Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leaving the village wasn't going the way Karl had imagined it. Granted, he hadn't really spent that much time imagining what life would be like after Miranda had been turned to paste. He found that wishful thinking disturbed his effectiveness, and after hope,  dread, and worry usually soon followed. But in those rare moments of optimism, when Karl looked to the future with hope and eagerness, he had always pictured his departure from the village as something grand and heroic. A freedom fighter emerging from the ashes of his captor, bloody and bruised but free from his shackles at last. He'd pictured the air heavy with smoke and the burning stench of diesel and decay from his many Soldaten, scattered across the battlefield; their final resting ground. In his imagination, it was always quiet and at the crack of dawn. The painful howls from the lycans and the hateful voice from his mother would be long lost to the wind, as Karl left and never looked back.

The reality wasn't nearly as grand and far more practical. But what had Karl expected when traveling with a father? He glanced towards the blonde, who had Rose safely tucked against his chest, the little powerhouse wrapped in a thick blanket. She also wore a nice little winter hat with bear ears; one of the many things purchased from the Duke. Ethan had stuffed the rest of their wares into a duffel bag he'd found back at the cabin.

It had been decades since Karl had last seen the worn bag. It had been back at the cabin around springtime. He remembered it clearly. Marius had come in, his cheeks red from the chilly weather. The bag had been tossed to the floor as soon as the hunter had seen Karl waiting for him by the burning fire.

That had been the last time Karl had seen Marius alive. Miranda had gotten to him. He had been too careless and too high on... love? Lust? Karl wasn't sure. All he was sure of was that he'd been foolish, and it had cost him dearly. He made sure it never happened again. He had kept his heart under lock and key, protected from the outside world and Miranda. Hidden away and forgotten, until Ethan Winters showed up on his security cameras. And now that long-lost feeling came creeping back.

Maybe that was the reason why Karl had offered to take the heavy bag so Ethan could focus on the girls. And maybe that was why his chest fluttered whenever he caught the father glancing at him. Grey eyes met hazel orbs in a brief moment, which left Karl breathless. And when Ethan's thin lips lifted into a hesitant smile rather than a dangerous snarl, Karl's skin felt absolutely ablaze. He was at risk of being burned again, inflamed by Ethan's eyes and consumed by his very being.

Karl looked away as he once again found his thoughts and gaze drifting toward Ethan. Less than a day of being in the God-bringer's proximity, and he was already captivated by him, enthralled even. And the father didn't even know it. He was grateful for the cover provided by his hat and shades. It had been quite the surprise when Ethan had pushed both objects against Karl's chest, muttering something about not wanting to hear a word about it. Karl hadn't said anything. He'd been too shocked, but he had felt plenty. Longing, gratitude... happiness. Keeping his word, Karl hadn't mentioned it, but the knowledge that Ethan Winters, the one-man army, had brought him back his lost items settled like fire in the pit of his stomach, and he knew he would treasure it forever. He hadn't been given a gift in nearly half a century, and to think it would come from Ethan Winters.

"How much longer before we reach the town?" Ethan asked and looked toward Karl, who only shrugged. 

"It's hard to say. Miranda didn't exactly take us on field trips, you know. But it shouldn't be that far," he added. He didn't mention that he'd never actually been to the town. He'd seen it on a map. Years ago. Who knew if it was still there? They would just have to wait and see, besides, the loving father had enough to worry about. He didn't need to worry about their destination too.

Eveline followed closely behind Ethan, passing the time by following in Ethan's footsteps in the snow, occasionally challenging herself to skip a step and jump to reach the next one. Karl didn't care much what she did, as long as she didn't complain and kept up with them.

Ethan sighed and looked at Karl. The cold air made his cheeks flush red, in something that almost looked like a blush. Even his nose was red. "You said that an hour ago."

"Fine," Karl muttered and stopped. He shook the strap from the duffel bag off his shoulder and closed his eyes, "I'll give you a more detailed estimate, Papa."

Karl felt his body buzz and his skin heat up slightly as he flexed his electrical organ, stretching out his magnetic field. He knew his powers were strong and efficient, otherwise, he would never be able to hold his mutated form together, let alone move around and attack. But his usual tactics didn't require a large magnetic field, just big enough to cover his factory or his immediate surroundings. This was something else. Focusing on his breathing, Karl pushed the magnetic field forward, and the air around him grew heavy with unused potential. His skin prickled as he used every available surface on his body to create the electric pulses to wield his powers. He noticed the weapons still on Ethan's body and the coins in their bag. Pushing further out, he felt the subtle hum around him.  Here and there, he sensed scrap metal that had been left on the ground, hidden under the snow and the dirt. It was a good sign. It meant humans had been present at some point. 

Covering close to three kilometers, Karl felt the strain starting to set in. His muscles ached, and his skin burned with the effort to keep up the magnetic field. His electric organ pounded against his rib cage as it worked overtime. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and dripped down into his eyes. He gritted his teeth and kept going, ignoring the sound of Ethan's voice, too focused to make sense of the words.  That was when he felt it; the tell-tale pull of something magnetic. Something big and fast, too fast for Karl to catch it from this distance. But he didn't need to, he just needed to know that it was there. Grinning, Karl pushed just a bit further and felt even more metal showing up, big and small pieces neatly stacked together, along with the fuzzy static of electromagnetic waves. Letting go of the magnetic field, Karl exhaled and pressed his hand against his side, soothing the aching organ. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to over-exhaust it right after the biggest battle of his life. Well, you live and you learn.

"The town is about three clicks out," he said and opened his eyes, only to find Ethan staring at him with something akin to worry in his eyes. Karl quickly removed the hand from his side, not wanting Ethan to know about his limitations. He'd seen enough of those already. Narrowing his eyes behind his shades, Karl lifted his chin in defiance.

"What? You wanted to know how long before we reached town," he said, his words harsh and to the point. He picked up the discarded bag and shouldered past Ethan, ignoring the tiny flicker of... something in his chest. It was probably just his electrical organ flaring up.

He heard Ethan stutter some kind of reply, something about how Karl didn't have to do that, but that was ignored. The rest of the walk went in relative silence, except for Ethan occasionally calling out for Eveline to be careful if she strayed too far out. Soon, the trees started to thin out, and a road emerged. Ethan's eyes widened, and he let out a mixture of a relieved sob and a chuckle.

"I've never thought I'd be this happy to see asphalt," he grinned and started walking with renewed energy, "come on, you two," he called for Eveline and Karl. Even though he rolled his eyes and grumbled something incoherent, Karl couldn't stop himself from smiling. Seeing the father in such a good mood was infectious in the best way possible.

They followed the road until they reached the town. Karl's eyes widened at the sight. Logically, he knew Miranda had kept the village shielded from any outside influence for decades, but he would never have dreamed how much the world had really changed, while he'd been stuck in that hellhole. There were cars everywhere. At least twelve of them! Nice-looking ones with engines that purred as they moved effortlessly. The buildings looked sturdy and well-kept. There were sidewalks and functional lampposts and the amount of static in the air was deafening, making Karl's insides tense. He even spotted a grocery store with colorful displays of stuff that Karl had never seen before in his entire life.

"It's not much, but I'm sure we'll be able to find what we need," Ethan said, sounding almost disappointed, making Karl wonder just how much he'd missed. The Duke hadn't been kidding. The world had changed, while Karl had been stuck in the past. Nothing was as he remembered.

Swallowing down the fear and uncertainty, Karl adjusted the strap over his shoulder and glanced at Ethan, putting on his best smile. "Where to, Papa?"

Ethan ignored the nickname. Either he had admitted defeat, or maybe he'd grown to like it. Either way, Karl would continue to use it. It suited the man, plus it brought back fond memories of watching Ethan's eyes widen the first time Karl had purred the endearment. Because it was an endearment and not mockery.

Ethan looked around as he approached Karl, gazing up and down the street as he started digging around in the outer pocket of the duffel bag, where they'd stored their remaining coins. 

"We have a few Lei left," he said, and gathered the money in his hand, sticking it in his back pocket. "I'll try asking the shop owner in the grocery store if there's a bus coming through here or something," he then glanced at Karl and then Eveline, hesitating for a moment, before he looked back at Karl. "You should wait outside with Eveline."

Karl huffed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, what's the matter, Winters? Scared I won't be on my best behavior?" he taunted, barking out a laugh when Ethan nodded with no hesitation.

"Yes," he answered honestly and pointed at Karl and then Eveline, "stay put, both of you. And stay out of trouble. I'll be right back," he promised as he disappeared into the shop.

Karl shook his head and glanced at Eveline, who looked back up at him. Great, demoted from a powerful Lord to a babysitter. What a turn of events. Karl readjusted his grip on the duffel bag and started walking in the opposite direction. He'd felt several parked cars further down the street, which would take care of their little transportation trouble.  "Come on, kid."

Eveline hesitated for a moment, looking toward the shop and then to Karl, "Dad told us to stay put," she said, but she followed him nonetheless, half running to keep up with him.

"Yeah, Winters says a lot of things. Don't worry, kid. We'll be back before he even notices," he then added when he saw how the girl kept looking over her shoulder, like she was scared Ethan would pop out of the shop and start yelling at her.

She quickly caught up with him. Karl could feel her piercing, dark eyes glaring at him, but he didn't slow down. He had a mission. If Ethan wanted to fumble around with his barely understandable Romanian and put his faith in a means of transportation that was highly unlikely, that was fine by Karl. He didn't mind being the provider once again.

"Where are we going?" Eveline asked and looked back toward the shop for the tenth time.

"We're already here," Karl grinned as he stopped in front of a mostly abandoned parking lot. Well, parking lot was a big word. It was a huge path of dirt surrounded by low wooden beams. Three cars occupied the space. The parking space was located in front of what Karl assumed was a bar. Even though it was daytime, music and smoke poured out from the blacked-out windows. He supposed some things never changed. With nothing much to do in a village, people could always drink.

"This place is a dump," Eveline scrunched her nose and glanced around, looking very unimpressed.  She followed as Karl made his way across the parking space.

He took in the sight of the cars. They looked so different from the last time he'd seen one in its entirety. All he'd worked with in the past three decades had been scrap and pieces from cars and whatever else machinery he could get his hands on. But this was a working car. Not just a car engine or a battery, or the battered truck he'd used to transport the corpses from the graveyard in the early days of his operation.  Karl's fingers itched with the need to pop open the hood to take a look at what was inside, to take the whole thing apart in an attempt to figure out how everything worked. And how it could be improved. Maybe later, when the dust had settled.

Stopping in front of a Volkswagen-- Karl had worked with their engines once or twice before, and he hadn't been disappointed-- Karl turned his attention back to the girl. "Go back to the store and get Ethan. Tell him to be ready," he said as he flexed his electrical organ, feeling all the metal in the car hum in response.

"Ready for what?"  Her demanding tone was almost as obnoxious as Angie's, and conditioned anger surged to the surface.

Karl gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw hard to avoid snapping at the child. He knew Ethan wouldn't like that. But why couldn't she just listen? Had it been Angie, Karl would have lashed out, maybe even attempted to destroy the pesky toy, even though he knew it would displease the Doll-maker. Of all his 'siblings', Donna was the most tolerable as long as Angie wasn't around, of course. He would yell and threaten Angie, but he couldn't bring himself to lash out at Donna. That would be like kicking an already beaten puppy. She was pathetic and miserable, yet she did nothing to change her fate.

Weak.

Unlike the demanding child standing behind him. From what he'd gathered, Eveline was determined and resourceful. Naive and uncoordinated, but still. At least she made an effort, and for that, she had Karl's respect. Maybe that was why he hadn't given in to the destructive impulses of lashing out. That and the knowledge of the consequences if he did. Miranda hadn't cared about him and his siblings. She didn't care what they did to each other, as long as no one died. But Ethan would care. Even if Karl didn't harm the young one, he was sure Ethan would care. He could almost imagine the look of anger and disappointment on his face. And then what would happen? Would Ethan kill him? Would he banish him and leave him alone in this strange new world?

Karl didn't want to risk it.

Karl glanced at the black-haired child over his shoulder and flashed her a confident grin. "You'll see," he drawled, and then gestured for her to run along. She did not look impressed.

"I'm not running errands for you," Eveline lifted her chin and crossed her arms, standing her ground.

Karl closed his eyes and counted to ten in his head, willing down the anger. Yelling would not help, he reminded himself. Neither would pushing her down into a dark pit filled with killer contraptions, which happened to be his favorite strategy. How in the world did parents not end up killing their young?  He slowly turned around and faced the young girl. Eveline squared her shoulders as if she were getting ready for a fight. As if she anticipated pain. Karl huffed briefly. Well, it would seem like he wasn't the only one who'd learned that human interaction resulted in suffering more often than not.

He squatted down in front of her and looked up at her. The condescension wasn't lost on either of them. He smiled at her, but the gesture lacked any warmth and showed too many teeth. "This isn't a discussion. Either you leave on your own, or you leave like a damn pincushion," he said his merry tone and strained grimace contradicting each other. Eveline stayed put. The nails in the fence rattled as if to underline his point.

"Go!" He finally snapped, the anger surging forward, heating up his body from the inside out, releasing a wave of static as it reached the surface of his skin.

Eveline stepped back, like her survival instinct had finally kicked in. Fear flashed briefly across her features. Karl was sure that if he hadn't spent the last three decades perfecting the art of masking his own fear and conditioned fight-or-flight response, he would have missed it. It was such a quick and subtle change. It lasted only a second before Eveline had her facial features back under control. But Karl had seen it. He'd seen the terror and the fear of getting hurt again, the brief moment of helplessness, and the anticipation of unstoppable pain. He almost felt bad for being the one who ignited such a response in her. It made him feel too much like Mother Dearest.

Pushing the thought away, Karl rose to his feet and looked down at Eveline. He held her gaze for a brief moment before he nodded towards the way they'd come.

"Go," he repeated, calmer but still with the same steel edge that left no room for arguments.

Eveline took a step back. Then other, before she finally turned around. "Dad should just dump your ass here," she muttered under her breath as she walked away.

Oh, how Karl wanted to call her back and order her to repeat what she had just said, louder this time. He wanted her to face the consequences of her disrespect. But he didn't want to be like Miranda. Mother had always been fond of public humiliation and reprimands, using it as an opportunity to tear her children down while setting an example for the others. He did not want to be like Miranda.

Karl waited until she was halfway down the street before he turned his attention back to the car. There were a lot more electrical components than he had anticipated. It made his old dusty pick-up truck back in the village look like an absolute relic.   Even the lock in the door seemed to be electrical. Well, that just made it easier for him.  Taking off one glove, Karl pressed the palm of his hand against the door handle and let the electrical current inside of him reach the surface, frying the lock. He opened the car door and threw the duffel bag in the back before he got inside. Pushing the seat back to better accommodate his frame, Karl reached out with his power. He rotated his hand along with the mechanical ignition in the car, grinning from ear to ear when the engine roared to life. He just hoped whoever owned the car was too day-drunk to notice. And even if they weren't, Karl didn't plan to stick around for long.

Slowly closing his fingers around the steering wheel, Karl familiarized himself with the vehicle, getting a feel for how responsive it was. It acted differently than the old truck and the shared tractor that the farmers used. The coupling point felt way off compared to what Karl was used to, and the engine died several times, forcing Karl to restart the ignition process. But in the end, he managed to get the car out of the parking spot.

Pressing the gas pedal down, Karl laughed as the engine roared. It held so much power and potential. So much better than the junk from the village.  He sped up the street, unable to stop himself from smiling like a maniac. So this was what freedom felt like! The houses and storefronts flashed by, and before long, he had to slow down as the store where he'd left Ethan came into view. Ethan stood outside, Rose cradled on one arm, while he held Eveline's hand with the other. Karl stopped right in front of them and leaned over to open the door to the passenger seat, and pushed it open.

"Get in," he ordered.

Ethan looked shell-shocked as he leaned forward to look into the car, his eyes darting back and forth as his mouth opened and closed. No words came out. Karl took that as a good sign.

"Come on," Karl prompted and pushed down his shades, so he could look at Ethan over the rim. He flashed the father a teasing grin when their eyes met. "Before the owner finds out his car is missing."

That got Ethan going. He cursed under his breath as he let go of Eveline, only to open the door to the backseat, gesturing for her to get in.

"Put on your seat belt," he told her, which was probably a good idea, because Karl wanted to test the limits of this wonderful car. He could feel the cylinders hum and the therapeutic rumble from the engine, and he wanted to know what it sounded like when he pushed both as far as he could.

Once Ethan had made sure Eveline was safely strapped in, he got into his own seat and put on his seat belt, all the while glaring daggers at Karl. It was the same fierce look Karl had witnessed when Ethan had pushed back against the metal plate, with far more strength than what should be possible. The fury and desperation reflected in Ethan's eyes had stolen Karl's breath away, and in a brief moment of insanity, he'd toyed with the thought of letting Ethan go, just to see what the father would do to him, what he was capable of when pushed to the limits.

He held that same fierce look now, the same aura of stubbornness, as Karl restarted the engine and drove away. Although the look lacked the sharp edge of desperation, which led Karl to believe that, despite the murderous gleam in Ethan's eyes, Karl wasn't about to be shot point-blank with his shotgun. That had to count as an improvement in their relationship.

But the fire in Ethan's eyes grew in strength as the seconds passed by, along with the buildings outside the car. Ethan held Rose tightly to his chest, clinging to the grab handle with his free hand, holding so tightly his knuckles turned white. Karl didn't know what all the fuss was about. So far, they hadn't hit anything, and the car engine hadn't died once. Sure, Karl knew nothing about street signs, speed limits, or traffic laws. The only law that had counted back in the village had been that the biggest vehicle commanded the roads, and it was everyone else's job to get out of the way. He supposed the rules were different in the rest of society.

"Blinkers! Use the blinkers!" Ethan yelled when Karl took a sharp left turn, cutting off another car in the process.

"Easy, Papa. I had eyes on the other car," Karl tried to reassure him, but Ethan's death grip didn't loosen. He turned his head to look at Ethan and offered him a cocky smile, but the hazel eyes were fixed on the road ahead of them.

"Keep your eyes on the road, goddamnit!" Ethan shook his head, his face pale and eyes wide. "No, I can't do this. Stop the car, we're switching. I said stop the damn car, Heisenberg!" His tone grew cold, with that dangerous edge, that sent shivers down Karl's spine. The determination and veiled threats hidden behind the words curled around Karl's mind and strapped him in, like a leash.

Karl stopped the car.

Ethan opened the door and got out, storming to the front seat and tearing open the door. He leaned down to glare at Karl.

"Get out," he commanded. A smile spread across Karl's face. There he was, the man who hadn't blinked when he'd ripped meat hooks free from his flesh, and who didn't hesitate even in the face of certain death. Karl took in the sight of the father. Even with his daughter back in his arms and a spare sitting in the backseat, the fire within the father hadn't died down. Truly fascinating. No wonder the man was still standing. Without the fire, he would have succumbed to the pressure and trauma. He'd witnessed things that no parent or partner ever should. No wonder Karl had been captivated by him the moment he'd shown up on his security cameras, huffing and puffing with two fingers missing.

"Easy, papa," Karl snorted and glanced up at Ethan as he held up his hands in mock surrender, "I was just getting the hang of it."

"No, you were just about to get us killed, or kill someone else, and then we would be equally screwed," Ethan argued, his harsh tone leaving little room for argument or negotiation. He sounded just like he had when Karl had first introduced him to his deal. He feared it would end in a similar fashion if Karl tried pushing him on this. And while he had enjoyed their little brawl and pushing the father's buttons, now was not the time for it.

He knew that logically, but actually giving in and allowing Winters to take control was something completely different. For as long as he could remember, Karl had been used to taking care of things himself. There had been no one to help him or for him to rely on, and that had been fine by him. If he wanted something done properly, it was best to do it himself. That had been his way of life. And along came Ethan fucking Winters, demanding that Karl gave up control just like that. The arrogance would have been admirable if it hadn't been equally as infuriating. But starting another fight wouldn't benefit either of them.

Karl's eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he glared up at Ethan. The tight set of Ethan's mouth didn't budge, and when their gazes locked, there was something burning just behind those hazel eyes -- something sharp, unflinching, and battle-worn. A flicker of something primal twisted in Karl's gut. It didn't take much to imagine what Ethan must have looked like taking down his other siblings; Ethan drenched in gore, standing over the broken bodies of his siblings, his chest heaving, his body sore but still ever so unstoppable.

Karl's grip on the steering wheel tightened until it cracked beneath his fingers.  He gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath.

"Fine," he growled as he reluctantly let go of the steering wheel and got out of the driver's seat, "have it your fucking way." 

They stood locked in place, the open car door between them like a line drawn in the sand.  Ethan's glare was all clenched jaw and thundercloud eyes, and Karl matched it with a cold, calculated look, daring him to make the first move. The silence stretched, thick and volatile, humming like a live wire. The air between them grew thick with tension-- hot and choking, like standing too close to an idling diesel engine.  All it would need to explode was a small spark, and then everything would go up in flames.

Karl could see it clear as day, lurking just beneath Ethan's skin; conditioned rage and abandoned self-preservation layered over exhaustion like old paint. Was that what Ethan needed? Was he still so pent up with repressed anger and frustration? Did he needed another excuse to let go of all that twisted shit inside of him?

 Well, too fucking bad. Karl wasn't interested in trading one leash for another, even if it came in the form of an attractive American blonde. He was fine with poking the bear and helping Ethan realize that he was just as twisted as the rest of them, even better if it resulted in Karl's cock inside of Ethan. But he did not sign up to be the man's personal punching bag.  Maybe another fight between them was inevitable.

Karl's body tensed, and the air shifted again as the magnetic field twisted around them. If Ethan wanted a fight, Karl would give him one. But then something happened, something strange and unpredictable, that it took Karl's brain several seconds to process. Ethan reached out to him, but instead of digging his fingers harshly into Karl's duster, like he was trying to break the skin hidden underneath, the touch stayed gentle and hesitant.

"Just let me focus on driving, and you can focus on holding Rose," he muttered and nudged Karl around the hood of the car, and before Karl had a chance to respond, he was sitting in the passenger seat with a baby in his lap.

Karl was at a loss for words.  He glanced between the babbling baby and her father several times to make sure that it had really happened. He had seen the lengths Ethan had gone through to get his little Rose back, and now he'd entrusted her to Karl. Why? Because letting him hold her had been deemed the lesser of two evils? Had Ethan figured that her survival rate would be higher if she were with Karl, and Ethan was driving the car instead of Karl? 

Even if that were the case, it still didn't overshadow the fact that Ethan let Karl hold his Rose. He was flattered by it, touched even.

Which was a dangerous thing.  It meant he was at risk of falling completely for the man, who only saw him as a means to an end, as a guard dog and an occasional fuck. But by the Megamycete, it was so easy to forget that, when Karl sat in the passenger seat, with the man's child cradled in his arms, while Ethan effortlessly started driving, blending into the traffic like it was no big deal. Just another car on the road. The fight had died down, and so had the storm in his gaze, leaving Ethan with dark circles under his glassy eyes. But his mouth kept running, talking about what their next step should be, what they needed to really prepare themselves. And before Karl managed to interject, Ethan started listing all the items they would need to get their hands on, which ranged from baby wipes to a burner phone. Karl listened to the rhythm of his voice rather than the content of the word flow.

