“Mi amor.” Javier purred, his arms tightening around your waist, his chest so warm against your back. “Buenos dĂas”
“Mmhh…” You barely move, tucking your face down into the rough wool blanket you were curled under, hiding away from the chilled morning air you could feel around you.
Hot kisses pressed against your ear, his voice soft and rumbling. “Time to get up.”
“No, fuck no.” The grumble passed your lips, already set in a frown. “I don’t wanna, not today.” With a yawn your hands found his, not to push him away but rather to hold him against you. More than happy to stay under the blanket with him all day.
His teeth let go from where they had been nibbling your ear. “Breakfasts ready.”
Without even opening your eyes you knew he was right, you could hear Pearson setting out this mornings stew, calling everyone in and the tired footsteps of the other gang members as they made their way over.
“Fuck breakfast.” You growled, trying to tug your knees up as much as you could with him pressed along your back. “Always tastes like Pearsons been washin’ his underpants in it anyways.” You had something of a bet going with Karen that was the actual reason his stews always tasted off, everyone knew the meat Arthur was bringing into camp was good and fresh, no reason for it to end up tasting like it does.
Javier gave a light laugh at that. “Maybe, but we still gotta eat.”
“Go on ahead, I’ll catch up, in about three hours.” You yawned, shifting your cheek against your coat bundled up that served as your pillow.
His arms squeezed before retreating. “How about I pull off this blanket then, eh? Wouldn’t want everyone to see you so exposed?”
You rubbed your knees together, idly remembering that you were in fact only wearing your blouse and stockings, grinning just a bit at the memory of how you’d came to be so. While the two of you were far more private and reserved than some of the other gang members you weren’t to turn down a good opportunity for a fuck just because you were in camp. It had been late and everyone had already bedded down for the night, with the two of you curled up together beneath the thick blanket it wasn’t hard to shed yourself of your skirts. Deciding it was easier than hitching them up uncomfortably and have Javier press himself up against your back and lift your thigh up over his. Just having to stay quiet as he leisurely thrust deep into  you, his mouth leaving marks on your neck and his fingers rolling your nipples.
It had been a good time, perhaps one you could repeat again tonight.
“Go on then and see if I care.” In truth you would care, but only so much for the warm blanket being stripped away. There was plenty of folks in the world who had already seen your bare ass and more than you would have liked in this camp, after that failed robbery attempt that had somehow left you running through a crowded saloon in nothing but your shoes. You were quite sure he wouldn’t want everyone to see you, he had something of a possessive streak that was just enough to be more endearing than annoying. But your eyes did snap open when he tugged the blanket then take a hold of you and roll you onto your back. Blearily squinting up you found yourself on gazing up at him as he leaned over you, the light piercing at your eyes. “… Mornin'” You grunted, at a loss for any snarky remarks.
His hair was still loose about his shoulders and it really wasn’t fair how handsome he was this morning, his shirt unbuttoned a little showing off his collar bones and down along his chest. “Ah there she is, mi princesa.”
“Hey there, pretty boy.” You sighed, it was hard to be mad when waking up to such a lovely sight. Reaching up and snatching his shirt you pulled him further down with no resistance from him, he came to lean over you on his elbows, pinning you down to your bedroll.
“Thinking of getting up yet?” Javier asked, his warm breath ghosting over your cheeks. While you busied yourself tangling your hands in his hair, brushing it back from his face.
“Hmm, in a bit.” You grinned, leaning up and meeting him in a sweet kiss.
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Ernesto only smirked at him. “I just wanted a little chat, some quality time with my old amigo as it were and seeing as you're a remembered family man now with no time to spare you are somewhat tricky to get a hold of.”
“Nice place for a meeting, huh?” He couldn't help but growl, making a point of lifting his head and peering around at the darkened dead end of an alley they were in.
“Ehhhh, we take what we’re given.” Ernesto shrugged before he clasped his hands together and his gaze turned intense. “I have a little proposition for you, a business deal if you will, since that whole stunt you pulled at the Sunrise Spectacular rather tarnished my name-”
Ernesto nodded to one of the men who smashed his fist down across their captive's skull, knocking the air out of him and silencing him once again. “Anyway, since that whole thing I can't say I particularly like you anymore but I think I have found a solution! And that is I want you to work for me.”
“...Work for you?”
“SĂ, write some songs, play some music. It'll be just like old times!” Ernesto was leering at him now and he couldn't help but try to shrink back as much as he could between the men.
Ernesto smiled a little more, though it was anything but comforting. “To put it simply I want you to come with me, to stay with me. You'll be mine to do with whatever I please. Sure there will be writing music but that's not the main thing I want from you, what I want is to make you suffer.”
“I think you will actually.” Ernesto stopped his fury, his voice as calm and collected as it ever had been. “Because if you say no I'm afraid something awful might happen to your precious family.”
“The famous Rivera family shoe makers, everybody knows who they are and where they live, they make the best shoes around after all.” Ernesto took a few steps closer to stand directly before him. “Let's see, there's that whore of yours Imelda, those two twit brained twins who were so damned annoying always following us around as children, looks like they're still just as idiotic now. Isn't that pathetically small man your daughter's husband? And then there's that girl, what's her name? Victoria? Your beloved granddaughter? I'm sure she'd scream nicely under one of my men.”
“Don't you fucking touch her! Any of them! If you do I'll-” He screamed, his feet scraping uselessly against the ground as he tried to stand, the men pressing tighter on either side to keep him restrained.
The Blinky-Thingy made that horrendous sound again and something inside him broke. He stared, not daring to even take a breath, his eyes wide and his fingers locked tightly around the rim of his hat.
The check in agent frowned, glancing up at him through her lashes. “I'm sorry, it doesn't look like you can go through.”
He felt sick down somewhere where his stomach used to be, his long gone throat feeling like it was
closing up and choking him. “... But...” He tried to find words to help himself, pausing and staring at her, his hat crushed to his ribs. “... But my family...” He needed to explain to her that Coco had given his photo to the family, that she and Miguel and stuck it back together and his daughter had assured him he could go through this year.
“I'm sorry but it doesn't seem you have a photo on a Ofrenda.” She shrugged her shoulders, her brow drawn inwards with discomfort.
“I... can't...” He fumbled, his eyes flickering all over the place anywhere but meeting her gaze.
“What?”
“I'm afraid he can't go through.” The agent spoke up gently, an apologetic look on her face.
“What?” She snarled again, disbelief taking over her features. “Don't be ridiculous! Of course he can go through! Our grandson has put his photo up on our family's Ofrenda.”
She silenced him with a wave of her hand. “Your idiotic devil box is just wrong! Try it again I assure you it will work.” She took a hold of his arm and pulled him back in front of the scanner from where he had backed off.
“... Señora the scanner isn't wrong...” The agent tried, but was cut off by the elder woman's harsh glare and with a sigh she turned the dials to retry.
“I'm sorry but you can't go through...” The woman tried to explain again, looking both disappointed for him and a bit anxious eyeing his wife.
“No! I'm telling you that thing is wrong! We will show you!” Imelda growled, snatching up his wrist and forcefully yanking him along with her. “Our Miguelito put up our photos!”
He fought not to trip over as he struggled to match her pace, slamming his hat back on his head before he dropped it. “Imelda, don't.” He begged, his frightened eyes watching the station guards who merely stood and blankly watched his wife's fury, perhaps thinking it was better that she see for herself what was wrong. “Please, Imelda! Stop, I'll go back.”
“Don't be foolish, you're coming to join the rest of the family for Dia Dos Los Muertos and that's all there is to it, their devil box is just broken, you'll see.” She snapped at him, not letting up on her grip one bit and allowing him no escape, it was either loose his arm or let her drag him.
They were making their way across the bridge entrance, other people glancing at them in curiosity as she marched them on. The anxious sickness in his chest only grew, he didn't want this to happen, he didn't want to fall through the petals again and he certainly didn't want her to see it, to see just how broken he was.
“Papa?!” Coco sidled up to them, near jogging to keep up with them. “Mama? What's happened?” She looked between her parents, their distress and anger easy to see.
“Nothing happened, there is just some problem with their records.” Imelda spoke, her voice softer for her daughter but still firm.
“... Papa?” Coco looked between them confused.
He wobbled, trying to not fall over as he sank in a little more, his arms outstretched and flailing for balance with nothing to grip onto. “... Could you... Just … just a second.” Neither of them thought to help him in their shock and he eventually just gave up and let himself tumble backwards into the petals in favour of crawling out back to solid ground on his hands and knees. He pulled himself up where the flowers met stone and did his best to right himself, dusting petals off him and straightening his clothes and hat, hands trembling as he refused to meet their eyes.
His head lifted as he peered at them, his hands locked on his suspenders as he tried to give them the weakest smile Imelda had ever seen. “Guess I'm not going, huh?”
Coco looked distressed, her head shaking. “No papa, we'll sort it, I gave Miguel your old photo you should be able to cross!” She was wringing her hands anxiously. “I said you could cross, I don't understand what's wrong.” She had promised the photo was in safe hands with the orders to put it up on the Ofrenda, she had spent the past week soothing her father's fears because yes the photo did exist and Miguel was taking good care of it.
“Mija, it's okay, why don't you go wait with everybody else while your Mama and I talk?” He tried.
She shook her head. “That means you're not coming.” Her voice wobbled dangerously.
“Coco.” He tried to be stern, something he had never been good at, he had always been the fun parent, Imelda was the rule maker. With one last pleading look at him she turned and headed off up the bridge to where the rest of the family was waiting for them. “So...” He began, rocking on his heels and trying to find words through a throat that felt like it had locked up. “I told you it wouldn't work...”
“I thought you could come...” Imelda breathed, an expression of horror settled over her features.
“Not so lucky, eh? … well … it's fine, it doesn't matter I only ever wanted to cross before to see you and Coco... but... but you're here now so no need? I have everything I want with me.”
She could easily see through his lies, her voice coming out soft and gentle. “But... you wanted to see Miguel again and meet everyone else.” She knew he had been listening intently to stories of their family in the living world, Coco and Rosita filling him in on all the gossip and in his own words he wanted to know each person when he saw them.
No, she supposed not, it seemed like the pair of them never could have what they wanted most, not truly, but this just wasn't fair. She shook her head, trying to control her emotions. “We'll find a way, Oscar and Felipe will carry you.” She knew even as she said it that wasn't an option, there was no telling what would happen to him even if they did manage to carry him into the living world, he wasn't remembered enough to cross, perhaps he would fade away the further he went. It wasn't worth the risk.
“Imelda... it's alright, go on, they're waiting for you.” His hand reached out to comfort her before he realised he couldn't get close enough to touch her, his arm dropping back down to his side.
“They're waiting for both of us! If you're not going then I'm not either. I'm staying with you.”
He was shaking his head adamantly “No, you didn't get to cross last year because of me, it's not happening again... look, it's fine, I'm fine, just go. You want to see them, go be with your family.” He winced at his own words.
“They're your family too...” She tried, his slip up far more telling than either of them liked, he still clearly thought of himself as unworthy to be included in the family, that he somehow still didn't belong.
He could only shrug and smile sadly at her, his fingers clenching tight and tugging his suspenders anxiously. “... Please go, I want at least one of us to... just...” He looked fragile, searching for the words, his chest still heaving. “... Just don't forget to come back for me, yeah?” With one last glance at her he was turning and already walking back towards the station, leaving her standing alone on the bridge trying not to cry.
Summary: In the Land of the Dead bones are a very profitable business and nobody really ever cares if some near Forgotten Shantytown residents happen to go missing from time to time.
“Don't go out alone at night.” Chich growled at him one evening over their bowls of rice and beans, sitting around a fire in an old oil barrel with a group of Shantytown residents. “Now that yer down here with us you gotta be careful, if ya ain't the bone collectors will get ya.”
“Bad folks who want your bones to sell.” One of the Tias replied, looking up from her own bowl.
He glanced around at the group, waiting for some climax of a joke or someone to start laughing, because it surely had to be a joke, right? “People do that? Really?” He near didn't believe it, but not one face around him held anything like a smile, all of them only nodding with sombre expressions.
“They took Elias last month and tried taking Emilo the other day.” Another one of them spoke, nodding her greyed head towards the ragged teen sitting beside him.
Emilo took a drag of the cigar in his mouth, the smoke escaping out from his ribs. “Lucky for me the war left me with some fast reflexes, I knocked the guys head off when they jumped me and ran all the way home.”
He heard the snap of the rifles magazine being loaded. “Believe me amigo it takes longer to climb in through that window than barge in the door and I will have shot them in that time. Don't worry you're safe with me.”
Yes so safe, he couldn't help but think to himself, in a small room with a trigger happy insomniac. He had only been staying here for little over a week and the amount of times he had gotten out of bed in the night for a drink only to startle the teen and find himself staring down the guns barrel was enough to make anyone question their safety. He supposed at least he would probably get a warning if someone did break in while he was asleep, after Emilo had been killed in his sleep during the revolution his jumpy nerves meant it would be hard for anyone to sneak up on him again.
“Ey, I can almost hear your brain overworking, go to sleep will you?”
“And you're still not asleep.” The boy groaned. “You've been down here, what? A week? Have you ever seen a police officer around here in all that time?” He asked, waiting for the response that didn't come because they both knew police never came this far down. “They don't care what happens to people like us, that's why we gotta look out for each other. Now please go to sleep.”
A wailing sound caught his attention coming from an alleyway just ahead of him and he paused. It was a baby crying. He glanced towards the noise in confusion, those weren't houses down there it was businesses that had already closed or storage buildings, he stopped and waited, hoping that it was just a family passing through the alley as a short cut on their way home perhaps, yet as he stood there the crying didn't stop nor did it fade like someone was walking away with their child. He peered about once more at the empty street, darkness beginning to fall around him, no one else was here at all and he couldn't just walk away if it was a child alone, he would feel awful for the rest of the night with worry. With his mind made up he turned on his heel and headed down the narrow alleyway away from the dying light and out of sight of any would be passers by.
Walking further down and he found the alley full of wooden crates, most likely from the businesses that backed onto this area and just on the other side of one he found the child, only an infant sitting on her behind wearing a pale pink sleep suit and a ribbon tying up her little scruff of dark hair.
“Is someone there?” He called over his shoulder, glancing about and holding the little girl closer to him. “Hello? Anybod- Ah!” A sack was thrown over his head as someone grabbed him from behind and the baby snatched away from him. “No! Get off!” He cried, muffled under the sack, the person against his back grabbing a hold of his flailing arms and pulling them back while someone else grabbed him around the knees and hefted his legs up. The baby was screaming somewhere nearby and he was frightened for her but just as scared for himself as he was lifted between his attackers and carried. “No! Please stop!”
There was the distinctive sound of a van door being slid open before he was roughly thrown inside, the bag still softening his cries as someone got in with him, hands firmly keeping him pinned down and rope being wrapped around his wrists. He continued to struggle as he heard the door slam shut and the engine start.
“Stop fighting amigo, we don't want you to hurt those nice bones of yours!” His attacker chuckled as the van rumbled down the street. Away from his friends or anyone that could help him.
Hey, are you ever planning on finishing El Viento Bajo Mis Alas? Cause I think that's one of my favorite fics out there.
Ahhhhhh thankyou so much for reading it! I’m so pleased you liked it! I will continue it for sure but it’s the matter of its one of many fics I have going on, writing is one of my many hobbies and I have a full time job that drains me haha (cries) So it’s whenever I can find the time <3Â
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Summary-Â The murals above the gateway to Shantytown had been there for generations, nobody knew who had painted them but whoever it was knew something, something about angel like skeletons with wings.It's a wingfic y'all.
Miguel disappeared in a blinding light and fluffy of petals just as the dawns gleam touched over the balcony, leaving marigolds drifting down peacefully to the floor as the only sign he was ever there at all. Hèctor managed a smile. “He's safe.” He breathed, his eyes slipping closed with pure exhaustion.
“That's right, he's safe, we got him home.” Imelda soothed, her hand still holding his though she didn't need to anymore, they had used the petal, their great-great-grandson had been sent back to the Land of the Living.
“... We did it...” He tried to grin at her, only just managing to tilt his head the slightest bit towards her and his lips twitch up into a sad memory of the loving smirk he used to give her when they were alive. “Mmhh.” He breathed out a groan when another flash trembled through his bones. “Imelda... I'm sorry...”
“Shut up you idiota.” She hissed, her hands clutching tighter at his. “It's alright.”
“No... you need to know... I-I never stopped... never stopped trying to come home to you... never stopped loving you... you and Coco, my girls...” He swallowed thickly, his free hand struggling to reach up and stroke his knuckles along her jaw. “... I'm sorry... I always... always loved you...”
