Chapter Text
Carrying Ethan to his personal quarters was… difficult.
The blonde was adamant about feeling good enough to continue onwards with taking Miranda down and saving his daughter, but every time he would try to walk without the lord’s help, he’d stumble and fall right back into his side. Ethan was stubborn, but it was good that Heisenberg was also stubborn.
It took longer than it should have, but eventually the pair made it to the large elevator. Ethan idly noted that Duke hadn’t made it here yet; it seemed like the perfect spot for him to inhabit. “Seriously, Heis, I’m fine—“
“I don’t give a shit if you’re fine or not,” the lord interrupted, helping Ethan lean against the wall prior to pressing the appropriate buttons, “you need to sit down and take it easy for a while. You’ve been up and at it for hours at this point, you need rest .”
Ethan was about to spit another retort, tell Heisenberg he didn’t need to rest, when suddenly it felt like the world started to spin around him, and like all the blood either rushed to his head or stopped dead in its tracks.
“Woah, Jesus, Ethan!” He heard, and he must’ve fallen forward because since he blinked, the floor was nearly right in his face again. “Fuck, you need to lay down, Papa, you’re burning up.”
The blonde started chuckling, loopy in his highly fevered state, thinking of something he thought so hilariously funny that he just had to say it out loud. “ You’re burning up.”
“ O- kay, yep, you’re definitely sick,” Heisenberg stammered, and the blush on his face must’ve been a figment of Ethan’s fever ridden imagination.
The lord led them out of the elevator the moment the clunky doors opened up, gentle with the blonde.
Again came that feeling like everything was spinning, and a body-shaking tremble rippled through Ethan from boiled head to frozen toes, a sobering drop of lucidity. The blonde shivered, simultaneously a confusing mix of boiling hot and freezing cold. It didn’t help that a block of nausea began to clot his lungs from taking deep enough breaths.
He blinked. And when his eyes opened up again, he was cradled in Karl’s arms, like he was delicate. Karl must’ve been running, his steps felt too hurried and quick for him to be walking. The blonde watched as flickering orange and red lights passed them in a flash, a stark contrast to how dark and damp the factory was. Ethan’s head started pounding against his skull, and suddenly it hurt to keep his eyes open.
“Hey, I need you to stay with me for a second, Winters, hang in there.” It sounded like Karl was out of breath.
Ethan did as he was told to the best of his abilities, raising a shaking, torn apart hand to his head, massaging his temples to ward off the pain. His hair felt damp, with sweat or left over water from the reservoir he had no idea. All he knew was how stuffy the air around him felt, how sticky his clothes were. He shivered again, and he must’ve made a noise because Karl stopped for a moment and looked down at him again.
“We’re almost there, we’ll get you a change of clothes and something to help warm you up with. I need you to stay awake for a little bit longer, can you do that, Papa?” Ethan nodded, his eyes rolling closed as he blinked again. Karl sighed and let him rest this time, despite how reluctant he was.
------
The second Heisenberg stepped foot in his personal quarters, he placed the shivering blonde down on his bed. Christ, he looked miserable.
A moment later, he stripped off his coat and wrapped it around Ethan, not caring for how wet it might become later. The lord pulled his hat from his head and the sunglasses from his face, and went to his wardrobe to find something for the blonde to wear while his clothes were cleaned and dried.
Rummaging around through his newest undershirts, courtesy of Donna, Karl pulled out a large, heathered grey shirt and the softest pair of pants he had. He folded the clothes as neatly as he could, placing them next to Ethan on the bed. Karl spared one last glance to the blonde before wandering out of his room to the hallway, leaving the door ajar.
Heisenberg let out a deep sigh upon exiting the room, staring ahead at the blank wall. He’d never taken care of someone, let alone someone who was sick. What do sick people need? He wondered, tapping back into long forgotten memories of when his real mother took care of him, whether he had caught a cold or the flu.
Chicken noodle soup, Karl recalled; he’d always loved the smell of it, and had made it for himself a few times when he was younger, whenever he missed home. Warm shower, or a bath, and plenty of water, he began a list in his head. Tissues, blankets, towels, maybe a bucket, he paced to his bathroom across the hall, grabbing the items. Shit, his hand. And some disinfectant and gauze.
