Work Text:
“Don’t take another step closer!” Francis warned, moving into a stance in front of Jane. Cesare loomed behind them, the flame from Caligari’s lantern reflected in his eyes.
“Now, Francis. You haven’t eaten in over twenty-four hours,” Caligari chided, “and I doubt you’ve gotten any sleep, either. I’d very much like to know what you’re planning to do.”
Francis paled, realizing with anger that he was right. “I’m not letting you touch her,” he said, although his voice trembled.
“It’s too late for that, I’m afraid,” Caligari answered. “If you knew what I have in mind for her, you’d wish it only stopped at touching.”
Jane flinched away, and Cesare growled, all his lean muscles tense.
“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, either,” Caligari continued. “Come, Cesare! Let me once again taste the succulence of your flesh.”
Cesare hated the way Caligari spoke to him, even though he didn’t know what succulence meant. But even more, he hated the way he straightened at the command, and the sudden impulse that compelled him to follow it. Jane pulled him back, and he twitched in discomfort.
“You’ve grown quite attached to her, haven’t you?” Caligari grinned. “I don’t blame you; she’s a pretty one. That was why you didn’t kill her, wasn’t it?”
Cesare blinked. He still wasn’t sure why it had happened; he’d been panicking too much to remember. He’d heard people talking about how pretty she was before, but it was in a way that he found scary- like how Caligari would talk about him. If that’s what pretty meant, he hoped that wasn’t why he’d put down the knife all those nights ago.
“Who damaged you more, her or Friederich?” Caligari continued. Cesare flinched; he must have found out about Dr. Stein. ”I know he stole you away, and ruined you after I made you perfect. And I know something else about him, too.”
“Who’s Friedrich?” Francis demanded.
“Nobody concerning you,” Caligari answered. “But Cesare… what do you think of him?”
“Is… good,” Cesare muttered, looking down. Did Caligari know he was trying to free Dr. Stein from his cell? What had he done to him?
“Good,” Caligari repeated, then began to laugh. “Good!” he wheezed, pounding his cane on the floor. “He’s good, Cesare? Is that what you said?”
Cesare wasn’t sure why he was laughing, and stayed quiet.
“He told me everything,” Caligari continued to laugh. “He told me that you thought it was a sleepwalking incident! Oh, isn’t that convenient!”
Cesare tilted his head. What was Caligari talking about?
“Don’t you know? You woke up in the woods, didn’t you? That’s where he said you were- the woods! And you-” he laughed again- “you call him good!”
“Cesare, don’t listen to him,” Jane warned.
Caligari wiped a tear away from his eye, still smiling. “You didn’t have a sleepwalking incident, Cesare. He abandoned you as soon as I came back, because he cared far more about working for me than he ever did for you. When you were eighteen years old, your parents didn’t want to deal with the inconveniences your condition brought them, and so they turned you over to me.”
“Parents?” Cesare gasped. He had parents?
“Oh, yes. I know the names of your parents, and how they came to send you here, and what they called you before I made you perfect. I know about your childhood, and your illnesses, and everything about the beautiful boy who was abandoned in his sleep and left in my care. But it’s not worth trying to find out anything about who you used to be, because the only thing you’ll learn is that nobody wants you, Cesare. The minute you become a liability to someone else, you’re mine- and I will never let you go. But your new friend there? What makes you think she won’t be the same as the rest of them?”
“I won’t,” Jane mumbled, staying close to Cesare.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
“I said I won’t!” she insisted. “We’ve come this far; what makes you think I’d just hand him over to you?”
“I don’t know,” Caligari said, swinging the lantern in his hand. “Probably the fact that I have your parents. Now what do you say to that?”
“No,” Jane gasped. Her grip on Cesare’s hand faltered.
“You already lied to me,” Francis said. “Don’t you dare lie to her too!”
“Not to worry; I’m not lying. While the two of them were helping you escape, I’d gone to meet with them; you may have overheard my assistant telling me that a couple had come to see me, yes? They’d arrived on their own volition, looking for their daughter, who had so wisely placed herself in my care. And so I did what any hospitable host would do- what did they always teach you, June?”