“Don't you dare.” She gasped, tears shining in her eyes without a care that her family was watching and stepping a little closer, like they could protect them from the world if they stood together. “You're trying to say goodbye … but I don't want you to go, you can't leave me, not again.” She caught his hand in hers, pressing her cheekbone to it.
“... I don't think I have a choice...” He groaned against another spasm of light.
“I know.” She sobbed, tears spilling down her face.
His eyes were barely open, yet still completely focused on her even as the light grew brighter, his facial markings glowing. “Mhhhh, it hurts...” His hands seized in her grip, clenching around her fingers as he tried to cope with the pain. “... I'm glad that I got to see you again... one last time... you're here...”
“And I'm not going anywhere, we're together again everything will be alright.” She tried to give him a smile, neither of them could be fooled by her words, they both knew how this was going to end.
“Imelda... mi amor, you were my everything... you and Coco were my dream come true... and I'm thankful I could have that dream... even if it was only for a little while...” His voice was growing weaker and barely able to be heard.
“And you were mine, if I could I would do it all again, in any life I would always choose you.” She pressed her lips to his hand, his eyes were still watching her through mere slits, the rest of his face gone slack and his fingers gave one last twitch beneath hers. His eyes fell closed finally and the light overwhelmed him, glowing like a brightly burning flame. “No!” She cried, “Hèctor! No, no, no!” Little sparks of light like dying embers rose into the air as his bones turned to dust, collapsing in on themselves. She still held fiercely onto his hands, unwilling to let go even when all hope was lost.
The air around her felt alive with power, like electricity in the air before a thunderstorm and the light taking her husband away only grew brighter, far too bright. All of them flinched away from the blinding glow, her hands dropping his to shield herself. There was a great spark of energy that was gone as soon as it had come and the light died away.
Imelda blinked furiously, trying to gather her sight back from the temporary blindness and the first thing she saw was Hèctor's face, still whole and here, laying peacefully just as he had been a moment ago. She let out a relieved sob, her eyes a little wild and a grin on her lips.
“Dios mio...” Julio breathed behind her.
“He's got...” Victoria began before trailing off in shock.
“Wings...” Felipe concluded, his eyes wide and hat clutched in his hands, his brother wearing an identical expression at his side.
She stared down at the man she had called the love of her life, it was true a pair of large white feathered wings lay at his sides, long flight feathers reaching down past his feet. What on earth was going on?
“... He's not disappearing anymore!” Rosita gave a nervous laugh, all of them crowing around the pair. “I don't understand but this is wonderful!”
Imelda gave a weak nod, reaching out a trembling hand to touch a nearby feather of one wing, it was so smooth and soft beneath her bones, and so very real, he was real. Her fingers trailed down to find his hand again where it had fallen to the floor, he was still here and real!
“Uh, Imelda I don't want to hurry you but there is a crowd of thousands of people right behind here and I think they're going to find us soon.” Oscar spoke up, worriedly glancing towards the stage they had come from, knowing what the girls had done and that people must have seen what had happened, eventually some people were bound to come looking for them.
“I think that's the last thing we need right now.” Felipe agreed.
“But what are we supposed to do with him?” Victoria questioned, staring around at her family members.
Imelda sucked in a harsh breath, her hand furiously rubbing away tears that still lingered on her cheekbones. “We take him home.” She decided, knowing that her family needed her to lead them. “We can try to sort this out there we just need to go somewhere private where we can think.”
Her brothers gently gathered Hèctor up between them while she whistled for Pepita who came back down looking incredibly pleased with herself and was purring when Imelda climbed up on her back, with caution and a jointed effort they got Hèctor up on the alebrije. When the rest of her family had managed with a squeeze to climb aboard they were off through the sky, she leaned forward with her husband practically pinned beneath her to ensure he wouldn't slide off.
It felt it had been an age when they finally landed in their courtyard, the walls around their house keeping out any curious eyes as the twins took ahold of the unconscious man again, one of his arms pulled across either twins shoulders. They paused and both looked at their sister with an unasked question, waiting for instructions. “Let's get him into my room.” She nodded, before leading the way into the house and on towards her own bedroom. Oscar and Felipe grumbled to themselves as they followed, Hèctor's large wings were dragging along on the floor and they struggled not to trip up. “Bring him over here.” She called, opening the door and walking across the room, already pulling back the bed covers. They got him into the bed, laying on his side with his impressive wings draped across the width of the mattress behind him, his feathers reaching down the other side to brush against the floor.
“So?” Oscar began, eyeing her as she warily observed the new body parts.
“What should we do?” Felipe asked.
Imelda leaned forward, Hèctor facing away from her and her hand reached out to touch at the base of his wings, she found that sure enough they were certainly attached, a new set of smaller scapula like bones just tucked under his original set. Strangely, or perhaps rightly so the wings were just as devoid of flesh as they all were, the soft feathers digging themselves directly into his bones in a most peculiar way.
The rest of the family had gathered around her, staring with her. “What can we do?” Victoria murmured. “The man has wings, I've never seen anything like it, I bet nobody has.”
“But perhaps surely someone must know about this? Someone who's been here a long time?” Rosita suggested, her doe eyes glancing around her family.
“Or a doctor.” Julio nodded.
“Or we just ask him when he wakes up.” Felipe shrugged. “He's been here longer than us and they're his wings, maybe he knew this would happen?”
“That's if he wakes up.” Oscar frowned, only for Rosita to jab her elbow into his ribs with something of a glare.
“You know what.” Imelda sighed as she turned towards them. “It's been a very long night and you all must be tired, why don't you all go get some rest?”
“But Mama Imelda, where will you sleep?” Rosita questioned gently, glancing nervously between her and the unconscious man.
She shrugged. “It's fine, I'm not really tired right now, I think I'll sit with him for a while.”
“Well if you're sure...” Victoria frowned.
“I am, now to bed with all of you.” She herded everyone out of her room and closed the door behind them. Secretly pleased when they were gone, as much as she loved her family she wanted some quiet time alone to think right now and there was certainly a lot to think about. She pulled a chair over from her vanity table to sit at his side and couldn't help but notice how grubby he seemed in her clean bedding with his ragged clothes, the wings had ripped apart the back of the remaining scraps of a jacket he wore, leaving only the surviving sleeve and some rags hanging around his shoulders. She tugged up her soft purple bed covers over him and tucking them around his ribs to allow for the ridiculously large wings, they suited him she couldn't help but think, he'd always had been a tall lanky thing, the new bones only added to that effect.
“What have you gotten yourself into this time?” She murmured gently, reaching out and brushing away hair from his closed eyes, his ribs steadily rising and falling with his breath. It was a pleasant reminder he was still here, he was here and breathing, he hadn't disappeared yet.
She could only hope here was where he'd continue to stay.
Summary: Miguel never travelled to the Land of the Dead, Hèctor spends the whole night desperately trying to cross the bridge. It's sunrise and times up.
@babycharmander look its that idea you had! <3Â
It was nearly dawn and the check in for the Marigold Bridge about to close for another year with only a few stragglers making a quick trip over before sunrise and most people already having returned or just on their way back through to re-entry.
Sarita glanced up from where she had been idly watching people coming back in when someone was approaching her lane and frowned, not him again. Hèctor, she knew his name from his many attempts over the decades and this year was no different, if anything it was worse. He usually tried one or two grand attempts and was either chased off or dragged into a police cell for the night but this year was different, this year he just kept coming back even when they had telephoned for police officers to come arrest him, he managed to keep out running them and rounding back to the check in. She sighed with her arms folded, ready for another one of his attempts, he'd been at this since check in opened at sunset and hadn't left them alone all night. What was he going to try this time? More lies? More costumes pretending to be someone else? And she had thought she'd seen it all when he crashed a van into the gates a few years ago.
Her near glare slid off her face as she watched him come closer, his limp far worse than it had been earlier with his fibular swinging wildly out of place leaving him practically dragging his broken leg behind him with each hard taken step. He was hunched over on himself too, his arms wrapped around his ribs and head hanging low. She caught her co-worker Tulio's attention and nodded towards the intruder but shook her head when he meant to come over, she'd let the man explain himself at least before she set the guards on him again.
“Hèctor.” She greeted when he finally stepped up to her check in.
His head tilted up, his eyes full of pure exhaustion and pain. “Please...” He gasped., his arms clutching a little more around his ribs. “Please just let me go through...”
Her posture lost all hostility and her shoulders sank. “Los siento … but you know the rules, no photo on a Ofrenda no crossing the bridge, it's not even our rules the bridge can't hold you...”
“Please!” He lurched forward a little and she subconsciously took a step back though he seemed to just have trouble balancing on his feet. “I just … I just need to go, just this once, por favor...”
“Hèctor...” Her forehead tightened in worry, concerns over his condition filling her mind, he just didn't look well at all.
“Listen, my girl... I need to see her...” They had heard of 'his girl' before, the others sometimes taking bets on what that exactly was about. “My girl, my daughter... her names Coco Rivera she was just a baby when I died, I promised I would come home to her... it's been … ninety-six years... I have to go home... I promised...”
“I am so sorry... look, I understand, but I don't know what we can do to help, the bridge won't-” She tried to explain again but was cut of by a wave of his arm.
“Just for five minutes? Please? I just need to see her again, even if … even if I never get to talk to her again … I just need to see her... that's all I want … just let me- ahh!” A golden light ricocheted through his frame and like a puppet with its strings slashed he fell to the floor.
“Hèctor?!” She gasped, running around her check in and kneeling at his side, a steadying hand placed on his shoulder while he pulled his knees beneath him to sit up a little.
“Please... let me see her … one last time...” He groaned when another flash took a hold of him and he sank back down.
“Tulio! Freira! Help!” She all but screamed without her eyes ever leaving him, as if that would keep him here while her hands hovered nervously just shy of touching him, frightened it wouldn't only hurt him more. She knew what the golden light meant, everybody did, even if she had never personally seen it before. He was fading away right in front of her, what could she do? Fetch a doctor? Did he have time for her to find one? Was there even doctors for this?
The two gate guards came running, ready to tackle him away from her until they saw his condition. “He's dying!” Sarita cried, her large doe eyes full of fear as she stared up at them for help. They came to stand beside them, glancing uncomfortably between themselves and then down to the skeleton on the ground.
“... Hèctor? … Let's … let's get you inside yeah? Find you somewhere more comfortable than this?” Tulio spoke gently, glancing around for ideas, while the check in was pretty much closed now re-entry was still open and people on the other side of the gates were beginning to stare. They could take him into the stations staff room where they had a beat up old couch, it was at least soft and had more privacy than out here.
He reached out to try to pull the man up as carefully as he could, Freira at his side following his example until Hèctor gave an heartbreaking screech and jolted himself painfully. “No!”
“... Amigo... It's alright... we'll take you somewhere you can rest...” Tulio still tried.
Hèctor snatched a hold of Sarita's blouse, his hand locked in like he was trying to anchor himself to her. “No! Don't take me away! I have to stay, have to get across the bridge!”
“But you can't go across, please Hèctor let us take care of you” Sarita pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I have to cross... I'm out of time... I want to see her...” He gasped with his eyes tight shut and his jaw clenched, his bones sparking with another flash.
The three of them looked at each other before Freira sighed. “I''ll carry him over” She spoke with deep determination.
“What?!” Tulio could only stare at his partner as she knelt down beside Hèctor and Sarita.
“Hèctor? If you just put your arms around me, just like that, I'll help you across alright?” She spoke softly to him while she gathered him up, Sarita helping to wrap the man's arm over her neck while hers held steady around his ribs.
“You can't!” Tulio tried to protect, but made no real move to stop them.
“Why not? We've carried him off the bridge before, maybe we can carry him over?”
“But he's not remembered! He could die!” He voiced his fears, what if the further across the bridge they took him the more he faded away?
“He's dying now! What does it matter?! At least we can try to give him this!” Freira snarled back, she stood with the fading man leaning fully against her side, his cheekbone resting on her shoulder.
Tulio looked at her for a moment before his body sagged a little, his face falling into a defeated sad look. “... Alright, come here amigo, ups-a-daisy.” He pulled Hèctor's other arm over his shoulders, holding him up between the two of them and then they were off out of the check in lines through the gate. Sarita followed nervously, glancing at her station behind them, all three of them were abandoning their posts, they were bound to loose their jobs but still she wanted to help.
“Ahh” Hèctor breathed out a pained breath when his bones flashed again but they kept going, taking no notice of people travelling back towards re-entry looking at them.
“It's okay, just a little longer” Sarita tried to soothe him, trying to make eye contact while his head hung down against his ribs. The marigold petals glowed beneath their feet as they stepped onto the bridge, his dragging through but they held him steady. “Hèctor look! You're going across the bridge!” She couldn't help the watery smile, his head nodded weakly and he hummed.
“We'll get you home” Freira added.
They managed to get to the middle of the bridge, where the arch was the highest, the first glimmers of dawn turning the sky pink, light beginning to streak across the horizon. They wouldn't be able to bring him back, they would only just have enough time to leave him in the Land of the Living and make a run back for the bridge before they were trapped themselves. Hèctor cried out in pain, jerking roughly in their hands and it was a moment of terrifying struggle to not drop him, fearful he would sink right through the petals and down to the bottomless void beneath.
“Whoa! Easy! Easy amigo!” Tulio called as he continued to spasm, they brought him down to rest sitting across them, his head pressed to the guard's chest, his torso in his lap and his legs across Freira's lap, his feet just dipping into the petals.
“It hurts!” Hèctor choked, this time the light not leaving him.
“Hey, hey.” Sarita cooed, tears damping her cheekbones as she carefully took both of his hands in hers. “We did it Hèctor, we made it across.”
His eyes cracked open and blearily gazed around. “... Coco?”
“She'll be here soon” She lied, her throat tight. “She's on her way, you'll get to see her again, you kept your promise.”
He gave a weak barely there smile, his eyes glazed. “My promise?” He echoed, the words seemed to confuse him. “I came home?”
She nodded. “You came home, after all these years finally you did it.”
He hummed appreciatively at that, the smile still in place. “... Hurts...”
“We know... it's okay to let go now if you want, we did it, you're here.” Tulio held him a little tighter, his hand soothing at his shoulder.
“ … I can? ...” He whimpered in agony, the light growing all the brighter.
“If you want, you crossed the bridge and Coco knows how much you love her. You don't have to hold on anymore.” Sarita sobbed, clutching at his hands. “It-It doesn't have to hurt anymore.”
Hèctor tried to focus on her, his eyes near rolling back with the effort to keep them open, he looked at her and gave her one last smile. “... Gracias...” With that his eyes fell shut and the light took over, his bones crumbling away into dust between them.
He knew The Orphanage was there, he’d walked past it every time on his travels to and from Shanty town, he’d seen the children as they played outside but he never went too near. If the children approached him he was kind, he answered their curious questions of his name and what business was he off to and left them with a well meaning smile and wave but if he could he would rather avoid them, children were… painful.
Hora Del Baño - Imelda decides Hèctor is in need of a bath when the Riveras first take him home, nothing but fluff. Give that soft boi some care. AO3
Out of Time - Miguel never travelled to the Land of the Dead, Hèctor spends the whole night desperately trying to cross the bridge. It’s sunrise and times up. AO3
El Viento Bajo Mis Alas - The murals above the gateway to Shantytown had been there for generations, nobody knew who had painted them but whoever it was knew something, something about angel like skeletons with wings.It's a wingfic y'all. AO3
Bone Collectors-Â In the Land of the Dead bones are a very profitable business and nobody really ever cares if some near Forgotten Shantytown residents happen to go missing from time to time. AO3
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He could join his friend out to play to the patrons of the bar though, or any street corner where they could pull in a small crowd, the pair of them playing second hand, or in his case, fourth hand guitars. Their life was fine enough for a while, Ernesto had been like an older brother to him for years and for all his hulking masculinity and friendly jabs he didn't treat him with the same frustrated annoyance the rest of the towns people did.
There was one other person who was just as good to him, Imelda. She didn't look at him with the same wariness the others did like he was a lame horse that needed to be shot and they were trying to figure out if it was kinder to let death have him. She didn't do anything like that, she did something completely different, she glared. She eyed him with the same level of disgust she gave every young man who tried to approach her for a kiss while showing off large muscles and boasting about largeness in other areas as well. He couldn't make any claims of strength, not that he could see it impressing her anyway but he could sing and play his old guitar for her. At first she threw rocks at him but after a few times when she passed where he had set himself up to play in the streets he would change whatever song he had been playing idly to something he had written for her, she paused and listened when she realised he wasn't teasing her.
