Chapter Text
The first thing he knew was the taste of dirt, blood, and rust. Only the rust made sense.
With a groan, Heisenberg sat up as much as his body would let him. He ended up in a strange sort of plank, knees digging into the ground around him.
A thin fog had rolled in making it harder to see his surroundings though not impossible. He was in a field of damp grass, some spaces completely bare except for filthy puddles. Turning his head, he could see the chain-link fence behind him, a decrepit brick building just beyond that.
His factory.
He was in front of his factory. That's right. He had been fighting that fucking Winters twink and…
He had died.
But he was here. Not sure of anything, he flexed his fingers just to feel them move. They moved as commanded and Heisenberg was convinced he was in fact alive. At least, as alive as he could be wherever the fuck he was.
Legs not quite working, he stood best as he could. Holding out his hand, he reached for his hammer knowing it could provide some support while he regained his strength.
Nothing happened.
Frowning, he reached again, feeling for the metal of his favorite weapon. Again nothing happened. Feeling more exposed than if he had been naked, Heisenberg half-walked, half-crawled along the ground in search of his hammer.
The tool was about thirty yards off, covered in other scraps of metal that had fallen in his fight with Winters. It shouldn’t be too difficult to clear. Raising a hand to sweep it away, Heisenberg was surprised to find that once again nothing happened.
Fine. He would just clear it himself.
It took some effort but his strength had come back to him just enough that he was able to do it. When he pulled on his hammer, though, another unpleasant surprise greeted him. It wasn’t that he couldn’t lift it, just that it took far more strength than anticipated. Going anywhere without his hammer seemed ridiculous but holding onto it with the amount of strength it required now was going to be equally ridiculous. Resigning himself to the situation, he left the weapon where it lay.
What was going on? It was as if everything he had been before had left him. No sooner than the thought hit him than he closed his eyes to focus in on the spot where the Cadou was. Years of horrid dreams and experimentation had shown him exactly how to feel Miranda's little monster within him.
A cold chill went through his spine as he realized nothing was there.
For the first time since he was a young child, Heisenberg was a normal human. Fragile, mortal, and weak. Once again he felt vulnerable and exposed. Doubling over he tried not to vomit though the turning in his stomach made it difficult. He spat several times to get the taste of bile from his mouth and wiped his lips clean. The sensation faded and he was able to stand again.
So this was being human. As long as he had wished for the return of his humanity, Heisenberg wasn’t quite ready for the circumstances the miracle occurred in. At the very least, he would have liked a forewarning or a weapon to protect himself.
It was as he was reflecting on the dangers normal mortals faced that he realized the absence of a usually constant sound: the snarl of lycans. Almost holding his breath he listened, trying to see if he could pick it up over the soft sound of the wind through the mountains. When a sound came to him, it wasn’t snarls. Instead, it was cheers. Laughter. Singing. Sounds that didn’t make sense to be coming from the village yet were echoing across the valley anyway.
Not sure what else he could learn staying among the wreckage before his home, it seemed the only option was to investigate what had become of the village. Heisenberg grabbed what once was maybe a bracer for one of the machines, now just a long pole of iron. The height and weight were just enough he could lean upon it for support and wield it as a weapon if attacked.
Wishing he had a cigar to cut the nerves, the now human lord made his way down the hill and towards the Village of Shadows.
---
The world felt so much bigger as she moved along the stone bridge to the village. Knees still weak, Alcine felt even more unsteady by every structure she passed, unable to remember them ever as being as tall as she now found them. Doorways that once required her to fold to move through now towered above her. Halls that were once cramped felt like they went on for miles.
Even her favorite dress was suddenly too big. With a pang of regret, she had to cut into the once pristine white fabric to make it fit. Feeling more like a child playing dress up than the proud Lady Dimitrescu, she had made her way down from the tower where she had awoken and to the bridge of the castle.
