Chapter Text
Finding himself hiding in the nearest bathroom after the latest development in his questionable relationship with Heisenberg is becoming pretty familiar to Ethan at this point. Doing so in order to enjoy a nice, hot shower in the aftermath of seriously amazing sex, though—that makes for a refreshing twist on the formula.
Goddamn. He feels like a teenager discovering sex all over again. Those noises Heisenberg made while Ethan was inside him, the amazing heat of that huge body, clenching around him and under him... God, they'd barely made eye contact while Ethan was pounding into him. How the hell did that make it hotter, just watching Heisenberg lie back and take it?
He's so used to the prickly feeling of being watched whenever Heisenberg's around—studied like some specimen, scrutinised and seen in ways he wasn't ready for—and it's not like that feeling is anything new. Ethan couldn't count all the men he's met over the years who've made him feel small: men who were bigger or tougher than him, and wanted the world to know it. Assholes who want him to know he was born with 'beta-male' tattooed across his forehead, silently laughing at him from every corner of the room. Or bastards like Chris, who treat him like he's not even worth acknowledging when shit gets real. He knows Heisenberg had him picked from moment one: an easy target, all that repressed male lust ready to overflow at the least provocation.
Fuck, maybe that's what they were all seeing in him, all along. Maybe that's why they were able to get to him the way they did.
Ethan's not the kind of guy who gets invited to be on top, and certainly not to top a powerhouse like Heisenberg. It had to be some kind of trap, right? Just the stage for his own humiliation. Heisenberg would give him his chance to prove himself, spread his legs, then watch and laugh as Ethan worked himself helplessly to completion against the immovable object of a superior body, his mediocre strength and barely-average-sized equipment making no impression at all. And once Ethan was good and spent, Heisenberg would just roll him over and show him how a real man fucks...
...honestly, now that he's really acknowledging the image? Maybe Ethan would have to admit he'd still have been into it. It sure didn't stop him saying yes.
But what Ethan actually got wasn't Heisenberg lying back and letting him embarrass himself. Heisenberg wanted it, had thrown his head back and savoured every moment Ethan was inside him. He'd invited Ethan to fuck him because he knew he'd found his match.
Maybe being seen isn't so bad after all. His dick sure doesn't think so, anyway, considering that just standing in the shower thinking about all this has it back at half-mast again already.
Ethan flicks it a skeptical look. "Jesus, really?" he mutters. For fuck's sake, that was his third orgasm in under twelve hours, what's it trying to do to him? After days on constant lookout for any new bodily function that might be worthy of a freak out, what's he to do with this development but laugh? If all that second infection has actually done is give him back the libido of a teenager, well—that, he can probably live with.
Only a couple of days ago, the thought that he could be mutating into something he wouldn't recognise ranked first and foremost among his fears. Learning you're the unwilling sperm donor to a man-eating nightmare-baby really puts all your other problems in perspective. But that's one problem Ethan's far from ready to return to just yet.
Reaching for the soap, Ethan finds himself hesitating, studying the back of his left hand under the spray. For all the progress he made today, he's not quite out of secrets, is he? Not until he's ready to admit out loud that he's learning how to shapeshift into a mass of mould.
But then, coming clean about Heisenberg went surprisingly well. Maybe he should make the most of it while he's on a roll.
Probably worth doing a little more practice first though, if only to make sure he does actually remember how he made it happen yesterday. Maybe see if he can change more than a hand this time. But the shower's probably not the place for that, even if it is conveniently private. Bad enough that he's managing a walking biohazard of a body, he doesn't need to start flushing mutamycete samples straight down into the municipal drains. He's damn lucky he's at least got someone qualified to help him figure this shit out who isn't scared of him, or what he might become.
Wild sex aside, the longer they can keep Heisenberg around, the safer Ethan will feel.
