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He had it all.
That's what a boring life in the village gets you. Everything, yet nothing at the same time. He was given, what others may see, as a good hand in life. He was Miranda's favourite. And being the favourite gave you special privileges. He got more. He got away with more.
His brother always seemed to envy him. He wanted to be the favourite.
His sister seemed to hate him. She wanted to be the favourite.
His other sister was somewhat at peace with it. She still wanted to be the favourite, though.
He hated it. He hated the way Miranda talked to him. She would treat him like a beloved son. If she could, he knew his photo would be the biggest and the most prominent. Followed by Dimitrescu, then Donna, then Moreau. He was her prized possession. Her favourite. Treatment he knew damn well the others would die for. He saw the way the others looked at Miranda. Like puppies just wanting their owner to give them all the love and attention in the world. Yet the only one she looked at was him.
He did what he thought would disappoint her, just so she'd maybe favour Dimitrescu instead.
He swore. He smoked. He dropped hints about his disloyalty. He refused to get along with his siblings in most cases. He didn't show up to the meetings unless it interested him.
Yet.
It.
Never.
Worked.
Not once.
She would just smile, and dismiss him.
He hated her guts every time she did that.
He wanted them to be spilled.
And his siblings knew that. He didn't care if they thought he was a pretentious prick. He didn't care. He didn't need their approval. He didn't need anyone's approval. He didn't need anyone's attention.
But then he saw him.
Ethan Winters.
The father of the baby.
If he were honest, he didn't care for him at first. A slight intrigue, maybe, but nothing more besides that. But then he had survived his little game. Hell, he didn't even realise he did until Miranda told him.
"Dimitrescu just called me."
"So?"
"It seems that human had survived your game."
He remembered how he felt.
Rage? Disappointment?
No. Of course not. He was impressed.
So he watched him. He watched as Ethan moved through the place. He slowly began to want to know more about the man. His likes and wants. His feelings. He wanted to see the world through Ethan's eyes.
So that led him here. Now.
"We can use Rose to grind Miranda into paste!" He grinned widely, arms spread in welcoming.
"She's not a weapon to be used!" Ethan's voice rose, cracking at the pressure he forced on his already tired body. "I'm not working with you if Rose is the key to this. Leave her alone!"
"So you will work with me if Rose is out of the equation?" He scratched his chin, looking at the father in wonder, trying to pick apart all the little thoughts running through his head.
Ethan paused at those words as if what he himself had said didn't register in his own mind. If. He had said if.
"If she is out of the equation…and you promise you leave her out of this, then yes. I'll work with you. But so help me if you lay a hand on her-"
"Relax, Winters. Wouldn't dream of it if it means working with you." He put his hand on his chest, trying to show Ethan he'd keep his word. Didn't seem to work due to the expression on his face.
"You won't backstab me either, will you? I won't hesitate to kill you if you try to."
"Please, Ethan, what kind of man do you take me for?" He took a step closer, testing the waters. "I'm a man of my word. Have I ever lied to you?"
"Probably."
"Oh, don't say that. Makes me seem like an asshole." Another step. Ethan didn't flinch; didn't move.
"Maybe you are."
Another step, and he was right in front of Ethan. He towered over the sitting man, looking down at him as he looked up.
"If I truly was, would you even agree to work with me, Winters?"
The two stared at each other, not another word passing through the air that seemed to boil them alive. The difference was that one was used to the heat and the other wasn't.
Ethan closed his eyes, his lips drawing in a straight line before he spoke again. "What's the plan? Assuming you have one." He stood, leaning back as he tried not to get too close to the Lord.
"Of course I have one. You take me for a damn fool like my siblings? Come with me." Heisenberg leaned forward, a wolfish grin on his face at Ethan leaning further back. He then turned on his heel and started walking towards a door that swung open on its own.
"Where are we going?"
