Work Text:
Daniel and Herbert had succeeded in snatching a corpse from the hospital morgue, again.
West always tried to convince Dan to find patients with deliberating diseases whose lives will soon end and finish them off, as a way to get ahold of fresh specimens. He tried to justify it by saying that they are “basically dead anyway” or that this way their death will mean something, but Cain always shut him down. Herbert might not be above murder, but Dan likes to think he still has some morals left, though that's difficult to keep up when one’s general company is Herbert West.
Morgue it is. West tended to bitch about the subjects there being old and basically rotting, but at the end of the day he always goes through with it, and retrieves a body as Cain loiters in the hallway, distracting any worker who even thought about entering the morgue.
They always go about this process late at night, ensuring that the hospital is as empty as possible. They’d carry out the reanimation in a locked morgue, then when the subject turns violent they kill it, and West slices it up. Easier to transport home that way and get rid of the evidence – and the parts will be used in future experiments.
…At least that's what Herbert says. Dan hasn't actually seen these “experiments” that his roommate conducts, and he's not sure he quite wants to.
A few years have passed since Megan died. At first, Dan was extremely distant. It's not just that he wasn't assisting Herbert in The Work anymore – that part could be validated, likely not a good idea for the man to witness the kinds of experiments West does after the Miskatonic Massacre.
But, no, it wasn't just Dan abandoning their work. It was also the way he made an obvious effort to interact with Herbert as little as possible. Throughout the day they would only exchange a few words, on the rare occasions Herbert got out of the laboratory and Dan out of his room.
Herbert understood that his assistant blamed him entirely for what happened to Meg, and likely resents him for it. Somewhat valid, he had to admit, but it's not like he was trying to get every possible thing that could go wrong go wrong. It's just their luck. They had a fair amount of arguments on the subject, Dan lashing out at Herbert after a particularly frustrating day, but they never actually talked about it. West hadn't gotten a good chance to defend himself or, hell, even apologising had crossed his mind. He disliked Dan’s depressive state and strongly disliked that he was the cause of it.
No matter, they’re alright now.
…Sort of. After a while Dan started going to the basement semi regularly. He rarely actually assisted Herbert but he seemed somewhat content just watching him work and speaking up at times. Herbert also made an effort to only reanimate small animals, no humans. This progress was good, amazing even when Herbert somehow managed to drag Dan on the field. He was against it at first, but West assured him that giving him something to do would calm his mind.
Now… Dan still sometimes freezes and stares blankly at a corpse, moaning in anguish after rebirth, but Herbert doesn't consider it a problem anymore.
Maybe he should have.
Cain stood outside the morgue, making up reasons people couldn't enter at that moment. He found it increasingly difficult to stay calm and static. Maybe it was being back on the job again, or the amount of people he had to ward off who all looked at him with suspicion. Or maybe his paranoia was just making him imagine that part.
He couldn't hear Herbert behind the door. It was possible that was actually a good thing – it could mean the reanimated subject awoke calm and thinking straight instead of immediately attacking Herbert. Although, that's never happened before and Daniel couldn't help but feel a wave of worry as he was straining to hear anything from the morgue that would signal Herbert wasn't in danger.
As if on cue, a loud crash emitted from inside the morgue, followed by a barely audible yelp from Herbert.
Dan immediately rushed in and froze when he saw the autopsy table was completely flipped over, partially blocking his way to… an undead man holding Herbert up in the air by the collar of his shirt.
The man heard Cain barge in and his eyes darted to him as he let go of Herbert and pushed him to the side. Dan was silently thankful that the man hadn't flung West across the room, like most subjects before him. The younger man had gotten too many concussions to count.
A second passed and the dead man’s hands were around his shoulders as he violently shoved him against a wall.
Dan squeezed his eyes shut as pain exploded in the back of his head on impact. Before he could think to defend himself, the man was on top of him, wrapping his hands tightly around Cain’s throat.
Dan was clawing at the man’s freezing, calloused hands, as he was staring deep into Cain’s eyes.
The eyes were always the worst part of a reanimated subject to see. Unblinking and glassy, they always carried an intense animalistic rage that the living could not replicate. But if he stared into those eyes intensely enough, like he did with his Megan – trying to hold her close as long as he could in her last moments even as she was clawing deep red marks into her boyfriend's face, he could always notice a deep sadness in them. As if the person that lived before the reanimation was still buried somewhere behind those eyes, begging to be let out. Maybe the conscious really does survive in the reanimation process, but not enough to control the body. Instead, it's forced to sit back and witness the pain and horror its shell is causing, unable to stop it.
Dan couldn't breathe. He could hear Herbert yelling his name, but he seemed so far away. His vision was getting blurry and spotty, he had no choice but to let his consciousness drift away.
"Dan… Come on…” Herbert whimpered quietly with his arms wrapped tightly around the unconscious man in his lap, gently rocking the two of them back and forth.
Dan woke up at last, to Herbert’s relief. He made an effort to open his eyes and was thankful that they were outside in the dark night, where direct light can't further worsen his migraine. Dan closed his eyes in contentment when he felt Herbert's soft fingers rake through his hair, somewhat soothing the pulsating ache in his head.