She could remember her death, remember the cold feeling of her skin turning into crystal. Yet here she was, walking on two perfectly functional feet in a sad, makeshift toga. Her claws no longer extended, her height now that of a more average woman, and the craving for blood had ceased to burn on her tongue. Every breath she took told her she was alive but the loss of her once grand self had her wondering if she wasn’t in fact in Hell.
A mist had crept into the village while she was...what? Dead? Asleep? It seemed foolish to try and figure out the proper term now but knowing the proper word for something felt like one of the few comforts she had left. Deciding unconscious was the most appropriate, Alcina began to look around, hoping to find some sense in what lay ahead of her.
The great statue of the Shield Maiden at the center of town served as a marker she could center herself on. Her feet were beginning to burn from the cold ground beneath them, her shoes having been discarded as they simply didn’t fit anymore. Alcina ignored it, focusing simply on getting to the statue. Only when she reached the splendid maiden’s feet did she rest.
Around her villagers were beginning to emerge from the simple buildings that made up their homes and businesses. They too looked confused but less shaken than she felt. As they began to recognize their loved ones the men and women called out to each other, rushing into each other's arms. Joyful sobs and singing began to fill the air as families embraced, lovers kissed, and children began to play.
Alcina sat alone.
For once in her life, Alcina didn’t know what to do. Feeling like a lost child, she looked around to see if she might find Mother Miranda or even one of her siblings. Hell, she would greet Heisenberg himself with a warm embrace if he would only tell her what was going on. Her searching, much to her dismay, was in vain. All of the faces around her were those of people she barely recognized and cared little for.
Feeling like she’s just swallowed coal, Alcina tried to swallow but found her throat to dry. When was the last time she cried? Decades ago. A pang of guilt went through her as she realized she hadn’t even managed tears when she found the remains of her daughters. The rage she felt for Winters had been so consuming she assumed she would have time later to properly mourn.
Her daughters, oh her poor girls. Were their remains still in the castle? In her confusion and stupor after waking up she hadn’t even thought to check. Standing, she found within herself a new determination to move, to make right her greatest failing as a-
“Mother?”
The voice was high and light, far too small to belong to a grown woman. Yet something deep within her very soul told Alcina to look towards the source.
A small girl, perhaps 8 or 9, began running towards Alcina. The black dress she wore was ragged, having been hastily cut to fit the now much tinier body wearing it. Several times she almost tripped on the fabric but her determination to reach Alcina was as undeniable as the bright eyes and brunette locks framing her pale face.
“Mother!”
Words failing her, Alcina could only open her arms as Cassandra, her Cassandra, rushed into her embrace. Yes, she was smaller, younger now but a mother recognizes her children no matter how they appear. She recognized her daughters no matter their form.
Tears freely streamed down her cheeks and she held her daughter close. “Oh, Cassandra! My Cassandra!” she sobbed, pulling away only to look at her daughter once more. Nothing would tear her gaze away from the miracle in front of her. That is until she heard the other shouts.
“Mother!”
“Oh, Mother!”
Looking up, Alcina saw two more little girls, similarly dressed but with red and blonde hair, rushing to join their sister. Alcina was too overcome to speak and merely fell into more sobs as her arms opened wider to allow Bela and Daniela entrance into her embrace.
“We didn’t know where you were!”
“And we’re so tiny now, Mother!”
“You’re smaller too, Mother!”
“What happened?”
“Where are we?”
“I’m cold!”
“Can we go home?”
The last question came from Bela once she had some reprieve from their mother’s kisses. Alcina looked down at the three and found herself suddenly unable to speak. Never in her life, even before coming to this village, had she known such joy. Her fears that she had found Hell were long forgotten as she looked into the eyes of her little angels, her own miracles.
When at last she composed herself, Alcina stood and took Cassandra and Daniela’s hands in her own, gesturing for Bela to take the hand of Daniela. Instead the child grabbed hold of the ragged edge of her mother’s skirt, looking up for approval. With a chuckle, Alcina gave her a nod and began to move her small brood back in the direction of Castle Dimitrescu.
“Yes, my darlings. We’re together again and together we can stay.”