A week ago, when it didn't feel like the universe was laughing at all his plans, Ethan had generally assumed Heisenberg would eventually go his own way. Chris would give up looking, or the Winters would finally leave for the States, and Heis would tip his hat to them and move on. That's nothing Ethan wants anymore. But even if they do make it out of this intact, what are their options, realistically speaking? Will Heisenberg be willing to follow him halfway across the world, and play the respectable citizen long enough to stay out of trouble? Is that even going to be possible to arrange through legal channels? Even if Chris doesn't arrest him on sight, he's going to have opinions about giving a wanted bioweapon from the bad side of Eastern Europe a green card.
And even if that all does work out, where does that leave them? The idea of trying to resume his old life with Heisenberg still living in their spare room does Ethan's head in. Wouldn't he be more comfortable with his own space? Sure, they've mostly managed it for a week or so, in between other disasters, but even if Mia and Heisenberg are both down with the arrangement, what happens on contact with civilisation? How far is Heisenberg willing to follow him? Asking a mad-scientist cult-survivor to pass for normal may be a lot.
All Ethan knows for sure is that the idea of leaving Heisenberg behind has become unbearable. No-one makes rational long-term plans while blissfully post-coital—Ethan's been through enough relationships to know a honeymoon period when he's in one. But who else does Heisenberg even have, out there in the world? Doesn't he need them, too? Surely the Winters would be doing the world a favour just by keeping him from vanishing back into the underworld, or getting hired on by whatever's left of the Connections, or the latest iteration of Umbrella, or whoever else springs up to take their place...
...Jesus, listen to him! One real fuck, and here he is, standing in the shower, fantasising about convincing that mad bastard to go straight. Endorphins have a lot to answer for.
Okay. He can't just stay in the shower all day, fantasising about making an honest man out of his new boyfriend. He's got actual shit to do, starting with... wait, was that the bathroom door he just heard?
Ethan wheels around in time to see the door swing wide open. Naturally, it's only Heisenberg.
"What the-" Ethan begins, before his eyes catch up, and the realisation that Heisenberg is still stark naked briefly short-circuits his brain.
"Taking your time in here," drawls Heisenberg, eyes raking up and down Ethan's body as he leans in the doorway. "Thought I'd come see if you needed any help."
And get himself a good eyeful of Ethan, naked and wet. The impulse rises to bristle, roll his eyes, and ask Heisenberg if he can't have fifteen minutes to himself before getting back on the horse again—but that impulse gets stuck somewhere around his stomach, a little butterfly-feeling that has the side of his mouth quirking upwards instead. "Offering to scrub my back for me?"
"If that's what you need. Or we could start a little... lower down." Heisenberg's eyes settle hungrily on the semi Ethan's sporting, which has lost no enthusiasm during his brief mental foray into the future, and certainly has no complaints about the company. "Why, Ethan! Thinking about me?"
Ethan feels his face colouring, but why deny it? "Maybe."
"Oh?" Heisenberg's eyebrows quirk mischievously upwards. "Thinking of someone else, then? We can't have that." Stepping purposefully into the room, he shuts the door behind him. "Sounds like I need to remind you what you're missing out on."
Ethan can feel himself smiling. How he ever imagined he was going to be left to shower in peace, he doesn't know. There's nothing luxurious about the Winters' family bathroom; the shower cubicle doesn't feel nearly big enough for the both of them. But that only has him flashing back to that dream about being crammed into a tiny closet with Heisenberg, and... yeah, suddenly, a lack of space doesn't sound so bad at all.
Already, Heisenberg has crossed the room and is opening the shower door. Then he's stepping into the spray, pulling Ethan flush against him, body to body for a deep, passionate kiss. There's a tongue in his mouth and a hand on his ass, and his semi is (oh, yes!) pushing right up against Heisenberg's own cock. Ethan doesn't care in the least that it's still basically soft while he's raring to go again—he's already rutting against it, and for a while, the only sound, save for the soft patter of the shower, is them groaning into each other's mouths. Ethan has six feet of naked man pressed right up against him, and trying to be straight has never felt like such a waste of time.
It's Heisenberg who comes up for air first. "Nothing to say, Ethan?" he teases, working a hand between them to wrap around Ethan's cock, working it with long, slow tugs. "That's not like you."
"Jesus, keep doing that," Ethan manages. Nothing else that's happening matters, just as long as Heisenberg doesn't move away.
