Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You fiddle with the lining in the bodice of your dress as the carriage rocks you back and forth. Victor and Heinrich were gabbling like school girls over their new pet project, but you were more interested in the new home your husband’s friend had promised.

As the carriage comes to a halt the men exit first, allowing Victor to offer his hand to you. “Such a gentlemen when you want to be, my love” you let the words tumble out of your mouth in the form of a sigh while leaning into his side. He links your arm with his to guide you to the entrance of the gothic looking building “I wouldn’t want my darling wife to trip, now would I?” he smirks lopsidedly. Heinrich, who has noticed the two of you mumbling to one anther, once again steals Victor's attention with his generous patronage by giving you both a tour of your new home.

It was…pungent, the smell of the damp was not particularly welcoming, and whenever the breeze would blow down the stairs it would soak through your skin and sting your bones.

Later, Heinrich leaves to attend to other matters so you’re both left in the abandoned master bedroom alone. This allows Victor the confidence needed to pull you back by your shoulders so that you’re pressed up against his chest. He then wraps his arms around your front to rub his hands up and down your arms in hopes of warming you up as he rests his chin on your shoulder. You could feel his curls tickling your cheek as he did so. “Victor this place is…” you look down at the leaves and debris that litter the floor and the general mangled state of the room “I know, but Heinrich’s men will arrive within a fortnight to deliver our belongings, I’m sure we can make a home of it until then”.

He pulls away and uses the space to swirl you around so that you’re facing him “Although there is one room I had specially requested be ready before we arrive” his heart burns as your face brightens. Taking your hand in his, he storms down the halls with such confidence in himself, you don’t quite understand why until he opens up a set of double carved mahogany doors.

A library. He had your own library fully furnished for you, almost identical to that of your last house, only much, much larger. You cover your mouth upon entry, tears burning your eyes as you blink. “They only had one carriage available to move our belongings ahead of our arrival, so I chose the things that may help acclimatise you, so to speak.” you turn and wrap your arm around his neck, forcing him to bend down slightly to meet your height “Thank you.”

he let out an amused huff as he patted your back “It wasn’t just your belongings of course, some of my essentials were also delivered but I…” his voice dies slightly when he notices how you’re not letting go. “You’re welcome, Darling”. He coughs, pulling back from your grip and turning to face the window for no reason in particular other than to hide his red ears. Which he fails to do.

About a month has passed since your arrival, and while the house was still in chaos from moving, you could not be happier. The only exception being how busy your husband has been since his equipment arrived and with Heinrich seeming to take up a semi-permanent residency. It meant that you spent most of the day in isolation, with the exception of Victor rushing into your study excitedly to press a fleeting kiss on your head then ramble about his progress. But, while these moments were loved, they did not last long. Even at night he would leave you mourning over the cold void his side of the bed had introduced to your sleep, Victor no longer read to you under the little light a candle provided.

Thankfully, this new week meant that Heinrich would have to travel back to his niece's estate. This meant that you could walk around your home like it was your home, no longer chained by social expectations to remain out of sight and mind while the men worked. Although, on occasion, they remind you more of little boys messing with what they do not understand, rather than scientists.

You had your back to your husband's chest, with your head tucked under his chin as you were both cuddled up on a chaise lounge chair in your library. He had his notes propped up in his hands so that the two of you could read over them together. He loved listening to your opinions of his work, he especially loved listening to you praise or question his work, because it meant that you were actually listening to him. You poke at his chin and he opens his mouth so that you could pop a small chocolate in and Victor smiles, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

“How about Adam?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence that often settled between the two of you after a long day, “We don’t know an Adam” Victor’s brows scrunched up in confusion as he looked down at you.

“No, as a name for your creation my love. Surely, he must have a name?” he scoffs, then corrects you “It, my dear, it will not be given a name”.

“How so? If he is to live surely he must need a name, what is more suitable than being named after the first man” he smiles, amused by your persistence. “It is simply a creature, hardly conscious, think of it like a dog or even a plant” you turn your head to look up at him “Yes, but dogs have names, Victor even plants have a name for their species” he lets the papers fall to the floor “he’ll just be my creation, a creature”

Your husband had a personality that called for a…refined taste pallet, stubbornness was among those traits.

As the days pass tension in the house rises, Victor must bring life to his creature within the week as Heinrich promises to cease his funding otherwise. In his exhaustion, Victor seeks you out, like a guiding light. a moth to a flame, and by some divine intervention he allows you to help him.

This was your first time entering the lab, The endless bodies that dirtied the floor certainly left a lasting impression. It looked like more of a battlefield than the actual war in there, piles upon piles on the dead stacked high enough to reach countertops, and your husband looked like he belonged among them. You knew it had been around three days or so since his last crumb of sleep.

Heinrich was strongly against having you there since your “Feminine waves” would hinder any progress, meaning that you actually took care of Victor and sent him to bed. You’d read his notes and you’d been to many of his university demonstrations. You didn’t take any pleasure in watching him disassemble men but you had seen him do it. So, in the early morning you took action, you put on your single pair of riding trousers and one of Victor's old shirts then got to work. First thing’s first was to decide on a face, most of the body only needed stitching together which was one of your specialties. After twelve hours of endless stitching, blotting, cutting, and binding (with a single tea break), Victor re-joins you in the laboratory. He comes thundering in, bordering on frantic. Looking less like a wild man, it seems that he’d actually bathed and shaved. He grabs an arm you’d attached early into the day “you did this?” a twinge of fear crept its way into your heart, this was his life's work … what if you’d ruined it?

Only he starts to smile and pulls you into a bloodied kiss, seemingly not caring about the transfer of blood over to his relatively clean clothes “You’ve done a spectacular job darling, and in such a short amount of time how could I have been so blind, of course it’s in a woman's nature to bring such life. Brilliant job, truly”.

“Victor, how long do you think you’ve been asleep?”, his slightly manic smile drops from his face and you reach up to cup his cheek in your hand. “It’s barely nine is it not?” you pause, biting your lip slightly “Victor…it’s five in the afternoon” he blinks at you for a moment, his face unreadable as he just stares into your eyes “Répétez, s'il vous plaît” his voice cracks slightly as his tongue tumbles over the words. “My love, you’ve been asleep for twelve hours now”

He deflates like a lead balloon and drops his forehead to rest on your shoulder. Victor stays there for a good five minutes, breathing in the smell of your hair and feeling the texture of his shirt underneath his hands as he coils himself around you once more. You take the time to rake your fingers through his curls “We have two days left and we’re already almost done, I’ve even picked out a face for him” you make sure to keep your voice soft and low, if you are calm then Victor tends to feed off of your energy. Hopefully this habit of his will help him dig himself out of the mental pit he has just created for himself from one mistake. drama queen.

You both spring into action and he starts to attach bits of the face, “Darling I need another eye this one is damaged!” he calls over his shoulder, your heels click on the blood covered stone floor as you scan over countless faces. “Eyes, eyes, eyes” you mutter to yourself before picking up two different heads. Setting each one side by side on the counter before loudly asking back “What colour?” Rage baiting this man is so easy. “Just one that works, please” you scoop out a brown one and rush it over to Victor.