"Patching you up while I tell you the plan. Respectfully– or disrespectfully– you choose, you look like shit." He made gestures with his hands, not bothering to face him as he spoke. He could practically feel Ethan's glare burning through the back of his skull.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
He paused, frowning as he sighed. "Clearly you haven't been paying attention to yourself, have you? I can't tell if half of the blood on you is someone else's or your own."
Silence, again.
Then he heard the shuffling of Ethan's steps as he began to follow him. He let himself grin again, continuing his slow strides as he walked.
"How long is this walk?"
"You love to ask questions, don't you?"
"I'd say I have the right to ask questions now that we're partners."
Heisenberg paused before he spoke again, "The walk isn't long."
.
.
.
Ethan sat on a table as Heisenberg worked, trying his absolute best to keep some distance from the man. It didn't help that he had his jackets and shirt taken away. On one hand, the heat from the factory was bearable now. On the other, he felt embarrassment creep up on him as he watched Heisenberg inspect his wounds before patching them up better than he ever could.
"Relax, Winters. You keep backing away from me every time I move to a new wound."
"Sorry." His voice was quiet. He didn't want to apologise to the man who had tried to kill him twice, yet if he were to work with him, he needed to actually work with him. Get along with him.
"Never took you as the guy to apologise." He snickered, wrapping up another wound before he paused. He stared at a circular scar in his abdomen. His gloved hand gently traced the marking.
"What are you looking at?" Ethan had the urge practically screaming at him to back away, yet he didn't.
"This is where I stabbed you." Heisenberg's voice was laced with curiosity. "It's a wonder how such a wound healed so damn fast."
"You should've seen my hand earlier." Ethan gave a laugh. "Look."
He showed Heisenberg his wrists, the lines where his hands had been sliced clean off being prominent on his pale skin. And yet, here they were. Back on.
"Remarkable." Heisenberg inspected it closely, holding his hands gently. He seemed genuinely curious. Interested. "You really are something, Ethan."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?"
"You choose."
"You seem to let me choose how to feel often."
"Well, you're my partner aren't you?"
Ethan stared down at the man, hands still laying in the others. Heisenberg looked up at him, letting out a grin at the silence from him.
"You are missing some fingers, though. Couldn't stick them back on?" Heisenberg finally spoke, moving both his hands to Ethan's left hand. "Can I undo the bandages? You'll get a damn infection at this rate."
"They were eaten by a lycan. And sure."
He slid Ethan's ring off, setting it on the desk before he began to unwrap the bandages. Blood made them stick together, the peeling sensation nearly making Ethan gag.
"Lucky for you, the bleeding stopped. So if we treat it now you probably won't get too bad of an infection. Bad news, your fingers are gone." Heisenberg laughed, making Ethan roll his eyes. "Good news though. Prosthetics are a thing. Even better news, you're working with a metal bender."
"What?"
"You didn't know I have metal powers?" Heisenberg raised an eyebrow.
"What, no! Of course I do, dumbass. What does that have to do with my fingers?"
"I can make you new fingers. Better than what they'd give you back in America. Free of charge, too! See, ain't being my partner got some perks?" He already set to measuring Ethan's fingers on his other hand to get roughly the same length as the missing ones.
"How long would it take? I imagine we have to get to Miranda soon."
"Not as long as you'd think. And we got till dawn. We got lots of time, Winters."
He didn't know how he managed to keep track of the time. This place didn't have any damn windows. Another thing he'd have to trust on Heisenberg's part.
.
.
.
While Heisenberg worked on making the new fingers for him, the two discussed their plan. With the lack of Rose in the plan now, it was clear the engineer was reworking his plan as he spoke.
Brute force seemed to be the main strategy.
There was nothing else they really could do. Ethan was grateful he wouldn't have to do it alone, though.
"Here. This is how you take it on and off, alright? Pay attention." Heisenberg delicately manipulated the leather straps, tightening the machinery onto his hand. "Make sure the fingers are in place. And to take it off, you just undo the straps." He then showed Ethan the way to take it off.
He nodded, using his other hand to carefully put the prosthetic on. He struggled; who wouldn't when you could only use one of your hands? But he managed.