 At this point, Karl didn't really care. He had seen his plan to the end, and had yet to formulate a new one. Not that he really dared to do that, at least not for now. Because making a plan meant thinking ahead, planning, and hoping for a future that might not come to be. And as soon as one started to hope, the pain of falling short could be devastating. And Karl had been through enough pain for several lifetimes already. So if he could spare himself even an ounce of suffering by not getting his hopes up, he would. But Ethan did make it hard for him. Karl's chest fluttered and his heartbeat quickened whenever Ethan referred to something that to something that 'they' needed to do, not just him... They.

Hope.

Such a dangerous sensation. And if Karl knew better, he would smother the embers before they ignited a fire within him. So he let Ethan ramble on, not challenging him or giving his input.  For now, he was content with being allowed to tag along with Ethan and his band of freaks. He needed to stay focused on that and not get caught up in wishful thinking. Karl was sure that if the Duke hadn't held out Karl's passport along with theirs, Ethan would have left him in the village. He was allowed a seat in the car because it was convenient and because he was still of use.

The truth hurt, but Karl had survived pain far worse.

So instead of thinking of what could be, Karl focused on what was right in front of him. Ethan's constant talking; a nervous habit, perhaps, or was it a strategy to stay awake? A child in his arms and another one behind him. Karl had never been fond of kids, but somehow it was refreshing to see that something young and living could come out of the village. And then there was the God-bringer himself. Ethan Winters, in the flesh. No longer stuck in an endless cycle of fight or flight. Now, Karl got to see him in a new, almost domesticated light.  And then there was the other side, the one that Ethan wouldn't even admit to himself yet, but Karl had seen it yesterday, tiny cracks in Ethan's bristling armor that hinted at the need for something softer, something almost loving. It had taken every ounce of willpower not to give in and indulge. He knew what he was like as a harbinger of death, and now he was offered glimpses of what Ethan was like as a father. A simple man, hiding his brilliance behind a protective layer of everyday clothing and repeated day-to-day activities. Back at the cabin, Karl had longed to cup Ethan's jaw and turn his face so he could properly kiss him and see him. He had a feeling Ethan wanted it too, deep, deep down, past conscious thoughts and well-thought-out actions.

Karl knew better than to get his hopes up, but he was a greedy man, so he settled for clutching whatever crumbs Ethan deemed him worthy of: a soft smile, a playful wink, or a daughter offered to be held by Karl. He took it all and stored it safely in his mind. Even if Ethan decided that teaming up with him had been a mistake and left him to rot, Karl would still have the memories of brief moments of fragile peace and happiness. When Ethan glanced at him with his big hazel eyes, the risks of being burned became worth it. Ethan could ask for the moon on a string, and Karl would find a way to bring it to him.

Chapter Text

The car ride dragged on, and Karl couldn't remember the last time he'd sat still for so long. Usually, he was always at work, always busying himself with something, whether that was pulling out internal organs to prepare the next corpse for his modifications or scribbling frantically in his journals. His thoughts were always racing, no matter what his hands were doing. Sitting still without a problem to solve or a machine to tinker with proved difficult. At first, Karl had occupied himself with studying Rose, using the sudden proximity to get a good look at her and get a feel of the immense powers hidden behind her innocent facade. He could feel it surge right underneath her skin, powerful and dormant. No wonder Miranda had been scared of her. But there was only so much he could learn from just watching her. If he wanted to learn more, he would have to dig deeper, see how she reacted to certain stimuli, and study her behavioral patterns. The tiny seat in the car offered no such possibilities, and when Rose fell asleep, Karl's mind moved on to the next topic of fascination: his surroundings.

It had been decades since he'd last left the village, and while the wilderness looked the same, the small villages and cities they passed had changed drastically. He soaked it all up, like a machine collecting data to be analyzed. He combined the visuals with the input from his sensation of the magnetic fields and the strange abundance of radio waves and electric signals. The air buzzed with them, and the sensation only grew in intensity whenever they drove closer to civilization.

His fingers itched to write it all down. He longed to document everything he was learning and pull apart every electronic device he could sense. He wanted to know how everything worked, how he could make them work for him instead. He wanted to understand this strange new world because the more he understood, the safer he felt. And right now, in his current position, with no research, no understanding, and nothing to keep himself busy, he felt exposed and vulnerable. Like a deer in a clearing, peacefully grazing, unaware of the lycans closing in. If only the deer had been paying attention to its surroundings. If only it had learned that the eerie quietness meant that a hunt was afoot, then it could have prevented the teeth closing around its throat, ripping it apart.

Karl didn't like feeling like prey.

If only he had been more prepared for what would come after the battle. Right now, Ethan was his only frame of reference.

Karl shifted in his seat, careful not to wake the baby. His muscles felt sore and his knee hurt like a bitch, but stretching wasn't an option. He glanced down at Rose's sleeping form. She was nestled in the blanket from the cabin, and her tiny chest rose and fell with her relaxed breathing. It was strange to think that the last time Karl had seen her intact, she had been screaming and crying, while Miranda tore her apart and placed her in the yellowed flask. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He supposed that for Rose, it felt like just a couple of hours ago. She had slept through the whole aftermath, and now she slept through the awful car ride. Karl almost envied her.

"How are you holding up?" Ethan asked and glanced at him and Rose, before he turned his attention back to the road. He'd taken a left turn a few kilometers back and followed a narrow road that ran parallel with the mountains. There wasn't much room, and more than once, Ethan had to slow to a halt at the side of the road to let some heavy farming machinery pass. The tractors they used around these parts made the one back in the village look like a mere toy.

"She's doing just fine, Papa. Just sleeping, nothing to be worried about," Karl muttered and shifted Rose in his arms for Ethan to see. He didn't want the God-bringer to think he had accidentally killed his child just by holding her.

Ethan glanced at her briefly before his gaze settled on Karl once more. "I was asking you," he then clarified, and Karl didn't know how to respond to that. 

What was he expected to say? That he felt like a fish out of water? That he felt like he had to relearn everything he thought he knew? That he caught himself thinking that he almost preferred the looming threat of Miranda rather than the uncertainty he was faced with now. At least with Miranda, he knew what kind of horrors to expect.

"Things have changed a lot," he ended up saying.

Ethan chuckled, the sound was light and filled with humor. It was warm rather than condescending. "I bet. From what I saw, you guys still lived in the Stone Age. Welcome to the 21st century. I'm sure it'll take some time to get used to," he said, still with that warm smile on his lips. And was that a dimple, Karl spotted?

"Don't worry about me, papa. I'm nothing if not adaptable," Karl drawled and looked at the blonde. He didn't want Ethan to think that Karl was useless and out of his depth just because he found himself in an unfamiliar situation. He would get through it. He always did. This wouldn't be any different. He could squash the fear down and bury it in the back of his mind. He could still be useful.

"All I'm saying is that it’s fine to feel out of one's depth at first. It will take some time to get used to. For all of us," he then added and licked his lips, refocusing his attention back to the road. "After Louisiana. I..." he paused, his gaze flicked up to the rear-view mirror for a brief moment, undoubtedly looking at Eveline sitting there. Karl knew a bit about what had occurred in Louisiana from his stolen notes. He'd read about how the seemingly innocent girl sitting in the backseat had been at the center of all of it. It still amazed him that Ethan had decided to bring her along and not just leave her consciousness to rot in the Megamycete. That's what he would have done. She had lost the battle. The strong will destroy the weak.

"After everything that happened, it took a lot of time to readjust," Ethan continued, "reentering the world felt impossible at first, like how could I even still be me after I had shot my wife several times? The me that reads the morning paper in my pajamas,  can't be the same me that used a flamethrower to burn a mutated monster woman alive."

Karl paid close attention to every word. It was one thing reading about the incident from second-hand sources, but hearing it from the man himself... that was an entirely different story. One that Karl was ready to soak up and pick apart. He had so many questions, not only about the Bakers, and the Mold, and the creature, disguised as a ten-year-old. He wanted to know about Ethan's role in it as well. He wanted to know how a John Doe such as himself managed to come out on top, and still function even though he had been faced with horrors that would have broken a lesser man.

"Everything felt strange. Like I couldn't believe that the world had just kept on spinning despite everything that had happened," Ethan chuckled, but the sound had lost its warmth, and it came out dry and humorless. "I remember how I often felt like I was still trapped in that place, like I was stuck in a time pocket, and I still had to claw my way back to reality somehow," he paused and licked his lips. Karl watched the movement while he held his breath, fearing that if he made even the tiniest sound, Ethan would stop talking.

"I can't even imagine what it must feel like for you. I mean, you were actually trapped in a time pocket. Both of you," he then added, and once again looked in the rear-view mirror. Karl did the same and watched how Eveline slowly looked up, her dark eyes clearly displaying the discomfort raging within her.

Eveline crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. "It's nothing like that," she lied. They all knew it, but Ethan was kind enough not to mention it, and Karl knew better than to rain down on someone else's defense mechanism.

"Besides, you can hardly call this reality. This is a dump. It's just trees and roads and nothing else," she argued, and Karl had to agree with her on that one. This was hardly anything compared to what was in store for them. The other shoe had yet to drop, and who knew how they would react to it?

Eveline shifted and leaned forward between the two seats, stretching the seat belt with her hands to accommodate the motion. Ethan raised a brow, but didn't say anything. Karl grinned. The harbinger of death really was a dad at heart. Kind and caring, and filled with constant worry.

"Are you sure we're not lost?" Eveline asked and looked at Ethan. "Do you even know where you're going?"

Karl grinned and tilted his head to look at the father. "She has a point, Winters. Do you even know where you're going?" he echoed Eveline's question, finding some childish joy in ganging up on Ethan with the brat. It had been a while since he'd been on someone's side other than his own.

"Somewhat," Ethan confessed, which didn't sound very reassuring, "if we keep heading northwest, we're bound to hit the border at some point. And the longer we can stay on the smaller roads, the better. Hopefully we'll be out of Romania before nightfall" he argued, which was a somewhat solid plan. Except for the part where Ethan expected himself to keep driving for at least three more hours. The man looked bone-tired, like he could collapse any second. He'd looked just the same back in the factory, before Karl had knocked some sense into him and literally knocked him out. He doubted that he could get away with knocking Ethan out a second time. Which meant it was time for a different approach.

"That's awfully optimistic of you, especially considering you don't really know where we are," Karl pointed out, and looked down at Rose when the girl moved around in her blanket bundle. "If we end up taking a wrong turn, we could risk heading straight back toward the village. And I don't think any of us wants that," he said, keeping his tone light and conversational. He knew he would accomplish nothing if Ethan started getting defensive.

Karl placed a hand on Rose's stomach and watched as the little one instinctively reached out for his thumb with her tiny hands. He could feel Ethan's gaze on him, but he didn't look at the man. Instead, he kept his gaze on Rose, pretending that she held his full attention, while in reality, he just waited for Ethan to warm up to him before he pushed further. Who would have known that the key to taking down the one-man army came in such a small package?

"How about instead of pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion, we stop in the nearest town to get some gas, a map, and some sleep," he pressed on as he slowly, deliberately lifted his gaze and met Ethan's eyes. He knew he'd won the argument when Ethan sighed and looked away, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. He hadn't agreed yet, but his silence spoke of assent.

Solidifying his victory, Karl reached out and placed a hand on Ethan's knee, grinning when the father tensed under his palm, but he didn't push Karl away or tell him to stop. A part of Karl wondered how far up he could move his hand before Ethan snapped at him to cut it out. Had the itch returned? Karl hoped so. He yearned for the familiarity of their push and pull, of being able to follow a script and actually do something instead of just sitting around. All the more reason to stop for the night and regroup.

"Look, Ethan," Karl started, and by the use of his first name, Ethan's attention snapped to him. Karl bit back a satisfied smirk. "You have done everything you could to throw Redfield off our tail. Taking a break and getting some much-needed rest won't erase the progress we have made," he spoke slowly, giving the man a chance to actually listen to him and take in the words. The last time he'd tried to reason with him, it hadn't ended well. Karl's side still hurt from where Ethan had stabbed him with his improvised spear made from Karl's broken workbench.  He didn't want another fight, not if he could avoid it. Contrary to what Ethan seemed to think, Karl didn't want to hurt him.

Sure, he liked to push his buttons and push the man as far as he would go, but that was all due to morbid curiosity and not the desire to harm the father. Of course, Karl wasn't sure if Ethan saw a difference. Maybe he did, and he just didn't want to acknowledge it. After all, it was easier to see things as black and white, good and bad, instead of shades of gray.

Ethan wet his lips and sighed, his fingers clenching and unclenching around the steering wheel. "I don't think that's a good idea." It was a token protest at best, and not a real argument.

"I like Karl's plan better," Eveline chimed in from between the front seats. "I don't want to drive anymore. I'm hungry and I need to pee."

Karl grinned and patted Ethan's thigh, allowing himself to linger for just a moment longer, before he pulled back, careful not to overstay his welcome in Ethan's proximity. "See, even the kid agrees. You're outnumbered here, Winters. So how about you turn towards the nearest town instead of being a stubborn asshole."

That earned him a sharp glare which made Karl's insides squirm in the most wonderful way. So maybe Ethan wasn't the only one a little fucked up when it came to the attraction department. He had spent so long studying the blonde from afar, reading about him and his family, and watching him on the grainy surveillance cameras scattered across the village. He had been obsessed with him ever since he'd learned about his existence. It had started out as a clinical curiosity, a need to find out what made the father tick and what kind of interesting secrets lay beneath his skin. He had watched and been the quiet admirer behind the classified reports and photos. And when push came to shove, and Ethan had barged his way into Karl's factory, the clinical curiosity had grown more and more intense, until it felt like Karl was burning up.

He felt the same heat now as Ethan held his gaze for a moment longer. Once again, he found himself studying the man, his gaze drinking in every feature and mannerism that was offered to him. The tension in Ethan's shoulders, the way a nerve twitched at the corner of a hazel eye. The way Ethan's thin lips parted when he sighed made Karl lick his own.  He watched for the hints of anger and fury, for the telltale way he narrowed his eyes and flared his nostrils when Ethan tapped into that twisted part of him, that had prevented him from pushing Karl away the first time he'd wrapped his hand around the father's cock.

It never came.

Instead, Ethan's features softened, and the lines around his eyes seemed to deepen, making him look older and more worn out. "Okay," he finally agreed, the fire in his tone and in his gaze dying down, leaving behind cold exhaustion.

"Okay," Karl echoed and then looked Ethan up and down, "want me to take over, Papa? You look about ready to crash. And that's not very reassuring when we're in a car," he joked, dragging out his words like a purr, masking genuine concern with forced bravado, shielding himself from the inevitable rejection.

"Don't fucking start with me, Heisenberg," he hissed, making Karl bark out a laugh, the protest reminding him of a feral kitten. Only this kitten's claws could do some serious damage if Karl wasn't careful.

"You got it, buttercup," he tried out the new nickname, glancing at Ethan from the safety of his shades to gauge his reaction. He watched as Ethan's lips pressed together into a firm line and a dark blush spread across his cheeks. That was interesting and something that needed to be explored in depth later. Karl wondered how far the flush would spread if he repeated the endearment, maybe while he had his hand down Ethan's pants, cupping him through his underwear. Would Ethan lean into him or push him away? Would he lash out to initiate something more rough and desperate? Or would he give in and allow Karl to take care of him?

"How long before we're there?" Eveline asked, breaking Karl's train of thought.

Ethan cleared his throat, and the blush slowly disappeared as he glanced at Eveline in the rear-view mirror. "Not that long. I'm pretty sure I saw a sign a while back that said 20 kilometers to the next town."

"How long is that?"

"About 20 to 30 minutes," Ethan answered, earning him a loud groan, like the spacing of the local cities was somehow his fault.

"But I'm bored," Eveline pushed on, and Karl was astounded by Ethan's ability to keep calm and not snap at the brat to shut up. Instead, Ethan smiled softly and chuckled, turning his head slightly to glance back at Eveline.

"Then, how about we play a game. It'll make the time pass a bit quicker," he suggested, and started explaining the rules to a game about a ship being loaded with different stuff, which needed to be memorized. 

Karl couldn't help but stare at the father, watching him intently as Ethan split his attention between driving and playing with Eveline. Karl had watched Ethan use his head before. He'd watched from afar as the man solved countless puzzles scattered around the village. Some of them were placed there by Karl himself, along with a healthy supply of weapons and ammunition. And a hidden camera, of course, allowing him to observe and admire the blonde as he fiddled with Karl's riddles. Seeing him using his brainpower for something as harmless as a children's game felt almost illegal. Karl couldn't look away.

Ethan truly was a father at his very core.  Those wonderful hazel eyes, that brightened whenever he praised Eveline or narrowed in concentration when he struggled to remember the ship's growing cargo. His interactions with the girl were so warm and bright, as inviting as a fireplace in the coldest of winters.

So very different from Karl.

Where Ethan aimed to heal, Karl was sharpened to kill.

His hands had dismantled bodies, opened ribcages, and pulled out hearts, and now he was holding Ethan's child, while the father and Eveline continued their game. How could such a thing even come to be?

Karl tensed when Rose stirred awake, her eyes slowly opening, and Karl almost expected her to start screaming. She didn't; instead, she looked up at Karl, like she was expecting something from him. Then she reached out with her small, chubby hands toward him.

"Oh no, you don't, sweetie," Ethan quickly reached toward Karl and snatched up the trinkets around his neck before Rose had a chance to grab hold of them.

 Ethan tugged at the collar of Karl's button-up shirt with his nimble fingers. All Karl could do was stare as Ethan dropped his necklaces down his shirt, hiding them from the curious toddler. The brief touch of skin brushing against skin stole Karl's breath away. It had been brief but voluntary. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt the warm touch of a living person without it being followed by pain... That was a lie. He could remember. It had been back at the cabin, when they'd fucked outside. Most of their encounter had been Karl's hands on Ethan's body, not the other way around. He'd provided a service, one that the father had desperately needed. But then there had been the way  Ethan's lips had wrapped around Karl's fingers, sucking him off so eagerly, like it was brought on by enjoyment rather than need. That thought alone had almost been Karl's downfall, and it had taken a lot of mental self-torture to stop himself from coming on the spot. And that wasn't a very safe memory to linger on, while he was sitting with Ethan's kid in his lap.

Clearing his throat, Karl schooled his expression into something more controlled, something practiced and approved as he patted the hidden trinkets. "Sorry about that. I'll make sure to keep them away from her," he muttered, hating the slight hoarse edge that had crept into his voice. At least he'd managed to get the words out without stumbling over the syllables or stuttering, which happened from time to time when he was taken aback or surprised by a social interaction. And it would seem that no one could surprise him quite like Ethan Winters.

Karl felt the weight of the father's gaze on him, but he refused to look up. Even behind his shades and under the cover of his hat, he felt too exposed. He didn't want Ethan to see how such a small touch was enough to rattle him. He had been one of Miranda's lords less than 48 hours ago, the strongest and most dangerous one, too. And while he knew Ethan could probably kill him, if he really put his mind to it, he did not want the father to view him as weak.

For once, he was glad when Eveline’s high-pitched voice broke the suffocating silence.

"Dad, it's your turn!" She reminded him and reached between the seats to nudge at Ethan's shoulder.

"Yes, yes," Ethan shook his head and focused back on the road, blinking several times like he was trying to reboot his brain. Karl did take a certain kind of pleasure in knowing that he wasn't the only one easily rattled. "Sorry, Evie. Um, let's see," he hummed and shifted a bit in his seat as his mind worked. " The ship is loaded with... pine cones?"

"Ha!" Eveline exclaimed, her wide smile could have been considered cute if one liked children.  "I already said pine cones," she pointed out triumphantly, "that means you lose!"

Ethan chuckled and shook his head, glancing over his shoulder at Eveline, "You're right. I admit defeat. Good job, Evie." The nickname rolled so easily off the father's tongue,  it was hard to imagine that he had once been the one to kill Eveline. And from the reports Karl had read, it hadn't been a pretty death. It had been dragged out and violent, a battle of wills, where Winters had come out on top. And there he was, playing games with Eveline, acting like she deserved a second chance. Acting like she was more than her previous actions.

"That means I'll get to decide the next letter," Eveline decided and grinned, leaving Karl with the impression that she wasn't going to make it easy for the father. He was starting to see why their battle in Louisiana had dragged out. The kid was just as stubborn as Ethan.

Ethan chuckled and nodded. "Deal. But let's save the game for later. We're almost there."

'There' meant a small town of whitewashed brick houses with terracotta roof tiles scattered along the winding, paved roads. Almost all of the roofs were accompanied by a satellite dish. Even from a distance, Karl could feel the ripple in the magnetic field and the telltale tingle along his senses. It was a small town, but still light years ahead of Miranda's village. So many new things and new sensations, and Karl couldn't help but take it all in.  Fenced-in gardens surrounded the small house, a mixture of well-kept patches of grass and empty garden beds. Karl was sure that in the summer, the gardens buzzed quietly with bees drifting through lavender and tomato vines. The town was surrounded by fields, most of them barren and covered by a thin layer of frost and snow, but Karl spotted a few patches of green here and there, filled with hardier crops.

Road signs pointed the way to the local library and the town hall. Ethan slowed to a crawl as they made their way through the town. The farther in they went, the more lively the town became. Children rode together on bikes, while their parents talked to each other over the white fences. A small group of teenagers had gathered around outside of a mini-mart, pooling their coins together while discussing what they wanted to get.  Cars lazily drove by, like they had all the time in the world. It was peaceful and quiet.

And so fucking overwhelming. Everyone seemed to carry metal and electronic devices on their person, pining their presence constantly, signaling Karl's senses and the learned need to be watchful and focus on the potential threat. His gaze flickered between the many people, focusing on the signals emanating from their pockets, feeling out the shapes with his powers, searching for any signs of threats. Mostly guns. He found none, but old habits died hard, and it was difficult to block out the constant feedback being thrown back to him.  He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to block out the constant static.

He needed a smoke.

Chapter Text

After driving around for a while, they finally located a gas station on the other side of the village. It held two pumps, with a small shop attached to it. The shop was nothing but glass frames and white, shining surfaces. It looked completely out of place with its bright signs and flashy commercials plastered all over the storefront.

"Left side," Karl muttered when Ethan hesitated to drive up to the pumps.

Ethan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and mumbled a soft thanks before he pulled the car up to the pump and got out of the car. Karl followed with a groan, his joints complaining after having sat down for so long. He held Rose safely against his broad chest as he shook his leg, trying to bring some life back to them.  Rose looked at him, and with no scale, compass, or dog-tag to hold her attention, she reached for his beard. He quickly held her at arm's reach. He had seen the baby stuff her entire fist into her mouth. She kept trying, being just as stubborn as her father. When her attempts proved futile, her face scrunched in displeasure and she started crying.