With the assembly of Victor’s creation is complete, Heinrich sadly returns. Meaning that you are back in your library once more, the only company being that of the mice which you imagine have taken up residence in your home. Victor calls them rats but they’re not, mice are cute, sanitary creatures, like the cats of the rodent world. You’d even start to leave them some bread and stuffing to aid in their nest making, hoping that if you help them build their army they’ll send one of their own to bite Heinrich in his sleep.

Tonight was the night of the storm, and you were infinitely more grateful for your own space, something about being able to see the storm raging outside while cozy next to a fireplace calmed you. Little did you know this peace was about to be disturbed.

Chapter Text

The sound of yelling is what first alarms you, taking your shoe hook you slip on your boots and leave your safe place, only to almost jump out of your skin at the sound of smashing tiles. “Victor!” you call progressively louder up the stairs as you run to the laboratory. Pushing open the heavy doors your breath escapes you. Heinrich was dying on the floor. Heinrich was dead on the floor of the laboratory, with Victor standing over his corpse.

“Victor” your feet felt rooted in the floor, the shock had frozen your body, making you unable to really process the scene in front of you. He doesn’t look at you, but then you raise your voice “Victor!” he whips his head around, eyes blown wide. “_____” “_____, darling he fell- he…he fell from the- Heinrich is dead” He was panting and panicked, like a spooked deer ready to flee. “Take care of him, okay, take care of the body and I’ll be right back” he stutters out as he picks up a metal pole from the floor before sprinting back up to the tower.

“Victor! Victor, get back here!” you yell down the halls, letting out a shaky sigh you walk over to the body, only for the creature to steal your attention. You were so anxiety ridden you hadn't even noticed the giant strapped down to the strange cross in the middle of the room. Shaking your head you start to use all of your strength to flip the body over and drag him out of the centre of the room, you huff then gag slightly at the sight of the cavity on the back of his head. You manage to transfer your late guest to an empty examination table before making your way over to the amalgamation of dead men placed in front you.

Tilting your head back to get a better look at the face you’d chosen for him, you place a hand on his calf. It was stone cold. Hopefully, one day, he will be able to experience the warmth the world has to offer. That thought brought a smile to your, otherwise distressed looking, face.

Not even a minute later Victor barged back into the lab, a deadly look on his face. “____! Those pipes on the left, tighten them. We need to secure the energy transfer!” you tear your gaze away from the soon-to-be-alive man and rush over to the left batteries, the two of you work in sync with one another until the lightning strikes. You cover your ears with your hands and crouch on the floor. The metal on the machine overheats and burns into your hand. After that, there's a silence, Victor isn’t yelling, the wind isn't howling in your ears and the thunder that had just deafened you seemed to fade with the ringing in your mind. Your gaze finds its way back to your husband. He is standing over his creation.

“Victor.” He can't find it in himself to look at you just yet, he marches over to you and helps you stand, noticing you wince when he takes your hand in his to press a small kiss to your wrist. You sweep the hair from his eyes and notice his expression was that of rage or maybe disappointment. “I know my love, I’m sorry” you cradle his face in your undamaged hand, he closes his eyes and swallows the nasty words ready to spill from his lips. You deserved better than that. Instead he pulls away and returns to the side of his creation, hitting its chest repeatedly, you flinch with each blow that is delivered.

Eventually you manage to get him out of the lab and to bed, he unceremoniously tosses his shirt to the side of the room before falling onto your shared double bed. He lands with a small puff of air before burning his face into his pillow and groaning. You start to unfasten your dress and shoes, slipping into a nightgown. A process Victor happily watches with a sly smirk when he thinks you can’t see.

Walking over to his bedside he reaches out and laces our fingers together, bringing your hands to his chest “they lied to me” he murmurs. You offer him a small smile, tilting your head to the side “Who did, my love?” you follow his eyes and find him staring up at the ghoulish angel statue he insisted on using to decorate his side of the room. Instead of answering he snakes an arm around your waist, turning over in the bed to face away from the angel while dragging you over with him. You let out a giggle as he curls himself around your back, digging his nose into your neck. You hum, shifting slightly as you both settle and get ready for bed.

His voice cuts through the domestic bliss that fed off of the combined power of your wilful ignorance "Tomorrow I will take the body to the ice room” he rests your linked hands over your stomach and you answered with “You know we have to inform William and Elizabeth” he does not respond, only squeezing your hand slightly. You went to sleep unsure if it was meant to comfort you or reassure himself.

You stir first, the sunlight peaking through the blinds and onto your face, but it wasn’t the day that woke you, it was the feeling of someone poking at your legs through the covers. Groaning quietly, you sit up and remove yourself from Victor's grip then rub your eyes. In front of you was...him. The corpse man was well over six feet as he stood at the foot of your bed, almost hiding behind one of the posts.

Your mouth falls open for a moment before you slowly and carefully stand up from the bed. You don’t attempt to walk closer, you just hold your hands out in front of you and he did the same, he was shuffling around awkwardly, his spine was slanted, making his shoulders uneven as he stood. You smile warmly over to him and wave with your reached out hand “Hello” you greet, reminding yourself to breathe. He mimics you by waving a loosely closed fist at you. He also tries to copy your smile, but to you it looks more like he was trying to show you his teeth.

You take a hesitant step closer to see how he would react, he hardly notices, hand still stretched out and jankily waving it back and forth. You take his fist in your hand and lower it back down to his side, “how about we get these off of your lovely face, hmm?” you point to the bandages covering his face. Slowly, you reach up and gently remove the cloth, one by one. The creature is seemingly quite curious of you, and he pokes at your face with his knuckles, it takes you a moment to realise that he thinks your hair is also bandages which he’s trying to move for you by matching the softness of your touches. “Awww, thank you” you cooed, this managed to wake Victor from his sleep deprived unconsciousness with a fright.

Probably from another nightmare.

You press your finger to your lips to signal him to not startle the new being he’d created. He too raises his hands and the creature's attention is drawn away from you and to Victor. Your husband raises his hands after tossing his gloves to the side to show them “Look. Same.” he glances over at you “You alright?” you nod. Victor excitedly bounces past the two of you to open the big curtains, the creature turns and whimpers, curling up on himself slightly. You place your hand on his back and rub small circles into it while Victor shushes him and guides him over to the window “Sun - Sun. Light”.

You walk to stand in front of the creature while Victor gives him a proper look over before joining you. “Vic-tor” he sounds so happy, almost tearful to you. The creature mumbles something back and your husband enunciates his name once more, ‘it’ copies his voice and your husband chuckles, holding the creature's shoulders “yes, yes, yes. Of course you are” Your husband then presses his face into his creations chest to listen to his heart beat and is then embraced.

Victor leaves with his creation to give you time to change and by the time you get downstairs Victor is already walking back up from the cellar with a key. You look over his shoulders to the dark corridor “why is he down there?” Victor starts to direct you back to your shared bedroom but you keep glancing over your shoulder.

“Well we can’t have it staying in one of the rooms now can we?” you frown at him, offended on the new man’s behalf “Why not?” he looks away from you “well…hygiene I suppose, the cadavers may spread disease into our living space” you’re quick to combat this with “not if we cleaned him, It’s cold down there and he needs somewhere to sleep” but Victor continues to dismiss your worries “It’s only temporary darling it’s not like it cares regardless”.

