Chapter Text
After the Creature had finished his tale, the captain regarded Victor no longer in a mild respect—a victim of his own unchecked ambition, but a selfish fiend who had yet to try to make up for his actions. Six of his men had died due to Victor's decision to try to keep the Creature away from what he so obviously had the right to be around. Victor had fallen quiet, having no idea as to what the Creature had suffered during the time between the lab's explosion and the wedding.
Finally, he broke the silence, "I am sorry. Regret consumes me. And I now regard my life for what it was."
"My birth. My grief. Your loss. I will not be punished. But I hope to be absolved. What hope I had, what rage… It is all nothing." The Creature looked down at you, holding onto his finger, and settled against him.
"Forgive me," Victor hesitated for only a moment before reaching out to pat the creature's head, tenderly. Realization receded most of his malice towards "My son."
The Creature leaned into his touch as he continued to speak. "And if you have it in your heart, forgive yourself into existence. If death is not to be, then consider this, my son. While you are alive, what recourse do you have but to live? Live. Return to Elizabeth with me."
A pause. "Elizabeth lives?"
"She does, she does. I managed to save her." Victor dared to offer the Creature a smile.
The captain, still a witness to this interaction, cleared his throat. "I believe, after this cautionary tale, I will sail my men back home. In thanks for recounting your wisdom, perhaps I could allow you a safe passage to the mainland." His men wouldn't be happy transporting a being that ended six of their lives, but they didn't understand. Despite this, he knew they would begrudgingly listen.
The Creature rose, handing you to Victor. "I can free us."
Walton nodded, turning to the doors and opening them, and was met with the barrels of his men's weapons. "Weapons down. Put the weapons down!" He barked in Danish.
Larsen burst out in the front, "I am responsible for my men."
"Let him pass." The captain held Larsen's gaze, and Larsen, after a moment, relented. He trusted the captain's judgment; whatever he was doing was, begrudgingly, for good reason.
The Creature strode past the weapons pointing towards him, knowing they could do nothing, but he understood their fear. He jumped over the railing, landing on the ice. Long strides carried him across the snow to the front of the ship. Powerful hands placed themselves against the hull… and pushed.
The battle between the ice and the ship came to a violent end, sickening cracks spreading across the sharp claws that had crept up the vessel and ripped it from their clutches. It was freed, rapidly moving away from its icy grave. The Creature ran swiftly and carefully on the weakened ice, but with one formidable jump, he managed to grab a rope that had tied the ship in place (not that it needed to be tied in place) and pulled himself back up.
He was again met with the barrels of guns and angry, grieving faces around him. The only reason he wasn't being filled with lead bullets was because of their captain's orders, but he knew they wanted an explanation… And he was quite willing to give it to them. He cleared his throat and began to speak.
"I will not say sorry because I know sorry will not bring back the lives that I have taken." He spoke slowly, his voice echoing across the deck, "But you have not heard the story which prompted my rampage. Once we set sail, I will tell you. Should you deem it fit to throw me in the brig, then I will go without complaint."
There was silence, and then- "Men! We’re sailing home! We’re sailing home!" Larsen cried out.
And despite their grief, escaping the cold creeping into their bones seemed better than attempting to blast the Creature's head off. So reluctantly, the focus shifted away from the creature, and a cheer erupted across the deck. The crew scattered to follow the orders Larsen barked out and set the ship on track.
The Creature lumbered through them, back to the captain's quarters… it was going to be a long few months.
The trip back to Victor's estate was a long and complicated one, maybe not as complicated as their chase through the ice, but a matter of surviving the suffocating awkwardness that was living among the resentful crew. Well, most were resentful. Some, after hearing the Creature's recount of the meager number of months he'd been alive, found it in themselves to forgive the Creature, and often conversed with Victor and his Creature.
Your fever broke after a few days, leading to a swift recovery. The cold really had been a factor. The Creature was constantly by your side in compensation for the fact that it had been he who had dragged you so far out into the wilderness. His punishment, he'd decided, was listening to you wail in discomfort. The sound alone was enough to make a lump form in his throat, aching in regret.
This proved to be awkward, though, as Victor also rarely left your side. After his experience, he wanted to make up for his past mistakes. He wanted to prove to Elizabeth that he could be a better person. That in itself was a selfish reason for his improvement, but it was a step in the right direction.
Victor and his Creature spent a lot of time together, beginning with quiet… but the Creature refused to let the silence stew. He had questions, wanted answers. He was at first met with a large amount of resistance. Curt answers, tired looks, but eventually, Victor's own curiosity won through. His main motivation for trapping the Creature within the burning building had been the fact that he could not bear to see his lifelong project fail.
But now, here it was. Speaking, moving, thinking, learning.
They no longer resided in the captain's quarters but had been provided a comfortable room in the belly of the ship that many of the crew members (who were packed into bunks and hammocks) envied. Considering the two were caring for a child, though, they came to terms with it.