Karl froze and looked from the kid to Ethan, who had been in the middle of searching through their duffel bag. He quickly hurried over and took Rose from Karl.

"I didn't do anything," he defended himself, and held up his hands in mock surrender.

Ethan ignored him and lifted Rose above his head, and leaned closer. Karl grimaced when Ethan sniffed. What would he have done if the brat had soiled her diaper? Apparently detecting nothing, Ethan cooed at Rose and rocked her in his arms.

"I think she's just hungry and tired."

"So am I, but I'm not screaming about it." Eveline crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at Rose.

"You're a bit older than her, Evie. Rose doesn't know any better," Ethan smiled at Eveline, as he continued to rock the crying child, "we'll be able to rest soon. We just need to get some gas first."

Karl stayed behind as Ethan and Eveline went into the small shop, while carrying a still screaming Rose. The lungs on her were impressive, but Karl could have gone without the bone-chilling high pitch of her cries.  Even from outside, he could hear her, and he followed Ethan and Eveline's movements through the windows. He watched as Ethan smiled sheepishly at the cashier and gestured toward Rose. Small talk and coin were then exchanged.  Karl looked away and closed his eyes, tipping his head back as the setting sun licked across his scarred skin. The sunrays had no real power this time of the year, but Karl appreciated the effort nonetheless. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent some time in the sun. Most of his work had been underground or by the cover of night when he raided the graveyard. It felt strange being out in the open, without the constant looming threat of Miranda discovering him.

With his eyes closed, he tapped into his powers, expanding the magnetic field around him, sensing his surroundings. So many electronics, pinging back to him and altering his senses. So much input. So much potential. Miranda had made the right decision when she had decided to keep the village cut off from civilization. The things Karl would have been able to build if he'd had access to all of this.

The bell above the shop's door jingled, and Karl opened his eyes again, leaving all thoughts of what could have been behind. Ethan returned with the screaming infant in one hand and a steaming cup in the other. Eveline followed closely behind him, looking awfully pleased with herself. She was holding a bottle of water while she munched on something that looked like a chocolate bar.

Karl raised a brow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Ethan rolled his eyes at him as he passed.

"Don't start. She was hungry," he argued as he placed the steaming hot cup on the roof of the car, before he opened the trunk once again.

"And chocolate makes for a fulfilling meal," Karl drawled, his words wrapped in amusement and sarcasm, "and here I thought you were supposed to be a responsible parent, Winters." He tsked softly, enjoying the way his taunts made Ethan bristle. Karl didn't care about what the kid ate or when she ate. What he cared about was the way Ethan's cheeks flared up and the muscle under his eye twitched. The man was making it way too easy to tease him.

Gritting his teeth, Ethan dug around the duffel bag one-handed until he found Rose's formula and a clean bottle. "The pump's ready. Can you fill up the car while I take care of Rose?" he asked as he opened the door to the backseats and placed Rose down. He motioned for Eveline to hand him the bottle and started mixing the hot and cold water in the baby bottle until he got the right temperature.

"Sure thing, Papa." Karl pushed off the car and walked around it. He flipped open the fuel door and twisted off the cap, the familiar scent of benzine rising instantly. He pulled the nozzle from the pump and jammed it into the tank. He pressed the trigger, and the pump came alive with a blunt metallic cough, then the deep, steady churn of fuel moving fast.

Securing the trigger in place, Karl crossed his arms and leaned against the car, glancing in Eveline's direction. Still munching away on her chocolate bar while she pretended to balance on the white lines on the asphalt that marked where the cars were allowed to park. She held one arm out as she carefully placed one foot in front of the other.

"She really is just a kid."

Karl tensed at the sound of Ethan's voice. He hadn't heard him sneak up on him. He cleared his throat and looked away, annoyed that he'd been caught watching Eveline.

"Just like Rose is just a baby," he retaliated, his sarcasm clear in his voice.

Ethan's hazel eyes turned to him, his expression unimpressed, but not hostile, which was a nice change of pace. "Exactly. And Rose needs to be treated as a baby, just like Eveline needs to be treated as a kid," he stated, the firmness in his voice making it obvious that it wasn't up for debate. Kindness seemed to come so naturally for Ethan. His actions radiated warmth and compassion even in the face of defiance. So different from Miranda and her conditional love and ruthless approach. How could both of them be called parents when their methods of parenting differed so drastically?

Ethan eyed him for a moment longer, and when Karl didn't respond, he turned his attention back to Rose, continuing to bottle-feed her. Silence dragged on between them, only filled by the mechanical hum from the gas pump. The metal in the trigger clicked as the pump turned off, shutting down the sound. Karl went to retrieve the nozzle and put it back

"I don't think the town's big enough to have a motel or something like that. But I did spot a Bed and Breakfast sign a few streets back," Ethan said, and then paused, as he glanced up from Rose to look at Karl.

Karl looked back at him, waiting for him to go on, but Ethan didn't say anything. And that was when Karl realized, Ethan wasn't just voicing their next steps, he was conversing, trying to include Karl in the planning process. Like they had somehow gone from reluctant allies to hesitant partners.

Karl grinned and licked his lips as he caught the father's gaze, "It's worth a try. Besides, it would fit perfectly well for a loving family on a road trip," he drawled, enjoying the way a red blush crept across Ethan's cheeks, as the father huffed and rolled his eyes.

"You're such a dick," he muttered and shook his head.

"Correction. I'm your husband, so that makes me your dick," Karl pushed, earning him a scowl from Ethan, which in turn made Karl bark out a laugh.

"Asshole," Ethan shot back, and then quickly held a finger up in warning when Karl opened his mouth. "Don't," he hissed, making Karl smile smugly at him. He could get used to this. The playful banter instead of veiled threats and hostile negotiations. This was much more interesting. And pleasant, not that Karl would ever admit that to anyone out loud, least of all to Ethan.

"I didn't say anything," he held up his hands in mock surrender, but he couldn't stop a shit-eating grin from spreading across his features. He was thankful for his shades, otherwise, Winters would have seen the way the skin around his eyes wrinkled in amusement and fondness. He couldn't remember the last time he'd lost control over a smile like that. It wasn't tailored or practiced. It just existed in the fleeting moment between a bioweapon and an exhausted father. Another moment for Karl to treasure. Even if things went wrong, he would still have this.

"You didn't need to," Ethan grumbled and pointed at Karl with the empty bottle, "that grin said enough."

Karl continued to smile at the father and leaned forward slowly, forcing the man to take a step back. He didn't miss the way Ethan's breath hitched when his back connected with the side of the car, nor the way his gaze dropped automatically to Karl's lips. Karl chuckled and planted his hands on the roof of the car on each side of Ethan, making sure to leave room for little Rose between them. He was smart enough not to come between the god-bringer and his daughter.

"Oh, you don't know half of it, Winters," he purred, his voice laced with velvet, like he was sharing a secret with Ethan, and in a way, he was. Because it was true. Ethan didn't know half of what the deal meant for Karl. It was his ticket into the new world, a secure way to learn and adapt. And then there was that added layer, the one that had been born from Karl sweetening the deal and offering to take care of Ethan's itch. Ethan only knew half of that as well. He didn't know how long it had been since Karl had felt the touch of another person, or how he was prone to fall too hard and too fast without his layers of added protection.  Ethan didn't know how Karl was drawn to Ethan like a moth to a flame ever since Karl opened Ethan's file and started incorporating him into his plan to beat Miranda.

Ethan's breath hitched. Karl could feel it across his face. A part of him wanted to lean closer, to see just how far he could push the father.  And then there was that other part of him, the part that warned him that he was getting too close already. Getting attached was dangerous. It only led to pain and suffering. And Karl had already experienced enough of that for a lifetime. But it would be so easy to lean closer, trap the kid between their bodies, shielding her from the outside world, while Karl brushed his lips against Ethan's.

No. He was already getting too close to the flame as it was.

Karl held Ethan's intense gaze, watching a jumble of emotions flash across his features. He didn't reach for his gun, nor did he lean closer, leaving them in their current limbo. Self-preservation kicked in, and Karl pulled away, creating some distance between them.

"You said something about a Bed and Breakfast place?" He prompted Ethan, offering them both a chance to return to equilibrium.

Ethan stayed frozen in place for just a moment longer, his breathing faster than usual, and his pupils dilated. He licked his lips, and Karl hated himself for following the movement with rapid attention. He was playing with fire.

"Y-yeah," Ethan cleared his throat and readjusted his hold on Rose, bringing her up over his shoulder, so he could pat her gently on her back, "I was thinking we could double back to the grocery store to get a few supplies and then rent a room," he slowly gained momentum the more he spoke, effortlessly slipping into planning mode, like the past few minutes hadn't affected him at all. It was mesmerizing to watch. No wonder the father had been able to survive unspeakable horrors only to go back to his mundane life like nothing had happened. His adaptability and his repression skills were amazing. Even when tipped off center, he managed to bounce back and focus on the next step.

"I wouldn't mind getting a few more diapers for Rose, as well as some wet wipes. And something for dinner as well," he listed and then paused, "does that sound like a plan?"

Karl paused, unsure if he'd heard that right. He looked at Ethan, only to find the man waiting for his reply, waiting for his input, welcoming it in fact. Karl's features softened, and he tugged down at the brim of his hat and averted his gaze. He recognized the small gesture for what it was: an olive branch, a way to strengthen their alliance. It was unnecessary, but deeply appreciated nonetheless.

"It sure does, Papa."

---

Once they rolled into the mini-mart's parking lot, the teenagers Karl had spotted before were long gone, but they had been replaced by several families pushing along filled shopping carts, while they chatted away amongst themselves. Their electronic devices pinged in Karl's mind, making his electrical organ flare up, and his senses sharpened.

Ethan parked the car in the far corner, which Karl was grateful for. "Here we are," he hummed as he pushed the door open and stepped out. Eveline quickly followed suit. Karl hesitated for a moment and looked down at Rose in his lap. She had quieted down quite a bit after her meal. He wondered if he could use her as an excuse to stay out of the concrete box filled with its buzzing electronics and busy people. Would Ethan even allow that? There was only one way to find out.

Using his powers, Karl unlocked his seatbelt and opened the door, allowing him to get out of the car while holding Rose with both hands. Eveline was already halfway across the parking lot, only stopping once to tell them to hurry up.

"Watch out for cars!" Ethan reminded her and sighed with a tired smile, looking just like all the other parents in the parking lot. The perfect chameleon, blending into his environment without even trying. His John Doe exterior gave nothing away about the strength hidden underneath.

"You two go ahead, I'll stay by the car with your precious Rose," he gestured down towards Rose, "I don't want to get trapped in there with a screaming baby," he joked and flashed Ethan a grin.

He held his breath as Ethan stayed silent. Had he been so transparent? Had Ethan seen through his lie? If he had, the father was kind enough not to mention it or challenge Karl on his cover story. Karl was grateful for the mercy, he didn't know how he would be able to convey that he didn't like the sheer amount of noise from static and chatter emanating from the building

Finally, Ethan nodded. "That sounds like a good idea," he agreed. Neither of them mentioned how Ethan had been perfectly fine handling a screaming Rose at the gas station. "Is there something specific you want?"

That was a good question, one Karl had no way of answering. He had no idea what he wanted; his options had always been limited, whether it was supplies, food items, or freedom. He was used to making do with what he had. He wasn't used to choice, let alone the sheer amount of different options the modern world offered, if the display shelves he'd seen through the windows at the gas station were any indication.

Karl leered at Ethan and tilted his head. "I'll have whatever you're having, Papa," he drawled, putting up his usual wall of bravado and showmanship. "And a pack of smokes. Cigars, if they have them, if they don't."

Ethan paused and looked at Karl, who continued to smile at him. Then shook his head, but a small smile bloomed on his face. "You have some strange priorities." Karl couldn't argue with that.

As Ethan hurried to catch up with Eveline, before she disappeared inside the mini-mart, Karl busied himself with observing their surroundings, getting a feel for the different signals being fed back to him by his powers.

"It is a strange new world, little one," he sighed as he watched a woman type away on a small screen that had no visual buttons. A phone, Karl had quickly realized. The ping coming from the device was the same one he felt coming from almost everyone. "But what do you care? You still have time to learn, and someone willing to teach you." Ethan's willingness to help his daughter was unconditional and reliable. A single constant in an ever-changing world. "Must be nice. You don't know how lucky you are."

He kept pacing the outskirts of the parking lot, watching from afar like he'd spent most of his imprisonment doing, observing people's interactions, the way they spoke, their facial expressions, and filed it away to be studied and analyzed later. He tried to stay out of sight, making his presence insignificant and non-threatening, like he was used to doing whenever Miranda summoned him.  Despite his best efforts, he still caught a few strange looks from the locals, which only served to remind him how he didn't fit in to this world. He would have to work on that if he wanted to pass as Ethan's devoted husband. Which was why he observed and took note. Unlike Ethan, Karl wasn't a chameleon.  Blending in didn't come naturally to him. It was a skill that needed to be learned and cultivated. It was an active choice that demanded constant vigilance, otherwise, his tailored mask would slip. And every mask he wore had been well-practiced and carefully designed to fit its purpose. But his sharp edges and awkward nature still shone through, making him stumble over his words when Angie kept interrupting him, or causing him to hesitate when Strum interrupted his speech for Ethan.

No... He didn't fit in as easily as Winters. Yet here they were; Ethan allowing Karl to tag along, and Karl doing his damn hardest to keep up with the blonde in this strange new world.

Sighing to himself, Karl tapped his fingers against Rose's stomach, chuckling when she reached for his leather-covered fingers. "Don't put them in your mouth. I know where they've been," he warned her, but the little one didn't listen. Why would she? She was a Winters after all. Pulling his hand back before she could stuff his fingers into her mouth, Karl shook his head, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips. She wriggled in his grip, showing her clear distaste for his rules, pouting as she did. Not letting himself be bullied into something he knew would put him in bad standing with Ethan, Karl maneuvered Rose around, so she was sitting on his arm with her back resting against Karl's chest. He placed his free arm around her middle to support her.

"There you missy. Is this better than sucking on dirty leather?" he breathed out and started walking again, this time closing in on the stuff he thought would catch the attention of a small child. Like brightly colored cars. He bounced her gently up and down like he'd seen Ethan do it.

Ethan returned from the mini-mart not long after with a filled plastic bag and a warm smile on his face. Eveline followed close behind him. She held a notebook and a collection of different colored pens to her chest. Color had crept into her usual pale cheeks, and a hesitant smile had made its way onto her lips.

Ethan waved when he spotted them and changed direction toward them, whereas Eveline headed straight for the car.  With a twitch of his fingers, Karl unlocked it for her, and she crawled into the backseat, already flicking through her notebook.

"Sorry it took so long," Ethan apologized, half jogging to close the last remaining space between them. "I hope she didn't give you any trouble," he cooed at Rose and leaned down to get to her eye level, smiling brightly at his child. Karl looked away from them. Even if he was the one holding Rose, it felt like he was intruding on a private moment between them. Between family.

He pressed his toes into his boots and turned his attention towards Eveline, watching her handle the pens with great care, like it was a precious gift. And maybe it was. Karl wouldn't be surprised if the chocolate and the writing supplies were the only things a being like Eveline had ever been gifted other than pain.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I just picked something that seemed like a safe bet," Ethan continued as he pulled away from Rose and gestured toward the bag.

Karl hummed in understanding and gratitude, before the sound morphed to a teasing chuckle. "And the cigars?"

Ethan paused and looked at him. "Fresh out," he answered flatly, making Karl bark out at a laugh that had Rose bounce and vibrate against him.

"Sure, Winters," he drawled and leaned closer to the man, "what a shame." Ethan stood his ground, but Karl didn't miss the way his shoulders tensed and his breath hitched. Was the itch coming back so soon? A part of Karl hoped it was. He'd enjoyed that last encounter, even if it was one-sided and with the clear purpose of relieving Ethan of the stress that had been building up inside of him long before the village. Was it selfish to hope that the father was once again at the breaking point, just so Karl had an excuse to push him, until he finally gave in and took what Karl was more than willing to give?

Ethan swallowed visibly and turned away. "Just shut up and come eat," he said and returned to the car, placing the plastic bag in the front seat before he started pulling out items, settling back against the seat. She tugged her legs toward herself and pressed her knees into the seat in front of her.

Ethan took out two more water bottles and two sandwiches before he dumped the plastic bag in the back. Karl returned Rose to him, and Ethan placed her on the front seat and squatted down next to her on the ground to make sure she didn't take a tumble.

They ate in silence. Karl leaned against the side of the car as he slowly ate. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a meal that didn't come from a can. The sandwich was rich in flavors, and the crunch from the lettuce was more than just nutritious. It was delicious. He ate slowly, savoring the taste and texture. Even the water tasted better, cleaner somehow. It didn't have that hard, metallic aftertaste like it did in the village. He could get used to this.

After they finished eating, Ethan drove them back to where he'd seen the Bed and Breakfast sign. It was a two-story house, with the same whitewashed facade as the rest of the village. Dark shutters lined the windows, and a small cobbled path led from the road to the front door.  Ethan parked at the side of the road and leaned across the space to look at the house through the window in Karl's side of the car.

"Well, this is it. Let's go knock."

Before Ethan had a chance to get out of his seat, Karl placed a hand on his arm, stopping the father. Ethan paused and looked at him, raising a brow in a nonverbal question.

"Maybe I should do the talking on this one," Karl offered. So far, Ethan had done everything since they left the village. He had driven the car, gotten gas, and handled the mini-mart visit. His inability to sit still and let others take over made Karl feel like a parasite, leeching off Ethan.  Karl wanted to be the one to do this. He needed to be of use, otherwise, the invisible scale that existed between them would tip against him, and Ethan would come to his senses and get the hell away. Just leave Karl at the edge of the road and drive away like he should have done days ago.

"Why?" Ethan wanted to know.

Karl should have known Ethan would make it easy for him. Of course, he wouldn't just lie down and allow Karl to help him. Not without demanding a good reason for Karl to do so. And Karl couldn't give him one, not without revealing too much of himself. He didn't dare, not with constant push and pull between them, a continuous dance around each other, until one of them made a mistake and left themselves open enough for the other to pounce. Karl was sure that if he let his walls down now, Ethan wouldn't stop until Karl had been laid out bare for the father to examine. And what if he didn't like what he saw?

Karl laughed like it was a stupid question and tilted his shades, looking at Ethan over the rim, "because unlike you, they would be able to understand me."

Ethan narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose, like he'd smelled something foul, "I can speak some Romanian."

Karl huffed and licked his teeth, tilting his head in the process to better regard Ethan. "Please, pronunciation should be a crime in itself," he taunted, laying it on thick, just to get Ethan to submit to the idea without further questions.

With ears burning from either anger or embarrassment, Ethan dropped back into his seat. His jaw tensed, and he gritted his teeth. The silence stretched on for a moment longer than what was comfortable before Ethan sighed in defeat.

"Fine," he grumbled and gestured for Karl to hand over Rose, "but at least take of your hat and glasses. You look like a fucking serial killer," he spat.

Karl tsked and placed a hand over his heart. "What a cruel thing to say to your darling husband, honey," he purred, earning him a deep scowl from Ethan. "especially considering the fact, that between the two of us, I'm pretty sure you have the highest body count. My soldaten were already dead when I ripped their organs, so they don't count." His lips lifted into a satisfied smirk, and before he could help himself, he bobbed Ethan on the nose, just to watch him jerk back in surprise.

Not wanting to push his luck by taunting the father further, Karl got out of the car. He rested his forearm against the roof and leaned in. "Do try to look at me like I'm the love of your life, we're supposed to be married after all." He winked at Ethan as he dumped his hat and glasses on the seat.

Ethan's eyes widened, and he sputtered an incoherent reply. Karl shut the door before the father had a chance to become verbal. Feeling very pleased with himself, Karl walked up the small pathway. He rolled his shoulders and unclenched his jaw as he got ready to show himself from his civil side. He had a job to do after all.

Chapter Text

Halting in front of the dark oak door, Karl glanced at the car over his shoulder. Ethan leaned across the passenger seat, watching him intensely while Rose smeared her sticky fingers across the lower part of the window. He grinned at the father and winked before he turned around and settled into character and rang the bell.

He heard someone move around on the other side as the sound of footsteps approached. The door opened, revealing an elderly woman with a wrinkled face and long gray hair, pulled into a loose bun. She appeared softer and more motherly than the old hag Miranda liked to masquerade as.

Putting on his best smile, the one that was the perfect ratio of lips and teeth, Karl offered the woman a small nod in greeting. It was the same gesture and smile he usually reserved for Mother Dearest. It was a look he'd practiced and adjusted again and again, until it was perfect. Until it made him appear charming and harmless, and ever so devoted. A tamed man with a mild, inoffensive smile softening his features.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am," he kept his usual drawl out of his voice, sticking to a warmer and softer tone, mimicking the way he'd heard Ethan speak to the girls. It wasn't just the tone of his voice that he changed. He also held himself differently; his hands clasped behind him and held loosely at his lower back, like he was completely at ease, with no need to defend himself. His shoulders slumped slightly forward in order to make him appear just a bit shorter. 

 "I saw the sign out front, and I was wondering if there were any vacant rooms left?" He cut straight to the chase, keeping up the polite facade even though the woman eyed him up and down. All his reactions were hidden from plain view, a long-lasting survival strategy. He kept smiling even when his body tensed and his heartbeat quickened, just like he'd done whenever he stood in front of Miranda, and one tiny little slip in his expression could be his doom.

"You look like you have seen better days," the woman said, speaking slowly and with a thick dialect that wrapped lazily around her words, making her Romanian harder to understand. Ethan wouldn't stand a chance against her.

He chuckled when her gaze stopped at his dirty trousers, "I am terribly sorry about my appearance. You can thank the little one in the black dress for the mess," he said and looked towards Eveline over his shoulder, smiling to himself when the woman did the same, her features softening a bit at the sight of the child. Like she'd sensed eyes on her, Eveline looked up from whatever she was doing and glanced out the car window. She narrowed her eyes briefly before she looked away.  "She outsmarted me in a game of tag, and I took a tumble down a hill," Karl explained like it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world.

It earned him a smile on the weathered face. "Ah, to be young and filled with energy," the woman said, and looked back at Karl, "You said you wanted to stay?"

"Yes. For one night," he specified. He kept his features casual, even when she glanced behind him again to look at Ethan and the kids.

"I do have a crib for the baby. But the room only has two beds, " she explained, making Karl's smile widen slightly.

"That won't be a problem, Ma'am. I'm used to sharing a bed, " he lied effortlessly, "that's my husband you're looking at." His stomach fluttered at the words as he tried the Duke's cover story for the first time. But it wasn't that big of a deal; he was just doing his part to uphold their cover. That was all there was to it.

The woman snapped her attention back to Karl, her brow shooting towards her hairline. Karl leaned closer. "Or is it going to be a problem?" he challenged, still with that velvet soft tone. A veiled threat, but a threat nonetheless.