After lunch you make sure to pickpocket your own husband for the keys he’d gotten from the cellar, you make your way down the dark stairs. The hair starts to raise on your arm as you see how this new life is being treated. “Oh. My goodness.” your eyes dart round at the bags of body parts and the waste water being pumped through shallow channels on the floor. “No, unacceptable.” your heels click on the floor as you march over to the stone slab he’s been chained to. The creature tries to wave at you but finds himself unable to, he tugs at the chains and the rattling echoes off the walls. “Hello again” you smile up at him and once again he fails to copy the expression, but you could see some improvement in the control of his facial muscles. “Now. I’m going to let you out, but no tattling to Victor okay?” you make sure that your tone is light while mocking a scolding voice. A husky “Vi-ct-or” makes its way to your ears and the creatures face is bright with a crooked smile. “See, I knew you’d understand”

Chapter Text

“That's it, there you go, one small step at a time” you didn’t realise when you'd unlocked his chains how difficult it would be to actually get the creature out of the cellar.

It had proven a more difficult task due to the fact that no one had taught him how to walk yet. You began to suspect that while he may have the muscle memory of the old body parts, this second life that Victor had given him introduced something new into his body as well, a certain innocence that came with a new life. The way he waddled along the floor with you by his side to aid in his balance reminded you of an oversized toddler struggling to hold up the weight of their own head.

You decided to go slow, pointing at your feet as you moved one foot in front of the other. He would stumble more often than not and you started to believe that his second life may have affected his depth perception as well, his whole body is stuck coordinating between the new and old at the same time. You didn’t mind though, if anything you felt some strange knot of pride take root in your chest once you’d both almost reached the top. “You certainly are a fast learner aren't you?” he lets out a pleased sounding grumble, hands grabbing at the sleeves of your dress.

On the last three steps you stop and walk one step in front of him, he huffs and reaches out for you, swiping clumsily to take your hand again. Acting as if his feet are stuck in mud. “Come on, you were doing so well a moment ago, I’ll be right here” you smile. He looks down at his feet for a full minute before lifting up his foot over the edge of the step, his toes do catch on the edge which stutters his movements slightly but with a bit of encouragement he gets his foot up by himself with no support.

You take his hand once more as he pushes off the ground to get both his feet up there. You quietly clap your hands as to not startle him “Good work, now we only have two to go before we’re at the end” he’s momentarily distracted by trying to copy your clap but finally you reach the hallway. You knew that you definitely had more patience than Victor but you had to admit that it was a very tiring activity to stay engaged in for…you checked your watch… twenty eight minutes. Jesus.

The pair of you dodder over to the entrance of your library and place your hands flat on the wood, miming the action of pushing. “Can you open, Open the door” He shoves the doors open on the first try which impresses you, they were quite heavy after all and with how long it took him to grasp the concept of walking and stairs it was a nice change of pace.

You walk in and he follows hastily after you, spinning in a circle to take in all of it “Victor would probably find out if I taught you your name was Adam, so how about I call you ducky instead, that’s what my mother called be when I was learning to walk” The creature swings his head around his jaw clicking as it juts open and closed “Victor” he sounds quite happy being able to recognise your husband’s name.

“yes. He said you couldn't have a name, which is a ridiculous notion by the way” you fall backwards to sit in your reading chair next to the fireplace. Watching as he explores. After letting his eyes scan over the room he wanders his way back to you, crouching on the floor then landing bum first onto the wood. You look down and he’s resting his head on the side of the chair as he plays with the tassels on the rug. “you don't have to sit down there, you know” you pat his head which he leans into until he falls onto his back when you walk away. You laugh and walk over to grab a small lounge chair and drag it back next to you by the fire.

He wobbly pulls himself up off the floor and you take hold of his arms to stand him in front of the chair, then move back to your own. “Sit. Like this” you fall back again (very unladylike of you) into the chair with a huff and he copies you. “Very good. Now you sit up like this” you shuffle back in the chair and fix your posture, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your knees. You hear the bones in his back pop as he tries to replicate your position and movement, including the crossed legs. You reach across and feel up his spine, it was still crooked which explains why he was unable to sit up straight but you never wanted perfection from him. You knew it made him happy to see that he did what you wanted, and you knew Victor would be happy - eventually - when you proved him wrong. This creature you’d made together, you knew that he wasn’t just alive, he was conscious, maybe not a man but something entirely new and it was beautiful.

You reach into the little chest on the side table and unwrap a strawberry flavoured chocolate drop, presenting it to the creature. His expression melted into something mirroring confusion as he scooped it up from your hand. He watches as you pluck your own from the chest and shove it into your mouth, then you start to chew.

When he does the same it’s like seeing joy incarnate, he tries to clap which comes off as more waving his hands next to each other. He smiles as he chews and you make a grossed out face, sticking out your tongue at him, resulting in him doing the same and getting chocolate on your very expensive upholstery. You take out your handkerchief and take his jaw in your hand while you wipe his face of chocolate, you feel small vibrations as he hums happily at you.

You can’t help but frown when you feel how cold he is. It was now deep into winter and more often than not you were wrapped in wool and furs but he was bare, except for the bandages that barely qualified for briefs. This gave you an idea, when babies are brought into this world they are bathed, clothed, fed and given warmth. If Victor had been sleeping as poorly as you believed you knew you could sneak past the lab and make your way up to the master bedroom.

Carefully, you close the door to the library behind you and the two of you start your journey up another cursed flight of stairs. Passing by the lab you peek in and see an adorably messy-haired Victor passed out over a desk. Eventually the two of you make it to the bedroom and you point to an antique chair next to the window “Go sit, I’ll be back in a moment” The creature waddles over to the window (like a baby duck) and sits himself down next to the chair, resting his face on the plush cushion instead. You sigh but continue your search through Victor's closet.

You grab a pair of thick socks, trousers and a nice wool shirt. Putting them to one side you move in and out of the room to get a bath ready for the creature. He is sceptical at first but once you put your arm through the barrier of bubbles he gets in. Getting him out of the tub was a sport in itself since he’d grown attached to the warmth, the only way you got him out was putting some ice water in there. You helped dry him off which came with a newfound challenge … how to dress a being twice your size when they were born yesterday.

“Ducky sit still, They’re socks, Your feet are still there, they are just inside the socks now” you decide to not do the buttons all the way on the shirt since he’d probably kick up a fuss if the collar was touching his neck. He’d proven that he already shares a mutual hatred with you for velvet so you decide not to take the chance and risk waking up Victor with a tantrum. (he was an angel you knew he wouldn't)

“There. All done” you walk him in front of the vanity mirror and then realise he’s never actually seen his reflection before. “Now you look like a proper gentleman” you press a hand to his forehead to see if the layers had managed to warm him up at all. He pokes at the mirror a little before realising the reflection was him, you could tell he was getting more distressed since his chest rose and fell more rapidly.

