not even the little one.'

She was, of course, referring to the fact that she was eight months pregnant and that she had grown so plump and beautiful that the dressmakers couldn't keep up with her growing waistline. But pregnancy suited her and it only make Adam want her more.

'You don't have to wear it. You can keep it in your pocket.'

Belle gave him a look of consternation and he immediately looked sheepish. 'Adam, I will lose it if I keep it in my pocket.'

Adam, at the tender age of twenty-two, was still trying to navigate the treacherous world of being an heir to the throne and having a pregnant wife all in the same year.

"Perhaps...I could keep it in my pocket...?"

Belle glared at him a little. "You will definitely lose it, then"

Adam had to reluctantly agree with her as he had lost his own signet ring twice.

"Well, if it's in such danger it can stay here in your room. I am sure no one will mistake you for being an unmarried woman riding in the Prince's carriage next to me."

Belle immediately looked forlorn at the prospect. "I know, I just...hate not wearing it. It means...you're mine and I'm yours."

"That will not change with a ring, Belle."

"I know..."

Adam shook his head and then smiled at her. "The only obvious solution is to not go. You are right, my love. This is far too important to leave here and we will just have to stay behind and protect it."

As he was speaking he had pulled out his horse tail and started to unbutton his vest.

Belle shook her head fervently and laid her hand on his. "You have to go. Your uncle is waiting."

The smile disappeared from his face. "Then you stay and protect the ring. You are far past your days of confinement anyway. I was mad to have- "

"I'm going with you."

"You could end up having my heir in the back of a carriage! Or worse! In a barn somewhere with sheep gawking back at your-"

Belle put a few fingers over his lips and shook her head. "I'll be with you when it happens and that is all that matters."

Adam, defeated, knew he would not win this argument as he had not for the last sixteen times they had had it.

"What are we to do about your ring?"

In the end it was Mrs. Potts who solved the problem. Taking a piece of Belle's coat she sewed a secret compartment inside the bodice over the top of her heart. The ring was stitched in so tightly there wasn't any possibility of it coming loose on its own.

"My Chip loses things constantly, so most of his clothes have a few of these patches!" She chattered as she sewed the ring in with perfect stitches. "This way it will be right next to your heart if you ever feel a little lost." Smiling up at her dear Princess, Mrs. Potts kissed Belle for what would be the last time.

And Adam, fifteen years later, could still picture the spot where her ring had been. He had taken his own off years ago but he wished more than anything that, somehow, it could have saved them both.

He wished-

But whatever he was wishing would have to wait. His stomach did a terrible flip and all too quickly it began to writhe. As if snakes had slowly crawled inside him and were turning circles inside his gut. Adam immediately regretted all the wine and knew that it was only a matter of moments before he lost control of his faculties, fully clothed.

As quickly as he could, he removed his clothing and flung them away from himself into the darkness. He sat on the cold stone floor, bare naked and shivering, as his insides did somersaults and he tried to keep his face impassive in hopes the change would happen quickly.

His muscles started to spasm and itch. As if starting from someplace deep within him. His bones began to ache and wriggle, moving of their own accord. The discomfort was great but not unbearable and Adam tried to brace himself for the moment when it would feel real. If he could just focus he could get through this with some dignity. He thought of his Rosebud and the rest of his family and tried to feel a sense of relief at his choice to do this.

As if coming to the eye of a storm, everything stopped. Complete calm entered his body and he looked down on his naked self. It looked to be the same pale carcass he had always had. If a bit thin and wiry since the days of his youth. He looked about himself thinking, or hoping, the Enchantress had changed her mind when it hit him in full force.

He had let his mind wander and in doing so was not prepared for the level of pain that exploded over his whole body. He screamed desperately and hunched over, swimming in anguish as his entire figure ripped itself in two. Every human function happened at once and he found himself covered in warm wet liquid as he slumped forward into puddles of his own mess. He gagged several times and tried to hold himself together as bones crunched, skin sizzled, and sinews audibly tore from his shape. A fire started from the inside of his throat and descended down to his bowels burning everything in their wake. He was being hallowed out as his form continued to expand and tear through his human body. A ripping sound echoed in his ears as his skull broke and tore down his face leaving bloody cracks where his nose and cheeks should be. New teeth ripped from his mouth and he gripped his lungs futilely trying to get air. A loud popping sound hit him over and over as his spine ripped out his back and shifted his legs into impossible positions to make room. He was a map of misery and tearing humanity and there was nothing he could do to stop it or take his mind from anything but the most inhuman torture.

As it happened, through it all, he cried out in agony that could be heard clear down the hallway and into every room on the floor. He screamed and begged for relief in a way he never thought possible. He would die, he was sure of it. No one should have to live through this. Surely death would be better. But through it all he stayed impossibly alive and painfully awake. And he would hate himself completely for being unable to withstand the change with composure.

He called out to his God for mercy and relief. He begged the angels and the saints and any name or consequence that might come to him for the pain to stop. When no heavenly messengers rescued him, he called for Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, Cogsworth, Elizabeth, anyone. Anyone to please help him. Please to come to him. But they knew their orders and how incredibly unprepared they were to help him except to completely end his suffering eternally.

Then when he realized it would never stop and that no one was coming to end this madness he called for his Belle. He sobbed out her name until his voice was no longer a voice but an unrecognizable growl and even then he howled for her, his heart unable to hold the pain and anguish he felt. He begged for her presence and for her forgiveness. It was her face, her delicate, intelligent face that he saw in his agony. The minutes ticked by for infinities until finally it stopped and he was blessed with the numbing oblivion he had been desperately calling for, her name still on his now beastly lips.