When he made it back to his bedroom Ethan was still unconscious, shaking, whimpering, and twitching all the while. Slowly, Karl made his way to the bed, holding a small stack of towels, pillows, and blankets, a bucket hanging on his arm. He placed the items on the bed next to the folded clothes before putting a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.
Karl shook the blonde’s shoulder gently, whispering softly to him until he woke with a jolt, eyes wide. “It’s alright Ethan, it’s just me.”
“And that’s supposed to be reassuring?” Ethan teased, his voice rough and laced with exhaustion.
The lord chuckled, “Not unless you make it reassuring. I brought you a change of clothes and some towels to dry yourself off with,” he spoke as softly as he could, his voice nearly a whisper.
“Thanks,” Ethan sighed, “I uh… I might need a little help sitting up steady.”
Karl chuckled harder. “I’ve gotcha, Papa.” The blonde grunted as he sat up, the lord holding on to his shoulders to help. “These’ll be a bit big on you, but they’ll get the job done. I’ll have the clothes you’re wearing now dried off so you’re not stuck wearing a sleep shirt while we murder a woman.”
Now it was Ethan’s turn to laugh. “Thank you, Karl,” he whispered, pulling his jacket from his shoulders with shaking fingers that could hardly bend.
“Need any help, Ethan?” Karl questioned quietly, reaching his hands towards the waist of the blonde’s grey hoodie.
Ethan flushed. “I uh… as much as I’d like t-” he erupted into a coughing fit, clearing his throat roughly before continuing with a much more hoarse voice, “As much as I’d like to tell you to go fuck yourself for that, I… I don’t think I can- physically do much right now. So, uh, yeah, that... t-that might be good. Yeah, I- I think that’ll be- g-good.”
As he finished speaking Ethan leaned back on the pillows behind him, panting and breathing shallowly, eyes sliding shut. The lord moved a hand to rest atop the blonde’s forehead, like he did earlier. And Christ , Ethan was fucking radiating heat. “Ethan, I know you wanna go save Rose as soon as possible, but you need to rest.” Ethan looked like he was about to argue, before Karl grabbed one of his hands and placed it on his own forehead. Ethan’s eyes snapped open when he felt how hot his forehead was. “See? We take care of you first, and then we can go save Rosemary. If how quickly your… stab wounds… healed is a demonstration of your regenerative abilities, you’ll be feeling better in no time, Papa.”
Ethan sighed in frustration. “Fine. Just… only if Miranda can’t get to Rose right now.”
“She’s safe, Ethan. I made that whole contraption myself, I know she’s safe, alright?” Ethan did seem calmer now, more willing to finally take care of himself with the reassurance that Rosemary would be safe and sound. Nothing’s gonna hurt her, he tried to reassure himself further, Feel better and then we can go fix her.
Another shiver wracked through Ethan’s body, his clothes sticking to his skin like the algae from the reservoir, skin burning from the residual acid, bites, and punctures. The blonde could feel himself slipping away from the world again, jolting upright with a feeling like falling, the one you get sometimes before you fall asleep.
“Alright, no more distractions, you need to get out of those fucking clothes, Winters.” Ethan burst out in laughter. The lord rolled his eyes and grinned, reaching down to the waistline of the blonde’s sweater for the second time, succeeding in pulling it up, over, and off of Ethan’s body. He sighed in the nearly instant wave of heat that overtook his body, eyes rolling shut again. “Hey, hey, Ethan, I need you to stay with me for a little bit longer, for real this time,” Ethan grunted in response, “We’ll get you changed and dried off and you can sleep as soon as that’s done, alright, Papa? Just stay with me for another second longer.”
The blonde nodded his head and forced his blurred eyes open again, and felt as he was pulled into the lord’s side, felt his black undershirt peeled from his shivering skin, felt the buckle of his belt become undone, his jeans and socks and shoes peeled away until he was left in nothing but his boxers. Ethan was too exhausted to voice his discomfort with his underwear being peeled away, too, but he didn’t need to; Karl was reaching over to his side and began drying him with a soft, gritty towel, not paying any mind to undressing him completely.