When they first began courting all of Imelda's friends told her she could do way better than the sickly boy, they agreed he was cute and pleasant enough but he clearly wasn't husband material, how could someone who could barely work provide for her?
She never did like anyone telling her what she could and could not do so she asked him to marry her herself and never felt as at peace when he began to cry tears of joy, at last someone truly wanted him.
Her friends continued their concerns right up to their wedding, she was going to depend on the weakest man in town? Did she really want to have children with him? What if he passed on his inferior genetics? What if he couldn't even perform in bed? After their wedding night she had sauntered back to them and snarled that he could perform just wonderfully, thank you very much, and that he was just as gifted with his hands as his guitar playing would suggest.
She had him assist her when she went around their neighbours and collected their laundry to wash for a bit of desperately needed money, she watched as his knees buckled as he carried a basket that matched her own behind her, his face flushed as he slid down the wall by their front door and hunched down on himself, the basket abandoned on the floor as he trembled.
“I'm sorry, Imelda...” he groaned, his face hidden in his hands.
With a sigh she left her own basket and perched herself beside him and tugged him to rest curled up against her with his face tucked into her neck. “It's alright, mi amor.” She spoke gently, she could already feel the beginning of another fever burning through his skin.
She took him inside and tucked him into bed, watching over him as he shivered in a cold sweat then vomited his lunch into a bucket that never seemed to leave their bedside.
“I'm useless...” he sounded so distraught, his fever glazed eyes locking onto hers as sweat dripped down his brow.
She reached in with a damp cloth, wiping at his face. “You're not useless, you can't help it if you get sick, it doesn't change how much I love you.” It was something she had to tell him frequently, reminding him that she chose to stay because of the way she felt for him, not because she was only looking for someone who could bring home a wage.
“I don't deserve you.” His warm hand groped out from under the sheets to clutch at hers.
“Hush now and just rest, that's all I want, for you to get better.” Her thumb stroked across his knuckles lightly, a worried smile on her lips.
After being rejected from nearly every trade in town he went back to playing in the streets while she continued to wash clothes and even do some light sewing repairs to add a little more to their income. They managed well enough and she was even able to save up to buy him a brand new guitar for his eighteenth birthday.
He never looked so proud, in her opinion, as that first time he sat out in the plaza with his new flashy white guitar and sang for her.
Yet as she grew older he found providing for his girls harder, playing on street corners and at the plaza just wasn't making enough and with Imelda taking care of their daughter while he was out the money she earned was less than before. He turned to his best friend for advice, Ernesto telling him promising fantasies of touring the country, possibly the world. They both knew his music was good and people would pay for it but they just needed a bigger crowd than the tiny community of Santa Cecilia.
He agreed, kissed his wife and daughter goodbye before following Ernesto to the train station.
He spent the next ninety-six years regretting ever leaving.
Summary- Imelda decides Hèctor is in need of a bath when the Riveras first take him home, nothing but fluff.
“Hèctor...” Imelda spoke up as she watched Rosita sharing tea and biscuits with him during the evening.
“Yes?” He asked around a mouthful of food, his large eyes swivelling to hers curiously.
“...You're filthy...” She eyed his ruined clothes that barely held together around his frame, his dusty bones that seemed to have dirt embedded into their surface, his shoeless feet. “You need a bath.”
Rosita was giggling lightly beside him as his eyes widened at her brazen words. He opened his mouth to say something but was stopped when she held up her hand. “Ah, if you're going to be in this house you have to be clean.” His face twisted strangely at her words, a painful longing in his eyes. Dia de Muertos had been the night before and at sunrise they had dragged his exhausted body back to the Rivera residence for the lack of anywhere else they knew to take him, they had taken care of him over the day and they had talked a little, not enough to establish where they would go from here but enough to get some idea of what had happened the night before.
Maybe she would like him around a little bit more, maybe, she thought idly, she would like him to stay.
But if he was staying he needed a bath.
Without argument she had him standing up and herded him out of the kitchen, leaving Rosita with a pleased knowing look in her eyes. “Do you need help to walk?” She asked, frowning at the way his leg swung apart with each uneasy step.
“Nah, it's fine.” He shrugged, following her as she lead him through the hallway.
“Are you sure?”
“It's been like this for years, I'm used to it.” His words had no spite behind them, nor was he trying to dig at her, yet it still hurt no matter how nonchalantly he said it or how cheerfully he smiled at her. She tried to look away as she walked on, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by constantly staring at him but even so she could hear his bones rattling and creaking behind her.
Her head snapped around to see him leaning heavily against the wall and panting, his fibula hanging out at a odd angle away from the rest of his leg. “Hèctor...” She implored gently and reaching out her hand to him. His eyes were tight in pain when they met hers and he watched her cautiously for a moment, considering, before he took her hand and let her pull him against her, dragging his arm over her shoulders while hers found its way around his ribs to hold him up, his lanky frame near draped over her. With a shake of his leg his fibula snapped back into place though he still limped with every awkward step they took together.
When they at last made it to the bath room Imelda sat him down on the edge of the tub, turning the tap on and watching the bath start to fill with steaming water. She glanced back to him, sitting idly picking at the hole in his right trouser leg. “So... I'll just leave you to it...”
His eyes shot up to her “You can stay!” He spoke before his brain caught up with the words leaving his mouth, leaving him looking shocked with himself. “... Ah … if... if you wanted to? But you must have a lot of important things to do! So never mind? ...” She had a feeling if he had still been alive his face would have been bright red with embarrassment. “Forget I said anything! Haha, I'll be just fine, mmhh...” He cut himself off from his ramblings with a groan as he tried to stand, his hands clutching at his ribs.
He clearly hadn't been well all day, after sleeping in late til the afternoon after they had tucked his unconscious form on the couch under a blanket, then through the rest of the evening he had noticeably been not right, weak and swaying on his feet, face tight in discomfort, they knew despite any attempts to shrug off their concerns. “Perhaps I should stay, goodness knows you'll probably drown yourself if I left you alone.” She rolled her eyes in an attempt to ease the situation.
“How would I even...” He started, squinting at her.
She held up a hand to silence him. “Believe me if anyone in the Land of the Dead could find a way, it would be you.” She glanced back at the half full tub. “Did you want bubbles?”
He was back fiddling with his trouser leg, pointedly not looking at her. “Yes please”
After she had poured in some sweet smelling bubble bath and the tub was near overflowing with hot water and fluffy foam she looked back at him to find he was staring uncomfortably at her. “... So.. I'll just turn around, I won't look.” She spoke as she did so, her spine rigid and eyes locked on the wall in front of her while she listened to the sounds of him rustling out of his clothing then stepping into the bath. It was a bit silly perhaps, they had been married, she had seen him naked so many times in intimacy and there was hardly anything left to see anymore, but it helped both of their shaken nerves.
“Ohh, that is so nice...” Hèctor breathed out a sigh, sinking right down into the tub and she couldn't help but smile at his pleased expression. His eyes slipped close and his head rested back against the tub, his ribs rising with each steady breath as if the void between them wasn't full of water. She observed him for a while and couldn't help but wonder, how long had it been since he had last had a bath? Since he had last relaxed? He seemed just as ragged and worn as his clothes. “Imelda, could you...” His voice faded as his eyes slid open, going from distantly glazed to sharp as the current moment came back to him.
“Could I?” She queried, carefully eyeing him as he shifted nervously.
“Umm...” He fumbled then winced when she shot him a demanding look. “... I … I … was going to ask if you would wash my hair? … Sorry, um, my head was somewhere else … way back”
She was about to refuse him, to snap at him that had been too long ago but instead her shoulders sagged a little. “You always did like it when I washed your hair.” She sighed, reaching for a bottle of shampoo and coming to perch herself on the edge of the tub. “You were always such a baby.” Her hands followed old remembered movements, wetting his hair then working the shampoo through his hair, it feeling rougher than she expected.
He gave a happy hum under her hands, his head pressed back into her. She couldn't press her fingers into his scalp like she could before but he still seemed just as appreciative when her bones dragged along his skull, moving down to kneed at his temples lightly. “Gracias, that was wonderful.” He spoke gently after she rinsed his hair clean, giving her a quick fragile smile over his shoulder before his eyes were darting away again, focused on scrubbing out dirt from his carpal bones.
They had placed him on a couch when they had first dragged him in through their door and where he had spent most of the day yet she found herself naturally heading towards her own bedroom.
“I-Imelda?” His voice was so fragile, his eyes darting about near frightened when she took him in and pulled him towards her bed.
“Shhh, just get in the bed.” She murmured, pulling back the sheets and directing him to lay down, curled and somehow small looking despite his ridiculously long body, his exhausted eyes cautiously watching her as she came to sit on the other side of the bed.
“Is this alright? … Shouldn't we … talk or something about all of this?” He yawned even as he spoke.
With a soft smile she tugged the sheets over his shoulders, her fingers brushing his still damp hair away from his face. “We'll talk tomorrow when you're feeling better, just rest now.”
He hummed, his face snuggling further into her soft pillows. “Good night, Imelda.” He breathed, his eyes closed and was asleep almost instantly.
Yes, she thought watching him, maybe she would like him to stay.
He trusted his best friend, it would be alright. Just wait a little longer.
He opened his eyes, weakly peering about, why did Ernesto take his guitar with him? … And he had calmly walked away? But he supposed his friend was just trying to keep a level head, he was strong man he wouldn't let himself panic in a situation where being frightened would make things worse.
He was coming back.
He had to wait.
But it hurt so much...
He pulled his legs in, curling up on himself where he lay on the cold stone road. The first thing he was going to do after he had been seen to by the doctor was go give a very loud and angry complaint to the restaurant they had eaten at that evening, what had he had that felt like it was ripping his stomach apart? Then right after that he was on that first train home, he wanted nothing more of this place, he wanted his Imelda and Coco, he wanted to go home.
How... How long had Ernesto been? It seemed to be taking a long time considering the train station was right there?
It was fine, just wait a bit more. Every things fine.
He whined as the pain only seemed to be getting worse, rolling onto his side and looking towards the station. Please come out, please come soon. It hurts.
There was movement in the corner of his eye and he turned his head towards it with the beginnings of a relieved smile on his lips, until he saw what it was.
… That wasn't his friend.
He felt his blood run cold at the site of a small pack of dogs staring at him, they looked rough, thin and very savage. The leader dog stepped forward, its muzzle in a wet dripping snarl and growling low in its throat. They looked famished.
“No...” he whimpered, trying to shrink back from them, but he didn't have the energy to roll over let alone get up and run. They stalked closer, teeth and eyes shining with bad intentions. “No... no please” his heart fluttered in fear, his chest moving with his quick breath.
The first dog lurched forward with a snarl, the others close behind and he screamed, long and loud when it crushed its teeth down into his left shoulder.
Hit it! Push it off! Go for its eyes! He slapped his right arm up to try to fight it off when the second dog attacked, snatching the arm with its jaws and snapping down by his elbow, he screamed again when he felt bone shatter. The third latched into his thigh, standing across his legs so he couldn't lash out and kick them.
Oh god, oh god he was going to die here. He was going to die here killed by wild dogs, where on earth was Ernesto?!
Please come back! Please!
Save me!
His screams didn't stop, the sounds echoing down the street and rattling in his chest. The first dog unlatched its jaws only to clamp back down in the junction between his shoulder and neck, closer to his throat and it viciously shook its head, wrenching him and blood spilling down his front. Paws pressed down on his body, their claws shredding into his flesh and teeth crushing bones.
There was a barking, a growl then the first dog was being ripped away from him, its teeth tearing as it was yanked back. The two other dogs moved to help the leader, turning away from him as the three of them growled at the intruder. A little hairless scrappy thing was snarling at the pack, standing its ground against the bigger animals.
He could do nothing but listen to the sounds of a dog fight, snarls and yelps of pain, teeth and claws sinking into warm flesh and bones. That stupid little dog, poor thing didn't know what it was getting itself into.
He blearily peered out, his eyelids heavy to see that little dog on top of the leader ripping its throat out and with one last savage jerk of its head the larger dog squealed one last time and went still. The other two dogs looked at the winner when it turned to them, their leaders blood slathered across its face before they retreated and ran off together down the street.
Once they were gone all the aggression disappeared from the dogs body, hunching down into itself and it looked at him, limping over past the dead leader and whimpering. A cold bloodied nose touched his cheek and a long tongue licked apologetically.
The little dog came trotting up to him with a wagging tail and a silly floppy tongue. It's name was Dante now, as his beloved great-great grandson Miguel had named it, and its body was a beautiful mosaic of bright eye catching colours, just like any other proud Alebrije.
He knew The Orphanage was there, he’d walked past it every time on his travels to and from Shanty town, he’d seen the children as they played outside but he never went too near. If the children approached him he was kind, he answered their curious questions of his name and what business was he off to and left them with a well meaning smile and wave but if he could he would rather avoid them, children were… painful.
He sighed as he rolled his neck that seemed to becoming annoyingly stiff recently, ten years in Shantytown and he could already feel something unpleasant creeping into his bones, it would only go downhill from here, Chich had laughed wetly at him with a grin and a slap on the back. His fingers ratted against the bottle of tequila in his grip, ready to go find Chich and some others to get a head start on the evenings drinking, that was at least his plan until he heard a little shriek and something clattering to the ground.
A young woman was wrestling to keep a grip on her armful of baskets, one already on the ground and its contents scattered at her feet.
He jogged up to her and caught one of the baskets off her arm before it had a chance to spill itself out “Here, let me help” he was already crouching and gathering up apples, oranges and little packages in brown paper and replacing them in the fallen basket. When between them they had gathered everything up he beamed at her “I wouldn’t mind carrying some of these for you, if you would like company”
Large doe eyes watched him curiously, swirls of violet and silver across her cheekbones and forehead that caught the light, loose curls framing her face shifting in the gentle breeze and the rest of her long hair braided down her back “Gracias, that would be very kind of you señor…” she trailed off.
“Si, the children at The Orphanage, it was all I heard the other day when some of them had seen you leaping from the walkway, honestly you are going to break something behaving like that!”
“Ah well I’m tougher than I look!”
“For your sake I hope so” she smiled, then she seemed to remember herself “Oh I am Lareina Suarez” she spoke with a nod of her head. “The Orphanage is this way if you still didn’t mind assisting me” When she bent down to gather up the baskets her burgundy dress drooped loosely around her ribcage in a way that would have revealed her cleavage when she was alive, now it only gaped and hung off her so she had belted it with a ribbon tied around her spine
“Ah, no problem” he picked up two of the baskets and followed her as she turned with her own luggage and walked onwards, her heeled boots thudding lightly on the old rotten boards of the walkway and her long skirts swishing with her movements.
The Orphanage was just as ram shackled and run down as any other building here, it was a large wooden structure with uneven walls and levels placed with an haphazardness that showed they had to just keep adding to it over time with no real plan when the need called for it. Lareina turned from the main path up the steps towards the front door, struggling for a moment with her baskets before pushing it open and leading them inside.
And of course there were children, the nearest group looking up as soon as they heard the door “Tia Lareina!” a chorus of voices squealed, little skeletons dashing into swarm around them, chattering excitedly.
“Ay ay! Careful there!” he couldn’t help but laugh as little hands latched onto him, one child clinging onto his leg stubbornly.
“Tickle him!” One little voice called out, an excited boy who only reached his elbow standing and wore a cheeky grin.
“Oh no! Not tickles!” he shrieked playfully, although he was nearly being unbalanced over “Here! Take it!” the basket was passed down into their horde with a cheer the boy snatched it and ran off.
“Flavio! Remember to share!” Lareina called after him, the little boy instead of running off with his stolen goods as presumed was going around the entire room handing out his spoils with his friends.
A few of the children stayed by their side, knowing they would get eventually, still crowding around the new visitor and jostling each other to get closer to him. A little toddler clinging to his trouser leg was knocked off balance and landed with a thump on her back side, her jaw wobbling in distress as tears filled her eyes and began to cry.
Oh god, she was exactly the same size his Coco had been when he left her, he tried to push that thought away as he stroked away her tears with his thumb. “There now that’s better, I can see your pretty face” Large eyes turned up to look at him while tiny finger bones curled around one of his suspenders, her trembling lip turning into something more of a smile.
“It seems you have made an amigo, she usually doesn’t take to strangers so well” Lareina grinned at him, her arm loosely around a little girl’s shoulders in a hug.
“Well I am exceedingly charming” he waggled his brows at her, making her giggle and the baby girl in his arms show a smile. “See! She likes me!” he began making faces at her until she was laughing, he had missed the sound of a infants laughter so much. “What’s her name?” he asked, in between silly expressions.