"This?" Heisenberg asks, dragging out his next stroke for emphasis, long and slow. "Or did you mean you want me to keep talking?"
Ethan groans into his shoulder. It's the only answer he feels capable of.
"Maybe you'd like to hear some more about just how good this pretty little thing of yours feels in my hand, hm?" Heisenberg offers.
Ethan blinks, startled for a moment by a weird sense of deja-vu, before the memory of the last time Heisenberg decided he was taking too long in the bathroom comes back to him in a rush. He laughs aloud. "You... god... still can't believe you did that."
Heisenberg's laugh is deeper. "No arguing with results, Ethan."
It's hard to disagree. Ethan came so fucking hard in there, and Heisenberg didn't even have to touch him. Most likely Heisenberg doesn't even care about one lousy sperm sample—the only 'results' that matter are what's happening here in the shower right now.
"First time I got my hands on you like this," Heisenberg purrs in his ear, "that's when I knew just how good you were going to be. How good I was going to make you feel. You fit right into my hand, Ethan. I've got you now."
Forehead resting on Heisenberg's shoulder, Ethan's capacity to contribute to this conversation is officially spent. He groans again instead.
"Hm. Not doing it for you, Ethan?" Heisenberg muses, as if he hasn't just fried Ethan's brain. "Shame. Maybe I should put this mouth of mine to another use."
It says a lot about Ethan's sex-addled state that he spends several seconds watching Heisenberg shift away and slowly drop to his knees before it dawns on him what's about to happen.
"Oh... oh fuck yes," he murmurs, and has just time to take in Heisenberg's answering grin before his cock is sliding right into that sinful mouth. "Ohh..."
Heisenberg makes a soft noise of satisfaction, eyes drifting closed as he encourages Ethan to move, thrusting lazily into his hot, wet mouth. It's so good that he's not paying any attention to the odd grip Heisenberg's got on his ass, and it stays that way until there are fingers working their way inside him, reminding him that Heisenberg is a big believer in a double-pronged attack.
But the best thing about being three orgasms deep before Heisenberg ever stepped into the shower is that, even under the combined onslaught of two fingers and an expert blowjob from a gorgeously wet and naked Heisenberg, Ethan lasts more than long enough to appreciate all of it very thoroughly. How his legs hold him up as long as they do is some kind of miracle; in the aftermath, collapsing slowly onto the shower floor is all he's good for.
The fact Heisenberg is down there already only makes it better.
If the other man was still soft when he stepped into the shower, several minutes of sucking and fingering Ethan's brain out through his cock have absolutely fixed that. Which is... well, nice to know they're working with this refractory-period-thing somewhat synchronised, he supposes.
"Couldn't help but notice," Heisenberg drawls, jacking himself slowly under Ethan's hungry gaze, "you seemed pretty keen to get your mouth on this thing earlier."
"I... yeah, kinda," Ethan admits. Maybe it's a sign of progress that denying it doesn't even enter his mind. "But gimme a break here, Heis—I'm running on empty."
Heisenberg's chuckle is entirely good-natured. "Nothing left in the tank?" he says, getting slowly to his feet. "No shame in that. Just put it in neutral, and leave all the steering to me."
Ethan's not sure what face he makes, but it makes Heisenberg grin at him. "Don't worry, Ethan: I'll still get there, with or without you. But there's always space in the front seat for you."
Looks like engine-related analogies are a big hit with this audience; is that any surprise? Shaking his head at the floor, Ethan can only smile. Then he lets Heisenberg fuck his face while he kneels on the bathroom floor, eyes closed while saliva mixes with shower water as it runs down his chin, while his cock makes a studious but ultimately failed attempt to come back for yet another round.
He splutters all over the place when Heisenberg finally comes, no grace at all. But what the fuck, they're already in the shower—a little mess just makes it all worthwhile.
By the time Ethan's made it out of the shower, back to his room to collapse for a bit, and finally into a clean set of clothes, he's still in a blissfully good mood. When he runs into Mia in the corridor, his only instinct is to beam, offer a dopey, "Hey!" and then flatten her into the nearest wall for a slow, affectionate kiss.