“You offered them refreshments,” Jane muttered, too shocked to react to Caligari calling her the wrong name once again.
“That’s exactly right, James. They really did enjoy them; perhaps I could have raised you better than they ever did! But, you know, they still haven’t given up finding a suitable husband for you… and I’m already imagining waking up to your sweet little body beside me every morning. Mrs. Jill Caligari; how does that sound?”
Francis gave a hoarse cry, running at him and tackling him to the ground. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that!” he shouted.
Jane and Cesare watched, frozen in shock. “What are you doing?” Francis demanded as Caligari wrenched his arm up. “Go!”
Cesare watched as Jane started for the exit. “Stein…!” he called.
She turned around. “You can go help Dr. Stein. I need to find my parents.”
Cesare shivered; they had stuck together since the moment they realized they were both in danger. Could either of them accomplish anything by themselves? Dr. Stein had helped them; clearly saving him was important. And hadn’t Jane told him many times about how restrictive her parents were? Why would she want to help them; what exactly were parents, anyway?
“I’ll see you and Francis soon,” she promised. “Goodbye.”
He watched as she ran off, then directed his attention to Caligari throwing Francis off of him, before Francis attacked him again. Feeling his stomach twist, he raced to Dr. Stein’s cell, where he found him still on the gurney, but breathing more steadily. He found the second restraint on the straitjacket and began to bite at it, gnawing furiously until it came off in his teeth, and he spat it out. There was just one more…
Dr. Stein gasped, and Cesare leapt back, watching as he coughed a fragile breath of air.
“Where… where am I?” he muttered, eyes half closed.
“Asylum,” Cesare whispered. “Leave. Now.”
Dr. Stein’s fingers twitched, but he didn’t get up. “Who’s that…?”
Cesare tugged at his arms, trying to pry them loose from the jacket. He thought of what Caligari had said; if Dr. Stein really had abandoned him, then why did he come back?
“Did… you…” he began, trying to think of the right words that would express what he wanted to say. “Woods…?”
“Cesare? Is that you?”
Cesare nodded. “Did… he…?”
Dr. Stein groaned, managing to sluggishly raise an arm before it fell down again. “He must have used that sedative,” he muttered. “I knew they were developing one, but… ugh, my head hurts.”
Cesare didn’t know what a sedative was, but pulled Dr. Stein up. “Go,” he hissed, before he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, and a beam of light spilled into the cell. He turned to see Caligari in the doorway, holding a syringe in his other hand.
-
“Why are you standing there, dear? You’re late for tea!”
Jane stood in the doorway of Caligari’s office, staring in bewilderment at her mother, who stirred a teacup with a spoon in lazy circles, a placid look in her eyes.
“Mama…?” she gasped, tearing up, before processing what was going on. “Mama, don’t drink that!”
“And why shouldn’t I? I’ve already had half a cup already. It’s quite good; maybe it would calm your nerves.”
“Oh, yes,” her father agreed, sitting beside her mother. “The director made us some excellent tea.”
Her mother nodded in adoring agreement. “Such a caring man he is. I was thinking perhaps we could have him over again; we all had a wonderful time when he came over. Wouldn’t you agree, Jane?”
“No.” She shook her head, backing away in terror. “I don’t want to see him ever again.”
Her father stood up, his eyes stern behind his thick glasses. “That’s not how we raised you to speak,” he said. “Jane, apologize to your mother at once.”
She felt shame course within her, but shook her head. “He’s a murderer. He tried to kill me. He killed Alan, and he had Francis trapped in a cell down there.”
“Jane, that’s enough! Perhaps you’ve gone insane, but that’s no excuse to spread such defamatory lies.”
“Don’t you get it? You’ve been drugged! There’s something in that tea that’s messing with your head, and… and…” she could feel the tears coming again, and choked up. What did it matter whether or not they were drugged, if they were acting exactly the same as they had before?
What if they’re not drugged at all?
Her mother gave her a sad look. “You must be tired, darling. Don’t cry; sit down with us. There’s still plenty of tea left for you.”