“Chico” If he had a heart it would have stopped in his chest, the name far too similar to his daughter’s for comfort. This wasn’t Coco, a frown sliding into place and he meant to pass the child to Lareina but she was still holding onto his suspenders with a fierce grip and wasn’t interested in letting go anytime soon when she was investigating his face, tiny fingers tracing the markings across his cheekbone.
He had stayed far later than he had planned to, Chich moaning at him when he finally made it back.
He tried to not think too much of his trip to the Orphanage, of the children and little Chico until two days later when he was once again walking home, the hour late in the night with only the faint sounds of his Cousins in their dwellings coming through the fog around him, until he heard sobbing.
Lareina was sat alone on the edge of the walkway, her legs dangling over the water as she held her head in her hands and wept.
“… What’s the matter?” he asked gently, approaching her as if she were some injured animal that would either bolt or attack at any sharp movement.
He floundered for a moment before his hand came to cautiously cradle the back of her skull and his other arm wrapped around her back, holding her tight. He found himself forcing back more questions, was it Chico? A cold fear took over him, please not Chico.
“Flavio faded away…” she sobbed into his collar bone. He paused in thought, trying to remember the playful and cheeky boy he had seen only a few days ago, he hadn’t looked so bad? He hadn’t looked like he was being forgotten? Or at least he hadn’t noticed it.
Her head jerked in a harsh nod “It’s more than what his rotten familia ever did for him, his papa killed him, bastardo beat him in a drunken rage but that boy never had a bad bone in his entire body! He was so sweet and kind”
His contented smile slipped off his face, panic taking over “Ah no no no, that’s alright, gracias, I should be leaving now anyway”
“Don’t argue, your staying” Ester fixed him with something of a glare over her shoulder. “You’ve been so helpful and you’re always here you might as well consider yourself part of our familia”
“But! … I” he fumbled, staring at his feet. Emilo glanced up at him as he sat himself down, sighed dramatically with a roll of his eyes and snatched a hold of his arm, dragging him down beside him, making his yelp.
“You’re one of us now amigo” the other man cackled before leaning in and whispering, near conspiratorially “She’s adopted you, it’s what she does best”
Lareina pushed a wooden high chair in at his other side and placed Chico in it before squeezing herself in at the table. “Don’t worry we manage, so there isn’t a lot to spare? Who cares, whatever we have we share” she carefully filled Chico’s little bowl with food she would be able to manage herself and fixed him with a smile “Besides, Chico loves you so there is no way we’re letting you and your baby wrangling talents leave”
He smiled weakly back at her, his mind working overtime. These people knew nothing about him, they had only met him a few days ago and yet they were ready to welcome him in with open arms? Into their familia? … His familia? It was different from the other Shantytown residents, they were outright asking him to stay with them, they wanted him. His smile grew a little more, it was a lovely thing indeed, he decided, to have a familia that wanted him again.
“Boys! Hats off at the table!” Ester growled, smacking both him and Emilo in the back of the head on her way to her own seat.
“Hola Tio Hector!” two little girls chimed together, looking up from where they sat on the floor with paper and crayons scattered about them as he opened the door one morning, carrying in a basket of groceries with him.
“There’s my girls!” he grinned, making his way over and ruffling both of their heads. “Hey, what’s all this?”
“We’re drawing Mariachi princesses!” one beamed at him, the other nodding in agreement.
“Of course! I won’t let them get into any mischief!”
“It’s more you than them I should be worried about” she teased with a brow raised to which he pouted. They both knew he wasn’t being left completely on his own, there was other adults in the building, other Shantytown residents that volunteered their time to look after the children. Ester sat in the corner reading to a collection of little ones gathered around her and Emilo was somewhere upstairs.
One of the girls, Maria, gave a gasp and her eyes widened at her mistake “Oh no! How will the princess play without strings!” she quickly scribbled lines across the guitar she had drawn to fix it.
“… Not another one this small…” Ester’s voice was pained, her withered shoulders slumping.
Lareina nodded, her eyes transfixed on the little one, “The department didn’t know what else to do with him, the other places don’t have room” she growled out near absent mindedly, there where other Orphanages in the Land of the Dead, their one was for forgotten children in particular, the others in the upper city was where remembered children were housed until a family member was either found, or arrived on their death. “They said his mother may cross over soon”
“I see” Ester murmured softly “Perhaps I should take him, mija” she held out her yellowed hands for the child only for Lareina to twist away, her grip tightening.
“No! I want him”
“Lareina” Ester sighed, almost in a warning.
“It’s fine I can look after him” she growled back, something of a demand in her voice. The tiny bundle in her arms wiggled with a clenched fist stretching out as the baby began to cry, her eyes went instantly down to him, her voice gentling as she tried to hush him.
“Ah!” Emilo staggered forward and caught himself against a damp infested wall, breathing out in harsh gasps, his loosely held together bones rattling against themselves.
“She’s in one of her tempers” Emilo breathed heavily, his hand tugging at his shirts collar as if it was choking him though it hung loose around his neck vertebrae.
“So I can lay down and die?” Emilo made a disgusted face “No thank you, did that once, it wasn’t a good experience” he grinned a little despite himself even as another flash of gold went through his bones. “Ugh” he slid down against the wall he had propped himself against to curl up on the bed. “… Ay, mija you ever gonna stop crying?” he glanced up and prodded a finger against Chico’s foot, she still wouldn’t look at them.
Emilo shrugged one loose shoulder “Eh, it’s fine, she’s a good kid, I had a sister like her, bit distant too” he let out a groan of pain “… She forgot me first, couldn’t remember, I was gone from her mind after she hadn’t seen me for a few months… rest of mi familia never forgave me for running off to fight in the war” he spoke quietly, his eyes some place far away.
“He’s gone, mija…” He pulled her close while she swung her head to and fro.
“He’s gone?!” Lareina had cried when he returned to them downstairs, sitting at the kitchen table with her new charge sound asleep in her arms, Ester staring at him where she had been cooking lunch. “But … but he never said anything…”
“We tell them he had to leave, that he loves them but nothing else” Ester glanced around at them with command in her withered old voice “It happens to everyone, it will come for all of us, but we must move on for now”
Lareina shook her head “Not myself, we’ve sent back a few before though…” her eyes were still fixated on the baby in her arms, a little basket of essential items they had scraped together for him by her feet. “I wanted her to live… I wanted her to stay in the Land of the Living so I could keep him…” her thumb rubbed gently at his cheekbone.
At the Departments offices they were guided to a small private room and advised it would take a moment to bring down the mother. Lareina sighed, finally lifting her eyes up and gazing at her friend “Did you want to say goodbye?” she asked, nodding down at the baby.
“I’m good, if you wanted…”
“por favor… it will be easier to give him to you than her” she pleaded, a pained look in her large eyes to which he nodded and held out his arms. She pressed a kiss to the sleeping babies forehead and passed him over, he held the little one until the door opened and a young woman was lead in by two department workers.
She couldn’t have been any older than mid twenties and she stared about at them with all the discomfort of the newly dead until her eyes homed in on the bundle in his arms. “… Is that…?” she trailed off, unable to finish the question.
He offered the baby when she came close enough, her eyes locked on the little one when he pressed him into her waiting arms. “I’m… I’m so sorry … I didn’t mean …” she began to cry, her shoulders shaking “I should have tried harder! … I should have been stronger… I…” she sobbed, clutching her baby to her, her head lowered to touch her lips to his unfused skull.
“I was going to buy you more…” she hiccuped, passing the bottle to him so he could take a swig.
He passed the bottle back then wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in “Come here” he cooed, resting his chin on top of her skull. “What’s wrong? Today was a good day, we didn’t loose anyone else, we reunited a baby with his mother”
“Didn’t want to give him back…” she sniffled, rubbing at her face.
“I know…” he sighed, rubbing a hand against her shoulder blades. “But you did it and it was the good thing to do” he took the bottle back and awkwardly took another mouthful while still holding her. The lights of the upper city sparkling above them like stars, he found himself entranced for a long moment, peacefully just watching it all over head while she stayed in his arms. “Lareina…” he spoke after a while, stirring her, “Why do you stay here?” he asked, his suspicions of what her story may be, in the Land of the Dead everyone had one, people in Shantytown tended to have sadder ones to tell.
She pulled away from him, prising the bottle from his grasp and downing quite a bit before her eyes found his “I was going to be a mother, I wanted it so badly, something went wrong with the birth and I ended up dead, I was told my child lived, he’s not here”
“Mother without a child to take care of, eh? So you found some” it made sense he thought, the way she was always so protective over the children, how badly she wanted to keep the baby.
“Si, most people, the ones up there” she jerked her thumb up in the general direction of the upper city “They don’t want them, its worse with the kids, people don’t want to adopt in a little one to their home and deal with the heart ache when they fade, these kids have nothing, no familia, no memories, just us down here”
“And that’s not a lot”
“So there you go, I died trying to push out a baby, we’re in two separate worlds and nobody remembers me” she gave out a bitter laugh, tears of anger glistening in her eyes.
“And your sons father?” he was almost sorry to ask, but she was a good enough person? Why would her husband not honour her memory?
She shrugged “He was whoever had paid me for my time” she replied near carelessly, until she sent him a pointed warning look “Is there a problem with that?” she asked coldly, when he was staring at her.
“Oh!… Um I just…” he fumbled, glancing away, he knew his cheeks would have been bright red if he still had flesh. She had been a lady of the night, a prostitute.
“People do not remember whores” Lareina snarled out, mostly towards herself before downing more alcohol. Her large doe eyes stared knowingly at him “So, why do you stay? You love the children, did you have any? Or little hermanos and hermanas? You’re noticeably good with them”
“I have a daughter, her names Coco” he breathed out, almost like he was telling a secret. “She was the same age as Chico when I died … um I got sick, food poisoning I think when I was out of town… she probably doesn’t know what happened to me…”
“I’m sorry” Lareina spoke gently, her anger gone as she listened to his words then passing the bottle back to him. He took a swig then placed it down, his eyes flickering up to the city lights again, he nearly jumped when her hand moved to cup his face and suddenly she was leaning in and kissing him.
It wasn’t that it was unpleasant, despite the smell of tequila on her breath and she was beautiful enough but the only person he had ever kissed in his entire life and death had been Imelda and he wanted to keep it that way. He pulled away and held her at arms length before she could move in again “I’m married” he smiled apologetically which made her pout, instead he leaned back in and kissed her forehead. “Besides your drunk”
“Fight me” she whined, though she still dipped her head into his affection, her hands curling into his tattered jacket.
“That wouldn’t be a fair fight! I’d win!” he chuckled.
“You’ve obviously never seen a prostituta in a bar fight” she grinned, rocking forward to slump against him. He choked back a stunned sound and burst into laughter when she tilted her head up to look at him. “Ay ay! You laugh now but I could have slit your throat back when I was alive!” she giggled which only made him laugh harder. They were left breathless from too much laughter, holding onto each other and snorting back giggles like drunken teenagers.
“Right I’m here, I’ve got the paint, is that all you wanted?” Chich grumbled as he came through the door, pots of paint and brushes in his arms “It better be, cause I’m telling you this was already hard enough, that’s me done for the day” he piled the items up on the floor.
Chich suddenly found himself with an armful of toddler “What is this? If you’re here more than five seconds you get handed a kid?” he grumbled, although he held her carefully.
“Good, if nothing else the lacquer we’ve already painted on should keep the rot out for a little while longer but since we’ve already committed we might as well make it look a little nicer in here” Ester rasped.
Lareina at her side held a collection of papers in her hands “The children have also given suggestions for the wall, Maria is especially keen on mariachi princesses” she paused, looking over one drawing in particular “We also thought it would be nice if we could get a little of everybody’s face markings too on there, perhaps a border along in patterns”
“How long do I have to hold this kid? Chich was grumbling as Chico was trying to rock herself out his grip while whining.
Raul nodded “Yeah, she is like a million years old” he swung his legs back and forth over the edge of the seat idly.
“You better not tell her that” he smirked down at the child.
“Wanna know how I died?” the boy continued without giving a real chance for a reply “I fell down a well. It was scary and dark and I was down there for a long while, but that’s okay now, though I still don’t like the dark, but Mama Ester lights a candle by my bed every night so its not dark” he pulled the string off his fingers, working on a new tangle “Tio Jose, who lives down the street, he got hit by a train, that’s a silly way to die, you’d think he’d notice a big old train coming”
“I suppose we should have everyone join in” she spoke, wiping the stained handkerchief over her hand, trying to get paint out between her bones before it dried.
“Chico won’t go in, so maybe if you’re in there she won’t be too upset” He nodded with a shrug at her words, knowing she was right and promptly stripped himself of his tattered jacket, stepping into the tub and sliding himself in, the water pleasantly warm. “You must be careful she doesn’t like her face getting wet” Lareina spoke softly in warning as she handled over the child who went calmly when she was placed on his lap and she sat only a few inches deep. “She drowned” she continued when he looked up at her with the unasked question, why?
“… I don’t think so” she handed him a wash cloth and a bar of soap.
He had noticed little Chico was different from the other children, from his own daughter. She was always so lost in her own little world, unwilling, or perhaps unable to fully communicate with them, she preferred wails and grunts to actual spoken language, she had no interest in the other children near her age, she barely responded when she was talked to, or even when her name was called. But no matter how trying her unusual behaviours might be, how frustrating it may have been to have a child that hardly acknowledged the world around her, surely her parents wouldn’t have outright harmed her?
“I think she was thrown into a river”
Chico had focused in on his face, her little hands patting at his jaw and fingers moving to trace around his mouth.
She visibly strained for a moment, her tear filled eyes turning up to him “Tio Hector! I can’t!”
“I believe you can, keep trying!” he pulled her ribcage to lean against his leg then snatched up the smaller neck vertebrae he could see nearby, holding them in place until they clicked back in line, next went her skull and he was holding her up as the rest of her bones snapped back in under her dress.
She stood up with his help, her completed feet sliding into place like a pair of shoes. “Gracias, Tio Hector!” she turned around and hugged him tightly.
He wrapped his arms around her, curling his tall frame around her with fear in his eyes. Her bones were getting looser, he knew what that meant. It wouldn’t be long for her now.
The day Ester faded she had gone to the upper city to the market place, always so busy with taking care of everybody until her last breath. She never returned from her errands and they never saw her again, it was only when a police officer was standing on their doorstep with her basket in his hands later that evening they knew.
She didn’t pass quickly, whoever had known her in life, whoever remembered her cared enough to try to hold onto her. Someone was trying to not let her be forgotten. She stayed for hours passed between their arms, both of them trying to soothe her with words and songs while they cried.
The infant couldn’t understand the world around her, she didn’t know what was happening beyond that it hurt and she was frightened. She screamed for hours.
“It’s alright mija, I’m here” he choked back on his sobs, his hand moving to cup her glowing cheek. With a final whimper her eyes went distant again then she was nothing but dust.
That night he had slid himself in Lareina’s bed with her, unable to sleep in his own room without Chico’s soft breaths and her cot laid empty.
As hard as it was, they had to keep going. They had a house full of children to take care of, though other Shantytown residents would visit daily to spend time with the little ones, Chich always easy to talk into a round of babysitting but it wasn’t the same as when they had been a familia in the building.
———————————————————-
Years past, children past and more always were being sent down to them from the upper city.
“His name is Abel” one of the department officers told them, leading in a new little one through their door, a little boy who was only five years old. “He died when he walked out into a road and a car hit him”
The man handed the folder of the child’s details to Lareina who looked at the boy and then to the officer with a disgusted look “Walked out into the road? Why wasn’t anyone watching him?!”
“He was in the foster system apparently, I guess he was placed in a home with people who didn’t care enough” the officer could only guess with a shrug, a pitying look in his eyes.
The boy shook his head, a knowing look in his eye “Papa” he reaffirmed with a confident nod “Papa” he pointed with a tiny finger to the man in front of him and turned to Lareina “Mama”
Lareina only shrugged at him with a grin, pulling Abel in between them for a cuddle.
A few more decades past, none of the children that joined them at the table for meals were the same as the ones he had first met, still Lareina sat beside him even though her bones were rickety and yellowed.
“You’ll take care of them? Take care of yourself?” she asked, her doe eyes flicking up to meet his.
“Of course, you know I will” he held her while she trembled.
“Good… I wanted to see my baby again… I wanted to tell him how much his mama always loved him” her eyes were distant, looking up in wonder at the lights above. “I hope… I hope you get to see your girl, your Coco” another glow through her old bones and she looked back at him when he sobbed. “… Don’t let it make you cry…” she sang gently, her hand coming up to touch his damp cheekbone and he blinked in shock, eyes wide. He shouldn’t be shocked she knew his song, he supposed, how many nights over the years had she overheard him singing it at his daughter’s bedtime?