Together they walked, a Mother Duck and her little ducklings, back to their home. With the small hands of her daughters in her hands and the tug of Bela on her skirt, a strange, wonderful feeling overcame Alcina. She had been their mother before, of course. This felt different though. This time they were children. She could actually raise her daughters. Her beautiful, incredible daughters.
She could be their mother. She was their mother.
As she walked with her brood towards the now warming entrance of her castle, one last came to Alcina and, with it, tears of joy.
“What’s wrong, Mother?” Daniela asked, giving her hand a little squeeze.
“Nothing, my dear. I’m just happy, that’s all.”
How could she explain the feeling to her girls? Maybe they knew the hunger she did but they didn’t know the loneliness. The fear that one was living only to be forgotten long after they were gone.
As she looked down at her daughters, taking in their smiles and the adoration in their eyes, Alcina felt one thing she couldn’t remember feeling once in her life.
For the first time, Alcina was full.
---
For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Salvatore felt no pain.
He was uncomfortable. The stink of mud and muck filled his nostrils and he had to gasp to get a breath without inhaling dirty water, but he wasn’t in pain. There was no acidic bile begging to get out. His lungs didn’t burn with the struggle to breathe from being out of the water too long. The weight of those awful boils were no longer crushing down upon his back.
In fact, after sitting up and taking a few clumsy steps out of the swampy bank he had woken in, Salvatore found he could move freely without any aches or pinches. He looked at his hands, making sure he was in human form rather than fish. Sure enough, ten fingers attached to normal palms lay before him.
There was something odd about it all, though. Fingers that had once been long and spindly were now small, almost chubby. Looking past them, he was surprised to see that first of all, he was completely naked. More striking, though, his body appeared smaller and overall fuller.
Confused and needing answers, he moved through the muck until he came to a place where the water was clear. He almost screamed as he saw his reflection.
The round, pale face that looked back at him was free of boils and sores, of course, but also free of age. Cheeks round and rosey framed the mouth full of small baby teeth. Blue eyes looked in confusion as those same somewhat chubby hands reached up to feel through the thick dark hair that now sat on his head.
This was him. This was definitely his body. But it was far, far younger than he remembered being. In fact, studying the reflection, he couldn’t have been more than five.
A smothering panic began to build in him. Salvatore forced himself to take deep breaths, trying not to focus on how much easier it was to do so without the swim bladder pressing in on his lungs. Limbs that felt too small and normal to be his moved him away from the water and towards the village. Realizing he was naked, he grabbed a stray tarp from the mud as he moved along the path.
He had to find Mother. He knew she wouldn't be happy with him losing his Rose Flask. She probably already knew. Memories of his body bursting as he wailed for her help seared through Salvatore’s mind. Mother Miranda had to have known of his failure and that’s why she had left him to be hurt over and over again until he fell apart.
Eyes began to burn with tears and snot threatened to bubble from his nose. He had to find Mother, had to apologize for his failure. Maybe she could forgive him. Maybe she’d love him now that he was small.
Moving through the village, Salvatore became aware of just how many people were out and gathering. Self-consciousness caused him to pull the tarp tighter around him. In the past the villagers hadn’t exactly liked the sight of him. He also worried that without the tarp one of his siblings would see him all sobbing, snotty and small. The last thing he needed was Heisenberg teasing him for being a literal cry baby now.
Worst fears almost were realized as he saw Alcina sitting by the central statue, holding several small girls. Salvatore was tempted to go to her with hopes that she would hold him just as lovingly. He even started to take a few steps towards her when he realized how stupid that idea would be. Once again, Moronic Moreau was walking right into the traps his siblings set so they could laugh at him.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he turned his back on his older sister and tried to resume his search for Mother Miranda. Soon the tears became too blinding and Salvatore had no choice but to sit down. Curling up with knees pressing against his forehead, he started to sob.