Her heart ached as she listened to her mother’s calming tone, and she remembered a time when she was very young, before all that nonsense about manners and marriage, and her mother would sing her to sleep on stormy nights. You must be tired. She was. She suddenly thought about how it would feel to fall into her parents’ arms, and they’d carry her home and she’d finally rest, and wake up in her comfortable room and forget all about Caligari and whatever he was up to. Her parents were acting the same; maybe if she closed her eyes, she could pretend she was back home and none of this had ever happened. It would be so, so easy.
But Francis and Cesare were trapped down there with Caligari, and pretending wouldn’t change that. “I love you,” she said, and fled the office, feeling as if her heart was breaking.
-
“It’s too bad I only have enough in here for one of you,” Caligari said, flicking the syringe in his hand. “I was going to give the dose to Friederich, but on second thought, Cesare would save me so much time. And with Francis back there, well- that’s too many options! Should I let you three decide amongst yourselves which one will be injected, or do I choose at random?”
“Injected…?” Dr. Stein slurred, falling forward. Cesare hurriedly propped him up.
“With the serum that your colleagues have been ingesting, yes.”
“I won’t… let… you…” Francis gasped, struggling to his feet behind them.
“I won’t let you this, I won’t let you that,” Caligari snapped. “Hurry up and die already!” He whirled around and grabbed Francis’ neck, driving the needle into his skin. Francis paled, then convulsed, before falling to the ground, unconscious.
“It may take a few hours to work into his system,” Caligari said, “but once it does… oh, it’ll be terribly wonderful to have him! Now, Cesare. Come here.”
Cesare shook his head, keeping his hand gripped around Dr. Stein’s arm. Caligari threw the empty syringe aside and stomped towards him, the lantern blazing in his eyes. Cesare flinched as he felt Caligari’s hands grab his wrists, wrenching him away from Dr. Stein and pressing him against the wall.
Cesare stared down at Caligari, his heart pounding with fear. He wasn’t going to go back with him, he decided. He wasn’t going to spend another night in a box, or another day in the sideshow, or kill another person, or feel those ravenous hands on his head again. But as Caligari grinned, licking his lips like a wolf, he found he was frozen in place, too terrified to move. Francis was unconscious on the ground, Jane had disappeared, and Dr. Stein was still waking up. Nobody wants you, Caligari had said. Nobody except for Caligari himself, who wanted him in every horrible way.
“Savor this moment, Cesare,” Caligari whispered, leaning in close. Cesare flinched away; his rancid breath was hot on his neck. “Just as I will savor you.”
Cesare closed his eyes, wondering if it would be better to fall asleep so he didn’t have to see whatever Caligari wanted to do, when he heard a scream pierce through the hall. Caligari paused, and Cesare looked over his shoulder to see Jane staring in shock at Francis on the ground. He screeched, hoping to catch her attention, but the noise made Caligari recoil. Cesare slipped out of his grasp, running to Jane.
“Came… back,” he gasped.
“Cesare, what’s going on?”
How was he supposed to answer that? He didn’t speak, but pointed towards Caligari.
“I’m surprised, frankly,” Caligari muttered. “I would have expected you to faint away first, not him. Did you manage to find your parents, John?”
“It’s Jane,” she said quietly, taking Cesare’s hand.
“I couldn’t hear you. Speak up, Jezebel.”
“You took my best friends from me,” she said, looking into his eyes. “You drugged my parents and turned the town against me and killed Alan and hurt Francis, and stole Cesare’s mind and body.”
Caligari raised an eyebrow as she continued.
“You… you have belittled and harassed and targeted me just to make yourself feel stronger, and you force people to submit to you because you will never know actual love. You can try to hurt us however you want, but no matter what you do, my name is Jane Olsen, and you can never change that.”
Cesare squeezed her hand. “Am not… yours,” he hissed. “Cesare… is… for me… now.”
Caligari only grinned wider. “And are you saying that I can never have either of you?” he asked, his voice snakelike. “No matter how desperately I want you?”
“I said what I said.” Jane answered.
“Very well,” Caligari said. “If you insist you won’t be mine, then I suppose it’s settled.” He raised the lantern, before smashing it down on the ground. “If I can’t have you, then perhaps you can go to anyone else who wants you- which, as we’ve already established, is nobody.”