Mia makes a soft noise of surprise that quickly softens into pleasure as their tongues find each other. After so many years of marriage, you get out of the habit of kissing one another the way you did when it was all new and exciting—but if you're lucky, once in a while you'll remember that the beauty of marriage is that you still can, any time you fancy.
"Someone's in a good mood," Mia observes, fondly. "I take it things went well?"
"So well," Ethan agrees. "Fuuuuck, Mia—why'd you never tell me how amazing dicks are?"
Mia's laughter is music to his ears. "Really? What happens when word gets out?" she jokes. "Bad enough that I married a man; I don't need them revoking all the queer cred I've got left."
That starts him laughing too. "Is that how it works?"
"Welcome to the club, hon. It's a whole new world." Mia pats him affectionately on the shoulder. "Maybe later you can tell me all about it."
"About...?" That part takes Ethan a moment. Does she mean how it went with Heisenberg? Does she want to hear about that? Is that the expected level of communication with these things? Ethan feels suddenly a little at sea.
Sensing his confusion, Mia gives him a reassuring nudge. "I mean, if you wanna? We're all still feeling this out, y'know?"
"Sure..." Ethan manages. That sounds like a whole lot of territory to be tabled for when his brain is less fried.
"Also, not to harsh your buzz," Mia adds, in a tone that promises she is very much about to harsh his buzz, "but I did just see your boyfriend heading out to the front porch with a knife. I was coming to make sure you knew."
The incongruity of hearing Heisenberg being referred to as his boyfriend is sharp enough that Ethan takes several seconds longer than he should to register what Mia is actually trying to tell him.
"Wait..." he says, stupidly. "What?"
"...suggesting this subject may have been ingested feet first, contrary to prior presentation..."
Heisenberg hasn't just taken a knife to the front porch, he's brought a whole toolbox of implements along with him—plus Mia's phone, which he's propped up in a flowerpot, set to voice-memo mode. He looks up at Ethan's appearance, narration pausing mid-stream.
"Ah, Ethan! Come to see the show?" If sneaking out here while Ethan was still too fucked out to object was actually part of the plan, Heisenberg seems not at all displeased to be interrupted.
"Seriously?" Ethan complains. "You couldn't give me thirty minutes to put myself back together again before you're cutting up bodies on my porch?"
The body in question is lying face-up, sprawled at the same angle where it had fallen after the combined insult of being vomited onto the steps, and then roughly manhandled away from the door it was blocking as two men climbed over it in a hurry. The smell that Ethan remembers from being briefly dropped next to it last night—sickly with mould and decay—has only worsened since, and none of the memories that come rising with it in the back of his throat are pleasant.
"Au contraire, Ethan! I think you'll find I've already given you my whole morning." Heisenberg licks his lips. "And don't think I'm complaining! But our lovely specimen here isn't getting any fresher. From what your dear wife tells me, your authorities have yet to show any real interest in claiming it. While vital insights into our enemy could be rotting away on your doorstep as we speak!"
"Vital insights?" Ethan echoes. "We know what happened to him! I saw that thing throw him up out here myself!"
Heisenberg gives him a speculative look. "Not much of a scientist at heart, are you, Ethan? Well, we all have our limitations. Don't tell me you're still thinking you can tame that spawn of yours with naught but the power of love?"
"Jesus, Heisenberg..." Ethan rubs his face. Why does he feel like 'not much of a scientist' is the kind of flaw Heisenberg lists in the same category Ethan would reserve for qualities like 'smoker' or 'doesn't want kids'?
"Don't worry, though," Heisenberg grins. "I'm sure I'll find it in my heart to forgive you. In the meantime... perhaps you'll allow me to make a case for the value of knowing thy enemy?"
"Oh, for..." There's no winning this. Ethan's not even completely sure what he's arguing for anymore. "Fine. Just—try not to make too much of a mess, will you?"
Heisenberg gives him a toothy grin. "Getting to the truth is a messy business, Ethan! But if you'd rather we start by moving the body..."
"No—no, god, you-" This is the man Ethan just slept with. How the fuck is this his life? "Let's just get this over with."