“Finally. Are you alright?” West said with a shaky voice, failing to be as composed as he normally is, while ever so slightly pushing Dan away, seemingly embarrassed by their closeness.
“Wha…? Oh, yeah… ” Dan muttered, his voice raspy.
“I thought he’d killed you...” West mumbled quietly, as if he didn't want Dan to hear him. The other man could see a twinkle in Herbert’s wide, glassy eyes as they quickly darted around their current environment in a panic as his hands moved steadily all over Dan – checking his pulse, lifting his chin to look at bruising on his neck, opening his eyes fully to shine a light into them.
“I couldn't carry you to the car… Someone probably saw me running out here with you. We need to move.”
West quickly got up, struggling to pull Cain along with him. At the sudden movement, Dan’s vision became grainy as he almost knocked Herbert over, but he could compose himself that much, at least. As long as he was leaning most of his weight on Herbert, who oddly wasn't complaining about having to carry his assistant.
West was breathing heavily as he was trying to readjust himself to counter for Daniel’s weight. After a moment he froze in place and just took the time to look at Cain. With mild panic, he took in how distant the man's gaze was.
“Dan?” Herbert whispered, his voice slightly cracking.
“I’m fine. Sorry… ‘m good…” The other man grunted out.
“Okay… Okay. Let's go home.”
They kept walking, Dan leaning into Herbert more than he realized, letting the other man guide the two of them to their vehicle. He didn’t have the energy to worry about where the car was or whether Herbert was in any state to drive. He just trusted him.
When they reached the car, Herbert opened the passenger door and eased Dan in – not quite gently, but not rough, either. He placed a steady hand on his shoulder and gave him a firm push to get him settled. Then he rounded to the driver’s side and climbed in without a word.
The ride was silent at first. Dan struggled to stay awake, blinking slow and heavy as the streetlights flickered by. Herbert gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had gone pale.
“Hey, Herb…” Dan rasped.
“Yes?” Herbert glanced over, genuine interest flashing in his eyes before he quickly turned back to the road.
Dan swallowed. “What… happened?”
Herbert was quiet for a beat, then answered with sharp precision. “The reanimated John Doe nearly strangled you to death. You lost consciousness from oxygen deprivation, but you seem fine now.”
He said it like it was just another medical report, but Dan heard the edge in his voice. Cain was usually the one left saving Herbert, the roles being reversed likely wasn't easy on him.
“Oh,” Dan murmured, gently rubbing his sore neck. “How long was I out?”
“Four minutes and forty-seven seconds,” Herbert replied without hesitation.
Dan nodded slowly. “Okay."
The rest of the drive passed in a blur of headlights and silence. Herbert kept flicking glances at him just quick enough to check he was still awake.
When they pulled to a stop, the abrupt motion jolted Dan upright. Herbert turned toward him fully this time, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. His brow was furrowed, eyes sharp and searching.
“I’m here, West,” Dan said, trying for a smile, though it came out lopsided and unconvincing. “Let’s go inside.”
Herbert didn’t answer, but after a moment, he gave a curt nod, stepped out of the car, and hurried around to Dan’s side.
Cain was more stable than before, not going limp against West and making his friend carry him. He could even lean against a wall on his own for a few seconds while Herbert fished his keys out of his pocket.
When they entered the living room space, Herbert helped Dan plop down onto the couch before disappearing into the kitchen, appearing moments later with an ice pack and a glass of water.
“Here.” Herbert said in a gentle tone while crouching down in front of his assistant.
Dan shivered at the first touch of the ice pack against his bruised throat, but as the cold settled into his skin, he sighed quietly at the relief it gifted him. His eyes fluttered shut, tension easing from his shoulders. Herbert didn’t say anything, just let him hold the ice pack in place while he carefully lifted the glass of water to Dan’s parted lips.
Dan drank greedily, his throat still sore, and Herbert watched every swallow like he was counting each second it took. When a droplet slid down the man’s chin, Herbert caught it with his thumb, wiping it away with a tenderness that surprised Dan, though he decided not to comment on it.
Herbert then reached up to examine Dan’s head. His fingers threaded through his hair, slow and methodical, searching for any swelling, warmth, or wounds in the skin. Dan leaned into the touch without thinking – Herbert’s hands were warm, steady, and weirdly comforting.
“No visible marks or swelling,” Herbert murmured. “I’m sure you’ve got a mild concussion, though. Your pupils are still reactive, which is good. You’ll need to stay awake for at least two hours. Can you do that?"
“Mhm…” Cain mused, eyes half-lidded as Herbert sat next to him on the couch, feeling the old cushion dent under his weight. “You’ll stay here?”
“Obviously. I’ll need to check your pupils every fifteen minutes and make sure you don't fall asleep until it's safe to do so.” Herbert stated, itching slightly closer to Dan.
“Right…” Cain mumbled, absent-mindedly curling in closer to Herbert.
“Thanks for… being here...” Dan murmured, reaching out and placing a light hand on Herbert's thigh.
The other man didn't respond, but went slightly stiff under Dan’s touch. Cain wasn't surprised by Herbert's silence, emotions and gratitude have never been his strong suit.
Even so, after a while West returns the touch with a delicate hand over Dan’s.