Chapter Text
Chapter 1
It was annoying, irritating and completely unfair, the easy way Lumière adjusted to his new candlestick form.
Cogsworth watched him from the side, doing his best to ignore the insistent ticking that accompanied him everywhere he went now. Whether he was doing his job, ordering everybody around, talking to their Master or oh-so-unsuccessfully denying the grip of fear on his insides, he ticked. And tocked.
He was a clock now, and he didn't know – was starting to lose hope – that he, that they, would ever become human again. But there were always his duties and he had his job to do; he couldn't simply curl up in his bed, pull the covers over his head and weep for things lost, nor could he disappear in some dark corner to indulge in a big, or even small, bout of self-pity. He had responsibility, he couldn't just break. But on some days...
It was going to be fine, he told himself. He would get used to this. After all, it wasn't so much different from before, right? There was glass and wood in place of flesh now, and his heartbeat was replaced by the steady ticking and clicking of the cogs, and he didn't have any hair and his moustache served as clock-hands, but it was still essentially him, right? Right.
Only he wasn't so sure about that any more. He was starting to forget what being human had meant, what it had been like, and he was scared, and there wasn't anybody to assure him everything was going to be fine, however empty those words would be. There had been no one for a long time. His family was dead or far away, and there was simply no time for a spouse, nor a lover. It was kind of pathetic, now he thought about it.
That was why Lumière annoyed him so (at least it was the main reason these days, pushing all those hundreds of other reasons to the background for the moment), and that's why he started to avoid the exuberant candlestick recently: because the luminous idiot didn't seem to need such assurances. He was so obviously still Lumière, chasing everything even remotely female, being nosy, and laughing all the time, at the stupidest things... Loved by everybody. Cogsworth haven't laughed in a long time, ever since this whole predicament began. He just couldn't. Things changed after the spell, and for him, there was no reason for laughter anymore.
Even before... He had never been popular. In fact, he knew he was quite disliked. But he did have a few friends. His brother to whom he wrote every few months, or Mrs. Potts, for example. But his brother lived over 20 miles away, and the motherly teapot was too busy taking care of her children and everybody else in the castle, including their Master, and didn't have time to talk to him like before. And as a clock, he didn't need to eat, none of them did (that's not to say they couldn't, and he would really rather not go there, thank you very much), except for the Master, who was now refusing to do so and getting his meals God-knows-where, and expressly forbidden them to cook for him, to even talk to him, in fact. And so Cogsworth had no valid excuse for stopping by the kitchens. And the last thing he wanted was to add to her trouble, especially in these difficult times, so they didn't have much contact lately. Or, well, none at all.
Truth to be told, he wouldn't have minded that so much Before, because Before, he had had Lumière to talk to, to bicker with and grumble on. At least, Cogsworth had always believed they were something like friends. Yes, they argued all the time, but Lumière was funny if he wanted to be, and he brought life and light to every place he went. His transformation was really quite fitting, if obnoxiously litteral. Cogsworth, on the other hand, was good at being the responsible one and stopping, or at least reining in, the wildest ideas before they were put into action. Usually.
Also, Lumière used to have a bad habit of forgetting his meals, the reason he was so rail-thin, while Cogsworth's bad habit was exactly the opposite, which worked out quite well for them both. It had been fun, being together. So much fun, Cogsworth couldn't remember time without Lumière around anymore.
And then they transformed, and all that stopped. The arguments, the joking, the comradeship... That flaming idiot was too busy running around like a child and neglecting his work, and Cogsworth was feeling... well, lonely. Here, he finally admitted it, if only to himself. He was lonely, and scared, and missed all that he had taken for granted before, all that he had considered so normal... before The Change happened. Living these days... hurt. Good thing he didn't sleep, or he didn't know how he would get out of the bed in the mornings.
And really, this was quite enough.
Cogsworth turned sharply on his heels. Work. He had work to do. Duties. The castle would end up in ruin without him. He pushed all those miserable thoughts to the back of his mind, deciding to search for his friend and silently hoping that their next encounter would erase them completely.
He let what used to be his legs lead him through the castle, relying on that strange, instinctive ability to find Lumière anywhere he was that he had developed about a year ago, just after the then man came to work for the Master. He had never questioned it, neither out loud nor quietly for himself, because it was extremely useful, and maybe also because he was worried what he might discover once he did so.