You stood next to him and rested your hand on his head, he turned his face away from the mirror and shoved his face in your collarbone. You pat the back of his head gently and rub his back with your other hand. “How about I teach you some more words hmmm?” you mumbled. Pulling him away from the mirror you sit the creature down onto the plush rug next to the bed, and for once you sit with him. You put a hand over your heart and slowly go over the syllables of your name, showing him how to make the sounds with his mouth like ‘th’ and ‘f’ until he is able to string them together and make your name. You give him a small round of applause and rummage in your pocket to pull out a chocolate you’d saved from earlier. He puts it in his mouth with the paper wrapper still on before you even have the chance to stop him

Chapter Text

Instead of attempting the stairs, this time you decide that (Adam) the creature could have his own room, or at least one that you could hide him in until you could convince Victor to let him stay in a guest room.

Sadly, the day had escaped you and the afternoon was rapidly approaching, you knew that Victor was bound to wake up at any time. “Watch your head” you mime ducking but he bumps his head anyways, you reach up and press on his shoulder to get him through the doorway of his temporary abode.

His eyes wandered around the room, it was simple. A large bed with a desk to the side, pressed up against a window that overlooked the front of the building. He wobbles over and presses his forehead against the frame of the window, poking at the glass and drawing small squiggles in the condensation. You smile and set up the bed, leaving the room for a moment to fetch another pillow in hopes of supporting his back better.

“Ducky” he nods his head over to let his eyes find you, the creature smiles and makes his way over to you by the bed. Taking his hand, you guide him into laying down by pressing gently on his chest, “now, you are going to sleep here for the night okay? I’m going to be back in the morning just like today.” You proceed to tuck him in like a child and he just lets you while staring up at your face almost as if it were made of gold. He wriggles slightly to untuck his arm and reach out to touch your hair. For someone so tall and uncoordinated (you were working on it) he was surprisingly gentle with you, like he almost understood who you were and what you were, why you took care of him like you did. You take his hand and pretend to bite at his fingers “am nom nom” he lets out a wheezed gargle that sort of sounds like a laugh so you laugh with him, standing up from the bed and turning down the oil lamp on the desk.

“I promise, I’ll be back” you wave and he waves back, you could tell that his eyes were still open when you left since they were reflecting the light of the moon that streamed in through his window.

You let out a deep breath once you shut the door, a few moments of peace before it is broken by interacting with your husband. Walking up to his lab you slip in through the door quietly and approach his sleeping form, one that was still passed out on the desk. “My love” you called softly, you could see his face scrunch up as he stirs from his unconscious. He mumbles a quiet “ma chérie” against the table, his cheeks squished against the wood making it slightly difficult to understand. You smile, tucking a few stray curls behind his ear “Victor, you’re sleeping in the laboratory again”. He sits up straight almost instantly, like he was being pulled by a string, sniffing then wiping his face with his hand “I was not”. “Mhmm, very believable” you watch as pages of his writing fall from his face back onto the table, you assume they’d become attached by some kind of drool.

“Tell me of your day my darling” his rumbly sleepy voice brings a rising heat to the back of your neck that reaches your ears. “I spent most of it with our (Adam) creation” his eyes widen as he stands to hold your upper arms, seemingly checking you for any injury “doing what? I didn’t realise I'd fallen asleep or else I would have gone to examine it myself ” you place a hand over his and run your thumb over his wedding band “He’s curious of the world, certainly not a man, more…innocent, I suppose”. He huffed, amused “yes. He is undeniably not quite as human as I previously believed” you sigh simply accepting his misinterpretation of your words, after all you’d had this same conversation so many times. “What are you working on?” you lean over the desk to get a better look at the papers littering the table, he moves behind you and holds your waist to steady the two of you. You felt his chin resting on the crown of your head as he patiently waited for you to look over them.

Looking over the paper you recognise the figures in his drawings, all sketches of the creature from when Victor first saw him, in the corner of the page was a small sketch of you and a tall unfinished figure reaching out with your hair between its fingers. “These are gorgeous as always my love, you’ve been taking so many notes as well, though there is something I want you to add” you could feel his chest vibrate as he hums in response.

You lift the paper up so that it’s eye level to him and point out a specific paragraph, “here, when you describe his limited vocabulary due to the possible damage to either the Broca's or Wernicke's area” “Yes?” “I don’t think that's right” he pulls back slightly and you hand him back the paper so he can quickly read it back himself. “Why would that be incorrect?” he squints a little “because this problem does not only affect his processing and production of speech, his movement and facial expressions are also strange. Those skills barely existed yesterday, he’s not forgotten them. They were never developed in the first place” Victor rubs his chin, thinking for a moment before responding.

“the soldiers. They have muscle memory, the other trials had no difficulty in performing such simple tasks” “But Victor, he’s different. He is alive, not some battery powered corpse” Your husband sighs, shaking his head before looking away from you. “Also…don’t be angry with me-” you pick at your fingers as he gives you his full attention once more “I moved him” Victor moves his hands to his hips, wheezing slightly “oh really? And, how did you manage that?”.

“I taught him how to walk…upstairs…into my library…and a guest room” his mouth fell open as he scrambled to search for the key to the chains. You fished them out of your dress “You pickpocketed me. Unbelievable. How. why would you do such a thing” he sounded exasperated “He deserves a bed. He deserves warmth. He deserves clothes-” “-clothes. You gave it clothes?-" “-Victor. He was cold, and you left him to freeze with the scraps”. He leans on the desk staring at you in bewilderment “where is it?” you refuse to make eye contact, he never yelled, only raising his voice. “Darling, where is it?” You roll your eyes and bite your cheek “it doesn’t matter Victor, even if you chain him again I’ll just keep letting him out.”

Victor pinches the bridge of his nose “God, you infuriating woman” you pinch his side. “If you let him stay in the guest room I will let you lock the door, It will help his bones set properly and protect his body from water damage or the cold” he mulls it over for a moment “I’m still chaining him to the floor” you take a deep breath in before sighing out “...fine, thank you” you pull him down by his ratty neckerchief and press a sweet kiss to his cheek.

He holds your face with one hand and pulls you closer to him by your hip, “I’ll go into town and fetch you some chocolates with a new book tomorrow, how does that sound?” He gives you a sweet kiss on the lips, and the two of you exchange a look that somewhat resembles how old couples look at one another after fifty six years of marriage. Three of which must have been dedicated to bickering at least and yet they both know that one could not live without the other.

“Trying to make up for being an ass?” he’s now smiling down at you like some lovesick fool “Is it working?” you shrug “might be. Depends on what chocolate you get me” he laughs and rests his forehead against yours. The two of you rock side to side for a moment in each other's arms before heading up to bed.

The next morning you are at the front door waving Victor goodbye as he leaves. Heading upstairs, you knock a short tune on the guestroom door before opening it, only to struggle. Someone was blocking it. “I’m back, and with a new lesson for you” you press your ear up against the door and hear the shuffling of clothes, you manage to open the door this time and look to your left to find (Adam) him sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped around his legs. He was waiting for you to come back. The creature's big wet eyes looking up at you made your heart break. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that I'd kept you waiting” you pat his head and he sits on his knees, resting his head against your stomach. Leaning like he was trying to melt into you. You rub his upper back and give him a moment before getting him to stand and follow you to your library.

The towering creature doesn’t really need much support walking anymore but you still keep a hand on his back and arm just in case he stumbles or trips. Upon entering the library he drifts to sit down on the rug next to the window while you begin to set up your easel beside him, dragging over your stool and picking up your other painting supplies.