Jane gasped, picking up her skirts as the fire began to spread across the floor. “The people in those cells…” she realized. “My parents… Francis! We need to get them all out; what are we going to do?”
Cesare glanced at Francis, and grabbed him off the ground, grunting with effort as he struggled to hold him. “Keys,” he said.
“You’re right. I have the keys. I’ll start unlocking the cells; you get Francis and Dr. Stein to safety.”
“See… you…?” he whispered.
“I’ll see you soon,” she nodded. “I promise.”
Cesare looked around for Caligari, but he was gone. Figuring he didn’t have enough time to worry about him, he dragged Francis to the gurney where Dr. Stein was sitting, and set him down on top of it. The rising smoke was already beginning to hurt his lungs, and he coughed, his large eyes stinging with ash.
“There’s- there’s a fire,” Dr. Stein gasped, staring down at Francis, then at the growing orange glow outside the cell. “There’s a fire!”
“Get… people… out,” Cesare managed, stumbling. Dr. Stein climbed down from the gurney, wincing, and steadied him.
“Okay,” he nodded. “I can’t see very well, but… I’ll help you.”
Meanwhile, Jane had unlocked the first of the cells, ushering two patients out. She moved to the next one, where the drugged doctor sat, staring at the fire.
“You need to get out of here,” she said.
He looked at her. “Why?”
“There’s- there’s a fire. Don’t you see it? If you go now, maybe you can make it out in time.”
“But the director told me not to leave,” he said, his voice plaintive.
“That doesn’t matter! You could die if you stay here!”
He put a hand into his pocket, then withdrew it. It was empty. “Would you like a treat?” he asked, dazed.
“The director told me to escort you out,” she lied. “Come on; you don’t want him to be upset with you.”
He gave her a suspicious look. “I only take orders from the director,” he said. “If he wants anything from me, he’ll ask me himself.”
“He’s- he’s busy right now with the patients,” Jane insisted. “Soon, this entire hallway will burn down; you can’t stay here.”
He offered her a nonexistent candy again. “You’re a very good patient,” he said.
Jane could hear the fire crackling louder; it must have begun to spread. She wanted to get everyone out alive, but if this man refused to leave the cell, he was endangering the lives of everyone else.
“Miss Olsen!” Dr. Stein called, waving her over. She covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve, and looked towards him. “I need your help!”
“But this man- he’s your colleague!”
“We don’t have enough time; there are too many lives at stake! Give me the keys; I’ll get everyone else out. I’m worried about Cesare’s lungs; you take him and Francis, and I’ll focus on the patients and the rest of the staff.”
“But what if they don’t want to leave? Can’t we do anything to help them?”
He looked at her sternly. “We do what we can.”
She didn’t think that answer was very reassuring, and looked at Cesare to see what he thought, but he offered no response. Reluctantly, she handed Dr. Stein the keys, and grabbed the handle of the gurney, finding it had conducted a considerable amount of heat. “Get Francis off of there,” she told Cesare. “It’s too hot.”
His arms were aching, but he grabbed Francis again, and they both carried him out.
When they arrived in the lobby of the asylum, they found it in pure pandemonium. As they gasped for air, they were greeted by the sight of doctors hauling screaming patients out the doors, shouting over one another and pushing their way through the chaos. Cesare groaned, screwing his eyes shut; the heat and the noise and the crowds and the weight of a body in his arms made him feel as if his head was about to split open. A pillar of dark smoke bloomed out of the hallway they had come from as people rushed in and out, and Jane hoped there wasn’t anyone left in there beyond saving. She scanned as many faces as she could, but Caligari was nowhere to be seen. Could it be…?
Cesare screamed again, interrupting her thoughts. His eyes were wide open and panicked, and he retched as he struggled to breathe.
“We’re almost there,” Jane said. “Keep holding on.”
“Do not… want…!”
“I know. But we have to; we need to get out. I’m right here with you.”
“Nobody… wants… you,” he muttered to himself.
“No, no! He was lying; I care about you. We’ll get flowers when we get home, remember?”