About halfway through their journey on the sea… One evening, Victor sat in the corner, on a padded chair. Back curled like a shrimp over a pad of paper, the captain had graciously provided him. The Creature held you, tossing you gently into the air, a smile spreading across his face when you let out joyful babbles. He set you down on his knee as he sat down on the bed. His leg jogged up and down, looking up and across the room at Victor.
"Does your back not ache with the way you are hunching over?" His voice rumbled, catching Victor's attention.
"I have to make do without a desk; this position is most comfortable." A polite smile danced across Victor's lips, glancing up at the Creature.
The Creature let out a hum, content with the answer until he craved another one. "When sewing my limbs together," He tilted his head, gaze fixed on Victor, "Did you ever stop and consider a name?"
Victor's face went blank. Nothing could be heard but the gentle barrage of water crashing against the boat for a moment before he spoke. "No, I was too wrapped up in my determination to make it work- to make you rise, I never gave what came next a thought." It was quiet, clear to the Creature that he didn't want to answer the question. But had anyway, for reasons the Creature hadn't quite been able to decipher yet.
"You never gave a thought to my identity, how I might find a place in society, if I would retain the memory of the man whose brain I took?"
"I- I know." Victor let out a frustrated huff, putting down his sketch. He then raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "I have no excuse."
They held each other's gaze, the strain suffocating Victor until he broke.
"But since then, I have." The Creature watched as Victor nervously folded his hands in his lap. "If you have not thought of a name yourself, perhaps you might like to hear my suggestion."
"…I would, yes." Rising from his spot across the room, the Creature looked down at you, tugging away the strings from his shirt that you had grabbed to entertain yourself with. He settled again on the floor now, knees drawn up, great hands folded as if unsure where they ought to rest. Right in front of Victor… like he was about to tell a story.
Victor set his sketch to the side, leaning down to take you from the Creature's arms. "Y/N's name was of Elizabeth's suggestion. She read it in a book and became absolutely enamored with the meaning. It seemed fitting that yours might come from a book as well, about the first humans, and as you're technically the first of your kind…"
The Creature's face slowly turned into one of surprise as it dawned on him which name Victor was about to utter. The same name he had repeated to you a myriad of times, so many times that he thought in that moment in the barkeep's cabin, you had recognized him by that name.
He felt a hand on his head, "Adam." Victor had moved you to one arm to reach out to him. Callused hands that hadn't been this gentle towards Adam since the first couple of days he'd been alive.
He leaned into Victor's touch, quite content with this name. You had chosen it for him long before Victor had, perhaps Victor had heard you babbling it towards him… Or maybe, like father, like child. A coincidence.
"Adam," He repeated. "It is fitting."
"Yes… Adam Frankenstein. I'd like for you to adopt my family name as well, if you wish." While it went without saying, Victor, in some sense, had accepted Adam as his son. The offer felt like an apology, an indirect invitation for Victor to take a role in Adam's life and make amends for the past couple of months.
With a slow nod, Adam accepted, "I have read and told the story countless times, but I want to hear it from you."
The relief that entered Victor's stature was imminent; he knew he wasn't quite forgiven… but oddly found himself glad that he would have the opportunity to be. Hand lingering on Adam's head before he drew it away to cradle you, the atmosphere surrounding them became sleepy, as he did indeed start the tale of Adam and Eve. Knowing both Adam… and you were listening intently to every word he spoke.
Of course, the rest of the journey was not without troubles. Mostly between the crew and the ocean surrounding them. But nothing of mention.
It was a simple matter once they reached land, Adam was given a change of clothes (which was a feat, finding things that fit him), cleaned up enough that he could walk through the public without problem. The strange looks, though, were something Victor couldn't prevent. Adam kept his face neutral when they weaved through crowds to reach a station or train lane, but Victor could tell how the looks bothered his son. Subtle movements like shifting closer to Victor, shoulders hunched in an attempt to look smaller, and barely detectable jumps when someone flinched at his appearance.
Sometimes it made Victor's stomach twist to think he brought on such suffering.
But finally, on a cool night- though practically morning, in late spring… they reached Geneva.
A carriage had been waiting for them when they stepped off the train, Adam had you settled in one arm, head on his shoulder. The other clutched the back of Victor's coat, so as not to lose him in the bustling station. His breath created a small puff of white that quickly faded into the air before another followed it.
Quickly, they found their carriage. Settled down by the road. Victor had sent a letter in advance, letting Elizabeth know of their arrival, and was very glad that the letter made it there before they did. The horses remained completely calm as three of you approached, though the coachman seemed pretty skittish at the sight of the towering silhouette beside Victor's easily recognizable one.
Adam stopped before the horses, letting go of Victor, who went to hand off his suitcases. Adam knew you might be irritable during the day, but he wanted to share this with you. Arriving home. So gently, he woke you up by patting your back. Blearily, with a noise of complaint, you rose to be met with the curious gaze of a chestnut colored horse.
It extended its neck to take an experimental nibble of your sleeve, and you let out a giggle, elated with the strange creature before you. Adam held a smile on his face, raising his hand to stroke the horse's nose, and guiding your hand to do the same when-
"Adam! I want to get there before the cooks have stopped making breakfast, please?" Victor poked his head out of the carriage, an annoyed expression on his face.