The woman held his gaze for a moment before she huffed and shook her head. "The world has changed since my time, and so has love. But who am I to judge?" She then looked up at him and grinned, showing even more wrinkles, "and business is business. I got a room for you and your family. But I will charge extra if you leave it filled with mud," she warned, earning her a genuine laugh from Karl.

"Fair enough, ma'am," he chuckled and looked at Ethan over his shoulder. He gave the father a thumbs-up. Karl bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling when he saw how Ethan's body loosened up, and he sighed in what could only be relief. Karl reminded himself once again, that he was just doing his part. There was nothing more to it.

"Please, call me Elena," the old woman said and stepped aside when Ethan joined with the duffel bag slung over his shoulder and Rose in his arms. Eveline walked right behind him, with her shoulders hiked toward her ears and her head slightly bent forward, her long hair covering most of her face. When Ethan stopped, she stopped right behind him, leaving little room between them. She held the notebook close to her chest, and Karl noticed how different colors stained her fingers. She had already been busy with her new gift. Another being tamed by the God-bringer.

Elena offered Eveline a welcoming smile and tilted her head, as if to get a better look at her. "And what is your name, young lady?" She asked, still speaking Romanian.

Karl offered Elena Eveline's fake name, and looked at the older woman. "She doesn't speak any Romanian. Neither does my husband," he explained and introduced Ethan and Rose with their fake names, as well as his own. It earned him a raised brow from Ethan, who had probably picked up a few words here and there, as well as the sound of their names.

"Oh, I see," Elena looked between Eveline and Ethan, before gesturing for them both to step inside, relying on gestures rather than words.

Karl reached for the duffel bag and took it from Ethan, as he urged him forward with a hand on the small of his back, "go on in, honey," he drawled, taking pleasure in the fact that Ethan was forced to play along. They had an audience after all. He watched the small muscles work around Ethan's eyes and the way he clenched his jaw. But he didn't pull away, so Karl allowed himself to indulge, stepping well into Ethan's space as he guided him inside.

"It's the upstairs bedroom. It used to be my daughter's. But she is all grown up and has a family of her own now. So I rent it out when she's not using it," Elena explained as she walked slowly up the stairs, gripping the railing tightly to support herself.

"How old is your daughter?" Karl asked politely, without caring about the answer; all he cared about was how he came across. 

Several paintings and pictures covered the wall, and Karl spotted Elena in several of them, showing off what she had looked like in various stages of her life, as well as her family.  She looked happy in all of them. Happy and surrounded by people she cared about.

"She is almost forty, and she has two kids of her own. Yet, she still finds time to visit her old mother," Elena continued as she walked down a tiny hallway leading away from the stairs.

"Well, family is important," Karl answered with so much conviction it even took him by surprise. He sounded almost like he'd meant it for a second there. After being forced into Miranda's family, Karl came to loathe the notion, and bile always rose in his throat whenever he had to refer to Miranda as mother or call the other freaks his siblings. But standing here, in the old woman's house, seeing the pictures of a lifetime spent building a family... Well, maybe he could understand the appeal, at least logically.

"Indeed," she agreed, and glanced at Ethan, who held Rose facing outward, so she could see everything that was happening around her. Just like Karl had held her in the parking lot. "The room's just down the hall. It has its own adjacent bathroom, which you're free to use..." She paused and then looked Karl up and down. "In fact, please do. Please get cleaned up, otherwise you'll ruin the sheets."

Karl barked out a laugh, unfiltered and with his usual edge, but the feisty comment had taken him by surprise.

"Now you sound just like my husband," he chuckled, and stroked his hand up and down Ethan's lower back. The father looked between them, clearly understanding the word ‘husband’, but Karl doubted he was able to make out a single word coming from Elena, her dialect too thick.

"A clever husband you have," Elena pointed out before she pushed open the door to the room. It wasn't that much bigger than the cabin, but much nicer. With two beds filled with blankets and decorative pillows, and even some stuffed animals on the smaller bed. The sight of the bed and the knowledge that he would soon share that space with Ethan stirred something deep within Karl. He quickly pushed it away. 

The room also had a desk, a full bookshelf, a wardrobe, and several shelves filled with kids' toys and games. More paintings decorated the walls, showing off several ponds and forest clearings.  The desk was placed in front of a large window, with a view down to the garden. The sun had almost set outside, and the last sunrays of the day streamed through the window, painting the room in a warm orange glow.

With his hand on Ethan's lower back, Karl guided him forward and into the room. Ethan went in without further protest, looking around as he did so.

"It is nice," he said in his broken Romanian, completely butchering the pronunciation. Yet he still seemed to get the point across, because Elena smiled and placed a hand over her heart and nodded.

"Thank you," she spoke slowly and clearly, offering Ethan a warm smile, before she turned her attention back to Karl, "you are free to use the kitchen in the morning. But please write down if you finish something from the cupboards or the fridge. Then I'll know what to get from the store."

Karl nodded in understanding. "Of course," he said, and put the bag down on the bed, digging through the side pocket, to find the stored cash.

"And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," Elena insisted, and Karl was positive she really meant it.

"Will do. Thank you so much for your hospitality." He collected the agreed-upon Lei for the room and handed it to Elena, which she pocketed. But she didn't turn to leave, like Karl had expected-- and wanted-- her to.

Instead, she looked up at Karl with a puzzled expression, and for a terrifying moment, Karl feared his mask had cracked. His stomach dropped, and his body tensed, his electrical organ flaring up out of reinforced habit.

"Your way of speaking," she said and narrowed her eyes briefly, like she was deep in thought, "there's something strange about it."

Karl exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. "Ah, that must be the German in me," he answered and gestured towards himself with a confident smile, "I was born in Germany, but I've spent most of my life in Romania with my mother and siblings," he told her, easily weaving truths and lies together into a compelling background story. "And now I've come back to show my husband and the kids where I grew up," He explained, keeping his voice light and welcoming, even though he could feel a flicker of annoyance build up within him. Wasn't the host supposed to leave after getting paid?

Not picking up on his thinning patience, Elena shook her head, like she didn't agree with him. "You should have come in the spring. It's prettier here in springtime, and more suited for a family."

Karl forced his body to relax and willed his smile to stay in place. When he spoke, his throat felt tight with the effort to keep his voice in check. "I agree. But this was the only time that suited my husband."

"Oh?" Elena glanced briefly toward Ethan. She didn't bother hiding her curiosity at all. Nosy old woman. "Is he a busy man?"

Karl followed her gaze and grinned when he found Ethan watching them watching him. Karl winked at him. "You have no idea." Ethan's Adam's apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed, and a pink blush broke out across his cheeks. He quickly looked away and pretended to unpack a set of clothing for Rose.

Karl smirked at the display of forged indifference. The father could deny it all he wanted, but Karl had seen the tell-tale tension creeping into Ethan's shoulders and the stiffness in his movements. All those small touches and the lingering gazes must have gotten to him. Karl was willing to put good money on the itch being back. All he needed to do now was wait for the father to gather up either enough courage or enough anger to ask for Karl to once again uphold his end of the deal.

Turning his attention back to Elena, Karl chuckled and offered her an apologetic smile, like it pained him to cut the conversation short. "Thanks again for your hospitality, Elena," he let her name fall from his lips, adding the right amount of warmth to make it sound familiar, instead of a growled threat.

Elena finally seemed to get the message and gave him a quick nod, and a final reminder to not drag mud anywhere. After once again reassuring her that he wouldn't, Karl closed the door and let out a deep sigh. He opened his eyes when he heard Ethan chuckle and glared in the father's direction.

"What?" He dragged out the word and lifted his chin as he regarded Ethan. Ethan shrugged and pulled out the changing mat, placing it on the floor next to the bed.

"Nothing. I've just never seen you act so..." he paused and licked his lips, like he was searching for the right word, "civilized before."

Karl huffed and pushed away from the door, "I have. You just didn't look closely enough to notice it," Karl shot back, and maybe Ethan didn't deserve all of the bite in his voice. But it had been a long day, and Karl was exhausted, and keeping up appearances and a friendly conversation hadn't been at the top of the list of his evening activities. And it wasn't like he was lying. He had tried his best to be civil with Ethan ever since they made their deal, following Ethan's lead and doing what he could to keep the father out of trouble and push him toward his goal. Fuck, he had been nothing but civil.

Ethan's mouth snapped shut, and his teasing smile dropped, like Karl had slapped him. He would live. Karl had seen him survive far worse than a little short temper.  Ethan cleared his throat and returned to the task of changing Rose's diaper in silence. Karl let him be. Instead, he sat down with a tired groan, feeling his knees and joints protest, his flesh and muscles still sore after being stretched too far during his transformation. He reached for his belts and started undoing them manually, needing something to do with his hands, since he didn't have a project or a cigar to keep them occupied. He discarded his belts and pouches on the floor and opened the zipper of his pants.

"Karl!" Ethan exclaimed, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed. "What the hell are you doing?"

Karl gritted his teeth and glared at Ethan. He was trying to be civil again, so why did Ethan insist on making it so damn hard?
"I'm taking off my pants so I'm not dragging mud into the bed," he hissed at Ethan, "otherwise we'll be charged extra. And unless you have some crystal skulls or spare Lei shoved up somewhere I don't know about, I'd say we don't need the extra expense," he said, voice thick with pent-up frustration and exhaustion. He did not want another fight with Ethan.

"Besides, it's not like I'm going to sleep in them anyway," he pointed out and kicked off his pants and sat back down on the bed in just his ratty underwear and button-down shirt. Faking nonchalance, Karl crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back against the headboard of the bed, pushing his hat downward to better cover his eyes, shutting down the conversation.

He pretended he didn't hear Ethan calling him a fucking pain in the ass under his breath, and he resisted the urge to remind Ethan of his language in front of the little ones. Or he could remind him, that since they were married, he was Ethan's pain in the ass. He was sure that would have earned him another dark blush from the father.

He only opened his eyes when he heard the door to the bathroom open and close. The shower started soon after. Karl craned his neck to look at the crib, but it was empty, leaving just him and Eveline in the room. The girl in question sat cross-legged on her bed with her notebook in her lap and a concentrated look on her face, as she continued to scribble and draw. Several of the colored pens were spread out around her. She seemed completely lost in her task, and Karl watched as she shifted between the different colored pens, alternating between writing and drawing. Seeing her like that reminded Karl of all the hours he'd spent writing in his journals. He had a lot of different ones, scattered all over the factory, so he always had one near him when he needed to write something down. He'd tried recording his thoughts a few times, and while efficient, it didn't quite have the calming effect that writing did. His brain often worked too fast for his mouth and hands to keep up, and so far, writing was the best way to manage all the swirling thoughts in his head. It was a way to slow things down and process whatever was racing through his mind. Sometimes, writing his constant stream of thoughts down also served as a way to work through his emotions and whatever shit he was dealing with... Maybe he should try to get his hands on a journal the next time they needed to shop for supplies. Which meant he would have to go inside himself, since there was no way he would ask Ethan to bring him one. He did not look forward to that. But he'd survived worse than a constant onslaught of overstimulation of his senses. 

He would cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he focused on the pleasant feeling of being stretched out on a soft bed. Karl felt beat. His muscles were sore, and his mind was tired, but it was a different kind of tired than having spent countless hours in the bowels of his factory, working on his Soldaten. He almost missed the predictability of working on his metal army. It gave him something to focus on, a purpose.

"Why did you give the guys in the mine the headgear?" Eveline suddenly asked without looking up from her notebook.

Karl raised a brow, unsure if he'd heard her wrong. "What?"

Eveline looked up and glanced at Karl with her piercing black eyes. "You heard me. Why did you give the guys in the mines the headgear?" She repeated the question and held his gaze for a moment before she looked back down, making another note in the book.

Karl chuckled, low in his throat, and pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed. Then he swung his legs out to the side. His joints ached, and his knees groaned as he got up. But Karl ignored it. His body had been through a lot worse than a little soreness. He walked towards the bed Eveline occupied, while he glanced towards the closed bathroom door. He wasn't sure Papa wanted him to talk about Soldaten manufacturing with the kid. After all, the notes he'd copied from Miranda suggested that the kid had some previous experience with creating monsters of her own. He sat down next to her.

"I called them Haulers," Karl said, when he was sure Ethan wouldn't overhear them, "all of them were made from corpses infused with the megamycete. They had been dead for a long while before I got to them, meaning they were brain-dead. The mold reanimated them, but did nothing for their cognitive abilities, so I had to code a program that covered basic cognition and the headgear," he explained, but paused when Eveline narrowed her eyes slightly, both brows raised. Karl grinned. Ah, yes. It was easy to forget that despite her powers, the little one had only been alive for a short period of time, "they were dumb as a rock, and couldn't do much. The headgear made them smarter. That's why I could use them to mine and move stuff around," he explained, simplifying years of research along with countless trial-and-error attempts.

Eveline wrinkled her nose and nodded slightly, jotting something down in her notebook. It was only then that Karl realized she was making notes of what she had seen and even attempted to make small drawings of the haulers. Heisenberg leaned closer to get a better look at her work, grinning to himself when it reminded him of his own journals, which he had caught Eveline looking through back in the cabin. He wondered if that was the reason why she was suddenly drawing and writing like an aspiring mad scientist. That shouldn't make something stir in his chest. But it did. Karl blamed Ethan for his sudden sentiment.

Instead of focusing on whatever was going on inside of him, Karl studied her work. The drawing was crooked with the wrong dimensions, and the notes were wildly inaccurate. But he couldn't stop himself from grinning. Everyone had to start somewhere. Eveline glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her body tense. The hand that moved the pen around the paper paused as the silence dragged on. Like she was holding her breath.

Karl reached out and tapped the drawing. "You forgot the wires that connect the headgear to the spinal cord. Otherwise, you did a pretty good job." For a child, of course. The crude notes would be of no real use if she actually wanted to recreate a hauler. But for her first try, he supposed it was alright.

Eveline's eyes widened slightly, just like they had when she received Ethan's gift, and she quickly looked down, leaning forward until her black hair shielded her face like a curtain. Ah, hiding behind protective layers. It would appear he had a lot more in common with the brat than he had first realized.

"Don't let Papa see. He doesn't appreciate real talent," he advised, hoping for a small chuckle from the child, but instead he was met with silence. It was cold and piercing, and Karl knew he'd hit a sore spot without meaning to.

"He's not my real dad," Eveline finally said, her tone cold and sharp. But her bark didn't fool Karl; he heard the pain and vulnerability underneath. It was a pain he knew all too well. Knowing what was going on with her was one thing, but knowing how to act accordingly was something completely different. He didn't have a frame of reference other than his own experience with the grief of losing his parents decades ago. But he'd been a grown man at that time, not a child, and he'd come from a normal family, not a lab. His clinical horrors hadn't begun until he was in his fifties. She had been born in a lab, with no love or normalcy. No foundation. At least Karl had had that luxury.

"So?" It came out a lot harder than intended, but there was no taking it back.

Eveline glared up at him, her pale lips a thin line, and he was sure the way her hair moved wasn't due to a sudden draft. The little one was getting upset. Karl glanced toward the bathroom door again. Where was Winters when Karl needed him? Karl was sure the father would be better at talking about feelings and sensitive topics. Karl was too rough around the edges, his thoughts too jagged.

Karl had been sharpened to kill, whereas Ethan aimed to heal.

Karl didn't know how to do that. His hands had never cradled a baby or comforted a distressed soul, stroked their hair, and wiped away their tears. His hands built Soldaten, cracked ribs, and harvested organs. His hands forced corpses to walk the earth again for a cause that was purely Karl's own. Whereas Ethan's hands worked and bled for his daughter. A devoted father through and through.

Karl was nothing like that.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Karl looked back at the furious girl, noticing the way her eyes had turned glassy, like she was one wrong word from breaking into tears and whirlwinds of transformed rage.

"L-look, you misunderstand," he tried again and ran a hand through his hair, "what I was trying to say was that it doesn't matter if Ethan's your real dad or not. Because it's clear as day, that he has decided to be your papa, and that has to count as something as well, right?" he tried and glanced at Eveline, glad that she no longer looked ready to explode like Sturm when overcharged on built-up energy.

"Ethan brought you back from the mold and took you with him. He lets you hold Rose and offers you gifts and comfort. You may not be related by blood to him, but he has chosen to stay by you. Besides, I'm pretty sure mold is thicker than water anyway," he continued, trying his best to string something coherent together. Judging by the way Eveline's shoulders dropped, he had done a decent enough job.

Eveline sighed and pushed her long hair behind her ear, allowing Karl to see her face and the tears in her eyes. Jesus, she really was just a kid. Her brain wasn't even fully formed yet, and she still had to grapple with topics that could easily destroy the sanity of a grown man.

"You really think so?" The hopefulness in her voice was almost too much to bear. The sound of a child who hadn't had their dreams crushed yet. Despite everything she had been through, she still dared to hope. Karl could only admire that.
"I know so," Karl didn't hesitate. He spoke with far more confidence than he felt, but something in those dark eyes urged him to reassure her and attempt to lessen the pain of being a freak of nature.

And then something unexpected happened, something so strange that Karl thought he was hallucinating for a moment. But the weight against his side was real enough. Eveline leaned closer, resting her shoulder against his side. She didn't say anything, just stared at the opposite wall. She didn't move, didn't make any indication that she wanted Karl to move or put his arm around her. So they ended up just sitting there, side by side, with their shoulders touching, without any eye contact. Karl felt like he should say something, maybe try and reassure the kid some more. But what could he say? That she was lucky she only suffered one decade and not several like Karl? That it sucked that she had been produced in a lab and didn't have a chance at a normal life? Or maybe tell her how lucky she was to be picked up by someone as captivating as Ethan Winters?

He wasn't sure what good it would do. So instead, he kept quiet. And when Eveline opened her notebook again and started drawing a new monster, without moving away from her current position, Karl watched over her shoulder, asking a few questions or making small comments. It felt good to have a shared focus point and something they could both engage in without the need for deep-cutting words or sensitive topics. They fell into an easy rhythm of Karl asking questions about Eveline's Molded creations and the girl trying to answer them as best as she could. Karl was beginning to suspect she had little knowledge about the what and how of the creatures, which was a shame. Understanding was the first point in mastering.

"But you needed bodies to create them?" Karl asked and looked down at Eveline's notebook, where she had sketched out a timeline, showing the Bakers kidnapping people, throwing them into what he guessed was a bathtub filled with mold, and then a Molded emerged from the tub.

"Yeah. I already said that, stupid," Eveline huffed, but Karl didn't take her words to heart, not when she was leaning her whole weight against the left side of his chest, using him as a backrest while she held up the notebook for Karl to see, "you can't make them out of nothing. There had to be a base," she explained vaguely, talking like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Little brat.

"Of course," Karl agreed and grinned, not pointing out the lack of vital information in her explanation.

"Of course," Eveline repeated.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Eveline quickly changed the page to some non-sinister doodling as Ethan stepped out of the room with a newly bathed Rose. His own hair was damp as well. Ethan paused in the doorway and looked between Eveline and Karl. He slowly raised a brow and shifted Rose in his arms. His hazel eyes settled on Karl, who didn't have to look at him to see the confusion written all over his face. Karl pretended he didn't know what had caused the father's confusion and instead continued to look at Eveline's notebook, trying to stop the smile from breaking out on his lips.

Ethan walked closer, still keeping an eye on them, like he wasn't really trusting what he was seeing, and still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like he expected them to have been up to no good. He was right, of course, but Ethan didn't need to know that. Karl pretended like nothing was wrong. He stayed where he was, allowing Eveline to dictate the space between them. He didn't say anything when she leaned forward, creating a bit of distance between them, now that Ethan and Rose were back in the room. Karl smiled to himself and leaned back as well, settling for observing Ethan as he did  what he did best: being a father.

"Go get ready for bed, Evie. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow," Ethan said, and smiled at Eveline when she rolled her eyes like it was an unreasonable demand, yet she still did as she was told.

She crawled out of bed and squatted down next to the duffel bag that Ethan had transferred all of their stuff from the Duke into. During his visit to the minimart earlier, Ethan had taken it upon himself to include several other items that he'd deemed necessary, like a toothbrush for each of them. He'd picked a dark purple one for Eveline.

Ethan smiled and picked up the notebook and the pencils Eveline had left on the bed. "I'm happy that you're using this," Ethan said, making Eveline pause in her search for her toothbrush, frozen in place for a moment as Ethan held the notebook. 

Well, that was what she got for leaving her notes around where everyone could read them. Even in the factory, Karl had tried to keep his notes as safe as possible. Just in case Miranda decided to pay him a visit. But as soon as Ethan came around, Karl had left everything out in the open for the father to find, hoping that providing a glimpse of his thought process would help him persuade the father to see reason. What little good that had done him.

"But," Ethan continued not noticing that both Karl’s and Eveline's attention were locked on the notebook, "the next time you want to color in it, don't do it in the bed, and don't leave the pencils there. I don't want someone to sit on them and break them," he reasoned and placed her things on the nightstand instead.

It took every ounce of self-control to stop himself from laughing at the relieved look on Eveline's face. Karl dipped his head lower, hiding under the brim of his hat. A hat he wouldn't have if it hadn't been for Ethan. There had been little fanfare when the father had handed Karl his lost artifacts, offering them to him like it was no big deal. But it had been, and they had both known it, neither of them willing to voice it. 

"I won't," Eveline promised and went to the bathroom to get ready like Ethan had asked her to.

Ethan huffed in amusement as he continued to bounce Rose in his arms. He made a face at the little one, who laughed wholeheartedly and reached for the father. Ethan shifted her in his arms so he could offer her the hand, where all his fingers were still intact. The other hand had healed up somewhat. The wound had healed over with scar tissue, and the skin no longer burned red with inflammation. His healing abilities truly were amazing. Karl wanted to study it further, lay Ethan out on his operating table and observe every inch of his body, until he knew what made the father tick. He wanted to cut him open and explore, until he understood what made Ethan so intriguing. He knew he would never be allowed this, so instead he observed and watched as Ethan looked down at his daughter and tickled her stomach, making the all-powerful being squeal with laughter as she reached for Ethan's fingers and stuffed them into her mouth.

"How would you feel if I crafted you some metal prosthetics for that hand of yours? Would you be interested in that?" Karl asked, his brain-to-mouth filter once again, failing to keep up with the constant flow of thoughts in his mind. It seemed to be doing that an awful lot ever since the arrival of Ethan Winters.

He watched Ethan carefully to gauge his reaction, grateful for the added protection of his shades, which he hoped would hide it if any of his nervousness bled through his carefully constructed calm demeanor.

Ethan blinked, swallowed, and then blinked again, like he couldn't believe what he had just heard. Not wanting to lose face, Karl grinned, like Ethan's loss for words was amusing rather than nerve-wracking.

"Metal prosthetics?" Ethan then repeated, and Karl nodded, showing the father that he was being serious. His offer might have been a slip-up, but now that it was out in the open, Karl found himself desperate for the opportunity. Not only to get a closer look at what Ethan's body was capable of, but also to be of use. To have something new to focus on. A new goal.

