Woohoo! Made the second update! It's still the same day where I'm at so I technically did make it x)

Part 1 of 2

More drama ;) but not the same drama as before D:

*Warning: mentions of verbal and domestic abuse... not in the beginning but later on in the chapter

Summary: Belle sighed and sat beside him in the cells. "You were protecting your family. You shouldn't be punished for that."
Number of years married: 9
Sons: 3
Daughters: 1

~:~ We're both fighters! ~:~

She smacked the rag on the table and turned to him in a huff. "You live for the glory, Gaston, admit it!"

"No, I don't-" he attempted in a scoff.

"Even after all these years of being a husband and a father, you can really care less about me as I do not worship you or compliment you every single day."

"Belle-" His tone was clipped and his brow was set with a firm frown. "You're being ridiculous!"

"Am I?" she shot back.

He took a swig of ale and moodily sulked in the back of the tavern. Lefou sat across from him, quiet as a mouse, hoping not to disturb his good friend. He knew the other wasn't always the perfect husband to Belle - he was Gaston after all. And as of late, things had not been particularly joyful at home.

"Does it ever occur to you that sometimes I don't want you to accompany me into town because you tend to get the people riled up about your latest kill? Or recite new lyrics that you and Lefou have come up with in your Gaston song?" Belle argued none too quietly.

He was well aware of prying ears listening in at their closed doors, trying to hear their parents' argue in the living room. "Belle," his voice was tight. He had spent his life listening to his mother and father fight. It was not a life he wanted for his children, even if they did not fight often. "Could we not-"

She ignored him - or didn't hear him. "Why can't you change! You said you had changed-" she cried. "God, sometimes I see it but then you heartlessly go back to the way you were! Why-! It's been ten years! Please… I can't take it anymore! Putting up with your arrogant nonsense!"

He couldn't deny that she had struck a nerve. He felt his blood begin to boil. "Nonsense? My nonsense? I provide for this family, Belle. I love you and our children dearly. Don't tell me you can't take it anymore!" He let out a manic chuckle. "You wouldn't last three days with your worthless inventions-"

She slapped him hard. "Don't. At least you would be free to do what you wish with whom you wish."

He rose to his feet. "How dare you! I would never look at another woman the way I do you."

"That's not what I hear from the passing widows-"

"That was during the war! I was unattached and-"

"In need of a good lay?" she challenged darkly.

He glared at her with ferocity. "You know I would never now."

"God forgive you end up alone and celibate," she sneered. She shook her head and passed him on her way to the bedroom. "I wanted something greater than a boorish husband! I told you I was not simple-"

"Nearly ten years I have tried to please you. Just once can you not crucify me for some little misunderstanding?" he growled.

"Misunderstanding?" she repeated coldly. "You punched a man who disliked your song- if that's not narcissism, I don't know what is."

Gaston scoffed loudly. "Belle, had you been anywhere near, you would have heard that he was telling all the men around that you were a widow who would be a really good lay, and that all he'd have to do was get rid of 'those brats hangin' around her'-"

"I don't want to hear your excuses. Your lies! I told you we could never make each other happy. I don't know why I married you-"

The venom he felt in response to her bites disappeared instantly. He felt a tug in his gut and he swallowed. They seldom had fights and in these rare fights, she never voiced outright hatred and anger towards him. He feared this would be the end of their relationship. One miserable fight gone too far. "Belle-" He dared in following her.

She swiveled on her heel and laid a forceful palm to his chest. "No. I need to be alone right now. I… Go away. Get out of this house. Go to the tavern. I don't care!"

Belle sat on the fountain wall with Thomas on her lap. Gaston was in the tavern and had been in the tavern for all of the day and the previous night. They had fought.. or she had raised her voice and he had tried to argue but then let her explode and listened. She banished him from the house the night before and she assumed he had found himself in the tavern, drinking away his troubles.

But after waking alone the next morning and sending the children off on their annual trip with Maurice, Belle begrudgingly couldn't stay mad at the hunter for long. She scooped up Thomas and the two rode to Villeneuve. Her little boy had come down with a cold and was unable to go. When they arrived in town, Belle's mission to the tavern dwindled and she sighed, sitting on the fountain wall-

She held a book in front of her and pointed to the page. "What does that say, my love?"

Thomas shrugged.

Belle smiled and kissed his cheek. "Come now, my dear. You know these words. Just like we practiced." Then she hummed, "Maybe when we all return home, you can read to Papa."

"Will that make Papa happy again?" he asked.

His mother sighed quietly and held him tighter. "Papa isn't sad, sweetheart. Papa… Don't you worry about him. You leave Papa to me, my darling."

"But-"

"Now, what about this word." Belle didn't want to further lie to her child about Gaston's mood.

Thomas attempted to slide down her mother's lap. "I don't know…"

"Sound it out, you can do it."

"Thuh.. a-pull…" He bit his lip. "Fell.. frum.. thuh... thwree.."

Belle beamed, "Very good!" She laughed and Thomas giggled a bit.

But her happiness was short-lived and what happened next took her back to the time the Headmaster and a seamstress had the town against her.