“Th- thanks.”
“Whatever for, Ethan?” Karl mumbled more focused on his task of drying the man leaning into his side than the words coming from his mouth.
“For letting me keep at least some of my dignity.”
A barked out Hah! was all that left Karl’s mouth for a long moment. “You’re welcome, Ethan. Wouldn’t be the greatest host if I stripped you of all of your pride, hm?” Ethan could practically feel the smugness radiating off of the lord.
The rest of the time Karl spent drying the murky reservoir water from Ethan’s skin was relatively silent: Ethan nearly drifted off to sleep, leaning against the lord and having his hair toweled dry gently. It had been a good year or so since Mia stopped showing any form of want from her husband, sleeping as far away from Ethan as possible and moving to the guest room when he’d try to hug or kiss her. Mia had been acting… strangely, to put it lightly, a little while after Rose was born. After months of being starved of any sort of contact with another, suddenly being practically embraced , especially by someone as warm and bulky as Heisenberg, felt fucking wonderful .
“ Ethan. ” The word was quiet, rumbling from Karl’s chest into Ethan’s ear pleasantly.
“...mm?” The blonde hummed curling closer into the warmth thawing his frozen bones.
“I need you to get up for a second, sweetheart, I can’t get these damn pants on you when you’re curled in a ball like a fucking fetus.” Despite the venom in his tone, Karl’s voice remained soft and warm, comforting, welcoming .
Ethan hesitated for a moment. He was warmer and more comfortable than he’d felt in fucking years : would it even be worth sacrificing this moment for a pair of fucking pants ?
Yes , his body decided for him when a freezing shiver vibrated along his bones again.
Ethan lifted himself ever so slightly, pulling the surprisingly soft pair of sweatpants over his legs before collapsing back into the warmth surrounding him.
“...Ethan? You okay, dragul meu?”
“ Yeah ,” the blonde sighed, “Warm, comfortable, I’m fuckin’ peachy. ”
The lord chuckled softly and began to rub soothing circles into Ethan’s flank. “While you rest I’ll make you some chicken noodles, that sound alright, liebling?”
“Mmm…” was the only response he was given before the man laying in his arms drifted off into a comfortable, well needed slumber.
------
Prying Ethan off of him was a struggle, to say the least.
Ethan was as limp as one of Donna’s old dolls, and moved easily without protest in his sleep; but Karl was much more reluctant to leave the man on his own. He must admit, holding somebody felt so fucking right. Ethan fit snug against his chest, clinging on to the material of his shirt tightly, breathing softly and evenly for the first time since he’d seen the man. It was beautiful , Ethan was beautiful.
So when Karl pried Ethan’s numb fingers from his chest, he felt a pang of guilt, and an even softer pang of reluctance. He tucked the blonde under the worn covers of his bed and placed another, thinner blanket on top of him. His fingers still clenched around nothing in his sleep and, oh, Karl just had to slot a pillow in between his empty arms, and the fire had gone out too much so that needed replenishing, and wouldn’t the lights hurt Ethan’s eyes?
Suffice to say, Karl pampered the blonde as much as he could, looking for any excuse to stay with him a little longer. And, eventually, when he ran out of candles to light and blankets to drape, he took a reluctant step out into the hallway of his living space.
The lord turned and continued down the short hallway, past the bathroom and a closet, before making his way to the door to his kitchen and living room, opening it without lifting a finger. The door shut quietly behind him, and Karl didn’t stop walking until he was stood by the miniature island in his run down kitchen.
What the fuck do I do now? He thought to himself, rubbing his temples, I should probably make him some soup instead of just chicken and noodles, and some tea might help, too.
The lord sighed deeply and stood up straight again, pacing towards his freezer to pull out a frozen chicken breast. Next up was vegetables: carrots and celery were pulled from the fridge, while potatoes and parsley were fetched from the pantry (along with some broth and small, thick noodles).
A bowl was pulled from a cabinet and filled with water to defrost the chicken, while a cutting board and knife were floated to the counter courtesy of his powers. Karl began chopping up the carrots in slices, and the celery and potatoes in chunks, while the broth boiled and the chicken simmered.