“Ducky” the creature looks up at you with his lopsided smile, over time he’s somewhat managed to match yours, only with more teeth. “Could you hold this for me?” you hand him an old hardback copy of ‘The Castle of Otranto’ which you’d begun using to press flowers from the warmer months to use as live references for your painting when you’re stuck inside for the winter. He picks at the corners before realising that the book opens, he lets out a huffy laughter. You smile when he picks out a dandelion, bringing it close to his face, almost cooing at it. “That is a flower. F-low-er” his finger traces the edge of its delicate petals as he mutters the word to himself. The two of you sit in silence, occasionally you’ll glance as he explores the book while you begin to paint in the undertones on the canvas, and, like a gentleman, he holds the flower up for you so that you can still see it as he sits crisscrossed next to you on the floor.

Around an hour or so passes before the book no longer keeps him occupied so he focuses back onto you. He shuffles closer and rests his cheek on the side of your thigh, watching as you paint in finer details of a field covered in endless dandelions. Your guess is that he likes the texture of your dress, you always make sure to get comfortable fabric and wash the garments with a specific soap to ensure that it never irritates your skin. Could it be that he's drawn to body heat? He can't really produce much by himself so maybe he’s trying to steal some of yours. But, perhaps he just finds comfort in your presence. You and Victor are his entire world, you supposed you would also savour contact if that were truly the case (as sad as that thought may be).

He fiddles with the lining in your dress, scrunching it up or folding it while you continue to paint away. It's about lunchtime when Victor is knocking on the door "It's open, my love” the creature stands when he recognises your husband’s voice. Upon entering Victor tries his best not to comment on what his creation was doing here, but he couldn't help himself. You stand, giving him a small hug and kiss on the cheek as he hands you a lovely gathering of hellebores and a box of wrapped sweets “What is it doing in here” he mumbled as you pull away “I invited him” you say over your shoulder as you add the chocolates to your small chest, not before handing one to the creature as you walk past him. He was turning his head back and forth between you two as either of you speaks, he follows you over to the fireplace much like a duckling to a mama duck. Victor frowns, “no.no. What was that? I saw that” you smiled over your shoulder at him “saw what?” you asked, feigning innocence while handing (Adam) the creature another chocolate. “That. right there. ____ you can’t be giving it sweets all the time they might damage its body” you and the creature sit down in your neighbouring armchairs in time with one another, swinging one leg over the other. This takes the creature a bit longer to do so you cross and uncross your legs to show him how as Victor continues his frustrated ramble. One you’d quickly zoned out of. “Victor.” you said his name so sweetly when you interrupted him “you seem upset.” he comes to stand directly in front of you to block your view of the fire, hand on his hips. You smile before asking your husband prettily “would you like a chocolate?”

if looks could kill you’d be buried next to his mother

He glares at you for a solid ten seconds before snatching it from your hand and scarfing the whole thing then pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek “I despise you” you blink up at him with your big doe eyes “mhmm, I definitely still believe you”. You reach over to your side and hand the creature yet another chocolate.

Chapter Text

Waking up next to your husband was an indescribable joy. You had opened your eyes to find his arms locked around your stomach, hugging you close to his front while he breathed in the scent of your hair. You could feel his cold nose buried into your shoulder. One strange feature of Victor is that he seemed to run cold, while you always acted as his source of heat, like an organic radiator. As always he’d gotten back from the lab at an ungodly hour of the night and first thing he did was snake his ice-cold hands up your chemise. Something you did not appreciate.

Turning in his hold you tuck your head under his chin and tangle your legs together, “it’s cold” you whispered into his chest. “It is winter, my darling” he mumbled into your hair, you huffed and buried yourself into him a little more “It’s still cold, my love”. He only hums and rubs his hand in small circles over your lower back.

A comfortable silence passes and you relish it, soaking up your husband's presence as much as possible before he inevitably leaves. Lucky for you, he’d spent all of last night in the lab, which means he’s given himself an excuse to lie in.

Eventually you both start getting ready for the day, “Victor” you call over your shoulder, he holds his scarf in his mouth to quickly help you with your corset laces. You turn and help him fix his collar. Reaching up, your fingers brush against his jaw. He takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your fingers, the back of your hand, then your palm, and the inside of your wrist. You smile up at him and he grabs your lip stain (which he made for you out of the beetles that Elizabeth had gifted him) off of your vanity table and patted it gently on your lips with his finger.

“What will you be doing today?” his eyes stay trained on your face as he answers “just finishing my notes and clearing my lab, you?” you brush off imaginary dust from his shoulders “just organising my library with Adam, he’s gotten so good at…at.” your voice dies in your throat as you acknowledge your mistake. Victor sighs and pulls away from you, rolling his eyes, “I told you this would happen” he could sound so disappointed in you without actually yelling.

Your brows scrunch up in concern “Victor, don’t say that” you weren't scared of your husband, only cautious. “No. You’ve gotten attached to that creature like some brooding hen. It’s ridiculous.” he waves his hands around to emphasise his point, similarly to a tantrum-having child. “He needs guidance Victor. What do you expect me to do? Would you rather him rot in our cellar? Then what?” you put an emphasis on his name when spitting it out of your mouth.

“Yes. it is a mistake, understand? It’s a fruitless endeavour to treat that thing like an infant, when it is clearly absent of intellect” your eyes widen as he turns from you, busying himself by shrugging on his jacket. You let out a huffed laugh, one empty of any positive emotion “Like you are such a gifted teacher.”

He turns back to face you now “Oh? Well in that case, please, do educate me on how to instruct a being incapable of parroting more than three words” you bite the inside of your cheek at his ignorance “And who taught him those words? Who taught him how to walk, how to paint, how to sit and stand like a man” he sneers down at you “Those things hardly require intellect”

There's an invisible wall between you now. You glare daggers into his eyes, hoping and wishing for him to understand by some act of divine intervention. Never in all of your years of marriage have you related to the women who poison their husbands with arsenic.

Swallowing the venomous words threatening to spill out, you storm out of the bedroom and down the stairs to Adam’s door. Pausing for a moment, you look up at the ceiling to prevent any of the tears from spilling, they make your eyes sting slightly but you pull yourself out of that emotional pit and knock. You’ve gotten into the habit of knocking the same rhythm into the wood each time you’re there, just so that he knows you’re not Victor. It’s been two months since the creature was welcomed into your world, but only a week since Victor decided to have some role in educating him. From your fresh argument it’s obvious they haven’t had much success.

Upon entering the room you notice that the curtains are still closed, walking over you welcome the morning light in before making your way over to a large ball of blankets. You notice the chain that victor recently installed at the foot of the bed leading up and under the covers. “Ducky?” you call softy, “It’s a brand new day, don’t you want to come welcome it?” you kneel next to your bed and peak under the covers only to find little red speckles littered over his cotton sheets. “Ducky?” your voice raises slightly with urgency.