“F-For even if I’m far away I hold you my heart… I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart” his voice was unsteady but the melody came naturally, both painful and soothing.
“Remember me… though I have to travel far… remember me… each time… you hear a sad guitar…” she continued on weakly.
“Know that I’m with you the only way that I can be… until you’re in my arms again, remember me” her voice trailed away into sighs and hums while he finished the song and held her. Her bones glowing at a steady pace now making her whine in pain and it struck him, not for the first time, just how young she had been when she died, a mere nineteen years old, the same age as his Imelda when she had given birth to their daughter. She had told him once she was one of the older girls in her trade.
She gave one last sigh full of pure exhaustion then the light claimed her, disappearing on the nights breeze, leaving him alone.
Afterwards he left the Orphanage to others to run, he visited the children often enough, bringing them treats and presents each time he walked in but as soon as he had rounded up enough volunteers to stay put there he was out back into the depths of Shantytown. He just couldn’t live there anymore, the old building seemed to be full of ghosts of his friends, how many times had he walked into the kitchen in the mornings to prepare the little ones breakfast expecting to be greeted by Ester and Emilo laughing together, the old lady nagging them to take off their hats at the table. How many times had he climbed up to the roof wishing that Lareina was there to talk and sing the night away with, how many times he had turned around expecting to see little Chico holding up her arms to him, demanding his cuddles.
He couldn’t stay there without his found familia. He couldn’t.
He sucked in a deep, steadying breath as he approached the Marigold Bridge entrance check in, dressed in a Frida Kahlo outfit borrowed from a friend, this was his ninety-sixth attempt at getting across and he knew this was far from his greatest plan but it was all he had left, he had to make it this year or he never would. His time was up, his Coco was forgetting him. He had to see her, he had promised her, promised himself, promised Lareina.
Coco had spent long enough waiting for her Papa to come home, he had to make it this year, this was his last chance.
Plumette was unknowingly pregnant with her and Lumiere’s child before the curse was placed, now that it’s broken her body has been restored, yet still carrying a child that died years ago.
Warnings: Miscarriage, infant death
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Plumette woke up shivering, mumbled words already falling from her lips with confusion. The light burned at her eyes when she tried to open them and her stomach felt like it was twisting itself to pieces. She began retching, painful heaves tearing at her throat and tears already beginning to run down her face.
“Easy lovey! Easy” she distantly heard who she suspected to be Mrs Potts soothing and a hand was brushing back her hair away from her face.
She was cold, more than cold freezing like she had decided to go swimming in the frozen lake in only her undergarments. She hacked out one last wet cough before she could get her breath back, sniffling as she managed to prise her eyes open and squint out. “'Mmissis 'otts?”
“It's alright sweetheart, it's alright, we're here” she could see the housekeepers flustered face looking down at her.
“Hurts” she managed to croak out with a dry mouth.
A hand pressed at her forehead. “She's boiling hot”
“I know Lumière” Mrs Potts growled back in frustration.
Lumière.
Plumette turned her head and found him at her side leaning over the bed, he looked upset. “...Lumi?... what's happening?” she asked, swallowing against the taste of acid in her mouth and nudging her hand towards him.
He laced his fingers with hers, his eyes full of worry “Cherie you have a fever” he explained gently.
She whined out as Mrs Potts dabbed a damp cloth across her forehead and down along her neck, the chill of the water unpleasant against her already frozen skin. “Cold”
“We need to cool you down, poppet” Mrs Potts soothed, pressing the cloth to the hollow of her throat.
She attempted to shake her head and nudged away the cloth with the hand that wasn't trembling in her beloveds hold. “No, too cold” her teeth rattled as she shivered hard.
“Darling you're not cold, you are sweltering with heat” Lumière worried, once again pressing his hand to her face and feeling the warmth radiating from her flushed cheek as sweat dripped along her temple. Plumette frowned, wanting to argue with him because she felt absolutely frozen down to the bone but she glanced hazily away from him when the door opened.
Belle came in out of breath as if she had run all the way here from the ground floor with Adam, Chapeau and Cogsworth at her heels. “The doctor is here” she gasped.
Plumette grumbled, turning back to Lumière wanting to glare at him for inviting another doctor in but couldn't really find it in herself when she saw again how distressed he looked. “Don't want doctors...” she whined out to anyone who would listen.
Belle came to her side to stand with Lumière, a soft smile on her face “Plumette? Monsieur Robert is the father of a dear friend of mine, he has travelled a long way to come see you”
Plumette puffed out a sigh as two new men came in, she was sure she had seen the younger gentleman in the village before but was too tired to remember where exactly, the elder stepped forward nodding to Lumière and patting him on the shoulder before he turned to her.
He had a kind face with soft eyes and smiled at her in a way that made her long for her own father, even though he had died years ago during the plague “Bonjour Miss, I am told you are not feeling very well”
She nodded “Hurts”
“Would you allow me to try to help?”
She nodded again after a moments consideration, peering at Lumière for support who did his best to smile back at her, his hand tightening around hers. She looked from him to the doctor and back again “Thirsty” Lumière nodded stiffly as he poured out a cup from the pitcher that sat beside him on the table, with a practised ease he slid his arm beneath her shoulders and lifted her enough so she could take a few sips.
“Has she been asking for water often?” Monsieur Robert asked Mrs Potts as he watched.
“She's been drinkin' a few times tonight but she ain't holdin' much of it down” the housekeeper sighed in reply.
“I see, when was the last time she ate anything?”
“Must of been about two days ago now, we keep tryin' but she just keeps bringin' it back up, only been gettin' water and tea in her now”
Lumière held her for a moment longer once she had emptied the cup and pressed a kiss to her forehead before he set her back down into the soft pillows. He made sure to bundle her up with the thick bedsheets and blankets as she continued to shiver. “She says she's cold but she feels warm” he mentioned, gazing at the doctor.
The man nodded “Quite often a fever can play tricks on a person and tell them they are cold when they are not” he folded his arms. “And you spoke of bleeding?”
“Oui, she's been bleeding out since she had our baby... cherie may I show him?” Lumière broke off to ask for her consent, but she had merely closed her eyes and it wasn't very clear if she was awake until she jerked her head in a nod, knowing the more they answered questions the sooner he would either help or leave her alone. Even so she whined when Lumière took the bed covers away, leaving her shivering against the mattress “Cold!” she yelped.
Monsieur Robert frowned at the sight of blood staining her chemise and thick patches across the bed where she had laid. “And it has been this heavy for the past few days?” he asked, taking a moment to observe the swelling of her abdomen he had already been told about and then assisting Lumière in tucking her back into bed, his hand idly pressing to her forehead to feel her fever for himself.
“Yes but we can't seem to find out where its comin' from, the other doctor was rather insistent she wasn't hurt anywhere, though he was a fool if you ask me” Mrs Potts sighed wearily.
“Quite, one does not bleed this much for no reason but I fear it does seem to be an internal problem that we do not know of” Monsieur Robert spoke softly, his fingers having gone from feeling Plumette's hot and clammy skin to idly stroking through her fringe while his other hand had taken a hold of her wrist and frowning at a pulse that was too fast and weak. “Best thing we can do is try to break this fever” he was quiet for a moment while he considered things and looked up at Lumière with something that looked an awful lot like pity. “Lumière, my good sir, may I have a word in private?”
“Ah, of course” he nodded and turned back towards Plumette “I will be back in a moment, mon amour” he kissed her forehead then was out following the doctor and with that the room was cleared all but for her and Mrs Potts who took the stool beside the bed, fidgeting anxiously.
Plumette peered at her over her pillows before she reached out a trembling hand and caught hold of the housekeepers, trying to give her a reassuring squeeze but failing. “Are you alright?”
Mrs Potts gave her a fragile smile “Bless your heart, here you are sweatin' out a river an' you're askin' if I'm alright” she took up the damp cloth again from where it had been abandoned on the side and wiped at her dripping brow. “My poor baby”
“Mmh, baby?” the girl peered up at her with a weak interest, flinching as the cloth wiped along her cheekbone.
“You've always been my baby, from the first time you stepped foot in this castle”
She hummed in thought and then her face tightened in pain, her fingers locked stiff in her blanket “Feel sick”
“Need the bucket?” Mrs Potts asked, already snatching it up without a reply and dragging the girl to sit up with her arms around her, supporting her as she brought up the little precious water she had drunk with a few hiccuped chokes. Disposing of the bucket to the side she sat cradling the girl as she shivered and whimpered.
“Thirsty” she gasped out through an acid burnt throat, her stomach clenched painfully.
Mrs Potts took in a sharp breath, her voice wobbling “In a bit sweetheart, you can't keep it down at the moment”
Plumette began to cry at her words, thick tears dripped down her sweat slicked face while Mrs Potts held her to her chest, trying to wipe her tears with a dry handkerchief. The door opened with Lumière alone returning, walking stiffly back to the bed where he sat himself beside the pair of them.
“She's been sick again” Mrs Potts offered as way of explanation while he merely nodded, his throat trying to work around a lump and his eyes shining wetly. Plumette sniffled when he reached out to rub at her shoulder and her fever glazed eyes locked onto him, whining for him until they passed her between their arms and her head fell to rest against his shoulder.
“Darling...” he sighed as held her, his fingers brushing through her drenched curls.
“Thirsty” she mumbled, her fingers trying to find a grip on his shirt. He nodded for Mrs Potts to pour out another cup and pass it to him, she sat with her hands locked into her skirts and her eyes downturned, not wanting to see the relief on the girl's face when she knew she would only be sick again. Lumière helped her drink in small sips until she began to retch without the cup even leaving her lips and she coughed out a mouthful down her chest.
“Did she keep any of that down?” Mrs Potts mourned, taking the cup while he dabbed his handkerchief to the wet spot of her chemise and she sniffled miserably.
“I believe so, perhaps a sip” he spoke gently, his hand soothing up and down her back. She shifted to peer up at him, eyes bright with fever trying to focus to look at him, to really look. She had seen that expression on his face before, only last time it had been in bronze and not flesh when Adam had told them he had let Belle go.
When he had realised they were going to die.
The thought slipped from her mind as she shivered harder and a whimper escaped past her lips, she leaned back in to tuck her head under his chin, breathing in his familiar scent while he pulled a blanket around her. Her eyes slipped closed in exhaustion but sleep was completely impossible, she felt too nauseous, too cold and everything seemed to hurt from a pounding migraine to her aching joints.
There was movement in the room with people coming in and out and shifting things, the sound of an large item placed down on the floor and something else being smashed with a hammer. She whimpered and curled more into Lumière, wishing the noises would go away.
“It's all ready” Monsieur Robert announced from where he watched Chapeau pouring in the last bucket of water into the bathtub they had dragged into the room and Cogsworth adding another handful of smashed ice from the block they had taken from the cellar, the chunks sinking down to the bottom. “Ideally I wouldn't suggest a bath this cold but we need her temperature down now... this will not be pleasant”
Plumette whined when Lumière started to move her “Chapeau take her legs” he called and she tried to pull away as Chapeau was standing in front of her and his hands had firmly gripped around the back of her bare knees while Lumière's arms wrapped under hers and around her chest, the pair of them working together to carry her. She had a brief flicker of a memory from when they had been teenagers, the boys holding her like this only to throw her in the lake. She tried to wiggle out of their hands but she barely had the energy to lift her chin from where it dropped against her chest, moaning uselessly as they brought her over to the tub. Her eyes snapped open when Chapeau gently eased her legs then frantically trying to escape when Lumière lowered her down into the water.
She screamed shrilly, fighting them with a strength she didn't know she had until multiple hands pinned her down, pressing her back into the water forcefully and Lumière had wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hunched over her against the side of the tub. When she found she had no way of escaping against them she gave up and wailed while they tried to calm her.
“Lumi... too cold” she panted through her tears with her fingers clutching weakly at his wrist.
“I know my darling, I'm sorry” Lumière whispered back, tilting her to use his arm to rest her head on.
“Please, it hurts” she peered up and caught his eyes.
“I'm afraid it has to be done your fever is too high” he spoke quietly close to her ear so only she could hear “You are very sick but my dear Plumette you are stronger than this, I am right here with you and I have faith you can beat this”
It didn't take long for her to fall quiet with all the fight gone from her body, slumped against Lumière and her head rolling back against his arm holding her neck just out of the water. Giving gentle sighs and an occasional hiccuped sob. The others had removed their hands and backed away when she stopped struggling and she laid in the chilled water shivering, barely awake.
A hand checked her forehead “That'll have to be enough, we can't let her freeze” with that she was being hauled out, waterfalls streaming from her soaked chemise and she gave out a few groans when she was handled too roughly across the room. Someone was tugging her clothing off her but she didn't have the energy to care and could only trust that they would take care of her and whoever it was would try to preserve whatever dignity she had left. Soon she was in a dry fresh chemise and being tucked into the warm bed that felt so wonderful against her chilled skin.
She had odd dreams when she was asleep, not particularly bad ones merely odd, she dreamed of being a feather duster again but it was so familiar that it wasn't frightening, she had senses of Marietta amongst the light and shadows and she paid it no mind, busily dusting away.
Plumette sighed as her eyelashes fluttered opened to the early dawn light, clarity returning with the absence of the fevered haze. Rolling her head she found Lumière still at her side, sitting stiffly watching her with sad eyes and she blinked as she focused on him, he didn't merely look upset his face was flushed and his eyes red rimmed and glistening, he had been crying.
“Mon amour” she breathed nudging her hand towards him, reaching for him. She tried to sit up to cross the distance more but quickly realised that was a mistake when she gave a hiss of pain and fell back into the pillows.
“Cherie” he fussed leaning over her, his hand naturally slipping into hers and his other stroking at her cheek. She drank water when he offered, holding the cup to her mouth while she took in a few desperate sips. “Are you hungry at all?” he asked, she shook her head. “Is there anything you need? We will fetch more tea for you” with that he reached away to where a rope hung beside the beds post along the way that she knew was connected to one of the service bells down in the kitchen and pulled at it. He returned to caressing her face. “You look a little brighter today” he smiled softly yet he still looked upset.
She narrowed her eyes at him, studying him before the question she wanted to ask slipped from her lips “What did the doctor tell you last night?”
His eyes widened, looking frightened “Cherie?”
Memories slid to the front of her mind, the growing concern in their eyes as they had tended to her the past few days, the fear when he or Mrs Potts had seen more blood on her clothes or bedding, the frustration when she couldn't keep anything she swallowed down long enough for it to do any good, all pieces of the bigger puzzle.
And Angelique's own hissed out words 'She looks like she won't be long out of the grave herself'
Was it really at that stage?
“How bad is it? Do not lie to me Lumière I saw your face, your eyes looked the same the night the last petal fell” she growled out, her fingers clenching against his as best she could.
Instead of a spoken reply Lumière's face merely crumbled in anguish and he choked out a sob as tears began to roll down his cheeks.
She could have sworn she felt her heart cave in on itself as she watched until she couldn't anymore and turned her head away. She knew it, she had been right. He had said she looked brighter instead of actually asking how she was feeling because that wasn't something one asked of someone who wasn't going to get better.
The door opened gently and Monsieur Robert carried in a tea tray “Good morning”
It finally clicked in her mind who he was and why she recognised him, he was the father of the village priest, his son had been here last night with him but she had been too confused at the time to realise. She gave him a hard glare without a care if he was a friend of Belle's or not. “What did you tell him?” she demanded with a sideward glance at Lumière who was frantically wiping at his face, trying to halt his tears.
The doctor paused with a sigh as he placed the tray down, his hand giving a gentle pat on Lumière's shoulder who merely shrugged him off. He stood before her at the side of the bed, with sad eyes and his hands clasped tight. “Miss...”
“Tell me exactly what you told him, why is he so distressed?” she cut him off, still glaring, if she could she would be up in his face because Lumière never cried over nothing, and it hurt her to see him so ruined.
“I fear when you were in labour something ruptured, you have been bleeding out for the past few days and now whatever the original cause was is infected as you have a fever... I am very sorry but there is nothing more I can do for you”
“How long?” she demanded after quietly processing his words for a moment.
“... Truthfully I did not expect you to live through the night, perhaps a few more days at most” his voice was so gentle it was hard to be as furious as she wanted to with him, out of the corner of her eye she saw Lumière shudder and heard his sharp intake of breath.
“... Well at least you are honest, merci” she sighed, closing her eyes to rest them from the bright light pouring in through the room.
“I would like you to drink this tea” Monsieur Robert was speaking again to which she merely gave a groan of annoyance “Please, it will help, you must be in pain” she was, in an awful lot in fact but she didn't feel like being particularly cooperative for him.