------
By the time the soup was done, Ethan was still asleep. Karl had checked on him as frequently as possible while the soup cooked, feeling his forehead with the backs of his hands each time. The fever began to go down, it seemed, though it was still present nonetheless.
And now, a bowl of soup was sat on the nightstand next to Ethan, a glass of water and a pot of tea next to that, and the lord waited patiently for the man to wake up again.
Karl had eaten his own bowl of soup, the flavour bringing him back to his long lost childhood.
Ethan was laying on his side, his breathing steady and relaxed as he held onto the fluffed up pillow in his arms, squeezing it every once in a while. He looked peaceful: he’d had one hell of a day, he deserved nothing more than a nice, long break.
Heisenberg contemplated whether or not he should wake the blonde to eat. He needed his rest, sure, but he probably hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink in hours .
Whether it was to wake the man up or provide a small form of comfort Karl had no idea, but he found himself holding on to Ethan’s shoulder and rubbing little circles into the taut muscle he found with his thumb. The blonde hummed in his sleep and clung to the pillow tighter, nuzzling his face into it before his eyes opened blearily.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” the lord whispered, chuckling when a slight blush appeared on Ethan’s cheeks.
“Morning,” he mumbled back, sitting up and quietly mourning the loss of Karl’s hand on his shoulder. “How long was I out for?”
The lord hummed. “A few hours, at least,” his hands returned to Ethan’s shoulders when the man jolted upwards and made a move to exit through the only door in his sight. “Ethan, Ethan , breathe, it’s alright, she’s safe. Miranda can’t get to her, I have her here, alright? It’s okay.”
Shallow breaths exited Ethan’s lungs as tears welled up in his eyes. After a deep, shaky breath in, the blonde replied. “O- okay. Where is she now?”
Karl motioned to the side of the bed, where Ethan saw the stone chalice with his daughter’s flask’s and exhaled deeply, nodding. “I, uhm… I made some chicken and noodles, thought it might help with your… fever,” Karl chuckled nervously and grabbed the still-warm bowl from the nightstand, handing it to the shivering blonde, who reluctantly took it.
“...Thanks,” he mumbled cautiously, inspecting the bowl and sniffing its contents with a furrowed brow.
For a moment, Karl was left confused: why in the hell was Ethan looking at the meal he so generously made for him like he had never heard of it before? And that’s when it hit him, and he let out an annoyed sigh. “I’m not trying to fucking poison you, blödmann. If I wanted you dead you would’ve been hours ago,” the lord snapped.
“Alright! Alright, I get it, it’s… today’s been fucking rough , cut me some slack, alright?” Ethan replied solemnly before taking his first, albeit reluctant, bite of the warm soup. His eyes widened and he covered his mouth with his hand and stared down into the bowl, worrying Karl and his denied hatred of vomit before the blonde whispered, “Shit, you make a mean soup,” before practically inhaling it.
Karl burst out laughing, watching Ethan devour his meal in comfortable silence.
------
About fifteen or so minutes after Ethan ate, he laid back down on the mattress with a deep sigh and nearly fell asleep again. He had drunk his hot tea and practically overloaded it with honey, sipping away at it in relative silence while Karl sat reading in the chair beside him.
“How’re you feeling, Ethan?” Karl asked quietly, chuckling when the blonde’s eyes snapped open.
“Better, that’s for sure. Thanks for… taking care of me,” Ethan replied, flushing, “I don’t think I would’ve been able to last much longer if it weren’t for you.”
The lord smiled softly and stood from where he was seated, strolling over to Ethan and perching on the edge of the mattress next to the blonde, who looked up at Karl with such softness in his eyes.
“You helped me, I helped you. Just how it goes, Ethan,” Karl smiled.
The two men locked eyes for a long moment and shared soft smiles. Ethan observed how thoughtful Karl looked for a moment before he sighed deeply: Ethan’s eyes went wide while the flush on his face burned brighter when he felt one of the lord’s calloused, ungloved hands reached out and held his maimed one.