Crying had never been new to him. Alone in the reservoir, a good sob session was often the only thing he could do to bring himself comfort. Feeling the salt on his cheek and the heaving hiccup breaths in his chest felt normal to him. Perhaps it was the only thing he could expect to know in this new life. Perhaps he was always doomed to be alone and in pain, even if it was just emotional pain this time.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
The voice wasn’t one he recognized but it was so gentle that Salvatore couldn’t help but look up. Tears still blurred his vision but he could make out just enough to see it was a woman kneeling before him. She wasn’t Mother Miranda, but she looked kind. Despite fear telling him not to, he decided to trust the woman.
“I can’t find my mommy.”
The voice that came from him was so small and pathetic he expected the woman to laugh. Instead she sighed and pulled him into her soft, warm arms.
“Oh, you poor dear” she said, cradling him close. “Out here alone and without clothes. You must be terrified.”
Salvatore couldn’t remember the last time someone spoke to him so kindly. He was almost more afraid of the gentleness than he would have had she started shouting at him. Still, with a sniffle, he nodded against her.
The woman used her shawl to wipe away some of the dirt and grime from his face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Salvatore,” he replied, wiping some of the snot from his nose.
The woman smiled - such a warm sight - and nodded. “All right, Salvatore. Why don’t we look for your mother together?”
“Okay…”
He expected the woman to set him down, to make him walk. Instead she kept him held in her arms, secure and safe against her chest. He clung to her as she stood and began to walk through the village.
“If you see her, you let me know, all right?”
Salvatore just nodded. As strange as it was, he was feeling comfortable in this woman’s arms. He was content just being held, being...loved? Is this what love felt like?”
They hadn’t been walking long when a man called out, “Una! What are you doing?”
The woman stopped and turned to face the man now approaching them. He looked nice, like one of the heroes in the old movies that would play on his television.
“Isaac. This little one can’t find his mother. We’re looking for her,” Una told her husband.
Isaac studied Salvatore, making him feel uncomfortably seen. Shyness taking over, he curled further into his tarp for protection from the man’s gaze.
“Hmmm. Can’t say I’ve seen him before. Are you sure he’s from here?”
“Where else would he be from?”
“I don’t know. I’m just saying, it seems….fortunate. Miraculous even.” Isaac was smiling now, reaching to brush hair back from Salvtore’s head. “He’s a handsome little boy. The sort we’ve always wanted.”
‘“Hush! That’s sinful talk and you know it,” Una said, though there was a small smile on her lips. Softly she added, “I did so wish for a little boy.”
Pretending he didn’t hear, Salvatore cuddled closer against the woman. He liked the feel of her arms around him, his cheek cuddled against her chest. Even his real mother hadn’t held him this way. Life had always been cold and rough as the seas. His relationships were no exception. Now, though, he felt safe, secure. As if on a ship that had found safe harbors at last.
Looking down at him again, Una said, “All right, Salvatore, we’ll keep looking for your mother. But if we can’t find her, maybe I can be your mother. My husband would be more than happy to be your father. Would that be all right?”
For a moment, he considered telling her no. Years and years of serving under Mother Miranda had him feeling like he was betraying her just by looking at this new woman. The feeling passed, though, as he remembered that Mother Miranda had never held him like this. Now, he just wanted to feel comforted and safe.
“Okay, mommy,” he said, resting his head happily against her shoulder.
Una let out a soft, choked sound. When he looked up, Salvatore could see she was starting to cry.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, worried that once again he had ruined everything.
Shaking her head, Una pressed her lips to his hair in a soft kiss.”Nothing, Salvatore. I just...I feel blessed. That’s all.”
“Me too,” Isaac said, moving closer.
In a surprise Salvatore found himself pressed into a hug between the two adults. When was the last time he had been held, no, loved like this? In the arms of this man and woman, so eager to have him as their own child, Salvatore found himself crying once again. This time not out of fear or self pity, but instead out of joy.
“Sal? Are you all right?” Una asked, shifting so she could look at him.
Looking back up at her, Salvatore smiled for the first time in a very, very long time. “Yes, mommy. Can we go home now?”