“Plumette?” Lumière pleaded quietly.
Her eyes cracked open to look at him before she gave in with a nod and the smallest of smiles, nothing more than a forced upward pull of the corner of her mouth and let Lumière lean over her and scoop her into his arms. She went dizzy from a sharp blaze of pain and whimpered, her fingers clutched in his shirt collar as she allowed the doctor to feed her more foul tasting tea.
Monsieur Robert made himself scarce with promises to return if they should need anything while Lumière fussed over making sure the bed covers were comfortable enough around her.
When he had spent long enough fussing he spoke, his voice so fragile “Darling... please say something...”
Her eyes flicked up to his in consideration, what was there to say? That is was unfair? Of course it was but when had life ever been fair? Should she be angry? Sad? Scream and wail like a child having a tantrum as if that would change anything? She had already died once this week, they had been here before and he had merely given her a sad smile, wrapped his candles around her tenderly and lead her into a dance, she wished she could dance with him again. She had been human once more for a grand total of six days and found she didn't have the energy to be scared this time, it was as if she had used up all her fear the last night of the curse the only difference was it hurt more now in a living body.
“Come here” she eventually murmured, her hand slipped around the back of his neck when he drew in close enough to pull him down to her lips. She pouted at the pained effort but he kissed her back so sweetly it was worth it, she pulled more at him and rolled on to her side, the movement already easier to manage with the poppy tea helping to ease her. He lay beside her pressed against her back, holding her gently. “Tell me a story” she smiled softly, bringing their laced hands to her mouth and pressing kisses to his finger tips.
“Of course, what would you like?” he asked, trailing kisses up her neck.
“Tell me about Versailles, when you worked for the Queen”
“... Mon amour you know those stories were nothing but lies” he sounded very apologetic, as if he was guilty that he had ever made up the stories when he had been trying to show off.
She let out a laugh “I should hope so! Otherwise I have been wrongfully telling people to ignore your tales all these years!” she squeezed his hand in hers. “Very well, then tell me of a good day, the happiest you can remember”
“That's easy, the happiest was the day I met you” she scoffed a little at his words “It is true!”
“I threw a cooking pot at your head!” she couldn't help but giggle and she felt his lips grinning against her ear.
“That may be true but it was still wonderful, I can clearly remember walking into the kitchen the first time and there you were! A beautiful young lady standing there in the corner”
“You are still the charmer, I would have said I was a scrappy little scullery maid who threw pots in tempers” she smiled, her lashes brushing against her cheeks as her eyes slipped closed with exhaustion. She yawned and pulled his arm tighter around her waist, oddly content despite the circumstances.
She woke up again curled in his arms and her head on his chest while his hands stroked up and down her back. The world wasn't as clear as it had been before and she felt sickly warm, everything seemed to ache. He offered her water that she refused, the very idea of trying to swallow something right now sending her nauseous stomach into a spasm. So they laid there, Lumière humming some tune or other that she couldn't quite place, even though she was sure she knew it, had sung to it once.
A horrible anxiety caught in her chest, there was something she knew they desperately needed to talk about and it had to be done before she was too sick to remember, before she was too far gone. “Darling...” she breathed, nudging her forehead against his chin.
“Oui, amour?” his arms tightened a little around her, not too much, but enough to make her feel safe.
“I need you to promise something”
“Anything” he murmured back, she would have smiled if she wasn't trying to trap him in his words, luring him to agree without knowing the terms.
“When I am dead...” she frowned, the words strange on her tongue, in all the time during the curse they had never said that particular word even when they knew what their fates would be, becoming knick-knacks, lightly used house ware, rubbish but never dead. “... you must promise me you will live your life”
'I wouldn't live without you' the words he had spoken the night she gave birth rattled around inside her head, words of love and devotion now a threat.
A hand cradled against the back of her head and he began trembling. “... Cherie … please do not ask that of me... I can't...”
Her heart sank in despair, he had always made such bold claims that he would die without her love, silly words of an overly passionate man but she knew he had been telling the truth, he had no plans of out living her. The idea of Lumière ending his own life on purpose was just unbearably painful.
“Mon amour... we waited so long for the curse to be broken, at least one of us should be free”
“Not without you” his voice shook.
“Lumière... I wanted so much more for you than this and you still have the rest of your life to live”
“Non! If you are not there what is the point of being free? Being human? All of it is worthless if it is alone” she could feel his shuddering sobs in his chest as much as she could hear them “Not without you” he snarled again.
She wanted to argue, to yell at him until he agreed with her but she was tired and simply didn't have the energy, choosing instead to close her eyes and relax against his chest as much as she could. He held her and sobbed, his fingers clenched into her chemise fabric, she didn't know how long he cried as she drifted in and out. A whimper slipped past her lips when her stomach growled and she curled in on herself a little, one arm holding around her middle.
“...Darling? Are you hungry?” Lumière stirred, the smallest hope creeping into his voice.
Plumette pressed her face into his shoulder “I wouldn't keep it down” she mumbled as her stomach demanded food, hunger pains mixing with nausea and she knew anything solid she tried wouldn't last long in her body, still it hurt.
“I cannot just let you starve”
She held her tongue from wanting to snap at him, she had a feeling she wouldn't be around long enough to truly starve and even if she did what did it matter? “Can I have more tea?” she asked after a moment, knowing the poppy tea would dull her hunger, dull everything.
“It's not time yet I'm afraid” he kissed at the top of her head and she grumbled, wanting the sensation numbing tea more than she wanted food. She tucked her face back down, her eyelids feeling awfully heavy. “When I die bury me under the tree... I'll watch over Marietta” she breathed and he began to cry again.
There wasn't much she could do but lay as still as possible as if she could hide from the pain and wait, so they waited. At one point Lumière tucked her back into bed and got up to pace the floor, unable to bear doing nothing, when she had let out a small distressed whine he was back at her side holding her hand and fussing over her.
As the morning passed through into afternoon the others had begun quietly coming in and out to visit her, it didn't take long to realise what they were doing, they were here to spend whatever time they had left with her before they had to say goodbye. She was dying and they all knew it. It was in the little things they did, no longer insisting she'd swallow down bland stews and disgusting medicine concoctions they knew wouldn't do anything, yet still firmly denying her more poppy tea until they had deemed it had been long enough since the last dose. Plumette idly wondered if an overdose of opium was the better option to suffering through till her last breath. Offers of whatever food she wanted to attempt were given instead, anything they could fetch that would make her happy.
They asked if she was in pain rather than if she was feeling better, they could do their best to manage the pain but she would not get better. There often was uncomfortable silences, the sort that surrounded all dying people, she knew it from the plague and she saw the same faces on them they had worn when the Prince's mother was dying. Nobody was giving her false promises of her health returning soon.
Garderobe was surprisingly tame when she came to sit beside her beside and so uncharacteristically quiet for the diva that it unnerved Plumette more than anything. She sat and held her hand, Cadenza with her and Frou-Frou demanding until he was placed up on the bed where he could settle in against the girl. It had taken her a long time to understand Garderobe because when she arrived the night of the ball after being commissioned for the events entertainment she hadn't be able to speak a word of French or English, Plumette had spent hours by her side the first few days of the curse trying to sooth her without a common language between them until they had learnt enough Italian from Cadenza to talk to her. They sat there with her and held her hands, stroking and soothing her while Garderobe sang gently.
Lumière stayed to the side, watching everyone who came quietly until a few occasions he would leave for a few minutes when he couldn't control himself with no desire to disturb anyone else with his tears. No one ever commented when he would turn for the door holding back pained whimpers and smoke rising from his shoulders.
Chapeau had brought his violin again, bowed the first few notes until he choked and let the instrument fall to clatter on the floor as he sat with his head in his hands and cried, loud ugly sobs that was the most sound he had made in years. He frantically rubbed at his face and his gaze caught hers, staring with red rimmed eyes and his shuddering throat trying to work, his lips trying to form words.
She patted his hand “Mon ami you do not have to speak” she told him, Chapeau physically could talk, she knew this being one of the very few people who had heard him do so but it always distressed his anxiety and she wouldn't have him sending himself into a panic just because he thought it was right that he had to speak to her now. She always had been able to understand him just fine anyway. He sat with her for a long time, having to help her when she once again was vomiting into the bucket.
Cogsworth had come in, sat very stoically at her side and rambled on with meaningless talk, just as he had always done when he was stressed or upset until she had watched Lumière step outside another time then she took a hold of the butler's hand, her eyes a little hazed but staring at him steadfast. “I need you to do something for me, monsieur”
“Anything” Cogsworth nodded, so desperate to please.
“You are Lumière's closest friend, not that he would ever admit it and so I would like you to watch over him” her thumb stroked across his knuckles when she looked away from his face, the hands aged but still so strong and capable, the very ones that had calmed her times when she was crying as a child or just picking up her dolls left at the kitchen table fussing at the mess. “I know he has plans to harm himself so will you please take care of him for me?”
“It would be an honour” he gave her a watery smile.
Mrs Potts had been the worst out of all the visits because she had brought Chip up with her, the little boy trudged up to her and stared with a trembling lip and tears flooding his face.
“Mon Chouchou...” she strained out a hand to weakly grip him by the shoulder and Chip let himself be dragged towards her.
“You said you were getting better” he accused through his sniffles as she clung around his back and rested her chin on his shoulder.
“I know, I'm sorry, ah!” she gasped, a sharp pain stabbing through her gut that left her struggling in the child's arms.
“Plumette!?” Chip wailed.
“Dearie?” Mrs Potts came forward, Lumière turned around from where he had been looking away out the window with an expression of horror on his face. “Easy lovey” the housekeeper soothed, prying Plumette's hands off Chip to lay her steady down in her pillows and her hand brushing her curls away to feel at her forehead.
She began retching, pained heaves tearing at her already acid sore throat and her hands weakly pawing at Mrs Potts as she held her up with the bucket beneath her mouth “Chip... Out” she gasped between the muscle spasms, she tilted her head down when she brought out a frothy mix of blood and bile, red trailing down her chin “Don't let him see!”
Lumière had come over and snatched a hold of Chip, dragging him from the room while the little boy shrieked and whined, the door rattled when it was pulled shut behind them. Plumette groaned, spitting out one last time into the bucket and trying to wipe at her chin with the back of her hand, blood thick across her tongue. Mrs Potts helped her take a few sips of water to wash it away and had placed the bucket down back on the floor. She took her handkerchief from her pocket and wetted it with water from the pitcher to wipe at the girl's face, trailing up to her forehead to cool her growing sweat.
“You're getting too warm again” The housekeeper sighed tiredly.
“Mmm, I don't want another bath” Plumette's head rolled against the pillows to stare at her, she hadn't noticed how glazed the girl's eyes had looked before.
“I know sweetheart, the doctor wouldn't recommend it cause you'll just heat up again anyway... but it might give you more time”
“Hurts” she disagreed with shake of her head and Mrs Potts didn't press the matter anymore, only continued to dab at her face with the handkerchief. “... When it's bad keep Chip away, I do not want him to remember this” she mumbled pressing her cheek into her friend's hand. Chip was only a child and she didn't want his last memories of her to be of horrible things, like how whenever she thought of her father the main thing she recalled was the sight of his corpse being loaded on the back of a plague cart to be taken away. If she could she wanted to spare them all the pain of watching her die, especially Lumière, she wanted to have him locked in the tower until she was gone but she knew what that would do to him, besides she needed him just as much.
Mrs Potts nodded “He would like to see you now though, would that be alright?” she asked. Plumette agreed and the housekeeper went to fetch back both her son and Lumière, when he was allowed in the little boy flew straight to her side, clutching her hands in his.
It hadn't taken long for Chip to climb the bed and curl up with her, his head resting on her chest while she idly stroked his hair and hummed soothing melodies, sometimes the matching words slipping out through her sore and weak throat “... Dapples and greys, pintos and bays all the pretty little horses...”
Chip had to be taken away when the pain became a little too much and the effort of holding it back in an attempt not to scare the boy only made it worse, Mrs Potts pressed a kiss to her damp forehead and left with an arm wrapped around her son while he rubbed at his eyes and snivelled.
Lumière curled himself up against the pillows with her, taking over the duty of trying to cool her down with the cloth and water and murmuring soothing words to calm her. It was then Belle had quietly come in and approached them, shuffling her feet and glancing up at them through heavy lashes while she chewed her lip. She didn't have to be here, she didn't really know them and nobody would have thought any less of her if she had chosen to stay away but the girl was kind and she was brave. When Lumière nodded at her to join them she placed herself neatly on the stool beside the bed taking up the aged copy of Gulliver's Travels from where it had still sat from when she had last left it. It seemed to help, Plumette entranced by the words she read out, calm and distracted until she had managed to fall asleep.
Something was disturbing her rest, something rustling nearby. Her eyes cracked open to blearily gaze around her and she let out a squeak of fear. Vines of roses had filled the room, trailing in through the open window to crawl up the walls, along the ceiling and floor, wrapping themselves around everything they could. They reached up across the bed, snagging into the blankets and stretching out towards her.
It was then she realised she could hear someone singing, the tune ever so familiar, it was the melody she had been singing to Chip. “... Way down yonder, in the meadow, poor little baby crying maman...” Marietta sat at the window, the vines slithering on past her, while she stared solemnly at her mother. Her white feathers stained a blood red. “... Birds and the butterflies peck out her eyes, poor little baby crying maman...”
The vines grabbed out at her and with a shriek Plumette tumbled herself out of bed to land hard on the floor, her trembling hands desperately trying to grip around a bed post to drag herself back up, her breath coming out in shuddering pants. Marietta turned towards her with a glare and the vines thrashed under her anger, lashing out like snakes around Plumette's ankles as she tried to clamber across the room, snatching a hold of furniture to keep herself upright.
Adam slipped his hand into Belle's, grateful to have her at his side while their small group stood outside in the hallway. Listening to Monsieur Robert as he outlined a few ideas on how to keep Plumette comfortable, because they were at the stage where comfort was all they could give, it wasn't going to get any better. Lumière was standing there not saying a word, merely staring blankly down at the floor while his hands clenched at his hair.
All of them looked up in alarm when the door slammed open, Plumette clutching a hold of the handle to stand and her eyes wild with fear, rivets of blood trailing down the inside of her legs to her feet and a glance behind her would show smears across the wooden floorboards in the room.
“Plumette!” Lumière cried running forward to take her into his hold, one arm securely around her back to support her and the other trying to take a hold of her chin to see her face while she thrashed in his grasp. “Why are you out of bed?!”
“She's here!” the girl gasped out, sweat running down her face
“Who's here?” Mrs Potts spoke beside them, trying to place a comforting hand on Plumette's back to calm her only to be shook off.
“Mariettas here, she's going to kill me” she sobbed, pulling in air as if she couldn't breathe.
Lumière curled his hand on her nape, trying to encourage her to rest against his shoulder “Darling Marietta is dead and nothing here will harm you!”
“Non, non!” Plumette struggled more, her fevered eyes sweeping up and locking onto the Prince as he and Belle approached. “You! What are you doing here?!”
“...Plumette?” Adam shrunk back a little.
“It's your fault! You ruined our lives, you ruined everything!” she wobbled dangerously but she was still furious, her eyes glazed. “You killed my baby!”
He let out a harsh gasp and snatched out his hand towards her, wanting to take her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was, to beg for forgiveness.
A horrible fear flashed in Lumière's eyes and he quickly twisted them around to place himself between his love and the Prince, clutching her to his chest. “No master! She doesn't know what she's saying!” he cried, bracing himself with a wince
Adam froze, a deep sickened feeling settling in his stomach, he'd thought... he thought.
Oh god.
He turned and bolted, his footsteps clattering loudly up the hallway with the echoes of them trying to wrangle Plumette back into bed behind him, she was still crying out. He turned a corner and his hand blindly grabbed at the door to Belle's room, working the latch open and throwing himself inside, just needing to get away and his chambers was too far on the other side of the castle for him to hide in now. He pressed his palms to his eyes as sobs wrecked through his frame, his throat hitching and catching wetly.
“Adam?” Belle called, peering in the doorway and following him in. “Talk to me, please” she came up to him and reached out a hand to tug his away from his face. “She didn't meant it, she's confused and frightened”
“He thought I meant to hit her!” he howled, trying to pull away from her.
“Lumière?”
He nodded with a sad warble “He still fears me”
“Darling he's terrified for her and he hasn't slept in days, he has every right to be short on nerves. Here come sit with me” she tugged at his wrists, leading him to her bed where they sat side by side and her arm pulled around his shoulders to tug his face into her neck. “Everyone is upset, it's alright” her hand stroked his hair away from his face gently.