“We should clean and rewrap your hand, Papa,” the lord spoke, brushing the scarring gently with his thumb: somehow, it hardly hurt. “I’ll go get some warm water and soap, do you wanna take off the bandages?” Ethan nodded and sat up straighter while Karl squeezed his hand one last time before standing and making his way to the bathroom once more.
Before the blonde began to pick off the blood stained gauze, he noticed the stone chalice of Rosemary on the ground beside him again, placed delicately by Karl. He let out a deep sigh of relief as tears welled up in his eyes, deciding he needed to distract himself from thinking of his and his family’s current situation. His distraction, the man decided when he heard water shut off in a room close by, would be his torn apart hand.
Ethan found the end of the gauze quite easily, the bandage still soaked with disgusting water and fresh blood. He began to unwrap the bandage, wincing when he discovered his dried blood stuck the gauze to the open wounds all over his hand. Ripping off the patch that was stuck appeared to be a mistake, blood seeping from the wound nearly immediately.
“ Shit,” he whispered quietly when blood dripped down onto the stack of blankets covering his lap, frantically looking around before spotting the stack of towels and wrapping one around his bleeding hand.
Thankfully, Karl entered the room a few moments later with a bucket of soapy water. “You alright, Ethan?” he asked, brows furrowed, “You look pale, are you feeling ill again?”
The blonde unwrapped the towel from his hand and showed Karl the open wound, the man nearly dropping the bucket in his haste to return to Ethan’s side. “It’s fine, Karl, seriously–”
“I don’t give a shit, we’re rewrapping this and I’m making you a damn prosthetic, tollpatsch.”
Ethan kept his mouth shut from then on, watching in relative silence as Karl cleaned and rewrapped the wound. The lord rubbed and washed the hand gently, keeping it submerged in the warm, soapy water as he scrubbed away at the blood and grime. Every now and then, the lord would raise Ethan’s hand out of the water to inspect the wounds, not satisfied until no blood or slick algae was stuck onto the exposed muscles and bones.
“You alright if I pour some antiseptic on this and wrap it again?” Karl asked, looking the blonde in the eyes and pausing until he was given Ethan’s consent to continue.
“Yeah, that’ll be good,” the blonde smiled. Karl gave a warning before pouring antiseptic on the open wounds, Ethan letting out a sharp hiss of pain despite being so used to it. When the wounds were rewrapped with more care than Ethan ever put into them, Karl gave his hand a thankful squeeze and a warm smile, exiting the room again for a moment.
The blonde relaxed back into the pillows, shutting his eyes and breathing deeply. For the first time in what felt like years Ethan let himself breathe , have a moment to actually relax. Despite being impaled and dragged across the floor by the man, Ethan couldn’t help but trust Heisenberg. He was genuinely troubled, hurt by dreams just out of reach and a life taken away from him. Karl wanted to escape this place: Ethan couldn’t help but sympathise.
Interrupted from his thoughts by the door opening again, the lord entered smiling, pieces of scrap metal, screws, and bolts trailing after him. “I’ll need to measure the length of your fingers to get the size and shape right, but you can rest while I make them,” Karl said, excitement and joy lacing his tone, “Let’s see here…”
Ethan scooted over in the bed and patted the now vacant side of it, motioning for the confused lord to join him. “It’s gonna be easier to measure my fingers if you’re closer, right?” Ethan snapped tiredly.
“You-” Karl sighed in charmed annoyance, “You’re fuckin’ difficult, Winters. You’re lucky I like you.” He didn’t elaborate further.
Upon joining Ethan in his bed, the lord reached his hand out for Ethan’s left, while the tired blonde relaxed into Karl’s side. Jesus Christ he was exhausted.
“Here-”
Karl moved to position the blonde so he was nearly laying on top of him, his head resting comfortably on the lord’s chest. Ethan hardly registered the movement, distracted by the feeling of Heisenberg’s chest rising and falling with every breath he took, the feeling in the stumps of fingers on his left hand after being strained and forced into his palm for the better part of a day. Faintly, he registered the soothing sound of the lord’s voice, the rumble in his chest whenever a word would leave his mouth. Ethan thought he heard his name, humming softly before letting sleep consume him once more.
