Ichor And Steel

Chapter Thirty-Six; The Night Is Over

The configuration of such a mechanism was a delicate procedure that carried sleeplessly into the dawn and left a shallow paralysis in Heisenberg's lower spine. He stretched and aided Rose in fixing the heart in the cavity it came from.

"So, difficult question; how in the hell does this work?" Rose asked, her frown digging trenches on her forehead.

Heisenberg smiled. "The short explanation is the one I gave to your father when he lost his hand; his mold creates stems—believe it or not, papa is stronger than us, he is just a little..." he mulled. "...not trained so well but these stems need a case."

"Hm. Without a case, it's like the body without skin?" Rose attempted.

"Yes, almost but let's stick with that. In the end, it just works—

hopefully

—and the mold stems will create whatever they need. The heart is more fragile than a hand, you see; the hand can be left untreated but the heart, like a brain or lung, cannot."

The final step was an electric defibrillator, but one that sent stronger pulses, a machine that could easily fry a human heart and was made like an Einsteinen device; copper bolts and golden and iron casing. Seemingly satisfied, Rose's curiosity faded to concern, and Heisenberg helped her sleep—sorry Ethan, I drugged her tea—and settled in a watcher's position, overlooking the succession of his invention which became delayed well into daylight, when Donna and Moreau had long retired. And the first movement Heisenberg brushed off for being a trick of the eye; his eyelids bore heaviness and head sluggishness. It took Ethan to perform a body-wide spasm, which to him struck his nose with the punch of revived mortality, and a loud crack of bones.

"Holy shit!" Heisenberg shrieked, taking one long leap. Rose surfaced from her groggy fraught and nearly lost her footing coming over. She slapped her hands on the table and waited, both eager for another seizure. It came and passed, Heisenberg prompting Ethan's consciousness with a gentle shoulder shake.

"Is it—is it even working right?" Rose said, struggling for a pulse.

Heisenberg laid his ear to his chest, feeling a ripple of past remorse lift from him and gave her a thumbs up at the sweet sounds, badum, badum, badum, badum. It's working! More startlingly was the sudden light slap Heisenberg got to the face, quickly apologised with a gentler tap. He grabbed his hand, sighing out heavily, but passed Ethan's waking hand to Rose's.

"Dad? Dad—"

Ethan choked and bashed a fist to his chest, heaving in gulps of air, steam and all the scents he cherished. Predictably, his hand tore from Rose's and arms flung around Heisenberg's neck, lassoing tight. He held so frightfully and dear, he nearly thumped off the table hadn't of been for Heisenberg's support, bringing him back up.

"Fucking hell, blondie. You gave me a fright!" Heisenberg wept happily, dampening Ethan's quivering shoulder.

"I thought I was fucking gone! Imsosorry Imsosorry!" he whispered for his hoarse throat would allow not an octave higher. Regrettably, he broke their embrace and fondly glanced at the new face in the room, her presence abroadly familiar. Sunder dithered through him, and he tenderly grabbed her face, squishing and pinching the baby-fat yet to dissolve into adulthood.

"Oh, it's you...oh, it's you! Thank God, it's you!" He exulted vibrantly, hugging her too suddenly. She laid her arms around him and coddled, letting him clutch at her hair. "Imsosorry, imsosorry."

"Dad, it's fine," she said, surprised by herself how comfortable that name rolled off the tongue. Heisenberg rubbed Ethan's ower back, reverently smiling, and Rose took the gesture and parted the hug, teary-eyed out of joy.

"Would you mind getting him some water, please?" Heisenberg gently asked of her to Ethan's dismay. Rose diligently went off, navigating easily though she slowed her pace, feeling the couple's need to converse.

Alone with his friend, Ethan sat with his assistance and laughed, "I need to look after you when you're sick for once."

Heisenberg's smile remained unchanged, and he stroked Ethan's face, the blond falling into the touch, pretending to be oblivious to the hurt he endured upon Heisenberg.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He finally asked, touching his chest once empty now full.

"I wanted you to feel normal...to keep you alive," Heisenberg lamented. He felt at ease enough to let down his hair and shaggily scruff it, allowing Ethan the pleasure as well. "You needed the heart as I couldn't find the one Miranda took from you."

A withering quiet fell heavily onto them, dulling the passion and a subtle depression emerged. Ethan feared he could not touch Heisenberg, withdrawing his arms in a fold and clearing his throat. "Thank you for looking after her," he said, flicking his head to the doorway his daughter had disappeared down.

I wish it were you instead, Heisenberg wanted to say but to be angry at Ethan felt so...wrong. Right then, all he wanted more was to forget the whole drugging incident and just hold him but, suddenly, a barrier reared between. It thickened with each passing second Ethan withheld his true apology and Heisenberg swallowed his emotion, appearing blunt when Rose toddled back in. She broke the ice, inspiring laughter when Ethan struggled to swallow such cold water and it came dribbling down his chin, Heisenberg quick to dab it up. Their warm normality should've returned there when the night blew over, but that evening lingered like muddy storm clouds, refusing to rain until thunder struck. Neither wanted to be thunder.