A meaty hand gripped her wrist and yanked her forward. She fell to her hands and knees, throwing an arm back as she attempted to shield Thomas from the attacker. The book fell to the floor where it was picked up by another villager and flung into the fountain.

Belle swung at her assailant who roughly pulled her upright. Her fist did nothing to his muscular gut. She noted with great astonishment that he was larger than Gaston. Fear jumped into her throat and she struggled away.

Thomas let out an abrupt scream as another strong villager pushed him to the ground.

Belle turned and collided her fist with his face, satisfied when the man stumbled backwards. She picked Thomas up and pushed him away. "Papa's in the tavern- Go!"

The little boy nodded and ran. He ran through the many villagers that had gathered to witness bloodshed, entertainment, anything on this boring afternoon. He slipped and scraped his palms on the cobblestone but scrambled into the tavern. It took him three seconds to find Papa sitting in the corner with Uncle Lefou.

"Watch it!" a man gruffed.

He was pushed away by several people but managed to reach him. He collided into his leg.

He caught his son as he started to fall back. His grey eyes suddenly full of worry. "Thomas? Where's Mama?" He glanced around the tavern and saw nothing but men drinking. He took in his raw palms and flushed face - his blood began to boil.

The boy turned his head to the door of the tavern. His bottom lip quivered and his little body shook. He hoisted him up and passed him to Lefou who started. "Stay here," he ordered.

He heard the shouting and cheering as he neared the tavern exit. A snarl set on his lips and he pushed his way through the crowd, throwing several to the ground by their collars when they did not budge.

Then he saw a man larger than himself leading the assault. He felt immensely relieved that Maurice had taken the other children to the festival just that morning, but poor Thomas-

The mere thought of his son witnessing this unacceptable village behavior had rage bubbling beneath the surface. Then he remembered his palms - these scum had the nerve to put their hands on his flesh and blood.

He noticed through the surrounding men. Belle swung but was stopped suddenly by the man's fist to her jaw. Her cries pierced the air and the large man boomed laughter. Then he shoved her to the cobblestone street.

And Gaston saw red.

"Teaching children to read- This town has no time for folk like you! Go back to the slums where you belong!"

Gaston, not older than fourteen, watched silently from behind the tavern's walls. He watched his father berate his mother in the middle of town. He winced as his father's angry hand came down on her porcelain skin. Her cry filled his ears and she stumbled to the ground.

Villagers stopped and gathered… then they pointed and laughed.

He stepped from the shadows. He had full intention to stop his father once and for all. He had been a coward for far too long. He should have never let his mother go through this-

But she had been the one to send him off that morning. Her grey eyes were as light and happy as ever. Now, as he stalked toward his burly father, he realized she must have known that this final fuze was about to blow. And she did not want her only child to witness her death.

His father's intimidating form was just in his reach when a strong hand clapped his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He turned to see the kind man that his mother had been seeing in the market when Father spent nights drinking and mornings passed out. The kind man who loved his mother beyond measure.

"Monsieur Jonathan-"

"Stay back," he ordered in a rough growl. "Let me handle this." His mouth was set in a pitied line. "You're not supposed to be here. If your ma sees you- Gaston, you must go."

"But-"

"Don't argue," he snapped. "Do what you set out to do this morning. Go. Enlist in the army. Fight for your country-"

He shook his head. "But Ma-"

The man gripped his shoulder tightly, nearly painful. "Fight for those who cannot defend themselves. For your ma."

Gaston felt his mother's ring in his pocket and gave a faint nod. He stood straighter. "Yes, sir."

"Teaching children to read-" The booming voice of his father rang through the town. "Should have beat you into next year for teaching our son! Man has no business readin'!"

He watched the man head into the square. He watched his shoulders set firmly. Then he watched his father's face transform from anger to cowardly terror when the man shoved him aside.

He felt himself back away from the scene. He didn't witness any more.

But on his journey, he heard mutters for miles and miles. The man had nearly beat his father to death and his mother's face had been badly bruised and bloodied. Then his father had gone to the tavern and drank until he could no more then stumbled out… eventually getting trampled by a wild stallion as he walked to nowhere.

From that day, Gaston swore he would never tolerate any man who treated a woman as such.

Gaston's hands gripped the man's collar and flung him aside. His eyes were dark and his mouth was set in a snarl.

The large man recovered and delivered a kick to Gaston's gut. His lip curled in cruel satisfaction as Gaston landed hard on the cobblestone. He watched his prey struggle for breath again. He had been in Villeneuve for the past few months and this was the first time he had seen such a man who didn't know his place.

Belle regained her feet as the attacker advanced on her husband. Though he was still an avid hunter, no doubt lack of sleep had worn on him. She gathered her courage and-

"Belle," he coughed from his weakened state. "No... Belle, please."

She was about to ignore him but then she stopped as the larger man stepped on his chest. The guilt from shouting at him the night before crawled up her spine. Had she not yelled at him and told him to get out they all wouldn't be here.