Heisenberg tilts his head. "No-one's forcing you to watch, you know."
"And leave you unsupervised?" Ethan scoffs. "No way."
Heisenberg shrugs. "As you please. Now, to the task at hand... as our sole witness, any notes you'd like to record regarding the deposition of our subject into his present resting place?"
Ethan sighs. Of all the scenes he'd happily toss into the memory hole. It's a little late now to realise Heisenberg never paused his recording, and their whole conversation is being recorded for posterity.
Reluctantly, he dredges up the memory of what he saw last night. "Well... you were right about feet-first, I guess. Or at least, he came out head-first when it threw him up." And now he's retrieved that image on purpose, it's probably burned into his brain forever. "Seemed like it was having trouble with the stairs? They were digging into its stomach, or something. I think it moved faster after spitting him out?" That seems to about cover it. "And he had a name. He was John Perlman." Just because Heisenberg can look down and see only a body doesn't mean Ethan has to encourage him.
"Ve-ry interesting," drawls Heisenberg. "Alright then, John, let's see if we can't take the record back a little further!" Addressing the recording, he goes on. "Whether cause of death for our subject preceded or succeeded his ingestion is unclear from a superficial examination. Given the body is embedded with at least half a dozen metal fragments, though, I think we can assume he was already unhealthy before..."
"Metal?" Ethan interrupts. "He was shot? Or... did he have shots reflected back on him, like..." The memory of just what that was like to experience twists Ethan's stomach into an ugly knot.
"A real possibility!" Heisenberg agrees, unbothered by the interruption. "Let's find out, shall we? There are ragments embedded in multiple places, spread across his legs and torso. I think we'll start at the bottom." Catching the point of his knife in the fabric of the body's trousers, he stretches it up and away, testing the give available. "Clothing is damaged, but still maintains integrity. We're going to have to cut it off." Looking at Ethan, he says, "Pass me those scissors, would you?"
"What, am I your nurse now?" Ethan complains, though he also passes the scissors.
"Now there's an image," Heisenberg chuckles. "If you're going to watch, might as well make yourself useful!"
Ethan watches Heisenberg cut methodically through the side of both legs of John's trousers, before ripping what's left of the fabric out from under him with one sharp tug. God, you'd really think being eaten and then regurgitated by a nightmare fetus would be indignity enough, but now here the poor guy lies, forced to endure a postmortem strip-routine by a wanted criminal. Small comfort that at least this body's not about to end up with drills sewn onto his arms. He's exactly the physique Heisenberg favoured for his Soldats.
"Discolouration is equally pronounced at skin level," Heisenberg notes. "Looks like we've got one of John's new implants embedded just below the left knee." Without looking, he holds out a hand. "Pliers, if you please?"
Ethan sighs as he hands them across. At least he got a 'please.'
The chunk of metal sticking out of the man's lower leg is as blackened as the rest of him. Even with the pliers, it takes Heisenberg several seconds of real effort to pry it free. Whatever it is, it doesn't resemble any bullet Ethan's ever seen.
"Hm." Heisenberg holds his prize up to the light. "Now what does that look like to you?"
Ethan squints at it, and is about to remind Heisenberg that he's no expert on identifying random chunks of bloodied metal when something about the piece vaguely rings a bell. "Is that mine shrapnel?"
"It might just be!" Heisenberg agrees, turning it from side to side.
"Are Chris' people setting mines out in the woods now?" Ethan shakes his head in disbelief. Of all the reckless, irresponsible... but that train of thought comes to an abrupt halt as the other implications hit him. "Wait... that could be pretty clever. You can't attack the thing directly without it backfiring. So you set traps for it, keep all the damage indirect." He looks at Heisenberg. "Would that... work?"
Heisenberg shrugs. "Looks like John here might just have found out."
Ethan looks down at the body. "Sure doesn't look like it worked." Was John the one who set the mine? Or was he just too close when it went off? "If it gets hurt and no-one pulled the trigger, what happens? Does it just rebound on whoever's nearby?"