With another choked sob, Una nodded. “All right, dear one. We can go home.”
With her husband, Una abandoned the idea of finding this child’s mother. Salvatore didn’t mind, clinging to his new mother with a happiness he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. Thoughts and memories of his old life began to fade. They weren’t important now. He had the chance to be a simple, happy child. More importantly, he had the chance to have the mother he had always wanted.
Salvatore was loved.
---
It wasn’t being alone that frightened Donna. It was being alone without Angie.
She had searched the house for well over an hour, terrified the entire time she would encounter Winters again and those awful scissors. While relieved her fear wasn’t realized, a new fear took its place as she realized how quiet the manor was. Without the familiar high pitched sound of her only companion, it felt silent as the tomb her parents were buried in.
Feeling smothered, Dona moved to the front door with the walls serving as a support. The outside didn’t offer much more comfort than the house but at least she could now breathe.
The air was cool and damp with a mist that felt all too familiar to her. The garden looked mostly the same, though her special flowers were now missing from their beds. Also missing were the bodies that had hung from her trees. The manor and its grounds were simply a normal house upon a hill now.
It was still so quiet and empty.
Taking a deep breath, Donna called out, “Angie?”
Her voice sounded pathetically small. If she didn’t know any better, what she called out hadn’t been more than a whisper. Angie always heard her, though, no matter where she was.
“Angie! Can you hear me?”
No response came.That terror that came with the isolation began to build again. Clumsily she moved through the lawn, looking around every tree and stone for a sign of her companion. When that failed she started calling out for the others.
“Mother Miranda?”
Nothing
“Karl! Alcina! Please, I’m frightened!”
Nothing.
“Moreau…”
Donna was alone and the realization brought her to her knees. She removed her veil to dab at her tears as she quietly wept. In doing so, she discovered the growth that had taken over her eye was gone. The space around the eye was normal as well. Did that mean her Cadou was gone? What did that mean for Angie? The possibilities had her weeping more.
A sound wafted through the trees and into her garden. It was so soft that at first she didn’t hear it over her crying. Once she caught it, though, it was surprising enough that she stopped crying so she could listen.
Music.
Somewhere over the hill, appearing to come from the village, was joyful music. There were other people out there which meant maybe she wasn’t alone after all. If she could get to the village, maybe she could find her siblings, Mother Miranda, or, hopefully, Angie.
A timid sort of determination settling in, Donna stood and began heading down the path towards the village. Halfway along she realized she had forgotten her veil. She naked without it but her need to find the others, to just be around someone was too strong. The world would just have to see her face for the first time in a very long time.
The next barrier came in the form of the bridge. Donna had crossed it before, of course, but always with Angie by her side. Angie would hold her tight as she stepped along the wooden boards, distracting her from any terrifying thought that could enter her mind. Now the old bridge lay before her, swaying slightly in the breeze with mist blocking the other side.
Donna was going to have to cross it alone.
Terror seized her to the point she almost gave up. It was the thought of Angie that had her stepping onto that first wooden plank.
“If she’s in the village, she’s alone too.”
Another step greeted with a creak of the wood.
“She can’t be alone. She needs me.”
More steps. Once she swore the wood was about to give out from under her. Her hands gripped into the rough rope to the point they burned. When her weight held, she continued taking her steps.
“I’m coming, Angie. You won’t be alone. I’ll find you. Just be okay. Please, be okay.”
It took the snapping of a twig on the ground for her to realize she had made it to the other side.
Relief overwhelmed her to the point she had to sit down and take time to cry. It was a short cry, enough that she felt the terror leave her and she could stand again. Her mission returning to her mind, Donna stood and continued her trek to the village.
The source of the music was a group of villagers playing humble instruments in the town square. Others surrounded them, laughing, dancing, and singing. Dona could see lovers embracing, children playing, and people celebrating their return to...well, wherever this was. What she did not see was Angie.
She knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. She had hoped, though, that her doll would be running the streets just as eagerly looking for her. Could she run anymore? Donna didn’t want to think of that.