He ignored the pain in his chest when Ethan narrowed his eyes, distrust evident in his features. "Why metal? So you can control my hand?"

Karl barked out a laugh at the absurdity of the idea, his amusement over the other's paranoia almost as great as his distaste for the lack of trust, slightly offended and hurt that after everything he'd done, Ethan still thought so little of him.

He huffed in pretend amusement and tipped down his shades to look at Ethan over the dark rim, flashing him a toothy grin. "Always expecting the worst, huh, Winters?" Karl asked, his tone so leaden with false levity it was almost sickening. He paused and regarded the father, making a show of eyeing him up and down. "If I had wanted to control you, don't you think I would have made my move by now?" He stated coldly, seeking out the clinical facts to remove any emotions from the equation. He pushed his shades back up.

"Metal would be the easiest material to use because it allows me to make all the little fine adjustments, making the prosthetics as useful as possible," he stated casually and crossed his arms over his chest, once again focusing on the facts and utility, rather than the question of why he wanted to do something like that for Ethan.

Ethan held his gaze for a moment longer before he looked away, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. When he didn't say anything, Karl was sure it was the end of that, but then Ethan sucked in a breath and lifted his mangled hand to look at the stumps.

"I hadn't really thought about prosthetics at all, to be honest with you," he muttered and licked his lips. Karl couldn't help but follow the movement of his tongue with his gaze. "That would mean thinking about an 'after' instead of continuing forward. And that just felt dangerous," he admitted, and looked down at Rose, sadness washing over his features, like he was scared she would disappear the second he let his guard down. Karl supposed that was what relying on being constantly caught in a fight-or-flight response would do to a person. It made it almost impossible to feel at ease and safe, even when the danger had passed. A feeling Karl was more than familiar with.

Ethan took another deep breath before he lifted his gaze and looked at Karl, a hesitant smile on his lips. It didn't reach his eyes, but Karl still saw it for what it was: a step in the right direction.

"Maybe I wouldn't mind if you made me some," he finally said, and Karl smiled, too pleased with the development to hide the genuine delight behind a mask of bravado. Now he really needed a notebook to start jotting down ideas and drafting the first prototype.

"It's a deal then."

Ethan rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You and your deals," he muttered and went to place Rose in her crib. Karl only chuckled as a response.

Chapter Text

Ethan finished putting Rose to bed before he helped Eveline get settled as well, moving with such ease, like getting both girls to bed was the most natural thing in the whole world. Karl watched from the sidelines, not daring to make a sound or move in fear of disturbing the scene playing out in front of him. He had seen the deadly and unstoppable side of Ethan. The man who didn't hesitate to rip hooks out of his limbs and continue forward despite countless injuries. He'd fought side by side with the father and seen what he was like in the heat of battle. But watching him in this private, domestic setting took his breath away. So this was Ethan before the village? Before he learned what he was willing to endure to survive, and before he learned just what kind of horrors really lurked in the night. This was Ethan, the husband.

Karl shifted on the bed, leaning back against the headboard as Ethan continued to get the girls ready for bed. He worked with such care and dedication, undaunted by the fact that one of his hands was missing two fingers. Even when domesticated, Ethan was as stubborn and resourceful as ever. He hummed a nursery rhyme for Rose and leaned over the crib to stroke her head, smiling down softly at her. When she was settled in, he proceeded to make Eveline's bed, flipping the duvet back so the child could easily climb in when she was done in the bathroom. He was so focused on everyone else, pushing away his own needs. Karl felt humbled being in the man's presence, and he counted himself lucky for being able to witness the man in his element while still surviving the encounter. 

Eveline returned from the bathroom, dressed in a long cotton sleep shirt. She climbed into bed and settled against her pillow, while Ethan tucked her in, offering her a warm smile and a soft chuckle when Eveline rolled her eyes at the way he carefully tucked the duvet snugly around her, like a safe and warm cocoon.

It was almost easy to forget how the man in front of him had killed his siblings and their false mother... while wearing fucking dress shoes. And Karl supposed that was a part of what made Ethan so dangerous. He didn't look like a threat, but Karl had witnessed just how a moment of inattentiveness was enough for the father to land a deadly strike. Death and destruction. Yet here, amongst colorful paintings and old toys, the father did nothing but soothe and care.  He continued to be an enigma, one that Karl desperately wanted to understand.

Unable to process any more without risking the rise of sudden uncomfortable questions and realizations, Karl left the bedroom and locked himself in the bathroom. He held his breath and reached for the magnetic field around him, turning the lock. Even the simple gesture took more effort than usual, thanks to the many electronic components and the different wavelengths in the air. It was like trying to locate a single voice in a buzzing crowd. Luckily for Karl, he had enough control over his powers to block out the static and focus on his goal. At least for now. He feared what it would be like in the more populated areas. That was a problem for later.

Letting out a deep exhale, Karl dropped his carefully constructed facade. His features softened, and his body sagged, finally able to let the tiredness seep in. And by the black God, he was tired. But he shouldn't be surprised, committing false matricide would do that to any man. Karl slowly stripped out of his worn clothes and grunted as he tugged his dirty button-down off his shoulders. He hissed when the movement pulled at his aching muscles. He was a mutant with great powers and enhanced strength, but he wasn't a spring chicken anymore. The battle with Miranda had left him sore and bruised, and unlike Ethan Winters, his wounds didn't just mend themselves after being doused in some healing fluids. It took days for his body to heal.

He dropped the undershirt on the floor and shivered when the cool air licked at his exposed skin, raising goosebumps across his broad chest. A thick mat of dark hair covered his chest and trailed down his soft belly to the edge of his underwear. A jagged scar spread out across his chest, its epicenter at the top of his right pec, where the scar tissue rippled outwards, chasing away the hairs. Several other scars crisscrossed his body, some the result of Miranda's poor temper, and others a result of a steep learning curve that came with creating his metal army. No matter the origin, each scar reminded him of the village and what he had to do to survive.

When he removed his underwear, he had to steady himself against the wall, his knee and inner thigh still hurting after one of Miranda's tendrils had penetrated him in his mutated form. It had caused enough tissue damage to still linger even after he returned to his normal form. And the long walk to the cabin and then to the small town hadn't helped either.

Gritting his teeth to prevent himself from making any noise, Karl rubbed his hand up and down the aching muscles, pressing down hard enough to make sure nothing was broken. It didn't seem that way, but it still hurt. But he had survived worse. And he would survive this too.

He stepped under the warm spray of the shower and closed his eyes, allowing the water to wash away the sweat and grime covering his body. He sighed and ducked his head, rinsing his graying hair. He turned up the heat, and the steam curled around him, like the smoke from his cigars. He hummed at the sensation and started scrubbing his skin. The water turned a murky grey around his feet before it was swallowed down the drain. It felt strange not having to constantly turn the handles to keep the temperature somewhat consistent. Back in the factory, the water was always too scalding hot or too icy cold. There was no in-between. But it wasn't a wonder. His boiler was an old thing he'd salvaged several decades ago when he'd first started expanding the factory underground, and he no longer bothered with coming up to the surface to sleep and bathe.

Karl let out a humorless laugh when a sudden pain bloomed in his chest. He couldn't believe it. He actually missed the factory. The place that had simultaneously been his prison and his sanctuary. His jaw tightened, and he clenched his fist, leaning his forearm against the cool tiles. It was pathetic. He had his freedom, he wasn't supposed to look back at anything from that place with longing. But he still did. He missed his workshop. He missed tinkering and troubleshooting, trying new creative ways to find solutions. And he missed the predictability of it all. He missed working towards a goal, feeling how progress was slowly being made.

Not wanting to continue down that dangerous path, Karl reached for the soap and started lathering up his body. The bubbles emitted a strong flowery scent, which felt so out of place coming from him, and he chuckled at the absurdity of it. He really was a fish out of water. But he couldn't deny that being clean made him feel better, and the warm water had managed to chase away some of the soreness in his muscles.

Turning off the shower, Karl reached for one of the towels placed on a little white shelf. It too smelled of flowers, and it was surprisingly soft.  He dried his hair and started working the towel down his body, gritting his teeth when he dragged it across a large purple bruise spanning across his side and hipbone.

He paused when he heard a knock on the door, followed by a soft whisper, "open up."

Karl paused for a brief moment before he secured the towel around his waist to cover up his junk. The father had probably forgotten something in the bathroom. Karl looked around, but nothing seemed out of place. No toothbrush, pacifier, or whatever else someone like Ethan might need.

Ethan knocked again, "Karl." He sounded impatient, and with a wave of his hand, Karl unlocked the door, turning his back to Ethan as the father entered. His presence loaded with feigned levity, Karl pretended not to care about his state of undress, figuring Ethan would be in and out in no time. He could uphold his facade for that.

But Ethan didn't move to search the room for the presumed lost item, nor did he leave. He just stood there. Karl could feel Ethan's heavy gaze on his back. He tensed. He felt naked, in more ways than one. He felt exposed and vulnerable without any of his usual layers. His clothes, his shades, his hat. Nothing. No barrier between himself and the force of nature that was Ethan Winters.

But he had let Ethan into the room already, so asking him to step out and wait while he got dressed wasn't an option. He should have thought about putting on his underwear and shirt before he let Ethan in. If he'd known the father would linger, he would have made him wait.

Not wanting to lose face, Karl crossed his arms over his chest and turned toward Ethan, putting on a cocky grin, like he was oh so comfortable with the situation. Like he didn't care that Ethan saw the many scars decorating his skin, like he wasn't the first he'd willingly shown his almost naked body to since...

Karl refused to finish that thought. He had worked so hard on reacquainting himself with his body and how it felt, after Miranda had invaded it and cut him open, only to sew him back together, but as something changed, something no longer human. For a long time, he had felt like a stranger in his own flesh. He had been disgusted and humiliated. It had taken a great deal of effort to regain his own sense of self, while making peace with his changed body and the powers it possessed. It had been the first step in his rebellion against Mother Dearest, long before he had even started drafting the first rough sketches of his Soldaten.

He refused to let Ethan Winters take away that hard-earned progress.

Lips lifting in a predatory grin that showed too many teeth to be civil, Karl looked at Ethan. "Forgot something, Winters?" he drawled, voice low and rough, like gravel dragged across steel.

Ethan didn't answer, nor did he look at him. Instead, he reached behind himself and locked the door. The metallic click sounded like a gunshot to Karl's ears. His grin faltered for half a beat, as he held his breath. His eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the father, trying his best to get a read on him. But Ethan remained closed off. Karl held his breath, not in fear, but in anticipation. The ball was in Ethan's court.

Ethan swallowed and took a step further into the room, causing the steam to whirl up around them. Then he lifted his gaze, stealing Karl's breath away, as those warm hazel eyes regarded him in such a soft manner. No one had ever looked at him like that. It was different than the raw hunger that he'd witnessed in the cabin and so far removed from the feral anger he'd experienced in the factory, when Karl had wrapped his spit-soaked glove around Ethan's waiting cock.

This was something else entirely. Something tender. And Karl didn't know how to deal with that, because what if he got a taste of something softer than the anger, and he became addicted? Could he live with that? Could he go back to the angry snarl and the icy glares, once he'd gotten the honey-sweet taste of gentleness? Karl didn't know, but he couldn't say no either, not when Ethan bit his lower lip and dropped his gaze to the floor, like he'd suddenly become shy. Not when Karl saw eight fingers twitch like they ached to reach out for him.

It was dangerous and borderline insane. Every warning bell inside Karl's mind demanded that he keep his distance, that he was at risk of being burned alive. But he couldn't stop. It wasn't self-preservation that kicked in, but his own selfish need for something more, something other than anguish and pain. Even if the scale tipped and Ethan decided that Karl had served his use and abandoned him--like a failed experiment--Karl would still have this moment. It would warm him up when soft gazes turned to icy glares that threatened to freeze his soul.

Even if Ethan lost his nerve and decided he didn't want this part of their deal, Karl would still have witnessed this side of the father.

Karl grinned and leaned closer, invading Ethan's space, slowly gazing him up and down. "I must have done something right the first time, Winters. Otherwise, you wouldn't be coming back so soon. Or is that itch really so deep-seated in you that you already need release again?" He taunted.

 He knew he pushed the father's buttons, unable to stop himself. He longed for the softness, yet he enticed the anger and frustration, because that was what he knew. It had been a constant between them ever since the factory, and Karl knew how to react to that, how to engage in their dance of push and pull. He didn't know how to handle the softness, unsure if he was even capable of doing so after having it ripped away from him again and again by Miranda's hand. And then there was the constant nagging in the back of his mind, the fear of having misread Ethan's intentions, that the soft gazes had only been a fragment of his imagination.

Ethan huffed, a flicker of annoyance flashing across his features, but none of them settled, which was a surprise. Karl observed Ethan intensely, taking note of every micromovement of his body, the way his fingers twitched, and his rib cage lifted with each breath. The way his eyes darted to Karl's body, sneaking a peek.

Above them, the light bulb flickered, and Karl slammed a mental lid over his powers, reeling the magnetic field back into his body, still pretending like he had everything under control.

"The girls are asleep," Ethan whispered and glanced at Karl, his hazel eyes settling on the dark, hairy trail leading from Karl's navel to the edge of the towel. 

Heat spread in the pit of Karl's stomach, along with a confusing mix of relief and disappointment. It was just the itch that Ethan needed him to take care of. Nothing more and nothing less. It was all part of their deal.

Karl grinned and shifted his weight, loosening his grip on the towel just slightly to watch Ethan's cheeks burn hotter, as Karl revealed more of his own body. He knew he wasn't a pretty sight, too scarred and marked by what he had to endure to survive. Yet, Ethan looked at him, like he was good enough to eat. His entire metal army could march at his command, Miranda could kneel at his feet, but nothing would ever come close to the ego boost it was to have the God-bringer look at him like that. Ethan's hungry gaze dragged over every bit of exposed skin, halting at the Y-shaped scar on his chest, from where Miranda had forced his rib-cage open and inserted the cadou. Ethan swallowed hard, and something akin to sympathy or pity flashed across his features, overshadowing the raw need. Karl didn't like it.

"This feels kind of like deja vu," Karl forced out a deep chuckle, tone dropping an octave lower than usual, just to move things along to get Ethan to stop looking at him with sudden sympathy. He hadn't opened the door and let Ethan inside, only for the father to start pitying him. "Only I was slightly more dressed last time," he continued, keeping with the way he'd imagined this would go, using their previous encounters to make a mental script for himself. It was easier than trying to figure out what that soft, tender look had meant and what role it played in this. There were too many variables and unknowns, too high a risk of fucking things up and ending up scorched and disappointed.

Ethan swallowed visibly and tore his gaze away. Karl expected a snappy comment, some kind of comeback, or an order to just get on with it like last time. But Ethan did neither. Instead, he just stood there and looked at the wet floor. Karl narrowed his eyes, his uncertainty morphing into frustration.

"What's the matter, Winters? Cat got your tongue?" He purred, mindful to keep his voice low. He figured it would be easier to get Ethan to move along if the father was sure they wouldn't be waking up the kids in the process. 

Ethan glared at him, his nostrils flaring in brief anger, but then his shoulders dropped and he exhaled slowly, like he was willing away his own aggression. That was new. So far, Ethan seemed to lean into the anger whenever possible, like it was the fuel that pushed him forward. Karl didn't know what to make of it, when instead of fanning the flame of rage, Ethan reached out for him, gently placing his hands against Karl's meaty sides. His electrical organ flared up at the sensation, his body sensitive and hyper-aware of the skin pressing against his own. A shiver zapped up and down his spine like an electrical current, and Karl's lips parted with a soft gasp, before he had a chance to stop the noise from escaping.

Ethan looked up at him. He'd heard it too. Of fucking course he had. But he was merciful enough not to mention it.

Heart beating loudly in his chest, Karl held Ethan's gaze, trying his best to gauge his reaction, attempting to get a read on what he was expected to do next. So much for the fucking mental script.

Ethan licked his lips, a nervous habit that would surely be Karl's downfall, his gaze dropping to Karl's mouth, to his neck and chest, before it settled on where Ethan's fingers fanned Karl's side, lightly digging into the soft flesh.

Karl waited for Ethan to do something, anything that could clue him in on what the other needed from him. But Ethan just kept standing there, and it started to piss Karl off.

So he reached for Ethan's trousers, done waiting for the father to make the first move. He had tried waiting on him, tried giving him time. But if he was too damn stubborn to voice what he needed, then fucking fine, Karl could take care of it on his own.

Ethan slapped his hand away. "No," he muttered, his voice not quite steady.

The irritation flared back up, clashing with sudden confusion, which made the whole thing even worse.

"Stop playing fucking coy, Winters. We both know this is why you came here," he hissed, voice laced with annoyance and a growing need to act. He ignored the voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him, that this was it. This was the fuck-up that would tip the scale. Karl pushed it away, locking the notion away in the back of his mind. He knew it would come back later with a vengeance, but for now, he needed to stick to his plan, no matter how faulty it was.

He reached for Ethan again, just as deliberate as before,  like he hadn't been rejected the first time. Like his heart wasn't pounding in his chest, threatening to break through his rib cage and reopen the old Y-incision.

"Would you just stop for a fucking second," Ethan snapped and grabbed both of Karl's wrists to stop him from reaching for him again. His thumbs dug into Karl's skin, like an anchor preventing Karl from tugging himself free.

Despite the fact that Karl usually ran hot and he still felt warm after the shower, the absence of Ethan's hands on his sides left behind a cold sensation, like his body had already become addicted to Ethan's touch, even the strange, and annoying ones, that Karl didn't know what to make of.

"Why are you stalling?" He demanded to know and leaned closer, making sure to invade Ethan's personal space, if only to see the way Ethan tensed. " I don't know about you, but I've had a pretty fucking long day, so I'm not in the mood for your games," He snapped sounding meaner than he intended to. Ethan stilled, and Karl could practically see the added weight on the scale, pressing down harder and harder.

"I'm not playing," Ethan said, a warning, and there was the anger.

Karl welcomed it, leaned into it. He could deal with anger. Anger was good and predictable. At least that was what Karl told himself, ignoring the longing for the brief moment of tenderness from when Ethan had first entered. He was getting greedy and would only end up getting hurt.

"Then get to the fucking point. What is it you want?" He demanded to know out of spite and annoyance, but also sudden necessity, which took him by surprise. 

Now that the words had left his mouth, Karl felt much he needed the answer. He fucking needed Ethan to tell him, what he wanted from him, what he should do. For the past three decades, Karl had known his purpose. He'd had a plan, and each decision, each word leaving his mouth had been tailored around that. One ultimate goal. And with that reached, Karl didn't know where he stood, which way to turn. He had reached the end of his manuscript, and he had never been good at improvising. The fear of taking a bad turn or saying the wrong thing was a paralyzing force that Karl had kept at bay for so long that he had almost forgotten it existed. But now it was back, and Karl didn't know how to deal with it.

So he looked to Ethan, but then that stubborn idiot had to go and mess up their perfectly fine system of anger and release by adding a new variable, the sudden tenderness.

He had to go and turn their script on its head, had to go and give Karl a taste of something more. And that single scrap of affection had stirred something deep within Karl: hope. The most dangerous thing of all, something that Karl had distracted himself from for so long, successfully so even. When working on his metal army, he would only think about the upcoming battle, never what could happen after. It had worked, kept him focused, and kept the dread at bay. But with Ethan dangling bits and pieces of warmth and tenderness in front of him, like a slab of meat in front of a starving wolf, Karl couldn't help but hope, allowing himself to wish for something he hadn't experienced in so long.

"Well?" He pushed, when Ethan hadn't snapped like he'd hoped he would.

"I don't fucking know what I want." The desperation in Ethan's voice felt like a slap in the face, and Karl would have stepped back if it wasn't for Ethan's iron grip on his wrists. It grew tighter and tighter for each passing second, and Karl was sure, that if he had been human, Ethan would have snapped the bone. Would he be able to break free if he wanted to? Or had Ethan found yet another way to leash him without even knowing about it?

"Should have thought of that before you came in here," Karl pointed out, not bothering to hide his irritation. He tugged his hands toward himself, and Ethan's tight grip loosened slightly. Ethan's fingers slid across the sensitive skin, making goosebumps spread up and down Karl's arms. They both ignored it.

"Just give me a moment," it sounded almost like a plea, and wasn't that just strange? Ethan Winters didn't plead; he came in guns blazing, killing everything that stood in his way, including monsters like Karl. But that sound, those words. So enticing that Karl obeyed and stayed still.

Ethan swallowed hard and slowly let go of Karl with one hand, his fingers tracing a soft pattern across the skin that surely would be bruising later. And then that very same hand reached for Karl's towel and tugged it loose. Karl inhaled sharply when all of him was laid bare before the father.

He didn't know whether to welcome Ethan's gaze or shy away from it. He felt desired, yet exposed. Aroused yet terrified. The coal-burn of Ethan's arousal was so evident in his gaze, in the way he drank Karl up, and yet Karl felt vulnerable, with nothing to hide himself behind. Like back in Miranda's lab, tied to the operating table, his rib cage cracked open and Miranda peering at his insides. There had been nowhere to hide. Not then and not now.

How was his body supposed to know that it was Ethan examining every part of his exposed flesh and not Miranda? Because Miranda didn't stroke her thumb across Karl's wrists, her breath didn't quicken when she looked at him. Ethan's did. He looked at him with want and not just clinical curiosity.

Pushing back the fear and discomfort, Karl glared at Ethan, trying to get the father to look at him and not his junk. Heat bloomed across Ethan's cheeks, and Karl heard how he sucked in a sharp breath, making Karl realize that it was the first time Ethan had seen his cock. The other two times it had been Ethan out in the open, and the last time Karl had only joined in when Ethan's back had been turned.  He raised a brow when Ethan finally met his gaze. He tilted his head and made a gesture with his hand that clearly said 'well, what now?'. Because Karl didn't know. He had tried pushing the father like he had back at the cabin, tried to make it about Ethan's release, but the stubborn idiot wasn't letting him, and it was starting to piss Karl off. Especially when his lack of action started stirring shit up in Karl's head.

Ethan's gaze dropped again like he couldn't look away, and Karl's cock throbbed at the sudden attention.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you going to do something, Winters?" He challenged, slowly finding his footing again, gaining momentum.

Ethan shot him a hard glare, but the gesture lost its effectiveness because of the way Ethan's pupils were blown and the way he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You're making this really hard," Ethan whispered, no longer trying to pretend he wasn't staring at Karl's half hard cock.

Karl smirked and chuckled darkly, the sound laced with heat and mischief. "Apparently not hard enough."

Another groan, and Karl felt more than proud of himself. He also felt ridiculous standing with his cock out. So when Ethan made no other attempt to actually move things along, he bent down to retrieve his towel, just to fuck with Winters and see what he would do.