He looked down at her. She couldn’t tell if his eyes were watering from the smoke or if he was crying, or both. Without another word, he kept moving, and they pushed their way through the doors, where they could see a growing crowd of evacuees outside. With relief, Jane recognized her parents among them, looking sick with worry but otherwise unharmed. She looked around for Dr. Stein, but didn’t see him, and could only hope he was helping the other patients somewhere. Cesare, frightened by the size of the crowd and overwhelmed from the fire, slackened, gasping for air.
“We made it,” Jane breathed, as she and Cesare set Francis down. “We-”
“Please!” She heard a voice cry behind her, and turned to see one of the patients- the woman who carried a doll in place of her child- screaming as two doctors hauled her out. “My baby! Somebody save my baby!”
“We’ll get you a new baby, Mathilde,” one of the doctors said. “Come on.”
“No!” she cried, twisting in their grasp. “I want my baby!”
Jane looked behind them, to see the flames rapidly spreading. In the center of the burning lobby lay the shape of the baby doll. She took one more glance at her parents, and without thinking, threw off her shawl and raced back into the asylum. Cesare, collapsed on his knees and breathing hard, scrambled back to his feet. He wasn’t sure why she’d run back in, but knew he couldn’t lose her. With another bedraggled gasp, he struggled after her.
Jane glanced around the destruction that surrounded her, the sinister patterns on the walls bubbling and rippling in the heat. Keeping her eyes on the doll, she stumbled through the fire, transfixed with her arms stretched out in front of her, her white dress in sharp contrast to the smoke and flames that engulfed the asylum. She reached the doll and, coughing, stamped out the embers on its dress before picking it up. As she turned around, she heard a wheezing noise, and came face to face with Caligari, leaning on his cane and hacking from the smoke, which fogged the lenses of his glasses. A beam fell behind them, causing the flames to roar up higher.
“Leave…!” Cesare choked, stumbling towards her. Caligari whirled around, blindly grabbing at him. He seized him about the waist, grinning despite his labored breathing.
“I always knew… we’d burn together,” Caligari wheezed out. “We’ll burn forever, Cesare. You will melt, white-hot-” he coughed- “into my arms… we will be fused together… as we were always meant to be…”
Cesare shook his head, and twisted violently, flinging Caligari back. He stumbled back as the first of the embers ignited his strawlike hair, lighting into a blaze. With a tortured noise, he attempted to extinguish it, but the flames were already beginning to spread onto his cloak and singe his skin, causing the frames of his glasses to melt. Cesare watched in silent horror as Caligari fell to the ground, writhing in agony as a terrible burning smell filled the air. There was pink and red and yellow and white, and eyeballs and teeth and things Cesare couldn’t recognize. Caligari reached out to him in desperation, his white gloves charring black and skin erupting into violent blisters as the fire devoured it from those always-starving hands. Cesare didn’t know why, but he reached back towards Caligari, grabbing for his hand before it sizzled and burned and melted into something that more closely resembled the porridge he forced Cesare to eat than it did a human appendage.
Cesare couldn’t help but continue to stare at what had once been his former master, his arm still stretched out towards the burning heap on the floor.
I didn’t mean to kill him, he thought.
Should I have meant to?
“Cesare…”
He wrenched his eyes away from the smoldering remains, to see Jane doubled over on the ground, struggling to breathe. He barely had any strength left in him, and everything ached. She held the half-burned doll in one arm, and stared up at him with pleading eyes. The crowds and the heat and the asylum and the exhaustion- and if he touched her-
She coughed heavily, her chest heaving as she attempted to draw herself up, her long sleeves fanning out on either side of her like the wings of a wounded bird. Under the folds of her dress, her leg was twisted at an odd angle; a piece of charred debris had fallen onto it. “Cesare, help me…” she managed in a ragged voice.
Nobody wants you.
As she slackened onto the ground, still holding the doll, Cesare reached down, his hands shaking. He remembered that terrible night- but the smell of burning flesh still hung heavy in the air. He couldn’t let what happened to Caligari happen to her, too. He hauled her out from under the debris, although his eyes stung and his lungs were screaming and everything was just so, so heavy. She winced in pain as he lifted her up, her injured leg twitching as he positioned her in his arms. He flinched; he didn’t want to hurt her. If I hurt her, I am bad.