Hands clasped together for comfort, Donna began to move through the crowd. Like on the bridge, she used her mission to keep her focused on something other than the fear. The faces around her were mostly strange.
Then she saw Alcina.
She didn’t recognize her at first. Her older sister appeared shorter now. In fact, were they to stand next to each other, Donna was certain they would be close in height. But there was no denying that regal air Alcina always carried herself with or the way she doted upon the three little girls walking with her.
Donna started to move towards her sister, eager for some sort of help or comfort. She stopped, though, as that hideous anxiety built up inside her. Alcina would only be annoyed by her. They were all clearly going through something strange and her sister now had three children with her. Donna would just be a needy nuisance, just like she always was.
Stepping back, she continued her way into the village to try and continue her search for her Angie.
Donna moved through the village until her feet began to ache. It wasn’t just the physical pain that brought her to a stop either. Those tears began to well up the longer she went without finding her doll. Unable to take the pain, she finally settled onto a bench and let the tears come.
Maybe this was the way it was always supposed to be. Maybe she was just meant to be alone. It was a terrible though but one that haunted her often. Now, though, it felt like the truth.
“DONNA!”
At first she couldn’t see where the screech had come from. A couple holding their son, a muddy boy wrapped in a tarp, walked by and obstructed her view. Once they and the other villagers in her way had moved, Donna could see the young woman running towards her.
“DONNA!” the woman shrieked again, rushing over to her.
The woman was tiny, at most 5 feet tall with a petite frame. Hair so light it almost appeared silver framed her round face in ringlets. Her skin seemed to be darker on the upper left side, almost like a birthmark, and her dark eyes were almost disturbingly wide. Clothed in a simple white dress, the woman moved towards Donna on awkward limbs. The high pitch of her voice and the energy with which she moved could only be one thing.
“Angie?”
Angie threw herself into Donna’s arms. Luckily instinct kicked in and Donna caught her dear doll. Only she wasn’t a doll. The skin beneath her fingers was definitely human, soft and warm and alive.
“I’ve been looking all over for you!” Angie exclaimed. “I woke up and you weren’t there. And I was different! I was in this weird, smelly card and this fat guy looked at me and was like, ‘Go on, find your Donna’. And I was like, don’t gotta tell me twice! So I got off and started running but my legs are all different. I mean, I’m all different. Am I bigger? I feel like I’m bigger. That or I’m smaller. What’s going on?”
Unable to stop herself, Donna started laughing.
“What?! What’s so funny?” Angie grabbed at Donna’s face so she had to look at her dear doll.
Finding her voice, Donna replied, “I just...I’m confused. But so happy.”
Angie smiled, a strange smile given she had actual lips now. “You are? Good! I’m happy too. I was worried I wouldn’t find you or that that Ethan jerk had gotten to you first. I swear, if I ever see his face again I’m gonna-”
Donna cut Angie off with a tight hug. For the longest time, Angie had been her only friend. Her only companion, really. And now she was here, with her and alive.
“I’m just so happy you’re here, Angie. I was afraid I would have to be alone.”
“What?!” Angie exclaimed as if this were the most ridiculous thing that could have been said on this strange day. “I would NEVER let that happen! Ever!”
Again, Donna started to cry. This time, it was out of joy. She held Angie tight, listening to her tale of what she had seen through the village, but really that didn’t matter. Angie could tell her anything and she would still be happy.
Her dearest friend was safe and real. That fear that she was doomed to always been alone was smothered by the new truth she had found. Angie was here and she still wanted to be around Donna. Never again would she have to watch those she loved abandon her or run away.
Never again would Donna Beneviento have to be alone.
---
The walk to the village didn’t have Heisenberg feeling his true age but he wasn’t feeling as spry as he had prior to this….whatever this was. Maybe it was the effect of waking up after having been dead but he found he was tiring more easily and having to take breaks on his treks across the bridge and into the village.
The man who was so used to moving, for whom sleep was a luxury, was tired.