On his way he scolded a couple of maids/feather-dusters that were gossiping instead of dusting and ordered a few footmen/floor-clothes to wash the floor again, as there were still dirty places on it. He pretended not to hear their badmouthing him when they thought he was out of earshot.
“...that pompous arse. Life would be SO much better without him,” he caught, and ignored. He was used to such words, and they never dared to say it to his face anyway. It only meant he was doing his job well.
On his journey through the hallways he caught a flash of light in one of the closets, and quiet giggling sounded from under the barely-opened door. Oh yes! He knew who that was, he knew it very well, an he was looking forward to an argument that was sure to ensue. Cogsworth took a deep breath, prepared to yell and regally stepped closer.
„Ahhh... Lumière… We really shouldn't… what if somebody caught us? We still have work to do...“
„Do not worry, do not worry, ma chérie. Nobody will come... Now let me warm you up a little...“
Another high-pitched giggle, and really, it was unbelievably annoying. They were unbelievably annoying. „Stop it, really. You know that Cogsworth has an uncanny sense when it comes to catching us together, and he is such a prude...“
„Don't think about that stuck up old clock now, ma belle, he is only jealous of us. Think only of me, of my hands, of my mouth, here, and here...“
Cogsworth froze in place. Him, jealous?! Ohhh, when he gets his hands on that idiotic candle! He is going to personally snug off all his flames and wring that stupid ornate neck! How dare he...?! How dare they?!
„Oooh, not there... Lumière... Oh! Ohh... You are right... he is not important... please continue... we don't need him... yes... he is so annoying...“
Not important? Annoying?! Just you wait... I'm going to show you how unimportant I really am! The metal of Cogsworth's fists almost broke from the pressure.
„Yes, ma belle... Oh yes...“
The words were more a moan than an answer, but it stopped Cogsworth cold. For a second even the ticking in the place that used to be his chest quieted. He knew that Lumière didn't mean it, not really... It was just something uttered in the heat of passion, they didn't even know what they were saying... right? He was just being – feeling – overly dramatic, right?
But the words hit something deep inside Cogsworth, something that was quietly breaking for months, something really, really fragile. All his insecurities immediately rushed back. Maybe, with his inhibitions removed by passion, Lumière just said the truth of what was on his mind? That he thought Cogsworth was annoying, unnecessary? That they, he, didn't need him? Nobody? He knew he wasn't much liked, but Cogsworth had always believed he was needed. So... it wasn't like that any more? He shook himself, trying to get rid of the painful, nagging thoughts, to push them away again, but unsuccessfully. He really should just ignore it as something said in the heat of the moment, but that was impossible for some reason.
Then anger finally flooded him, suppressing the hurt for the moment. Alright! If they didn't need him, he didn't have to be here! Why should he destroy his nerves and break his cogs for such an ungrateful band of household items?! For some stupid, cursed, womanizing moron? Because of the Master?
Cogsworth liked their Master, but the truth was, the Master didn't care about things like cleanness or orderliness of his home any more. He didn't even notice the servants since he became the Beast.
Cogsworth deflated. No... they might be right after all. They might just be right. He might not be needed here any more. And if he wasn't useful... What was he good for? The thought caused a little spike of panic inside of him. What would he do?! Where would he go?! Maybe he should just go on like always, continue being alone and despised?
No... no, he couldn't do that anymore. For some reason, he couldn't. No, there was only one thing to do now. He should leave. He turned abruptly the other way, away from the wretched cupboard and it's occupants, and took a few steps. Maybe he should leave the castle... But where would he go? This was he only place he could call his own, even if it did technically belong to the Master. He didn't have any family or friends outside of here, and he was a clock, for God's sake, talking and moving magical clock. Not easy to find a new job in such a shape, not to mention the chance to become human again would be completely lost if he left the castle. He really didn't have anywhere to go. His despair, momentarily lifted by the need for action, returned with a vengeance.
In that moment Cogsworth felt very, very old and very, very worthless.
He moved away from the almost-closed door and the sounds leaking from under it. He turned away from the bustling castle. Nobody was there to see him climbing the stairs, and nobody was there to see him sneak into one of the unused, hidden rooms on the top floor of the tower. And, immerged deep in his depression, Cogsworth was quite sure that even if somebody were there, they wouldn't care.