No Points For Gaston
Chapter 4 Part 1:
Written by: trivonty
Edited by: QueenOfGeeks

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Gaston awoke in a small stone cell, lying on a cot that he was too big for; he realized this as his feet stuck way over the edge.
He knew from the way that the walls encircled him that he was in a tower. He groaned to himself, only one castle in this within reasonable distance had a tower like this. That blasted fool, instead of letting him die as he had asked, had brought him to the castle, the worst possible place.

Voices he had heard before were having a whispered argument just on the other side of the cell bars.
"What if the Master finds out? He will have our heads Lumiere..." An older, finely dressed gentleman argued to a younger, exuberant looking, but equally well dressed male.
"Cogsworth... He won't be here long enough for the Prince to find him. Just until his wounds close enough that I can throw him out of here without him bleeding all over me. Trust me old friend, I want him here no more than you."
The younger, but still middle aged man shook his head.

"Oh look, the Beast is waking up..." Cogsworth announced, glaring loathefully at the figure on the cot.
"Let us take our leave, I don't want to deal with it while it is conscious." He harrumphed hatefully before nudging a figure asleep in a chair that was just out of Gaston's sight.
"Lafou... Your pet has awoken."

Lafou stood up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and hastily straightening out his clothes.
By the time he had entered the cell door and closed it behind himself, the two older men had descended the staircase and out of earshot.
"You sure you want to lock yourself in here with it Lafou?"
He grumbled weakly, repeating what he had just been called. Unable to sit up no matter how hard he tried, Gaston was too weak to do anything but turn his head to follow his former comrade as Lafou slid a chair closer to the cot.  
He noticed his wounds, both old and new, had been cleaned and bandaged, as well as a pair new trousers and a shirt been dressed upon him; clothing felt so strange to wear again.
"They are only treating like a beast because they hate you, not because you look like one."
Lafou defended, sitting down.
"Is that so?" Gaston halfheartedly asked, not particularly caring.
Lafou took a deep breath, he had so much to say.
"Gosh it disturbs them to see you Gaston, even with your life in the dumps." He began, gazing at the beast, trying once more to find Gaston under that curse,
"Every guy here'd love to beat you Gaston, and not just give you a couple of lumps..."
He had to explain the precariousness of his temporary hospital. Everyone servant knew that the man who had nearly cost them their freedom was in the tower, and it had set them completely on edge. Those who did know where just a few pitchforks and torches away from marching angrily upstairs chanting kill the Beast.
"I don't care what two overpaid servants think of me..."

"Of course you do. You always cared about what the masses thought of you." Lafou remembered.
Gazing closer in the light, he found what he was searching for, Gaston's baby blue eyes remained the same, despite the curse. It really was him.
"The masses? How many know that I am here?" Gaston questioned. Two he could fight, but a horde... Not so easy.
"All the staff knows."
Was the answer he received.
"The vibe I'm getting it's as if there is no man in France as despised as you. You're nobody's favorite guy... Everyone's angry and disgusted by you, and it's not very hard to see why."
Lafou nodded to his beastly form.

"As a specimen yes Im intimidating..." He growled, examining his claws in front of his face.
Gaston looked up at Lafou, who was gazing pitifully down at him. “They are within their rights to act the way they do, I don't belong here, You should have just let me die.”

Lafou looks pained, “I-I-I couldn't, you saved my life. I couldn’t let you die after you had just saved mine.”

"Saved your life?" Scoffed Gaston, trying not to laugh as it would hurt his already pained ribs. 
"I didn’t care about your life, Lafou," He stated with his usual villainous arrogance, but some part of him remembered the need he had felt, the way his body had broken off from his mind and actually wanted to save him.
"I did it to end my life, not save to yours. Im tired of this curse Lafou, the fact that your life was saved in the process was just dumb luck.”

“Your lying.” Lafou stated bitterly. The words Gaston had spit had angered him more then they should of. Proving to himself that he was not as over Gaston as he had led himself to believe.
"Or at least not telling the whole truth. Yeah you may have wanted to kill yourself, but you could have just waited for those self inflicted cuts on your wrists to bleed out, saving me from those wolves was wasted effort if death was your only goal."

Gaston was silenced.
To weak to argue, but how could he? Lafou spoke a strange truth.
"What no witty retort now?" Lafou Crossed his arms, enjoying Gastons inner conflict a little more than he should have. 
"Perhaps... just perhaps, after cutting into yourself like a coward, you heard my cries for help, and felt the urge to do one last good thing before fading out of your whole miserable existence."

"And here I thought you might be grateful..." Gaston started sarcastically, he wasn't silenced for long. "Either way, you should have just let me die. I can from the mouth that you've grown in my absence that you don't want me around any more than the staff of this castle."

Close to agreeing with him, Lafou flashes back to why he brought Gaston here in the first place, not to agitate the staff, or to insult Gaston, but to help him.
The words of the staff outside the castle two days ago had planted a seed in his mind that had only continued to grow. After doing some further interrogation he had come to the conclusion that this was in fact a  curse, undoubtedly just like the one Prince had been subjected too, and if so, it could be broken.

After being given a second chance at life by the last person he ever expected, Lafou was not planning on letting him down. Despite the fact that Gaston had always treated Lafou poorly, Lafou had stuck by him because he genuinely cared. Though now weary of how controlling and abusive he could, he would keep himself guarded.

They had grown up, more or less, together in that little French village, and through it all, the marauders, the war, Lafou had stayed at his side because he knew that under all that self-obsessed facade, way under, well far far under, Gaston had always truly just wanted to be the hero, to be the good guy. He wanted to be cared for admired for his bravery.  As much as he didn't want to admit it, it pained Lafou to see Gaston this way.

Lafou gathered his courage, “I am grateful Gaston, but my debt to you for my life is the only reason I shall help you. Not out of friendship, hero worship or even pity,  and I WILL help you, whether or not you like it. So drag your sorry mess of fur and bones and follow me!”

Gaston, dejected, did not object. There was nothing that could make him feel more pitiful than he already felt. He was starving,  perhaps Lafou would lead him to some food. So really, he had nothing to lose. He heaved his great form out from the now stretched cot.

Lafou led him through the darkened stone tunnels below the castle, each step was greeted with pain. Gaston ducked his head, as he was taller than the already 7 foot tunnel ceilings. They moved through the tunnels speechlessly, the stone floor starts to gradually slope inwards toward some light.

Finally, the emerge through a back passageway that led to a large and equally rowdy chamber. "Wait here. Do not let yourself be seen by the servants wielding kitchen knives."
Ordered Lafou.