So this was the West Wing. Belle had been curious at the Beast's refusal for her to enter it and had decided to go ahead and explore while she had the chance. She passed destroyed furniture and shattered mirrors on her way to a door at the end of the dark and cobweb-ridden hallway. Hesitating slightly, she opened the door and peered inside. A portrait hung on the wall, the canvas ripped presumably by the Beast's claws. She only examined it briefly before a dim pink light caught her attention. She walked into the center of the destroyed room toward the only light visible in the murky black. A rose, suspended on nothing, floated over a table and was covered by a clear glass cap. She moved slowly forward and lifted the cover, placing it on the ground and exposing the rose. She reached out to touch it, marveling at its beauty in the midst of so much dark and chaos…

Suddenly, with a swish of fabric and a furious growl, the Beast rushed into the room from the balcony and slammed the lid back over the precious rose.

"Why did you come here?" He demanded, furious, blue eyes blazing.

"I'm sorry…" Belle said, backing away, terrified of the pent up anger in the large creature.

"I warned you never to come here!" He roared, advancing on her, claws and teeth bared, beginning to crouch in an animalistic stance.

"I didn't mean any harm…" Belle whimpered, shying away from the Beast.

"Do you realize what you could have done?" He shouted, and began to tear at their surroundings in a blind fury.

"Please, stop! No!" Belle cried, and turned to run but found herself backed into a corner with the raging Beast becoming angrier and angrier. He lashed out at her, barely missing her as she dodged out of his way. Another wayward swipe caught her on the shoulder, tearing her dress and whirling her around like a top. She crashed into a dresser with a cry of pain.

"Get out! GET OUT!!!" The Beast bellowed and threw a chair at her. It struck her slender legs and she fell again, this time finding herself in the doorway. Before the Beast could hurl another object at her, she took to her feet and ran, limping, from the lair.

Her terrified gasps echoed endlessly around the Beast's room as she fled. The room was now eerily still. All that could be heard as the echoes faded were the Beast's breaths as his rage ebbed into a deep guilt. In despair, he took his head in his hands but pulled back, startled by a stickiness on his claws. At a closer look, he realized it was blood. Her blood. What had he done? He had just ruined his only chance for freedom. By yelling at her to get out, he had effectively released her from her promise to stay. The girl would soon be out of the castle. He knelt in front of the rose and grudgingly begged for another second chance as silence again fell over the west wing.

Belle staggered blindly through the doors she had so carefully entered before, clutching her bleeding shoulder. She was blinded by pain and slightly concussed from the collision with the dresser. She staggered toward the light at the end of the hallway where the stairs began, but the transition was blurred. She found herself falling all of a sudden and when she struck a step in her headlong fall down the stairs it was almost a relief to collapse into unconsciousness and feel no more pain for a time.

Mrs. Potts, Lumierre and Cogsworth had run to the bottom of the stairs when they heard the Beast roar so ferociously. They were shocked to see Belle stumble out from the doors, obviously dazed and disoriented, and then plummet down the stairs. She struck her head and her body went limp and rolled to a stop, leaving her sprawled on the landing between the wings. The three rushed to her side and were shocked at her injuries. A righteous anger welled up in Mrs. Potts and she had half of a mind to go up those stairs and berate the Beast for what he had done, but the girl had to be attended to first.

Lumierre and Cogsworth called for help while Mrs. Potts examined the girl's injuries. Her shoulder was torn and bleeding from several deep cuts obviously made by the Beast's claws. A small cut on her forehead betrayed her fall. Her ankle was rapidly swelling up and bruises were beginning to form on her shins where the chair had crashed into them. Belle was mercifully unconscious as various objects lifted her body onto a serving cart and carefully transported her back to her room.

Several frustrated furnishings tried to bandage the injuries, but a lack of opposable thumbs was really a hindrance. All Mrs. Potts could do was bathe the open wounds in warm water and pour cold water into the basin in which her ankle was soaking. Belle lay on the floor in the room, still wearing the torn dress. An animated pair of scissors had cut the sleeve off for easier access to her injured shoulder, but there wasn't much more that could be done.

Cogsworth had managed to fill a small leather pouch with snow and ice from outside and he brought it in to place on the girl's swollen ankle. After an extended amount of time, with great effort from every mobile object in the house save the Beast, Belle was finally bandaged up in pieces of fabric cut from a sheet and laid in her bed. More ice had been put on her ankle, which Mrs. Potts feared might be broken, and a cooling salve had been applied to the wounds on her shoulder.

Belle was beginning to wake, very slowly. First the only sign that she was reviving was a flicker of an eyelid or a twitch of a finger. She opened her eyes to find herself lying in a bed, very comfortably. Her head ached but it felt more like a dim memory. She couldn't stand to try to move, she was so tired and so comfortable. She took a moment to look around the room and was surprised to find the majority of the household quietly working on various things around the room. There were some knives cutting strips from a sheet, and a mop and brush cleaning something off of the floor. It looked like blood. Blood?

The memories came back in a rush, prompting a soft moan of pain as Belle realized what had happened. Why had she intruded on the Beast so? That rose must be incredibly important to him. Perhaps she should have turned and run as soon as she saw the anger in his eyes. But how could she have known he would do this? He had never hinted at physically harming her before… why should he do so now? Her reverie was broken as Mrs. Potts came into view. Behind her were Cogsworth and Lumierre. She managed a brave smile at the sight of them, but she could tell that her pain showed through as they looked at her in concern.

"Mademoiselle, please forgive the Master." Cogsworth said softly.

"He… is just confused. I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you." Mrs. Potts added.

Belle looked skeptically at the teapot. If he didn't mean to hurt me, why did he fly into such a rage that he did? She found herself too weak to speak, but Mrs. Potts spoke again.

"He simply cannot control his temper," she said sadly. "But you are safe now, and now that you have woken, we are sure you will be just fine. Please sleep now, dear. You are in good hands."

The irony was lost upon the exhausted girl as she gratefully closed her eyes again and let herself sink into a deep slumber.

From the dark chamber above, the Beast felt uncharacteristically weak. He clutched his mirror tightly. He had watched his servants care for the girl. He saw their difficulty but could not bring himself to face them. To face her. He watched Mrs. Potts speak with the girl. He saw how weak and hurt she was and guilt swamped him in waves, bringing stinging tears to his eyes. They asked her to forgive him? How could she? How could anybody forgive such a horrible, uncalled-for attack? He watched her sleeping face, all traces of pain had vanished and even though her face was bruised and cut, she was incredibly beautiful in his eyes. He would earn her trust back. He would earn her forgiveness. He had to. Something inside him had changed; the ice had broken. Because of her, he was beginning to feel… emotions. Like guilt. It must be repaired.