He tried not to dwell on it. He didn’t want to think of what downsides there were to this situation. As long as Miranda wasn’t here, he’d take whatever came his way.
The first thing he saw had him worried he wouldn’t be granted that sort of respite. Donna was sitting on a bench not far from him. If she was here, that meant the others would be too. Did that mean Miranda was here?”
His fear ebbed away as he saw Donna was holding a woman that looked surprisingly like Angie. His youngest sister’s deepest wish had always been for her dolls to be real, to be actual friends for her to have. That seemed to have come true. And if Donna’s wish had come true, why couldn’t his?
Not wanting to disturb what appeared to be a happy reunion, Heisenberg continued his exploration of the village. He hadn’t seen most of these villagers before. The isolation of his factory made it to where it’d be a miracle if he did recognize anyone. If they paid him any mind at all they would likely recognize him but for now they seemed too caught up in their own rejoicing to see him. That was fine. He didn’t want to be seen right now.
Of course, even in this strange paradise he couldn’t get his wish. As he entered the town square his eyes locked on those of Alcina. Thankfully she was walking away from where he stood but her amber eyes found his just the same. From the slight frown on her face he knew she recognized him and prepared himself for whatever acidic look she planned to cast his way.
Alcina smiled. It was small, almost bashful. She held his gaze for a few moments before nodding at him. Somewhat stunned by the sudden kindness from his eldest sister, Heisenberg nodded back. Alcina’s smile widened as she looked down at the little girls around her. Attention fully returned to them, she led them away from the village, away from Heisenberg.
Tension he didn’t quite know he was holding was released. A thought, dangerous yet wonderful, filled his mind. Donna had Angie and Alcina had her girls. What else could this dream world restore?
“Anton!”
The shout came from so close to him that Heisenberg jumped. Turning towards the source, he watched as a wiry woman ran toward a dark haired man who moved in a clumsy fashion suggesting he wasn't used to human limbs. He looked at the woman in confusion until warm recognition grew in his soft brown eyes. He said nothing, just pulled her close as both began to sob joyfully.
Heisenberg recognized the woman. Anger began to boil in his stomach as he studied her. For a moment he considered going over and bashing her head in against one of the fence posts or the wall of a nearby building. He wanted to yell - no, scream - at her for all the torment and suffering he had caused him. Did she even realize what she had cost him?
The urge faded almost as soon as it began. Now he just felt tired. Exhausted from all the anger and hatred that he always carried with him. Perhaps it was the lack of his Cadou, but now the weight felt completely draining.
Barely giving the couple a second look, Heisenberg turned and moved further into the village. He needed to see if he could find who he was looking for.
For the better part of the hour he searched but to no avail. The village was strange to him, not a place he was used to wandering. Several times he turned a corner only to find he had walked in a complete circle. Growing more frustrated, he turned to see a familiar caravan standing at the end of the lane he had wandered down.
“Of fucking course you'd be here.”
The Duke laughed, pulling a small box off a shelf. “Of course. I can be found wherever stories and paying customers gather. Would you care for a cigar, Lord Heisenberg? Free of charge!”
The Duke had never been his favorite but the thought of a nice cigar to ease his nerves was too tempting to resist. With a sigh, Heisenberg nodded and held out his hand. The Duke offered the box and Heisenber took his pick. Trimming and lighting it, he found the familiar rich and bitter taste had a soothing effect on his nerves.
“Thanks,” he grumbled, not wanting to be completely rude.
“Of course, of course!” The Duke puffed on his own cigar, following Heisenberg’s gaze around the square. From where his caravan sat, they really had a good view of everyone gathering beneath them. “I’d offer you more but I have a feeling that what you want isn’t something to be found on my shelves.”
“Fuck you,” Heisenberg grumbled back, though the venom he usually had wasn’t there.
Chuckling and unphased as ever, the Duke gestured towards the gathered crowd. “I think most everyones’ out and here now. Have a look!”