 He stopped halfway towards the floor, his fingers closing around the soft fabric, when he felt Ethan's warm hand back on his hip. He turned his head slightly and looked at him, willing his gaze to turn hard and filled with fake annoyance. He raised a brow, silently daring Ethan to try and argue with him. Ethan looked right back at him, his hazel eyes narrowed, his lips pressed in a thin line, and his jaw tensed. He looked just as concentrated and focused as he had when he'd fought Karl's siblings back in the village.  

Without another word, Ethan kneaded Karl's side, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Taken aback by the sudden sensation, Karl gasped and dropped the towel, his fingertips buzzing with static. Ethan didn't let Karl's surprise stop him. With his hand, he urged Karl to stand up again, as he continued to grope greedily at Karl's side, dragging his hands across his hips and over the curve of Karl's ass. He gripped him harder, and Karl felt the uneven distribution of fingers. Five on one side, three on the other, reminding him that it was Ethan's hands on him.

"Ethan--" Karl started, his voice cutting off abruptly as Ethan let go of his backside and slid his hand up the inside of Karl's thigh, fingers grazing through the tiny, soft hairs, inching closer toward Karl's cock.

Ethan didn't look at him as he tentatively closed his hand-- his right one, with all the fingers intact-- around Karl's burning flesh. Karl groaned deep in his throat and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from making an awfully embarrassing sound. He cursed under his breath and scrubbed his face with his palm, trying to get his shit together.

He knew he would be sensitive; it had been a little over a decade since Marius, but this was ridiculous. His skin felt like it was on fire, and every single nerve ending fired in bliss when Ethan slowly dragged his hand up and down his cock, pulling back the foreskin and swiping his thumb across the head.

Ethan's hazel eyes sought out Karl's gaze, and held him there, pinned him in place as he slowly worked his hand up and down in a torturous rhythm. It was the same steel focus that Karl had observed on the camera feed of Ethan making his way through the village. It was the same clenched jaw and stubborn attitude as he worked Karl efficiently and with deadly precision.

Karl had half a mind to try and reach out for Ethan again, to try and turn the thing into something mutual, to be of use so he could make sure Ethan got something out of it as well. It didn't sit right with him to have the father's undivided attention, without giving something in return. It made his stomach tighten and his toes curl.

"Don't," Ethan warned, sounding out of breath even though it was Karl getting his cock stroked and not him. It was flattering, yet so fucking confusing.

Karl didn't know what had caused the sudden change in the father, or why he made the encounter about Karl and not himself, when Karl was more than on board with turning things around. Their deal never stated that Ethan had to reciprocate. Karl had known that when he'd offered to help the father out. He was fine with Ethan's anger and sexual aggression that had grown between them ever since their fight in the factory. He could live with that, since it made it very clear that it was nothing more than a deal. There had been enough distance for Karl not to get attached. He could settle for the scraps that Ethan threw his way, learn to live with the short moments of transactional intimacy. Pathetic, he knew that. He never claimed it to be anything but.

He was curious and greedy, wanting to learn everything about Ethan. He knew what he sounded like when angry or hurt. What did he sound like at the height of passion? What sweet nothing could he whisper in the morning? Just what kind of tenderness was he capable of? Karl wanted it. He wanted Ethan. He was curious about him, enthralled by him. Obsessed with him, in every sense of the word.

He would have settled for the one-sided transaction(or was it actually an attraction at this point?), but then Ethan had to go and do this, making it impossible for Karl to look away and distance himself any longer.

His skin felt too hot despite his lack of clothing.  Arousal burned in the pit of his stomach, making him buck into Ethan's hand. Ignoring Ethan's warning, Karl reached out for the man and cupped the back of his head. He roughly pulled Ethan closer and crashed their lips together. He couldn't remember how to be gentle or kind. His edges were too sharp to be filed down, so he kissed Ethan like it was another battle. He nipped at Ethan's bottom lip, biting down hard, just to show Ethan that it was okay if he changed his mind, if he wanted to turn back to how they'd done it before. He could still provide him with the fueling pain and a reason to fight, but Ethan didn't take the bait.

The harsher Karl kissed him, the gentler Ethan moved his lips against Karl's, and the softer his touch became. Karl's fight died down, and Ethan took control over the kiss, slowing it down and turning it into something gentle and soft, to a slide of lips rather than a clash of teeth. Pure arousal morphed into confused desire, that spread up from deep within his chest along with curiosity and greed.

He wanted the slide of Ethan's tongue into his mouth, his hand on Karl's cock, his teeth biting into his skin. He wanted everything the man had to offer, and then some. He wanted to devour Ethan in an attempt to figure out what made him tick.

And he wanted to care for him, even if Winters didn't care for him in return. He had survived decades under Miranda's thumb, suppressing his wants and needs, operating in the shadows, where he could hide away from the consequences of others knowing his true desires. He had done it before, he could do it again. Care for and worship Ethan from afar. Without tipping the scale.

"Fuck, you're full of surprises, Winters," he growled into Ethan's mouth, dragging his fingers across the man's scalp, while he shivered against him, as the pleasure kept building.

A few strokes, and he was already close to the edge.

"You should know that by now," Ethan said, his words ghosting along Karl's lips.

Before Karl had the chance to lean in for another taste, Ethan pulled back. And then he dropped lower, settling on his knees in front of Karl. He forgot how to breathe, his autonomic nervous system shutting down due to the sight in front of him. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out.

Ethan pressed one hand to Karl's hip as he got the other around the base of his cock, thumb stroking up and down the underside, his attention fixed on the way his hands moved. A deep red tinted his cheeks, and Karl itched to reach for him, to cup his chin and make the father look up at him. Ethan licked his lips. Karl bit back a moan, his whole body felt like a live wire, built up static buzzing under his skin. It was a wonder Ethan hadn't been zapped yet.

And then there was a hot mouth around his cock. Karl cursed and bucked his hips forward without meaning to. Ethan gagged and pulled back slightly, glaring up at Karl, like he was trying to warn him. But all Karl could focus on was the way Ethan's lips stretched around his cock.

Still glaring at him, Ethan put a steadying hand on Karl's hip, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Karl went very, very still. Like a deer caught in the blinding light, but not from the likes of a truck, but from the burning inferno that was Ethan Winters. Karl couldn't look away. He stayed perfectly still, obeying Ethan's silent demand, afraid that if he moved, Ethan would realize what he was doing and come to his senses, leaving Karl high and dry.

Karl couldn't smother the moan that Ethan wrung out of him when he started moving again, swirling his tongue around the head, the same thing he'd done to Karl's fingers back at the cabin. Karl bit his bottom lip, the old scar turning almost white, as he held back another moan.

Ethan closed his eyes and started bobbing his head. Keeping his grip on the base, Ethan worked more of him into his mouth, his spit dripping down Karl's cock and over his balls. It was messy and uncoordinated, but it was the best damn thing ever, and Karl couldn't get enough. He wanted more.

He wanted Ethan to take him down his throat. He wanted the man's hands on every part of his body. He wanted to be consumed by the God-bringer.

"Fuck," he cursed and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't dare to keep looking at Ethan, the sight alone was enough to make his balls tighten, and the pleasure building along cock, making him throb in Ethan's mouth.

In return, Ethan hummed, and that did not help at all. Groaning, Karl slammed his head back, hitting the cold tiles.

"We're going to have a problem, if you keep doing that, Ethan," he breathed out the man's name like it was a prayer, and Ethan answered it by denying him mercy.

Ethan hummed around his cock again, moaning like he couldn't get enough, making Karl's toes curl against the floor. It took every ounce of willpower not to snap his hips forward and force his hard cock down Ethan's throat. He desperately wanted to, but the consequences were too great. He didn't want to risk what little progress he'd made with Ethan.

Because this was progress. This was Ethan giving, and not just taking. This was something other than a desperate need and utilized anger. And Karl wanted to savor it, he wanted whatever Ethan was willing to give him. And when the moment was done, Karl wanted to relive it over and over in his head, turning it over and examining it from every possible angle until he was one step closer to understanding the Californian enigma.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Karl dropped his hands to Ethan's head, loosely tangling his fingers in the short blond hair. And Ethan let him do it.

"Look at you," Karl purred, the overwhelming pleasure shutting off his usual tightly run brain-to-mouth filter, "I could get used to seeing you like this, Ethan." And he meant it. He could get used to seeing Ethan letting go and being soft, indulging in something other than violence.  He could get used to being looked at like he was worth something, like he truly mattered. Such a dangerous notion. 

Ethan huffed, the gesture sending ripples of pleasure up Karl's spine, making his legs shake. Pulling back slightly, Ethan let go of Karl's cock. His lips shone with spit and precum. Karl wanted nothing more than to lick into his mouth and taste himself on Ethan's tongue.

"You really don't know when to shut up," he muttered. The tip of Karl's cock rested against Ethan's swollen lips, which brushed against the sensitive head for every word he spoke.

Karl grinned down at him, trying his best not to let it show how quickly he was unraveling under Ethan's skilled mouth. Fire burned in the pit of his stomach, and his head spun from the constant onslaught of sensations.

"That can be easily fixed," he purred, doing his best to put up a front of forced levity and smugness, to hide his desperate need. He felt like he was free-falling, spiraling out of control, all because of the blonde and what he did to him. He wasn't equipped to handle the sudden undivided attention. He needed to regroup. "We can turn this little thing around, and I co--ah!" 

Ethan buried his face in Karl's crotch, nuzzling the hard shaft with his nose as he licked Karl's balls, effectively shutting him up. His tongue was as deadly as his aim, and Karl knew he was fighting a losing battle trying to keep his distance. Winters had him wrapped in his web, probably without even realizing just how smitten Karl was by him.

 Taking the whole head into his mouth, Ethan hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard, forcing a groan and a whole body jerk out of Karl. He gritted his teeth and let out a broken curse that sounded dangerously close to a plea.

 Ethan tongued at Karl's slit, while he worked his hand up and down the shaft, spreading saliva and precum over the parts he couldn't reach with his mouth.  Ethan's ribcage heaved up and down with his heavy breathing, and spit dripped down his chin. Then there was a hand cupping his balls, covering them in saliva as well, making his fingers slide easily across the heated skin. Winters was playing dirty again, and there wasn't a damn thing Karl could do about it.

The nails in the walls rattled, making the frames sway dangerously, and the scale around Karl's neck lifted as his electrical organ jittered and buzzed from the intensity. Energy built up inside of him, begging to be discharged, desperately searching for release. The hair on Karl's body stood up, and his toes curled. Without meaning to, his electromagnetic field extended, causing the needle on his compass to spin rapidly. His chest ached, and heat pooled below his hairy navel. The light above them buzzed, the sound growing louder and louder, the light burning too bright. Then it exploded, sending down a cascade of sparks. Instinctively, Karl moved to cover Ethan's eyes, protecting the blonde from harm.
Ethan groaned and moved his hand to tangle his fingers with Karl's, lacing them together. He opened his eyes and looked up at Karl, locking their gazes. Karl observed the hazel orbs, seeing the steel determination reflected in them, and there behind that, the desire and the brief tenderness that Karl knew would be his doom.

"Fuck, Winters. I--" he gasped and tapped against Ethan's skull, warning the other man, but like with everything else Ethan didn't listen. In fact, he did the exact opposite. He squeezed Karl's hand and hollowed his cheeks, swirling his tongue around the sensitive head. Karl's lips parted as he panted, no choice but to surrender to the absolute hurricane that was Ethan Winters.

His whole body shuddered as his orgasm hit him, hard and merciless, ripping through him like a strong current. Biting down hard on his lower lip, Karl broke skin, the tangy coppery taste barely registering in his mind. Forcing his eyes open, Karl watched as Ethan stayed where he was, his throat working as he swallowed. Karl's eyes widened at the sight, and something other than lust ignited under his heated skin at the thought of having marked Ethan so profoundly. Inside and out. Karl's hands shook when he pushed against Ethan's shoulders as pleasure turned to discomfort, his skin becoming sensitive. His nerve endings felt raw and frayed, like an exposed wire.

Karl's chest heaved, and his mouth watered at the sight before him. Ethan Winters, the one-man army who had torn through the village, on his knees with his lips parted, and a tent visible in his pants. Karl couldn't look away. Arousal and morbid curiosity raced through his system, making his fingers twitch with the need to touch and explore. How was one supposed to act in such a situation? What did Ethan expect from him? Would it be frowned upon if he tried to reciprocate? Or was that what Ethan wanted from him? What if it wasn't? Ethan had made it pretty clear several times what he thought about Karl, and how he had only been good for helping take down Miranda and for seeking release. How would the father react if he found out that Karl craved more? Would the wish be met with mockery or a gun to his head? Would it be encouraged? Would it tip the scale or bring it back to equilibrium?

I don't give a damn about your personal issues.

Maybe this was nothing more than that. A personal issue. An issue about wanting more than what was in the cards. He had survived Miranda. He had escaped the village, and he was about to leave Romania. He had all of this, and yet he still craved more. How stupid of him. Like Icarus flying too close to the sun. But instead of wax wings, it was a deep-seated hunger, and the sun came in the form of a Californian man. He'd burned off Karl's carefully constructed wings, torn through his contraption with his determination and his peculiar body, and left Karl falling towards the ground. With no plan and no next step. No script to follow.

Karl licked his lips, desperately trying to find the right words. But his mind was running a million miles an hour, and he feared that if he tried to speak, he would trip and stutter, his mouth not fast enough to keep up with his racing mind. But something needed to be said. He was expected to act.

So Karl did what he did best, and reverted back to his usual role, and plastered on a grin as he hummed and looked down at Ethan, like he'd planned for him to end up there all along.  Like he wasn't unsteady on his legs from the first real physical contact in ages.

"I could get used to seeing you like this, Ethan," he repeated, his tone and gaze dropping as he voiced the man's name, "someone is looking mighty uncomfortable. Why don't you lean back and allow me to take care of that?" He offered, having learned so far, that Ethan did need a little push, even though it was so clear what he wanted. Karl offered his service, but in reality, all Ethan had to do was ask, and Karl would do anything for him.

He had flown too close to the sun, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Text

Ethan didn't know what had gotten into him. There had been something about the way Heisenberg had held himself all through the day that had gotten under his skin. The way he'd looked when he'd bounced Rose on his lap, and the rare--but also totally strange--tender moment Ethan had walked in on between Eveline and Heisenberg. The offer to build prosthetics for Ethan's missing fingers. It had all built up inside of him and pushed him forward. When he'd entered the bathroom, he hadn't exactly planned to drop to his knees and suck off the former lord, but that's what happened.

Ethan didn't regret it. He had been through too much, survived too much, to regret something like that. And it had been worth it, just to hear the sounds Heisenberg made and the way Ethan could feel him shake under his fingers as he approached his orgasm. It had been the real Heisenberg, the man behind the bravado, who had gasped his name and caused the light to explode. They still needed to come up with an excuse to tell Elena.

And it had to be better than the excuse Ethan had muttered when Heisenberg had offered to take care of Ethan's erection. Ethan had mumbled something about it getting late and the risk of waking the girls. All lies, but Ethan couldn't risk Heisenberg going through with his offer. Blowing the former lord had left Ethan hard and aching, and the urge to grip Heisenberg's graying hair and shove his cock down the man's throat had been very much present. However, allowing Heisenberg to reciprocate would turn the encounter into something else, something mutual and complicated. And Ethan didn't need that. He had only offered to suck Heisenberg's cock as a thank you for all the help he'd given that day. That was it. It was nothing more than that.

That's what Ethan kept telling himself as he turned in the bed yet again. Sitting up slightly, Ethan glanced toward Rose. In the darkness of the room, he could barely make out her outline, and even that could be a trick of the light. He couldn't hear her breathing, not over the sound of Heisenberg's loud snoring. He sounded like a chainsaw, setting Ethan's teeth on edge. The sound settled like an itch under his skin, flirting with his fight-or-flight response, making him jumpy and alert. The shadows in the corner of the room looked like Mia waiting for Ethan with the chainsaw. The tree branches scraping against the window sounded like a murder of crows was gathering outside, moments away from flocking together until Miranda appeared. 

"Fuck," Ethan kicked off the covers and groaned, dragging a hand down his face. 

He felt restless and exhausted at the same time. Maybe he should have taken Heisenberg up on his offer and gotten off; maybe that would have taken the edge off his anxiety and helped him sleep. But it would have been too much, too frequent. Almost like Ethan enjoyed having the man's cock in his mouth, like he loved the way Heisenberg looked when he was caught up in pleasure, his pupils blown wide, lips parted, as he gripped the sink hard enough to crack the surface. Biting his lower lip hard, Ethan shook his head and glared down at the former lord, as if it was his fault that Ethan couldn't stop thinking about what had happened.

Heisenberg slept on his back, one arm tossed over his eyes, and the other spread out across the bed, taking up as much space as possible. He'd kicked off the duvet, which pooled around his feet, and his green undershirt had ridden up, revealing his soft stomach and the trail of hair leading to the top of his thin-worn underwear. He looked peaceful while he slept, unguarded, without his usual armor to hide behind. He mumbled in his sleep. Between snores, Ethan caught something that could have been a word, but it sounded foreign. Another loud snore, which had Ethan rolling his eyes. Even in his sleep, the man was unable to shut up.

Glancing back at Rose's crib, Ethan slowly moved out of the bed, just to make sure she was still there, that she hadn't been taken again. He found her, just where he'd left her ten minutes ago. Still asleep, still safe. Leaning over her, Ethan tugged up her blanket, making sure she wasn't freezing. He held a finger in front of her mouth, the feeling of her breath across his skin soothed the worry inside of him. At least for now. She was still breathing. Whole and alive.  Safe.

Now that he was up, Ethan checked on Eveline as well. She was curled up into a tight ball, the lower half of her face hidden by the covers, and her brows were knitted in a tight expression. She looked just like a kid, struggling with a bad dream. Ethan gently rubbed her shoulder, careful not to wake her. He wondered what she was dreaming about. The mold? The Bakers? Or her life before that? What had her life been like before the storm that led her and Mia into the Bakers' backyard? Had her life been anything like Heisenberg's? Filled with horrible procedures and pain. And what part had Mia played in all of that?

Ethan's stomach dropped at the thought of Mia. The woman he'd gone through hell and high waters to save. She had been his everything. And she had kept everything from him. The uncovered betrayal still felt like an open wound that soured his memory of her, made him question whether Mia had ever really loved him, or if he had just been her cover story. Sour bile rose in his throat, and his eyes stung. Grief, anger, and longing battled for dominance inside of him. It didn't matter what emotion won. He couldn't change the past, nor could he change what he had become. There was only one thing left to do, and that was to move forward.  Looking at Eveline one last time, to make sure whatever nightmare she had been struggling against hadn't overtaken her sleep, Ethan climbed back into his bed.

Putting as much distance between himself and the former lord, Ethan lay at the very edge of the bed, his back toward Heisenberg. His loud snoring became a focal point, something for his mind to latch onto and focus on, instead of running amok with countless what-if scenarios.

Ethan closed his eyes, and with time, sleep overtook him, but with it came the nightmares. Without the visual anchor of his surroundings or his conscious mind acting as a buffer, his subconscious started to wander.

The sound behind him turned more metallic and became louder. A chainsaw being swung from side to side. The laughter, high-pitched and manic as Mia stumbled forward, settling on top of Ethan. She laughed and then screamed while she stabbed him over and over with the screwdriver. Then it was Chris sucker-punching him in the chin, followed by Lucas pinning him down. Lucas vanished, and Mia returned, riding him this time, moaning as she took his cock. Her face scrunched up in ecstasy, her mouth falling open, before her features shifted, replacing the pleasure with fury and hatred, as she leaned forward and closed her hands around his throat. Then it was Jack Baker's fist in his face, welcoming him to the family, and his foot on Ethan's throat, killing him. With death came the mold, and Eveline's taunting words, then her mutated form, just before Ethan killed her by shooting her with whatever neurotoxin Chris and his team had come up with. But it wasn't Eveline who cried out in pain, it was Rose. Rose was dying, and Ethan was the one who'd shot her. More laughter, as Miranda appeared from the mold, alive and powerful. Blood splattered as she dug her talons into Rose's weakened flesh and tore her apart.

Ethan's eyes snapped open, his heart beating so hard in his chest, he was sure it was about to burst through his rib cage. Tears streamed down his face, and his whole body shook. Burying his face in his hands, Ethan let out a shaky breath.

"Just a nightmare," he muttered to himself, "it was just a nightmare. It's normal. It's just the stress catching up to you. It's not real," he repeated his therapist's words like a mantra in an attempt to ground himself. His pulse roared in his ears, and his shirt clung to his frame, soaked through with sour sweat.

"Fuck," Ethan sat up again and looked toward the crib. Logic told him that Rose would be fine and still sleeping, but the cortisol and adrenaline pumping through his bloodstream spoke of danger, and he tugged his covers to the side, but a hand on his thigh stopped him before he could get out of bed.

"The kid's fine. It was just a fucking nightmare," Heisenberg groaned, having turned onto his side and reached across the bed for Ethan, "so stop moving around and go to sleep," he muttered, his voice gravelly with sleep and annoyance. Ethan looked at him over his shoulder. Heisenberg still had his eyes closed, and he was half lying on Ethan's pillow to reach him. He looked nothing like Miranda's most powerful lord. 

"Fuck you," Ethan whispered, because what else was he supposed to say? He pushed Heisenberg's hand away and got up to check on Rose. She was still there, still fine. 

"What did I tell you?" Even half asleep, Heisenberg still managed to sound smug. Ethan ignored him and stayed in front of the crib, unable to take his eyes off of Rose, in case something happened to her while he looked away.

Heisenberg huffed and muttered something intangible as he got out of bed as well. Ethan bristled at the sudden movement, his body tensing up and his heart rate increasing. Heisenberg scratched his belly and yawned as he approached Ethan. 

"Get the kid," he said, and gestured down at Rose.

Exhausted and with the terror from the nightmare still clinging to him, Ethan felt frozen in place. It was only when Heisenberg sighed and moved to pick up Rose himself that Ethan's body finally reacted. He swooped in at took Rose, before Heisenberg had a chance to touch her. Rose fussed in protest, and Ethan gently bounced her up and down to coax her back to sleep. Without another word, Heisenberg picked up the crib like it was nothing and placed it against Ethan's side of the bed. 

"Hopefully that'll stop you from tossing around so damn much," Heisenberg grumbled and moved to his side of the bed, leaving Ethan standing in the middle of the room, lost for words. He'd expected Heisenberg to either tease him for worrying too much or snap at him, to get his head out of his ass. He had not expected the former lord to try and help ease Ethan's anxiety by coming up with a solution. After Dulvey, Ethan had been equally plagued by nightmares and the fear of losing Mia, but Mia hadn't acknowledged it. She had wanted to pretend like everything was fine. She had wanted to move on and forget that Dulvey ever happened. Ethan had wanted that as well, but his nightmares made it impossible to forget. When he woke up at night, screaming, struggling to separate nightmares from memories, present from past, Mia pretended not to hear him, and if she did, she asked him to sleep in the guestroom, because she needed to get up early the next day.

"What are you guys doing?" Eveline mumbled and turned in her bed, tugging the covers over her head.