"Could be." Heisenberg muses. "Can't say we ever tested it. But that's not our only possibility. Maybe we're looking at a man who got turned around in the dark, and ran into one of his own mines."
Ethan would like to be able to say that Chris' people would know better than that, but what does he know? If a monster like that is chasing you through the woods, the panic could get to anyone.
It's a baby, Heisenberg had told them, last night, all it can do when it's hurting is let us know how much. So what happens to it if it gets hurt, and there's no-one around? Does it just lie there, screaming in pain, until someone comes along, or does it... does it somehow heal itself by reflecting damage onto people around it, demanding the care it was never offered? Is that even possible? Is Heisenberg even right in guessing it's all about letting someone know it's in pain? How much do they really know about any of this?
"So maybe it walked over a mine, and it reflected the damage back on him," says Ethan, thinking aloud. "Or maybe he was just too close when it set the mine off. Or maybe he stepped on the mine, before it was anywhere near him!" And the possibilities don't end there, he realises. "Hell, we don't even know for sure it was Chris' people who planted the mine. This doesn't tell us anything!"
"It tells us to think twice before setting any traps of our own," says Heisenberg, thoughtfully. When Ethan sighs, unimpressed, he finds himself suddenly pinned by Heisenberg's gaze. "You want easy answers, Ethan? Try religion!" Heisenberg grins. "Science is a process. And John here might have more secrets to share yet! Tray?"
Ethan obediently holds out the tray so he can drop the chunk of shrapnel into it. "No traps," Ethan says aloud. "I'm ruling that out right now."
Heisenberg studies him for a moment. "Is this your same objection from when we first discovered our lycan problem?" he asks. "Or is the lingering notion we can deal with this thing without killing it raising its head again?"
An image rises unbidden behind Ethan's eyes of the baby encountering a shrapnel mine, alone in the woods, screaming and crying as it writhes in pain. He pushes the image down and looks away. "How many reasons do we need? No traps." Heisenberg would likely have had a response to that, but looking away has the side-effect of allowing Ethan's eyes to fall on the driveway for the first time today, and what he sees there brings him up short. "...What the fuck happened to my car?!"
Heisenberg follows his gaze, and grins. "Ahh. What happened is someone ripped off a door last night to use as an improvised weapon against a lycan that was blocking his path." Heisenberg thumbs in the opposite direction. "It's lying over there, if you're curious."
Ethan looks, and spots the twisted shape of the missing car door lying in his garden bed, up against the wall. Belatedly, his memory digs up the corresponding moment. He'd been so out of it at the time it's probably an achievement that he remembers it at all. "...That's what you hit it with? Oh my god." But what other appropriately-weighty hunks of metal did Heisenberg have available in the moment? What's Ethan going to do, complain about how Heisenberg dealt with that lycan, while hauling Ethan's wounded, bleeding ass out of danger? What is there to do but laugh? "Sheesh, why not go all in and use the whole car?"
"A whole car, for a single lycan?" Heisenberg grins. "Seems excessive. What would I have left if he brought friends?"
"Ha. Yeah, fair." Maybe he should be more annoyed, but really, what's one car door in the scheme of things? "Shit, you think it's still gonna be driveable? I should get my keys and check." The way things are going lately, Ethan would rather know if they still have a working getaway vehicle before they suddenly need one.
"Go ahead!" Heisenberg tells him. "And don't worry: I've got John here to keep me company."
Ethan nods, distracted, and heads back inside. Maybe telling Heisenberg the guy's name was a mistake.
The car is driveable, as long as you can tolerate the warning lights and the loud beeping alarm trying to warn him he's driving with the door open. Could be worse, though. Not the kind of vehicle you wanna go run an errand in, but usable if they need to make a quick exit. If anything, the exit might be even quicker, with one less door in the way.
Idly, Ethan taps his fingers on the steering wheel. He doesn't really want to get out and go back to watching Heisenberg finish his autopsy, but what else can he do, that won't make him feel like he's twiddling his thumbs while Rome burns? Maybe he should send Mia to supervise in his place—she's certainly better qualified for it than he is. But encouraging Mia and Heisenberg to spend time together right now feels... unsafe. What if they start trading notes?