“Don’t- don’t drop me,” she cried, gripping onto his bony shoulders.
Nobody wants you.
He wondered if Caligari’s final screams would ever leave his mind. Why did he reach for him? Should he have wanted him to burn? If he did, what did that mean?
Nobody wants you.
Behind him, a groaning sound reverberated through the air- beams of wood were creaking and crashing around them. The fire was beautiful, he realized- an array of colors and shapes that flickered and danced in a dazzling show of luminosity. If he surrendered to it, then he would go quickly. He almost wanted to fall, close his eyes, and let it all take him. But through the roaring noise of the flames, he could faintly hear Jane struggling to breathe. He pushed himself forward, willing himself not to let go of her.
Nobody wants you.
He reached the door and burst outside, falling to his knees. He felt Jane drop from his arms, and his head ached as a wave of unintelligible voices surrounded him. The last thing he felt was someone’s hands grabbing hold of him as everything went black.
Nobody wants you.
-
“Jane!” someone sobbed. “Jane, can you hear us? Speak to us, dear! Tell us you’re all right!”
Jane’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped, finding herself propped up in a cot. Her father held a compress to her forehead as her mother stood by, both in tears. “Found the doll,” she murmured. “Leg… hurts.”
“What are you talking about?” her father demanded. “What doll?”
“Cesare…” she groaned, before bolting upright. “Where’s Cesare?!”
Her parents exchanged glances. “What do you mean by that?” her father asked. “Doctor, you’re more well-versed in the ways of the mind than I am. Is this some sort of trauma response? Why is she calling for that monster?”
“With all due respect,” Dr. Stein’s voice came, “you are incredibly wrong; that monster saved her life. Had he not rescued her in time, she would have burned or asphyxiated to death.”
“Is he okay?” Jane asked. “Where is he? Is he hurt?”
Dr. Stein took her hand. “Cesare’s just fine,” he reassured her, motioning to the cot beside hers. “I brought him here myself.”
Dr. Olsen peered over at the cot, where Cesare lay sleeping in a hospital gown instead of his usual leotard, his emaciated form rising and falling. Bandages were wrapped around his skeletal limbs and fingers, but he seemed otherwise stable. “Regrettably, I have to treat him,” he said. “I took an oath, and he is in need of medical care.”
“Thank you,” Jane gasped, and squeezed her father’s hand. “What about Francis?”
“In a different ward,” Dr. Stein said, “being treated for the injection; he received a highly concentrated dose of it. But I’ll try to make sure you can see him once he recovers.”
“And I’ll try to make sure the creature stays far away from you the minute he’s out of here,” Dr. Olsen said.
Jane shook her head. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she said, looking at both of her parents, and took a deep breath. “Cesare’s my friend.”
Dr. Olsen’s eyes widened behind his glasses as his wife gasped, steading herself on the wall.
“Caligari was controlling him,” Jane explained, “and made him do those awful things- but thanks to Dr. Stein, he’s free now. All he wants is to be cared for-” she smiled- “and to dance and look at beautiful flowers and eat the food he likes- but without him, I wouldn’t be here. Or Francis, or Dr. Stein. Please don’t send him away, or do anything to harm him. I promised I wasn’t going to abandon him, and I want to keep that promise.”
Dr. Stein looked down, sighing, as Jane’s parents exchanged glances.
“We can discuss that matter later,” her father said. “For now, our top priority is your recovery. Thankfully, you’re not severely injured, but you do have some burns and a wounded leg. It should heal in time, but you must get plenty of rest.”
“But will you promise he’ll be okay?” she asked. “You’ll do your best to help him, right?”
“I will do my best as a doctor. But I cannot promise anything beyond that.”
Jane leaned back into the pillow, looking over at Cesare. Even if they don’t, she determined, I’ll protect you. Even if it costs me my reputation, or whatever else it takes.
He stirred, and his eyes began to open.
You are wanted.