It burned him to do what the Duke was suggesting but it was also exactly the only thing he wanted to do. Spectacled eyes looked around, surveying the crowd in the hopes of finding the woman the villagers called his Bride, even though he never had the chance to ask her to be.
Out of all the faces that he saw, hers was not among them.
He tried not to feel too disappointed. Her happy ending has always been to just Rest In Peace, to have an end to the torment her second life brought her. To see her walking through the village square would be to see her trapped once more. Yet he never wanted to see a sight more.
Selfish habits died hard.
“I haven't seen her.”
Pulled from his thoughts, Heisenberg looked at the Duke sharply. “What?”
“Your bride. I haven't seen her either.”
“Who said I was looking?” He grumbled, biting into the cigar.
“Who else would you be looking for, my Lord?”
Heisenberg grumbled something back in response, a profane mix of German and Romanian.
The Duke laughed again. “With how many are finding lost loves and family, it was only natural to assume you would be seeking the same.’
Heisenberg simply grunted in response.
“Perhaps your factory will have some answers.”
“Perhaps you should mind your own damn business,” he snapped back, anger and frustration rising in him again.
Again the Duke laughed, putting out his cigar. “Where would the fun be in that?”
With a sigh, Heisenberg took one last puff of the cigar before dropping it down into the dirt, snuffing it out with his boot. “Thanks for the smoke,” he said simply.
“Any time, Lord Heisenberg. Of course, next time will cost you.”
“Figures.”
He didn’t wait for a response, moving away from the caravan. The Duke’s laughter echoed behind him as he walked back towards his factory. While he didn’t want to admit it, the intrusive shopkeeper had a point. If there was ever one place that made sense to him, it was his factory.
The walk back went easier than the walk to the village. Maybe the smoke had done him good as he found he had more strength than when he had first awoken in the field. Soon the stone building loomed before him, as welcoming as any home he had known could be.
There was damage done, some wings blown out. Heisenberg could remember the explosion that had destroyed his metal army. The bombs had been placed by the same jackass that took her from him…
That was a thought he didn’t want to linger on. Without his Cadou, he didn’t know if he could withstand the surges of anger such thoughts would bring with them. Instead he focused on moving through the entryway and past the rubble that filled it. It took time and he had to pause at least once to regain his strength, but soon he made his way up to where his bedroom sat. To his relief, this section of the factory appeared to be mostly intact.
Moving down the eerily silent halls, he stopped just outside the door to his room. It was closed, no sounds to be heard behind it. To his own surprise, Heisenberg paused before opening it. As if in doing so he would ruin everything like the hero in one of Alcina’s stupid Greek plays. Feeling stupid, he forced himself to take a deep breath and opened the door.
Heisenberg wasn’t sure what he expected to find but what lay before him was an empty room.
“Hello?” he called out, as if someone was simply out of sight and would respond.
Nothing.
That was that, then. The factory was empty and he was alone in it. It was for the best, probably. Without Miranda here to tell him what to do, he would probably be out of this shithole once his full strength returned to him. Having to consider the wants of someone else would just be a burden. A burden he didn’t want to admit he longed for.
Not sure what else he should do, Heisenberg went to his swivel chair and had a seat. Cigars and whiskey were at the ready so why not make use of them? He lit the cigar first, nestling it between his lips before pouring himself the whiskey. With a heavy exhale, he leaned back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling.
Yes, it was better this way. Now he could focus on what he wanted next. He wasn’t like Alcina or Donna. He didn’t have someone who needed him to stay here. And hadn’t that always been the goal? Be free of Miranda so he could go out in the world and do what he wanted for the first time in his fucking life?
Thoughts of travelling the world, of places he wanted to see and inventions he wanted to try filled his mind. Finally, the whiskey and exhaustion won out. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift off to sleep. With Miranda and the monstrosity within him gone, maybe he could finally have good dreams. If nothing else, the knowledge he was finally free assured him that any sleep would be peaceful.
For the first time in what felt like centuries, Karl Heisenberg rested.