If nothing else, Ethan should probably eat something, but the smell of the body is still too fresh in his mind for the thought of food to be very appetising. Which leaves him with a pretty short list of options that feel remotely productive.
Ethan sighs, looking down at his fingers again. Shower thoughts really are a genre all their own, aren't they? But he's got about as much privacy here as he does anywhere anymore.
Start with the fingertips, this time. Don't look away. Precision first; completeness can come later.
Ethan sits in his car, fingertips twitching through an imaginary scale as they darken to black, then fade back into warmth again, one after the other. The tempo makes for a bit of a dirge, but it's really not that hard to do, now he's got to a point where he can try it without freaking out.
The real test would be to see if he can make his whole body do the same. Though that's something that'd work better substantially disrobed, in front of a mirror bigger than the car's rear-view. Or he could see if he can change his hand, into... what, someone else's? Could he grow claws? Does he even want to try?
If he's going to change anything, it'll have to be fingers. Ethan's hands have been through enough that fingers feel positively expendable now—let the world do its worst. Plus, they're safely far away from all the parts that make him him. A finger or two he can regrow, but if-
"Lost in thought?" Heisenberg asks, making Ethan jump halfway out of his skin. He looks around to find Heisenberg leaning on the side of the car, looking in through the empty door frame.
"Shit, don't scare me like that!" Ethan protests. He hadn't even heard the other man approach.
"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Heisenberg chuckles. "What's the verdict? Is she drivable?"
"More or less." Ethan sneaks a look back towards his porch. "What about you? Are you done with..."
"With John? For now. I don't think we're going to get much more out of him, not with the equipment I've got available."
"And?" Ethan prompts him, when no elaboration is immediately forthcoming.
Heisenberg shrugs. "Over a dozen different pieces of shrapnel in his body, apparently all from the same source. Some embedded deeper than I could retrieve. But nothing there that would've killed him in a hurry. Appearances are, he died of suffocation."
Meaning John was still alive when he was eaten. Possibly even aware. A shiver runs down Ethan's spine. "Shit."
Heisenberg gives him another shrug. "You did ask."
"Yeah," Ethan agrees, vaguely. And facing uncomfortable truths is something he needs to practice. But this isn't one he feels any need to stare at longer than necessary. Which is probably why his next impulse involves steering the subject elsewhere. "The metal in him... you could just... feel where it was? Even without looking." Handy trick. Must save a fortune on x-rays.
Heisenberg grins. "I'm a man of many talents, Ethan."
Ethan rubs his brow. Something else just occurred to him. "Just how good are you at detecting metal? Is there a... I don't know, a range?"
"Thinking of going treasure hunting?" Heisenberg teases him. "The Duke's prices can be a little steep..."
"No," Ethan cuts him off, before he can have too much fun with that idea. "But I just remembered I dropped my gun out in the woods last night." Getting out of the car, barely stopping himself from trying to shut a door that no longer exists, Ethan turns to look out of the gate, into the wilderness that surrounds their property. Already, the sun is past its peak for the day, and well on its way back towards the horizon. "We should probably go find it before the next batch of lycans come sniffing around."
Ethan has no clear recollection of how far he'd run into the forest last night, or in what direction. Fortunately, the combined trail left by two sets of footsteps and one wounded monster is still fresh and clear enough to be followed, even by amateurs like them. With a certain amount of arguing and a bit of backtracking, at least.
"Wait," says Heisenberg at last. "I think I've got it." With new confidence, he strides forward, leading Ethan to a patch of broken foliage behind a fallen log. It doesn't look familiar in the daylight, but Ethan's ankle remembers that log only too well.
"Shit," Ethan mutters. "This is the spot, isn't it?" That's where he fell, where he turned his gun on the... god, just the thought makes his whole body throb in half-remembered agony.
The ground in front of Ethan is littered with a faint dusting of a fine, white substance, one that fails to disappear when rubs his eyes. When he looks closer, he finds a residue of tiny, white crystals—a material that Ethan, having borne witness to the final moments of more mould-infected creatures than he likes to count, can't help but recognise.