"Just making sure Papa can keep an eye on both of you," Heisenberg answered, before Ethan had a chance to open his mouth.

"That's weird," Eveline protested, but without any heat in her voice, which was heavy with sleep. 

"Doesn't matter," Heisenberg shrugged and flopped back down on the bed, dragging an arm over his eyes, leaving Ethan with Rose in his arms, staring at the mutant. How he could be so accommodating and dismissive at the same time was beyond Ethan. He didn't know whether to punch the man or thank him. He settled on neither. 

Instead, Ethan placed Rose back in the crib and crawled into bed. He slid one side of the crib down so he could comfortably lie in bed and reach into the crib to brush his fingers against Rose's side. He could feel the heat from her body and feel her ribs moving with each breath. She was alive and whole.

When Ethan could no longer postpone the need to rest, his eyes drifted close, but his hand stayed where it was, serving as an anchor to keep his mind from drifting as sleep overtook him.

--

Neither of them mentioned anything the next morning, not about the crib or what had happened in the bathroom. Ethan was grateful for both. They packed their things and cleaned up as much as possible in the bathroom, trying to salvage what they could of their clothes, but almost all wore the marks of battle and hardship. If they wanted to cross the border undetected, they needed new clothing. Ethan had seen some basic garments for sale in the shop they'd gone to yesterday, and he made a mental note to get something for himself and Heisenberg later.

Breakfast went relatively peacefully. Poking around in another living person's kitchen felt strange. Ethan had done his fair share of snooping and ransacking through other people's things, but that had been for the sake of survival. Without a weapon in his hand and adrenaline pumping in his veins, opening Elena's cupboards felt invasive and inappropriate.

"I already told you. The old lady said it was fine." Heisenberg reminded him for the tenth time, seemingly having no problem at all going through Elena's things and picking up what he found interesting. So far, his breakfast consisted of several different slices of cheese, smoked sausage, and freshly brewed coffee. Ethan settled on something more familiar and less challenging for his stomach: toast with jam. He slowly forced down small bites as he bottle-fed Rose

 "The only thing she asked in return was to write down if we finished something," Heisenberg continued as he sat down in front of Ethan. He nudged his coffee mug forward and raised a brow. He shrugged and pulled the mug back to himself when Ethan shook his head.

"It still feels weird," Ethan muttered as he put the now-empty bottle back on the table and turned Rose so he could gently pat her on her back.

Karl made a sound of disagreement and wolfed down his assortment of gathered food items. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Winters."

Not wanting to agree with Heisenberg out loud, Ethan focused on ensuring that Eveline ate as well and that they left the kitchen just as clean as when they had entered.  They packed up their stuff and bid their farewell to Elena, thanking her for her hospitality. Heisenberg made up a story about the circuit overloading upstairs, causing the light bulb to explode. Ethan didn't understand much of the conversation between the old woman and Heisenberg. His Romanian was lacking at best, and with the added dialect, he couldn't make heads or tails of what the woman was saying. Heisenberg was a bit easier to understand, but it wasn't his words that caught Ethan's attention. It was the way he held himself, the way his shoulders slumped slightly, and the way his voice sounded pacified and harmless.  The way he chuckled and smiled at Elena felt charming and welcoming... tame, compared to the sharp predatory grin Ethan had gotten used to. Another mask, another layer to hide behind.

Maybe it was just Ethan imagining things, but he liked to believe that he had gotten better at telling what was a mask and what was the man hiding underneath. And ever so often, Heisenberg's mask did slip, and something real shone through underneath. It most often happened when Heisenberg thought no one was looking. But Ethan found himself looking more at the former lord than he probably should, catching all those little moments. Like when the corner of Heisenberg's lips curled up into a knowing smile when he looked at Eveline journaling, or when he tensed because of a loud, unexpected noise.

"Where to now, papa?" Heisenberg asked when they got back into the car, keeping his tone light and his smile pleasant. He waved out of the window to Elena, who stood in the doorway, waving them goodbye.

"We'll make a quick stop at the store, and then we're heading for the border," Ethan said and offered Elena a small wave, before he started the car, mimicking turning the ignition just to be on the safe side, while Heisenberg started the car with his powers.

As soon as they were out of sight from Elena, Heisenberg's smile dropped, and the drawl was back in his voice. It was funny, Ethan actually preferred the gravelly rasp compared to the smooth, pacified tone.

"You went there yesterday, why do you have to go back?" he groaned.

Ethan huffed and continued his course towards the store. "In case you haven't noticed, you and I look awful. If we try to cross the border like this, we will be held back for sure." Ethan could almost see it in his mind's eye. The border control pulling them aside to check their papers and question them. All it would take was one silly mistake, one misspoken word, and their cover would be blown. Then it wouldn't be long before the BSAA or Chris's team caught wind of them.

"But the passports, The Duke--" Heisenberg started, but Ethan cut him off.

"It's not just about the passports," Ethan interrupted, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "It's about blending in and not causing a scene, and right now, we look like something out of a horror movie. So I'm getting us some more inconspicuous clothes," he said, leaving no room for arguments.

Probably sensing that it was a lost cause, Heisenberg kept his protests to himself. Instead, he turned his head to look out of the window, sitting with Rose on his lap, with an arm safely around her middle. The scale and the dog-tag had been tucked away and safely stored under his shirt, leaving only the tiny compass, which seemed harmless. But Rose didn't have any interest in that, she was busy trying to establish eye contact with the former lord. When that didn't work, she craned her neck to look behind her at Eveline. Lucky for her, Eveline was better at picking up the signals, and she looked up from her journal.

"What?" she asked Rose, and sighed dramatically when no clear answer came. Rose made a happy sound and smiled with her mouth open, highlighting her chubby cheeks.

Ethan smiled and looked from Rose to Eveline, catching her eye in the rear-view mirror. "I think she just likes looking at you," he explained. Eveline narrowed her eyes briefly and then looked back at Rose, who smiled at her and tried her best to turn around in Heisenberg's arms. Eveline's scowl softened, and Ethan was pretty sure he caught the beginning of a smile.
"She's weird," Eveline muttered, but she still leaned closer to Rose, who let out a string of sounds that sounded lighthearted and cheery. Ethan felt warmth spread inside of him at the display, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling. 

"I think we're all a little bit weird at this point... And that's not a bad thing," he quickly added, saying the words with as much conviction as possible, ignoring the dark cloud of dread looming in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could never go back to his normal life. He could never be normal. None of them could.

Parking in the same spot as the day before, Ethan turned off the engine and looked at Heisenberg. When sensing his gaze on him, Heisenberg turned to look at him, raising a brow, while he made a sound deep in his throat. 

"Do you want to come with me this time?" Ethan offered hesitantly. Heisenberg hadn't seemed pleased with the idea of going into the store, and Ethan had no idea why. He had thought the former lord would be thrilled at all of the new things to discover. From what Ethan had gathered so far, Heisenberg was smart, really fucking smart--not that Ethan would ever admit that to the engineer--and he struck Ethan as the kind of guy that would love to learn new stuff, evident by all of his notes and experiments in the factory. He refused to believe that all of that had just been for the sake of survival. There had to be some genuine curiosity behind it as well.  Ethan had been certain that, given the opportunity, Heisenberg would have been eager to learn what he'd been missing out on all this time. Ethan had pictured him like a kid in a candy store. Instead, he looked like a man on death row, or more accurately, like a man trying not to look like he was on death row. 

Heisenberg narrowed his eyes briefly, showing the crow's feet in the corners as his otherwise plump lips pressed into a firm line. He glanced at the storefront, and it itched in Ethan's fingers to tear off the sunglasses to get a proper look at the man, instead of the veiled facade Heisenberg permitted him to see.

"Nah," Heisenberg finally said, dragging out the word like it was no big deal, "I don't really see the point." 

He was lying. That much Ethan knew, and he wanted to know why. After everything they had been through, all the shit they had survived together, wasn't it then fair to expect honesty? Ethan glared at him a moment longer, testing to see if Heisenberg was willing to spill the beans on his own. Heisenberg held his ground. His jaw tensed and his nostrils flared in annoyance, bordering on anger. Pushing for an answer would be a bad idea. An answer wasn't worth the potential fight.

Ethan broke eye contact and huffed. "Suit yourself." Unbuckling his seat belt, Ethan pushed open the door, holding it open with one leg as he leaned into Karl's space and took Rose from him.

"I wanna come," Eveline quickly followed, leaving her journal and pens behind in the backseat. The sight of them warmed Ethan's heart. Seeing her engage in such a normal and childlike activity felt meaningful. Finally, she was able to do something enjoyable, just for the sake of doing it, instead of acting as a bioweapon. 

Ethan hummed in acknowledgment and gestured for her to go pick up a shopping cart for them. Worry bloomed briefly in the pit of Ethan's stomach when Eveline hurried across the parking lot, with its many moving cars, and he had to fight back the urge to call out for her to be careful. Eveline pulled a cart free and gestured for Ethan to hurry up.

"See you in a bit, " Ethan said, glancing at Heisenberg, but all he got in return was a dismissive grunt. Fucking prick. Ethan was trying to understand him, but that stubborn mule was making it way too hard.

Not wanting to get into a fight in the middle of the parking lot, Ethan bit back the snappy comment that was otherwise locked and loaded on the tip of his tongue.  If Heisenberg wanted to be a stubborn idiot who refused to communicate, then fine, that was his headache. It wasn't any of Ethan's business, anyway. He shouldn't even care about it. 

Ethan repeated that to himself several times as he crossed the parking lot and caught up with Eveline. Ethan placed Rose in the baby seat and grinned down at her, when she twisted and turned her body to look around. 

"At least she's not screaming this time," Eveline said, eyeing Rose suspiciously as she reached out for Ethan and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. 

Ethan paused for a brief moment, looking back and forth between the point of contact and Eveline. Eveline narrowed her eyes and refused to meet his gaze. A pale blush crept across her cheeks. Ethan was sure that if he said anything, she would let go and never try it again. So he didn't say anything. He angled his body so it was easier for Eveline to follow beside him, while he pushed the shopping cart with his free hand. 

"Let's hope it stays that way," Ethan glanced at Eveline and smiled, even though the young girl still refused to look at him.

"If she starts, I'm joining Karl in the car," she muttered, and Ethan didn't doubt her.

Having been to the store once already, Ethan had a vague idea of where most of the stuff they needed was. He slowly guided them up and down the aisles, picking up stuff he deemed useful.  Eveline kept her grip on Ethan's arm, following him closely, while she looked around. Ethan made sure to stop from time to time when he noticed that something had caught her attention, as he moved around to get the items from his mental shopping list.

"You two seem to be getting along. You and Heisenberg," Ethan clarified when Eveline didn't answer at first. 

Eveline shrugged and looked away. "He's okay. Annoying, but okay." Ethan had a feeling that he should consider that high praise coming from Eveline.

"Yes, he can be a bit of a handful," Ethan agreed, unable to stop himself from smiling. 

"He's not like Mom," Eveline then muttered, taking Ethan by surprise. He paused in the middle of comparing two brands of protein bars, then he put them both back and looked at Eveline.

It took a second before her words made sense, and the pieces fell into place. "Mia?" Ethan asked, just to be sure. Saying her name out loud left a sour taste in his mouth and a pit in his stomach.

Eveline nodded and bowed her head, hiding behind her long black hair. "Yeah."

"Of course, Mia was assigned as your babysitter. Heisenberg is... Just Heisenberg. They are nothing alike," it came out faster than Ethan had intended, and he quickly found himself backpedaling. Even though he had been hurt by Mia and felt betrayed and left in the dark, he still realized that his baggage concerning Mia didn't have anything to do with how Eveline felt about her.

 Mother is God in the eyes of a child, after all.

"Mia is a clever, hard-working woman. She hasn't been locked up in an outdated village for decades. And her manners are way better than Heisenberg," he continued, sticking to the facts. It was easier to keep his own impression out of the equation that way.

"I know. I'm not stupid. I didn't mean it like that." Eveline dismissed, her voice tight, like she was struggling to get the words out.

Ethan waited, trying his best to give her the time she needed. The silence stretched on between them. Ethan stopped walking, causing Eveline to stop as well. She looked away, focusing on a display showcasing a wide variety of jams.

"Then how did you mean it?" Ethan gently asked, hoping his prompt would help Eveline find the right words and get them out. It was something his therapist often did when Ethan got stuck on a difficult subject. Sometimes it felt like a lifeline.

"He's not afraid of me," she stated, pushing the words out between clenched teeth. 

The way Eveline's shoulders hiked towards her ears and her grip turned tight left Ethan with the impression that there was more to Mia's role as caretaker and her time with the Connections than he was aware of. The sight tore at Ethan's heart. His body reacted before his mind could stop him. Letting go of the shopping cart, he pulled Eveline into a hug. Just like the first time, Eveline tensed, but she didn't push him away, so Ethan stayed put. He stroked her long hair and placed a gentle kiss on top of her head.

"Mom is scared of me. She pretends not to be, but I could see it. I think she hates me," Eveline muttered, and buried her face in Ethan's dirty jacket.

"What happened between you and  Mia was horrible, and I don't think Mia is ever going to forget that. People tend to be scared of what they don't understand," Ethan said, struggling to find the right words, torn between wanting to comfort Eveline without neglecting the horrors he'd witnessed in Louisiana and the terrible things Eveline had put them through. "And sometimes people only see what they have been taught to see, so they miss everything else. What happened in Dulvey was horrible for Mia, but I think it was just as horrible for you, too," he whispered, and hugged her tighter, when she nodded and pressed herself harder against him, clinging to him, like her life depended on it. He ignored the curious look they got from an elderly couple, who quickly turned around to avoid passing by them.

"We're all trying to do better, be better than we were," Ethan assured her and leaned back a bit to catch a glimpse of her face. Eveline reluctantly looked up, looking just about ready to flee or yell at him. Ethan cupped her face with his good hand, "including you. I know that, and Heisenberg knows that. We're not scared of you and we don't hate you. But we need to be better towards each other. We're in the same boat, after all," he continued and offered her a soft smile. Eveline hesitantly returned it, just a tiny lift of the corner of her lips, but it was there. And that was enough for Ethan.

"Come on," he said and patted her back gently, encouraging her to let go of him, "help me find some clean clothes for me and Heisenberg."

Ethan led Eveline to the bargain bins and the scrambled assortments, where he'd spotted the clothes the last time they were there. Eveline hesitated for a moment, picking through the bins, while she still had an arm around Ethan's, like she was scared he would disappear if she didn't. When he didn't move away, the tension slowly bled out from Eveline's features, and she looked more at ease. Before long, she dug through the mess of clothing that had been carelessly thrown into the bin with both hands. Ethan joined her, grateful for the distraction and the opportunity to slip into the well-known pattern of solving problems and moving forward. The selection wasn't great. Most of the clothing was either colorful floral patterns or tacky punchlines. But beggars couldn't be choosers, he supposed. Eveline, on the other hand, found great enjoyment in the selection. Ethan suspected that she had made a game out of finding the most ridiculous clothing and offering them to Ethan as suggestions.

"What about this one for Karl?" she suggested and held up a pink t-shirt with curly letters that read 'Need My Beauty Sleep'. It was so short, Ethan doubted it would even cover half of Heisenberg's chest. The wicked gleam in Eveline's eyes told him that she had reached the same conclusion.

"No. Absolutely not. Try again," he rolled his eyes, but he didn't manage to keep the humor out of his voice. Eveline snickered and tossed the t-shirt back into the pile. When her next item was a tight-fitting top in leopard print, Ethan knew she wouldn't be of much help.

In the end, Ethan decided on an army green t-shirt for Heisenberg, which seemed to be in his size, along with a pair of black sweatpants. He found himself a black t-shirt, matching sweatpants, and a simple hoodie. As a compromise, Eveline was allowed to pick out a pair of socks for each of them. She picked a pair of black socks for Ethan with a rainbow stripe around the top, and a pair of grey socks for Heisenberg with a picture of a cactus and the text "Not a Hugger". Compared to the leopard-top, Ethan thought he'd done some pretty good damage control. 

Adding the clothes into their shopping cart, Ethan and Eveline headed for the checkout.  Their little trip put a huge dent in their lei deposit, but it was a necessary evil if they wanted to cross the border without getting caught as potential threats. 

---

When they returned to the parking lot, Heisenberg had gotten out of the car and was leaning against the side of it, with his arms crossed. He had his head tipped back, facing the sun, like he was enjoying the subtle warmth it provided, although it wasn't enough to chase away the cold. He had left his hat behind, but kept his shades on.  He looked deep in thought, his lips pressed together in a thoughtful expression, and his nose wrinkled slightly, like he'd run into a problem that wasn't easily solvable. Without the dirt and grime covering his face, he looked surprisingly good. 

Ethan's smile fell, and he cursed himself internally for even thinking that. It was just a conditioned response provided by his body. After all, being physically near Heisenberg had offered release, either sexual or emotional the past few days. That was all there was to it. 

"Did you get everything you need?" Heisenberg asked without turning his head to look at Ethan.

"Yes, we should be all set for crossing the border today," Ethan replied and gestured for Eveline to open the trunk and put away their stuff. 

Heisenberg only hummed in response, which immediately ticked Ethan off, making him suspicious. He was being way too quiet and compliant. But before Ethan could open his mouth, Heisenberg beat him to it.

"What's that over there?" he asked and nodded towards the store. 

Ethan followed the gesture. He looked towards the facade of the building, where a couple stood side by side, chatting. When they walked away, they revealed an ATM hanging on the wall. Ethan narrowed his eyes and looked back at Heisenberg, catching the man looking at him with a confident smirk.

"That's an ATM. People use that to withdraw money. But that requires a bank account, money in said bank account, and a credit card, and we have none of that," Ethan snapped, not liking the look on Heisenberg's face one bit.

Heisenberg only hummed, his lips lifting in a grin that had Ethan's insides flutter. 

"It's magnetic," he purred, and just like that, Ethan felt the air around them shift in a way he'd come to associate with Heisenberg using his powers. "I can feel the metal moving behind the wall and the electricity humming."

Ethan pressed close to him, angling his body so Rose was facing away from him, while Ethan still could get up in his personal space. "We're trying to keep it low-profile," he reminded Heisenberg, keeping his voice down but his tone sharp.

Heisenberg huffed, glancing down at Rose, before he tugged away the accessories around his neck. Ethan did his best to ignore the gesture.

"Do you really have so little faith in me?" Heisenberg's voice was dangerously low and serious, without any trace of his usual showmanship or booming announcement. It was a simple, raw question that had Ethan pull back for a moment before he regained his posture. 

"I trust you as far as I can throw you," Ethan hissed and stabbed Heisenberg in his chest with his finger, in an attempt to cover up the obvious lie. 

He trusted Heisenberg. At first, the trust had been fragile and reluctant, but it had been the only way to ensure Rose's safety. It hadn't been about trust, but about convenience and what Ethan stood to gain from it. And somewhere along the line, trust evolved. Like Ethan trusting Heisenberg to keep Rose safe while they were driving. And Ethan being comfortable enough to turn his back on Heisenberg at night, trusting that he wouldn't kill him in his sleep. He trusted Heisenberg more than he cared to admit, but it wasn't enough to drown out the worry and the constant worst-case scenarios flooding his mind.

Heisenberg narrowed his eyes, and before Ethan had a chance to react, the former lord fisted his hands in Ethan's shirt, turning their positions and pushing him against the car, crowding him with his body. Ethan felt the man's breath ghost across his lips, and his heart skipped a beat. 

"I might be from a different time, Winters, but I'm not stupid," he hissed, and Ethan really wished he wasn't still holding his daughter, that they weren't in the middle of a public space, "but some things never change. Money still makes the world go round, and right now..." he trailed off, reaching out with his powers as he did. The hair on Ethan's arms stood up, as a flow of tiny cold pinpricks surged across his skin, alive and electric like champagne bubbles on the side of a glass.
"... We're in dire need of some cash. So why don't you step back, Papa, and let me handle this?"

He released his hold on Ethan, but he didn't step away.  He fixed Ethan with a hard glare, daring him to protest, and a part of Ethan really, really wanted to. A part of him wanted to pick a fight. He wanted to get Heisenberg to push him back against the car. He wanted the man's knee pressed between his thighs, and his teeth buried in the nape of his neck. He wanted to protest, tell Heisenberg to fuck off. And he wanted to tell him to be careful and that he appreciated the thought, even though it sent his anxiety surging through the roof. Ethan wanted to say a lot of things, but no matter how hard he tried,  he couldn't get the words past his lips. 

"I'm leaving your ass here if the alarm goes off," he hissed at Heisenberg, seeking refuge in the anger and their known dance of push and pull. Heisenberg's brows shot up toward his hairline, and his mouth stretched into a thin line as tension coiled around his body briefly, before Heisenberg exhaled and his lips lifted into a cocksure grin.

He chuckled, the sound coming from deep within his chest. Ethan wanted to lean closer to feel the sound rippling through his frame. He stayed put, holding Rose closer to his chest, to cut himself off from doing something stupid and sentimental. He needed to stick with the anger. It was the safest bet.

Heisenberg reached up and lowered his glasses, looking at Ethan over the dark rim. "Sure you do, Papa," he drawled, like it was no big deal at all, and then winked. Ethan didn't buy it, not even for a second. He looked away when Rose's breath hitched, and her cheeks started reddening, like she could sense the tension in the air. Ethan gently bounced her in his arms,

Heisenberg pulled back and rubbed his hands down Ethan's front, smoothing out the wrinkles in his jacket. He even went as far as brushing his fingers against Rose's arms. He stepped back and swirled his hand dramatically in the air, and the car started up. Ethan gritted his teeth.

"All ready in case you need it," Heisenberg's voice was thick with mock flirtation, making Ethan blush.

Damn Heisenberg for calling him out on his bluff. Because he had been bluffing, there was no way he would just leave Heisenberg behind, and they both knew that. But Ethan would have appreciated it if Heisenberg hadn't been so damn smug about it. 

"Watch out for cameras," Ethan said, dropping his gaze to the ground. He didn't need to look at Heisenberg to know that he was grinning. He could hear it in his voice.

"Oh, so you do care," he drawled, his voice laced with velvet and residual anger, "but don't worry about it, Papa. I have it covered."

And then he left, his footfalls heavy on the asphalt. Ethan looked up and followed him with his gaze, watching as Heisenberg crossed the parking lot with lazy steps, like he had all the time in the world. Ethan's stomach clenched and his throat closed up when Heisenberg paused in front of the ATM.

"Get in the car, Evie," he ordered, and opened the door for her, handing her Rose. 

Eveline scrunched her nose, but didn't protest as she took Rose and placed her on her lap. "What is Karl doing?" She asked as Ethan moved around the car and slipped into the driver's seat. With both arms around Rose's middle, Eveline leaned forward to get a better look out the windshield.

"Something risky," Ethan whispered, like that would make a difference. 