The body shifts lightly, with a low groan following the movement. Peeling back the covers reveals the creature wound up tightly in the foetal position. Who knew someone so large could seem so small in a moment like this. Your eyes scan over his face as your heart burns, the scar that stretches over the bridge of his nose is oozing blood. Heavily. His eyes refuse to meet yours, he only stares at his hand covered in the dried redness from trying to wipe his nose, just to spread it across his face more. You take out your handkerchief and press into the cut, “Ducky can you hold this for me? Hold it” he moves his hand away from yours when you try to touch it. Letting out a shaky sigh you move to take his hand as softly and slowly as you could, moving to place it to compress the fabric over his nose.

You lift his chin slowly to get him to look at you, “Can you sit up for me?” his eyes are now fixed onto you, wide and unblinking. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand once you see the rest of him. His shirt sleeves were torn and the rest of him was bloodied. Picking up one of his hands, you note how they were covered in dirt and cuts from bits of gravel or maybe even glass. Each little cut and bruise fed the rage that built up in your chest.

You join him on the bed and reach up to cradle his face in your hands, his head hung low as he stares off. Brushing your thumb under his eyes he leaned into your hold a little, your voice was unsteady as you murmured with tears in your eyes, scared of the possible answer. “What happened hmm? You’re all shaken up” he slowly blinks at you, dazed and aching before pointing to his nose and letting out a raspy “Vi-ctor”, then he tugs at the rips on his shirt, making them hang loosely off his shoulder “Victor”. He moves his hands in front of you, cupped like he was giving them to you “Victor”.

He moves to lay back down only this time he rests his head in your lap, facing your stomach, he has his arms scrunched up to his chest and goes back to ‘sleep’ with his eyes closed. You sit there, processing. You rest one hand on his back to shift him closer to you with the other on his head, thumb tracing his brow bone gently as he rests. You stare at the blood covering the initials on your handkerchief. Slowly, you began to rethink your entire marriage…was this really the man you’d married? What happened? How could you let it happen? It was your fault, you thought. You were the one to convince him to teach Adam, you let it happen in your home.

After a little while you move Adam into your library with his blanket and pillows, which he helped you carry, like a gentleman. Grabbing your sewing kit you let Adam return to his place in your lap while you fix his shirt. As you stitched he stared out the window, watching the sea birds and clouds as they passed by. “He even took your lovely hair,” you muttered as you picked out the little sharp bits from his palms, placing them in a tea cup resting on the arm of the couch.

Adam seems unbothered by the pain but you make sure to pass him a chocolate for every chunk you dislodged from his skin. “One day it will grow back, and you’ll have lovely long hair like Elizabeth” you cooed, he smiled up at you before slowly repeating back her name "That's right, I’m sure she’d love to make your acquaintance”

You move Victor into your library in order to keep him safe. You are the only one with the key anyway and have sewn the skeleton key to inside one of your painting’s frame. Since it doesn't require "intellect" to paint, you doubt Victor will go looking for it in your room. You and Adam spend the night picking out music to listen to on your Gramophone, while also organising some of your newer books. You’d purchased a spelling book off one of the schools in town to hopefully aid in Adam’s teaching. A subject you’ve now decided only one person can be involved in.

Chapter Text

In the morning you find him scrunched up on the armchair placed next to yours in front of the fire. An item you had added to hopefully coax him out of the habit of sitting on the floor. Yes, the area in front of the fireplace did have a large tasselled rug covering the old floorboards but you can't imagine it was more comfortable than a duck feather throw pillow. Only Adam seemed to be proving you wrong since he would always bat the decorative piece onto the floor any chance he got, mainly because he wouldn’t be able to fit otherwise.

As soon as you stand his eyes crack open, probably worried that you’d leave like last time. “I’m not going anywhere, just going to fetch a coffee and I’ll be right up” you place your hands on your hips and turn your top half to the side, producing a large pop from your joints cracking. Sleeping in a chair was not the most comfortable option but a suitable temporary arrangement while you decide your next course of action.

Looking back to Adam you find his face twisted into an expression which could only be described as disgust. Confused, you lace your fingers together and crack them too. Adam visibly cringes, flinching away from the sound. “Don’t judge me. you’ll understand once you reach like…Five, maybe. I’m not quite sure how you age yet.’ You shrug on a knit robe over your casual nightdress from the day before. Muttering out a small “I’m so old” and securing your hair out of your face with a scrap bit of ribbon from your pocket. You shuffle over to the door.

Upon opening it you find your husband, in the process of preparing to knock. You shut the door in his face. Hard. It hits his nose, or at least you think it does since from the other side of the wood you hear “Shit, My Nose. Darling, you hit my nose!” his voice was muffled and you hoped it was him choking on his own blood.

Sadly, he survives since you can hear his footsteps as he stomps down the stairs. Hearing a slight clatter at your feet, you look down and find…Breakfast? brown eggs and bread seemingly fused to a metal plate. Not only that but he had stuck a daisy into the yolk of the egg, a white one. Your eyelid twitches with stress. ‘New beginnings’, not happening. If Victor wanted you to forgive him it would take Manna from heaven, not edible objects thrown in a coal oven with clippings from your garden.

Picking up the meal you turn back to Adam, “Ducky, could you get the window for me. Remember, push.” you nod over to the glass. He smiled and stood, making his way over before shoving open the two window panes for you. Smiling up at him you pat his face softly, murmuring a “Thank you” before flinging the plate out the window like a frisbee (something you’d now invented a couple hundred years too early). Adam half wheezes and half laughs, applauding your sportsmanship so you give him a small curtsy, bowing your head. “Thank you, thank you, I know”

Ruling out the option of leaving with Victor now patrolling the premises you decide on a learning day. First things first was checking on Adam’s mobility and coordination skills. Sitting by the window opposite one another, you test his hands first. Asking him to press the tips of each of his fingers to his palm in a certain order at different speeds, then using his other hand’s index finger to touch one of your fingers like piano keys. Any time he misses one of your digits he starts the rhythm over again.

1.2.2.1.3.2.4.5.1.

Eventually you move on to easier activities to give him a small break, things like seeing if he can touch his toes and different limbs when you name them. Like heads, shoulders, knees and toes, but for a reanimated being rather than children. You still sang the song though, he liked the jingle and tried to grunt the words with you. His back still limits his movement to a certain extent but he definitely does not lack enthusiasm, thriving under your positive reinforcement.

“Well done Adam, You did so good” you beam, helping him get up from his sitting position from when you made him practice balancing on one foot. He looks down to meet your eyes “A-dam.” “Yes. I suppose you aren’t used to me calling you by name” you place your hand on your chest and say your name, then use your finger to poke to the centre of his forehead gently “Adam”.

He struggles to pronounce ‘ducky’, “duh,d-da” you smile, nodding your head “Ducky,”. He takes your hand in his and moves it to point to his chest when you say that. “Still ducky, But you’re also Adam” he was still confused. Walking over to the window you point at the pale winter sun “Sun and Light”, then you go to one of your shelves and pick out a first edition “Book.” then you flip open to the pages “Paper.” “They have two names, you have two names, I have two names” Adam isn’t looking at you though, he’s staring at the sun, probably not good for his eyes but he seemed unaffected by any discomfort. Looking down at the grounds you spot a carriage leaving your gates. Victor.