------
By the time Ethan awoke again, he was still resting on Heisenberg. This time, however, Karl’s arms were wrapped around his waist, holding a book of sorts. One of his hands patted the blonde’s head when he felt him wake.
“Welcome back, sleeping beauty,” the lord teased.
Ethan grumbled in annoyance. “How long was I out for?”
Karl hummed, “Not too long, this time,” he sighed, “Long enough for me to finish your fingers and read through your journal.” Ethan’s eyes snapped open and his head snapped up.
“You’re reading my diary? What the fuck, Karl, are you crushing on me or some shit?”
The lord burst out in laughter while the blonde scowled at him, lightly punching his chest as he looked away. “Well, I won’t deny that, but to be fair, it seems you’re the one with a crush , Winters,” he chuckled, motioning to a recent page with notes and sketches of the lord.
“Oh, my god ,” Ethan blushed, sitting up and moving to the side of the bed to stand, “I’m leaving, I’ll see you-” he was cut off, pulled back onto the mattress by something.
“Fair. Try out the damn prosthetic first, dummkopf. ” That got Ethan’s full, undivided attention.
He looked down at his left hand: the bandages were gone, two metal fingers and a metal covering replacing them, held in place by leather strappings. “Holy shit .”
“They’re not perfect and, I’ll admit, I could do a hell of a lot better than these, but they’ll work for now,” Karl explained, holding Ethan’s left hand in his own and explaining how all of the different mechanisms worked, why he designed it the way he did.
Apparently, the reason the metal covered the entire half of his hand was so the chunk taken out of the side would remain protected, and something about increased mobility for the prosthetics if they were attached to the rest of his hand along with the stumps, Ethan tuned into what the lord was saying, but was more baffled by having his hand back.
“–I had to take your ring off for these to fit on properly, though,” is when he tuned back in fully, “I heard something a while back about widows wearing their rings on a necklace, and having the ring on your finger would mess up the movement of your fingers, so here,” Karl handed him is wedding ring, attached to a small chain to fit around his neck.
Ethan took the necklace, looking at it intently before putting it around his neck. His ring looked like it’s been polished, or at the very least cleaned off. “Thank you, Heis,” Ethan whispered after putting the necklace on.
“You’re welcome, Ethan,” Karl chuckled, “I’m… sorry for what happened to your wife.”
“Thanks,” the blonde smiled solemnly back.
“You gonna try out your new fingers, or what?” Karl said, breaking the depressing silence.
“Yeah,” Ethan scoffed, smiling.
The fingers bent and moved like the bitten off ones did: although he couldn’t feel things with them, which he expected, the phantom pains and old sensations of what he would’ve been feeling had vanished. Ethan smiled wider, moving up and off the bed to go around to his Rosemary, lifting her in his arms.
“Thank you for all of this, Karl,” he whispered, looking at the stone chalice he held.
“It’s the least I could do after all the shit my siblings and mother put you through,” Heisenberg said with ire, sitting up and moving next to the blonde, “ And after you helped me with that… panic attack, right?”
“Yeah,” Ethan chuckled, looking up at Karl, “Speaking of your mother, when should we go kill her?”
“The ceremony won’t be able to happen until dawn,” Karl said, “And because of your little sickness, I grabbed Rosemary so it wouldn’t be able to happen today ,” Ethan flushed and looked away. “I gave Miranda a call earlier, said you were stubborn and came here with the chalice instead of leaving it at the Ceremony Site, and that you had gotten lost somewhere. As far as she knows, you’re a pile of mush in my factory, and I have to find Rosemary,” he concluded.
“So we have a full day to prepare?” Ethan finished for him.
“Bingo,” the lord clicked his tongue, “I have some shit to show you around here that’ll help us with her, and since you’re so against using your kid even though she could get the job done much faster,” Ethan rolled his eyes, “We’ll use the two of us instead. You’ve killed three of them so far, what’s another one with a helping hand?”
“Alright,” the blonde smiled and nodded, giving Rosemary one last squeeze before placing her delicately back on the floor and draping a blanket on top of her, “Where do we start?”