You frowned as Adam pulled you away from the horse, but you were ultimately too sleepy to complain. Your head settled back against Adam as the carriage fell into a rhythmic sway, traveling down the path that would lead it to your home, now Adam's as well.
The one he had stolen you away from all those months ago.
Victor and Adam conversed as you fell back asleep, perhaps about where Adam would reside within the estate, or maybe speculating where Walton, the proud captain, was now. Whatever it was, you were too young to really understand anything. It served as white noise as you slowly drifted off once more.
At least until the carriage turned the last corner before reaching the estate, then, as if by instinct, you sat up. Turning your head to look out the window and catch the beginnings of a vibrant sunrise.
The sun crept over the horizon as Adam and Victor stepped out of the carriage, stretching its rays and painting the sky a soft orange that melded with the lingering blue.
Adam shifted you from one arm to the other nervously as he turned his head to look towards the sculpted steps of the manor.
He didn't know why he was nervous. The last time he had seen her, their interaction had ended so… peaceful. Which is exactly the look she held, standing before the doors. Draped in her light blue, flowy night gown. Her arms were tucked against her in protection from the cold, but they unraveled as the three of you approached.
Her attention primarily went to the hulking figure that had been the last thing she saw before she'd blacked out, thinking it was surely her time. He looked so different, less tormented, less fed on scraps. She reached up to cup his face, noting the way he held his breath. He watched every one of her movements, finally releasing it with one word.
"Elizabeth-"
She shook her head. "It's alright. I don't blame you," For William's death, for kidnapping you. "You kept them alive." She brushed a strand of hair that had escaped from his ponytail.
The corners of Adam's lips turned up, though he knew it wasn't quite all right. By the worry that wormed its way into the creases of Elizabeth's face. Hidden by her smile.
But he was content to play pretend for a while.
"Do you have a name yet?" The red-haired woman tilted her head curiously. She couldn't quite keep calling him the Creature could she?
"…Adam."
"Adam. That was his idea wasn't it." Her voice held a tint of dissaproval, but only for a moment. "No, it's okay. I like it."
She then turned her gaze down, "Y/N." Lighting up with the kind of joy only an infant could bring, "Hello…"
You had sat quietly during their reunion, but now seemed to sense you could demand her attention. The woman you still managed to recognize as your mother scooped you up, your arms outstretched. "You've grown so much in such a short time." A laugh escaped her, admiring you for a moment with a bit of a sad look before she wrapped you in an embrace.
From behind Adam, the noise of someone clearing their throat interrupted them.
Elizabeth paused, letting out a small sigh. She was still not quite sure whether she could look the man in the eye. "Do you wish me to thank you and hold you as tenderly as I do the child?" Her voice was curt, "When it is your actions that have made me sit for months mourning the absence of both your creations."
They had gone over this argument again and again, and Victor cringed behind Adam. Reluctant, but willing to go through it once more if only to know Elizabeth was going to begin to forgive him.
"I brought them both back, I have begun to make amends with Adam. You know this, Elizabeth. I have sent you letter after letter. I do not ask for your forgiveness, but a minuscule amount of your understanding." He stepped out, meek, but with an air someone who wanted to understand the error in his actions.
"I understand, yet it had only given me all the more reason not to sympathize with the arrogant man who chose to play god and then didn't want to face what he had done." These were words that were very familiar to Victor, sitting at her side whilst she healed from the gunshot wound. But they still hurt.
A hand settled on her shoulder. "I have found it in myself to begin to forgive him." Came Adam's voice, sincere. "It has abated some of my misery. I suggest you try."
Victor kept quiet, most likely holding his breath as Elizabeth stared at him. You, who had been sitting in her arms now reached out for the man. Letting out an expectant whine for his hold. She looked down at you, expression softening as the wind blew through. Freeing a couple of strands of hair from her loosely put up bun. Slowly, she lifted you, hands tucked under your arms as she held you out to Victor. She had not forgiven him, and she most likely wouldn't for a very long while. But if Adam was willing… she wouldn't be adverse to trying.
You were a peace offering. Victor lit up, lifting you into the air. Letting out a soft, almost nervous laugh, the tension had been so thick that for a moment he was sure Elizabeth would shut him out.
But she didn't. Now she was watching you with your father. Glancing up at Adam beside her, he reached out and curled his fingers into the hem of her nightgown. Physical touch felt natural, yet alien at the same time. He wasn't quite sure how to express it, "Victor mentioned there might be breakfast?" Perhaps he'd learn with time.
Elizabeth blinked. "Oh yes. The cooks have yet to stop making breakfast. Come they've made my favorite, I think you'll like it."
Turning around and gently tugging on Adam's shoulder so he turned around with her. Taking his elbow and beginning to walk inside. She of course, didn't forget you. Looking back and reaching back for you, sitting in Victors arms. You grabbed ahold of her finger, tugging Victor along as the four of you rose the rest of the steps… and into the house.