He gave a boom of laughter. "So you're the famed Gaston?" he gleamed. He stepped further, grinning as the man beneath his boot struggled. He turned to Belle and he stepped off of Gaston. "And you must be his little wife."

Gaston found his strength at the man's insult. He stood a bit breathless but collided his fist with the stranger's nose. He growled in triumph as he rendered the man dazed. Then as quick as he was on the battlefield nearly twenty-five years ago, he twisted the man into a headlock. His arms flexed - he was truly considering choking the life out of his wife's attacker.

"Gaston!"

He was nearly enveloped in rage - he barely heard her. But he couldn't bring himself to let go of the gasping coward. The coward who dared to harm his love and his son. He lost control as he remembered their injuries.

The man's eyes bulged as he felt his airway close. He clawed at Gaston's arm but the hunter didn't seem to notice.

Belle cried again and Gaston heard the break in her voice.

He let the man go and turned in time to catch the cutlass aimed for his back. The blade sliced his hand, blood dripped onto the streets. He gripped the blade and flung it aside, colliding his fist into the assailant's eye as he was jerked forward.

"Break it up! Break it up!" the constable shouted. He managed his way through the crowd of riled villagers. "The lot of you! Go home! There's nothing to see here!" He stalked to the quarrelling men and shoved them apart.

Belle caught Gaston's bicep and held him tightly. Her fingers dug into his skin as she desperately needed to feel that he was still alive and standing. She pulled him further away from the hungry and vengeful men.

"Can we discuss this civilly or shall a night in the cells calm you lot down?" he grunted.

Gaston narrowed his eyes at the men across the way but didn't say anything. He continued to keep quiet as Belle tore off a piece of her skirts and bound his bleeding hand tightly. Rage continued to boil beneath the surface as his eyes caught her swollen wrist. But he would remain civil. He couldn't land himself in jail and leave Belle alone for one and possibly two nights. Not with this lot still bloodthirsty.

The constable regained order. "Now, what happened? This town don't need anyone getting into fights. It's bad enough the youngsters of this town have wild ideas about battles and robbery."

Neither side spoke.

"What? Cat got your tongues now?"

Apparently so.

The constable grew impatient. "Don't let this happen again. It happens both of you are spending a night in the cells."

The burly man who led the fight smirked and winked at Belle.

To hell with being civil.

She tried to catch his shoulder but it was too late. Gaston crossed the space and punched the man squarely between the eyes and he fell away, out cold.

She watched helpless as the constable and his men restrained him and led him to the cells. She had no choice but to follow as they let her husband to the isolate dungeon near the bakery.

"Thought he wasn't serious, did ya?" one of the officers sneered. He banged on the iron bars before he left.

She winced. Then she stopped before the gate. He already sat against the brick wall and though he was in the shade, she could see bruises forming on his face. She joined him on the ground.

"Are you going to leave me in here for the night?" he asked quietly. He didn't look at her.

"I can believe they threw you in here," was all she replied. "I suppose you've finally lost your luster here. It seems that's what you get when we live out in the country. Far away, and away from these people who don't help with your overwhelming ego-"

"Just answer my question," he growled. He had to stop her further damage to his ego.

She pursed her lips and sighed. "I should."

"You're still mad at me?"

She rested her head on the bars that separated them. "No, I'm not." She tried to offer a smile of peace. "I should have listened to you last night. I'm sorry I didn't. And now..." She touched her tender wrist. "You were protecting your family and you shouldn't be punished for that."

He sighed. "Your words.. stung. Your slap stung," he added as an afterthought. "I had no right to take a jab at your inventions. Forgive me?"

"Of course," she assured. "Only if you forgive me for threatening the end of our marriage."

To their surprise, a chuckle rumbled his chest. "I will." His fingers reached through and gently brushed her swollen wrist. "Get to the physician-"

"Are you okay?" she asked suddenly.

Grey eyes met brown. "A good man who loves his family beyond anything in this world never stands for any harm done to them. Threats, actions- he fights and he conquers."

She wanted to hear him, to take his words in... but these words were just... were too much unlike Gaston. She couldn't help herself. "Where did you pick that up?"

He sent her a smirk. "What? Did that sound unbelievable?"

"A bit," she smiled fondly.

He chuckled again then quieted as he remembered, "The man who wasn't my father. He told me those words just before I left to enlist, just before he nearly beat my father to death in the square."

"He's the one who lived with your mother after your father died," she realized.

"Yes."' He gave a single nod. "He's a good man."

"So are you."

He looked at her. "Maybe one day I can believe you, but not right now." He stretched out in the cramped area. "Lefou has Thomas-"

She fished around in her bag. "I think I have enough on hand to spring you out of here."

"Then we can get away from this town and remember why we left it in the first place," he added.

She raised an eyebrow. "We left it because we kept having kids and couldn't fit in that small house."

"Yes, yes, that too," he smiled.

"But away from the judgment and words, I know." She stood and dusted herself off. "I'll be back."

"The physician, Belle," he called after her. He chuckled to himself as she waved away his words.

Someone get this drama business away from me, haha. Part 2 up next!