Keeping one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on the gearshift, Ethan waited in anticipation, every muscle in his body coiled tight and ready to snap. He watched as Heisenberg reached out and pressed his palm flat against the keyboard. The screen flickered briefly. Ethan held his breath. He could almost hear the sirens coming for them, see the flashes of red and blue. He could hear the warnings being called, telling them to drop to the ground. It all flashed before his mind's eye, making him tense his jaw and grit his teeth together. He felt like throwing up.

The seconds ticked by torturously slow, like the whole world was holding its breath. Or maybe it was just Ethan. He felt cold and hot all over, his skin clammy with nervous sweat. He squeezed the steering wheel harder to keep his hands from trembling. Logic screamed at him to hit the gas pedal to get out of there before it was too late, before they were caught and shipped off to a lab somewhere to be tested on, no longer counting as humans in the eyes of the likes of Chris Redfield and the BSAA. But no matter the horrific what-if scenarios his mind played on repeat, Ethan couldn't get his body to obey. He couldn't leave Heisenberg behind. So he waited. He glanced up at the rear-view mirror, seeing the way Eveline bounced her knees up and down to make Rose giggle, while she allowed the little one to play and tug at her fingers. 

"Oh, he's coming back," Eveline pointed out, and Ethan snapped his attention back to Heisenberg as he left the ATM. Heisenberg crossed the parking spot, walking with a proud gait and a straight back. He folded several bills and stuffed them in his pocket. He grinned when he caught sight of Ethan staring at him and tilted his shades down to wink at the father as he rounded the car.

"Pompous asshole. " Ethan blushed furiously, embers smoldering in the pit of his stomach, trying his best to forget the mesmerizing way Heisenberg carried himself. So sure of himself, even though he was a fish out of water. Ethan couldn't help but wonder, just how much of it was bullshit. 

The door opened, and Heisenberg got into the car, looking like the cat that got the cream. He leaned forward towards Ethan as he buckled his seatbelt. 

Ethan gritted his teeth and glared out the windshield. Heisenberg inhaled, like he was about to say something, but Ethan cut him off, holding up a finger in warning.

"Not a fucking word," he hissed, ignoring the way he had to suppress the urge to smile, when Heisenberg shrugged and leaned back in his seat and patted Ethan's thigh without a word. 

Chapter Text

By a combination of sheer luck, street signs, and kind locals, Ethan managed to find the border crossing. He'd gotten lost more than once, and much to Heisenberg's dislike, he had opted to ask the locals for directions. Heisenberg had loudly voiced that it was unnecessary. He argued, loudly, that they just needed to keep moving west and then something was bound to pop up. Heisenberg had been so against the idea of asking the locals for directions that he refused to act as a translator, leaving Ethan with no choice but to switch between his broken Romanian and English. A grown man with grey in his beard had given up on Ethan and left, mumbling something that Ethan hadn't caught. But a young teenager had risen to the challenge, his English as broken as Ethan's Romanian. But with patience, a huge amount of gesticulation, and even a rushed drawing in the dirt, Ethan managed to convey his question, and the teenage boy managed to nudge him in the right direction. 

Ethan had tried not to look too smug once he got back into the car. He failed, but he was merciful enough not to rub it in. He had a feeling Heisenberg would cut the engine if he did. So Ethan kept his mouth shut, but the smile stayed on his lips as he got the car moving again and they headed towards the border.

Along the way, Ethan had them all clean up at a rest stop, where he and Heisenberg changed into their new, clean clothes. Heisenberg switched the license plate on the car per Ethan's request. Despite the constant worry and the nagging voice in the back of his mind, telling him that it was a bad idea, Ethan still got rid of the gun. He didn't want to risk setting off any alarms when crossing the border. Heisenberg hadn't been happy with him, but he had stopped his complaining when Ethan had told him that he wouldn't need a gun, because he had him by his side, and he was just as capable of sending metal flying at a lethal speed as any gun. Something had flashed across Heisenberg's features, too quick for Ethan to decipher completely, but he hadn't missed the soft edge before Heisenberg had schooled his expression back to indifference. But Ethan had seen it.

"Okay," Ethan breathed out when they passed yet another sign letting them know that the border was coming up, "okay. We're almost there. Remember, we're just a normal family returning home after a nice and uneventful trip to Romania. Plain and simple." He forced himself to slowly exhale and willed his fingers to loosen their death grip on the steering wheel. They'd gone over their cover story several times already, and everyone knew their role and how to play it.

Heisenberg leaned back in his seat and looked at Ethan. "Relax, Winters. It'll be fine," he said, sounding just as convincing as he had when he told Ethan to 'just get his ass across the bridge' back at his factory. 

"You don't know that," Ethan muttered while he scanned their surroundings, half expecting to see military vehicles and SWAT teams guarding the border. But all he saw was a big blue sign telling him the speed limit for Hungary. Ethan made a mental note to follow them to the T. 

"I know you need to fucking relax," Heisenberg shot back, giving Ethan a sharp look, before his gaze returned to the windshield. He licked his lips and closed his eyes for a moment. Ethan held his breath when he felt the air shift and the hair on his arms stand up. "The border is up ahead. A small set-up, one building, two toll gates. Four cars. Two guns," Heisenberg said and opened his eyes, "Just a normal border control. No ambush, no BSAA or SWAT teams waiting for us."

Ethan's eyes widened, and he snapped his attention to Heisenberg, taken aback by how on point Heisenberg's observation was. Like Ethan had been broadcasting his negative thought spiral to the former lord. "How did you--"

Heisenberg cut him off with a brash laugh, "Know that you're worrying yourself sick? It's written all over your face, Papa. You look like you're about to shit yourself. Honestly it's hard to imagine how you ever had the balls to kill Miranda" he chuckled and glanced at Ethan, a smug smile on his face as he took off his hat and dropped it in the back. Eveline knew better than to pick it up and try it on. He ran a hand through his newly washed grey hair, and Ethan briefly cursed himself for wondering what it would feel like to mirror the motion. Would it be soft? Coarse? 

"This is different," Ethan argued, forcing his attention back to the conversation at hand. Heisenberg's taunting did nothing to ease the tight knot of anxiety in his stomach.

"It is," Heisenberg agreed, which was enough to make Ethan look at him. Heisenberg smirked and pushed his glasses up on top of his head, making him look even more approachable. Just like they had planned.  "There's no monster here. No big bad guy, just humans doing their job. We're nothing to them. Just a footnote in their boring day," he said, his voice slipping into that loud showman tone, and he ended the whole thing with a crude laugh, as he glanced at Ethan.

"So stop worrying. And get into character, Liebling." He purred the last part and reached for Ethan's knee, rubbing his thumb across the soft fabric, making Ethan painfully aware that he had ditched the gloves as well. All laid bare, no layers to hide behind. All because Ethan had asked him to.

As they drove closer, Ethan's attention was split between watching the toll gates coming closer and registering every micro movement of Heisenberg's fingers against his knee. As per Ethan's plan, Heisenberg was spinning a story about growing up in Romania with his siblings, designed to back up their story in case the military or the BSAA were listening in. Logically, Ethan knew he was overthinking things, but he didn't dare stop. So he listened to Heisenberg telling a story about Donna placing creepy dolls all over the house as payback because Heisenberg had kicked her favorite doll. Ethan wondered if he was just making shit up, or if he was adjusting something that had actually happened and left behind all the gory and unusual parts.

Heisenberg continued, this time telling them about how his Mother--he actually managed to keep the sneer out of his voice-- had been very strict, and didn't let them out much, which only backfired and caused what Heisenberg referred to as his rebellious era. He gestured wildly as he spoke, telling the story not only with words but with his whole body. The only thing holding him back was Rose. Even at the story's climax, he cradled her in a secure grip, grinning down at her from time to time, like he was telling the story to her specifically.

Ethan tuned out the rest of the story as they rolled up to the toll gate. The gate was down, and in the small structure next to it, sat a bored-looking man, watching them through the glass screen. Outside, two armed officers were talking together, looking relaxed and at ease. Rolling the window down, Ethan handed their passports to the officer, who took them all and flipped through them. The officer looked up from the passports and asked something. Ethan saw his lips move and heard the sounds individually, but his brain didn't register any words. 

But he should. He had been asked a question, and he should be able to answer; otherwise, it would look suspicious. The man repeated the question, but the words continued to be a mystery. He opened his mouth, searching his brain for all the Romanian phrases he knew, but his throat closed up, as panic settled in. This was it! They had been discovered! They would have to fight their way out of it. If only he could unbuckle his seatbelt fast enough while he reached for Rose, maybe then he would have a chance to shield her with his body from the incoming bullet rain.  

The hand on his knee dug further into his skin as Heisenberg leaned into his space to peer out of the window. He chuckled warmly and spoke with a calm, teasing tone, grinning at Ethan before he looked back at the officer. The words rolled flawlessly off his tongue, and the gleam in his eye made Ethan's chest flutter. Heisenberg laughed again, and this time the officer laughed with him as he handed back the passports.  

Ethan muttered “thank you” in English and took the offered passports. The officer grinned at him and gestured for him to move along. Ethan didn't hesitate. As soon as the toll gate opened, Ethan rolled through and held his breath. He waited for the officer to change his mind, to hear the wailing sound of sirens, but nothing happened.

"What did he say?" Ethan asked when he finally got his throat working again.

Heisenberg snorted and tilted his head to look at Ethan, with a wicked look in his eyes that had Ethan's cheeks heat up. Why did the former lord have to clean up so nicely? 

"He asked you where we were heading," Heisenberg translated, "and when you didn't answer, I took the liberty of answering for you, as well as explaining why you had frozen up on him."

Ethan remembered the shared laugh and narrowed his eyes as he briefly glanced at Heisenberg. "What did you say to him?"

Another barked out laugh, which made Rose whip her head up at Heisenberg in surprise, eyes wide and mouth open, like she was trying to make sense of the new sound. 

"I told them you had never seen a gun before and were easily scared," Heisenberg told him, his words taking on a teasing edge, as his lips stretched into a smile, underlining the fact that they both knew how absurd that excuse was, "he agreed that you looked like quite the scaredy cat"

A beat passed, then two, before Ethan couldn't hold back his laughter anymore. His shoulders shook as laughter bubbled up inside of him. He laughed until his stomach hurt and his eyes watered, forcing him to pull over until he had himself back under control. Heisenberg joined in. The sound of both of them laughing felt refreshing, bordering on cathartic, like all the fear and worry he'd been bottling up was suddenly released all at once, making Ethan feel lighter. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the steering wheel, trying to catch his breath. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed like that.

"That's the dumbest thing I've heard you say so far," he muttered, residual laughter still clinging to his voice.

"It worked," Heisenberg started matter-of-factly, a genuine smile on his face. It suited him.

Ethan chuckled and shook his head, feeling some of the tension finally leaving his body. He glanced up in the rear-view mirror just in time to see Eveline shake her head as she flipped to a new page in her journal. She was going through it fast, and they might have to look for a replacement soon.

"So what now?" Heisenberg asked casually, but Ethan had paid enough attention to the man to catch the underlying unease, lurking just beneath the laissez-faire attitude. 

Ethan's throat worked as he tried to put hours of constant worrying and planning into words. "First, we need to get rid of the car, since it can tie us back to Romania. Then we'll catch a train in Szeged and continue north." It sounded so simple when it was spoken out loud, stripped of the countless what-if interjections. 

Heisenberg snorted and tilted his head to look at Ethan with a smug grin. "Sounds like you got it all figured out, Papa." 

Ethan really hadn't. He was just good at pretending.

---

It took them less than an hour to reach Szeged, where they ditched the car. And by ditched, it meant Heisenberg pulled the car completely apart until it was nothing more than scrap metal. Ethan noticed how the former lord pocketed a few pieces of metal for himself, but he didn't call him out on it.  It was strange how Ethan wasn't even worried or bothered by the sharp object stashed away on Heisenberg's person, even though he knew what kind of damage the engineer was able to do with just that. But Ethan trusted him. He knew that Heisenberg wouldn't hurt him or the girls. Had he wanted to do that, he would have done it already. Besides, Heisenberg looked more comfortable now that he had his pockets filled with potential ammunition. But it still wasn't enough to ease the tension from his shoulders, or make him stop grinding his teeth, while his gaze darted around frantically, reacting to things, Ethan was sure only he could feel. Gone was the calm, collected attitude he'd boasted at the border, replaced by tension and nerves. 

Ethan didn't blame him. Even without Heisenberg's powers, Ethan felt overwhelmed by the city; the many people walking too close, and the cars honking their horns too loudly. He didn't know what made him do it, but before Ethan could stop himself, he'd placed a hand against Heisenberg's lower back and used it to guide him forward, through the vast mass of people. Heisenberg tensed under his touch, but he didn't pull away, so neither did Ethan.

"Come on. This way," he muttered under his breath, pretending nothing was out of the ordinary, even though he was painfully aware of the heat soaking through Heisenberg's many layers, as he guided them through the streets of Szeged.

On their way to the train station, Ethan stopped at a small electronic store, where the employee working there luckily understood and spoke enough English for Ethan to purchase a phone and a data plan. Heisenberg waited outside with Rose, who seemed to have become his go-to excuse whenever he wanted to avoid something. Ethan didn't call him out on it. He didn't need to, they both knew that Ethan saw right through Heisenberg's bullshit. But they could still pretend otherwise. Just like they pretended that Ethan didn't automatically place his hand on Heisenberg's lower back when they started walking again, and Heisenberg leaned into the touch with a deep exhale. It was better that way. Less complicated.

When they arrived at the train station, Ethan felt Heisenberg shift beside him, and from his position, Ethan could see how his eyes widened behind his glasses. The train station was a huge yellow-brick building that looked more like the outside of a castle than a train station. Two towers with copper roofs framed the entryway.  In front of the large building, trams glided effortlessly by. Ethan felt the hairs on his arms stand, making him narrow his eyes.

"Don't do that here. There's too much stuff," Ethan warned, initially worrying about Heisenberg getting overwhelmed by the sheer information overload that would be broadcast to him. But there was also the question of the obscene amount of electronics around them. Ethan feared that Heisenberg's magnetic field would disrupt or destroy people's phones, leaving behind a patchy trail of electronic cold spots for the BSAA to follow.

Heisenberg huffed, giving no other verbal response, but Ethan felt the tension in the air lift anyway. As they moved toward the dark-green double doors leading into the train station, Heisenberg glanced at the trams over his shoulder.

"It sure would have sped up the construction process tremendously if I'd had one of those running between the factory and the graveyard," he chuckled, his poor attempt at a joke made Ethan groan. When he glanced at Heisenberg, the man was grinning at him, all teeth and charm. 

Ethan huffed and rolled his eyes. "You're the worst."

Heisenberg's smile widened, making Ethan's insides twist and his cheeks feel warm. "That's why you married me, buttercup."

"I'm starting to regret that," he said, but he couldn't keep the fondness out of his voice, and his attempt to fake annoyance failed miserably if Heisenberg's chuckle was anything to go by.  He reached back for Ethan's arm and tugged at it, until it was draped around his waist, bringing them even closer together. Heisenberg placed his own hand dangerously close to Ethan's ass, his thumb digging under the hem of the hoodie.

Ethan's breath hitched, and a warm blush spread across his cheeks.  He tried to push away from Heisenberg, but the engineer tightened his grip, keeping Ethan firmly in place. Not wanting to cause a scene, Ethan cursed under his breath and stopped fighting.

"There you go, Papa. Just accept it," Heisenberg drawled, sounding way too pleased with himself. Ethan didn't reward him with an answer. Instead, he focused on keeping track of Eveline as they made their way through the double doors and into the huge building.

Just like every other part of the city, the train station buzzed with life, people rushing back and forth, talking loudly to each other or into cellphones. Above them, loudspeakers announced the departure and arrival of trains in a monotone robotic voice. 

Ethan paused in front of a huge screen that displayed arrivals and departures of the trains. He tried to make sense of the strangely spelled names. Heisenberg paused beside him and tilted his head back to look at the screen. His eyes narrowed briefly, and Ethan imagined he was fighting back the urge to use his powers to get a better feel of the big screen. It didn't take much to imagine the whole screen flickering with static, disturbing the many pixels, like someone had brought a magnet too close to the screen. 

"So far so good," Ethan mumbled and took out his newly acquired phone and started typing out the names displayed on the large screen to get a better idea of where they should head next. "I think our best bet is finding a train to Germany."

Heisenberg made a sound of affirmation beside him as he readjusted the duffel bag. "With our surnames, it would make the most sense," he agreed, making Ethan smile, without fully realizing why. 

Ethan sighed as he continued to research the names on the screen, hoping to come up with something useful soon. His hand left Heisenberg's lower back as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. So far, the closest thing he'd found was a train heading to Vienna. It was no Germany, but it was a start. 

"Over here, stranger," a raspy voice sounded, so close, like the person speaking was standing right behind him. Ethan's head snapped up, the hair at the back of his neck standing up as he looked around. But there was no one there.

"Did you also…?" Ethan glanced up at Heisenberg, who tensed beside him. 

"Yeah, I felt it too," Heisenberg answered, voice tight as he slowly looked around, unfolding his magnetic field. He placed a hand in his pocket, undoubtedly thumbing the scrap metal, ready to send it flying if push came to shove.

Ethan reached for Eveline and closed his remaining fingers around her wrist, guiding her to stand between them, shielding her with his body. Eveline did as she was told, her dark eyes darting around in a far more obvious manner than Ethan and Heisenberg.

"Got him," Heisenberg finally said, "left side of the station," he instructed in a tense snarl. Both looked in that direction, and Ethan managed to catch a glimpse of a hooded figure before it disappeared behind two large columns that reached all the way to the ceiling.

"What's the game plan, Papa?" Heisenberg kept his gaze locked on the spot where the stranger had slipped out of sight.

"Let's take a closer look," Ethan muttered. Best case scenario, it was just a drunk mumbling nonsense, and they had nothing to worry about. Worst-case scenario, it was another bioweapon or an evil resident that had followed them from the village. Then they were fucked.

It turned out to be neither. With Eveline tucked safely behind them, Ethan and Heisenberg approached the columns, slowly walking between them. And there, slightly to the left, stood a man, tucked tightly into the corner. Ethan hesitantly moved closer, wrinkling his nose as he did. The corner smelled of piss and booze, unlike the rest of the station, leaving Ethan with the impression that this was where people went if they wanted to be left alone. The stranger wore a dark, worn cloak, and a purple bandana obscured most of his face. He was hunched over, weighed down by a heavy-looking backpack. He glanced between Heisenberg and Ethan, his eyes lighting up, showing the crow's feet around the edges.

"Got something that might interest ya," a low cackle followed his words as he opened up his worn duster, revealing an array of different items. Bullets, handguns, first aid meds, and several different maps. "I got a selection of good things on sale, stranger," he laughed again, his voice rough and gravelly, like he'd been smoking a pack a day for the last twenty years.

Ethan's eyes widened, he suddenly felt like he was back in the village buying bullets and bombs like other people bought vegetables; like it was the most natural thing in the world. He looked around, but no one even as much as glanced in their direction. The stranger laughed again, his whole frame rattling, causing a cascade of sound from the many items attached to his person.

"Relax, stranger. No one here but your merry little band of misfits pays enough attention to notice me," he said and swayed from side to side, his attention shifting between Heisenberg and Ethan.

"Who are you?" Heisenberg demanded to know, his tone harsh and cold like steel. The hairs at the back of Ethan's neck rose, and a scent of ozone cut through the stench of piss.

The stranger eyed him up and down, moving slowly and deliberately. "Just a merchant."

Heisenberg huffed and glared at him. "I've heard that one before. "

The merchant laughed again, a loud and deep sound, but none of the passing people took notice of him. "And I've heard of you, and the lad here," he said, and turned to Ethan. "My associate told me you might come this way, and here you are."

"You know the Duke?" Ethan blurted out, before he had a chance to stop himself. Information was power, and he'd just offered some up willingly. Clearly, the stranger shared that view.

"I don't give information for free, stranger," the merchant said, but the look in his eye told Ethan everything he needed to know. He clapped his hands together and rubbed them with glee. "Let's do some business then, ey?"

Ethan and Heisenberg eyed each other for a moment. Heisenberg shook his head lightly, which didn't surprise Ethan. The former lord hadn't been a fan of the Duke, despite the Duke helping them on multiple occasions. For the right price, of course. Maybe this guy was the same.

"We need a way north. To Germany," he clarified, ignoring the way Heisenberg groaned and threw his head back, like Ethan was making the biggest mistake of his life. 

The merchant tilted his head and glanced from Ethan to Heisenberg and then back to Ethan. "What's in Germany?" he asked. Clearly, he thought his rule about not giving information away for free didn't apply to him. Or maybe he was just pushing boundaries, testing how much he could cash in before Ethan put his foot down.

Ethan didn't answer, making the merchant chuckle. Wrinkles formed around his eyes like he was grinning behind the bandanna covering his mouth. 

"Well then," he drawled and reached inside his coat, digging through its many hidden pockets, "I think I have a pretty good idea what there could be in Germany."  He pulled out a dirty brown envelope and handed it to Ethan.

"Careful," Heisenberg hissed under his breath, as he closed his fingers around Eveline’s arm and pulled the girl away from Ethan and behind Heisenberg's frame. 

Ethan hesitated for just a moment before he opened the offered envelope and pulled out its contents. Train tickets and a planned route, leading them through Europe, with the final stop being Hamburg in the northern part of Germany. Ethan looked at the train tickets one by one, narrowing his eyes when he noticed that they had been bought in his fake name. If there had been any doubt about the strange man being connected to the Duke, it was gone now. Behind the tickets were photos of a small red-brick house with two stories, a low privet hedge and a swing in the front yard.

"What's this? " Ethan asked and turned the photo over in his hands. Beside him, Heisenberg leaned closer to get a better look.

"That Mr. Winters," the merchant said, amusement and veiled knowledge evident in his voice, "is whatever you want it to be. It used to be an old safe house, but it has the potential to become something more. For the right price, of course." Another deep chuckle that should have caused several heads to turn, but just like before, none paid them any mind.

"Of course," Ethan echoed, licking his lips as he studied the photos. 

Whatever he wanted it to be. What did Ethan want it to be? Wasn't that just the question of the century? What did Ethan want? He looked at the neat hedge and the windows, trying to picture himself moving around inside, with Rose on his arm and Eveline sitting at the dinner table coloring in her book, or maybe she would be outside on the swing? Or in her own room? Where would Heisenberg be? Somewhere else in the house, or would he be leaning over Rose to get to Ethan, grinning at him while he whispered an inappropriate innuendo that wasn't suited for young ears? Or would he be outside collecting metal junk in their yard, which they would need to have a conversation about at some point? He tried picturing the scene without the former lord in it, but it seemed off, twisted somehow. Like someone had changed the color settings of the TV. 

"So," the merchant drawled and held out his hand, "do we have a deal Mr. Winters?"

Ethan swallowed hard. No matter how he looked at it, no matter where he pictured them, the underlying point was the same: he wanted them all together. At home. Their home. And this could be it.

He ignored Heisenberg's warning as he reached out and shook the merchant's hand, accepting his deal, far more easily than the last deal he made.