ENDGAME GROUP 1: The Other Box (Log 2)

[yourghosthost]

[Off-screen, the groups manage to reunite themselves once more. More notable than anything else is the little black floating box, though if any of you have any information you wish to exchange, now would be an excellent time to do so.]

I know this isn’t exactly on the docket, but I intend on heading in there. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.

(ooc: this is the second and final log for group 1 - if you weren’t here for the previous log, feel free to use this as a jumping-in point!)

Comments

[athleticallyinclined]

[ But he won't.

Already, his vision's growing dark at the edges. He can't even feel Lefou's hands on his chest, only the pain in his spine and his shoulder.

With a great effort, he manages to shake his head, and then clumsily reaches out with his good (well, not as bad) hand to grasp Lefou's. His own hand is shaking, just a little. ]

...Sorry, old friend.

It's hero time.

[ His head falls back, and his eyes glaze over, staring unseeing up at the ceiling.

Gaston is dead. ]

[toogoodforhim]

[LeFou grips Gaston's hand tight with both of his when Gaston reaches for him, looking from the injuries that are all internal back up to Gaston's face.

The words strike him dumb, his eyes going wide and his inhale meeting his exhale in a little hiccup. It's the last words he remembers hearing from Gaston, as he lay on the floor of the castle on the edge of consciousness. Before Gaston abandoned him and went off to die.]

Gaston?

[...And that's exactly what he's done now, isn't it?]

...Gaston?

[He feels Gaston's hand go slack in his, the trembling stilling, and he grips his hand all the harder, cups the back of his neck to keep his head from hitting the floor. His breathing is ragged and uneven, but the hand that was on the back of Gaston's neck now reaches up to lower his eyelids, leaving his hand there over his face.

None of the others will understand why he's sobbing, burying his face in Gaston's chest, sandwiching their hands between them. After how much he always talked poorly about Gaston, after watching him...be Gaston for weeks. It's like Villeneuve all over again - once again he's alone in his grief. Once again, he's the only one in mourning.

But you never really forget your first love.]

I never wanted you to die... I just wanted us both to have a chance to be happy... I wanted you to find someone who could make you happy... I'm sorry, Gaston...

[greatwidesomewhere]

[Belle has been sort of catatonic during all of this mayhem. Firstly, because she's not exactly a fighter, scrappy though she may be. But mostly because Gaston is dying, and she's suddenly rooted to the spot, watching Lefou rush over and try to help him. It's...it's worse, decidedly worse, than watching him plummet to his death. She can't look away, now, can't let herself imagine him just...continuing to fall peacefully into space. This is real, Gaston is real, and he's dead, and Underworld or no, he's not waking up. He's not coming back to life like some of the others have. And Lefou.

Lefou is devastated. The man he spent his life admiring, adoring, just gave up his own life for him, and whether or not Lefou has turned a new corner, Belle can't imagine it's any less traumatic to see Gaston dead. But they don't have the time, they have to keep moving...she has to help him.

Wordlessly, Belle sinks to her knees beside Lefou, brown eyes wide and sad and worried. She had no affection for this man, never once, but it's still a human life. She reaches out to pull Lefou toward her, even though she's much smaller than him, into a comforting embrace.]

I'm so sorry, Monsieur Lefou. He...I wanted much the same for him. He deserved that, still, no matter what he did. [Belle's voice is soft, and warbles just a little.]

I know it may not be much, coming as it is from me, b-but...his last act was his most noble. He did that for you.

[She turns now to Gaston, gazing down at him with a funny expression on her face. She could never have loved this man, not in life, and not even in death, but she certainly hoped for a better outcome for him than this. And some might call her soft, or foolish, or silly for it, there are some who would never believe that Belle LeCoeur would ever do what she does, but she does it anyway, because at her core she's always been kind, and...doesn't even Gaston deserve some small amount of kindness in death?

Regardless of her reason, she bends down, brushing a stray lock of that dashing dark hair of his away from his face, and presses a soft kiss to his forehead.]

Que la lumière de Dieu vous bénisse.

[She rocks back on her heels, looks at Lefou once more, and reaches for his hand.]

We need to go.

[toogoodforhim]

[LeFou doesn't notice immediately when Belle sinks to her knees next to him. He barely notices until she pulls him toward her, his hand still holding onto Gaston's, his other hand gripping her arm. He buries his face in her shoulder with a broken wail. Her words barely occur to him, but her voice is comforting and he just. Cries.

He pulls away from her when she bends down to Gaston, watching through tears streaming down his face. When Belle rocks back on her heels, LeFou brings Gaston's still hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles, letting his lips linger there.

Then he folds Gaston's hands on top of his chest, before he lets Belle take his hand.]

I got so tired of hearing him talk about you...

[His voice trembles with a tiny, shaky laugh.]

[greatwidesomewhere]

[She lets Lefou cry into her shoulder, knowing all too well that sound of broken heartache, because it's the same one she'd fought back so desperately when she'd placed her ear to Adam's chest and felt no heartbeat. Even though she barely knows this man, their shared origin, their shared history makes him one of hers, someone she has to take care of just as she'd take care of her papa, or Adam, or Lumiére or Mrs. Potts.

She watches him rearrange Gaston's hands, and when he says that to her, she lets out a tiny laugh of her own, almost disbelieving, giving his hand a squeeze.]

I can hardly blame you. If Adam spent his time talking about some other woman...

[Well, even she doesn't know how she'd feel about that. There are a lot of complicating factors right now.]

Rest assured, it was not my intention.