Gaston found himself wetting his pillow with tears. Why? And what was this feeling of… misery? It probably just was the pain in his body. It hurt so much; even if he never would say it openly. Something was on the table next to his bed. The pale moonlight helped the hunter to see. Some wet cloth, a tiny bottle -probably some drug to sedate and a glass of water. A medic had come? Well, Gaston could understand people's wish to help him but as a man, a real man, he didn't need help, did he? Only dying men needed it. He wasn't dying, was he?
Oh, right. He was, well, kind of. Memories of recent events dripped back little by little into his patched up consciousness. LeFou rebelled against him, yelled at him… even slapped him. Gaston put his hand on the bruised cheek. It still was twitching. His devoted pancake had NEVER hit him before! Why? Why would he do that? The ex-captain wondered internally. The echo of his own whimpers in the empty bedroom made him notice he was crying again; and realize how much he was alone now. It punched him right in his damaged stomach. It hurt so much more than physical pain. If it hadn't been for LeFou, Gaston would have remained alone all his life! The wounded soldier could have got laid with the same pretty girls of course, but they'd have left him soon after. After all -and he was the first to be proud of it- girls liked him only for his beauty. Like he liked Belle for her beauty.
That cursed witch of a girl! If I meet her again, I'll…!
He punched the mattress and regretted it immediately. He swore between his teeth.
So the Bimbettes saw him like he saw Belle? He didn't know why, but Gaston felt belittled at that thought. Why? He should feel flattered on the contrary! Like Belle should have been flattered to be chosen by the most perfect man ever! Et merde, screw Belle! She'd ended up with the Prince anyway. So what? Did she deserve a medal for that? Maybe the hunter should have picked an easier prey after all. But who? No one had come to ask him, if he was alright, if he needed anything. He was the hero, the savior of damn Villeneuve and NO ONE cared about him?
Si…
LeFou cared -well, used to care- about him. Maybe that was the reason why Gaston had always kept his distance with the fluffy-haired man. That and the fact they were both men. What if LeFou had resist him since the beginning? Would he have given it a try? Gaston wondered.
It didn't matter anymore. LeFou, his only one friend who'd never wronged him, never betrayed him even with the mess with Maurice or during the wreck of that damn castle –where, he the praised war hero had used him in the most horrible way!-, LeFou who was always there to comfort him, cheer him up, praise him, even heal him like a perfect little nurse –a perfect little wife!-, LeFou who had the brightest and most rock-melting smile –that pure smile Gaston hadn't resist to back in the forest!-, LeFou who was the sweetest and kindest human being the ex-captain ever knew… he had treated him like shit! Not only that, now that pure angel wouldn't see him now. Because the douchy prick Gaston was had hurt him again while he'd just saved his poor life!
Never, never before Gaston had felt so sad, so down, so… scared. As if his life was of no worth at all… Right, Gaston never felt fear or sadness as long as his Petite Crêpe remained with him. That was why the crumbling warrior wanted LeFou by his side all the time; when he was courting Belle, when they'd gone to 'look for' her or even when they'd gone to that demonic castle…
"Are you not the least bit concerned that this castle might be haunted?" LeFou had told him back then with the same characteristic sass even if scared and recently hurt.
Oh LeFou, you're so much braver than me…
"Don't lose your nerve, LeFou." He had almost whispered back in a shivering voice; as if he was terrified of the idea his friend might be scared and insecure. Like a child freaks out when even his parents don't know what to do. Did he see LeFou like… a father? No! Certainly not! His father was a dipshit. He'd never compare his sweet Fluffilocks to that vile creature! Like a… mother then? Gaston snorted. LeFou as his mother! Well, his sweet Petite Crêpe had always acted like one now he was thinking of it. Even today. Until the worthless douchebag he was blamed this sweet dazzling angel for all his own stupid faults and his own thick brick he had for a brain!
"What a dork…" Gaston said out loud.
He was all alone now. And everyone hated him. Even the only person Gaston thought he would never be hated by. Even LeFou.