"How's it work?" Ethan asked.
"The way you move the bit of your existing fingers will tell the working to bend, or not to. So close your fist as you normally would."
So he did. The metal fingers seamlessly closed with his other fingers, acting exactly like they did.
"Woah." He held out his hand, continuously moving the fingers. "This is amazing."
Heisenberg grinned, picking up the ring he had put to the side. He inspected it. "Glad you like it, Winters." He rummaged through his drawers in his desk, pulling out a thin metal chain. He put it through the ring, allowing it to be a necklace. He then handed it back to Ethan.
"Thank you, Karl." He took the necklace, looping it around his neck and clasping it together to lock it in place.
Heisenberg stopped in his tracks, coughing lightly to not allow Ethan to see the hold him using his first name had. It's been a long time since he'd heard his first name used in such a positive light. "Of course, Ethan."
The father hopped off the desk, dreading putting his jackets back on. But he did. He was suddenly made aware of how damp they were. "So, what now?"
"Now, we prepare. Get ready, pops. We're in for a hell of a ride."
.
.
.
.
"What're you thinking about?" Ethan spoke as he placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of Karl. The engineer popped out of his thoughts, Ethan's voice forcing him out of them. It wasn't the first time he lost himself in his own world.
"The village. You." Heisenberg shrugged. "It's hard to say."
"Do you need to talk about it?" Ethan knew well what it was like to refuse to talk about the past. How badly that could hurt. Bottling up all those thoughts and emotions were never good.
"I'm–" He started, hesitation in his voice. "I'm thinking about how we started working together."
Ethan looked down at his left hand. He was still wearing the same prosthetic Heisenberg made for him ever since that day. A few repairs, and a few add-ons that he could work in now that he wasn't rushed, but it was still the same. The only difference was the scratch marks on both the metal itself and the leather. Plus a layer of silicone on the inside for more comfort. "Good or bad things?"
"Does it have to be either?" He picked up the mug, his eyes glancing at the swirling chestnut brown before taking a sip.
"I suppose not."
"I think it's relatively good, though. Good that I met you. Good that you trust me. Good that the bitch died. Good that the others are okay. Good that Rose is okay. But…"
"But?"
But. There was always a but.
"It feels wrong. Like there was supposed to be a different outcome. Like– like what if we didn't work together? What if I hurt you– shit, what if you died? What if I died?"
"What if's aren't good for you, Karl." Ethan put his hands on his shoulders.
"I know, I know- it's just, I don't want to lose you. Pathetic isn't it? I've gotten so damn used to the attention you give me."
"I don't think that's pathetic." Ethan bent forward, putting his head in the crook of Heisenberg's neck. "I think it's rather nice."
"I never thought I'd need anyone's attention. I was so damn used to the attention Miranda gave me that I figured all attention would hurt me." He moved his hair to the side so it wouldn't be in the way of Ethan's face. "Now I'm just worried it'll hurt you."
"It won't."
"How do you know? You seem to know the answer to everything."
"I don't." Ethan smiled, closing his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Heisenberg. "Hell, you said I ask a lot of questions. But when it comes to you, and what you'll do, I think I know it's the best choice."
Heisenberg leaned into his touch, "how do you know it's even the best choice?"
"Because I love you. And that's all I need to know that this is the best outcome for me. I have everything I could ever need here. I have you, I have Rose, and I have everyone else. So I know you won't hurt me. We're partners, aren't we?"
"Till the very end." He sighed, closing his eyes. "I love you too, sweetheart. We can talk about it more after breakfast." He moved his head, setting the mug down in order to move one hand onto Ethan's and the other onto the back of his head. His fingers set themselves into the blonde hair that began to grow out a bit from its usually tidy appearance.
He let himself relish in the peace Ethan gave off, let himself melt into his touch and his warmth. He let himself kiss Ethan back whenever he had moved forward to do so.
He had it all.
That's what living a life with Ethan Winters gets you.