“Next lesson will be table manors”

The kitchen had always felt so cold and empty to you, but nothing warmed that void more than polite company and tea. Teaching Adam how to hold a tea cup was a certainly a challenge. Victor had given you his mother's China set when the two of you were first engaged. Despite how horrible he had been to you recently, you would never hurt him like that or make Adam a bigger target by letting him drop one onto the kitchen tiles.

Instead you practiced with a hideous set you’d gotten as an inheritance once your aunt passed of tuberculosis. Secretly you’d wished she was still alive. Not because she was a saint- she wasn’t- but because it would mean this particular set would not be in your possession. Adam had broken three. You’d heard angels sing as you watched the shards fly across the floor.

Adam was not so happy, the sound distressed him but you reassured the creature that those mistakes did not anger you. You tried to hide your glee in avoiding taxation, mostly so that you did not encourage the destruction of family heirlooms. If the kitchen tiles broke it would be less tile tax to pay, if the windows broke then there would be less window tax to pay, if he broke the master clock in the hall it would take away your clock tax. With Elizabeth’s uncle gone you knew Victor would barely be able to keep up with taxes. Hence why you had those pure silver rods melted down a few days after the creature's creation. Both to boost your financial situation (not that you needed to)…and have a few jewellery pieces commissioned for yourself. Thankfully, Victor was practically blind to his surroundings so it’s not like he had noticed a core element of his research missing…

“Okay, one more time, Remember. Gentle.” you raise the teacup to your lips, “remember to blow, it’s hot. Ouch. hot.” you blow on the tea. He puffs air through his teeth at the actual cup, not the liquid inside. Taking a sip, you watch as he struggles to fit his finger through the loop to hold it properly. Deciding on a different approach you hand him a spoon, showing him how to drink from it. He loves his silver spoon with the pretty flower engravings. You can see his thumb rubbing over the design to further enjoy the texture as he drinks and the two of you dine on biscuits for the rest of the morning.

You let Adam keep his spoon as the two of you return to the library for his other lessons.

You have him sitting crisscrossed on the carpet in front of you, with his hand resting in yours, writing letters into his palm. “A, for Adam” “D, for a dandy or Victor” “A, again and M for… hmmm what starts with M?” you continue to draw as you speak, not expecting him to respond, but he does. “M.m-mie. My.” nodding, to encourage him. “D. Da-d.d” he groans, flinging his arms around half heartedly, not aggressive but tried. You snort, realising what he was trying to pronounce. “My Darling” you say the words in a gruff mocking tone, a parody of your husband. Adams eyes light up as he smiles lopsidedly, letting out an incoherent series of mumblings made up of half sounds, half words. “Victor does call me that. I’m impressed you’ve managed to link those together”

He rocks side to side happily, eyes wandering the room. You remain sitting on the floor with him for a little while, pulling out a book to entertain yourself as he does his own thing. Adam lays on the floor, poking at your calf every so often for you to hand him a sweet from the side table.

Eventually, you move back to your table and begin to write an invitation. This invitation is one to invite Elisabeth and your brother in law over for a visit, claiming that you worry for your husband's health and that you only trust them to come and see him. Something about a fever of the brain would definitely get them to arrive with haste. After all you do worry for his health, but only by your own hand if he were to continue to threaten the safety of (your son) Adam.

Chapter Text

Victor had still not returned. It had been a week, a full week.

After another night in the library you decide that it was safe to return to sleeping in your rooms, but Adam had been developing a strange habit. Instead of knocking on his door, he has started knocking on yours. At first you thought the light tapping was a very tall mouse with how gentle it was, but you’d found that it was the creature trying to copy your little rhythm into the wood.

You’d welcome him of course and let him sit on the covers next to you, one moment he’s standing tall next to your bed and then he had his head resting on your stomach as you read. When he uses you as a pillow he always tries to make himself as small as possible, like he’s scared of taking up too much space.

“Hmmmh” he pokes at your rips softly through your gown, you smile and look down at him “yes?” he tilts his head to look up at you “read” Adam points at himself “Duh-cky”. You blink for a second before asking “do you want to read or would you like me to read to you?”. Instead of answering he reaches up and presses a finger under your bottom lip, pressing to make your jaw move up and down like you were talking.

You start to read and he shrinks up into his ball again, pressing his cheek into your belly like he was melting into the flesh. Placing your hand on the back of his head you rest it there as you read aloud “The little boy lost in the lonely fen, Led by the wand'ring light, Began to cry; but God, ever nigh, Appear'd like his father, in white. He kissèd the child, and by the hand led, And to his mother brought, Who in sorrow pale, thro' the lonely dale, Her little boy weeping sought.”

William Blake seemed to make good bedtime poetry since Adam had fallen asleep by the time you’d gotten to the next poem. His head had also become incredibly more heavy now that he was unconscious. Instead of putting you under that weight, he must have been holding his head up himself so as to not crush you. Now you could barely breathe but it was worth it to know that he trusted you like this.

One thing you’ve learnt about him is that his sense of taste had also been reset, so everything you’d been giving him he’d be trying for the first time. Today it was pickle and beef sandwiches. Sitting across the table from Adam as he lets the pickles fall from his mouth in disgust was not a pleasant experience, and a note to your future self to have some lemons imported. So far his like to dislike ratio was good: chocolates, strawberries, salmon, haddock, beef, deer, duck, eggs, honey porridge and apple slices (only when they’re sliced) were all liked. But milk, pears, onions, peppers and now pickles were not.

Every day had really become a learning day for Adam and as time had passed there were many skills that he’d now somewhat mastered, which meant that today was a painting day. Adam had used his hands to paint but you’d never had him paint something the way you do, So first you have him sitting like a gentleman on the bay window seat as you do his portrait for the very first time.

You had drawn him before, but to you it didn’t really count since Adam wasn’t alive. He manages to sit still for you for about an hour, at which point you'd finished marking out the main body and shadows. Handing him a picture book keeps him occupied long enough for you to be at least half done before encouraging to come sit in your chair. Adam looks over at you confused as you both swap places, his eyes scanned the easel while fiddling with a brush.

You remain still as he attempts to paint you for the first time, your position mirrors a portrait you’d seen of Lady Agnew of Lochnaw. You smile to yourself as you watch his hand steadily drag the brush across the canvas, waiting. He calls your name and you walk over and find yourself pleasantly surprised. Initially you’d expect a crude stick figure resembling a drawing from your young niece, instead you find that he has painted your figure completely in a warm grey tone mirroring the rest of your painting. His work was so complimentary to yours, the proportions were accurate and his understanding of anatomy was surprising, he was good. It puzzled you. Some strokes were stuttering and shaky but you could tell that it was you sitting next to him “how did you do this?” he puffed out at the praise, letting out a small rumble from his throat “Adam this is simply marvellous, and it’s going in my room, is that alright?” he nods and you both leave it to dry (oil paint, so good luck with that)

By the end of the week Victor does not only return, but has William and Elizabeth in tow. The carriage arrives and you rush Adam back to his room, not having time to retreat back to the library. You descend the stairs and find a startlingly dishevelled Victor, unshaven and unwashed. Wearing the same clothes he’d left in.