Jesus, he thinks. Is that the residue of his own blood and gore, from when all those bullets ripped their exit wounds through his back? It's not the only possible explanation: the baby was shot here too. Fuck, maybe it's from both of them, like father, like-
"Found it!" declares Heisenberg, proving himself not so easily distracted. By the time Ethan looks around, the other man is already marching back towards him, Ethan's M1911 pistol held in his outstretched hand. It, at least, looks none the worse for wear after last night's adventures.
"Nice work," Ethan tells him, only a little weakly, as he accepts it back. God knows how long he might've been stomping around out here looking for it without a human metal-detector to help. Automatically, he ejects and checks the clip—empty. Fuck, he really did empty the whole damn clip into that thing, didn't he?
"My pleasure!" Heisenberg grins. "I'm not forgetting the signature of that one in a hurry. A nice piece, isn't it? I knew it would suit you."
Ethan blinks at him. That's the gun he found in a safe in the village workshop, with the combination that was... oh. "Wait... you put it there? After I..."
"Now he gets it!" Heisenberg looks suitably pleased with himself. "Consider it a thank-you gift, for ridding me of that crazy witch from the castle."
"Huh." Well, that certainly explains the photo Ethan found with it. He'd thought no more of it at the time. At that stage of the day, his last real 'interaction' with Heisenberg involved being forced to run a gauntlet of lycans and spike traps (and to think the bastard had the gall to suggest Miranda was the one 'testing' him!) "You weren't just thinking it'd make me a more effective distraction?"
"Couldn't hurt!" Heisenberg agrees, without remorse. "Little early in our relationship to go offering you the real heavy artillery."
Ethan huffs, remembering Heisenberg's metal-polymer artillery vehicle without much fondness. Yeah, that was a lot for a first date. "How long until I qualify for something with armour plating?" You'd think a guy who ran an old tank factory would be able to offer something with a little more protection.
"Oh, for that, Ethan," Heisenberg grins, "all you ever had to do was ask."
Ethan laughs and shakes his head. There's nothing Heisenberg can't turn into flirtation, is there? Now the idea's come to him, he has to wonder if armour plating would even work, against the baby. Surely Chris, with all his resources, would've tried it by now already. Ethan's in no rush to test it himself.
Tucking his empty gun into a pocket, Ethan turns back towards the house, Heisenberg falling in step beside him without a word. Even in silence, it's strangely comfortable.
"When you... transform," Ethan finds himself asking, "What's it like?"
Heisenberg looks at him sideways. "If you're thinking it looks painful, that's only because it is. Power like that doesn't come without sacrifice."
Ethan has no trouble believing that. "How much control do you have over it? I've seen my share of weird fucking monster transformations. I've never seen anyone else who incorporated machine parts."
"Because there's no-one else who has my affinity for cold steel! Attracting the raw material—that's easy enough. Building it all into something usable—that took practice."
That and resources, Ethan assumes. "So, if you tried transforming out here, without all the scrap from your factory available..."
"Find me a good junk pile, and I'm sure I could cobble something together." Heisenberg shrugs. "But out here? Well, there's your car, I suppose, but without a lot more to work with, you wouldn't be looking at anything very impressive. And if you want that car to stay drivable, I wouldn't recommend it." He looks at Ethan speculatively. "Why the interest? If you're looking to recreate that little fantasy of yours..."
"What?" Ethan actually bursts out laughing. "Oh, god no!" Christ, what else was Heisenberg going to think this was about? Fuck, Heis did kind of offer to find a way to make it work before, didn't he? Back when they first talked about that dream. With a guy like Heisenberg, you could only ever be so sure he was joking. "No, it's nothing like that!"
Heisenberg shrugs, unoffended. "Just curious, then?"
He could probably pass it off as though it was curiosity, a natural continuation of having Heisenberg's artillery platform brought back to mind. But that wouldn't really be true, would it? And Ethan's not going to be handed a better opening than this in a hurry.
"Um. Look, I've been..." Ethan begins, before he's given any real thought to how to explain himself. But why explain, when he can do better? "Actually... I need to show you something."