“But I would have!” he whimpered, curling in towards her “You weren't there, before the curse I would have hit her” Belle said nothing only continued to stroke his hair and let him talk. “If I knew she was pregnant before the curse I would have thrown her out instantly, Plumette has been here my entire life, she helped raised me and I would have thrown her out to the streets, she would have died in some gutter alone”
“But you have changed, you are better now and she is not alone” Belle soothed, pressing a kiss to his crown. She couldn't help but think of her mother, alone and frightened dying in that old windmill with no loved ones by her side, at least Plumette was surrounded by her friends. “Now, wipe your eyes and come with me” she lent him a handkerchief from her skirts pocket, gave him a few moments to make himself more presentable and took his hand in hers, leading him from the room.
“Where are we going?” he quietly asked.
“We are going to see Plumette and you are going to tell her all these things you have told me” Belle held up her chin in determination, ready for the argument that never really came. She tugged in through the open doorway to the room he had given to his friends, finding Monsieur Robert watching over his patient with a grim frown and Garderobe sat upon the stool using a fan to try to cool the girl down who looked to be asleep, so fragile looking amongst the pillows and her breathing coming too shallow.
“How is she?” she asked, her hand giving Adam's a gentle squeeze.
Garderobe shook her head sadly “She is burning with fever”
“We've given her more poppy tea and that calmed her down, she's resting now” Monsieur Robert sighed. “We had to insist for Lumière to be taken to the kitchen and eat something before he falls faint, his devotion to her is admirable”
Adam just nodded sadly, his eyes locked on the girl in the bed and Belle looked to both of them “Would it be alright to have a few minutes alone with her?”
The doctor, observed them for a moment before agreeing “Of course, I will be just outside if you should need my assistance” he made for the door, Garderobe gently kissing Plumette's forehead then following him out.
“Belle... I don't think I can do this...” Adam breathed, not making any attempt to approach the bed.
“You will regret it forever if you don't” Belle replied simply and folded her arms, giving him a hard stare “You've told me you wished you could go back and say things to your mother that you couldn't, don't let this be the same”
Adam quietly let her guide him to sit on the stool in defeat.
“... I think I should go find Agathe” Belle murmured, almost to herself as if she was still considering the plan.
Adam's eyes snapped up to her “What?”
“The Enchantress, she's the only hope we have left, she saved you … maybe she can save Plumette, it's worth the chance”
“You'll never find her in time! Besides why would she even help?” He growled.
“I have to try! … Look just stay here with her and talk to her!” with that Belle was already heading out the door, her skirts flying behind her.
“She's not even awake what am I supposed to do?” he snapped after her.
“Talk to her!” the replied came snapped from down the hall.
Adam hissed out a sigh, his fingers digging into his thighs in frustration. However his eyes softened when he turned to look up at Plumette. She looked so sick, he hadn't gotten close enough to appreciate just how bad it had gotten until now. As a general rule in life he never liked sick people, ever since his mother died he just refused to acknowledge it, going so far to take a trip out to Paris when his father was dying, which also had a lot to do with the fact his father was a horrible man but still he hadn't been there to see him pass, choosing instead to let the staff take care of him.
“... Plumette...” he began, trying to think of what he could say, what in some possible way could make this at all better. “... I...” he floundered then gave up with a sad huff, it was no use and she couldn't hear him anyway. A curl of her dark hair had fallen over her eyes so he gently reached over to brush it away, his hand pausing to stroke her warm cheek. “I'm sorry...”
“Mmm?...” she shifted, her eyes sliding open a crack “...Lumière?”
“It's Adam” he soothed her, taking his hands away and folding them neatly in his lap.
“... Master?” She croaked as she tilted her head to see him more clearly. “... Master you're here? What.... “ she struggled to roll a little onto her side to face him “... Oh no... I think... Did I shout at you?”
“You did, it was quite impressive” he tried to smile.
Her eyes widened “Master please forgive me I am so sorry I would-” she blinked at him when he reached out and took her hand in his own.
“Hush now it's alright, besides every word you spoke was true” He pulled his hand back when her eyes lowered from his, doing nothing to protest his words, to say that she didn't still think him at fault. “It's alright to blame me, you can hate me if you wish, I would in your place”
“... I do not hate you” Plumette muttered, it was bitter but it was still true, though she sounded partly exasperated for herself saying it. Adam flinched, that had always been the problem, no matter what he had done to them, no matter how selfish and cruel he could be they had always been there for him, then the curse had happened and all through those long years they had looked at him with the same devotion, perhaps it would have been easier if they had always hated him.
He shifted uncomfortably, twiddling his thumbs trying to think of what to say while she just quietly laid there, looking so frail and hurt. “What's this?” he hardly meant to speak the words but he had noticed the book sitting on the table at his side, lifting the old thing into his hands.
“Miss Belle has been reading to me” Plumette sighed, watching him curiously.
Adam nodded, turning the book to look at its title and paused. “My mother used to read this to us, in the library when father was away!” he grinned at her “This was her favourite book I had no idea we still had it” he opened it and stroked his fingers along a the print. “Mother loved you...”
“Your mother loved everyone she knew, that was her way and we loved her in return for it” she spoke gently, her voice exhausted.
The Prince's eyes lifted from the book to her with a frown in place. “She loved you so much and I've spent all these years being nothing but an arse”
Plumette gave him a knowing smile “That would be one word for it”
“I am so sorry, I truly am” he breathed harshly, tears glistening in his eyes.
She let out a huff “Come here and read to me” she gasped in pain as she dug her elbows beneath her and shifted across the mattress just enough to make space for him, the effort leaving her breathless.
“Plumette!” Adam worried, his hand on her shoulder trying to soothe her somehow.
She glared up at him with a mumble “You better sit now I've moved” her hand locked into his shirt and tugged him down with no strength. Adam let her position how she wanted so that he sat against the headboard and if he was bothered by how sweat damp the pillows and sheets were he said nothing of it while she curled up into his side, nuzzling into his shoulder. “We used to do this all the time, but you are a little too big to sit in my lap now”
He couldn't help but smile taking up the book again when she nudged him and finding where Belle had left a scrap of paper between the pages to mark her place, clearing his throat he began to read. “This academy is not an entire single building, but a continuation of several houses on both sides of a street...” Her hands curled around his arm and held loosely as she relaxed against him, breathing softly.
She dozed as he read to her for a while until the door creaked open, Lumière coming in looking worn threadbare. “...Master?” his head tilted to the side in question.
“Oh Lumière!” the Prince flushed, placing the book down on the bed.
“Amour?” Plumette roused herself, eyes blinking up hazily with a small smile set in place. “...Adam's reading, it's nice” she yawned, rubbing a fist against her eyes.
Lumière smiled coming to stand beside them “That sounds lovely but you look tired, would you like to sleep?” he asked gently and after a moments consideration she gave a nod. He let Adam wrangle his arms under her and got her back comfortable down in the bed and moved in when the Prince stepped aside. He took the stool and leaned in close, stroking at her cheek. “Cherie how are you feeling?”
She nudged a little closer, pressing her forehead to his and hummed “Not good” her hazed eyes watched him, pained but still full of affection “Love you”
“I love you too darling, so much” he kissed her softly, holding her hand and watching her until her eyes closed and she drifted off. Behind him Adam fidgeted then made for the door “... You can stay if you wish, master”
The Prince turned towards his friend, who hadn't so much as turned in his direction but held his focus on his beloved. “Lumière I am so sorry” he breathed out in a rush, stepping back forward, the other man looked over his shoulder at him, confusion written on his features. “This is all my fault, I ruined everything”
Lumière stared at him, seeming to struggle for something to say before shaking his head, as if the Prince's words had near offended him. “Do not worry yourself master, I already know I am the one to blame”
“You?” It was now Adam's turn to look confused, coming to stand at his friend's shoulder.
“Oui... If I had only listened to her... she wanted to leave you know” he murmured, as if he was telling some great secret. “About a week or so before the night of the ball she was distraught, you had screamed at her for some reason or another and decided she had enough of it, she came to me and begged me to leave with her... but I convinced her to stay because I knew you needed us...” there was no accusations in his voice, just stating what he understood to be true, “... I put your need before hers and it was the wrong choice... I should have listened and left with her, if I had we would have been free these past ten years, our daughter would be alive... Plumette... wouldn't be...” he broke down into sobs and curled in on himself, his shoulders shaking with grief.
Adam made to rest his hand on his shoulder when Lumière ducked out of reach, pacing the room as smoke and sparks danced from his fingertips, his chest hitching “Ten years!” he howled furiously, snatching a hold of anything within his reach to take out his anger on, it happened to be a candle stick from the dresser that he glared at then threw across the room, it clattered loudly against the wall “Ten years we were trapped, ten years we suffered and hoped and prayed! We did nothing wrong! Doesn't she deserve her happy ending! … I promised her it would be alright in the end if we waited long enough... I promised”
A pained gasp caught their attention, Plumette lightly thrashing in her sleep and Lumière was quick to return to her side, dragging his palms down his face to wipe away his tears. “Darling? … Shh darling it's alright, I'm here” he tried to soothe her, his fingers stroking at her face and he could feel how hot she was, her chemise clinging stuck to her skin with sweat.
When she seemed to become more distressed and she had begun shivering again as she had the night before Adam darted out the door to fetch help and promptly returned with Monsieur Robert, Mrs Potts and Cogsworth at his heels.
“She needs help, something is wrong!” Lumière worried, watching over her as she gave shallow and rasping breaths.
Monsieur Robert stood beside him, his solemn eyes looking over her while he held her wrist and felt a pulse that was too fast and weak. “... I am sorry but... I believe she's at the end” his voice was still soft and calm, his eyes begging for understanding.
Lumière shook his head frantically “No, no! There has to be something that can be done! Perhaps another ice bath? If we cool her down again-” he rambled, his gaze darting about as if he could possibly find some secret that would help, that would protect his beloved.
Mrs Potts came to his side and gently spoke “Love, you'd just be makin' her sufferin' last longer”
“But it cannot be the end yet! I beg you there must be something! We need more time!” Lumière was frantic, turning to look at each one of them with terrified eyes, waiting for someone to help. “Please!”
“... Lumière we knew this was going to happen...” Cogsworth spoke, his eyes glistening.
He grabbed a hold of Monsieur Robert's sleeve “Please, we've been together for twenty-five years, she's been my life since I was a boy I need her”
The doctor took a hold of his hand, his fingers squeezing gently “I am sorry there is nothing we can do” he let go and stepped back to look over his patient. “She most likely will not wake again, the best we can do is try to keep her comfortable” he glanced around the room, the others nodding quietly along. “ Monsieur, I believe she may still be able to hear us, why don't you sit with her?”
Lumière nodded weakly, his throat tight and refusing to work as he let himself be guided to sit back beside the bed by the doctor. He found he could not speak, he had so many things he wanted to tell her, to beg her not to leave but he couldn't say goodbye, it would mean it was real.
“Do you want to be left alone?” Mrs Potts asked softly, her voice hitching as she tried to hold back tears of her own, Lumière merely shook his head. He took a hold of Plumette's hand, stroking his thumb across her knuckles as he watched her. She and Cogsworth came to stand behind him, if he wanted them there they would stay, the four of them had been together for years, through the curse and they were not about to leave now.
Plumette calmed a bit though she still seemed a little breathless while she laid there far too quiet apart from the rasping, her brows drawn in over sunken in eyes. Lumière had taken to wiping at her face with the damp cloth still left aside on the table, hoping if it wouldn't cool her down at least it might feel nicer not to be so sticky with sweat, he knew how much she hated sweating when it would ruin her make up. The tremors returned, growing from mere shivering to move violent thrashes as her body began to convulse.
“Quickly! Hold her head!” Monsieur Robert commanded, Lumière scrambling to cup his hands around her face to steady her. “Don't let her hurt herself” Mrs Potts held her hands, her fingers gently massaging while her fingers twitched in her grasp.
Adam stood back, silently watching with horror on his features.
“Darling?” Lumière called softly when she stopped after what felt like an eternity later, his palms loosening to cradle her face carefully, his thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. “Darling please don't leave”
She seemed to be struggling more to breathe as the minutes ticked by, rattling in her chest.
His pale blue eyes flickered over her face, watching her through his tears for some response, a sign that she could hear him. “Please I am not strong enough without you, I cannot do this alone... please stay... because I need you... and because I love you... and that should be enough... please let it be enough” he gasped pressing his forehead to hers. If love could break spells and turn people back from cursed forms surely it could do this, but there wasn't any magic here and even love couldn't prevent death itself in the end. She gasped once, twice then went awfully still beneath his hands. “Plumette?...” he leaned back a little, just enough to look at her face. “Plumette!” he shook at her shoulder, determined to get a response his mind locked up in hysteria. “Plumette... you can't... please... please Plumette”
Monsieur Robert stepped forward and carefully felt at her wrist for a pulse “... I am sorry” he said gently with a shake of his head.
Lumière gave a pained wail, clutching her up in arms and crying into her hair. Mrs Potts palmed at her face as she trembled with her own tears, Cogsworth stared stiffly, his eyes damp and he placed his hand on the housekeeper's shoulder. The doctor quietly slipped out of the room to allow them to grieve.
No one had the heart to pull Lumière away, instead they just stood there watching as he broke.
The door flung open to reveal a panting Belle, leaning heavily on the handle for a moment before she staggered in exhausted with a familiar women behind her. “I found her! I found Agathe!” she gasped, pushing a handful of her wild hair out of her face.
“... It's too late sweetheart...” Mrs Potts mourned, turning to look at her.
“....What? … No...” Belle's face crumpled into sadness.
Lumière opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder, his back going stiff when he saw who had arrived. “You!” he snarled, his hands carefully withdrawing from his beloveds body and he swung around towards the door. “How dare you come here! Was killing her not enough?” Adam snatched Belle out of the way as he stormed forward, smoke rising from his form. “Your witchcraft murdered my Plumette and Marietta! You took my family from me!”
Agathe merely blinked owlishly at him, without saying a word. Fire sparked from the man's hand that he was quickly reaching out to aim at the Enchantress. He was going to kill her, the panicked thought blazed around the room. “Lumière, no!” Adam yelled, leaping at the Footman and grabbing at his arms.
“Get off of me!” Lumière howled, slamming his fist across the Prince's jaw without a care that he could receive a death sentence at the gallows for it.
Belle and Cogsworth both stood together watching in fear, while Mrs Potts leaned over Plumette, gently murmuring words through her tears, as if she could protect the dead girl from the anger.
“No! Lumière calm down!” Adam snarled back, pining his arms behind his back and slamming his friend forcefully into the wall. Agathe silently side stepped their brawl and walked to Mrs Potts, placing her chilled hand on the housekeeper's shoulder and guiding her out the way when her tear filled eyes met hers.
“Leave her alone! Don't touch her!” Lumière thrashed against the wall, glaring over his shoulder at her.
Adam dragged him along the wall heading for the door, scorch marks trailing as they went and with a furious shove he forced Lumière out of the room, slamming the door shut and locking it before he had a chance to right himself. The footman banged at the door screaming.
Agathe had sat herself down on the edge of the bed, stroking idly at Plumette's sweat slicked hair in thought. “Is there something you can do?” Belle asked nervously, stepping up. Agathe stared at her until she was uncomfortable before her emotionless eyes flicked back down.
The air felt warmer, energy crackling in the air as her magic woke up and Mrs Potts, Cogsworth and Adam all shrunk back as they remembered the same feeling the night of the ball. Agathe placed her hand on the girl's forehead, a soft glow around the point of contact while the Enchantress seemed to be concentrating. Golden light lazily grew larger and brighter around them, without rush or panic, just gently gathering and building while she sat and stared, her fingers gently massaging Plumette's still warm skin.
She leaned down and kissed her.
When she pulled away Plumette's eyes snapped open, her back arching and her mouth gasping open as she desperately tried to breathe again.
“Plumette!” Mrs Potts cried, quickly coming to be perched at her side and snatch her up in her arms when the girl sat up hunched over herself, holding her in a fierce hug. Agathe slipped out of the way without a word.
Plumette was still greedily pulling in air “W-water” she choked, frantically pawing at her friend. Cogsworth was quick at her side, pouring out a glass from the pitcher and handing it to the housekeeper who had barely any time to bring it to the girl's mouth before she was grabbing at it, gulping it down. “More” she hacked wetly, trying to snatch out at the pitcher and when it was passed over she had it out Mrs Potts's hands, drinking straight from it. Handing it back she messily wiped at her mouth, still coughing and for the first time her watering eyes peered about, blinking in the harsh daylight. “... Where's Lumière?”