“My darling! You’re here, you’re really here.” he climbs up the stairs and traps you in his hold, pressing a rushed kiss to either cheek, then releasing you. He travels back down to grasp Elizabeth's wrist, dragging her across the hall and up the stairs "Come on then, come, come” William travels close behind, you place a hand on his arm “how long has he been like this” the young man looks back to his brother as he disappears from sight “he arrived at our door the night before last, refuses any of our hospitality, Elizabeth was worried when you did not accompany him” he had only been there for one night.

“He’s been missing for a week, William.” The man's eyes widen at that, taking your arm in his to offer some comfort as the two of you trail after Victor. You knew where he was going and it made your skin crawl with the ghost of bugs biting at your nerves. “Victor, please” you call, William backs you up “you don’t look very well, Victor” Your husband has stopped outside of the lab, Elizabeth wriggles out of his hold.

“Oh, I’ve never felt better! I’ve never had a clearer mind!” you and Elizabeth glance at each other when he says that. She looks scared, you understand why. “Are you running a fever” Williams voice cuts through the tension but does not clear it.

Victor guides his brother inside and you make your way over to Elizabeth, taking her hand in yours subtly. “Are you alright?” she swallows and shakes her head, letting out a small gasp “your husband is an insufferable man, ____” you give her a melancholy smile “I am well aware” she returns your smile and the two of you share a tight hug. The letters had done little to soothe the sorrow that came with having an absent friend “I have missed you” she lean into your side as you guide her to Adam’s room “I’m surprised you’ve survived in his company alone” you bite your lip for a moment “perhaps I was not…entirely alone” she quirks a brow at that and you knock on the creatures door.

Adam was sitting on his bed fiddling with a ribbon in his hands, his head jerking up at the sound of your knock then tilting to the side when his gaze fell onto a new face. Elizabeth wanders towards him and you watch as they interact with one another for the first time “Adam. how do we greet people” he takes her fingers in his hand and moves them up and down steadily “Hello…” “Elizabeth” you finish the sentence for him “Eliz-ie-beth”. “He’s…beautiful” she looks down “where are his shoes, it’s too cold in this place to wear only socks” “don’t blame me, he doesn’t like to wear shoes, Victor’s are too tight on his feet” “why is he in this room and not on the same floor?” you sigh “Victor refused, at first he was in the cellar” she mutters back “horrible man”, with great timing Adam rasps your husband's name “Vic-tor” and the two of you giggle. Adam beams, smiling ear to ear crookedly, not quite understanding what was so funny.

Elizabeth frowns at the chains then looks back at you “Elizabeth, it was the only way I could get him to agree to Adam even having a bed” you pause for a moment “there’s something I must tell you, the reason Victor left. We had a fight…after I found out that he was beating Adam. After Victor gave him life he showed no interest in teaching him how to live, Victor had expected him to already know. It frustrated him. He sees him like some…creature, and hates that I treat him like a human” her face twists in concern as she takes your face in her hands, “did he lay a hand on you?” she whispers. You shake your head but are unable to stop the fat tears from escaping your eyes “Victor hates him, He turns into a monster in hating him, and I am–” you let out a shaky breath “I loved this man and look at what he has become, I can’t protect them both.” she stares at you softly “Victor has not become anything”

Adam lets out a small whine placing a hand on yours “he loved me” “it was a bittersweet charade, where passion battles with a cold disdain” She wipes away your tears with her handkerchief as she speaks “This cannot continue” “I know” “bring Adam and leave, you can stay with Willam and I” you look away and she fixes your hair before pulling back and heading towards the door “where are you going?” she looks at you over her shoulder, “to confront your husband and accuse him of his abuses”. The door is closed politely behind her. Anger rolled off of her in waves, it was admirable. You fall back onto the desk chair and Adam is still holding your hand as you stare at the wall, screaming at yourself for letting him watch you weep pathetically. Sensing your distress he takes his usual place sitting on the floor by your side, resting his head against the arm of the chair.

A few minutes later Victor barges in with your house guests behind him. He grabs Adam's hand and yanks it away from yours, wiping your face with your sleeve and you stand “Victor!” he ignores you. “Up, up, up. Come on.” “He’s still getting used to his surroundings” you roll your eyes, Adam had reached that milestone within three weeks of being alive, not that victor would know. Adam glares at William, huffing out a growl. Like those cats that hate men. “It is strong, William” you correct him “He. He is strong. His name is Adam”.

They both ignored you but the creature looked over at you upon hearing the sound of your voice, only for Victor to grab his jaw and redirect him. “All its systems are functional. All healing. And the healing is erratic, yes, but exceptional.” Victor's hands kneed heavily into the creature’s skin, displaying him like a prized animal, before patting his shoulders with uncaring force. The creature groans softly and Victor moves over and chains him for the first time in weeks. Resulting in Adam slamming his wrist against the floor, permanently damaging the wooden floor and wounding his own skin.

“Why is he chained here?” Elizabeth asked, Victor actually acknowledges her “for his own safety, and for mine, and it’s easy to clean and, uh, maintain it.” he still does not look at you “you don’t do either of those things, Victor.” you speak once more, only for him to speak over you “and it doesn’t know any better” your expression sours further into a scowl. “but you do.” Elizabeth hopes to pop his childish bubble of show and tell. William then asks the key question “Is it intelligent? Victor, is it intelligent?”

You retire to your room for the night, only to find that Victor is not there. You wander the house, searching for him. He was in the study, resting between two chairs with a wool blanket draped over him. “Victor.” you call out into the dim room, his eyes peel open. “What are you doing?” he sighs, turning his face away from you

“resting, my darling”

“Why are you here?”

“why punish my wife with my presence when she clearly despises my being, I am not a cruel husband”

“I do not hate you Victor”

“And yet you spit my name like venom to burn me, It seems I do not deserve anymore pleasantries” there's a silence that falls into the chasm between you two

“I did miss you Victor, but you were cruel to me, and I do not forgive you” he stays silent “come to bed” he huffs “so you can force my demise with a duck feather pillow?” you kick the leg of the chair supporting his upper half and he falls to the floor between them.

He does not get up.

“How long has it been since your last sleep?” his eyes actually focus on yours for the first time since his arrival, and you notice the bags that weigh heavily on his face. “Four days…I keep seeing you in the corner of my visions, haunting” you tilt your head to the side “does my imaginary company not bring you joy?” he closes his eyes “It brings me the dirtiest of emotions, mostly guilt or self-loathing” you walk around and grab one of his legs “rightly deserved” then you start to drag him across the floor, like a heavy sad mop.

“Darling, do I want to ask what you are doing?” you’re not surprised that the sleep deprivation has made him so docile. “Cleaning the halls, and making up for the fact that you treated Adam like a poodle today” he grunts when you bump his head on a doorway corner “you named him.” “Yes, I did. But I've also been calling him ducky” you arrive at the staircase leading to the master bedroom “Fine. Why ducky?” you move around to link your arms under his shoulders "because of how he used to waddle around when learning to walk” you begin to drag him down the stairs “he doesn’t do that anymore” "because I taught him how to walk” he stays limp, not helping you in any way.

You arrive at your bed and drop him to the floor, hearing the thud as his head hits the floor. “I’m sure you can dress yourself” he groans and you change into your nightdress, not waiting for him.

A few minutes later and you feel the mattress sink next to you as he climbs into bed next to you but not close, he keeps his distance and the two of you fall into a restful unconscious.