The noise from outside the door had stopped and Cogsworth went very pale, remembering his promise to her. “... I'll just go check...”
“He's on the roof” Agathe spoke up softly, her eyes focused on a spot of the ceiling as if she could see him through the castle. Cogsworth's eyes widened with a nod and he promptly unlocked the door and scurried out.
Belle threw herself into Adam's arms in relief, grinning wildly. “Oh dearie! You're back this is wonderful!” Mrs Potts sobbed, kissing all over Plumette's face, who smiled even though she was dazed and confused.
She giggled under the sudden affection “I'm back? Where did I go?”
Mrs Potts placed one last kiss on her forehead before she pulled back enough to look at her “Oh darling, you were sick and … and you died... but you're here with us again it's a miracle”
Plumette's eyes widened as she remembered what had happened, her conversation with her beloved from that morning coming back to her. He wouldn't...
But she knew he would. “Where is Lumière!?” she demanded, struggling out of Mrs Potts's arms and staggering to her feet only to give a cry and fall to her knees. The three of them rushed to help her and hold her steady “Where is he!?” she snarled, shaking off their hands.
“Cogsworth has gone to fetch him” Belle tried to calm her, not understanding.
“On the roof” Agathe repeated, standing by the window where she had been blankly staring out.
“No, no no!” Plumette cried, dodging away from them and out the door “He's going to kill himself!” She ran as fast as she could despite the way her body screamed at her to stop and breathe, Mrs Potts, Adam and Belle quick at her heels.
Nobody saw Agathe shrug to herself before calmly wandering out alone.
He wouldn't dare, not from here, Plumette's mind screamed at her, not from their hiding place. Over the years of the curse when she felt particularly hopeless and trapped she would make her way to the roof to flit and flutter about the towers, she couldn't leave the castle grounds but up here it was almost like she didn't have to come down. Lumière would sit and watch her, for hours sometimes, while she pretended she was free.
Climbing the many stairs, too many stairs, she feared she had headed for the wrong tower until she heard Cogsworth's voice, broken and desperate. “Please just step back over here, it's alright” she could hear Lumière saying something, too gentle and far to hear then rounding the last turn of the steps she saw him, standing on the very edge of the walkway between the towers with his back to her.
Her lips parted, she sucked in a breath to shout.
He fell.
She kept running out along the walkway, up to the edge narrowly side stepping Cogsworth and she jumped.
He was not going anywhere without her.
Flying as a feather duster was nothing like falling as a human, the wind whipping past her eyes hurt and her stomach in knots. She could see him just out of her reach below, falling and falling, the unforgiving stone ground closer with each second. She needed to be with him she needed to go faster. There was an odd feeling of warmth and a bright golden light, then a distant sense of the back of her chemise splitting open as her wings returned to her. She didn't have time to question it or even think instead she just flapped, each stroke sending her down faster.
She snarled in frustration when her fingers just nearly brushed against his shirt, just a little more, the ground was terrifyingly close now.
She's already died twice this week, third times the charm, the thought flashed though her mind bitterly.
Her fist snagged into the back of his shirt and she was able to quickly pull him against her and lock her arms around his waist. The moment she had him her wings spread out, catching the wind and trying to halt their fall and she let out a shrill cry as it pulled harshly at her wings. They were still going far too fast, she gave a groan and dipped one wing to allow for a turn narrowly missing the spiked peak of one of the lower towers, Lumière for his part just hanging in her grip with his hands clutching at her arms in shock. Their fall more controlled into a glide now as she swooped over the castle's grand entrance, luckily missing the rose garden and they landed hard on the gravelled path.
Plumette tucked her head into his neck and her wings curled to protectively around him as they went tumbling across the ground. Coming to a stop with Lumière pinned on his back beneath her laying in the dirt, her wings stretching out and quivering behind her as she felt his chest heaving against hers. Her fingers grabbed at his face, barely registering his shocked wide eyes on her before she slammed her lips into his. “You idiot!” she gasped against his mouth “You stupid, stupid idiot!” she couldn't stop kissing him, her wonderful stupid love. “Never do that again! I'll kill you myself next time” she nipped at his lips, her fingers slipping to sink into his hair.
“Plumette! My Plumette, mon ange!” he sobbed, nuzzling into her cheek and his arms clamped around her, neither of them having the attention to notice when Plumette's wings crumbled away into feathers on the ground.
He was alive, she grinned wildly, they were alive.
------
Five Years Later -
Plumette smiled gently, touching her fingertips to Marietta's name carved on her gravestone and placed the bouquet of flowers down at its base. It seemed quite a few of the others had already come with gifts for their daughter's birthday, a collection of flowers and trinkets left, still no roses, never roses. She recognised what was a wooden carved feather and candle that seemed to be Maurice's work.
Lumière stood beside her, holding their three year old son steady on his hip who had his mother's curls and eyes. With a huff she struggled to her feet and a hand pressed to her swollen belly, their third child closer with every passing day.
She leaned back with a wince, trying to find a comfortable way to bear the extra weight “Garderobe and Cadenza have demanded to be this one's godparents” she sighed.
Lumière's eyes dazzled mischievously, catching the warm afternoons sun “I fear the Madame will murder our Prince and Princess if they receive the honour again, then they will be sadly beheaded for treason all for the sake of the right to be godparents to our child”
“Darling! Do not even jest of such a thing!” she giggled even so, he was always so dramatic. The musicians hadn't ever been upset over their choosing for Adam and Belle to be their son's godparents, but as soon as she had announced she was pregnant again Garderobe had demanded to be Godmother before anyone else could get a word in. Smiling her hand curled around the back of Lumière's neck and dragged him into a gentle kiss, breaking away when their son between them grabbed a tiny fistful of her blouse and tugged. “Would you like a kiss as well? mon chouchou” she cooed, attacking his dimpled cheeks until he was squealing with laughter.
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Ahhhhhhhh happy holidays to you dear @fonsscientae​!!! I’m your @rotgsecretsanta​! Honestly I have no idea if this is anything like what you wanted but I saw the words post battle and angst in your requests and I just rolled with it! Um I hope you like it??? :3c So I wrote you a kinda angst Jack fic? Let me know what you thought I can always try something else maybe if its not what you wanted??
Ahhhh happy holidays to you @nogoodnessimproveme​! I’m your batb secret santa! Uhh I hope you like this? After stalking your blog for a while I noticed you seemed to like Adam with babies so I had a go at it????
Also on Ao3
Belle knew she was instantly in love with her the first time she laid eyes on the baby that was so carefully being placed down into her waiting arms. She took in a shaky breath, her eyes watering. “Adam!” she squeaked.
“Yes love?” her prince spoke up from where he sat right beside her bed, his face filled with a dreamy warmth as he gazed back at the pair of them.
“Look at her! Look what we made! She’s perfect!” Belle grinned, her arms lifting the baby closer.
“Well you were always such a clever inventor” he pressed a kiss to her temple, paying no mind to the fact she was covered in sweat and her hair was a drenched tangle over her shoulders. “My clever Belle”
She choked out a laugh, she was beyond tired from the long hours of labour and everything just felt so sore right now but she hardly had the attention for any of that when the tiny bundle opened up her eyes, the same warm brown as her mother’s blinking up at her and a tiny balled fist knocking against her chest as the little one found her limbs. “Mrs Potts! Look!”
The housekeeper came to her side, peering over despite having been the one to hand her the baby in the first place, having enough experience with birthing children to act as her midwife, a loving smile in place. “She’s beautiful, poppet” she spoke softly as she tucked stray hair out of Belle’s face behind her ear, her face so full of love.
The baby began to grumble and fuss then pitched up with a cry. Belle looked panicked, her nerves already rung out bare, cooing and stroking her fingers against a chubby cheek. “What do I do? What’s wrong with her?” she whined, Adam’s hand rubbing soothingly at her shoulder.
“She’s been through a lot just now love, it’s all very scary for her, let’s try feedin’ her see if that will settle her down” Mrs Potts chuckled before beginning to explain how to breastfeed, Belle tackling it with all the curiosity of a book worm and asking an occasional question while Adam tucked his head against her shoulder, simply enjoying being with them.
After a few hours when their daughter had fallen asleep and Belle felt ready for more company Mrs Potts slipped out to invite up the others. “I’m sure Plumette is beside herself with excitement” she had said as she left.
It was not long until the door reopened and a beaming Plumette was charging in, dash hurriedly coming along the bed and her soft hands cupping either side of Belle’s face “Well done mon ange! I am so proud of you!” she sang, planting kisses all over her face, Belle giggling and pressing her lips to her friend’s cheek where she could catch her still enough. The girl’s eyes turned down to her arms “She’s incredible” with that Plumette had placed herself on the bed sitting beside her, cooing over the baby in delight.
Lumière was slower approaching, mindful of their small son held against his hip who was all pretty pastel ruffles and lace with the dark skin and eyes of his mother, lovely ringlets framing his little chubby face. “Oh ma chere mademoiselle, you have done beautifully! C'est magnifique!” he praised, angling his toddler and propping him up a little more to see “Chauncey darling, who’s that?”
The little boy’s large doe eyes stared, a small smile dimpling his cheeks as he recognised his favourite Princess “Beh-Beh” he was only just starting to learn words and he had managed to grasp the first sounds of Belle’s name, who was delighted at any new result of his development.
“Yes that’s Belle! And look my little one she has a new baby!” Lumière grinned, leaning down to quickly place his lips on Belle’s forehead, she smiled in return.
Chauncey stared at the little bundle in her arms then his eyes flicked between his parents, considering this new development. “Beh-Bab” he spoke after a moment, letting go of his father with one hand and reaching for the princess, a stubborn pout in place.
“We’ll have to make sure he doesn’t get jealous now that he’s not the only baby of the house” Mrs Potts smiled.
“I’m just glad I’m not the baby of the house anymore” Chip spoke up coming to stand with his mother. With the curse ended a few years ago now he had finally began the growth spurts that he was sorely due, becoming a weed of a boy, soon to be a young man. Cogsworth and Chapeau both standing behind him with soft smiles of their own.
“Still my baby though” Mrs Potts laughed, ruffling his hair.
“Mum!” he flushed.
“He better learn soon especially with my next little one on the way” Plumette sighed, one hand idly rubbing at her bump, their second baby not far away now. Lumière’s eyes turned to her, completely smitten with love and passed over their son to her when she gestured to take him, the little boy fussing to be nearer Belle, he was placed on his mother’s lap and continued his silent observation of the new child.
Maurice had stood back, content for a moment just to watch his daughter with her new family, his soul near bursting with pride; she so looked like her mother. Belle’s eyes turned up and met his with a smile on her face. “Papa!” He walked towards her, took her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Lumière’s eyes drifted from his wife and son over to spot Adam, near hiding himself shyly against the bed post and quietly observing them all, he wasn’t going to have any of that, his friend was going to join in with them, one way or another. “Congratulations Master! This is certainly cause for a celebration!” he snagged a hold of their Prince and wrangled him into his arms, clapping him on the back firmly.
Adam winced “Thank you… but perhaps we can wait til later to plan any celebrations” he gave a laugh at Lumière’s put out expression, being denied another grand ball to work on just yet. Although there would have to be some kind of event with his sickening Parisian relatives as they would take offence if they were not invited to meet the new Princess.
“But I wonder master, have you not held your new little treasure yet?” the footman pressed, all too well knowing that Adam more than likely was purposely keeping himself away, if only by standing a few inches too far and remaining silent, it had been years and they still had to encourage him to join in, that his emotions and love wasn’t wrong.
“I … well I was giving Belle time to bond” their Prince rambled a little, his cheeks flushing as his fingers fiddled with his sleeves.
“And now it is your turn!” with a nod and a grand sweep of his arm Lumière gestured him towards Belle who had stopped her excited chatter with Plumette, both women watching him expectantly.
Adam froze in place “… What if I hurt her?” he finally uttered and there was a shared look around the room. They had all thought as much, he was still terrified of somehow loosing his temper and lashing out, of damaging their wonderful baby because he didn’t know how to be gentle enough not to.
“Master I was a china cup and you never hurt me” Chip folded his arms with one raised eyebrow.
He fumbled for a moment more until Belle gave him a pointed look “She wants to meet you” and suddenly he was nodding and perching himself on the side of the bed, Plumette grinning wildly from across his wife while she held her own child. Mrs Potts leaned over with gentle reminders to support the baby’s head as Belle moved her into his arms and the same brown eyes that he had always loved so dearly stared up at him. She lay nestled in the crook of his elbow, his shaking hand reaching out to touch her face when her own tiny fist clenched around one of his fingers. Belle moved to curl against his side and rest her head on his shoulder, watching. “She loves you”
“I still remember when you were that small” Mrs Potts sighed happily, all of them gathering in a bit closer, and if one had looked they would have been noticed Cogsworth was trying to wipe at his eyes offhandedly.
“Oui! Now the grandparents must meet the baby!” Lumière cheered with a clap of his hands.
Maurice smiled, Mrs Potts frowned “Are you calling me a grandmother?”
Lumière faltered a little “Well we all know it was you who raised the Master when he was small…”
“Are you implyin’ I’m old Lumière?” Mrs Potts folded her arms, staring him down.
“Ah non! I just thought… I well”
“Listen young man you may be grown with your own family now but you are never to old to have yer ears boxed”
Plumette tried to muffle her giggles while her beloved shrunk into himself a little, looking very much like he was the teenager he had arrived at the castle as who was constantly in trouble. Mrs Potts’s displeased expression slipped from her face to reveal a teasing smile and she turned to look over Adam’s shoulder, her finger stroking across the baby’s cheek. “I’ve already met her, an’ I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunities to cuddle her later” She stood aside to make room for Maurice and nodded him over. She was determined to make sure the naturally shy man wasn’t in anyway left out, knowing he could sometimes feel a little awkward with them as Belle’s new family.
He stepped up to his son in law and took his granddaughter in his arms, full of intense emotions. Belle looked so much like her mother but not only that it was the way she beamed at him with pride, that spark of what made her so wonderfully herself was identical to the woman he had loved and looking down at this tiny baby in his arms who stared at him with the same eyes, full of curiosity, he could just tell that same spark would burn inside her too.
You are going to be fearless and the world better be ready because you are coming for it. He thought, holding her to his cheek and his lips pressing against her little scruff of dark hair.
He smiled as tears ran down his cheeks. “What have you called her?” he asked when he was finally able to, swiping his face against his shoulder to dry his eyes.
“Juliet” Adam replied, giving a half attempted and playful roll of his eyes as if he wasn’t bursting with pride and that he hadn’t actually been the one to suggest the name in the first place. Belle had been a fan of the idea straight away although she had been a little confused as he had always claimed to despite that particular book. Although he still didn’t find it an interesting read himself Belle loved it and he loved the way her face would light up when she read it aloud to him, it had been one of the first things they had bonded over so why shouldn’t their daughter be named after something they both felt for.
After a while Belle began to feel the efforts of the labour catching up to her, leaving her exhausted so her family left her to rest. Adam perched up beside her while she dozed on his shoulder, Juliet fast asleep in his arms. Belle stirred “How is she?” she asked, needing to check in to make sure everything was alright.
“She’s doing well my love, it’s alright you just rest” he soothed, kissing her forehead.
“Mmm, are you alright?”
He considered, knowing what she meant, because his caring Belle was always much more concerned for the well being of others before her own, she was worried he was distracted by something. “I’m just terrified I will do something wrong, something to hurt her, or you, the pair of you are the most important thing in my life and I cannot do anything that will ruin this”
“Stop thinking so hard!” she whined, lightly head butting his shoulder. “Just let yourself breathe and don’t worry yourself sick, all you need to worry about is showering me in love” she grinned at him, though she was still near half asleep. “And perhaps what items of clothing Garderobe, Plumette and Lumière are already planning for our daughter”
“That is very much a concern” Adam couldn’t help but smile back, knowing those three would be delighted to dress his baby up in all manner of expensive and unnecessary garments. He had a feeling he would have to place a firm rule of no make up, wigs or jewellery on Juliet until she was old enough to decide for herself.
Belle let out a light laugh as she tucked her head against his neck. “We’ll be fine, if we can over come a magic curse together we can do this, we’re in this together and we have anyone else here too. Our little girl is going to grow up surrounded by love, she’s going to be amazing” she sighed and was fast asleep just after closing her eyes, full of content.
Adam rested his chin on top of her head as he looked down at Juliet breathing softly in his arms, so full of promise and hope. They had survived the curse together and all that pain was behind them where it could only be a bad memory now, those long years of suffering would be worth it to see their daughter grow up happy.
